big happy & sexually normal

“Ouroboros, I presume?” Ulysses asked, putting his hand out to shake. The young man shook the magician’s hand, a look of confusing washing over him. 

“You can just call me Olly,” the young man said. “I uh… I didn’t you’d show up in character!” Ulysses’s eyes narrowed. 

“Well, I thought you would take this important business matter seriously!” he replied, his voice growing cold. 

“Not to worry,” Olly said. With the snap of Olly’s fingers, his jeans darkened, the denim softening, his polo tucked into his shirt, more buttons growing into place to change into a full red button down shirt, two sleeves of a suit rose up his arms and a suit jacket engulfed his torso, as if an invisible servant put the jacket on for him.

“It’s not too difficult to get dressed up!” Olly said. Ulysses rolled his eyes. 

Why does this boy feel the need to show off, even when we’re alone?! he thought. 

“May I come in?” Ulysses asked. 

“Please!” Olly said, stepping out of the way and gesturing for the older magician to walk through. Ulysses walked through, kicked off his shoes, and set them down by the door. The apartment was a single room, with an alcove for a kitchen, where many pots pans, and plates filled the sink. Off to the left there was a cheap futon with many blankets, pillows, and a raccoon squishmallow sitting upon it, and across from the couch was a small TV. In the center of the room sat a circular table, with a bowl of fruit sitting in the center, and on either side sat a cup of tea upon a saucer, a deck of playing cards next to one cup of tea. Ulysses took off his suit jacket, and set it down on one of the chairs by the table, and sat by the cup without the playing cards. Olly sat across from him. Ulysses stayed seated with his hands folded while Olly picked up the playing cards, shuffled them absentmindedly, and smiled at the top hatted magician. 

“So, why did you ask to meet with me?” Olly asked in a cheerful voice. 

“Ouroboros,” he started. “I commend you on your performative prowess. I have been a magician for almost thirty years, and you, a young man, have made a name for yourself six months after you began. You’re a true prodigy.” 

“Thank you!” Olly said, beaming. “That means a lot coming from you.” 

“That being said,” Ulysses muttered, “I’ve noticed the audience you’ve garnered… has largely come from my former fans. I am all for competition, but this is more than competition… it’s theft. My career is on the line.”

Olly’s smile faded, and he furrowed his brow. 

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” Olly said. “You know… I didn’t take your audience on purpose, and I didn’t want to take your audience… I’m sure they’ll come running back in time! You have a charm that I don’t.” 

“I cannot risk my career by simply waiting around,” Ulysses stated, ignoring the compliment. He shifted, and rummaged through his pocket, before placing a wad of cash on the table. Olly stopped shuffling, and his eyes got wide, before he looked up at Ulysses with confusion.

“I want you to teach me your big trick, your main act. I thought if I knew what you know, we could, perhaps, be rivals once again.” 

The young magician sat back in his chair, shuffling his cards again and smiling sheepishly. 

“Oh Ulysses,” he said. “I’m sure you know that a magician never reveals his secret.” 

“No, I’m afraid I do not,” the old magician huffed. “That’s merely something you say to children so they don’t know our secrets.”

“Or something you say to rivals so they don’t take your act.” 

Ulysses slid the wad of cash across the table, closer to the young magician. 

“That’s why I’m making you an offer,” he stated. “I understand why you may be apprehensive. We work in an industry of lies and trickery. You are worried that — if your secret gets out — you’ll be called a hack, a charlatan. I assure you: everyone knows that your ‘magic’ is merely slight of hand, and lighting effects. Our art form is not about convincing fools that you have powers. It is about using your intuition to create an illusion that captures the minds and hearts of even the most cynical people, to show them the impossible. So even if I know your secret, I know that a young talented artist like yourself can come up with a new trick, an even better routine.” 

Olly’s welcoming cheerful demeanor dissolved as his eyes darkened, his gaze burrowing through Ulysses with a deadly scowl. 

“Did you just say that I’m fake?” he grumbled. His voice had a sharp edge to it, but he giggled between his words a bit, as if this accusation was amusing to him. 

“Well, of course,” Ulysses whispered. “Magic isn’t r-“ 

“My magic is real!” Olly shouted. “Very real!” The young magician bolted upward, jumping out of his chair so fast that he knocked it over.  He slowly made his way around the table, prancing toward the older magician with the poise of an angry tiger. 

Ulysses recoiled, pressing his back up against his chair, his eyes widened. 

“Are you mad?” he gasped. 

“Maybe your audience was right to leave you,” he grunted. “Doubting magic itself shows you’re a hack. So maybe I can teach you a thing or two.” Olly reached into the pocket of his jacket grabbing something with a click! Ulysses saw it in his hand, the instrument of Olly’s main act: a golden pocket watch. 

“N-no,” Ulysses whispered. “Absolutely not!” He went to stand up, but Olly pressed a hand onto Ulysses’s shoulder, forcing him to sit back down. With the flick of Olly’s wrist, the pocket watch shot out from his hand, the cover popping open, the watch dangling in front of Ulysses’s face with wide swings. 

“Relax,” Olly cooed, his voice taking on a slightly mocking intonation. “You said yourself that this is fake, so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about, right?” 

“Yes, but-“

“Then just follow the watch with your eyes. You’re smart, right? You can find the secret of my act. You can stay awake, and show that I’m full of baloney, show the world that maybe all of those people were just actors.” 

