Lefty Posted April 24, 2020 Share Posted April 24, 2020 This fantasy was like something out of an x rated Fellini film! I wish this was a movie - it is so well written and so hot!!! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jwood Posted April 25, 2020 Share Posted April 25, 2020 Is it too farfetched to think that Mo and Oz may have conspired to make Eenie huge? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted April 27, 2020 Author Share Posted April 27, 2020 Chapter 39 Thankfully, I got home without incident and immediately went into the bathroom. With my half-cut clothes hanging off my body, I had to admit it—I looked like the Incredible Hulk after he’d torn through his clothing. The lime green shirt that was hanging off me in shreds even added to the fantasy. Of course, the Hulk only wishes he was as hairy and hung as me. There was work to do before I could admire myself. With Oz’s beard scissors, I cut the rest of the clothing off me. For a moment, my skin looked pale and bloodless, but soon the circulation perfectly returned, and I swelled just a little bit, free from my fabric prison. At the same time, a lot more of my mobility returned to me, so I took off Oz’s shoes and slowly peeled the socks off my enlarged feet. They thanked me. Mo had had the forethought to put another fabric tape measure in the bathroom, so I was able to quickly take the measurements. It was hard to see the scale because my chest was in the way, but by bending just right, I was able to get the score. Measuring my height and cock were easier because I could just make marks or hold the tape and move it. Texting was a still a little bit of a challenge. Between my arms and my chest, I had to hold the phone at an awkward distance and height, but I could adjust to that. “6,10-305-11.5. Bigger shoes too.” Mo texted back a thumbs up and flexed arm emoji. Now I could admire myself in the mirror. I started with my legs. Walking was still odd, so I had to really look at them. In the mirror, comparing my waist to my thighs, my thighs looked a little larger. I grabbed the measuring tape. It was harder to measure my thigh given the angle I needed, but if I measured correctly, my thighs were each bigger than my waist. No wonder walking was a challenge. Maybe I measured wrong? I threw the measuring tape to the side. I would quantify what I needed to quantify to get clothes, but I was not a math project—I was an art piece. My pecs were beautiful, hairy boulders that stuck out so far that they overshadowed the top of my abs. My shoulders and lats pushed my already impressive width even farther. My arms bulged with force and brawn. Relaxing and standing normally, my arms didn’t come anywhere near my waist. Thankfully, I could reach it, but doing so was a struggle. I was doubly thankful I had a lot of my mobility back because I had nearly a whole foot of cock to please. My bulging thighs didn’t give it any space between them, so my elephantine balls, larger and heavier than they already had been, and gargantuan cock were forced forward. I’d been hard since I first left my office. While I waddled all the way to Alexander’s cubicle, had that vivid orgy vision, toddled all the way to my car, drove home, rode the elevator up to the apartment, escaped my clothes, and measured myself—the whole time, I’d been hard. It was time to orgasm. So close to the brink I’d been, I practically willed myself to orgasm without use of my hands. The bottom of the bathtub was filled with a pool of my cum—the whole bottom of the tub. I rinsed it down, beginning to worry that I was ruining our plumbing. But as for right then and there, it was the only way to contain just how much I was producing. After the first orgasm, I carbo-loaded on leftovers I found in the kitchen, and went right back into the bathroom to stare in the mirror at the tall, hairy, gorgeous, hung, muscular freak tug at his cock until it exploded. I spent the rest of the afternoon launching an ocean of cum down the bathtub drain. I lost track of the orgasms, volleys, gallons. My brain was a chemical factory swimming in sex hormones. When I heard Mo came home, I was thankful to be taken out of my reverie. If he hadn’t come home, I might never have stopped. That was when I remembered I had absolutely nothing to put on. Oz’s robe didn’t fit me two inches in height and 40 pounds of muscle ago. It wouldn’t do anything now. Mo knocked on the bathroom door and said, “I’ve put some possibilities on the bed for you. I’ll meet you in the dining room when you’re dressed.” The clothes looked like they were circus tents. I laughed at how comically large they were, but when some of them were too small for me, I realized the joke was on me. I eventually found a t-shirt that fit me: it was sky-blue and said, “Love and Peace,” in a wispy white font. It was comfortable over my shoulders, chest and arms, but once it passed my chest, it went straight down, billowing around my waist. The pants were a different matter. I didn’t try on any of the work appropriate pants. Right then, I just wanted to be unconstrained but no longer naked. The stretchiest pair of pants were a hideous shade of off-purple. They conformed to the contours of my ass and balls, and my thighs caused the fabric to rub together, but it fit everything as