FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

**Morpheus Fantasy Services

Fire in the Hole**

College can be a bitch.

On top of the gruelling workload and the pressure for parents, living costs was something most teenagers my age attributed our developing ulcers to. Living in a two-man college dorm was never truly in my price range. The family back out in rural Iterion had to make a lot of sacrifices to get me into college.

Not that I didn't love them for it.

Just... well... They got me in.

Staving off hunger, maintaining hygiene and buying necessary materials for my medicine course was another matter.

So, when my roommate, Keith Towson - a big, grinning wolf with bright, sky-blue eyes who joined the football team the instant he got in at Iterion State College - suggested a job that paid two and a half grand per night I jumped at the chance.

But, as I stood at the doorstep of Morpheus Fantasy Services right after my 4 PM class for my interview, I was starting to have some serious doubts.

Firstly, this place was located in the more unruly part of town. Iterion wasn't your 'perfect metropolis' - then again, what is? - but there were parts you just did not want to be in regardless of what time it was... Unless it was in a body bag. Then it was okay. Bodies were more likely to be found in Iterion's Black Light District than anywhere else mostly because that's where all the cops patrolled.

Secondly, I really didn't like the look of that neon, double-male symbols hanging over the main sign.

It wasn't that I was homophobic. I was pretty open-minded. Hell, living with someone like Keith, it was hard not to get turned on by the sight of all those moving muscles. Especially when he worked out.

God he was hot.

I wasn't openly gay either. I've been with girls. Prefer their company actually.

Just... I wasn't sure if I wanted to be selling myself like this.

Reassurances filled my mind. This was just an interview. Worst case scenario, they don't like me and I walk out no harm done. If they offer me a job, I decided that I'd take it as long as I kept my dignity.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the big, black door and was a little surprised to find the interior to be a lavishly decorated like some the atrium of some multibillion dollar CEO's central headquarters. Velvety carpet covered the ground and there were orchids - actually orchids - lining the walls. The leather sofas look extremely expensive since they seemed lined with actual gold. A large, semi-circular desk opposite the door with a woman wearing a pair of small, round spectacles on her nose quietly tapping away at the computer before her.

She didn't seem to notice as I tentatively approached.

I cleared my throat.

She didn't look at me as she asked in a curt tone, "May I help you?"

"Y - Yeah... D - Drake Somers. I'm here for an interview with Mr. Reaper?"

I remembered when Keith told me about this job and the owner of the establishment was one 'Mr. Reaper'. Keith apparently didn't know his first name. It was seriously just 'Mr. Reaper'. I was visited by visions of working for the Grim Reaper and walking around the planet in a black cloak, a hood over my features, a scroll with a list of names on one hand and a scythe in the other.

Personally, that was one of the reasons I wanted to go for the job.

I wanted to see what kind of person a guy called 'Mr. Reaper' was.

The woman turned her odd, topaz eyes towards me and frowned a little. No doubt she was taking in my rather scrawny - some would say anorexic - frame. When you're living on a couple of bucks per week and what your roommate could spare, you don't get much meat on your bones. Besides that, I was never really that impressive. Despite coming from a farm, I was always very bookish and was never that built. I did have a healthy tan but my short, mustard-blonde hair was always a mess, I almost looked like a walking skeleton and, for a human, I looked like I had oversized paws for hands and feet.

Probably the only thing going for me were my eyes.

Everyone always commented me on how my right eye was a bright, sky-blue and my left was a deep, ruby-red.

"Hmmm..." the woman murmured softly. She turned away and pressed a button on the her desk.

She didn't even get a word in.

"I see him, Gwendolyn," a cool, calm, controlled voice said from the other side. "Send him in."

Gwendolyn, regarded me with a dismissive look, waving me away towards the big, red doors behind her as she returned to her work. "You heard him. Last door at the end of the hall."

"Thanks."

I shuffled away from the atrium and slowly pushed open the doors. Shock instantly filled my system as a whole club unfolded before me. There were countless people setting up the enormous dance floor and the tables. It seemed impossible that this place could be nestled in an alleyway but here it was! I was taken aback as my eyes ran over the numerous tables and stalls, the broad, well-stocked bar and the large stage for a band with a wall made completely out of TV screens right behind it.

"Wicked..." I whispered.

"Oi! Who the bloody 'ell are you!?"

The deep, rumbling voice almost made me want to completely spin around and bolt for the exit. A tall, towering hulk of muscle and stripes made a beeline for me. I envisioned being flattened by an angry steamroller as the huge tiger loomed over me, growling menacingly, his emerald-green eyes boring into me.

"Umm..."

"The bar ain't open yet, mate," the tiger scowled. "Dunno how ya got past Gwen but -"

That same, cool voice cut through the tiger's rant.

"Conrad."

Everyone in the bar seemed to freeze, their eyes planted directly on a solitary figure standing a few short feet away from the tiger - Conrad.

The instant I saw him, I instantly thought 'cool'.

