Chapter 01 - CO15

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Author's Note: this is the start of a slow-burn body horror series. Many sexy and (frankly) weird things will happen in time. Everyone in this story is 18 years or older.

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It all started on overtime. I needed the money. I hate working late. The tired monotony of forms upon forms and stamps upon stamps. Sometimes I even dream in lot numbers and warehouse codes. I can see the letters crawling across the endless reams of paper when I close my eyes.

I shifted in my chair, my back and my shoulders ached. I'm also pretty sure that I lost all feeling in my butt an hour ago. The least they could do was give us better chairs. Well, not us. Me. I was the only one here. The only one burning the midnight oil.

I adjusted my glasses and glanced about the office. Dingy, boring, dusty -- just like the damn forms. It was little more than a metal box with a creaking aircon box. The other shifts called the latter the "breathing tube", for the facility was several feet below ground. If the AC goes, you go too -- slowly and horrifically. Ah, just the kind of humor that makes you yearn to go back to work, isn't it?

Besides the vital lifeline buzzing away in the corner of the room, the place was pretty spartan. A pneumatic tube system crawled across one wall like tree roots that lacked imagination. Those were for the forms, of course. Once you filled the right one out and ticked all the right boxes, you rolled it up, placed it in a metal cylinder, and sent it away. Four possible routes: Cursed Objects (COs), Biological Entities (BEs), Anomalous Findings (AFs), and Miscellaneous (X). As far as I know, the paperwork gets filled in each of these four underground warehouses -- along with the actual thing it is for.

My job was to sit at this desk right here, sift through the heavy coded field reports, fill in forms, and send the tube away. Day after day. Forever. And then they pay me every month. The fact that the bank statement says "Dark & Mysterious Coffee Shop" is probably none of my business. Certainly not yours. Trust me, on your first day here you sign so many Non-Disclosure forms that you're not even sure that you can tell anyone your real name or not. Suffice to say that the facility is just outside a small town in the middle of nowhere. A black site that does not exist.

Things are so secret here that I don't even know who else works here. Okay, except Nina, but I will get to her in a moment. I never seen anyone else come or go. I know that someone leaves forms and that person or persons unknown occasionally bring items and entities in for storage, but I never see them. Just me, this office, and the mind-numbing boredom.

Oh, yes, Nina. She does exactly what I do. She is the day shift. She is a twenty-something goth girl, ice queen who has said no more than two words to me (i.e. "goodbye, loser"). Black hair, pale skin, stockings, choker, black lace everywhere else. She usually wares black lipstick. She hates me. I hate her too, in principle. But there were many times when I grunted her name as I came over myself. I could not help but imagine those black lips on mine, or on my cock. What did those breasts feel like? Those that strained against the black fabric and that line of cleavage that drove me wild...

A man can dream.

Alas, dreaming was the end all and be all of it. Nina would not spare even a mildly erotic thought for me. I too was a twenty-something, but that was the end of it. I was tall and chubby and rather plain-looking. I had wild brown hair -- I usually looked as if I just got out of bed. I was happy with Jr. -- he had seven inches on him on a good day and was a decent girth. My collage girlfriend seemed to like it. But then again, that is where it stopped. I wonder how long you have to wait between actual sex before they give you your virgin card back. I was expecting it in the mail any day now.

Anyway, back to the incident. Overtime, like I said. Profound boredom, like I said. Boredom makes me insanely horny. While I was staring down at the reference documents and forms upon forms, I could only see Nina's lips. What would it take to make her smile? What would it take to make her moan?

I shifted in my seat again, feeling my hardon grow in my pants. I should just finish these last few and then I can go home and wank my brains out. I could pull it out right here and relieve myself at the desk. I was sorely tempted ... and sorely tenting. The idea of Nina sitting at here on her shift wondering at the stains... I had a problem. Part of me was disgusted by my desires. The other part, well, it spoke for itself.

Just these forms. Just these forms.

The next twenty minutes felt like hours, but I did my duty. The process involved matching the codes on the field notes (just alphabet soup to you or me) with the codes in the guidebooks (more gibberish). This last one was for BE-147 -- a biological entity, as I've said before. What it was, what it looked like, what was special about it -- all of this was a mystery to me. For all I know it was someone's radioactive houseplant.