Ulysses didn’t need to be told to follow the watch, for his gaze fell upon the watch absentmindedly. It was purely instinctive to look at an object dangling in front of his eyes. He knew he could look away, and that he should look away, but he did want to prove Olly wrong. He was smart, and he wouldn’t fall for any nonsense such as ‘hypnosis,’ especially a method that was so cliche and antiquated. So, he furrowed his brow, examining the watch, making sure he stayed fully focused on it, that he didn’t lose track of it with each swing, that he stayed completely awake and alert for the entire time he watched. 

“It’s not going to work,” Ulysses stated. “Hypnosis, in actuality, is a matter of psychological suggestion. I’m not going to go into trance just by looking at some shiny object.” 

“Watch it go right… and left… and right… and left.” 

Right and left and right and left, Ulysses thought. What’s he doing? Is he going to make me forget my rights and lefts? I won’t let him. The old magician strained his mind, focusing on the directions it swung, counting how many times it swung, doing whatever it took to keep himself alert. After a moment,  he blinked, and stared straight ahead, focusing his gaze on the cup of tea in front of him, managing to look away from the watch. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Oh, you have failed, my friend,” Ulysses cooed. “I watched your silly watch for long enough, and didn’t fall asleep. Now I’m not even looking at it.” 

Olly caught the watch in his hand and closed it. 

“Then why are you still sitting here?“

“Well, I-”

“You can get up and leave if you want, but that’s not what you want, is it?” Olly wasn’t even swinging the watch, but Ulysses had become so focused on the way the watch swung, it left an impression in his mind’s eye, now able to feel the rhythm of each swing like the consistent beating of a drum in his mind. It was a soothing, consistent pulse that he couldn’t let go of.

“You’re here because you want to keep looking at the watch. So much so that you’re imagining a watch right now… one swinging right, and left… and right… and left…“ 

Each time Olly said a direction, the old magician’s eyes followed. The more Ulysses tried to tell himself not to think about the watch, the more his subconscious latched onto that rhythm in his mind, the more his eyes began to move left and right on their own. With each swing of the invisible watch, he grew more and more focused, more and more absorbed in the task of counting each swing. 

Olly released the watch again, the cover popping open, and stopped counting each swing. Ulysses’s eyes were now fixed on the watch, at first unable to look away, and then unwilling to look away. As he watched it swing, he felt as if he himself was rocking back and forth,  as if he had grabbed ahold of a vine on a tree, and gently swayed in the wind. Each swing made him feel calmer, and looser. His expression softened as the previously loud, intent counting in his mind turned to a gentle focus.

“That’s right,” Olly cooed. “It feels so good to follow the watch. When you watch it swing, you don’t need to worry about anything else. You could just sit here, in this moment, and watch it go left, and right. And each time it goes left, and right, you’re feeling a little more relaxed, a little more calm… And the more you feel calm, the fewer thoughts go through your mind, the more easy it is to focus on the watch.”

His head bobbed back and forth with the watch, his beginning to lull open, his eyelids growing heavy. When listening to Olly’s words, he found that each swing did in fact make him feel calmer and calmer, all of his muscles relaxing, his entire body feeling warm. He felt warmer and heavier until every part of his body felt numb. He couldn’t move, and why would he want to? It felt so good to just relax and follow the watch. In this calm state, his thoughts failed to form, each one surfacing as a nonsensical phrase, or a fragment of a sentence, before his focus fell on the watch once again. 

“Good, just keep following the watch, look at it go left and right… But there’s something else you may have missed about the watch… do you see it?” 

Ulysses looked closer at the watch, his eyes focusing on each hand… the hour hand pointed at the three… minute hand was pointed at the eight, and… the second hand…

“The second hand…” Ulysses mumbled, “it’s going… counterclockwise…”

“That’s it… watch the time tick back, and cede each minute to the future… Each ticking second, you don’t remember, because it hasn’t happened… And then each second turns to an hour, and soon you’ll forget hours and hours of your day.” 

Each word Olly said came true. He forgot the hour he took to commute, he forgot eating breakfast, he forgot when he woke up, he forgot the night before. With each second that ticked by he ceded another hour of his life, and it felt so good to let go of, so good to leave room in his mind. 

“And then the seconds turn to days… and the days to weeks…” 

His mind felt lighter, emptier. HIs heart had a brief flutter of fear, as he watched his life play backwards, as he saw his past few shows undo themselves, as his memories of family gatherings faded away. Yet somehow, for some reason… He felt a strange euphoria in letting go. It felt good to know less. 

“O-okay… Olly,” he muttered. “You… win. Please, let me-“ 

“And then to months… then to years… then to centuries, then millennia. Each tick of the needle is a millennia rewinding. You remember who you are, but time is still rewinding.”

His memories came back to him, all at once, however something about himself, something about the time, was still changing.  He could still remember everything, but time was moving backwards, at a more rapid rate than before. What did that mean, though?

“...Olly?” the magician asked. 

Snap! “Sleep.”

Ulysses’s eyes fell closed and his head lulled forward. His consciousness waned to the point where he didn’t remember where he was or what was going on, he just knew he felt so relaxed, so calm, so content, and that he didn’t want to move. 

“Just feeling so relaxed so calm… going deeper and deeper every time I say the word sleep.”

