Late Shift

The fluorescent lights softly buzzed overhead as Dylan drummed his fingers on the counter and surveyed the empty convenience store. It was 2 in the morning, about an hour away from closing time. In only a few hours, he could get to sleep. Finally.

When he'd started working the late shift, he'd done so largely because (a) he was already a night owl and (b) the pay was a little better. That had been a mistake. It turned out that (a) he wasn't as much of a night owl when he was having to do manual labor (as opposed to chatting with his friends and playing video games) and (b) the extra pay was far outweighed by having to work under Alanna.

"Have you finished mopping the floor?" Alanna said behind him. He practically jumped right out of his skin. Speak of the Devil. "Uh, no, ma'am," he said. "You see-"

"I don't need to hear your excuses again," she said, glowering down at him. "Mop that floor."

"But the mop broke!" he cried. She frowned, and he led her over to where the mop lay, handle snapped clean off. "You see?" he said, gesturing at it.

"Go get the duct tape and put it back together the best you can," she replied. "That'll do for tonight, and we can replace the mop tomorrow." She walked off and he grudgingly obeyed, shuffling back over to the counter to get out the duct tape.

Just as he was about to step out from behind the counter, the front door whooshed open, and a man entered. He wore blue jeans and a faded green hoodie with the hood pulled up over his face. Dylan returned to the register, ready to help.

"Go fix the broom," Alanna told him. "I'll handle the customer." Dylan obeyed, carrying the roll of duct tape.

He picked up the two parts of the mop handle and fit them together as best he could, then began smothering the fracture in duct tape. Soon, there was a giant mass of duct tape over the break, and he carefully tested it against the floor. That would probably hold for the rest of the shift.

***

Alanna stood at the register and watched the lone customer browse. It wasn't that she didn't trust Dylan to handle a customer, it was that she trusted herself more. He wasn't a bad kid, but he was more than a little spoiled, in her opinion.

He'd just finished college, and was thinking about his career options, he said. And she did kind of resent him for having that chance, since she'd had to start working here immediately out of high school, about a decade ago.

But she'd been a hard worker, a persistent worker. Now she was the late shift supervisor, which was a supervisor job, even if it was the lowest management level of the gas station's little hierarchy. She was showing that she could work independently, and that might lead to a promotion very soon.

She reached back and ran her fingers through her short-cropped brown hair. The customer was browsing the candy aisle right now. Candy. Sweets. She wasn't exactly the sweetest person, she knew. It was hard to stay patient with other people, sometimes. She held herself to a pretty strict standard, and she couldn't expect everyone she met to be as rigid.

In fact, maybe she didn't need to be quite as strict with herself. Some of the time, at least. It wasn't wrong to have some fun. And she could be having all sorts of fun. She was still pretty young. She could be partying with hot guys and girls. She could be having fun sex with them. She could be enjoying life, instead of slaving away in this dumb gas station.

Alanna giggled, then sighed. It seemed like she was just missing so many chances to have a good life. A beautiful life. A life that was free of all the obligations and difficulties that weighed her down. A life that she could just enjoy.

If only she could just be carefree.

***

The more time Dylan spent mopping, the more his frustration mounted. This job was just a dead end. It was completely enervating, sapping the energy from his soul.

And then there was Alanna. Why was she in charge of him? If anything, he should be in charge of her. He was educated, he was gifted. He was entitled to run this place. He was entitled to run his own life.

As he squeezed out the mop, he growled quietly. He was a man. He deserved to run things. He deserved to be dominant. Not some weak nerd, some spineless, noodle-armed nobody. He ought to be the strong one!

With every sweep of the mop, he grunted, and as he grunted, he grew. His posture straightened, his height increased, his width widened. His muscles grew into massive, powerful machines. His pants strained as they attempted to contain his massive erection. His grunts grew deeper and deeper.

He pushed the mop again, and felt it hit something hard. Blinking, he realized that he'd mopped his way across the room, up to the drink fridges. "Whoa," he said, then jumped in surprise at how gravelly his voice was.

