ApolloBiotech

I stood in the center of your conversation pit, facing the many reflections of my jacked physique, wrapped in sweaty discount designer clothes, being circled like a shark, by the many reflections of you. 

You ordered me to raise my arms and clasp my hands behind my head. You ran your hands across my damp snug clothes, to assess my jock body, squeezing my swole muscles as you felt along, gripping the firmness of my biceps, traps, lats, pecs, abs, glutes, quads and calves. 

"Lovely," you complimented. The irony of the situation stung. I had been seeking to impress you for the past two years and was now receiving admiration from you in this objectifying manner. The ego boost fed my growing cock though, confined by briefs and tightly tailored pants. You noticed my prominent bulge and stroked it's outline. “I do pay attention to talent, Mr. Macedo. My VP of Sales, your boss, Doug has an eye for what I like. He scouted you from Cal Poly Pomona because he knew you would be my type.”

“Please don't do this, Buddy. What are you doing?" I pleaded. My ambition of professional growth was over, I reflected. 

You took off my dress shirt, sweat-stained at the pits and pecs, and my soaked tank top, nearly transparent. “So much to unwrap to get to the goods,” you remark. “From now on, no more t-shirts or tank tops as under shirts. You’ll only wear them if they’re the only layer. The clothes need to be tighter too.” You enjoyed my adrenaline-glistening torso.

"What are you going to do? Why are you doing this?” My voice was so meek, a shell of the alpha male I had been. Doug exposed my sexual misconduct to you. I wasn't sure if you also knew about Maesarah Saleh's true age, that she misrepresented, but my freedom was also done for if you decided to report me to the Singaporean authorities. 

 “You came here today with the intent on moving up to a different position. I do have an open position I think you'd be the perfect candidate for. No, not as the Sales Director for Hermes Motor. You’re still going to be with ApolloBiotech, but going forward, rather than a role in sales, you are going to be the product.” 

You ordered me out of my and loafers and pants, leaving my spanish and chinese mixed race golden tanned body dressed only in burgundy socks and white Calvin Klein briefs. You revisited my growing bulge.

"ApolloBiotech has two public divisions, hardware and pharmaceutical, but there's one more, stealth division. If that sounds unfamiliar to you, it should be. It's a discrete division for the development of controversial products that the general public shouldn't have access to or knowledge of. The work in stealth division feeds into the products in AB pharm and AB hardware, and in turn, those products feed back into stealth division. For example, the pharm division's stimulant medication is based on a mind-altering drug developed in stealth, but AB pharm's commercially released version is consumer safe. Also, AB hardware's medical autonomous surgical tool influenced a product at stealth division that you will meet first hand, shortly." 

With my body undressed, your hands run across my jacked physique again, following meridian lines, you explained. I moaned when your fingers met my adonis belt. You took note of the erogenous zone.

"ApolloBiotech. Bio. Tech. Embedded in the foundation of AB, has always been the covert goal of developing living dolls for a certain affluent clientele. And the role I have in mind for you is to be the sandbox for this new product."

You commanded me to pose and my drugged mind obliged. I presented to you double bi's, side chest, side tricep, lat spread, abdominal & thigh, most muscular. "Mmm, I know someone that will love this hard ass, but this wide flared back might be my favorite part," you desired.

"Why me?" I pleaded.

"If you don't prefer 'living doll' you can think of it as a 'living wrestling action figure' considering your background," you consoled.

Now having direct access to my body hair and flushed flesh, you ordered me to raise my arms again, hands clasped behind my head. Your fingers dance at my serratus muscles, triggering my cock to tent hard in my briefs. You take note of an erogenous zone that I didn't even know I had.

"Why you in particular? First off, you have a great physical profile. Some clients may prefer someone taller but we're only starting this project in the sandbox. Secondly, your social profile is ideal as well. Human trafficking is not an easy thing to do, particularly not easy to do inconspicuously. A loathsome lone wolf is good for discrete business."

You swirled the head of my cock through my briefs, my head rewarding you with precum soaking through the white fabric.