Olly repeated this type of phrase a few times, and each time he said ‘sleep’ Ulysses would fall into a deeper and deeper state of trance, feeling far more calm than he had before, feeling more relaxed than he knew was possible. Each time he heard ‘sleep’ he felt heavier and heavier, as if he was sinking deeper and deeper into a thoughtless, relaxed slumber. He felt as if he was floating in nothingness, no thoughts, no worries, just calm… Then the induction began to change…

“Feeling so good, so relaxed. Just listening to the sound of my voice and sleep. Just keep listening to the sound of my voice, letting me do the work, while you relax and sleep. Going so deep, feeling so calm, knowing you’ll go deeper, and feel better, the more you listen to my voice, the more you listen to my words, and sleep. Feeling better, calmer, happier, the more you listen to my voice, the more you believe…” 

Ulysses’s focus latched onto the words, soaking them in more and more, unable to think of anything else, just wanting to listen. The voice, whomever it belonged to, was so satisfying, such a nice voice… He wanted to keep listening to it forever. 

“… and you want to keep obeying my words, and keep listening to me… Every word I say: you will believe without question, because it is truth. Every part of your reality is at the whims of my words. Now when I snap my fingers, you will be alert and awake once more, yet time will still tick backwards, millennia and millennia at a time… and you will become one with that time.” 

Snap!

Ulysses lifted his head, and opened his eyes, glancing around the room and taking in his surroundings once more. The watch was now sitting in the center of the table, and the young magician sat across from him, beaming. 

“So,” Olly chirped. “How do you feel?”

“Calm… I guess,” Ulysses shrugged. “That was… a little scary.” The man felt warm, but unlike before, it wasn’t a comforting warmth, but instead it felt as thought the room was getting stuffier, hotter, like he could break into a sweat any second. He tugged at the collar of his shirt and fanned himself with it. 

“If you’re hot you can take off your shirt,” Olly said. 

Ulysses nodded, unbuttoned his shirt, and slipped his arms out of each of the sleeves, revealing the white tank-top he wore as an undershirt. He leaned forward, and folded his hands on the table, staring straight at Olly, waiting for his response. Even after taking his shirt off, however, Ulysses still felt a bit warm. The hairs on his back, his arms, his legs, and his nape all grew longer and longer, covering more and more of his skin. His five-o’clock shadow grew thicker and bushier, while the short hair on his scalp grew past his ears, down the sides of his face, and over his neck, nearly reaching shoulder level. 

“So, do we have a deal?” 

“Deal, what deal is that?” Ulysses asked, scratching his head, both out of confusion and from itchiness. 

“That you’ll come work for me, as my assistant.” 

Ulysses scratched under his arm as he continued scratching his head. The itch became even stronger as the hair all over his body grew even thicker, now becoming brown fur. He furrowed his brow, and looked down at the table as he tried to process what Olly had said, tried to remember when he had agreed to that.  Pressure emerged in his forehead, putting a weight on his thoughts. Before his mind felt sluggish, unthinking as sleepiness took hold. Now his mind felt heavy, his thoughts blunt. Abstract concepts simplified. 

“Hmmm… don’t remember… agreeing to that.”

“Well, what do you remember?” Ulysses looked up to the side, stroking his chin. He pushed his bottom lip forward and furrowed his brow as he pondered Olly’s question. What did he remember? He found he had forgotten more than just this supposed agreement, as he had forgotten how the start of their interaction had gone, and now: the past five minutes or so were seeming fuzzier and fuzzier. Something about… going backwards? It felt like it was on the tip of his tongue but the more he tried the reach for it, the harder it was for him to catch within his own mind. 

Soon, he forgot the very question, and he tried to remember what the question was. Then he forgot that thought. There was this presence on the very edge of his mind, a memory or a thought that he was trying to grasp, and that feeling kept getting more intense the more he thought about it, to the point where this ‘unknowing’ state of mind was his default state of mind. He pushed his lip forward the more and more he thought, until his jaw began to stretch farther forward, giving him an underbite. The pressure in his forehead intensified to a pain as his forehead swelled, extending upward and outward, his brow extending above his eyes, while the back of his skull compressed inward. He put both hands over his head, and closed his eyes.

“Mmmm…” he grunted. “Thinking hurt.”

“That’s okay, I can help you remember! First of all… I know you said you’re a fan of my work. And you wanted to aid me in my craft as… you’re too dumb to do magic on your own.” 

“Me… too dumb…” Ulysses repeated. He lifted his head and stared at Olly with his eyes glazed over. His confusion grew tenfold, yet he found ecstasy in unknowing, as the pain took over his brain and the thoughts left his mind. It felt so good to be dumb. 

“And I agreed to hire you because you’re strong. Why don’t you show me how strong you are?” 

Ulysses picked his arms off the table, sat up straighter, and flexed both of his biceps. His back and shoulders shifted with satisfying cracks and pops, not as if the bones themselves were breaking, but like the crack of one’s knuckles. His shoulders popped outward and grew larger while the entire top half of his torso grew wider, his spine extending to grow longer, but also curving so he was more hunched over. Both of his arms grew longer and longer his muscles becoming thicker and thicker, the growth starting with his deltoids, then moving down his biceps and triceps, down his forearms, until finally: his hands grew twice their original size, two hairy gorilla paws bursting through his cloth white gloves. His abs tightened and swelled becoming toned and forming a six-pack, but below them his belly swelled and fattened, becoming more bloated and flabby, hanging over his belt line. 

