epilogue 2

John stands in a huge office overlooking the city skyline. Dark wood and polished brass lines the furniture and fixtures of the sprawling room. A huge desk seemingly hewn from a single slab of mighty redwood sits shining in the light cascading from the floor to ceiling windows. Despite the official trappings, John stands shirtless, his massive quaking form thrown into stark relief by the setting sun. His legs are wrapped in a pair of black business pants, a long and thick protrusion running down his right thigh, and on his feet are custom made Italian leather shoes, shined to a mirror polish. In the background, through the thick walls of the office space, moans and screams can be heard along with the pleasured sighs and groans of countless individuals locked in sexual congress.

“Log 19. I think the end is rapidly approaching for these logs. I now have as much data as one could ever need to analyze the effects of my experiments. It’s odd, given that I abandoned my strict schedule of logs long ago, but the idea of stopping is surprisingly bittersweet. Perhaps I’m still struggling to accept that I succeeded. That I changed into this.” John spreads his arms out wide, his lats flare like great wings beneath his shoulders and his pecs stretch with the motion until every sinew is visible. “When I began, I only wanted to be a better boyfriend for Julia. To be the man I felt she deserved. I thought maybe I’d get to 6 feet tall, maybe a fitter body. To say I was sorely mistaken is a vast understatement.”

John turns and looks out at the city, the mountainous terrain of his back pulses and shifts with each breath. “It has been 6 months since the last log we recorded in the neighborhood community center. I am now one of the richest people in the world, capable of buying anything I could desire. I’ve changed millions of lives, saved millions more. They are calling me a savior, a miracle worker, the greatest mind of all time. I’m not sure that’s true. I’m just an extremely lucky man who underwent a dangerous experiment and somehow lived to tell the tale. This camera that I’m talking to is an invention of the company that Ms. Hollister and I own. It was created by several researchers who had been enhanced by our product. Repulsor technology and advanced following algorithms allow it to track me throughout my day. I can do anywhere, do anything and it will follow as if it was carried by a paparazzi.” John reaches into a hidden compartment in the walls of the office and pulls a crisp white business shirt from its confines. He slides it over his arms and shoulders, buttoning it up as far as possible, which in his case means leaving both of his pectorals open to the air. He checks the cuffs of the shirt and begins to move out of the room. The camera swings behind him as he is walking, being sure to capture all his frame in the shot, his back straining the fabric of the custom-made shirt and his legs and ass bulging out against his

[pants.

As

](http://pants.As) he enters the main office area, the camera scans across the space, taking in the Saturnalia that has taken over the floor. The entire spectrum of human sexuality is represented on the floor, most people falling somewhere in the middle of the extremes. While they simply look like the porn versions of normal humans and make up the vast majority of the workforce, there are **** cases on the floor as well. Massive men are grouped together in the corner, worshiping each other’s new rippling musculature. They congratulate each other on a successful marketing campaign. Bimbos travel between desks, offering their wet and willing holes for stress relief. Femboy programmers live up to the joke, riding thick dildos and coding hundreds of lines in minutes. Dominant Amazons and dickgirls patrol the cubes, keeping the more “distracted” employees in line and doling out punishment for those who need more focus. The sweet smell of X-hanced fluids fills the air, overloading the senses with potent pheromones and driving every person into a sexual fervor.

“This is the C-suite of our company. There are 3 more floors below here that are basically the same. Thanks to the enhancements to their minds, they accomplish 3 times the work of a “normal” person while fucking and sucking each other into oblivion. Our logistics are next gen, renewable, and cost effective. In fact, we’ve made major strides in reducing airborne carbon and lowering the planet’s temperatures.” A lean woman, standing at least 7 ½ feet tall, all sleek muscle passes by John. She gives him a worshipful look and caresses and kisses his chest. John rumbles slightly in arousal and lifts the woman’s face up to look into his eyes. “Hi, Melissa. Good to see you. I’m sure you’re being a good girl and handling the Indian market rollout.” The deep vibrations of his voice and the stare of his golden eyes into hers drives her into a screaming orgasm, collapsing to the floor. “She’ll be fine, she just has a praise kink.” He shoots a bashful grin at the camera and proceeds further down the hallway towards the other side of the floor. He passes a large display of products, all displayed like trophies, in the center, a vial of X-Hance.