comfortably as possible, and they were light and breezy. They also had a drawstring elastic waist. Which was good, or it would have drooped until it hit my thighs, exposing my pubic hair. (I had momentarily given up on underwear.) I tucked the tacky shirt into the ugly pants, and pulled the drawstring shut tight, cinching in my waist and revealing my unreal X shape. I wouldn’t win any fashion contests, but I was comfortable and clothed. I walked out into the dining room and took a seat. The chair groaned in protest, but it held my weight. “You look lovely,” Mo said. “I know I don’t, but thank you.” “Your muscles are bulging, your waist is waspish, your cock is huge and mighty. You look lovely,” Mo insisted. “Thank you,” I said. “Now,” Mo pulled out three ready-made dinners he bought on the way home. Two for me, one for him. A bottle of wine was on the table, two glasses already poured. “Alexander’s not going to get here for a few hours. We’ve got a lot to discuss, and he can’t really hear any of it. Let’s start with our possible future. Incest-y?” he asked. In between bites, I told him everything. When I finished talking, he applauded. “Possible future me insisted you be a sexual athlete,” he said. “How did you get Garrett to cheat on his wife?” I asked through a mouthful of rice. “I didn’t.” “But the visions don’t lie. If you wanted to arrange that orgy, you could have. You are clearly capable of making Garrett cheat on his wife.” Mo hanged his head down. “I didn’t want to admit this because it diminishes my awesomeness, but the one thing—the one thing—my magic is really good at is getting closeted guys to drop the act. I can’t cast a spell worth a damn, but give me five minutes, and…” Mo made a creaking noise followed by a crash. “That closet door comes tumbling down. It’s not my handsomeness and charm; it’s my magic. It’s how I knew Garrett had the hots for you before you did.” That explained so much. “Now for the most important question,” Mo redirected. “Was I any good?” “You’re awfully blasé about this.” “We didn’t actually have sex.” “You didn’t live through it like I did.” “Technically speaking, you didn’t live through it either.” “Semantics,” I swiped my hand, dismissing Mo’s comment as absurd. “I have the memory of having sex with my brother. For the rest of my life, I will have a memory of having sex with my brother. As far as my brain is concerned, it happened.” Mo sighed. “Is there a future in which I would have sex with you? Yes, obviously. But it would be a future in which you consented enthusiastically. And given your reaction to the mere thought of it, I don’t think you’re consenting any time soon. Those being the incontrovertible facts, I might as well get all the details.” It was my turn to sigh. Mo wasn’t going to let this go. “You were the one who finally got me to climax.” “I knew it,” Mo cheered. “What I find more telling is that you wouldn’t let me fuck Alexander in your version of the future.” “I noticed that detail too,” Mo said. “Afraid I’d ruin him for you?” I goaded. “That one he went Eenie, Mo’d be too teeny?” “Very droll. I’m not by nature jealous. I’m all for sharing when it’s just sex.” “Ah,” I said, deeply understanding. “This is about Alexander’s crush on me.” “Love for you, Eenie. He loves you.” Mo punctuated his word by pointing his fork at me. “Haven’t you cured him of that yet?” “I’m working on it,” Mo said, putting his fork down. “So, it’s getting serious?” “It’s as serious as it can be in a week and a half, but, yeah, it’s getting serious.” “Glad to hear.” By this point, we’d both finished our dinners, so we moved into the living room with a second bottle of wine. “Can you tell me about the painting in my office now, and why it matters so much?” “You still haven’t figured that out?” Mo asked. I shook my head. “Okay. Let me give you a hint by asking a question. Why did Oliver notice that you grew bigger but Alexander didn’t?” “Alexander is my co-worker. According to you, people who work with me can’t see the changes. They’re blind to them.” “Right, even Vernon, who doesn’t work for your company, was blind. But, he does give money to and receive money from the company. He has a profile in the accounting database.” Mo continued, “The only reason I can see the changes is that I’m a 0.5-level magic user. Were that not the case, I would have become blind to all the new changes once I started working for C&G, like Izzy and Jayce did.” “That’s right. They weren’t employees when I started changing, but they didn’t notice the changes.” “Good. So, it’s clear, everyone who gets a paycheck one way or another from C&G can’t see the changes.” “I agree. But we knew that two weeks ago.” “Then why did the painting move?” “What?” “Your painting. It keeps moving further up the wall.” “That’s easy. Quincy did that. He’s hiding a camera behind it, and he wanted to keep me in frame.” “Right. He moved it higher because you got taller, and he didn’t want the top of your head cut off of the frame.” “Wait…” I said. Something about that sounded wrong. “He works in the IT department. He shouldn’t be able to process that you’ve gotten taller. Ergo, he shouldn’t have moved the painting.” My world inverted. “Oh my god. You’re right.” “Once might’ve been a coincidence. But he moved it twice more as you kept getting