From his sudden growth, from showing off his strength, he felt a newfound sense of power, a fire within. This ‘fire’ mixed with his unknowing mindset to create something more wild, something hard to contain, deep within himself. He felt restless, energetic, happy, angry, antsy, tense, everything all at once… His eyes glazed over some more, but an angry animalistic spark shown in his eyes. The mix of both confusion and wild anger in his eyes made him look less human. There was only one way he could express himself in that moment, and it was an outlet he desperately needed. 

His massive paws grabbed a hold of his tank top and he gave it one good yank to rip it apart, exposing his torso, revealing that his chest and stomach had hardly any hair on them, despite the rest of his body being furry. From the heat, however, his chest and stomach were covered in sweat. He balled up both hands into fists, placed each fist right below his pecs, and pounded his chest. 

“Ook. Ook. Ook.” He grunted. He stared off into space as he satisfied this primitive urge, just knowing that this action felt right to him, that it felt good. The more he pounded his chest, the more powerful he felt, the emptier his mind became. In that moment he knew he was strong, fit, unstoppable. He felt like he had the energy and the determination to lift an entire car. 

Then he stopped himself, a brief bout of clarity coming about… 

“What… am I doing?” he muttered.

“In return for your service, I’ll pay you with these.” Olly picked up a banana from the bowl of fruit and held it out for Ulysses to take. The gorilla-man’s pupils dilated as he followed the banana with his eyes, excitement and hunger rumbling inside of him. He reached out to take it, but then Olly pulled it away. 

“Hey, don’t take it with those hands! They’re all sweaty from a second ago when you pounded your chest. Use your other hands.”

My… other hands? 

His mind grew hazy again as he looked down at his white socks. He wiggled his toes, bending and flexing them, noticing they were able to stretch more easily the more he wiggled them. He saw his feet contorting underneath his socks, bending into odd shapes as he was able to move each to individually, curl it, an make different motions with each of his feet. A hole tore into each of his socks, and he was able to rip them apart the more he moved his feet, revealing two hairy hand-like appendages. 

He lifted his legs, set both hands on the table, and reached out to grab the banana in his his left foot-hand. Then he pulled it toward himself and unpeeled it with his right foot-hand, before sticking it in his mouth, munching on it with gusto. It was far more tastier than he remembered, and he wanted more! His thoughts waned some more, his mind growing more and more quiet, a thick haze of confusion and stupidity taking over. 

“See, I knew you would like that as payment!” Olly said, “being a gorilla and all.”

Ulysses finally grabbed onto a thought within his mind, forming in his head louder than before: ‘what… me doing?’ He observed his situation with more clarity, anger and irritation bubbling up inside of him. No…  he thought. This… not right! He didn’t know what he was supposed to be, or what he was supposed to do, but he knew that he wasn’t himself. 

“Grrr… no!” he grunted, putting his hands over his head. “Wrong!” 

“Wrong?” Olly frowned. “Well… why don’t you fight me about it?” 

His anger nearing a tipping point, he decided to show his aggression one of the only ways he knew how to. Scowling at the boy, he stood up from his chair, clenched his fists, and pounded his chest. 

“Ook! Ook! Ook! Ooh…” he faltered once he realized what he was doing. He lowered his head in shame and then pouted. 

“Me… not gorilla,” he grumbled. He sifted through his brain, trying to catch something, anything, of his past, so he could remember who he was, so he could combat these urges. But no matter how hard he tried, these other thoughts, instincts, and memories remained just out of reach. 

“Hmm,” Olly said, stroking his chin. “If you’re not a gorilla, why are you scratching yourself?” 

Ulysses’s mind went blank, as he scratched his head with one hand, and scratched under his arm with the other. He crossed his eyes and ooked some more. “If you’re not a gorilla, why are you on all fours?” 

Ulysses’s back hunched forward, bending in such a way that forced him to stand with his fists on the ground. 

“Grrr… stop!” 

“Sure, I’ll stop, I’ll stop, as long as you do one thing.”

“What?” 

“Tell me your name,” Olly said. The magician smirked

Easy! Ulysses thought. Me know name! 

“Me name is-“

“Gorillas find it hard to think.” 

Ulysses’s eyes crossed again, and he scratched his head. Now… even his name felt out of just out of reach. 

“Me… name…” 

“Gorillas can’t form sentences.” 

His jaw fell slack and his eyelids felt heavy again. His mind became emptier than it ever had been, his stupidity reaching its peak, and for the second time, he found ecstasy in his stupidity. Not being able to find his thoughts, not being able to think… it was funny! Nothing made sense to him, making everything amusing. His squirming slippery thoughts that were impossible to pin down tickled at his brain, causing him to smile. 

“Name… Uli… Ool ee… Ooh eeh… Ook ook ook…” He lightly pounded his chest. 

“Oh what a shame,” Olly said in a sing-songy voice. “Looks like you couldn’teven say your name. It makes sense because gorillas can’t speak.”

Upon hearing that sentence, the gorilla man felt tingles all over his face and a tickle on his nose.

“Mmm… uh. Ung…” He closed his eyes and tilted his head upward, feeling as the flesh on his face began to soften like clay and as all ability of speech left his mind and his mouth. His nose retracted, going from a pointy triangular nose to a small bump on his face, but at the same time, his nostrils flared, expanding wider and wider until his nose was just a set of two large fleshy nostrils. He gritted his teeth, all of them growing larger, sharper, and crooked. Finally, his jaw pulled farther forward, and the sides of his face became rounder, and the sides of his mouth widening, pulling toward the sides of his face,  forming the snout of a gorilla.

