Bottom Rung Work

Tags: Feminization, Femboy, Hyper, Big Ass, Excessive Cum, Thick Penis

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"Everybody wants to be a pornstar, but not everyone has the balls for it." What a cruel joke. The idea of literally having sex with the hottest women in the country for money, it seems almost too good to be true. Those giant, luscious naturals from Mia Hawkke. That tight, sweaty beach bod from Jenni Nix. Getting rode by that ginormous pale goth booty with Luna The Goddess. It could've been mine, damnit!

Instead, when I showed up to the screening session, they almost laughed at me. "Below average build, below average penis, below average spirit. Singularly unremarkable." They crushed my confidence with those few words and made sure I'd never get a shot at stardom.

That's not all, though. To add insult to injury, they talked about how they were in need of a new janitor, someone to clean up after the shoots. Unfortunately, I was dirt broke and didn't plan on getting served an eviction notice soon, so I begrudgingly took the position. Just something to hold over the expenses. Maybe I would go back to college and get a real job with a degree soon?

That "soon" never came. Year after year, I lost more motivation to do anything beyond the bare minimum. Just go in, do my job, get some McDonald's on the way back and knock out. Rinse and repeat, on and on. It was a lonely existence, but at least I wasn't homeless. The only desired interaction I'd have every now and then was my Site Manager named Claire.

She was honestly a sweetheart. Amazing sense of humor, too. Great, shining emerald eyes, a fiery red mane that went down to her shoulder blades, and the cutest chin that a 20-something year old could have. It wasn't a part of her job, but she'd always let me know about everything special going on around the place, and apparently today was one of those days.

"Hey Tom! How's your day going?" A genuine smile crept from her face, those pearly whites beaming directly into my eyes.

"Same shit, different day. At least I get to see a special little corn kernel today, though." I retorted, gesturing to her.

"Har, Har," she said sarcastically. "Good morning to you too. I just wanted to let you know about what's gonna be occurring in the immediate future. Apparently, there's a breakout agency that's going to be collaborating with us over the next couple of months. Their name is X-Gaia, but I'm unaware of what their schtick is exactly."

Agencies doing crossovers with their 'models' was pretty common, but each one usually had a theme to their people. You've got the BBC's, the MILFS, the cake-sitters. Whatever they might be. It also gave me an idea on what kinda cleanup I'd have to look forward to afterwards.

Lesbian stuff was easy, a little squirt isn't hard to take out and just a few ounces of detergent will take care of the covers. Cum is a little harder though, if you get careless then you can end up staining the material. Don't even get me started on the bukkakes though. Those always gave me a great urge to just torch the whole room.

"Anyways, I hear they get pretty messy, so this is your official heads-up on that." Claire then dropped her head and spoke softly, "I do appreciate all the work you do, and I promise we're still looking for another custodian to help out." With that, she walked back to her office, leaving those sumptuous hips to trail behind her. I always thought about those cheeks as a consolation prize to the ends of our conversations.

It's just, ugh. She honestly is so fucking attractive. It angers me to know that I'm too damn ugly to have a shot. A good 30 pounds overweight, undefined jaw, and a manlet-proving height of 5'5 destroyed any chance at a real shot. Oh well, I've already been through this self-loathing shit so many times. At some point, it doesn't really matter anymore.

***

I was coming out of the storage closet, ready to get to work. Rubber galoshes, yellow jumpsuit, nylon gloves, and a plastic hair cap were all a part of my apparel when it came to cleaning up after scenes. It was legally required considering that bodily fluids are huge biohazards.

As I shuffled to the set on the other end of the floor, a strange scent wafted through the air. It was fleeting, but still weird, considering that years of exposure had deadened my sense of smell to just about everything, pleasant or repulsive. It was hard to pin down a specific smell, but it vaguely resembled wax candles or something.

I finally came to the door, and it was now time to see the damage. As I slowly entered through the dingy threshold, as I had done for the past multiple years, my dread was made into justified fear. Strings of murky cum were liberally strewn about the room. Ropes of congealed semen littered the floor, pools of bodily juices collected in various spots around the queen-sized bed. Some had already crusted over the various throw pillows in the room.

I was told that this was only a duo scene, but obviously I was lied to. There was absolutely no way that two people could've done all this. I kneeled down, resting upon my mop in order to collect enough energy and courage to start the job. After a few minutes, I started my work.

It was grueling, this kind of task required precise detail. No stone could be left unturned, lest I get blamed for doing my duty incorrectly. A job of this scale would take almost three hours, and I would continue to be paid barely above a survivable wage. Regardless, it had to be done.