I rolled it up, placed it in a cylinder, and went over to the wall of pipes. I was still majorly tenting. How long had it been since I rubbed out a load? Too long. Forcing myself to concentrate, I placed the cylinder in the tube marked CO, closed the hatch, and pulled the creaky lever. Only when the hiss of air spirited it away did I realize my error. CO? It was a BE, wasn't it? I pulled the hatch open and stuck my hand it, feeling along the length of the pipe -- long gone. Cold fear overtook my hot arousal. Shit.

Maybe they wouldn't notice. There are dozens of files that go in and out of here every day. Who would notice one simple misfile? Heart, pounding, I returned to the desk and started packing up my belonging. There was no way anyone would notice; I kept telling myself. The pit in my stomach disagreed.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

What would I do if they fire me? I need this job! There was nothing for it. I had to go down into the archives -- down into the forbidden storage rooms in the bowls of the facility. It was as simple as collecting the cylinder in the CO department. Just a quick in and out. No one would notice. No one was here -- or so I hoped.

#

Steels stairs clanged as I rushed down them. Sweat beaded on my brow. My heart was dancing a tango with my stomach -- I was on the verge of throwing up. The cold concrete hallway was lit by buzzing florescent lights. A large steel door barred the way. Painted across it in scratched and faded white paint was: CO Containment, No Unauthorized Entry.

For the record, I don't think I had the right clearance. On the other hand, I was responsible for filing coded documents. I might not be allowed down here, but (1) this a documentary matter, and (2) it was not like I would look at anything else. Little did I know...

I walked up to the keypad and bit my lip. None of this would matter if my keycode didn't work. 9-4-0-2. The pad beeped and the door shifted. A spinning yellow light went as the door opened. Was this a good sign or not? It certainly wasn't part of the orientation video. The massive door opened with the exaggerated slowness of a sci-fi movie. I half expected something sinister to be waiting for me on the other side.

The lit hallway was an anticlimax. More concrete -- a concrete hallway lined with doors upon doors. Each door had numbers on them: 00-10, 11-20, and so forth. It all looked rather bleak and ... well, dull. Welcome to my magnificent workplace filled with the world's greatest mysteries.

I rushed down the hallway. It had to be here somewhere. At the end of it stood a red door with a plaque on it: Documentation. It was not locked. Behind it was a small room riddled with pneumatic pipes. This took me by surprise, of course, because I expected there to be only one. There were hundreds of pipes. I could not make sense of it. A solitary desk and plastic chair stood in the centre of the room -- much like those in my office. A sheet of see-through green plastic was resting on the desk. An army of filing cabinets lined the wall where the door had given me entry.

The cylinder was resting at a hatch somewhere along the back wall. The hatch was labelled: Facility 12. Was there more? More little offices where little people did nonsense paperwork? How depressing. I checked that it contained the document I needed -- it did -- and hastened out of the office. All I had to do was get back and send it to the right place. That's all. Simple as that.

As I rushed back, however, I noticed something out of place. The door marked 11-20 stood ajar. I stopped. It had been closed when I came in -- I was sure of it.

"Hello?" I called as I peered in. No answer. Beyond this was yet another stark hallway lined with doors. I was about to pull it shut (let sleeping dogs lie and all that), when I noticed another door standing ajar. Shit, did I let something in? Or -- worse -- did I let something out? More panic. I rushed in, thinking that if I at least closed all the doors, no one would notice anything. The brass plaque proclaimed it to be room 15. What was behind it could hardly be called a room at all -- more of a closet. Several florescent tubes lit this small space. It contained a single shelf whereupon a strange object stood. It was a red stone -- perhaps only slightly larger than a grapefruit -- almost perfectly round if it wasn't for the strange cleft along its front. A delicate opening revealing a purple interior that glistened in the light.

I could not take my eyes off it. It was beautiful, sexy even. Just looking at it made my loins stir again. I cursed myself under my breath. I was so horny, I found someone's pet rock arousing. Yet, I could not pull myself away. Not using my brain (at least not the one in my skull), I reached out. The glistening was indeed a sticky moisture, something like honey. It smelled amazing. As I pulled my finger away, more liquid oozed out with languorous slowness.