taller. I’d wager money your painting will be another two inches higher when we get to the office tomorrow.” “Why could Quincy see the changes? Is he the one who hired the caster?” “Quincy? No. He can’t afford a decent outfit, let alone a caster.” “Then why could he see the changes?” “Because he doesn’t get a paycheck. He’s an intern working for college credit. He even complained that the interns don’t have profiles in the accounting database.” “So, because he’s not technically an employee, he could see the changes. Why didn’t he just tell me?” “He’s scared of you. And he thought it was hot.” “That’s not enough a reason.” “Well, it goes deeper than that. But that will have to be enough for right now. Alexander will be here soon.” “If you know more, tell me more,” I pleaded. “All good things, Eenie,” Mo said. “Come to those in glass houses,” I finished. “I promise you, by the end of work tomorrow, you’ll have all your answers.” 12 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted April 27, 2020 Author Share Posted April 27, 2020 Chapter 40 I was pushing the definition of “Casual Friday,” but at least I was dressed for work. When I got to my office, the first thing I did was check the painting in my office. Mo was right. Quincy had moved it another two inches higher. Beyond impatient, I was going to storm on down to IT by myself and demand answers from Quincy. He had to know something. Halfway to the elevator, Mo saw me, and flagged me down. “The painting was higher,” I said. “So, we’re on our way to IT?” “Yes, we are.” Mo shook his head. “You’ve got it backwards. Call Quincy up to you.” We went back into my office, and I called IT, requesting Quincy specifically. We stood there, waiting. As we waited, I couldn’t help comparing myself to Mo. It was just the two of us in a space I saw as increasingly small. My younger brother, who’d always been taller, always been hotter, always been bigger than me—everywhere—now looked small. I was seven inches taller and a hundred pounds more muscular than the brother who had always dominated me. It felt gratifying to finally be the big big brother. When Quincy showed up, he looked surprised to see both of us, especially standing by the door waiting for him. “I haven’t been able to recreate or retrieve the data,” he said, reflexively flinching a little. “Take a seat,” Mo said, offering him my guest chair. Quincy sat down immediately, like a chastened schoolchild. Mo sat on my desk (again), and he pointed me to my desk chair. Ever since the wheels had snapped, I was afraid to use it, and I was even more massive than the last time I sat in it. The arms squeezed my ass, but I was just able to force myself into it. If I didn’t shift my weight, it should support me. Quincy was hyperventilating at my display of size. “As I thought,” Mo said. “You can see that he’s been growing bigger.” “Of course, I could. At first, I was surprised no one else could. I thought I was seeing things. But then the other interns began talking. They all noticed it too. They’re scared of you. It was so insane that it had to be supernatural craziness or a mass hallucination. Either way, I decided to enjoy the ride.” “You didn’t just enjoy the ride. You created your own twists and turns,” Mo accused. “I don’t understand,” Quincy said, quavering. “Fine, we’ll do this the long way.” Mo turned to me. “You tell him.” “Tell him what?” I asked. Mo looked disappointed. “Okay, I’ll do this the hard way.” Mo cleared his throat to stall for time. “Let me give you some pieces. Maybe they’ll help you put it together. With the exception of the first time you changed, what did all your other changes have in common?” I went through my mental calendar. “They have nothing in common. No two changes were exactly the same or happened in the same place. Sometimes I got more muscular, sometimes I just got a bigger cock. Some came when I was in my office. Others came at different places in the building. One came when I was at a meeting with Vernon. Some came after a call from Oz. Some didn’t.” “You’re overthinking it, Eenie. When? When did they all happen?” I wracked my brain, but nothing came. “Lunchtime. With the exception of that first growth spurt, they all occurred at lunchtime.” “So, they did,” I said. “And what happens at lunchtime?” “I want to say lunch, but I know that’s the wrong answer.” “The accounting database gets updated,” Mo said. “That’s right, 12:15 PM,” I said. “So, your changes coincided with every time the accounting database updated.” “That seems… odd.” “But that’s not all they have in common, is it?” Quincy shook his head. Mo continued. “I join the company, get added to the accounting database, you get taller and bigger than me. Izzy gets added to the database, you get more muscular. Jayce gets added, you get taller and more hung. No matter who gets added to that database, once it updates, you become more than them, in one way or another.” “But the last few changes…” I started. “This still makes no sense.” “We asked Quincy here—poor, little underfed, starving college student Quincy—to hack into the accounting database.” Mo turned to Quincy. “You made a profile for yourself, didn’t you, Quincy?” “I did. I just wanted to get a meager paycheck. I didn’t expect…” “The spell didn’t know how to handle Quincy’s addition. Until