You Reap What You Sow

Thomas sat in seat 8A, his preferred seat on Trans South Pacific Airways. He hated the airline, but his company made him travel them, and after all, the miles he accrued would allow him to take Paula, his wife, to Miami for Christmas.

This trip was the usual presentation to a group of investors about how his company’s new resort would be built in such a way as to protect the environment and create local jobs. He smiled to himself, knowing that it was all bollocks – the environment would be bought through bribing locals and the only jobs created would be low skilled and low paid. He could spin any story. That’s why they paid him, and that’s what he enjoyed.

“Hi, my name is Josh,” said the stranger in 8B, holding out a hand.

Shit, a talker, thought Thomas; he hated to make idol chatter with people on planes, especially with an 8 hour flight ahead. “I’m Thomas,” he said without meeting Josh’s hand.

As the plane took off it was clear that Josh was not going to ease up on the conversation, but after the third glass of champagne, it wasn’t too bad. Josh was so impressed with the plans for the resort and how it was going to offer jobs for the locals and blah bah.

Thomas woke to a sharp pain in this right leg; he sat bolt upright, disoriented and hung over. He rubbed his leg and turned to see Josh fastening his seat belt ready for landing.

“You were out, dude! Too many bubbles! You better buckle up. We are going to be on the ground in a minute,” said Josh.

Thomas and Josh exchanged pleasantries as Thomas jumped into the car to the hotel. He loved Rio although he would not be ‘playing out’ tonight. He had to get a good night’s sleep before his presentation. As he drove through the streets, he called his wife and absentmindedly rubbed his cock through his trousers, to the amusement of the driver.

Thomas arrived in the room and dumped his overnight bag and stripped off his clothes as he walked into the bathroom. He stopped and looked at himself in the mirror. At 34, he had a good body; strong, lean and smooth. He had a strong jaw and piercing blue eyes, with a mop of fashionably ruffed dark brown hair. For a moment, he almost seemed mesmerised by his own body, and he found his hand drifting to his expanding cock. He slowly began pumping his cock as it expanded to a full 7 inches, rubbing his chest and feeling the stubble that grew between his solid pecs. In moments he came, getting disoriented by the power of his orgasm.

Thomas washed off in the shower, exhausted and spent. As he towelled down, he looked again at his body – why was he so horny?

He woke with the alarm clock. He stumbled into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. Turning his head from side to side rubbing his stubble, he looked rough. It looked like he hadn’t shaved for a few days. When had he last shaved?

He started to shave. It was hard going, but he hated body hair. Next, he removed the stubble between his pecs. As he walked into the shower, he caught a view of he body he noticed his morning wood. That needed to be fixed in the shower.

Thomas straightened his tie in the elevator mirror. Looking sharp, he thought to himself as the lift doors opened. As he walked into the empty auditorium a young Brazilian guy greeted him.

“Hi I’m Orlando. I’m here to make sure that your presentation is set up and you have what you need.”

“Great, show me to the podium,” said Thomas.

Orlando smiled and walked ahead. Thomas followed Orlando all the while watching how Orlando’s back muscles rubbed against his tight t-shirt and how his jeans sat low on his on the curve of his arse, displaying black boxer briefs. Orlando turned and noticed Thomas’ stare. Embarrassed, Thomas took his laptop to the podium and connected his presentation. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he looking at this guy’s arse. He hated queers.

The presentation did not go well. He stumbled over his spin, and he struggled to pronounce some of the words on his slides. He couldn’t stop thinking about Orlando’s arse. At the end of the presentation, one of the key investors grabbed hold of Thomas’ arm.

“What the fuck was that? Was that some kind of joke? It’s a good thing that this deal is in the bag; otherwise, you would be fired. Get yourself back to London tonight. I don’t want you at tonight’s presentation – that was amateur.”

Thomas protested but to no avail. He simply sat on the edge of the stage and tried to work out what went wrong. Orlando broke his thought as he walked onto the stage, Thomas stood up and thanked him for his help and started making small talk.

