Oh the Usual...

It was fortunate that I was an intern and my workload was relatively light because I was finding it rather difficult to focus.

One. The implications if I was right about the power these rings have, were constantly running through my head. Unless there were some restrictions, it seemed like I could control the behavior of... well, everyone and that meant I could do anything. I wouldn't even have to work for a living if I simply made it normal for people to hand me money when I asked for it. Of course, I needed to watch out because maybe these things worked like a monkey's paw and screwed me over somehow. Not that I was seeing any indication of that right now.

Two. People kept stopping by to chat, to a much greater degree than normal. There seemed to be an ulterior motive in most cases. Some people just came right out and asked while others drove the discussion in that direction in the clear hopes that I would volunteer my penis size. And when I wasn't being accosted about it I was plenty distracted by the conversations going on all around me. It seemed everyone was suddenly intent on determining the sizes of everyone else and acting as if it were perfectly normal.

“Here are those reports, Don. By the way- refresh my memory, how big’s your dick?”

“Ah. Uh, well its about seven inches I think. Hey, you know that’s weird. I can’t remember your bra size. That’s kinda rude. I’m sorry.”

“Oh. Don’t worry about it. They’re just B-cups, nice and perky. Seven inches though? That’s nice. I bet your wife is real happy with that…”

"Hey bro, straight six. What you got?"

"Five and three quarters, but its thick. You got girth?"

"Hey hun, sorry to bother you. I know the kids have got you running ragged but could you text me a dick pic when you get the chance-with a ruler measuring it? Sarah and Nicole called bullshit when I told them you were eight inches- Uh-huh... Okay...Oh....You were exaggerating?"

“The whole office is pretty average…”

“But what about Nick? If Dahlia’s right, our intern’s quite the stud-”

“Not likely. He won’t say his size so he’s probably got a sock down there or something.”

Now you would think that the trio of middle aged ladies chatting away in the break-room would only be talking like that if they thought I wasn’t around. But you’d be wrong. I was sitting right at the next table. June was even facing my way!
I was more than a little turned on and I had an inexplicable urge to show my dick to these women right there in the break room. I didn’t, of course. First, because this internship was too important for me to risk. If I was going to test out these rings, I needed to wait for a more anonymous environment. Second, there wasn’t even a hint of disapproval in June’s voice even as she made a comment that surely would have been derogatory in normal circumstances. It was almost like me stuffing the crotch of my pants to project a bigger bulge was simply expected and perfectly appropriate.

After a couple of hours, things seemed to calm down. Oh there was still quite a bit of breast fondling going on but the talk of dicks and tits seemed to die down for the most part. I wondered at that and after a bit I came up with something of a theory. It was normal for people to know some very specific information about their friends, acquaintances, and co-workers. I’d made a change to what was normal very abruptly and everyone had realized they were lacking the knowledge of the dick sizes and breasts of all those around them. So there’d been something of a frenzy as everyone resolved that problem.