The Job Offer

A few days later St Perpetua’s job offer arrives in your inbox. Salary better than expected. Conditions as bad as you feared. You could turn it down, but then what else would you do? You sign it and send it back.

Changes are happening anyway.

You’ve already given your landlord notice. Your bank balance is very explicit. There’s no way you can stay there without a job. Your parents’ house is rent free, mortgage free. Even if you didn’t get the job at St Perpetua’s you’d have had to move there.

But bigger changes are happening to your body.

The growth in your genitalia is only the most obvious change. Back at the flat you can’t resist seeing how it performs. You spend a day watching porn. Only those with monster dicks are bigger than yours. None of the male performers appear as hard as yours. Each time you ejaculate you marvel at how much sperm you shoot out. And the pleasure that engulfs your body is like a ****. Before sex was burdened by it being a messy business, messy business that sometimes the pleasure didn’t feel enough compensation for everything else. With these new genitalia, the pleasure is overwhelming. And the recovery period between ejaculation and getting hard again is a fraction of how long it used to be. That day of porn you cum six times, and the only thing stopping you from trying a seventh is the ache in your wrist.

The next day you repeat the experiment, and you perform just as vigorously as the day before.

There appears to be no end to the amount of jizz you can produce. You appear to have no problem getting hard however many times you’ve already ejaculated. You have become a sex god as the antiquarian’s notebook suggested.

You examine the marks on your arms where the armlets had sat. Calling them tattoos rather than burn marks seems more accurate. They don’t smudge. They don’t wash off. It’s as if they’ve merged with you. You can pass them off as tattoos. You just need an explanation as to why you had them done. You guess your fascination with everything Celtic is a start.

But there are other, more subtle, changes happening as well. You haven’t changed your diet or exercise regime, but whereas before the flab remained, now it falls off. You’re leaner, more muscular. Your hair is thicker. Your skin shines with health. You have more energy.

You take a week to pack your meagre possessions into your car. You hand over the keys to your landlord and you set off back to your hometown. It’s strange. You should be worrying about your future, but you haven’t been this optimistic for years.