“Hey, I’m flattered, but I ain’t into guys,” said Orlando, stepping back. It was at that moment that Thomas realised that he had been rubbing Orlando’s arm with his hand.

“I am not gay,” protested Thomas. “I – I was just being friendly.”

“So why are you sporting a hard on?”

Sure enough, Thomas was sporting a huge boner. He grabbed his laptop and briefcase and headed for his room.

By the time he had got to his room, he was painfully hard, He lay on bed, undid his zip and started to work his hard on. Lost in his orgasm, he came all over his suit, He sat up on the edge of the bed and instinctively licked the cum off his fingers. The taste made him almost growl.

Fuck! What he just done? A sea of emotion filled his mind. This had been a real fucked up trip. He had to shower and get to the airport.

As he walked through the airport, boarding pass in hand, he tried to piece together the events of the day. He was only disturbed by a familiar voice calling his name. Thomas turned to see Josh standing behind him.

“Hey Thomas, you look bad my friend. Let me buy you a drink.”

Thomas followed Josh into the airport sports bar, where the bartender poured two scotches.

Thomas was about to start small talk when with a stern look on his face, Josh stopped him.

“Thomas, listen to me. I need you to understand what is happening to you.” Thomas tried to interject, but Josh continued. “You are going to help me and my organisation. I work for the Green Planet League.”

Thomas’ eyes widened. Those people were eco-terrorists who had threatened virtually every resort the company had built in the last 10 years.

“We want you to stop your company building the resort here in Rio. That’s all we ask.”

“Josh, this is not possible. My company …”

“We thought that might be your reaction, but this is not as simple as it appears. We have given you a ‘gift’ that may help you change your mind. It was hard for us to decide what we should give you, and then we remembered what you did to the primates in Uganda, when your development almost destroyed an entire species and not to mention when you reported our man in UAE to the authorities for being gay. He got forty lashes.”

Thomas looked at Josh confused. “What are you talking about? I don’t have time for this.”

“You better listen. On the flight yesterday, I gave you a shot that is working on changing your DNA, reprogramming who you are. Does you leg still hurt?”

Thomas rubbed his leg and sat back in his chair.

“Thomas, it’s simple. If you stop your company from building the resort, we will give you the cure. If you don’t, you will become sexually attracted to men and be unable to control your urges as you start to devolve into a Neanderthal. Your life will be over.”

“I have never heard such shit,” said Thomas starting to leave his chair.

“Don’t be too hasty. This is a card with my number. Call me when you have confirmation that you have stopped the development. I reckon you have about a week before you are lost, mentally and physically. If the process goes too far, we may not be able to fully reverse it, so I would recommend you be quick.” Josh stood up and met Thomas’ stare. “You have been injected for 24 hours, and it looks like you are already driven by this in your pants.” He placed his right hand on Thomas’ groin.

Thomas boarded the plane and took his seat. How could this day get any more bizarre? The lengths these tree huggers would go to make a point; he must really have them on the run if they believed that stupid scare stories would change corporate direction. Yes, he had been horny, very horny – maybe someone had put Viagra in his drink. Josh would have had plenty of opportunity on the plane yesterday.

As the aircraft door closed, a thin, blond, camp steward brought him a glass of champagne. Thomas looked at his name badge and smiled. “Thanks Jason”. Jason coyly smiled back.

The flight back to London was overnight, and Thomas woke mid-Atlantic, really horny. His erection felt bigger. It almost felt like the tip of his penis was pushing against the waist of his trousers. The cabin was dark, and he decided to go and relieve himself in the bathroom. As he walked through the galley, he saw Jason making a coffee.

“Can I get you anything? I get so bored on these night flights when everyone is asleep,” Jason offered.

“I, I – could do with some water.”

As Jason handed him the water he looked down at Thomas’ crotch. Thomas took the glass with his left hand and with his right led Jason’s hand to his crotch. Jason started to massage the bulge in Thomas’ trousers while Thomas moaned.