Quincy, every new addition had been bigger than you in some way. Quincy was ridiculously smaller. But, he did have one sexually desirable trait: he had a lower body fat percentage than you. However, if you just lost some fat, you’d become smaller overall. This confused the spell. So, rather than diminish you, it did an equivalent exchange, and you got impossibly shredded.” I wanted to say something, but my head was reeling. Mo went on. “And when you saw the change you caused,” Mo said, pointing to Quincy, “you finally connected the dots and knew what was causing Eenie to change.” Quincy nodded a little too quickly. “I found a social media account online for a tall, impossibly muscular man who bragged about the size of… his equipment. I’m very, very sure it was a catfish account and that the profile picture was a photoshop job. But, I added him to the accounting database, and you changed again. It was incredible.” “And then you did it a second time because it was so hot,” Mo accused. “No,” Quincy said. “I did change you twice, Mr. Myers. Once by accident, once on purpose, but I didn’t do the most recent one.” “Just come clean,” Mo said. “He was here when the most recent changes happened,” I reminded Mo. “The accounting database updates automatically. He doesn’t have to be at a computer.” “It took me by complete surprise,” Quincy said. “I heard you say that,” Mo said. “You said that you were confused that he changed. Classic misdirection to throw me off your scent. It pissed me off, Quincy.” “I was confused. I hadn’t done it,” Quincy insisted. “But no one else knew about the spell,” Mo said. After a moment, he added, “except the person who paid to have the spell cast.” “So, you believe me?” Quincy said, trembling. “Yeah. Okay. Get out of here,” Mo said. Quincy ran from the room. “Why’d you let him go?” I said, trying to rise to my feet, but the chair held me fast. “He doesn’t know who paid to have the spell cast, and I got him to confirm his participation in all of this.” “So, who did do it?” “Let’s go over your suspects, one by one,” Mo said. He got up and began pacing. “The first person you suspected was Mr. Tyler, but he was genuinely sick when I visited him and has no access to the accounting database from home. So, the only way it could be him is if he hired someone like Quincy to do the dirty work for him. If that were the case, Quincy would have cracked by now. But, more importantly, if it had been Mr. Tyler, he wouldn’t have used a discretionary code. He would have used the payroll code. Also, he has no motive whatsoever.” “True,” I said, nodding. “Then we had Alexander,” Mo continued. “But neither of us ever really suspected him.” “I did briefly, but only briefly,” I confessed. “Well, it can’t be him. Even though he does want you to break up with Oz, he couldn’t have had the spell cast.” “Why not? He has that trust fund; he comes from a wealthy family.” “And he can’t touch that money. He’s scared of losing his job, he lives in a crappy apartment, he asks me if I know anything about estate law. Those aren’t the actions of an eccentric rich person. Those are the actions of a former rich kid who’s been cut off from his trust.” “Alexander’s been cut off? He would’ve told me.” “He was embarrassed. He’s the office gossip. If anyone found out, it would’ve been all over the building in an afternoon. Besides, he’s not entirely cut off. If I were to guess, he’ll get access to it again when he marries.” Alexander’s words from trashy movie night rang in my ear: “If I asked the question I really wanted to ask, you’d mistake it for a proposal.” Out loud, I said, “Poor guy. I wish he’d told me. I wouldn’t have spread it around.” “But you clearly would’ve pitied him,” Mo pointed out. “I guess you’re right.” “Then there’s Garrett,” Mo said, redirecting. “He obviously couldn’t afford a caster, but his late father was a famous caster, and he clearly wanted to take you down a peg. So, if he was a caster, he might have just cast the spell himself.” “It was Garrett?” I said, incredulously. “No. Not even a little. You saw his vision. You lived with him for a year, you spent all that time together. Two years passed. In those two years, he never once did a single spell. You learned everything about this man, including how his mother’s Catholicism makes him prone to guilt. You learned that but saw no magic?” Mo’s face was painted with disbelief. “Hell, part of his fantasy was a promotion to mid-level management, not the luxurious and secretive life of a caster. If he has any magic whatsoever, and I’m not convinced he does, he’s a low-level user like me who can use his magic to put on muscle faster, and that’s about it. And considering how his body and life changed in his fantasy, I can think of 80 or 90 spells he would’ve cast before performing a seduction malediction on you. Even if deep, deep down he wants to dominate you sexually.” “That just leaves Vernon,” I said, intentionally leaving Oz off the list. “I did think it was Vernon for a while,” Mo admitted. “He had a budget code, he had the resources, he actively and openly wanted you to leave your husband. He’s also so afraid of his grandfather finding out that he’s gay that he would hire people in secret. He fits the bill.” “So, it was Vernon,” I said, angrily. Mo shook his head. “He