Looking to his left, he saw the customer, with his green hoodie still pulled up over his eyes, standing at one of the other fridges. The customer was ignoring Dylan, stroking his chin as he stared at the contents of the fridge in front of him. But Dylan still felt like the customer was watching, somehow. The customer drifted away, and Dylan looked down at his chest, where his tight uniform shirt outlined a huge pair of pecs.

***

Alanna didn't remember her clothes feeling this tight. But somehow, they were. Her boobs felt really bad, cooped up in a bra that was obviously too small for them. But she'd felt fine when she'd come in at the beginning of her shift. What was going on here?

Her eyes darted around the store. Good, no one was near. She ducked down, behind the counter, and reached under her shirt to undo the fasteners that held her bra together. After a bit of fumbling, she removed it and stuffed it under the counter.

That felt much better. How her boobies had gotten that big so quickly was a mystery that she didn't have the energy or time to solve right now. She needed to be a super-lady right now.

Smiling brightly, Alanna stood up and leaned against the counter. Hoodie Man was looking at maps, now. She frowned at his back. Was something going on here? It felt like she hadn't always felt so... floaty? But since Hoodie Man had come in, she'd felt kind of-

Hoodie Man turned around and Alanna found herself staring into... something. Her mind had gone so hazy that she could barely think, much less describe anything. For a brief second, she even forgot her own identity, becoming a blank slate in the void.

When Hoodie Man turned away, Alanna felt her mind begin to return. She'd been thinking about something - what had it been? Eh, it had probably been boring.

She looked at Hoodie Man's back and wondered what he looked like under the hoodie. Was he hot? When he went to the beach, did he show off glistening, hard abs and pecs?

As her thoughts ran wild, she absently slipped one hand under her pants and began fingering herself. A parade of hard-bodied hotties with huge cocks strode through her mind, and she imagined them doing all sorts of fun and naughty things with her and her sexy body.

With her mind buzzing, her hand fingering, and her eyes vacant, Alanna leaned forward over the counter, heedless of security cameras or other people. As she inserted a third finger into her pussy, she giggled happily, then squealed, as she orgasmed.

***

Dylan had basically given up on mopping after the fourth time he'd snapped the handle. The damn thing was more duct tape than handle at this point, and he was tired of trying to move it around. Particularly since he could be playing with his cock instead, which was much more interesting.

It was a lot longer, now, and it seemed to be perpetually hard. He was always on the verge of cumming, it seemed. All he needed to do was give his cock a few strokes, and cum would spurt out of it. It felt nice for a little while, but all too quickly, the nice feelings went away and his cock stiffened all the way back up. And then he jerked it again.

He hadn't always been this way, had he? It really did seem a little weird that he'd started jerking off in public at work, right? And for there to be a giant puddle of cum in front of his cock - well, that was unusual in more than one way, wasn't it? It didn't even smell like cum, for that matter. It smelled kind of like cinnamon, which was yet another weird thing.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dylan noticed the customer again, coming nearer, browsing in the tools section. The customer turned around, and Dylan felt like he was caught in the heart of a raging torrent of fire. Engulfed in a flood of power. Completely and utterly overpowered - and yet, he also felt empowered. He felt like the customer was handing him a whole new life. A life of sex and power.

And with the blink of an eye, it was gone. By the time Dylan had fully returned to his senses, the customer was moving towards the bathroom. Shaking his head, he looked around himself. He'd made a bit of a mess, but he wasn't going to clean it up. That was someone else's job! He had better things to be doing!

He heard a squeal from near the center of the store, and grinned. That was a better thing to be doing, if there ever had been one. He stepped over the puddle of cum and strode towards the sounds of orgasm.

***

Alanna was on her fourth orgasm when he appeared.

A tall, muscly man with a giant cock who was only barely recognizable as that skinny beanpole of an employee, Dylan. His stride was long and confident, and his cock drew her eyes instantly. The closer it got, the more Alanna followed it, the slower she fingered herself, the wider her mouth grew.

When Dylan stopped at the counter, Alanna looked down at his cock, unable to say or think anything. "Alanna?" he said, his voice much deeper and more authoritative, "look at my eyes." A voice like that just couldn't be disobeyed, and she looked up, only to be ensnared by his hard eyes. "You belong to me now, Alanna," he said. She nodded numbly. "You will obey me, do everything I want, and in return, I'll let you have cock." She nodded again, not even needing to think about it. Cock was so important to her. Particularly his cock.