Thomas violently pushed Jason into the airline lavatory and pulled off his shirt to reveal Jason’s hairless chest. Thomas twisted him around and ripped down his pants and boxers. Jason did not protest. Thomas undid his trousers and rubbed the head of his penis against the crack of Jason’s arse, shoved Jason’s head against the mirror. Thomas pushed his cock into Jason as he whimpered, rhythmically probing his arse and biting the back of Jason’s neck. Within seconds Thomas’ strokes had turned to spasms as cum had exploded into Jason’s arse. As the two recovered, Thomas stared at his image in the toilet mirror. His eyes looked feral and sunken, his face dark with stubble.

Thomas recoiled, banging his back on the toilet door. “I’m sorry. What the fuck have I done? I’m sorry.”

Jason turned round “Sorry? That was fucking awesome” Thomas pulled up his trousers. Jason tried to kiss him, but Thomas pushed him away, left the lavatory and went back to his seat where he tried to rationalise what had happened. Why had he almost raped Jason? He was not queer!

As Thomas left the aircraft, Jason told him he would be in staying at the Excelsior that night before flying back to Brazil the following day. Embarrassed, Thomas nodded.

When he arrived home, his wife had left for work. He was back in UK, and what happened in Brazil stayed in Brazil. It was a bad nightmare nothing more. He loved his wife, and he loved women.

He carried his suitcase up to the bedroom and started to undress. He needed a shower, a strong cup of coffee and then to work. He walked into the bathroom and was stunned by the sight in the mirror. He did not just have stubble on his face. It was almost a beard, and his eyebrows were bushier and almost met in the middle. He quickly removed his shirt, and his pecs were covered with swirls of short brown hair that even extended to his stomach. His legs looked normal, maybe slightly hairer but when he pulled down his boxers he could not believe how his pubic hair had spread out across his thighs and towards his belly button, not to mention the size of his balls and cock, which was 6 inches soft. The problem was it was not remaining soft – he wanted sex badly.

He sat on the edge of the bath and put his head in his hands, his eyes welling up with tears. “Shit! this is really happening.” His mind raced, what should he do? Could they really do what they said they were going to? People don’t just turn gay? Jason’ hairless chest. How could he stop the changes? Which hotel did Jason say he was staying? Stop. Keep focused. He would call Josh, and he would stop the resort.

Thomas walked into the bedroom, his penis bouncing against his stomach as he walked. He picked up his jacket and removed Josh’s card. As he put his jacket down, the cashmere sleeve caressed the head of his cock. A wave of sheer pleasure caused a lightness in his head that made him lose focus and reach for his penis. He fell back on the bed, stroked his enlarged organ and milked the shaft. He thought about Jason, and how his arse muscles had clamped on to his penis. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he shot ribbons of cum up to his chest. The smell of semen ignited thoughts of abandonment and sexual liberation. With his right hand he scooped up the pool of cum on his chest and placed it in his mouth, sucking on his fingers as he removed them. Exhausted, he passed out.

Thomas awoke with a start. Shit, he had been asleep for three hours. Next to him lay Josh’s card. He picked up the phone by the side of the bed. He stared in disbelief. He had short brown hair growing on his arms and over the backs of his hand, almost to his knuckles. It was not excessive, but it was much more than he had yesterday.

He read the card and dialled the numbers. His fingers stumbled, and it took three attempts to get the number dialled correctly.

“Hello Thomas,” said the voice.

“How did you know it was me?”

“You are the only person I gave this number. Do we have a deal? Is the development stopped?”

“I will go to the office today, and I will talk to the CEO and get it stopped. It may take me some time.”

“Remember what I said. We can only reverse the process so far. It is your life you are playing with – we need a signed affidavit from your CEO. Once you have it bring it to me here in Brazil, and I will give you the antidote.”

“Brazil? What about London?” exclaimed Thomas, stress evident in his voice

“The antidote is here if you want it.”

“I, I… I will talk to him today and get the, the affid.. affid the official document to you.”

“Oh Thomas, you are quite far gone, aren’t you? Not able to grasp those complicated words any more? You have been working your penis a little too much. Each time you cum, it accelerates the DNA change.”