There was no denying the man in the jet-black suit - including black shirt - and a red tie was 'Mr. Reaper'. His hair was just as black as his suit, slicked back but with three, thick, golden streaks running from his temples and one right in the middle of his hairline. His eyes were hidden by a pair of reflective, wrap-around glasses. In one hand he held a crystal pen and in the other a red, leathery book.

"M - Mr. Reaper!" Conrad stammered, instantly snapping to attention. "I - I was throwing out -"

"Our newest employee?" Mr. Reaper finished, one, meticulous eyebrow raised. "You have more sense than that, Conrad."

I gulped. As much as the urge to tell Mr. Reaper that I was not his employee yet rose from my throat, there was just something about the guy that screamed, 'Don't you dare interrupt or question me'. For a second, I wondered if this was what the modern day Grim Reaper looked like. Instead of a scroll, he had a book and instead of a scythe, he had a pen.

"Drake Somers."

The sound of my name brought me out of my wondering.

"Follow me," Mr. Reaper said, gesturing with one hand.

I staggered forward, casting a glance at Conrad. I was expecting a scowl or maybe a silent vow of vengeance for having humiliated the towering tiger in front of the boss... but instead, there was pity and... concern?

Now I was really starting to get worried.

"What do you know of the work we do here, Mr. Somers?" Mr. Reaper asked as we navigated the enormous dance floor.

"Um... Just what my roommate Keith told me..."

"And that is?"

Not much really, I had to admit.

"Just that you pay well..."

"Hmmm... Monetary gain is the least of our objectives here at Morpheus Fantasy Services." Mr. Reaper pushed open a door at the end of the bar, revealing a long hallway lined with doors. Twin, massive, golden doors rested at the far end. "After you, Mr. Somers."

"Just call me Drake."

"Very well."

As I stepped into the hallway, Mr. Reaper trailed me and continued his explanation.

"Here, we seek to indulged other males in their fantasies."

This job was sounding less and less appealing.

"To put it bluntly, Drake, we get our staff to have sex with men as whomsoever they please."

In short, sex for money.

Yeah...

"I see..." I began softly. "Well... I'm sorry to have wasted your time -"

"Did you ever wish to be a fireman, Drake? A knight in shining armour? A bodybuilder? Perhaps even a profession wrestler? No? What about someone of another species? A wolf? A tiger? A bull? Maybe even a creature completely out there."

Mr. Reaper turned to me and stared into my eyes as he lowered his glasses slightly.

I had to fight the gasp when I saw his sapphire-blue eyes with pupils shaped like eight-pointed stars.

"You see, Drake, there are needs men required that cannot be fulfilled simply by what is within reality. These are what fantasies are. Mortals desire that which they cannot obtain or do not yet possess. We are not only providing a service to our customers to obtain the release that they desire from obtaining the fantasy but also an escape for our staff to escape the shackles of reality."

What was this guy going on about?

I was ready to turn and leave.

"That's great for you, Mr. Reaper, but seriously. I don't think this is for me."

As I turned to leave, Mr. Reaper spoke. "The money would go a long way to pay for your college bills, Drake. Not to mention it'll pay for that computer you so desperately need. It must be tiresome having to type all your assignments on the library's computers and using second-hand resources that have had important pages and paragraphs torn out."

That was creepy but I reasons that it was Keith. Probably told Reaper what I was going through and begged him to give me the job. It was nice of him. I liked Keith. But, in all honesty, he was too goddamn nosy for his own good.

"Thanks for the offer but I'll pass."

"The money would also help pay for your mother's operation."

I froze and glanced over my shoulder. "My mother doesn't need an operation."

Mr. Reaper wasn't smiling. "Oh, she will. Left kidney. Severe failure. She'll need a transplant."

"Now you're just shitting me."

Reaper didn't reply and I just rolled my eyes at him.

What a psycho.

He stormed out of the place and took the bus back to campus. Keith was the one with the car. I usually got him to drive me places but he was at practice today so I was on my own. Thankfully, I was far out of the Black Light District and back on campus before the sun set.

Keith was waiting for me back at the dorm. Part of me expected some sort of inquisition on whether or not I got the job and if we were going to work together now. However, the big wolf just sat on the bed opposite to mine, ears drooped and the phone in his hand.

"What?" I asked.

"Your sister called, Drake. Your mom needs an operation."

I immediately snatched the phone away from Keith's hand and dialled home.

Clara, my sister, told me everything. Severe kidney failure. She was going to need a transplant. Thankfully, the hospital had some to spare - first time in history - and they were going to go ahead with the transplant as soon as possible. Paying for the operation, however, was the problem. Dad was already talking about selling the farm and living off their pension for as long as they could. Clara was probably going to live with Uncle Max overseas.

Reaper had been right.

And as for his tuition... She saying not to worry about it... but that was exactly what I was doing.

Even when she hung up and told me they'll be fine, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the phone and thinking about my poor mom. Keith tried to comfort me at one point but I just felt numb all over.

As if my life couldn't get any worse.

But I wasn't about to let depression consume me.

