[center]Enhanced Lizard Brain[/center] Vials of vibrant ooze. Seals storing slime. Chemicals, chimerical and perplexing, all adorning the tables of the laboratory. Robotic appendages, arms, claws, and beaks. Working in tandem to carry, insert, score, and mix one glowing, radiant, bottle. Windows on two separate floors while numerous eyes behind watch a clear glass container holding a viscous, scintillating liquid possessing a godly aura. Down the conveyor belt it travels, bright, white floodlights aimed at it. Rainbows cast all through the room, painting the walls with greater majesty than the white tiles would normally possess. “Finally!” “Yeah!” “Great work all!” “Fuck yes!” Cheers, applause, and hugging fill the rooms. Lab coats wave and wrinkle with the room of researchers celebrating and partying. Popping corks sound off as a bottle of wine froths over the talons of an avian biochemist. Red froth coats the talons, the dark glass, and drips onto the white, sterile floor. Glasses clink together and streamers start flying. Bouncing balloons thump silently against the walls, taking care to avoid the certificates and framed portraits. Potted plants, posing with sunglasses in their leaves, the makeshift dance partners of numerous staff. Tables line the circular conference room. Figs, apples, pears, artificial hamburgers, tofu, and more with cans of lemonade and water sitting in an open cooler by the plastic cutlery and paper plates at the end. “Sir, we’re going to ignore the wine someone brought in during work hours, right?” Leaning in, the ox wears a satisfied grin on his face while whispering into the crocodile’s ear. “Grape juice isn’t against company policy, right?” Clad in black, his suit nigh a representation of the time. Weary eyes cast a soft expression through the room. Heaving chest echoes a rumbling laugh. Slouching forward, the crocodile heaves himself back into the chair. Crunching, groaning material sags under the weight, overpowering the anthro’s sigh. Shaking his head, the crocodile’s throat rumbles as his deep voice speaks, “All fine.” Scrutiny in his eyes, head bobbing up and down, and a long, drawn-out yawn later the crocodile idly scratches his large stomach. “Though the two of us have more work to do...” “Aaaaah... Right...” Pressing a hoof to his forehead, the ox’s eyes shut. “Well then” cracking his eyelids open, the same scanning expression occupies his face, “whom do we pick?” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ [b]Tick! Tap! Click![/b] Enthusiastic claws proudly, loudly pound two keyboards. One set reptilian and the other canine. Canis Lupus. Crotaphytus Collaris. Away from the party, away from the cheer, the duo continues calculating. Computers ranging from a meter tall to server racks touching the ceiling ten meters up. Freezing air circling unabated through the otherwise featureless room. Plastic squeals roughly as one of the numerous uncomfortable chairs in the room is pushed back from the desks. Clicking claws scrape against the silvery white tile flooring loudly. “Haha! Guess I’ll need to trim them soon.” Patting the large, buff back of the collard lizard, Titus smiles warmly. Golden eyes glowing with excitement. Starkly contrasting with the chill in the room. “Make sure you get out if you feel like hibernating.” Chuckling, the taller reptile shakes his head. Pulling one claw from the keyboard, he tugs at the collar of his shirt. Thick, snug, warm, white wool. Twisting his torso, the blue scales of his neck and arms take the background. Bright yellow scales and shiny emerald-green eyes take the forefront. White screen light glints off his sharp teeth. Crossing his arms, Monroe’s chest lets out a loud thud as the forearms collide with pecs large enough to have plenty of definition despite wearing two layers. “I’ve got that covered. How about you? I know you have fur, but you’re missing the party.” Down and up, up and down Monroe’s gaze goes. Titus’ unkempt brown fur, half-shut eyelids, and sweat-stained clothes cause the reptile’s face to become concerned. “Oh no, no, no! I’m absolutely fine!” Shaking his head, arms, and tail Titus sighs. “You know I’m not one for parties...” Head turning to the doorway, Titus puts his paws on hips. Rough sounds of a clearing throat overwhelm the hum of the machines in the room. Returning his gaze to Monroe, the young lupine’s eyes force themselves open. Dropping a loosely clenched fist from his muzzle to his side, Monroe flicks his tail to Titus’ thigh. Nodding at the door, the lizard smiles softly. Grabbing at his own arm, Titus’ light, cream-colored, flame-shaped fur patterns on his arms cross over each other. Maw opening and closing repeatedly, Titus’ words catch in his throat for a minute. Slouching slightly, the wolf forces a smile. “Uh... Do you think you can wrap up here?” Reaching up, the lizard’s claws scratch his colleague’s head gently. “Sure thing. Go out there and enjoy yourself.” Returning his focus to the console, Monroe resumes typing. “Thanks, friend. Make sure you clock out when you’re done with that too! We’re going to celebrate together!” Claws click loudly as Titus stomps towards the exit. Hot air rushes in once the door opens. Slamming shut, the hot and cold swirl around the room. Behind the reptile’s back, Monroe hears the door opening. Another blast of hot air forces its way inside, rolling out the red carpet for two sets of heavy footprints. Lumbering, wide, burly figures casting long shadows enter the room. Posture straight, and mind sharpening, Monroe turns to see one crocodile and one ox. Both bear an overly wide, constructed smile. Standing tall with prim and proper suits, both politely wave before the crocodile clears his throat. “Good evening, Mr. Lehner! How have you been? I was hoping to discuss something with you before your shift ended.” Holding his arm out, the crocodilian takes a sheet of paper from his bovine assistant. Flipping it around, he holds out the document. Testing Permissions and Waiver Blinking is all Monroe manages. Stunned face, strained eyes, and maw agape uttering only a faint, “Huh?” Numerous fanciful words in impossibly small font pour over the white paper, ending with a dotted line asking for a name. Clapping his claws together, the crocodilian exclaims, “Well, I know this is mighty quick, but now that the project is seeing some success, we’ll have to begin the testing phase.” Freeing a ticking timepiece from his front pocket, the gator forces a grim expression. “Due to the requirement that this be examined on already developed brain matter, we’re asking if you’d submit yourself for an in vivo test. Unprecedented, but we cannot delay.” Glancing down, Monroe’s eyes wander the page. Cursory at best and neglectful at worst. Information kept strictly binary with obscuring legal purple prose. Standard risk waving talk. Clause of confidentiality at the end... Flickering lights from the machinery, the cold breeze from the ventilation ducts, and the gentle breathing from the room’s occupants. Seconds pass with not one word spoken. Inscrutable expressions pass between each of them. ... ... “... You’ll get the honor of being the first superhero. The first REAL superhero, you know.” Bewildered, Monroe’s head turns slightly to gaze at the ox. Waving the paper around in a circular motion. “You know the research better than anyone else here. Super soldier serum designed to give lasting, positive effects on the brain instead of just forcing pills down the throat.” Reaching over, the ox claps Monroe’s shoulder. “I get injecting something into your brain doesn’t sound pleasant, but you’re the best candidate.” ... ... “... Or we could just get your partner. Titus, was it? He’s always been eager to see the effects this project would have.” Chair groaning loudly, the gator leans forward. Standing up, he holds out one scaly paw. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Leh--” Flicking the tip of his tail, Monroe launches a pen into his free hand. Scrawling his name onto the dotted line hastily, he holds the paper out to the crocodile. “Here you are. Starting tomorrow, I take it?” “Wonderful! Glad to see you came around. Infirmary, tomorrow at noon.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Digging into the tofu, Titus keeps swaying to the music. Tail wagging, eyes shut, and completely oblivious. Tapping on his shoulder nearly forces him to drop his plate. Hackles raised, the fuzzy ball spins around to see a friendly, scaly muzzle. “Monroe! Nice to see you here... Did you have to scare me though?” Laughing awkwardly, the timber wolf gives a weightless punch to Monroe’s abdomen. “Glad you could make it!” Sipping cold water from one of the plastic cups, the larger lizard winks. “Didn’t dream of missing it... Although, I’ll be missing work tomorrow.” “Really? Plan to call out for a well-deserved break?” Shaking his head, the reptile’s chest bounces as he gives a dry laugh. “No, I wish. Medical examination.” “Ooooooh.” Eyes widening, the wolf’s head tilts. Maw opening and closing repeatedly, Titus hums for a moment. “If... you don’t mind me asking, is it anything severe?” Shaking his head, the reptile’s chest bounces as he gives another dry laugh. “Not at all. Regular shots, health checkup, and the usual stuff.” “Hmmmmm.... You’re not hiding anything, right? Have you not slept enough? Going to be hard to keep your mind healthy without keeping your body healthy too!” Nodding, the reptile’s body shakes as he gives a hearty laugh. “Guess you got me. I’ll be sure to sleep early tonight then.” Ruffling the fur atop Titus’ head, he finishes his glass of water. “Not going to eat anything?” Eyes shut tight; Titus presses his head into Monroe’s palm. Scratching behind the ears, Monroe’s heart melts seeing Titus’ glee. “Nah. Not really able to eat tonight, it seems.” “Suit yourself. Just take care of yourself. I care about you too, partner!” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sterile, white tiles from floor to ceiling. Pungent chemicals of medicinal use lining the shelves. Cool air swirling around from the open vents on the floor. Top deck. Sick bay. Experiment site. Echoing footsteps from the enormous lizardman pacing the room are interrupted by the hiss of a door opening. Heavy, slow, plodding footsteps. Soft clinking of scales. Heavy, bovine breathing. Additionally, the frenzied flapping of wings. Instruments, delicate and sensitive, poorly held in the grip of the cockatiel. Papers shuffling and folding in the hooves of the ox. An eager, greedy gleam in the eyes of the crocodile. Gazing at his prey. “Good morning, Dr. Lehner! Pleased to see you here. Seeing as your preliminary tests show you’re in good health, we’ll be proceeding to the injection at once.” Stopping two meters from the buff reptile, the crocodile passes his papers to the ox. “Obviously, if anything were to happen, which is extremely unlikely, there must be no communication of these results to the outside world. Research such as ours has the potential to--” Waving one paw in front of his boss, Monroe gives an appreciative smile. “I understood the NDA. Don’t worry. How long will I have to remain for monitoring?” “Until either your brain exhibits development as predicted, nothing happens for a week, or any adverse neurological or psychological conditions are detected.” Nodding to the ox, he gives a loud clearing of the throat. “Yes. At minimum, one week will be required. With you stationed here, it will also allow for immediate reporting and surveillance. You’ll be taken care of, though we’re hoping for only the best.” Nodding, Monroe stands still as the cockatiel grumbles softly, hopping all around his test subject. Without hair, the electrodes easily stuck to the collared lizard’s scalp. “The sooner the better”, Monroe whispers. Holding still, the shine of the needle reflects brightly from the lights in the ceiling. One that got closer, pushing into his neck. Gulping loudly, Monroe’s eyes shut. Sharp, painful pinch. Thick, violet fluid pumps ounce by ounce from the syringe into his bloodstream. Gritting his teeth, Monroe exhales slowly. Pressure in his head mounts... until the pinch suddenly ceases. Opening his eyes with a gasp, the reptile rubs his eyes as a bandage is applied to the injection site. Brighter. Louder. Heavier. Exhaling quickly and loudly, Monroe slowly lowers himself to kneeling on the floor. Pressure in his head persists. “Let us know how things turn out. Feel free to write down anything you experience. Don’t take the electrodes off!” Distantly, the sounds of footsteps get softer. Hazy images in Monroe’s eyes grow smaller. One fat crocodile, and one tall ox. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hours of silence. Loud tapping of keys A cockatiel stands over a desk, monitoring the monitors. Faint humming from the lights above. All with a dull headache behind Monroe’s eyes. Chairbound, head covered in electrodes, and bored, the collared lizard tilts his head right. “N-Nothing wrong? Everything g-good Mr. Lehner?” All the usual check-in questions. Scratching sounds scratching at the ears as the scientist records every word. Upon the wall, a small analog clock. Gears turning, arms moving with a slight ticking sound, and an uncomfortable reminder that it’s nearly seven in the evening. Sighing, the reptile closes his eyes and straightens his neck... “H-Huh!? What e-even!?” Opening his eyes, the reptile’s gaze fixes on the cockatiel. Beak dropping and feathers ruffling, the avian researcher pries his eyes away from the monitor to look at Monroe. Standing suddenly, the cockatiel knocks his chair back. Before it hits the floor, he’s already racing out of the room. “Stay right t-there! I’ve got to s-show the boss!” ... ... ... [b]Thud.[/b] Echoing dully around the room, the sound of the chair losing the battle against gravity rings. Echoing in the reptile’s head, a dull drum beating from the inside and wanting out. Clutching at his head, Monroe grunts. Beat after beat wracks his head, a dark violet shine behind his closed eyelids pulses in time with his heart. [b]Thud.[/b] Cracking open one eyelid, Monroe watches the chair slowly clattering again. Upright. Leaning forward a tad, he squints at the magically righted chair. Concentrating, the lizard grunts a bit in confusion. Surrounding the chair is a gossamer shell of pink light, twinkling out of existence. Stars slowly sparkling into darkness as a wave of exhaustion hits the collared lizard... “Well, well, well! I’ve heard that some results have been found. Knew it would turn out alright, Mr. Lehner!” Footsteps. Turning his head, Monroe watches as a familiar round gator accompanied by a tall ox walk into the room. Shortly behind, the cockatiel trots in with a large clipboard. Nodding, the ox gives a slight grin. “Good to see you’re not in rough shape, at least. Headache, I’m guessing?” “Yes, indeed. Dull one, but it’s been lasting a bit.” Every word spoken is accompanied by a soft scratching sound. Notes the cockatiel scribbles behind the clipboard. “Anything else, Mr. Lehner?” Cocking his head, the ox pulls at this tie. “Feel anything else?” “Bit of tiredness came on a second ago. Nothing else that I noticed with me.” Huffing, the ox shrugs. Taking the clipboard from the cockatiel, the crocodile waves it slightly. “Seems as though the EEG found quite a lot of building electrical activity inside your head over the past couple of hours. You’ll be needed for further testing tomorrow, but until then you may return to your personal quarters.” Turning abruptly, the crocodile’s suit complains loudly. Tossing the research notes back to the cockatiel, he begins to stomp off with the ox in tow. “S-Sounds like someone is impatient. S-Sorry about that M-Mr. Lehner!” Chuckling softly, the cockatiel goes to gently pluck the electrodes off the yellow scales of Monroe’s scalp. “Not your fault. Don’t worry about it!” Keeping his voice cheery, Monroe feels a wave of exhaustion. Slumping over, the dull beat in his head is joined by purple glow at the corners of his vision. ... ... ... Quiet. No sound. Not even breathing. The cockatiel stops pulling off electrodes for a second... “Understood. I will not worry.” Returning to remove the various stickers on Monroe’s head, he steps back. With all electrodes being removed, the scientist steps back. Giving a bow to Monroe, the avian stares blankly. A faint, purple glow in his irises. ... ... ... “Is everything gooooood?” Cocking his head, Monroe’s tiredness advances to vertigo. Spinning, he clutches at the speckled yellow scales on his head. “Probably been sitting here too long. Might need to get up and get some stimulation.” “I feel perfectly fine. Allow me to provide some stimulation.” Without warning, the cockatiel bends down, nuzzling at the sizable package contained in Monroe’s khaki pants. The glow of the avian’s eyes gets brighter by the second. Nudging with the side of his beak, his claws gently scratching the fabric, and not a thought in his head. Wisps of purple energy spark and fly from the corners of his eyes. Each bunt, each caress, sends a soothing shiver up Monroe’s spine. Even as the edges of his vision swirl with trace amounts of purple fog, his head clears. Dull throbbing slows down. All spinning in the room ceases. Awareness, alertness, and awake. Leaning back, the throbbing moves downstairs. Blood rushes to his other head, leaving the one up top all the happier. “Isn’t this... a bit forward, sir?” Reaching down, Monroe gives a gentle tap to the avian’s head. What were eyes cloaked in a violet haze become wide, hazelnut eyes. Keeping one arm out, Monroe’s bicep flexes as he lifts the bird up to stand. Beak opening and shutting, feathers ruffling, and legs shaking. Backing up slowly, the scientist coughs a bit. “I... I-I'm s-sorry, Mr. Lehner! I’m not... I have no idea what... P-Please forgive--” “You’re fine! It’s all fine. Something come over you?” Slowly standing up, the chair squeaks loudly on the tile floor. Stepping over with renewed vigor, Monroe gives his observer a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. Nodding, the bird continues to hyperventilate. The yellow feathers atop his head bounce rapidly up and down. “Y-Yes!” Squeaking, his wheezy breathing eventually slows down enough to add, “Felt like s-something was in my h-head! I couldn’t s-stop!” Arms raising to clutch his head, the cockatiel’s legs fail. Slumping into Monroe’s abs and abdomen. “Heeeeey now. Relax. It’s all fine. Been a boring day of work and we’re probably just both tired.” Using both arms now, Monroe keeps the cockatiel balanced. “Go do something fun. Rest. Eat. You’ll feel better in no time.” Nodding, the red feathers of the cockatiel’s cheeks doubtlessly would be even redder underneath. “Y-Yeah! Of course... That’s probably it. I’ll head d-down now. See you t-tomorrow Mr. Lehner!” Rushing away, the avian’s lab coat nearly falls off. Loud steps echo into the room from the hall. Shrugging, the reptile walks out. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sterile, white halls. White lights and blue accents to each square, ceramic tile among the sea of gray, metal doors. Natter about the daily grind, odd thoughts, and some... less professional conversations and calls faintly bounce between the vents, around the cracks of partially open doors, and out in the halls. Orcas, hyenas, dragons, tigers, bears, and more. Different sizes, careers, creeds, and goals. All gathered together in the lowest level of the facility. Sounds, smells, sights, and spinning. One paw on the wall, Monroe slowly stumbles his way along. Waves, pleasantries, and a stoic face to hide the dizziness. “Monroe! You doing alright there?” A familiar, squeaky, excited voice. Bristly, brown fur. Glinting light from the lenses of the wide, round glasses. Shiny, sharp teeth exposed by a large smile. One growing ever larger as the wolf races closer. Panting, the canine’s eyes light up in delight. “Where were you?” Looking up, he gives a faux punch to Monroe’s chest. Wincing at the loud thud, Titus gives a nervous laugh. Clutching and shaking the hand he punched with, he takes a step back. “Aaaah... Thought you said it would be something routine.” “Sorry about that. Had a lot they wanted to check.” Reaching over, Monroe gently pats the fluff atop his coworker. “Hope your work today went well.” Wagging quickly, the wolf leans into the petting. Grumbling and growling contently for a second before blinking and clearing his throat. “Oh! It was terribly boring. Ungodly boring!” Reaching up, Titus gives a firm squeeze to Monroe’s hand. “Tell me you’re fit to work tomorrow. It’s painful without someone around.” “Well...” Shaking his head, Monroe lets loose a low sigh. “I’m ’fraid not, sadly.” Pulling his hand back, the collared lizard leans against the shiny, cool metal of the wall. “Going to be in testing for a while.” Cocking his head, Titus jubilant expression is replaced by concern. “More? Is there something wrong?” “Mostly just examination. I was picked to test that soldier serum we’ve developed here.” Sharp wheezing follows as Titus nearly doubles over. Eyes wide, he stares up to Monroe. “Really? You agreed to test it?” “Yeah. Nothing too bad. Mostly just been tired.” “Tired? That’s all?” “Pretty much. Seems like a lot of us are. The cockatiel watching me seemed dazed by the end of his shift there.” Rubbing the back of his head, Titus chuckles. Looking away at nothing in particular. “Yeah... It was a bit of a party yesterday.” “Better make sure you get some rest tonight! Care to walk and talk to my room before it hits midnight?” Strutting off with a spring in his step, Titus takes ten steps back before beckoning to Monroe. “We’d better get moving eventually then! Come on!” Echoing through the halls Titus goes. Stomping loudly and pausing to let Monroe catch up. Coiling around the habitation level, traveling down the slight decline, and sliding out an I.D. to press against the door with the numbers 88 painted onto it. Opening to reveal a neat, tidy bedroom with a wardrobe, sink, desktop, and bathroom. Cramped, but sufficient to stay for a time. Time made even better as conversation carries the two further into the night. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gentle hum, bright lights, and the uncomfortable, sticky electrodes once again. All minor annoyances exacerbated by a persistent sound. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Clicking joins the percussion of frustration as the cockatiel continues to mess with his pen. Click. Click. Click. Click. Silently, Monroe taps a song onto the chair he rests in. Amusement is hard to come by in the laboratory... “U-Um... Hey, M-Monroe?” Tilting his head, the lizard’s eyes watch the cockatiel slowly stand up. Arms close to his sides, head cast downward, and tense as can be. Holding his breath, the avian groans softly as he stops in front of his subject. “...I wanted t-to...” “Apologize for last night again?” Lifting one digit, Monroe presses it to the side of his head. Purple tinges the corners of his vision. Grunting, the cockatiel holds his head in one paw. “Reading my m-mind exactly. Yeah, I feel t-terrible about my untoward advances. Seriously, I don’t k-know why I did that!” Hyperventilating begins. First arms begin to shake, then his whole body. Curling in on himself, his eyes begin to grow wider. “Relaaaaax. It’s all gooooood.” Purple flashes through Monroe’s eyes. Rubbing his head some more, his eyelids flutter. Heaviness piles onto the lizard’s mind and body. Letting loose a quick yawn, his vision becomes blurry for a second. “Understood. I will not feel bad then.” Rubbing his eyes, Monroe lets out a confused grunt... which becomes a confused groan partway through. Focusing, his eyes lock onto the bird. Bobbing his head up and down around the reptile’s bulge once again. Eyes aglow with a deep, dark purple. Shaking his head clears all grime and gunk clogging his thoughts. Sharpens them, even! Monroe’s bewilderment shifts, becoming more contentedness as his loins begin to stir. Lightning strikes the lizard’s head as an alien voice speaks in his head... [i]“Don’t worry. It’s all good. Don’t worry. It’s all good. Perform good task. Perform good task.”[/i] Gasping, Monroe stares at the cockatiel... Or the wrinkly, purple outline in the cockatiel’s head. Electricity jumps and arcs inside, growing ever more peaceful as the words ring out. Visible violet soundwaves coming from the folded mass in the cockatiel’s head and entering Monroe’s. “Are these your thoughts?” “Yes.” Jaw slowly dropping, Monroe watches as the cockatiel continues to bury himself in his groin. Watching fervently as all the worry and will in his researcher’s head slowly ceases. A blank, empty, brain free from any personal thoughts or concerns... “What... the... FUCK!? What do you two think you’re up to!?” Swiftly, Monroe’s head rises to see a rotund, scaly figure. Behind him, a tall, hairy ox. One, an inflamed crocodilian clad in black. The other, a flabbergasted bovine in a t-shirt and jeans. Huffing, puffing, and fuming, the crocodile starts stomping over. Eyes radiating something dark and viscous the entire time. Palms out, arms up, and waving rapidly. Watching his boss stomp ever closer, Monroe’s eyes begin to fill with purple. Lightning shoots through Monroe’s mind. Time slows down. Rumbling thunder from the center of his head echoes in his ears. Bolts brought down onto the crocodilian lightning rod nearing him. Striking with just a few words... “Can you wait just a second?” Zapped. Shocked, the gator’s maw opens wide, his chest quakes with a deep breath... then his eyes glow purple. One big, scaly balloon full of hot air deflates almost instantly. Nearly going entirely limp. There’s a low rumble in the crocodile’s throat. One word follows, “...Waiting.” “Huh...” Mimicking his superior, Monroe’s jaw starts to drop. “It... might be an effect from the serum...” Stomping over, the ox waves a hand in front of the crocodile’s face. “Hey, Fredrick!?” Grabbing his shoulder, the bulky bovine begins to lightly shake the gator. “Fredrick!?” Twisting his torso, he stares with a mixture of confusion and wonder at Monroe. “How even?” “Hey. Relaaaax. It’s... all fine.” Another bolt meets grounding. As the bumps and valleys in the gator’s head take on a familiar color, so too does the ox’s. As another bolt of lightning hits the grounding in a new head, Monroe grunts. “I... promise that this is harmless.” Nothing but silence from the ox... and increasingly purple eyes. Peaks and troughs become visible in the ox’s head. Showing less activity by the second. Grunting, Monroe stands up from his seat, plucking the electrodes off his speckled scalp. Vertigo threatens to topple the tall lizard. Before being swept off his thick thighs, the cockatiel moans gently as he nuzzles into Monroe’s groin. “Harmless... That’s fine then.” “Yeah.” Breathing heavily, Monroe’s gait becomes uneven as he carefully inches closer to the intruding duo. “Are YOU fine? Both of you?” Nodding in unison, ox and gator groan in monotone, “All fine.” Knees bending slightly, Monroe’s growing enervation washes over his mind. Warmth flushes over him as his eyes mutiny. Threatening to close on him, Monroe’s thoughts slow down... Until his nerves get a kickstart. Utilizing both wings, the cockatiel continues to rub and stimulate the lizard’s genitals. Already put well under, the bird carries out his perceived job. Both balls being gently bounced, and the shaft rubbed with a preternatural reverence. Pleasing, soothing sensations placating the odd violet vice in his head. “Interesting...” Looking to the trio of subjects before him, Monroe’s mind speeds up. Accelerating out from molasses, thoughts crystallize and combine. Realizations come together. Straightening up, Monroe’s eyes glow vividly. With a flick of his wrist, all three of his subjects begin to float a few centimeters off the ground. One by one, they begin to slowly line up. One after another, they’re directed and carried off to their new jobs. In their new home. Cockatiel first, he nods happily as Monroe begins to pull down his pants. Glowing, purple eyes fixated on the equipment being unveiled before him. Front row floating seat to two baseball sized nuts and an erect rod. Levitating ever closer as Monroe pulls back the foreskin, the bright, beckoning, pink head... along with a dark hole growing ever bigger. Behind, the ox blankly gazes at the scene before him. Monroe grunting loudly while his back arcs. His cockatiel scientist carefully fitting one foot, both, and then sinking down into the lizard’s dick. Squirming, wiggling, and compressing down onto the glans. Watching the shaft bulging out as the worm gets the bird, swallowing it bit by bit. Pressure on a different head. Lower down. Monroe’s head clears any shackling sleepiness. Jolting fully awake as his feathery friend sinks slowly past his vas deferens. Watching the bird’s head finally enter himself. Purple eyes, empty head, and a happy expression on his face as the red checks and yellow feathers disappear from sight. Furthest back, the crocodile’s mindless expression fails to break as a moan fills the room. Internally, something shakes in his head. Waves of energy slamming into him, dulling him. Motion appears in his peripheral vision. Monroe’s legs slowly spreading further apart. Pushed apart, as two round, growing orbs make space for themselves. “There you go, little bird. Enjoy yourself in there.” Next up, the ox. Putting his hands behind his head, Monroe’s face fills with confidence. His growing dick now a comparable size to his horse colleagues’ more than a lizard’s now. One hoof in front of the other, Monroe smiles as he feels an energizing sensation as the ox starts to sink to his urethra. Placing one digit atop the bovine’s head, Monroe begins to carefully push his prey down. Centimeter by centimeter, fitting the beefy occupant of his dick down to his balls. Going over each ab, pushing his pecs in, and soon tapping the bovine’s crown as he is gradually drawn into the damp tunnel. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock... Only the sound of a clock, lights, and some prey thrashing in his balls fill the room. Humming to himself, Monroe walks over to the crocodile. Hovering a couple centimeters off the ground, eyes glowing purple, none of the mass behind them active or alert, and very content with all of it. Stopping in front of the gator, he leans in next to the ear of his “boss.” “Before I show you your new job and put some of that size where it’ll be put to better use... I’ve got one more task for you.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “This is Director Scaleback speaking.” Electronic whining echoes painfully through the communications system. Floating in front of the mic, a crocodile. Sitting in the director’s chair, a collared lizard. Both moving their maws at the exact same time. “All staff will need to come in for emergency discussions at some point in time. With the project finished, some important papers for everyone will need to be discussed and assigned.” Precognition isn’t needed to know what comes next. Muzzles slamming into desks, audible groans in the halls, sighs aplenty, and more than one shaking head. Frustration and disdain everywhere as the system rings painfully once more. “You shall all receive emails soon about meeting times. I apologize in advance for any inconvenience.” Sitting alone in the lunchroom, Titus sighs. Fork limply hanging from his paw as he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. Pulling the shiny gadget free from his pants, a text hovers on the cloudy background. New email... Eyelids half shut, the wolf shakes his head and clutches the phone tight. Dropping the fork into the casserole, the phone unlocks as Titus stares at it. Email from... Director Scaleback. Reading the title, Titus’ gorge rise. “Please... please... please let it be good news!” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Elevators, escalators, and enervation. Walking around and around to the top floors of the facility. Plain gray and neon blue is accented with golden lights and green plants along the walls. Paintings of the Big Dipper, Taurus, and Venus are along the walls. Ornate, decorated doors with names craved into brass become commonplace. Treasurer’s office, head of communications, lead biologist, public relations... On and on Titus walks until stopping outside one door with scales on the brass. Engraved with an odd flourish, the swirling lines spelling, “Director Scaleback”. Sighing, Titus inhales deeply, holding his breath and shutting his eyes as he knocks on the door. “...Come in, Titus!” Casting his eyes downward, Titus takes hold of one of the shiny, cold doorhandles and opens the door silently. Shutting it gently behind himself, he turns around, straightens his back, and opens his eyes. Eyes that steadily get wider. Accidentally walking back into the door, the rattling sound makes the wolf yelp. Scaleback’s face takes on a quizzical expression. “What’s the matter, Titus? Relax. It’s just any ordinary meeting we’d normally have.” “Heya, Titus.” Arms on the armrests, a friendly smile, and enormous, thrashing balls and dick. Muscles swelling with strength, his blue and yellow scales seeming more vibrant than ever, and Scaleback’s head poking out of his cock. Both reptiles bearing a purple glow in their eyes. Lifting one arm up, Monroe taps the director’s scalp. “You can head back down to your new office, Scaleback. I’ll be able to talk with Titus about everything now.” Nodding, Scaleback smiles. “Ah. Good man, Mr. Lehner! Thank you.” Tilting his head up, his large body begins to sink down to Monroe’s hips. Gradually, his snout disappears into the urethra. Gradually, Monroe’s large, shaking balls begin to grow larger. Dropping down to his shins while they grow wide enough to obscure his knees. “Don’t worry, Titus. I don’t bite.” With a wave of his arm, Monroe flicks his wrist, tilting his hand toward himself. Purple envelops Titus. Paws detaching from the floor, the whimpering wolf levitates into a chair positioned opposite Monroe. Eyes glued to the extremely large genitals before him, Titus lets out a strained breath. “I’m not reading your mind or controlling you.” Looking up, the wolf’s tail flicks around anxiously. Monroe rests in his seat as though nothing has happened. “What happened to you?” “Experiments. That serum we developed seems to be a greater success than we imagined. Though, it has left some side effects.” Nonchalantly smiling, the reptile points to his head. Wisps of violet energy spiral from the corners of his eyes. “Turns out, it takes a lot of energy to use psychic prowess. Energy I get back by physical stimulation.” Watching the reptile’s dick throb and his balls bounce once again, Titus breathing returns to normal. Leaning forward, Titus’ eyes wander all over his coworker. “Stimulation I’d love for you to provide too.” Tilting his head, the wolf’s ears flick. “You want me?” Pointing to himself, the wolf’s voice cracks. “Yes.” Pushing on his shaft, Monroe carefully lines up his glans with Titus’ head. Nearly whacking him with the foreskin in the process! Letting out an aroused grunt, the lizard’s hand gently wanders up and down the shaft. “Wanted to be respectful instead of just forcing you down.” Audibly gulping, Titus chuckles faintly. Shaky digits rub over Monroe’s foreskin. “Perpetual motion device balls, multi-species cogs, and an enhanced lizard brain to power. Interesting project you’re proposing, I must admit.” “I’ll take that as a yes then~” Watching Titus’ irises flash from gold to violet, Monroe feels a familiar spark hit the wolf’s head. Fur standing on end, the static runs through him. Blob of id, ego, and superego in the canine’s head radiating a blunted light for the lizard to see. Rotating his hand in a circular motion, Monroe watches Titus levitate upward. Hands behind his head, reclining in his new, pleather seat he feels his cock throb in anticipation. Balls feeling lighter than they should, eager for more. Eyes aglow, Monroe feels his three current occupants rubbing, rutting, and releasing inside of him. Sustaining his focus as he carefully lowers his partner into his new home. Grunting, Monroe smiles as he feels his glans and urethra stretch to accommodate the wolf’s paws and legs. Blood pumps through him, his heartbeat vibrating in his ears, as stiff becomes rigid. Hard as stone, yet soft enough to allow the wolf’s hips to pass. Titus’ face melts into a mess of hypnotized joy, brainwashed enthusiasm, and implanted sexual gratification. While not bulging and stimulating his dick to the degree Scaleback provided, the derpy expression of his prey becomes satisfying in itself. Outlines of Titus’ figure appear through Monroe’s manhood. Distinct, attempted tail wags keep appearing on the underside of the dick. Shapes form into the wolf’s arms and legs, encased in the veins and blue skin of Monroe. Involuntarily rising of its own accord, the heavy, growing phallus brings Titus’ snout centimeters away from the reptile’s. Wet, warm, and welcoming. Drowning in the purple haze in his eyes, his mind swimming from the purple pill shot into it, and completely smoothed over mentally. Slowly devoured by his friend’s dick without a care in the world. Arms pinned to his sides as his torso slips down. Legs already working into Monroe’s hips and around the prostate. Deeper the wolf goes, his collarbone eventually swallowed by the lizard’s dick. Only his head remains in the open air. Only his rapid, vapid panting, the iconic canine’s moronic smile, and the energetic, violet purple eyes. “Glad to welcome you to your new position, Titus.” One hand comes out from behind the reptile’s head. Blue paws and yellow digits rest on the scalp of the friendly, furry ball-tender. Pushing down, Monroe feels the tugging, pulling, of his loins. Ready to welcome another occupant. Seeing the wolf’s mind smooth over like all the rest, Monroe opts to give his groin what it wants. Centimeter by centimeter, all the energy Titus spent thinking, moving, talking, eating, working... put to better use. Ears, scalp, and then eyes vanish into Monroe’s meat. “Don’t worry.” One last push with his fingers. One last pull from his hips. Titus’ muzzle slides into him. Grunting, the reptile feels his balls roiling as they expand. Feels the desire for release growing as his rod enlarges. Eyes squeezing shut, Monroe begins to breathe heavily, the impulses of his body threatening to overwhelm him... As his groin gradually settles down. Soon enough, an internal splash is felt as Titus arrives at his new workstation. “Don’t... worry. You four down. 196 more to go!”