“OOK! OOK! OOK!” The gorilla stood up, and once more he ooked and pounded his chest with pride, with joy, and with fervor. He felt so good to be big and strong, to have so much energy. This sheer physical power felt even better than his former performative power, felt even better than the way everyone applauded him on stage. Most importantly: there was no doubt in his mind, no stray thoughts or worries to ruin the moment. It was pure, raw emotion.

With a subtle smile on his face, the magician took the gorilla’s top hat.

“I’ll be taking that,” Olly said, putting it on his head.  The gorilla reached a hand to try and grab the hat, opening his mouth in protest, but then faltered. He didn’t know what the boy was holding, and suddenly, he didn’t know why he wanted it. He didn’t know why he would want anything except for bananas. So he drew his hand back, and scratched under his own arm. Olly put his hand under the gorilla’s chin, drawing his gaze up to meet his own. 

“Do you still think that my magic is fake?” Olly asked. The words did not register in the gorilla’s mind at all. Not knowing what to do, he grunted, reached up to touch Olly’s nose. The magician giggled, gently pushing the gorilla’s hand away. 

“Okay, new assistant. Let’s practice some of my tricks, eh?” 

Staring at his own reflection in the green room mirror, Ulysses straightened his tie, secured his tophat in place, and pat down his suit with his large simian hands, brushing off any dust that settled on it. Once he was done straightening up, he took a bite of the banana he held in his right foot, tossed the peel to the side, and bounded up next to Olly, now getting in character as Ouroboros. Ulysses pounded his bare chest, exposed from his open suit jacket, and grinned up at the magician, and who smiled back at him, patting him on the head. 

The rooms would have been pitch black if it weren't for the neon lights behind the black glassy walls, ceilings, and floors, all of which were spotless and polished, as if someone had just cleaned them seconds before hand. Not even Rob’s boots dirtied or smudged the surfaces. The lights constantly shifted behind the walls, displaying different letters and numbers that seemed to be codes he didn’t understand, and many other people with visors wandered the halls. 

“Thanks for volunteering for Cumulus,” Andy said to Rob, looking over his shoulder. 

“Volunteer?!” Rob huffed, “I thought this was a job!” 

“Oh it is! Just not many people apply for it.” 

Rob stayed silent, furrowing his brow and scratching his head. It made no sense as to why so few people would apply. With ‘free housing’ and a ‘free cellular plan,’ it would be a no brainer for anyone to apply, even someone who doesn’t usually work in construction. He wasn’t sure if this ‘cellular plan’ was any good, though. He didn’t know much about Cumulus as a company. He knew they made pretty good visors… but were their phones any good? 

“Now don’t be nervous, Rob.”

“Nervous?!” Rob grunted. “Why would you ever think a guy like me would be nervous about doing their job?!” 

“Oh I don’t mean about the job… I mean about the whole activation process.”

“The what?” Rob asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I know it might be a strange change of pace, but once you get in uniform you’ll get used to it fast.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Rob grumbled. 

“Trust me,” Andy said. “I’m sure you’ll settle in and get real comfortable.” 

Rob stayed silent. He didn’t want to admit it but what Andy said began to make him feel a little nervous. He had thought he signed up for a regular construction job. What was he talking about “activation process?” What was he talking about, regarding settling in and getting comfortable? He never did any ‘settling’ on the clock, and his job was always far from comfortable! 

All of the neon lights became orange in the next hallway they turned down. They wandered for another thirty seconds in silence before coming across an orange rectangular outline. Andy tapped his watch up to the outline, and a slab of the wall slid away, revealing a doorway. Rob raised his eyebrows in surprise, rearing his head backward. The door was completely flush with the wall, where there wasn’t even the slightest crack between the two. He never would have guessed there was a doorway there. Andy put out his arm, inviting Rob to walk through. 

Rob stopped short when he stepped inside, jaw dropping at the sight. It was a small, mostly empty room except for one figure in the center of the room, with a full rubber suit with neon orange markings, matching up with the markings on the wall. The helm of the suit that sat atop what he figured was a mannequin had a rubber protrusion in the front, sort of like the snout of an animal, except there was no slit for the mouth, or any kind of nose. And it had two ears near the top. 

Rob stared in shock at the suit, at first confused and bewildered at the sight, before slowly becoming more intrigued, understanding his situation now. This wasn’t a regular old construction job, this was a recruitment to be one of those “drones” all of the young adults were talking about. He squinted, taking a few steps toward the suit, slowly approaching until he stood at a distance that would violate the suit’s space. 

He examined the suit from helm to boot.  He had originally thought of these drones as frivolous, that they were just another futile and offensive advancement in tech by the younger generation… but the more he looked at the suit, the more enamored he felt with it. An imitation hard-hat sat atop this “animal’s head,” pulled over the helm’s “eyes” to conceal them. The suit was stout, and had rubber padding around the biceps, triceps, abs, pecs, thighs and calves, making the mannequin look more muscular.  He brushed his hands over the shiny rubber. He had never felt a surface so smooth and polished. He squeezed the rubber, able to grip down on the material without much resistance at all.