"And now I'm going to go back there and fuck you the way I want," he said. "And you're going to let me." She nodded. He opened the gate and let himself in to the enclosure. "You're going to love my cock," he said. "You're going to love fucking it."

He was right, she realized, as he tore off her already-strained pants and panties and leaned her down against the counter. She loved his cock. And that meant that she loved him, didn't it? Because he had such a lovable cock, that meant that he was also lovable. She loved Dylan. And his cock.

Without any further warning, she felt his cock enter her tight, virgin ass, and she squealed in alarm. She hadn't expected that, but now that he was inside of her like that, it felt good. "Ohhhhh, woooooow!"she exclaimed, as he pumped in and out.

His huge cock really stretched her ass a lot, but she honestly couldn't get enough of it. It filled her in a way that nothing else ever had - or could. Next to this glorious monster, masturbation was nothing. No other cock could compete. Only Dylan could really fill her up like this.

"I'm going to cum in you," Dylan growled in her ear. Alanna barely heard him, consumed as she was by his fucking enormous cock. But she felt his cum as it sprayed into her ass, filling her up even more. She felt it, and she loved it. It made her so fucking hot. It made her cum to feel like she had been filled so full of his jizz that it should be spurting out of her nostrils.

When Dylan pulled out, Alanna felt disappointed. She felt hollow. Even though she knew that he would return to fucking her very soon, she felt lost. She wanted his cock inside of her at all times.

She looked back and saw Dylan wiping his cock dry with paper towels. He saw her looking and grinned. "You're a good fuck," he said, and Alanna's heart leapt. He liked her! He liked fucking her!

"You know, I think 'Alanna' is too big of a name for you," Dylan mused, as he crumpled up the dirty paper towels and tossed them into the trash can that sat behind the counter. "You probably can't even pronounce it that well. And 'Alanna' sounds like a smart woman, not a dumb bimbo like you. I think your name should be 'Alli' from now on."

Alli blinked. He was right. That should be her name. She was a dumb bimbo, and Alli was the right name for a dumb bimbo like her. She smiled happily and nodded.

"And I think you should also call me Master," he added. "Because I am your Master now." She nodded again. That made sense, too. She was just a silly little bimbo, and all she wanted to do was fuck. She didn't want to have to think. This way, she could leave the thinking to her Master.

Master looked up and saw something that made him look startled. Alli turned to look, but he pushed her down to her knees. "That's not your concern," he told her. "Let me handle it. You can handle my cock."

Alli felt relieved. She didn't really know how to handle anything but sex anymore. Maybe she could clean stuff, but that was probably it. As she heard the door slide open, she settled into her new role and began sucking Master's cock.

***

The feeling of Alli's warm mouth around his cock was a relief to Dylan. He wasn't quite as empty-headed or sex-addicted as he had been, and he was definitely head and shoulders above Alli in that regard. But he did like to have his cock inside of someone.

And Alli would be happier this way. He could handle any customer, male or female, better than she could. With his size and dominant manner, he was confident that he could intimidate even the toughest special ops soldier. And as for women, he just knew that any woman would just melt at the sight of him, married or unmarried, straight, bi, or gay.

He was pretty happy, though, that the new customer was a woman. A tall Chinese woman, by the look of things. She looked youngish, and she was wearing a thin burgundy sweater over a black blouse, with dark gray slacks. She had black plastic-framed glasses and her black hair was done up in a bun that, in spite of a few loose strands, still looked pretty tight. In one hand, she carried a large brown leather purse. Her shoes were sensible dark flats.

She glanced at the counter, but didn't approach yet. Instead, she started browsing the snack section. Dylan shrugged and returned most of his attention to fucking Alli's mouth. She was pretty good at blowing him by herself, but she could always use a bit of guidance.

Behind him, he heard a door opened, and he turned a bit, to see the first customer, the one in the hoodie, emerging from the bathroom. Dylan was still a bit unclear about what had happened to him and Alli, but he was pretty sure that the mysterious customer was responsible for it, somehow. It could hardly be a coincidence that right after he'd entered, they'd started changing. Whatever had happened, Dylan didn't really have a problem with it. Maybe he would have before, but he wasn't the same man he'd been when he'd come in for his shift.