“You bastard.” Thomas dropped the phone - he had to focus. He needed to get to the office and convince Clinton, the CEO to stop the project. First he had to shower and shave, he could not go to the office looking like this. As he was towelling down he started to feel better. Even if the antidote returned him to how he looked now it would be OK. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and thought, I’d shag me, I aint that hairy. I just need to resist the urge to cum.

As he dressed he realised that is body had changed. His boxer briefs struggled to contain his enlarged balls and penis. His trousers were too long by almost an inch. His shirt tails were almost to short to fit into his trousers, and his sleeves were too short for his arms. He could pull it off, although he was aware of the bulge in the front of his trousers. He donned a long overcoat and headed out of the house to the car.

The journey to work was difficult. Traffic was bad, and he struggled to concentrate, missing his junction off the motorway and turning into the wrong car park. He kept looking at the hair on the back of his hands as he drove. His coordination was also off. He tried three times to reverse into his parking space. Eventually he decided to park in the visitors’ bay.

Thomas walked into his office, took off his coat and plonked down on the chair, and in the process his shirt rode up, displaying his increasingly hair stomach. He reached out to his keyboard and typed his password into the computer. It was rejected. He tried again but it still would not work. He yanked the keyboard off the desk and, almost with a growl, threw it at the wall. He was stunned and scared by his own actions, and with a point of clarity he realised he could live with the physical changes but what about the mental? He did not want to end up as some gay retard.

He picked up his phone and dialled Clinton’s office where his secretary picked up the phone. He explained that it was vitally important that he saw Clinton today. She told him that he was in Frankfurt and would not be back until the following morning. She booked him in at 11AM. She asked what the meeting was about, and at that moment he realised that he did not know how he was going to persuade Clinton not to build.

He stared at the wall of his office and tried to work out how he was going to get Clinton to sign the affidavit. The problem was every time he thought of an idea he would get distracted and lose concentration. The biggest distraction was when Mike the office boy brought in his mail.

“Hiya matie, how was Brazil? Man, you look like shit. You must have been banging some serious pussy.”

Thomas looked up and was about to speak but just stared at Mike. Thomas was bathing in Mike’s sharp green eyes, his tight young body, the dimple in his chin and the deep lush of chest hair that gushed from the neck of his open shirt.

“Mate, you are freaking me out.” He threw the post on the desk and walked out. Thomas transfixed on his arse.

Thomas gained composure and realised he was stroking the head of his penis, which was now starting to peek out over the top of his trouser waist. Shit, I have to stop this I can’t cum. Too late.

He cleaned himself up and decided he needed to think. He grabbed his coat and left the office building. He inhaled the musty autumn air. It smelled special, alive. He inhaled again and could smell nappies off from a baby across the street, the stale perfume of an old lady at the bus stop and the steak from the wine bar across the street. Hunger drove him across the street. Thomas walked into the wine bar and sat at the bar. The barman, a tall Italian looking guy in his thirties, came up and placed a beer mat on the counter.

“What can I get you?” he said with a smile.

“Steak – Rare – Now,” was Thomas’ abrupt reply.

“OK?” said the barman, looking quizzical about Thomas’ abruptness. Realising this, Thomas apologised. The barman then asked if Thomas would like anything to drink. Thomas wanted to order a bottle of his favourite red, but he couldn’t quite remember the name. The barman suggested the house.

As the wine arrived, Thomas wanted to reach out for the glass and removed his jacket, revealing that his arms had grown more hair and to his dismay his fingernails had darkened and grown. He drank the whole glass in one mouthful and replenished the glass. As the barman brought the food, Thomas caught himself about to pick the steak up with his hand. He paused, that was bad? He picked up his knife and folk and relished the steak, swilling it down with wine.

As he digested his meal, he looked across the now empty bar towards the barman who was clearing glasses. Thomas inhaled and could smell his cologne. The barman smelled of sex, which made his penis stir. Catching Thomas’ gaze, the barman came to remove his plate.

Thomas engaged in small talk, the alcohol clouding his judgement and before long the barman was responding to his flirts.

“I get out of here in 30 minutes. Let me go clear up, and maybe you could come round to mine for a glass of wine? I only live around the corner,” suggested the barman. Thomas nodded as the barman walked over to finish his work.