was blind to the changes, and the budget code didn’t match. That alone would convince me it wasn’t him. But, why hire Izzy? Why hire Jayce? He wanted you for himself. His plans involve one day marrying you. He wouldn’t put those two sexpots in your way. And if he had hired them and Quincy, his warped notion of politeness would have forced him to greet Izzy and Quincy when he saw them yesterday. But you had to introduce them.” “That does sound wrong,” I agreed. “And here’s the kicker. He has no access to the accounting database. He couldn’t have made the last change. It took a highly intelligent computer hacker a weekend to get into the database, and a hacker Vernon is not. One of the reasons I pressed Quincy so hard earlier was to see if Vernon had hired him to make the most recent changes. But Quincy insists he didn’t, and this,” Mo made a hand gesture indicating the totality of the past two weeks, “could not have been Vernon’s endgame.” “Who does that leave?” I asked. “Who did I say it was from the beginning?” Mo reminded. 19 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted April 27, 2020 Author Share Posted April 27, 2020 Chapter 41 “It’s not Oz,” I said. “You misunderstand me,” Mo said. “Oz isn’t the one who did it. Oz is the reason the spell happened.” “I don’t follow.” “His birthday’s coming up. Half a century of a world that includes Oz Myers. While he’s out of the country, you suddenly get bigger, buffer, and more hung. You’re a walking wet dream, Eenie.” “You’re still my brother, Mo,” I reminded him. “You’re Oz’s walking wet dream. You’re his birthday present,” Mo said. “What?” “At first, I thought the goal of the spell was to get you to cheat on Oz. I mean, that is the reason the spell is usually cast. But it’s usually jealous wives who pay to have it cast. I would call Oz many things, but I would not call him jealous.” “So, whoever had the spell cast knew I wouldn’t cheat on Oz?” “He at least really, really suspected it. And you proved them right, big brother.” “I… I…” I couldn’t find an end to that sentence. “Pretty much everything begins to make sense when you start looking at the spell as a gift for Oz rather than a punishment for you. Make you the biggest, buffest guy at work. Hire the bodybuilder and the porn star to make you as big and beautiful as possible. Get Quincy to film you so your transformations are recorded to give Oz a memento or jackoff material, depending on the gift giver.” “When did you reach this conclusion?” “When you had Izzy bark like a dog.” “I don’t follow,” I said, shaking my head. “You said it yourself. He wished you a happy birthday after he kissed you. But your birthday…” Mo pointed at me to finish the sentence. “Still in September. Yes. That hasn’t changed.” “He was hired to seduce you as a birthday present.” “But it’s not my birthday.” “Are you forgetting about the other temptation?” “Jayce?” “Marcus, yeah. He made it abundantly clear. He would only have sex with you if it was recorded. In his vision, when you gave in so quickly, he said…” Mo pointed to me again, prompting me to finish the line. “I knew you wouldn’t last two weeks.” “And what happens roughly two weeks after Marcus was hired?” “Oz’s birthday.” “They knew they were a birthday present. Izzy, poor thing, thought he was your birthday present. Marcus wasn’t given the whole story either, but—who knew?—he’s a smart egg. Until you told him there was no camera in your bedroom, he probably thought Oz hired him. Oz wouldn’t be the first guy who paid a hung young thing to fuck his husband on video.” “But I’m under a seduction malediction, if I cheated on Oz, something terrible would happen. And catching it on film? What kind of birthday present is that?” “We know what would happen if you cheated on Oz.” “How?” “Garrett’s vision. In that vision, you smelled wintergreen. In that vision, you got to see what the consequences were, and regardless of what Garrett did or did not know, he showed you the end result of cheating on Oz. You kept all your newfound size and hotness, but…” “Lost my sex drive.” “But not entirely,” Mo corrected. “So, even if you cheated on Oz, ruining the birthday present, it still benefits Oz. He gets to keep his hot stud of a husband if he wants to. The footage of the affair is a sexy keepsake. His boy toy husband now has a nearly non-existent libido such that you will never cheat on him again. But not so low you’ll never have sex with him again. And if the cheating does end the marriage, Oz can use the footage to keep everything.” “How do we know the death of my sex drive would be the consequences I would have to face?” “Because the visions don’t lie.” “I’ve been thinking about that. They have to lie. In that version of the future, Oz stayed in Germany. He’s not.” “In that version of the future, you kissed Garrett and confessed it to Oz. The two of you got into a huge fight, so when some setbacks happened, he stayed in Germany to finish the project. A month later he left you.” “I didn’t kiss Garrett,” I said. From time to time, I still forgot that I didn’t live with Garrett for a year. “So, you didn’t confess anything, you didn’t have the fight, and Oz isn’t staying in Germany. And yet, the same setbacks happened. He even told you about the setbacks in his email video. They asked him to stay in