“This is a selection of our new product lines that we are working on. X-Hance obviously is the flagship product, but we’ve also made several other enhanced items. We have an entire line of cosmetics made primarily from the sexual fluids of X-Hanced people. Even on the non-dosed, it smooths and clears the skin, plumps the lips, gives fuller hair, cures baldness. Some of them even put hair on you, which is useful for those people who never could grow a beard or chest hair and would like to. We have weight loss supplements for those who aren’t quite ready for X-Hance. While the effects of the serum on the morbidly obese and the severely underweight have been shown to be safe and healthy, some people would like to be a little closer to their ideal weight before taking the serum. We have lines of clothing for enhanced people made of stretchy yet stylish fabrics. We are even researching creating a nutrition source from cum, which would turn what is now mostly a waste fluid due to the sheer amount people come now into a cheap source of food!” John turns and keeps going down the way towards another large wooden door. In front of the door, at a high desk sits Sylvia, perched nearly a foot into the air from her seat by her massive ass and hips. Her fingers are flying across a keyboard creating a constant sound of keys clacking so fast that it is more of a buzz. She still wears stylish glasses and her overalls, but the lenses no longer have a prescription and her overalls have had to be custom made to contain her quaking cheeks and thighs. She smiles at John as he approaches.

“Good morning Mr. Simons, here to check on Mrs. Simons? She’s just about finished with the Malta Convention. I’d be more than happy to provide you a temporary distraction while you wait.” She licks her plump lips and smiles greedily at John’s pulsing cock. She stands and presses herself into John’s body, slipping a hand underneath his open shirt to feel the iron hard muscle there. John can only growl and give her a scorching kiss while taking one of her ass cheeks into his iron grip, the wobbly orb overflowing his huge hand. Sylvia moans and begins to sink to her knees when the sound of a lock clicking open draws both of their attention. The tall doors slide open, welcoming John into the office.

Where John’s office is styled in old world masculinity, Julia’s office is bright, modern, and distinctly feminine. Wall art and small sculptures decorate the space, and a clear acrylic desk sits in the center. This office also enjoys floor to ceiling windows and a slightly different view of the city below. Sitting, or more accurately, floating behind the desk is Julia, in a parody of a business outfit. A small jacket encases her torso and covers most of her blouse, a silk thing with a neckline that plunges down past her enormous breasts and even shows some of her carved abs. Her skirt barely covers her round ass, only being appropriate for work if she stands perfectly straight, which she rarely does, cocking her hips and bringing the hemline up to show the bottom of her ass to the world. She locks eyes with John and a pained moan echoes in his throat, barely withheld.

“You’re getting better, dear.” She giggles as she slides around her desk to bare her entire body to John. He sits in one of the chairs in front of her, reaching his arms out and pulling her towards him.

“That or you’re still distracted from your meeting.” He pulls up the skirt exposing her dripping pussy to the open air. He takes a long breath then begins to lick and suck on the sensitive slit and the hypersensitive clit hidden within. Julia moans and wraps a hand in his hair, desperately urging him to go deeper and harder with his ministrations.

“The meeting went well, as all meetings do. Sylvie informed me you have a 2 o’clock today. A little fun perhaps?” She gives his head a quick jerk, separating the cunt obsessed man with his target. He smiles and licks the remains of her arousal from his lips. There are still remnants glistening in his luscious beard.

“Just a bit of relaxation. Thought I’d let the other side out for a bit, have some brain-dead fucking and ego boosting. It’s good for keeping things mellow when I must do real work.” He moves to restart his licking, the hands of his wife doing nothing to stop the slow progress of his head towards her thighs. A hot moan squeaks out of her lips as he makes contact.

“A-and what is r-oh god John, real work?” She’s sweating lightly now, John is the only one who could create such a response, the only one who could drive her body to exert this kind of effort to please.

“Making my wonderful wife cum her brains out.” He shoots a wry grin before fully engulfing the outer parts of her sex with his mouth, driving his tongue deep into her slit, undulating it to hit her clit with every movement. She gives a scream and orgasms. Her feet touch the ground. He pulls her on top of him in the chair, both breathing heavily and gazing into each other’s golden eyes. They smile and embrace for a while, holding each other and enjoying the feeling of their partner’s body pressed against theirs. After a while, John releases Julia who stands and readjusts her skirt to its previous daring, but not whorish length.