Thomas’ brain raced. Why was he doing this? He knew sex was bad and could only make things worse, but he had not cum since this morning, and how many times had it taken for him to get the this state. One more time couldn’t hurt? No, no. He would not have sex, but he could not go back to his wife looking like this. He would have a drink, find a hotel and go see Clinton tomorrow morning. He would fly to Brazil tomorrow, take the antidote and everything would return to normal. Simple.

By the time Thomas had rationalised this thought process, he was being led out of the bar by the barman. As they walked to his apartment, the cool evening air permeated Thomas’ brain, again questioning his logic, but it was too late. He was entering the Barman’s apartment.

“I’m off to have a shower. Make yourself at home. My name’s Tim. What’s yours?” he asked, walking into the bedroom.

“Er… er.” His mind raced. “Thomas,” he concluded. How could he forget his own name?

Thomas entered the small lounge, furnished with replica 1950s furniture. It had a homely camp feel, almost as if it belonged to a sitcom. He removed his coat and walked to the mirror and studied his reflection. His hair looked dishevelled, thick and at least an inch longer than this morning. His eyes were now dark, almost black and his eye brows had formed a uni-brow. He had deep five o’clock shadow that reached high into his cheekbones and disappeared behind his ears and met the hair crawling up the sides of neck. What scared him was that the way he looked excited him, there was a primal hunger growing from within.

In the mirror he saw Tim, naked apart from the towel around his waist. Thomas turned to see Tim’s glistening body, his hair wet and plastered to his head, water droplets running over his pecs and over his six pack before being absorbed into the towel around his waist. He walked over, took Thomas by the hand into the bedroom and pushed him down on the bed. Thomas pulled off his trousers and removed his shirt, revealing the full extent of his hairy body and the size of the erection pushing against his boxer briefs. Thomas has a thick pelt of hair on his chest and stomach, thinning as it grew over his shoulders and down his arms, thickening again around his wrists. His legs where extremely hairy on his thighs, thinning closer to his feet.

“Man, you’re hairy,” said Tim as he positioned himself on the bed. Thomas rolled over and removed his boxers. Tim’s eyes widened when he saw the size of Thomas’s penis and thought of what was about to happen.

Light streamed through the bedroom window, and Thomas blinked. He had his arms wrapped around Tim with his dick firmly up his arse. Tim stirred and the movement sent wave of pleasure through Thomas’ body. Lost in the moment, Thomas pumped, and as he came he growled like an animal.

As he relaxed, he tried to reason with his mind. He needed to get to go to… and… and… get? He needed to meet with… with… Car… at a time. He raised his hand to look at his watch. He studied the dial and tried to register the time. It was… was? He could not understand or completely see his watch as waves of dense arm hair covered part of the watch face. He jumped out of bed.

Tim rolled over and sat up in bed. “Morning sexy,” he said clearing his eyes. “Fuck, fuck, what happened to you?” he pulled the duvet up towards him.

“Uhh…” responded Thomas, looking at his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. His brow protruded forming a knot above his hairy eyelids. His beard extended from just below his eyes down his neck into what could only be described a mane of hair that sprouted from his shoulders, down his long arms, chest and back – the hair so dense no skin could be seen. He looked down at his hairy feet, flat and clawed, following the hair up his legs to groin, where his penis hung almost to his knee.

“I need… to… I think…” Thomas tried to focus on the last of his humanity, but as he looked at Tim and his penis rose to attention.

“Need fuck,” growled Thomas, as he pulled the duvet off Tim and pinned him to the bed.

 

Somewhere over the mid-Atlantic, Jason had just finished the meal service in business class, and the purser took him one side.

“Jason, I know London is an exciting city, but if you must party all night, you must shave before you fly. You look quite unkempt.”

Puzzled, Jason went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. A blond stubbled face greeted him. As he raised his neck, blond hair protruded from the collar of his shirt. He undid the buttons with his right hand to reveal a pelt of blond chest hair, while his left hand frantically jerked himself off. As he came, he growled Thomas’ name.

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