Germany.” “Damn.” “But Oz has been acting slightly odd, recently. He made that sexy call to you in the middle of the night—yes I heard it. But doesn’t he hate phone sex? He’s rushing to get this job done by April 9th come hell or high water. We know from Garrett’s vision he should just stay on for another month. He can come home for his birthday, and fly right back. It’s not life or death.” The thought had never even occurred to me. “And then he almost cried in the video? Something was up.” Mo expounded, “I think the real reason Oz has been off for the past two weeks is that someone in Germany has been trying to seduce him. He wants to get back home to you before he does something he’ll regret.” I was convinced. “So, this,” I gestured to my body, “is all for Oz?” “He’s a lucky man,” Mo responded with a sly nod. “Wow,” I said for the second time that morning. “All of this being for Oz also explains one of the weirdest things that happened over the last two weeks. Your laptop and phone died right after each other.” “Yeah, that was weird. I’d brushed it off because, you know, didn’t make my top ten list of weird things. But it was weird.” “What happened just before your phone died?” Mo asked. “I honestly don’t remember.” “You were going to tell Oz about the growth. Phone died. You tried to Skype, which would have allowed him to see the growth. Computer died. You were going to ruin his surprise. Oz doesn’t work for C&G. Had to keep him blind somehow. Anyone who tried to tell him about the changes would experience the same problem.” “Really?” Mo grabbed my cell phone and started typing, “Hey, Oz. This is Mo. Just wanted to tell you that Ian has gotten…” my phone died. He showed me the lifeless brick. “I owe you a new phone,” he joked. “So, then who paid to have the spell cast?” I asked. “You still don’t know?” I did not. Mo’s phone buzzed. He showed me the screen. “This is why I used your phone for the demo and not mine,” Mo said. He took at his phone and looked at it. “Someone has just activated the flash drive with your footage on it. And this will track them to their computer.” I looked at the clock. It was still 10 AM. “They picked up the footage early. Where are they?” “I’d rather show you,” Mo said. Internally, I groaned that Mo was taking me on a field trip, but I suspected he had his reasons. We walked to the elevator solemnly. I pushed the down button to take us to the parking garage, but Mo snaked in and pushed the up button. “Wrong floor, Eenie.” “They’re in the building?” I asked. “Yes. Of course, he is.” “You know who it is already?” “I’ve known for a while, but I couldn’t prove it until now.” “So, who is it?” The elevator arrived, and its doors opened. We stepped in, and the doors closed again. Mo pushed 10. “Ten?” I asked. “Ten,” Mo said. We rode the elevator in silence. When we arrived at the tenth floor, I let Mo off the elevator first. And I slowly followed him as he made his way to his destination. The whole time, I was unsure where we were going. When we arrived at Mr. Tyler’s office, I stopped dead. “You said Mr. Tyler had nothing to do with it.” “I did. He did have nothing to do with it. He’s not even in this office,” Mo said. Without knocking, he pushed open the door. 20 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Popular Post TQuintA Posted April 27, 2020 Author Popular Post Share Posted April 27, 2020 Chapter 42 Mr. Carr sat behind his desk, looking intently at his computer screen. When he saw us come in, he quickly turned off the monitor and stood up. “Good morning, Mr. Carr,” Mo crowed. “Good morning. Can I help you?” “Well,” Mo said, reaching over the desk and turning on the monitor, “you can tell me why you’re watching a video of my brother?” Mr. Carr collapsed back into his chair. “Okay. You got me.” “Mr. Carr paid to have the spell put on me?” “Yep,” Mo said. I finished coming into the office and closed the door behind me. “How did you know it was him?” “I first wondered if maybe he just wanted his way with you. Especially given my insight into closet cases, it seemed unlikely, but I didn’t rule it out. Then, he touched you without a fantasy happening, so that was out. He’s straight as an arrow. I actually crossed him off my suspect list for a while,” Mo admitted, “but he kept checking all the boxes. Is he rich enough to hire a caster? Most definitely. Does he have access to the accounting database? Yes, he does. Does he have the authority to hire people for the mailroom? Another yes. Could he authorize the removal of data from the database? He’s the CEO; he can do whatever he wants.” “But…” I started. Mo cut me off. “When you first changed, I bet you money that Oz had texted you just before the first transformation. You never asked why. For the change, the initial spell, to get rolling, the contractor has to have some sort of contact with the recipient. Mr. Carr called that meeting with all the managers about nothing to cover his tracks, but I suspect something about that meeting triggered the spell, and then the accounting database did the rest.” The image of the meeting came back to me: Mr. Carr ended it by clapping his hands. At the time, it barely registered, but now it seemed an awfully weird way for a C.E.O. to end a meeting. I had started changing less than five minutes later. Mo