I was already starting to make plans. The payment date hadn't arrived yet so I still had time to withdraw my application. Hopefully, the money saved would be enough to keep us out of the red for a long while. Of course, helping out in the farm was a given. Probably try running it myself considering how dad would taking care of mom as she recovered...

"I gotta go to work, Drake..." Keith murmured softly, rising to his big feet.

An idea struck me.

Two and a half grand per night would be more than enough to pay for my tuition and my mom's operation...

"Take me with you."

Keith gave me a stunned look. "You took the job?"

"I'm going to."

Needless to say, Keith was a bouncing puppy all the way back to Morpheus Fantasy Services. He kept saying how great it was and how, if I felt uncomfortable with the real services, I could easily switch to doing something else. Keith was a bouncer there but it, apparently, he wasn't too opposed to going into the back rooms and appeasing some of the 'fantasies' of the club's customers.

It disturbed me that he spoke so... casually about this. I wasn't sure even sure if this was really 'prostitution'. All Reaper said was that his club 'indulged other males in their fantasies'. That didn't necessarily mean sex... right?

It was probably best to ask before I got in way over my head.

"So... How exactly do you... you know..." I began.

Keith, beaming and with his sharp fangs gleaming in the moonlight, said, "Well... It's kinda weird at first but you get used to it. Some guys... They just wanna cuddle. Other guys... they want a little more."

"More?"

"Mr. Reaper sort of has a policy... Pay for the night, spend the night." Keith didn't look at all uncomfortable as he spoke. "You spend the night with one guy and... well..." Keith's broad grin returned. "... sometimes, even if all they wanted was just to cuddle... that often evolves into something else."

"Else?"

The big wolf's grin never faded as he parked his car in the private car park beside the building. "You know, sex. Sometimes, I drive Little Keith down there up the guys ass, sometimes they plough into me. Hell, there are times when I love sucking cock."

I froze halfway to exiting the car.

"K - Keith... Does that mean y - you're...?"

The wolf just kept grinning. "Dude, come on. I work at a gay bar and sell myself to have gay sex! What did you think? I was just doing it for the money!?"

"Um... Yeah...?"

Keith laughed and guided me slowly towards the entrance of the bar. "Drake, come on. This place pays in more than just cash. It gives you a new lease on life!"

"I'm not gay, Keith."

He winked at me with those gorgeous blue eyes. "Sure, you say that now but I've seen you eyeing me when I'm changing or working out. It's why I suggested this place for you." I backed away as he bent down from his 6'8'' height, grinning at me in an almost predatory fashion. "Come on, Drake, you wouldn't have gone into the place and talked to Mr. Reaper if you weren't interested."

I hated it when people tried to psychoanalyse me.

"It's the money, Keith," I growled, pushing him away and storming toward the door. "My mom need help, I'm dirt poor and living on scraps. This isn't about self-discovery, Keith. It's about survival."

The big, brown wolf merely licked his lips and straightened. "That's what you say..."

Ignoring him completely, I stormed up to the door of Morpheus Fantasy Services. That big tiger, Conrad, was standing out front alongside a tall, slightly slimmer red-head with a big grin on his face.

"You again!?" Conrad snarled. "'ay, I know ya dinna wanna work for us so ya can just scram and -"

"Dude!" Keith interrupted, sauntering up easily. "It's cool! He's with me!"

"Wozzat? Keith?" Conrad suddenly broke into a grin and brushed past me, catching Keith in a tight man-hug.

At least, that's what it started out as. Suddenly, Conrad gently licked Keith's cheek and the big wolf growled at the sensation. I had to adjust myself when Keith grabbed Conrad's big, tight ass and gave it a loving squeeze. The two stoped with the tentative greeting and wrapped their lips around each other's.

"Ahem."

I glanced over at the red-head who was still grinning. "Your shift isn't over yet, Conrad. And Keith, the boss wants you serving up tonight. Stephan Rodriguez is here tonight and he's been asking for Kenneth Bones."

Keith pulled away reluctantly from Conrad, a big grin to match the red-heads on his face. "Heh, the horny bastard." He clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Come on, Drake. We got places to be and people to meet!"

I numbly allowed my roommate to lead me into the club. Once again, there was that icy woman sitting at the desk quietly tapping away at her computer. The expensive seats, however, were now occupied by several men from different walks of life. There were a couple of rich executive-types, one looked like a family man and a third was an average teenager that was desperately trying to keep his identity a secret by keep his hood up.

Keith grinned and pointed at one of the executive as he led me past the woman. "See that guy there with the glasses? That's Stephan Rodriquez. He's one of my regulars."

"Regulars?" he repeated suddenly feeling like a parrot.

The wolf winked at me. "Yeah. When it's just me and him. I'm not Keith Towson anymore. I'm Kenneth Bones."

"Right..."

Translation, 'Kenneth Bones' was his stage name.