He noticed the first customer moving towards the new customer, and he realized that something was probably about to happen to her. He had no idea what that might be, but he felt strangely thrilled. On second thought, though, maybe the thrilled feeling was more related to his dick, which was ready to cum.

He put one hand on the back of Alli's head, threading his beefy fingers through her long bleach blond hair, and pushed her all the way onto his cock, sliding it down her throat. She looked like she was choking, but she didn't try to pull away. With a soft grunt, he orgasmed, shooting ropes of cum down Alli's throat. She swallowed them gamely, with barely a sound. Only a few bits leaked out of her mouth.

When he pulled out, Alli gasped for breath, her cheeks rosy red. She looked up at him and smiled, as she snagged the few stray bits of cum and swallowed them. He patted her on the head and said, quietly, "Get up and bend over the counter. I'm gonna fuck your pussy." She beamed and hopped up to her feet.

He'd briefly thought about the possibility that openly fucking on the counter would scare away the new customer, but he had a sneaking suspicion that she was busy right now. That pretty soon, she'd be changed herself. In the meantime, he could fuck his bimbo in the pussy without any worries.

***

Cameron had started regretting volunteering to drive to the meeting in Denver at around hour 4. She was now at hour 9, and she had at least four more hours to go, before she reached the hotel. Fortunately, she had planned the drive under the assumption that she would be stopping for a significant gas and food break at least twice, so this stop wouldn't actually put her behind schedule.

She'd pulled off the interstate at some random point that only mattered because people drove by it. She couldn't even remember the name of this place, just that it had a few functioning gas stations, and the gas here had been the cheapest. After filling her car's tank up outside, she walked inside, hoping to find a few decent snacks. It looked like there weren't many other people here, and that was fine, as far as she was concerned.

The hulking young man behind the register gave her an interesting first impression. His tight shirt outlined a very impressive set of muscles, but his gaze was more intelligent than she would've expected out of a young meathead. He did seem a little distracted, though, but she supposed that that wasn't too unusual for someone who worked the night shift. There didn't appear to be anyone else in the store, though maybe someone was hiding in the back.

She dismissed that speculation as irrelevant and walked over to the snack qqaisle. Normally, the food here would be off-limits to her, thanks to her diet. But today, she just needed something to keep her going to Denver. If that something was a tube of potato chips or a bag of chocolate candies, so be it.

As she was considering a bag of beef jerky, Cameron heard the footsteps of another person, off to her right. She looked up and saw a man in a green hoodie. He was looking at a shelf that held some terrible-looking deep-fried pork product. But when she looked over at him, he looked up, almost... as if... he... sensed... heeeerrrrrrrr... prrrreeeeeeeeseeeeeennnnncccce...

A great and terrible rush of power enveloped her, swallowed her, filled her, expanded her. She couldn't do anything to tear herself away. She just fell deeper and deeper and deeper into this strange outpouring of power. It engulfed her, remade her, transformed her.

It completely erased her, if only for a brief second. For just a bit, she was a nameless bit of flotsam in the cosmos, an insignificant piece of matter against the vast universe. If she could've felt anything, it probably would've been a unique experience.

Her awareness returned fairly slowly, as she tried to recover from that singular experience. As it returned, she realized that she felt different. She giggled as she realized how stupid and silly she felt, now. Before, she'd been a serious business babe, but now she was all super dumb and stuff!

Then she realized that her body felt weird, too. Her clothes were super tight, a lot tighter than they had been. Her bra, in particular, was really really bad. She took off her top and unfastened her bra. When her breasts fell free, she sighed with relief. They were nice and big and bouncy and they felt sooooo good when she tweaked her nipples and when she rubbed them she just got so warm and tingly...

After a little while, she realized that she was just standing around topless, playing with her boobies. And that just wasn't right! She should also be playing with her pussy, too! She took off her shoes and her pants and her panties, until all she had left on were her socks and her glasses. Then she began fingering herself, cooing with delight as she inserted her fingers.