continued. “I even confronted him at lunch to see if he would confess to hiring Izzy and Jayce. He got angry,” “Anyone would get angry,” I interjected. “Remember when I first showed him the odd budget code? Before I could say anything, he flatly denied it was his. Then, he asked if Hugo and you both knew about the code discrepancy. Then he asked whose code it was. If he was genuinely concerned about the temps in the mailroom, he would’ve started by asking whose code it was. That’s what a boss does if someone’s gone rogue: look who to blame.” “That’s how you knew it was me?” Mr. Carr asked. “You also knew Jayce was a gay porn star. I just said he was an adult film star.” “That couldn’t have been what gave me away.” “Well, the giveaway was when your phone died.” Mo looked at me dead in the eyes. “It died the exact same way yours did.” He turned back to Mr. Carr, “Someone almost told Oz about his birthday present, didn’t he?” “Okay, that’s where your whole plan falls down. Mr. Carr and Oz don’t know each other.” “Really? You sure? You don’t know many of Oz’s friends, especially his friends from before he met you. How are you so confident?” “So, they know each other?” “For a while, I toyed with the idea that Mr. Carr was Sinclair, but we’ve already established how straight Mr. Carr is. Still, he and Oz do know each other.” “How?” Mr. Carr was going to answer, but Mo stopped him. “No, sir. This is my rodeo.” He turned to me and explained, “Oz went to college at Columbia; Mr. Carr went to college in New York City. Columbia is in New York City. They’re close enough in age. They might have gone to college together. That set off a red flag for me, but you clinched it for me when I paused Oz’s video email.” “How did I do that?” “You told us how Oz had his ‘first time’ in the middle of a discotheque. To borrow Oz’s word, you’re a potty-brain. You assumed he meant the first time he had sex with a man. In the middle of a discotheque? No. Not Oz. Oz who won’t send his husband a dick pic would not have public sex. He was talking about his first kiss, and you drew the wrong conclusion.” “That’s kind of sweet,” I responded. “What is in the middle of a discotheque? A dance floor.” I had a sudden recollection. “And in college Mr. Carr was kissed by his gay friend on a dance floor!” I shouted, excited. “Eenie,” Mo said, “meet Vinnie.” “Vinnie?” I said. “Pleasure to meet you proper,” Mr. Carr said. “But his name’s Calvin,” I insisted. “And no one calls him Cal,” Mo reminded me. “What does that leave?” “Vin,” I answered. “All my friends call me Vin or Vinnie,” Mr. Carr said. “He even said he was in town on personal business.” I finished the thought. “His college buddy’s 50th birthday party.” “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Mr. Carr grunted. “You did this,” I pointed to my extreme body, “for a college buddy?” “He was returning the favor,” Mo explained. “What do you mean?” “Look at these photos.” Mo moved two of Mr. Carr’s photos closer together. One was of his Barbie-doll wife; the other was of his son getting married. “I saw those already.” “This woman,” Mo tapped on the photo of the bride, “is this woman,” he tapped on the photo of the Barbie-doll woman. “No fucking way,” I said. “For my 50th birthday,” Mr. Carr said, “Ozzie hired a caster to put a seduction malediction on Cheryl, my wife.” He pronounced “seduction” as though it were two syllables. “She was out in Sedona visiting her mother for two weeks. Her mother’s blind, and no one in Sedona knows her, so no one noticed the changes. And I was in New York, so I didn’t know anything either. She kept radio silence the whole time.” “The phone would’ve broken if she’d tried to tell you,” Mo clarified. “Ozzie knew Cheryl’d never cheat on me, so he put a fun little twist on the spell. If she lasted two weeks without cheating on me, she’d get to keep the upgrade, and then I’d turn into her fantasy version of me.” Mr. Carr took the wedding photo from Mo. “This skinny little nothing was me on my wedding day. I didn’t weigh an ounce over 130 our entire marriage. She loved me, but deep inside she wanted a big, hulking bruiser, and that’s what I became.” After a pause, he added, “She also wanted a stallion with a big johnson.” He hiked up his pants. “My hair grew back too. I was bald as a cue ball.” He opened his drawer and took out another photo—it was Oz standing next to Cheryl (the new, improved one) in front of a “Happy 50th Birthday!” banner. They were kissing either cheek of a man who looked somewhat familiar. He looked like a shorter, bald, emaciated Mr. Carr. “Because she passed the test, the changes are permanent. I’ve put on a little muscle, she’s toned up, but these are our basic stats forever now, thanks to Ozzie and her. I haven’t been to a gym in a year.” “I passed the test too,” I said. “Sure did,” Mr. Carr replied. “I’m going to get to transform Oz?” I asked, practically salivating at the thought of turning my bearish hunk of a husband into a sex god. “Kind of,” Mo said. “Your subconscious does. It will make Oz appear in his ideal form for you.” I looked at Mr. Carr. “This was a lot to gamble on me, Mr. Carr.” “The way Ozzie talks about you, I knew you’d fly the test no problem. I even made it harder on you than he did Cheryl. I offered Jayce and Izzy extra money to get