"Why you instead of something like a robot? AB stealth is working on those too, but the A.I. technology isn't there yet. Just look at ChatGPT or MidJourney. They only make an imitation of what a human might do. There's something poetic about a real soul. Also, the temperature and feel isn't quite right either. The robot flesh feels very inorganic."

You gently scraped my adonis belt.

You worked my bulge through the fabric 

so so so well.

Unghhhhh

I was going to shoot. 

You listened to my panting,

At the final moment you grabbed the base of my cock through the briefs outline. I spasmed due to my body being denied from orgasming.

"We also tested the human-only route. The stealth version of our erection medication has completely melted a test product's brain before." I was familiar with the AB pharm's commercial erection med's side effect, making my brain loopy due to Doug's husband providing it to my ex-Camille for her pleasure of my hard cock. "Those products were missing a certain spark of life for our clients. I'm hoping we'll figure out the goldilocks formula with you, a combination of consumer-grade mind adjustments in addition to some tech upgrades. You'll be a testament to the subtle combination of an Apollo, that is a marriage of 'Bio' and 'Tech'. It's a great opportunity, right? You want to do what's best for the company, don't you?” you grabbed my stubbled face and nodded it up and down in agreement.

I was a student of Andrew Tate Hustler's University on how to hustle in my career. Your new career plan for my jacked physique is to turn me into a different kind of hustler, a body hustler. You pinched my areolas and thumbed my hardening nipples. 

"Hmm, no reaction. These don't hot wire to your dick?" you asked me.

"No Pal, they only just get sensitive" I answered.

"Too bad, one of our clients really likes titpigs, so we're going to have to make that happen," you noted on your phone.

"Your masculine physique is really lovely for a real man, but my clients are still expecting a level of porn star fuckability. I'm going to have the lab measure the right cocktail to burn off this baby fat because customers will want to see your muscles more defined than 16%" you recorded.

You ordered me to take off my briefs.

"APOLLO, show me what Mr. Macedo will look like with the preplanned adjustments made." The right side floor-to-ceiling smart mirror activates and shows the salt, from my salt and pepper hair, taking over completely, ice blonde, and my body smooth, completely hairless. 

“No, the Ken Doll doesn’t work here with your ethnic features. You’re both too handsome and yet too pretty for this edit. We’ll keep the cosmetic changes natural and just take the body hair down to stubble just to make it neat. I can market you as a BTS member that's hairy," you turned off the smart display.

BTS is Korean. I'm Chinese. A better comparison would be Jackson Wang, but I'm more jacked and tan than that dude. You stood behind my with your arms wrapped around my torso, exploring my adonis belt erogenous zone and, new-to-me, erogenous zone in my armpit. My rigid cock stood up and out. You lubed my head with your left hand and my length with your right hand.

“Answer honestly, what concerns do you have about this career change.”

So many things were going through my mind as I saw my reflection, my jacked physique on display, being pleasured by someone I held high respect for. My clearance designer clothes strewn about your fancy conversation pit. My tech career, my TikTok followers, my student loan and coke debt. “I don’t want to be gay. I don’t want to be fucked,” I finally spat out. 

You held my face tenderly. “ApolloBiotech is a technology company so penetration by our hardware division comes with the territory and you’ll likely benefit from the pleasure too. But I promise, no one will enter you themselves with their cock while we're in the sandbox phase of development, so you can hold on to being straight for now.” 

Your expert handling of my cock had me on the edge. 

Both hands clockwise.

One switched to counter clockwise.

Both switched going the other direction.

You pressed your digits into my serratus.

One hand back on my head swirling my corona.

I watched my muscles tense 

and my cock thrust. 

Oh god, 

I was going to shoot. 

You grabbed my big spanish balls with your left hand and punched them with your right. My body shook, being prevented from orgasming again.

I went to my knees on your command. You wrapped your unremarkable right arm around my thick neck. Your forearm blocked the arteries on the left side of my neck while your bicep blocked the arteries on the right side of my neck. The reflection before me was a buff muscle jock being choked out by wealthy tech genius. The reflection faded as my muscles go limp. I blacked out.