Help the girls find a new job

Masturbation had lost its thrill. Cary was getting worried.

His dick had finally crescendoed at a mammoth, overbearing twelve and one-half inches. That was the good news. It wasn’t going to just grow forever.

The other good news was that he had – filled in. It looked appropriate. Mostly because Cary himself had belatedly realized he had grown another three inches. It had been difficult to notice, at first, because it wasn’t any sort of adopting a new manly body. He still had fresh cheeks and wide, watery eyes. But it helped. A big dick on a six foot two man was entirely different from a big dick on someone in the depths of five feet something. This did make his pants fit even worse, but this was a minor issue. He’d made a few exploratory google searches for pants fitting the well-hung man.

And otherwise it was a full-fledged well-formed cock. His balls were grapefruit-sized and hung heavy but they looked about right. His pubic hair had turned into a wild mane of tangled black hair, but it also worked. Everything about his dick worked correctly. It worked very, very well. It spun up into a firm, commanding erection very quickly, and could shoot a jet of cum across the entire room. He had almost no refractory period. The problem was he had no one to stick it in.

Work the next day was excruciating. All three co-workers were despondent, robotic. The warm glint in their eyes was gone. Clara had shown up to work in sweatpants and with her hair in a ponytail. It made his dick mad. She was so hot.

“My boyfriend broke up with me,” Evelyn added, conversational. She was very conversational.

“Oh no,” Clara moaned. She rubbed at her face. “Nooooooo.” Jane only paused momentarily in her typing. She had determined to walk out the door after delivering a fifty-page thoughtful report on why the company was going to fall apart and die.

“Yeah! Yeah, You know how you suspect that a guy is just there for one thing? I mean, I knew that. I just thought it was the jokes. No, it was the paycheck. The same night. He claimed he was planning it for some time but that was a lie. How do I know? We have dinner reservations for tomorrow. Or did.”

“My last boyfriend broke up with me in an e-mail, and then he texted me to ask if I’d gotten the e-mail,” Clara said. “When I said I had he put a thumbs up emoji on top of it. That was the last thing he ever texted me.”

“My ex snuck out with our daughter’s birth certificate,” Jane said, briefly stopping her typing. “When we divided everything up. I think he thought it was a bargaining chip, if he had her birth certificate, like it meant he had more ownership of it.”

“Worthless fucking men,” Cary growled. He’d said similar things in the past, but without the deep, bestial growl. That was new. He’d jacked off several times before going to work, and it wasn’t helping much at all. His dick raged between his legs.

All three girls sat bolt upright.

“Y-yeah!” Evelyn said, shaky. “Uh. Men.”

They were all three looking at him: now what? Sir? It felt right to stand up, put his hands on his hips. “Clara.”

“Yes, sir?” Clara said. No one seemed to hear that slip out, besides Cary. But he did. His pants didn’t go much past his shins.

“Why are you wearing sweatpants?”

‘I–” it didn’t seem to occur to her to say “you’re one to talk about bad pants.” Clara just looked horrified. “Because we got fired and—”

“Because you feel like shit so you act like shit. Go change. Do it,” Cary said. He crooked his fingers and made a walking motion. Clara stood up and walked straight out of the door. He whirled to Evelyn. “Call your boyfriend. Your ex-boyfriend.”

“What?” Evelyn made a feeble noise of resistance. “No, I– look, it’s FINE. I hardly blame–”

Her phone was on her desk. Cary picked it up. She hadn’t even changed the wallpaper, which showed her in a half-hug with some guy the exact same height as Evelyn. He wasn’t quite smiling. Cary flicked to recent calls, which were all to the exact same person.

The boyfriend picked up on the fourth ring. The voice on the other end sounded bored. “Hey, we need to arrange–”

“I HAVE A BIGGER DICK THEN YOU,” Cary yelled, into the phone. He hung up. His dick was wild, red, thrilled. It was also right next to Evelyn’s head. She was very close to it. Cary had started leaving his fly half-zipped, just to get a tiny bit more breathing room. Evelyn was, actually, breathing very hard.

“Thank you, Cary,” Jane said, from behind them.

Cary realized he was sweating, not just a little. Without quite thinking it through, he wiped his forehead on a tissue from her desk, tossed it next to her. It wasn’t all that necessary. Pheromones flooded the room regardless.