The suit was complete with heavy rubber gloves and thick soled rubber boots, but the most fascinating part of the suit was the long, flat, and hefty tail that extended behind it, similar to a beaver’s tail. It was big enough and long enough for it to rest on the floor. He ran his hands across it, and laughed to himself. He lifted the tail and dropped it, which caused a hardy thump to echo through the empty room. Rob smiled. 

“So what do you think?” Andy asked from behind him. Andy’s overly friendly corporate smile was replaced by a mischievous smirk, but Rob didn’t see for he couldn’t take his eyes off of the suit. He didn’t even fully register what the intern had said.

“Is this suit all mine?” Rob asked. 

“No.” This response sobered Rob up. He stood up straight, clenched his fists, and scowled at the intern, over his shoulder

“What the hell do you mean?!” He hollered, “why did you bring me in here, then?!” 

Andy grinned at Rob, looking as if he was attempting not to laugh. 

“To meet your boss.” 

Rob’s eyes widened with horror, realization dawning on him. He felt two heavy hands grab his shoulders. He flinched whipping his head around to see the suit standing up straight, the suits helm getting up in his face. 

That wasn’t a mannequin, he thought, that was a drone-guy, and I touched him! 

He opened his mouth, about to scream or yell, not being able to hold back his fear and surprise, but before he could, the drone squeezed his shoulders, and then let go, and then squeezed them again, massaging them and loosening his muscles. Chills ran down Rob’s spine, his fear setting, tension dissolving. Rob knew he should be scared, still, and at first thought this bout of calmness was completely reflexive, that his body was telling him to be relaxed just because of the positive physical touch, but no. This calming sensation increased far beyond a natural, growing more and more as the drone rubbed his shoulders. 

“This is, CE-001,” Andy stated, “The admin of the CE drones, and you are to obey its every command without question.” 

It held Rob’s face with the rubber gloves, rubbing his cheeks with its thumbs. Rob’s eyes fell closed, for a moment, a relaxed smile overtaking his face. His heart fluttered, the calmness increasing tenfold, accompanied by a lightness in his spirit. When he opened his eyes, he found that loving feeling had returned, that he felt deeply enamored with this suit… no, he felt enamored with his boss, with his admin. He loved his admin’s physique, its tail,  the way his admin’s suit shone, the way its rubber felt, the way it physically comforted him. He couldn’t look away… and he found this feeling only grew stronger with every second the drone held his face. 

He couldn’t think in opposition of these thoughts, because the bounds of his mind were shrinking with every second the rubber touched him, and with every second he stared at the shiny suit. His admin’s very presence somehow contaminated Rob’s mind. Rob was brainwashed simply by being near it, and he wanted to get closer and closer, to be inside a suit like that, himself. 

“CE-001, you may begin the activation process,” Andy said. Rob heard footsteps, echoing away from him, then the shiny door opening and sliding shut behind him. 

The admin let go of Rob’s face, then pressed one palm against the center of Rob’s chest. At first it the rubber felt the same as before, but then it felt softer, and warmer. As the drone pulled its hand away, the rubber softened and stretched out like melted cheese and, before it settled as a black viscous splatter on Rob’s shirt.  The admin raised its tail, and began thumping it in a rhythmic pattern. 

“—•— —• • • •—••”

Rob had no way of deciphering the code, yet somehow he understood. The code spoke to something unconscious in his mind, and he involuntarily moved to follow the command, dropping to his knees and, looking up at his admin for further instructions. But before he could receive instructions he shuddered as he felt the rubber on his chest grow warmer and warmer, spreading across his chest, and pouring down his torso like molasses. The edges of the splatter, however moved in weblike patterns, minuscule black dots creeping crawling across his torso and forming hexagonal shapes. Little did he know that these were nanobots within the rubber, linking together to form his suit. He heard a sizzling, and didn’t understand what it was until he felt the touch of the warm rubber on his skin, and realized that this fluid was eating away at his clothing. 

Rob panted, his eyes rolling backward, and his mouth watered at sensation of being immersed in this warm rubber. It covered his whole chest, and began to wrap around and cover all of his back as well. It poured down his arms, creeping up each of his fingers, and engulfing his hands, turning his hairy arms and and calloused hands into smooth, featureless, rubbery limbs. In addition, multiple patches thicker patches of rubber congregated over his abs, pecs, biceps and triceps, padding his muscles, and making him appear more buff on top of his already somewhat rotund physique. 

Orange dye swirled around in this rubber as it spread over his body, and as some of the rubber cooled, dried, and hardened, the dye spiraled into shape, becoming the cumulus logo on his left shoulder, his ID, CE-849 on his right shoulder, and across his chest. The dye formed a ring around his writs, and two horizontal bars on the back of each hand. 

As the rubber began to pour down his legs, it ate away at his pants, and surrounded his legs, tightening around his behind, and around his privates. The soft warm sensation sent intense shudders all over his body as he felt hot, a tightness growing more and more intense in his gut. A small bump began to form in his rubber pants as his dick grew hard, growing longer and longer, but more rubber began to congregate in between his legs. Said rubber becoming especially soft and especially warm, cushioning these parts, only making him feel more aroused. He brought one of his rubber hands down to touch the rubbery bulge, and shut his eyes tightly, feeling more and more on the edge, his level of pleasure higher than it ever was before. 