I glanced around. No one. There was never anyone. A dark thought crossed my mind. A dark, sexy, and entirely idiotic thought. Taking care to place the cylinder down -- it is, after all, why I was here -- I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. It was already rock hard with precum glistening on the head.

Sorry that it's been so long, buddy.

I picked up the rock. It was heavy and strangely warm to the touch. Not burning hot, no. More like the radiating heat of a warm body. As I brought it closer to my penis, some part of me wondered if this was a good idea. I am about to put my precious into a stone. A fucked-up stone, yes, but still one that could lacerate... Well, I'd like to say that I gave things due consideration, but no. I put my dick in it. To my surprise and pleasure, the inside was warm and soft. It yielded to me like the inside of an eager lover's vagina. It sucked me in. The sensation was so intense that I felt myself getting close already.

"No," I moaned. "Not yet."

I could feel the sticky, warm liquid run down my balls. The sensation was driving me mad. Overwhelming me. My knees went weak. My vision blurred. I grunted as the contractions of orgasm overtook me. I could feel my hot jizz pulsing out, splashing the inside of the stone. My vision darkened.

I could feel nothing. I couldn't even think. There was only warm nothingness. Slowly, I became aware of my breathing. I could feel my arms and legs. More sore back, my numb butt. With a start, I realized that I was slumped at my desk, asleep, and drooling all over the writing pad. I groggily sat up.

A dream? Really?

I made sense of my surroundings. I was definitely back at the office. Nothing seems to have changed: the documents were where I left them, the files, the stamps, the... Then I noticed the cylinder sitting in the tube marked BE, ready to be sent off. I don't remember doing that.

It was then that I realized that something was wrong with me. My limbs felt sluggish and heavy. My bones in my legs and back felt ... soft? It was hard to explain, for it was not something I had experienced before. It took me a moment to steady myself against the edge of the desk. Then I realized something else: my pants felt full. I glanced down to see a noticeable bulge in my jeans -- not an erection, just a large soft lump.

With panic coursing through my veins, I undid my belt and my pants as quickly as I could. I cried out in surprise when I saw what was hanging there. My dick... I am sure it is my dick because it was definitely attached to me. It must have grown to a good fifteen inches or so -- and it wasn't even hard! It hung low and heavy with a girth I could only dream of. The color was all wrong too. The skin from my pubic area to halfway up the shaft was pitch black, from then on it gradually shifted to a bright red. The same read that stone had been. The head of my cock was broad and amber colored -- in fact, it looked like it was made from amber, it was practically see-through and hard to the touch. My testicles were large and black.

As I stood there with my new monster cock in my hands, I felt a heat rise within me. Shit, do I have enough blood in my body to run this thing?

Before I could do anything else, I could hear heels clicking in the hallway beyond the office door. Shit. Nina. My shift is over.

I pulled my pants up as quickly as I can, trying my best to stuff the damn thing in. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.

She opened the door just as I managed to get the zip up completely. There she stood in her black outfit -- black jeans and black t-shirt (with the words Fuck the World on it) today. Man, those tits of hers were straining against that poor shirt. I wondered what size they were. It took me a moment to realize that she was staring at me, eyebrow raised, arms crossed under those amazing breasts.

"Erm," I said. I quickly grabbed my bag. "Ah, be seeing you! Hope you have a great shift."

She said nothing, only stepped aside so I could leave. I stood in front of her for a moment, hoping to salvage the situation. Her perfectly shaped eyebrow raised even further, her perfect black lips a line of disapproval. Her green eyes scanned my face (yes, I was blushing) and then -- for the briefest moment -- flickered down to the bulge in my pants and then back up to my face. In that millisecond, blood rushed to my mutated nether regions.

"Erm," I said. I felt the fabric of my underwear strain against my monster cock. Embarrassment won out and I quickly rushed out the door.

"Goodbye, loser," I heard her say.

Arousal was boiling through my body. I had to get home. I had to relieve myself. Shit, I had to figure out what all this meant.