you to cheat, but you stayed faithful. That was part of the gift too. The knowledge that you’d never leave him. But even that wasn’t enough. I had to outdo him.” “So,” Mo stepped in, “you got the drafter to make him bigger than any new employee at the company, made the employees blind to it so business would proceed as normal, and then hired Izzy and Jayce.” “That’s utterly convoluted,” I said. “He’s been my best friend for over 30 years. And he gave me the best 50th birthday ever. I missed his wedding because I was busy with C&G. I owed him.” My wedding with Oz had been sudden—one step above eloping. Mo barely made it. “I didn’t think anyone would look at the budget codes,” Mr. Carr continued. “Who cares about mailroom temps?” “Why did you have Quincy film me?” I asked. Mr. Carr finished, “Because I wish there was footage of Cheryl when it happened to her.” Mo scoffed. “Oz doesn’t even like it when Eenie sends him dick pics. Why would he want this video?” “He’ll want this footage,” Mr. Carr assured. I nodded in agreement. “He doesn’t like dick pics because they’re so public. This is for the two of us. In private.” “I only checked the flash drive to make sure this one wasn’t empty like the last one. I haven’t seen anything dirty.” “Besides,” I added. “I want this video too.” “I hadn’t thought of that,” Mr. Carr admitted. “You also didn’t think about the interns,” Mo chimed in. “They weren’t in the accounting database; did you know that?” Mo asked. Mr. Carr shook his head. A realization suddenly hit me. “You stared at me funny when I changed in front of you!” I said. “You saw me change. You hadn’t hired anyone, and then I changed right in front of you.” “Quincy almost ruined the whole plan,” he admitted. “Did I even have a typo?” I asked. “No, you did not.” “When you realized what Quincy was doing, you had to shut it down,” Mo said. “Especially with you sniffing around.” Something clicked for me. “You made the last change.” “I was trying to undo what Quincy had done. The whole operation was snafu. Ozzie likes his men big, but this was getting ridiculous.” “So, what exactly did you do?” I asked. “I deleted the two new profiles the boy had added, then I refreshed your file.” “The database saw the refresh as a new profile,” Mo said. “When the database updated yesterday at 12:15, the spell had to make Eenie bigger than himself. Thank goodness it didn’t cause a feedback loop.” “I almost shat myself when you came in. You’re a giant.” I shrugged. “I like it. And if it’s for Oz, I could be bigger.” “Really, you want to be bigger?” Mr. Carr asked. “Parts of this spell really sucked. I didn’t know who was doing it, I’ve been maximum horny all the time, I had no control over it. Most of all, I hated the visions. But now I know there’s an end in sight, my sex drive will drop to manageable levels, and the visions are going away. And if I get to change Oz too, hell yeah, I want to be bigger.” “The spell ends when you and Ozzie get it on on his birthday,” Mr. Carr said, “and I’m pretty sure that’s going to happen three seconds after he sees you.” “Oz isn’t getting home until tonight, so the spell’s not over. And it’s before 12:15,” I reminded him. “How big do you want to be?” Mo asked. I wrote down my specifications on a piece of paper and handed it to Mo. “I like the face, but you can go bigger than this,” Mo said, disappointed. “If I left it up to you, I’d be eight feet tall and 1200 pounds with a five foot cock.” “That sounds more fun,” Mo sneered. “I would like a somewhat normal life after this.” Mo raised an eyebrow dubiously. “Somewhat,” I repeated. “Considering what’s possible, these numbers feel kind of tame,” Mo rejoined. “I didn’t pick these numbers at random. I know what Oz likes. I’ve seen his porn stash. This is for Oz, not you.” Mo shrugged in acquiescence. “Does this computer give me access to the accounting database?” Mo asked. Mr. Carr nodded and stepped away from it. “Remember to make the measurements a little smaller than that because the spell will make me bigger than the new profile.” “Yes, yes,” Mo said dismissively. “I have a fake online persona to orchestrate and an accounting profile to create.” “Don’t forget you owe me a new phone,” I said. “I’ll get it on my way home. Now go. Go home. Film it for Oz.” “Good idea,” I said. Before I left, I said, “Oh, and Vinnie, thanks for picking Oz up from the airport.” 29 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ToolShedCub Posted April 27, 2020 Share Posted April 27, 2020 Well dayum! I can't wait to read the rest! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mdlftr Posted April 27, 2020 Share Posted April 27, 2020 What a stunning reveal! And I'll say nothing else, for those of us who are still reading!! Great job! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Rorange Posted April 27, 2020 Share Posted April 27, 2020 C A N' T W A I T F O R T H E N E X T C H A P T E R!! This definitely is one of the best stories I've ever read! Amazing job! Thank u! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Maxmuscle6670 Posted April 27, 2020 Share Posted April 27, 2020 I haven’t been this invested in a MG story for years. This is amazing and well plotted! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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