But then the rubber solidified, keeping his cock and balls fixed into place. He played with the bulge, trying so hard to cum, but he only kept growing more and more aroused, more and more edged, but unable to fully satisfy himself. He looked down; where his privates once were visible sat a soft rubber sphere, a bright orange lock symbol in the center. It didn’t take a genius to tell what this meant: he was stuck in this ecstatic and aroused state, and he would never be fully satisfied. He rubbed his nullge more and more, in denial that he was unable to cum, but he kept growing hotter, sweatier, his gut feeling tighter, panting faster and faster, making his own state worse. He was locked… stuck… and this tension and arousal would last forever. 

His eyes rolled far back in his head, to the point where the whites of his eyes were the only visible. His jaw dropped far, leaving his mouth wide open, streams and streams of drool dripping down his chin and down his chest, droplets rolling down his rippling rubber abs, which expanded and contracted with every sharp breath. 

The rubber continued creeping down his legs, melting down his pants, making them become shiny and smooth. They finally reached his feet, where they ate away at his boots. Once they covered his feet completely, more and more rubber congregated around his feet, hardening more than any other part of his suit so far, turning into thick rubber boots, the thin rubber laces pre-tied. 

“•—•  •• ••• •” the admin thumped its tail once more, the pattern the booming ‘thuds’ formed hitting Rob’s subconscious mind, making him spring to his feet. He held his two gloved hands at his sides but couldn’t resist for long, bringing them to his chest and sliding them up and down his torso, feeling the two smooth surfaces slide against each other. 

“••• — ——— •— —•” 

Rob’s hands snapped to his sides, standing at attention. He was not completely frozen, however,  as he still panted, a big smile on his face, but his eyes teared up, barely able to handle the tension for any longer. 

“Please,” Rob panted, gesturing down at his nullge, “help.” 

The drone put up its index finger and wagged it back and forth. Rob took a sharp and shaky inhale, bracing himself for whatever was to come. The drone pulled out a rubber cylinder. It had uneven grooves around the side of it that imitated the bark of a tree. 

“— • — • •••• • •— —“ 

Rob took the rubber cylinder, and stared at it for a moment. He didn’t consciously know what the drone’s command was, yet he knew that for some reason this mini synthetic log just looked so… appetizing. The more he looked at it, the more he had a stronger urge to bite down. He shoved it into his mouth, biting down on it. Somehow, it did taste like bark, and for whatever reason, this flavor was satisfying to him. His eyes rolled backward at the satisfaction of the taste.

The drone reached forward and pressed on the rubber cylinder, pressing it further into Rob’s mouth. This caused Rob to gag and wretch, but he couldn’t spit it out, as the gag had softened, just like the rubber on his chest, and now spread outside his mouth, around the sides of his mouth, and over his skull. A thick layer of rubber settled over his nose and mouth, nullifying his features, and a thinner layer settled over his eyes and ears, muffling his hearing and blurring his vision.However, above his old ears, two blobs of rubber formed into a a new set of rounded beaver ears. The rubber over his nose and mouth stretched forward, leaving space for air, for him to breathe, forming a similar snout to the other drone. The rubber spread across his scalp, eating away at his hair, making the top of his head shiny and smooth, both in and out of the suit, at long last making him fully suited from head to toe.

Something slapped his scalp and weighed on it. It took a moment for Rob to realize it was the same kind of hard hat rubber hard hat that was pulled over the other drone’s eyes. Now: it covered his scalp and his eyes, and rested upon his rubber snout. A bright light flickering on hurt his eyes. Rob could make out a Cumulus logo on the screen for a moment, before the light flashed from white to orange, various different shades of orange whirling toward the center of the screen in a spiral. 

Rob’s nullge twitched, the spiral making him harder, hotter, more on edge, yet it also brought about a new sensation of calm. The suit felt warmer and softer, and no longer felt as oppressive now, and instead felt like a comforting hug. He felt like he was floating, like he was melting into the rubber, becoming one with the suit. His eyelids drooped. All of the racing thoughts in his mind, the anxious spiral from his arousal, all of it dissolved, the spiral melting it away. 

Then… the left over “new job” anxiety went away as well… then the anxiety of cooking every day, and the anxiety of paying taxes, the overwhelming loneliness he felt at the pub every week, the bubbling hatred for his former coworkers and his boss… those things melted away as well… then the traumatic memories, the painful memories, the embarrassing memories… the good memories… all memories weighed on his mind in the past, so it was best to drop all of them, to feel lighter, to feel freer… then it dropped its name, after all, a name was just extra weight as well, if no one would use it. It didn’t need thoughts, it didn’t need memories, or a personality. As long as it was safe in its suit, watching its spiral, everything would be okay. 

The blissful calm sensation contrasting with the intense arousal brought it into a euphoric state, both calm and energized, its mind empty and its heart full. This state also allowed for the admin to fully take control; the emptiness made the new drone more suggestible, more open to new commands, whereas the arousal kept the new drone close to the admin. The more the drone was aroused, the more it would want this sensation to continue, the less it would want to leave. 

The new drone CE-849 flinched as it felt a rubber glove on its nullge. It leaned in closer to squish its nullge against the rubber glove, to intensify the feeling further. The glove tightened its grip, then it began squeezing in a pattern, just like the patterns that the admin thumped its tail to. 

“— — — —••• • —•— — — — •” 

It understood this pattern, nodding as it agreed to obey. It would do anything to be touched in this way some more. Its visor was already programming it to take pleasure in commands, but now commands were made in a form of pleasure. 