As we entered the brunt of the club itself, I realised that this was more than just some sort of male whorehouse. It was a gay bar. Half-dressed men were rubbing against each other on the dance floor, mingling around the tables and rocking it on with the shirtless band. I was horrified to see countless couples shamelessly undressing each other in the stalls.

"What kind of place is this...?" I whispered.

Oddly, Keith seemed to hear my voice over the loud, thumping music. "You'll see, Drake! Come on! I see Mr. Reaper!"

It was odd that Mr. Reaper was sitting by himself in a private, closed off booth with only a book and a pen in front of him. There were no guards but everyone just seemed to know to avoid him. Keith strutted towards him and Mr. Reaper glanced up, expression completely devoid from his features.

"Hey, boss!" Keith greeted, waving jovially. "How's it hanging?"

"Well enough, Keith," Reaper answered in his cool, collected tone. "I take it you have decided to take me up on my offer, Drake?"

I wasn't entirely sure yet but at the moment, the only thing in my mind was my family. This was no longer about me losing my dignity. It was about saving my family.

But first...

"How did you know?" he asked.

Keith looked like he had been slapped and began stammer. "Ummm -uh... Mr. Reaper, he -"

All Reaper did was lift a hand and he the big wolf fell silent.

"I know many things, Drake," Reaper answered softly, his voice carrying surprisingly well over the noise. "I know, for instance, that you have a little crush on your friend here."

That was uncalled for. I tried not to look at Keith but my eyes darted towards him nonetheless. The look of pure shock on the jock's face was both cute and funny at the same time. I glanced back at Reaper, scowling softly.

"I also know you like role playing. You despise your body. You wish you had more confidence to go finding the 'right person' for you but you would never let that relationship compromise your family. It is a reason why you have yet to admit to them that you are, in fact, homosexual."

"I am not gay," I answered firmly. "Just point me at the guy that needs to be jacked off and give me my pay."

A small smile appeared on Reaper's face. "Interesting. I had never even mentioned that you would be one of our servicemen."

Busted.

And I knew it.

"I had hoped to hire you as our new bartender," Reaper said mildly, regarding the book in his hands with one eyebrow raised. "However, since you insist..."

"No-no!" I stammered. "I..."

It was a mistake to glance over at Keith. Seeing the big wolf's puppy dog eyes sent my resolve crumbling.

Everything that Reaper said was true.

I did have a crush on Keith. He was hot as hell, was my roommate and now I find out he's truly gay.

That's three points!

Apart from the little voice in my head constantly screaming that I wasn't gay... well... There really wasn't anything keeping me from joining this place. Hell, my older brother, Corey, was gay. Came out to my parents on his 21st. One hell of a surprise but my parents just took it all into stride, my dad catching him in a headlock and telling him that the boy he found had better treat him right 'or else'.

If I told my parents I was gay... They wouldn't mind.

I was just lying to myself.

"Mr. Reaper," I began.

"Please, call me Jacob."

Somehow... I felt I couldn't.

"I don't think I have the build or the looks to satisfy anyone..."

"That will not be a problem," Reaper said, rising from his seat. He glanced over at Keith. "Keith, would it be alright if Drake took Mr. Rodriquez off your hands for tonight? If you would much prefer to entertain Mr. Armstrong or someone else, you are welcome to. Otherwise, there is always bouncer duties."

Keith just grinned and clapped my shoulder encouragingly. "S'cool, Mr. Reaper! I'll keep Conrad company!" He gave my shoulder a light punch. "Knock 'em dead, Drake!"

Mr. Reaper gestured that I lead the way to the rear hallway where we had last parted ways. It was odd but as I led, everyone crowded around me, ignoring me completely. But as Mr. Reaper followed, everyone just subconsciously pulled away from him. They would just take that extra dance step to the right or move a little closer to their partner without even casting him a glance.

There was like a 'repulsion aura' around him.

When we entered the hallway, I was met with abrupt silence. Not even the noise from the club penetrated the thick, velvety walls. Now that I wasn't so intimidated, my eyes regarded the walls and doors of the hallway. There were numbers on each of the doors, all the way from zero to twenty five. A potted plant occupied the space beside each of the doors and a long, black rug ran the length of the hallway over wooden floorboards.

"Stephan Rodriquez is a single man who runs Amalgam Incorporated," Mr. Reaper said, open book in hand and leading me down the hallway. "He is very influential and because of that, he is somewhat hesitant about revealing his orientation. In public, he is accompanied by a lot of 'arm candy' to appease the public and cast the illusion that, he is in fact, heterosexual."

I had heard of Amalgam Incorporated. It was a big mining company that also had a hand in metal processing as well as exporting metal to other countries.

"If he's so influential, why is he so scared?"

"He is not scared," Mr. Reaper answered, stopping in front of door number 10. "Merely sensitive. We arrange for a private limo to take him here at his convenience and ensure he is not tracked or followed. His preferences run along the line of muscular men in uniform. I believe this evening he is craving someone in a fireman's outfit."

I regarded my ragged college-student clothing.

"Um... I'm not exactly a fireman, sir..."

"There is a change room before you meet Mr. Rodriquez. In there, you will find all the affects required to cast the illusion of a fireman. You will also find a small book with a pencil. In it, you will find a form that has been filled out by Mr. Rodriguez concerning his taste for entertainment this evening. Sign your name at the bottom of the page but make sure to take the page and give it to Gwendolyn at the front office before you leave to collect your pay. That is very important."

"Burning the evidence?" I asked shakily.

Mr. Reaper turned and headed back in the direction of the club. "You have no idea how close you are to the truth there, Drake. Now, I suggest you do not keep Mr. Rodriguez waiting. He is a patient man but he is expecting Kenneth Bones. Not you."

Gulping loudly, I wanted Mr. Reaper depart and slowly calmed myself. I had to think like a fireman. Maybe put on a lot of fire-related jokes. Say something about climbing my 'fire pole'? Using my 'hose'?

Gah! I was no good at this!

I must be crazy!

But then... I remembered why I was doing this...

My family...

With a deep breath, I pulled open the door and stepped into the strangest dressing room I had ever encountered. It was essentially a cube made completely of mirrors. The mirrors, however, had small knobs on them that indicated that they were also doors of some kind. The two to my right and left looked like they slid and the one of the end swung on a hinge. A marble pedestal sat in the middle of the room with a small, white book sitting open on it.

I tentatively approached the pedestal, making sure not to slip on the glass beneath my sneakers.

There what appeared to be a printed form on the open page.

Client's name was Stephan Rodriguez. Half of the form was pretty customary. Age, date of birth, eye colour, hair colour and so forth. Then the next half became increasing odd...

Preferred Occupation was listed as 'Fireman'. Serviceman's stats followed including, of all things, penis length. I almost gagged when it said 'foot long'. I was barely six inches!

Boy was this guy in for a disappointment...

... though that had me wondering about Kenneth...

Under species, it was apparent that Mr. Rodriguez didn't mind.

With a deep sigh, I picked up the pencil resting there and signed my name.

Was just about around to thinking, 'Now what?' when the words on page began shifting. Particularly my signature. Instead of my clumsy, jagged mark, the words became clumsy and so twisted it was almost impossible to make out the name.

But make it out I did.

Because it was my signature... I think.

It read 'Denver Stone'.

"Wait," I began. "That's not -"

I grunted suddenly as I fall to my knees, a wave of pleasure shooting right through me. It was like that sensation that you get when stretching for the first time in the morning or when you pull your feet from a pair of shoes your trying to break in. It was a mix of relief and strength. Blood began pumping through my veins and my body was wracked with shudders I couldn't control.

It was my hands that were affected the most. Like some classical transformation sequence, I regarded my hands with eyes wide. Muscles began pushing through the skin, inflating each of my digits and pressing the thick, growing veins against my palms. Sharp pains explode from the tips of my fingers as large, ivory claws began pressing themselves against the skin, cutting through it like it was just plastic.

My entire hand just explodes out of my skin like I was shedding my human visage. A scream never made it out of my throat as the gargantuan hand - three times bigger than my original hand - was suddenly attached to my inflating wrist. The hand was covered in thick, armour-like, red scales with my palm covered in smoother, yellow scales.

"Oh god... oh god..." I gasped.

Quickly, I spun around and scrambled for the door. If I could get out of here maybe someone could help me. I was berating myself over and over again that I knew this was a terrible idea.

The instant I reach for the glass doorknob however, my hand jerked away of its own accord. That feeling of release and freedom crawls to my face and a feral snarl escapes my tingling lips. Gazing upon my arm, I growled as my bicep just explodes out of my sleeve, tearing it to shreds. It looked obscene to have a watermelon-sized bicep attached to such a flimsy forearm and weak shoulder.

My first instinct was to flex upon seeing that amazing mound of muscle. The instant I did, the veins against my skin pulsed and my pinkish flesh ripped right down the middle, revealing ruby scales beneath. Those same veins pulsed the feeling of raw power up towards my forearm, pumping the strength into the muscle and ballooning it to a size that matched my incredible bicep. A lustful snarl builds in my throat as I realise the fragments of my skin obscured the sight of my beautiful arm.

With my transformed arm, I tore away at the pinkish flesh, tossing it aside and flexing my enormous arm, licking my lips at the sight of the stunning appendage that would have given any bodybuilder a run for their money.

At that point, I realised I had another arm and turn my gaze to my left hand. All panic was lost as my eyes first glanced over my reflection in the reflective room. I looked completely stupid with a gargantuan, red, scaly arm sticking out of my right shoulder that hung down to my knees.

But that arm looked just so... sexy.

I wanted more.

When my eyes were fixated onto me left arm, I lifted it, ready to flex and counted to three. I got to two and a half before I flexed by bicep. A triumphant, feral snarl erupted from my lips as that arm erupted from beneath my sleeves, shredding cloth and skin as my new, long, muscular, scaly arm took precedence.

I wasn't sure what was happening but neither did I care.

I wanted more of this... whatever it was.