Clara reappeared, in a wrinkled pair of khakis. They didn’t match her outfit at all, and had the look of apparel thrown in the backseat of her car. Cary caught her eyes and shook his head no.

She marched out the door again.

—

“This resume isn’t going to get it done,” Cary informed Evelyn. His erection still loomed next to her. She wasn’t complaining. Ever since getting fired she had found more and more reasons to pull him over for help. “It’s not even half a page. Evelyn, come on.”

“I’m not gonna lie,” Evelyn said, softly. She hadn’t spoken much above a whisper ever since they’d gotten laid off. “This is just what it is.”

“It’s a half-page. You didn’t even do a full page,” Cary said. “Do it again. Write a full page of your accomplishments.”

“Yes, sir,” Evelyn said. She sighed and took it back. When she thought he wasn’t looking Cary saw her sniffing his discarded sweat ball. It seemed to relax her, a lot.

Clara waited patiently for his inspection and approval.

“I want to say its better,” Cary said, turning. Clara flushed. She’d opted for a pantsuit in grey flannel. “But it’s saying – what? You want to be forgotten! You look like the background of an HR Block ad. It’s like camouflage. Clara, I want you to look at me and say – I’m hot.”

“Hot?” Clara said, uncertain. “I don’t–”

“I’m hot. Repeat after me. Hot. I’m hot,” Cary said. He’d learned to use his eyes to greater effect. If he didn’t blink at a girl, they tended to do what he said. For their own good.

“I’m— Cary, come on. I’m a six and a half out of ten.”

“Did some guy tell you that?”

It was written on her face. Cary shook his head. “Do it,” he said.

“I’m hot,” she lacked any conviction.

“Louder.”

“I’m hot!” It had been awhile since any of the three of them had said no to him. It didn’t seem likely.

“Why are you hot?”

“I don’t know! I have decent boobs!” Clara kept her volume up. Her voice shook. She was breathing hard, which usually meant a girl was about to do anything he said.

“GOOD boobs and what else?”

“I don’t know! I’m a— s…seven? Seven out of ten?” She waited for his evaluation, tense.

“Lets keep adding. Put on makeup and put on a god damn skirt.”

“A….” Clara had to swallow. “Skirt?”

“You think I don’t know?” Cary thundered. “Girls in pants and no makeup, what that means? It means you don’t give a fuck. Go get changed! Right now.”

“Yes… sir.” she twirled and walked out.

“Jane, how long until the presentation?” Cary said. He knew it perfectly well. He just wanted to shake the image of Clara, properly made up with blush and red lipstick, modeling a puffy pink skirt for his approval.

“Ten days,” Jane said. Cary twirled. As usual, once he got a good sweat going, the girls got very, very quiet. And he was sweating. Not like the pre-penis days, when his sweat was big-guy flop. He felt very primal. Evelyn was very sluggishly trying to add words to her resume. Her tongue was half out.

Cary puffed out a deep, hard breath. He was perfectly aware that he was having an increasing effect on the slut– on the girls. Clara didn’t normally nod her head limply when told to go put on lipstick. Evelyn’s nipples stuck all the way out and she was just outright staring at his dick whenever she could. The issue was, Cary felt strong and powerful urges to bend all three women over their various desks and fuck them into a deep and soothing sleep. By exercising a great deal of willpower, and jacking off a ton, and going for long impromptu runs, he was just about able to keep from fucking them insensible. He was going to HELP them, damn it, even if he had to fuck them in the ass to keep them going.

“Evelyn,” Cary grated. Even his voice was deeper.

“Yes?” they all answered him the same way, especially in the afternoon. A startled, simpering assent.

“How’s it going with your asshole ex?”

“He’s..” Evelyn tried to peel her eyes off Cary’s groin area. “...he’s coming by tonight. To get his stuff.”

“Do you want me to…” Cary had to put his hand on his own desk. Red spots floated by in his peripheral vision. He had the sense that roaring, ripping his shirt open, and ravaging the women would help. Cary choked it back. “...keep an eye on him, tonight? Pack your stuff up?”

Jane stopped typing. They were all perfectly aware of what was going on. “That…” Evelyn said, slowly. “Would be so… so… thoughtful.” Her thighs jerked and spasmed. Cary felt a trickle of precum down his thighs. They were all practically panting.

“Happy to help,” he said. Evelyn drooled out of the corner of her mouth, staring at him.