“•••• ••— — — •” 

The drone spread its arms and wrapped them around its admin. The admin leaned in, and wrapped its arms around the drone, both of their nullges pressing against one another. The drone’s heart felt warm, its host smiling within its suit as it felt comforted by the hug. However it did not know this wasn’t the purpose of the hug. The admin ran its hands up and down the drone’s back, the gloves sliding up and down the shiny rubber suit with ease. It settled its hands on the drone’s lower back, before its arms swelled. They grew twice as big, three times as big, before the rubber softened and sent a heavy stream of viscous black goo rolling down its arms and behind the drone’s back. 

A mass of rubber began to congregate on the drone’s lower back, at first only a few pounds heavy, then growing to be twice as big, then three times as big. The mass grew thick, but also horizontal and flat. There was an intense tingling in his butt as the nanobots worked together to form a new synthetic appendage, sending electricity through one another, and stinging it in the behind as a side effect to their work. This tingling effect made its nullge twitch again, and this twitching caused the admin’s nullge to twitch as well. The rubbery mass on the drone’s back grew more and more until it rivaled its own body weight, the rubber hardened, and then settled on the floor.  It flopped and thumped behind it repeatedly, tingling more and more. The drone found he could not control its own tail, in that moment, and it didn’t know why. Needless to say, the way the electricity tingled made it feel more satisfied, yet, making his nullge swell up. 

The admin took two steps back, but reached forward and grabbed ahold of the drone’s nullge again, squeezing it rhythmically.

“•• —••?” 

The drone found that it could now understand the code, not only subconsciously, but understand it just well as its former native language. It reached forward to grab its admin’s nullge to reply, but it smacked its hand out of the way. 

“— •— •• •—••,” the admin stated, the squeezes making the drone feel hot. 

“T-A-I-L,” is what the admin had said to it. 

The drone thumped its tail in response to the initial question. 

“•—•— • — — — •• ••••— — — — — •”

“CE-849,” it answered. 

A door opened behind the admin. CE-849 felt a long series of squeezes, much longer than any other command, causing it to double over, and hold their own nullge, feeling as if it was about to cum, but it never happened. This intense arousal remained, making it harder for it to remember what the command was. It rested its own glove over its nullge as it processed it. 

“Get into uniform.” The admin had commanded it. With its free hand, the drone saluted its admin, and thumped its tail in response. 

“—•—— • •••” 

“Yes.”

It began to walk toward the door at the far end of the room. It couldn’t see where it was going, but it didn’t need to, for it had the spiral to guide the way. Its strides were wide and flat footed, and one of their arms moved back and forth in stiff snaps. All of its motions would have been robotic if it weren’t for the fact they were still holding their nullge, hoping to cum, but it didn’t happen. It remained on the edge, only able to think about the admin with its shiny suit, and the admin’s powerful grip. 

Not counting the suit, the uniform was typical for construction: jeans, a t-shirt, and a neon safety vest, and the job was similar to other construction jobs, all the drones working in an assembly line style. CE-849 was tasked to move wooden beams from one point to another. Still, even if the job itself was similar, it wasn’t fair to say that it was just a construction job. Being wrapped in rubber made it feel comfortable, something that ‘Rob’ wouldn’t have thought possible. Recognizing all of the other identical drones with their floppy tails, and the same logo made it feel they were all part of a team, like they were all brothers. All of the drones only really conversed when it helped with the job, which would have been depressing, but instead, it felt a deep camaraderie with the other drones, working easily as one, feeling deeply connected as if they were all one being. Perhaps it was because they were all cut from the same cloth, or rather sculpted with the same rubber. 

Most of all: neither the calm nor the arousal went away. Gone was the typical work place exhaustion and stress, and in its place was a state of bliss, where it could feel comfortable all the time, no matter how hard it was working. 

On its very first shift, however, the initial activation made it feel a bit too aroused, and whenever it had a hand free, it found itself reaching inside of its jeans to rub its nullge. At the end of the shift, when it brought over its final wooden beam, it walked away, hand in its pants, breathing a sigh of satisfaction at a job well done. 

“CE-849, why are you touching yourself?” 

The drone froze as it heard the slapping of a familiar tail. It turned to find 001, its admin, staring at it with its hands on its hips. 849 yanked it’s hand away, and put them behind its back, passively. It began slapping its tail in response. 

“I was just-“

“You shouldn’t touch yourself,” the admin interrupted. It walked up to the drone, standing 6 feet away, then took a large step forward so it was four feet… then three… then two… It stood incredibly close to 849, and then reached out, gently grabbing the waistband of its jeans. The admin yanked at 849’s pants so they gently slid downward, effortlessly dropping to the drone’s ankles. Then the admin began to reach out toward the rubber sphere between the drone’s legs. 

“I’m supposed to reward you, after all,” the admin stated.849 tensed up, feeling the temperature in its suit rise ten degrees. It stared at that hand, longing for its grasp, feeling as if time slowed down. A second was too long to wait if it couldn’t be touched now. As the hand collided with the sphere it sent a shockwave throughout the drone’s body, making it shudder, making its tail curl and its head roll backwards. It took in a sharp inhale and let out a quivering breath. The sphere swelled as the admin squeezed it in a rhythmic pattern, sending a message that made its heart feel touched as well, something it needed to hear for a long time. 

“You’ve been a good boy, CE-849.” 

*****

Hey thanks for reading this story! as always it means a lot to me... Now I got a few words to say: