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“Hurry up, sir,” said Nathalie over the intercom. “The mayor’s here, and I can’t stall him much longer. He’s threatening to leave.”
Shadow Moth swore. Paris was a roiling hotbed of negative emotions today, and he wanted to savor it. Damn André and his meetings! He’d been an utter pest since they were at university together, and acquiring some measure of political clout had only served to inflate a tediously oversized ego.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to focus. No matter. He’d akumatize one of his repeat customers, get the meeting over with, and use the residual negative emotion from the battle to hone a stronger villain. Shadow Moth allowed himself a smirk. This was child’s play.
Scanning the web of emotion produced no easy targets, however. Even Xavier Ramier, a perennial favorite of his, was blissfully calm. Shadow Moth focused, searching for a perfect spike of rage. There.
“Women on apps leading men on? That’s not how it’s done! Back in my day, when two people wanted each other, they simply waited until they were alone together, then did something about it! What’s this world coming to?”
Shadow Moth breathed a sigh of relief. Rolland Dupain. Talk about a straightforward target. He loosed an akuma and waited. “Simpleman. I’m giving you the power to simplify your world as you see fit. In return, all I ask for are Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous.”
“Thank you, Shadow Moth. Soon everyone in the world will make sense!” Simpleman declared.
In the elevator, Gabriel straightened his shirt cuffs and made sure his hair was immaculate. University was a long time ago, but it was important to make sure André never forgot which one of them had made better use of his talents. “Have him wait outside my atelier, Nathalie,” he said over the intercom. “I’ll be ready shortly.”
A strange ripple passed through the world as Gabriel rearranged the papers on his desk, but it didn’t register. He was too busy thinking through his plans for the new environmental initiative. André would rubber stamp them, if he knew what was good for him.
A sharp rap at the doorframe jarred Gabriel out of his thoughts. “Impatient bastard,” he muttered. Aloud, he called, “Come in!”
André bustled in, looking vaguely harried. It was at least partially an act, Gabriel knew. André had always been desperate for people to acknowledge how busy he was. As a consequence, he hoarded busyness like other people hoarded happiness or meaning.
“There’s some kind of akuma out there,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “Can’t stay long. They always expect me to say something after an attack. Not sure why.” He coughed. “Don’t get zapped, chums. Terribly sorry for the inconvenience. This is why I have a speechwriter.”
He looked at Gabriel expectantly, waiting for acknowledgement of the joke, but Gabriel was in no such mood. Gabriel felt very strange, in fact. All of a sudden, he couldn’t stop reminiscing about the charity drag show he’d attended in his second year of university. André on stage, prancing about in fishnets and lipstick. Gabriel had designed that dress, along with half the others in the lineup. Yet it was André who stole the show, André who drove him mad in bed later that evening, before both of them had decided that chilly distance was better for their careers.
Gabriel glanced down at his papers in search of a distraction, but they didn’t seem to be in French or any language he knew. He recognized the letters, but couldn’t parse them into words. Oh well.
André was fanning himself. “You certainly keep it warm in here. Mind if I shed a layer?”
“Go ahead,” said Gabriel, already unbuttoning his suit jacket. “I think I’ll join you.”
It took Andre a few moments to relieve himself of his jacket and sash. While he struggled, Gabriel took the opportunity to surreptitiously unbutton his pants, which had grown far too tight at the crotch. He unzipped his fly for good measure. He couldn’t think why it was so hot. He’d have to have a word with Nathalie about it after the meeting.
“To business,” said André at last. “We need a new marketing strategy to get Paris excited about the new environmental initiative. Something simple this time, I think.”
“Simple,” Gabriel repeated. His planned proposal was anything but. It felt foolish now, not to mention far too complicated. “Hmm. What if we put a recycling bin on the posters, maybe with a big smiley face on it?”
“Perfect!” André cheered, bouncing in his seat. “I’ll have the posters enter production at once!” The sound of fabric ripping punctuated his words. “Drat,” said André, looking down at his split pants. “These were brand new.”
“That’s why you can’t buy off the rack,” Gabriel told him. He wiggled in his seat, shimmying out of his own trousers under the desk. They were Egyptian linen after all, and it would be a terrible shame for them to tear. It seemed that he was removing them just in time. His thighs and ass jiggled far more than they normally would, and they were still growing.
Somewhere in the distant reaches of Gabriel’s mind, something about this registered as strange. The thought drifted through his brain, but it didn’t find anything else to connect to.
André was frowning. “I wish I had something better to wear. This outfit is too small, and it’s itchy.” He started unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke, but it was too little, too late. Buttons popped and more fabric tore as André’s chest puffed out, his already-generous pecs reforming into proper tits.
Gabriel pulled his own shirt over his head, feeling smug to have avoided André’s fate. His tits, when they bounced into place, were somewhat smaller than André’s but intensely sensitive. Gabriel found that playing with one of his puffy nipples was enough to banish the dregs of the silly, nervous thoughts he couldn’t quite remember. Playing with both of them was even better. He offered André a broad, empty-eyed smile.
“I’m sure we can find you something. What kind of host would I be if I didn’t clothe my guests?”
The world rippled again, making Gabriel’s cock throb and leak in his stretched, straining underpants. He giggled.
A chest of outfits had appeared next to Gabriel’s desk. It had always been there, of course. Guests were always making sticky messes in their clothes at the sight of Gabriel’s massive tits and perpetually drooling cock, which was just large enough to nestle in his cleavage while he worked. Gabriel had gotten into the habit of collecting their soiled clothing and having it cleaned so he could offer it to future guests. By now, his collection was impressively large. He and André sorted through the chest, giggling.
“What about this?” André asked at last, striking a pose. He wore a rubbery pink halter top that just barely contained his tits, letting tantalizing glimpses of areola peek out on the sides. The matching skirt did not quite cover his swollen balls and still-growing ass, especially with his cock tenting the front.
Gabriel frowned, letting his inner fashion designer take over. “It’s a start, but you need to accessorize. Where’s your purse?”
André hadn’t come in with a purse, but it was right where it had always been, on top of the pile of his discarded clothing. Gabriel rummaged inside, retrieving a long, thick string of anal beads.
“Damn. These are, like, really ambitious.”
André giggled, biting his lip. “I’ve been waiting for the right person to help me try them out.”
Gabriel batted his eyelashes. “How can I say no? But let me change first. I don’t know what I was thinking this morning. This outfit is, like, super drab. Who would fuck me in this?”
“I would,” André said immediately.
Gabriel blushed. “You deserve better, though!”
Drab outfit or no, he made a show of stripping for André, tits and ass bouncing. Then he made his own selections from the chest. First came a pair of cute, sparkly nipple clamps, attached to a collar with a pair of silver chains. He added a pair of matching silver hoop earrings to complete the top half of his look and turned his attention to skirts.
“I’d normally wear fishnets with this,” said Gabriel, holding up a pleated leather microskirt, “but you’re, like, totally pounding my hole once we’re done with the beads, okay? I don’t want anything getting in the way.”
André nodded solemnly. He’d put his mayoral sash back on over his tiny rubber outfit. Since it had always been a sparkly gold color, it matched perfectly. “Where do you want me?”
Gabriel gestured to his conversation pit, which he and Nathalie had outfitted with a variety of top-of-the-line sex furniture. “Anywhere works. Just put down a towel first.”
André did as he was told, rolling his eyes. “I won’t leak on the furniture.” He bent over a padded bench, spreading his cheeks for Gabriel.
“What-ev-er. You always leak.” Gabriel uncapped a bottle of lube and got to work prepping André’s hole.
Sure enough, André started leaking as soon as the first finger in his ass brushed his prostate. “I don’t always leak,” he whimpered, grinding against the bench. “Just when it’s good. S’not my fault you’re, like, an anal expert.”
Gabriel felt his cheeks heat up at the praise. “Hold still,” he said. “Save the cum for my hole.”
André whined. “Can’t wait. Put them in.”
Gabriel eased the smallest bead past André’s rim, relishing the noises he made. Working quickly and methodically, he added five more. The sizes gradually increased from shooter marble to golf ball to the seventh, which was closer to a softball. Gabriel smeared it with lube, taking his time. “How does it feel?” he asked, working the sixth ball in and out of André’s hole for the pleasure of watching him squirm.
André’s swollen balls churned. His cock spasmed against the padded bench, shooting gouts of precum into the towel. “They’re so deep.”
Gabriel grinned, imagining how the beads would press against André’s insides while he fucked him. “Ready for the last one?”
A whimper. “I’ll try.”
When the softball-sized bead popped past his rim, André screamed. Gabriel admired the way his puffy, reddened hole trembled around the dangling string. “There,” he said, straightening up. “Ready for your reward?”
The third and final ripple passed through the world as André fucked Gabriel against his desk. It left their minds just a little lighter, their wobbling chests just a bit more sensitive, and their lives forever altered. Gabriel remembered bouncing on André’s cock at Paris Fashion Week, where he was still one of the most respected designers in the world. He remembered warming it as André gave his inaugural speech as mayor of Paris. They were best friends, after all, and how could they be expected to focus on anything if they weren’t using each other’s bodies for pleasure?
André moaned, warming Gabriel from within with his cum. When he pulled out, he was ready with an extra-large butt plug to make sure it all stayed inside.
Gabriel clenched his hole happily as he returned to his seat behind the desk. “So is our agenda, like, in order?” he asked.
“Totally,” André beamed. His cock dribbled excess cum onto the floor. “Paris is about to be, like, so environmental!”