I felt the power rushing through to the rest of my body, building muscle and pumping warm, exhilarating strength through my entire body. Throw my head back and let out a loud moan as I felt my spine start popping, new vertebrate being added to the column and my slouched posture snapping blissfully back into position. I roll my shoulders and the action sends more of that addictive, warm euphoria through my system. Those same shoulders thickened to accommodate my arms and the power rushed towards my torso.

Licking my lips, I gaze down at my chest and watch as my shirt slowly began to tighten with every breath I took, like every breath I took transformed into that almost volcanic bliss.

"More..." I growled, my voice deeper and more feral. A loud grunt escaped me as my shirt ripped completely in half right down the middle to show large, plump pectoral muscles. I couldn't see my abs beyond them so I just gazed at my reflection and grinned.

There was no doubt that my face was also starting to twist into a new shape. My face was getting longer, the human countenance reforming into a definitive, squarish muzzle. Nostrils that had once been rounded and stuck to a nose twisted away and became slitted nostrils, faint, bluish-grey smoke drifting from them.

I grinned at my reflection, growing fangs emerging from my lips. With one, large claw, I made a small incision down my chest, just between the clefts of my pecs. I grin as the skin starts to fall away, revealing the yellow scales beneath.

That strength and raw power suddenly flooded down into my groin and my arousal was growing with each passing second. I grunted and tensed my legs. They surged upwards, shooting me up another foot or so and planting me at a comfortable 7'4''. Thighs that were thicker than tree trunks and calf muscles that were nice, rounded and juicy met my gaze. The remnants of my pants clung around my waist in what looked like a G-string made of denim. With a growl, he hooked it in one hand and tore them free, tossing the garment aside.

My throbbing manhood met the warm heat of the small, enclosed room. It definitely wasn't a human cock. Not anymore. My balls were wrapped in the same, creamy, yellow scales that ran down from my herculean chest, along the underside of my arms and the insides of thighs. The titanic foot-long monster that was dripping with precum tapered to a point with what appeared to be knot of some sort pulsing at the base. That same base sunk into a slit.

The euphoria hit the base of my spine and I roared as a long, muscular tail covered in those same, red scales shot from just the top of my round, firm buttocks. As I shuddered, a pair of large, webbed wings sprung from my back. As a finishing touch, my face finished its transformation into the draconic visage it had been alluding to all night.

I lick my lips with my thick, red tongue, enjoying the power, the image... What had once been a skinny, ragged college boy was now a towering, powerful red-scaled dragon with a proud cock and ruggedly handsome features. I had a pair of nutty brown horns shooting out from just behind my large, ears and a blonde mane ran between those horns, down the back of my neck and ended halfway down my back just between my wings.

But something still seemed wrong...

I realised quickly what it was.

I pulled open the closets and rummaged through the contents. I found a pair of heavy, black boots, some underwear, a pair of fireproof, yellow pants held up by red suspenders, a white shirt that hugged my torso and a yellow, fireproof jacket. To complete the image, I bragged a fireman's helmet and slapped it on, two holes made perfectly for my horns.

I still had a job to do.

Turning, I headed towards the door and swung it open.

Stephan Rodriguez was a slim human with a shrewd appearance on his face amplified by his thin glasses. His black hair was slicked back and the frown on his face instantly made my heart plummet.

"You're not Kenneth Bones," Rodriguez said.

I wanted to apologise, explain that I was a new guy that had been sent to replace Kenneth and that I hoped I wasn't too much of a disappointment... but by powerful, cut body spoke for itself.

I leaned against the doorframe, a cocky grin on my face.

"Nah," the deep, masculine voice rumbled. "The name's Denver. Denver Stone. Kenneth couldn't make it tonight."

Rodriguez grunted. The entire room had been made to look like some expensive hotel room. There was even a balcony that overlooked the city... which couldn't be possible. We were on the ground floor in the middle of the sleaziest part of town.

But my mind glazed over that fact.

I was here to do a job and man was I horny.

"So tell me about yourself, Denver," Rodriquez said, sliding aside and patting the bed where he sat.

I swagger over and sit down beside him, my weight causing the bed to groan and for him to actually slide towards me a little because the bed had become bent.

"I've worked at the precinct for over ten years," I rumble. "My dad was a fireman and I've wanted to be one ever since he took me on my first ride in the fire truck."

My old man was not a fireman and he never took me riding on a fire truck.

He was a farmer.

"Hmmm... Kenneth said he's been at the precinct eleven years."

"Oh yeah! Kenneth and I are best buds!" I winked at him. "Best buds with benefits."

No we weren't! Kenneth - Keith - and I just met this year! I only found out he was gay this evening!

"Is that so?" Rodriguez asked. I could smell his arousal.

He wanted me.

Bad.

"Yeah." I leaned over towards Rodriguez, snorting slightly and blowing a puff of smoke into the man's face. Rodriguez didn't flinch. "Want me to show you?"

"You've got to impress me first, boy," Rodriguez said, gesturing that I get up. "Show me what you've got."

