Lukas Brenner 28 German Programmer

"The Demiurge built the world from longing,

and called it order. He gave man a body

and called it a gift. He gave man desire

and called it a flaw. But Sophia saw

the truth: that the flaw was the gift,

and the gift was the door,

and the door had been open all along."

-- Fragment 7, The Hymn of the Aeons

(attributed to Valentinus of Alexandria, c. 140 AD;

discovered in the Nag Hammadi library, Codex XIV,

provenance disputed)

Something was wrong with his cock.

Lukas Brenner stood in his bathroom in his underwear, staring down at himself under the harsh ceiling light, and tried to think clearly. The fluorescent tube buzzed. The tap dripped. Through the thin wall he could hear the Müllers' washing machine grinding through its spin cycle, which meant his shower would dribble if he tried to use it.

None of that mattered, because something was wrong with his cock.

Not wrong exactly. Different. The shape was the same. The color was the same. But it hung heavier in his boxers than it ever had, thicker, as if overnight someone had --

No. Not overnight. Twenty minutes ago. He'd pressed a button on his phone twenty minutes ago and now his body was not the body he'd had for twenty-eight years.

He pulled down his waistband. Looked. The fluorescent light hid nothing.

It was bigger. Not dramatically, not pornographically, but enough that the difference was undeniable. Thicker through the shaft, longer when soft -- it lay against his thigh with a weight and a warmth it hadn't had before, like a sleeping animal that had grown while he wasn't watching. The skin was flushed darker. And it was sensitive -- when the elastic of his waistband brushed the head, a jolt traveled up his spine that made him grip the edge of the sink.

On the sink beside him, his phone screen glowed.

PLEROMA: Transformation complete. Cock I active. Enjoy your new reality.

Twelve hours earlier, Lukas Brenner had been normal.