“Have fun darling.” She resumes her seated posture while floating slightly off the ground, already her attention has turned to the computer in front of her. John stands and takes a tissue from her desk, wiping the remains of her orgasm from his face. He turns to leave, oblivious to his wife’s longing looks and wandering fingers as she watches him go through her door. The camera follows John down a new section of the floor, to another huge door labelled “MEETING ROOM.” John pushes into the room and is met with a trio of sun-tanned stereotypical beach bunnies. Each of them wears a different color of bikini, the only differentiating feature between them. John quickly strips off his clothes and shoes, leaving himself in only his overstuffed boxer briefs. The room has been set up to emulate a beach scene, piles of sand and deck chairs sit under umbrellas while specialized lights in the ceiling create an approximation of sunlight. The room is hot, and the sounds of waves are played over speakers recessed into the ceiling.

“Terri, Tara, Tammy. You guys ready to have some fun?” Already his voice is changing, taking on a more relaxed tone, the old persona of the recently changed John seeping back into reality. The trio can only titter as they move towards him, running their hands over the parts of his body they can reach.

“Johnnyyyyy, we can smell her on you… you didn’t give her all the cum you saved for us, did you?” The trio give John a sextuplet of puppy dog eyes while continuing to caress his body. John simply moves to a nearby towel, laying down and putting his arms behind his head. The artificial sunlight soaks into his tan skin, filling him with a comforting warmth.

“No, babe, I just ate her out a little, gotta keep the main chica happy, ya know?” When John opens his eyes, they have a new duller sheen to them, as if the higher awareness he always projected suddenly vanished. The three T’s each take a position, one on each side and another straddling one of his tree trunk legs. The bimbo in the pink bikini, Tara, grabs a large bottle of suntan lotion from a bag. She covers her hands in the slick oil and begins to cover her bouncing boobs. The other two, blue bikini Terri and golden bikini Tammy, follow suit before pressing themselves into John’s muscles, spreading the oil onto him with only their chests. John simply closes his eyes and loses himself in a pool of tit flesh, only the soft humming and giggling of the three girls interrupting his brain break. Eventually, the women find their breasts insufficient for the job of applying oil to their favorite guy, and they begin to massage John in earnest with their hands. John absentmindedly remembers that the three T’s took a quick certification in massage therapy for fun and pleasure, their enhanced minds soaking up the information like bubbly sponges. They work the tendons and joints of his body, digging into his muscles. There is a tacit understanding that they are only able to manipulate John’s muscles and skin because he lets them, relaxing his body enough to be manipulated by their comparatively weak hands. While each girl casts glances at or bites their lip while fantasizing about John’s enormous cock, none of them make a move to pull it out, despite its steady throbbing and lengthening, the very tip threatening to poke out from the bottom of John’s right leg.

“You’re, like, tots the most amazing guy ever Johnny.” Whispers Tara into his ear while her hand worships his chest.

“Such a fucking HUNK!” squeaks Terri as she digs her fingertips into the deep grooves of his abs.

Tammy remains silent, grinding her drenched bikini bottoms against his thigh, finding the ridge of one of his defined muscles pressed perfectly to her sensitive pussy. Her breath quickens and with a whimpering gasp, she cums from the stimulation. “Fuck Johnny… baby… sir…” John quickly smacks her ass, leaving a bright red whelp on one cheek, pulling a loud yelp from the poor orgasming girl.

“No ‘sir’ shit here. I’m just Johnny, your huge, hung, and horny boy toy, and you guys are all my babes.” He wraps a hand around each of the girls at his side, bringing them in for a three-way kiss. He looks down at Tammy. “How about you make up for killing the vibe by worshiping my fat fuck stick, yeah?” Tammy squeals and pulls the briefs down, freeing the massive rod underneath. It dwarfs her forearm both in length and girth, but she greedily begins to lick, suck and kiss it, preparing it to fill all three of them with the cum they desire.

Terri looks upset. “Aww, I wanted to worship your cock, baby. I’ve done so well this week!” She pouts before John gives her a deep kiss, when he breaks away, her eyes are lidded, and a dopey smile plays across her face.