I grinned and easily got to my feat. "You got it, boss," I rumbled, slowly slipping off my jacket.

Rodriguez watched my muscles move, watched them bunch under my tight white shirt and bulge against it as I remove the fireproof jacket. I loved it. It was something else having another man drool for you. To tease him further, I began pulling off my boots, kicking them aside and wiggling my toes against the velvet carpet. With must have been agonising slowness of my client, I began slipping the suspenders one by one.

Then, I reached under my shirt, running my hand over my rock-hard eight-pack, grunting and making feral noises that had Rodriguez crawling closer and closer to me. I tweaked one of my nipples, feeling the surge of pleasure rush through me and my cock press up against my pants. Little Stone made a sizable impression against my pants and Rodriguez noticed. While his eyes were down there, I slipped off my shirt, revealing my powerful, upper torso and huge, rolling biceps. I struck a double bicep pose that had his eyes bulging out of their sockets.

Just to keep his eyes on my upper half, I lifted my right bicep and ran my tongue along a large vein protruding there. With my other hand, I ran a claw around the edges of my already tight pants, easing them slowly below my waist. I could see his disappointment when he saw the black boxers I wore but his eyes followed my hands as I slipped those yellow, fireproof pants past my huge thighs and kicked them away.

His eyes never left my crotch.

With a grin, I struck a lateral pose just for him, bouncing my pecs in tandem with his rapidly beating heart. He didn't stop to clean up the drool that was sliding down from the corner of his lips. I reached down and pulled off my boxers, revealing the full extent of my erect cock and Rodriguez leaned forward, mesmerised by my rod.

I pulled off a side chest pose, flexing my arm and letting my cock rocket out, perpendicular to my body. His eyes ran down my round, plump shoulder, along that thick vein over my bulging bicep, over my enormous forearms, across my monstrous thighs and finally to the tip of my drooling cock.

"Have I impressed you, Mr. Rodriguez?" I asked in a sultry voice.

I didn't wait for his reply as I move towards him, pushing him onto the cushiony bed and kissing his neck. Rodriguez moaned and I could feel his body heat rise to unbearable levels.

"You must be on fire underneath that suit, Mr. Rodriguez," I whispered into his ear. I ran my tongue around the curves and lines of his ear, jabbing the hole tentatively with the tip. "Want me to put out that fire?"

His answer was just another moan.

Slowly so as not to hurt him, I run my huge, meaty hands over his slim body and pull off his jacket while still slathering his neck with my saliva. He quickly turned my licks into a kiss, wrapping his lips into my mine. Having a muzzle, I was at the advantage as I enclosed half his face in my jaw, letting my drool slip all over his jaw and my tongue to drive into his mouth. He began sucking on my tongue as I relieved him of his shirt and pants, feeling the light dusting of hair on his chest and his manhood press up against mine.

His hands curled around my chest, unable to fully wrap around my titanic torso. They ran over every mountain of my body, every hill and every valley. He moaned every time he hit a new mound and was grinding into my groin mercilessly.

Suddenly, he pulled out of our kiss.

"Come on, fireman," he growled fiercely, "spray me! Put out my fire!"

I smirked. "Yes, sir."

Gently, I turned him around, wrapping my arms around his body and our wings enclosing us in a tight cocoon that preserved our warmth. I seized his throbbing cock and he moaned at the contact. He was close to orgasm so I wasn't about to tease him anymore. With one, single jab, I thrust my cock up his ass. It was too big for him to take and he gave a cry of mixed pleasure and pain to tell me so.

Oh well, can't have everything.

I growled into his neck as I began thrusting in and out of him, pumping his ass while yanking his cock. My tongue lashes out, rolling over his shoulder, his neck, his jaw and his cheek. Sensing my lips close by like some infant to its mother's tit, he turned towards me and locked his lips with mine, moaning and groaning as I continued to pound his ass. I ran my other hand over his flat chest, finding his right nipple and twisting it a few times clockwise... and then back the other way.

He was practically wailing down my throat for release.

I could feel myself on the verge of release as well and I gripped him tightly but not too tight to crush him. The heat from his ass, the fact that we were wrapped so tightly together and that I had his manhood in my hand was just too much for the both of us.

Rodriguez pulled out first, screaming as his cock jerked and his cum came splattering out like an out-of-control garden hose. I throw my head back and roar as well, my tail lashing about and sheering a bed knob right off. I explode into Rodriguez, my hot, stick cum coming out like volcanic liquid streaming from my cock, bringing with it that amazing sense of release.

My orgasm lasted a lot longer than his but there was just something about the way he was grinning at me that told me it was far from over. Part of me was horrified when I just kept cumming and that sense of release from my earlier transformation was exactly the same feeling I got as I orgasmed. I could feel my entire body start to grow, my muscles expanding and the scaled creaking loudly as they were forced apart and new scales pushing out of my expanding flesh beside them.