“She’s just getting it ready, babe. Tell ya what, since you seem so upset, you get first ride.” Terri throws her arms around his bull neck and cheers.

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” Now it’s Tara’s turn to pout.

“So, if like, she gets to worship your cock, she gets to ride you first, like, what do I get to do?” John laughs, the deep sound bouncing off the walls of the room. He picks the girl up and has her straddle his shoulders.

“You get to be eaten out first, obvs.” He gives her a wink and tears her bottom away with his teeth before diving in for a second round of pussy eating in the last hour. With a quick turn of his head, he issues an order to Terri. “I’m lubed enough, good job Tammy. You’re allowed to finger yourself while you watch me make Terri and Tara cum. Hop on Ter-bear.” There’s a giggle and he feels the immense tightness of Terri envelop his cock. Of the three, Terri has always been the tightest fit, but she’s also been the most fun to break. John returns to cunnilingus, fighting the pleasure being fired through his cock to his mind and focusing on the heady taste of Tara’s pussy. Her thick thighs surround him, muffling the world and darkening his view, but his enhanced senses draw an invisible map in his mind of the vision ahead of him, guiding him in precisely where and when to lick and suck to cause maximum pleasure. The motion of her hips lets him know that he is succeeding. On his cock, Terri is using her internal muscles to run a ripple of contractions up and around his cock head, similar to a massage gun slowly pulsing on the most sensitive part of his penis.

With a shift of his shoulders and a lift and twist, John flips Tara to face her bimbo sister, enjoying the bouncing of her ass while he continues to bombard her clit with stimulation. In her fugue state, she leans forward, meeting Terri in the middle and pressing their tits together before finally bringing their lips to one another. The multitude of sensations pushes Tara over the edge, and she falls off of John’s face, moaning and squirting into the sand covering the floor. Tammy moves to take her place, but John gives her a stern look. Appropriately cowed, she sits back and resumes her masturbation. John looks down at Terri, she’s drooling now and barely cogent. She suddenly snaps back to awareness when she feels a pair of giant hands grasp her waist.

“Are you ready?” John wears a permanent smirk in this state of mind, this one even further exaggerated as he slowly begins to apply pressure to Terri’s hips, making it clear this question is more rhetorical than anything. Terri can only moan and nod before John pulls her down on his cock, driving inch after inch into her sopping pussy. She can’t take all of it, but more than a foot of hard dick is buried into her, creating a visible bulge in her lower abdomen. She screams in ecstasy and convulses in pleasure, the muscles inside of her quivering around the sudden massive intruder. Her brain is short circuited for a time as John begins to move in and out of her at an accelerated rate. “Gonna fuckin’ cum. Gonna fuckin’ fill you.” There’s a small grunt and John presses even further into Terri, once again sure that he has resculpted her to only be able to take him as he jettisons rope after rope of thick, sweet smelling cum into her snatch. Her own orgasm rocks her mind and bathes it in dopamine. Much like Tara, she simply slides off John, a moaning mess of a girl. Tammy is smiling at John as he turns his attention to her. He only has one word for the girl as he stands and faces the camera drone.

“Lick.” He hefts the still hard piece of meat to her lips as she dutifully begins cleaning his cock. He smiles and looks at the camera. “So yeah, shit’s good. I think I better cut this log off before I record what’s gonna happen to Tammy here. Let’s just say that with the way X-Hanced bodies can adapt, we’re about to find out how much cock I can hide inside her. Her record is 14 inches, but I bet we can get 16 today.” There’s a moan and a small whimper of arousal from Tammy. “She loves doing shit to piss me off so we can play this game, but I have to be patient with her. If I did it every time, it wouldn’t be special, ya know? Anyways, see ya when I see you. John out.”

The godlike physique of the man flexes in a parody of a teen movie poster. John stands, flexing oversized biceps and an oiled, now deeply bronzed body while a buxom blonde kneels at his feet, joyfully cradling his massive dick. Two more thoroughly fucked out blondes sit tangled together, lustful eyes gazing up at the Adonis who has conquered him. The final frame of the recording shows a man who had accomplished his original mission. He had become the man he had always dreamed he could be.