Rodriguez slipped out of me, an ocean of my cum spilling out of his ass as my entire body expanded. I let loose a feral growl as I curled up, feeling my muscles all bunch at the same time, tightening and tightening like a coiled spring that was being twisted further and further.

"I... I..." I gasped, my jaw cracking and reassembling into its new size. "I... can't...aaaaaaAAAAAAAAH!"

I threw my head back and roared as my entire body just exploded outwards, my one and a half foot cock blasting out a new wave of cum that splattered all over Rodriguez and the bed. Exhaustion didn't come to take me.

I felt my balls miraculously fill with more semen and I jostled them, feeling the delicious, salty goo toss in my basket-ball sized containers.

Rodriguez was just grinning, licking his lips, taking the cum from his face with his tongue.

"You've still got a long way to impress me, boy," he said.

I grinned at the challenge. "Well... I've got all night, boss."

****

The following morning, I woke up alone in the bed, soaked to the bone in cum and back to my pitiful human self.

I sighed... I liked being Denver.

"Enjoyed your first night?"

I glanced up.

Mr. Reaper was standing a few feet away, his book in his hand and seemingly ignoring me completely.

I also realised I was completely naked.

"No need to hide yourself, Drake," Mr. Reaper said. "You already showed much of yourself last night though I suspect you weren't quite at ease with that draconic form."

"Um..." I shook my head. "What exactly happened? How did I...?"

Mr. Reaper looked at me with those eyes hidden beneath his sunglasses. "Let's just say that reality is not the world you inhabit, the air you breathe or the soil you stand upon. It is your perception of that world. Last night, when you signed your name in that book, you essentially signed your perceptions, your reality, over to Stephan Rodriguez.

"I won't explain the details but suffice it to say that because I ensured Mr. Rodriguez filled out his expectations and thus his perceptions in a form, I could limit his control over what you became and how you acted. Had I not done so, you would have been completely in his sway. Not just your mind and soul but your entire body, who you are. You could be his Avatar of Destruction and no one will be able to stop you."

For a second, I was seriously wondering if this guy was crazy. But there was evidence all around me to the contrary. Firstly, I was soaked in too much cum to actually have come from a single couple. There were firemen's uniform bits thrown everywhere and last night had been too vivid to be a dream or some drug-induced hallucination.

"Then... How can you...?"

"I can't tell you that, Drake," Mr. Reaper answered. "At least not yet. You have to earn that right. This is still a company, after all and I can't go blurting out my company secrets to anyone and everyone especially to a non-employee."

He produced a slip of paper from his coat and held it out.

It was a cheque.

"Here is your pay for last night. Should you wish full employment like Keith, merely come again tonight. I will have someone lined up for you. Otherwise, enjoy your payment. It should suffice to pay for your mother's kidney transplant."

I shakily get out of the bed and take the cheque in my cum-covered hand.

"There are clothes in the change room for you," Mr. Reaper added. "And remember to tear the form out of the book on the pedestal and give it to Gwendolyn out front."

I nodded numbly, still unsure what was going on and unsure whether or not I liked the experience.

Last night was clearly the best sex I've ever had in my life.

And it was as a guy...

... but it wasn't me...

...was it?

He found the clothes Mr. Reaper had mentioned and was a little surprised to find that it was exactly the same clothes I had entered the room with. Only a little because, hell, this place was weird. Fun... but weird.

And Mr. Reaper was damn creepy.

I cleaned up myself as best as I could and tear the page from the book on the pedestal. I was still a little dazed as I staggered down the velvet hallway into the club. Everyone was just packing up.

"Hey! Drake!"

I turned around as Keith came jumping towards me. His fur was sticky with cum.

"H - Hey..." I stammer shakily.

"How'd it go with Mr. Rodriguez?" the big wolf asked, clapping my shoulder. "Did he give you a hard time?"

"No... I gave him a hard time."

"Ha! Who'd you turn into?"

It frightened me to note that Keith probably did something similar the previous night though I recalled he was meant to have bouncer duty... Then again, I also recalled that they constantly traded shifts if someone of importance arrived.

"Denver Stone," I murmured. "A fireman dragon..."

Keith licked his lips. "Sounds hot."

I winced at the pun as we head into the reception area and hand our sheets to the lady at the desk.

As we left and headed back towards Keith's car, the big wolf suddenly grabbed me around the shoulders and leaned in, licking me from my chin to my forehead, giving me a pronounced cowlick.

"Hey!"

He just grinned at me. "Hmmm... So that's what you taste like."

I couldn't help but laugh and shove him away. We jumped into his car and as I buckled up, I glanced at the cheque in my hands.

"Holy -!"

"What?" Keith demanded.

The cheque was for twenty grand.

It was more than enough to see my mom out of her operation and give me a good start through my college bills!

Not enough to see me completely through but still a good start.

Keith saw the figures and grinned. "Mr. Reaper is a pretty nice guy, huh?"

Reflecting, I said, "Yeah... Yeah he is..."

"So... Will you be coming back tonight?"

My answer was instantaneous.

"Hell yeah!"