Around the two and a half hour mark, I was nearly finished. The floor was drying, the tables were cleaned, and all that was left was a large puddle of viscous semen in the middle of the bed. It seemed almost inhuman, like no regular person should be capable of making what seemed like over an entire gallon of jizz splashed onto the mattress. My plan was to take off the entire sheet, scrape off what I could, and see what multiple rounds of washing could do.

As I reached for the corner of the bed, my foot caught on a loose pillow, and I lost my balance. Luckily, I flopped onto the bed which wouldn't risk any serious injury. 'Un'-luckily, my face had landed smack dab in the middle of the giant cum puddle. My mouth had been opened from the yelp I released while falling, so there was nothing restricting the mystery cum from going straight down my throat. As soon as I had comprehended what happened, I went into a full panic, screaming and yelling as I rushed out of the room and into the nearest bathroom.

Even after the 20th scrubbing of my tongue, I couldn't get the taste out of my mouth. It was so strange, like salty-sweet cake batter that was extremely chewy. And

that made it even worse, considering that out of all the times I was told how semen tastes, no account had come close to that.

Eventually, I slid down to my knees and sobbed for a while on the bathroom floor, unknowing of whether or not I had just contracted an STI from pure clumsiness. After I could bear to stand, I called Claire in an emergency.

The shrill tone of those unanswered beeps were killing me, but after a while, she picked up. "What's going on, Tom? You know this is about the time when I clock out and I HATE being interr- wait, are you crying? What's going on?"

I was indeed crying. It was incredibly hard to get it together after such a traumatic event happened. It took me a couple minutes, but I explained the horrifying event of the evening.

"Oh my! That's so terrible, I'll get back to you right away!" She left the phone for a bit, but I knew what she was doing. Claire had a log of every actor who participated in shoots within the building, and she was fetching that to help make sense of the situation.

"Okay, let's see here. 2:30 block... Room 32A.. Okay, got it. It seems like you're in luck, Tom. Neither of the actors are logged with any STD's and there's also the addition of some form of false cum as well. There's a chance you might not have even ingested any actual bodily fluids, so I think you're in the clear. Once again, I'm sorry that you had to go through that, but I hope you have a good night." A beep sounded through my phone, signaling the end of the call.

I was shaken from the events of the evening, but where I used to be filled with absolute terror, I now laid on the cold tile out of exhaustion. Everything felt terrible. Even if I wasn't infected, I was still stuck with a terrible, dead-end job. I had no real savings, no real friends. My pudgy belly slumped over onto the hard floor, and a cold breeze flowed over my balding head. I'd been going nowhere fast, and it's been that way for almost a decade. Actually, scratch that. Today was the... 16th? Yeah, that made it official. It's my birthday, and I had been working as a porn studio's janitor for 10 years at this point.

I just wish I could actually do something with my life.

***

When I came to, I could only feel the crust of dried tears, ran down from my cheeks. It was clear that I had fallen asleep right there in the bathroom, and judging from the dimmed environment outside the door, I was the only one left in the building.

As I went to wash my hands, another odd thing happened. Something smelled off about the soap. After using it for so many years, my nose became blind to just about any cleaning product that wasn't bleach. However, I could definitely pick up the faintly distinct smell of citrus within the dispenser. It was a welcome change of pace from the singing smell of industrial-grade cleaners.

After my hands, I looked up at the smudged mirror to wash my face a tiny bit. I was able to do it without an issue, but yet another signal went off in my head that everything wasn't normal. I'm not sure what it was. I had never been a looker. Receding hairline, oily dark hair, slight double chin. It was a pretty shit situation for a freshly 29 year old man, but it didn't look all the way like that anymore. Question is, "what is it"? My eyes? My jaw? My skin? It all looked... smoother. Like there's more "facial harmony" going on, whatever the beauty gurus call it. Hard to pin down, but I was too tired to worry about that now. I steeled my resolve, finished my job, then went home to my apartment a full 6 hours after starting my last room.

Exhaustion took me, and I completely knocked out without a care for removing my work uniform. After such a stressful day, even my rock hard, steel-springed bed felt like true paradise. I'm not a common dreamer, but there were vague visions that showed up during the night.

It was of a gigantic cock, absolutely ramming into the juiciest pussy I could ever fathom. Even with lips that put hot dog buns to shame, the monster penis stretched it thin. Constant, vigorous motion, pumping in and out constantly. Its veins were unbelievably numerous and thick, one in particular ran down the easily multi-foot length of the rod. It pulsed and throbbed with increasing force until the entire penis slid out in the open. After a quick jerk, testicles over the diameter of softballs clenched, and an unfathomable deluge erupted from the penis.

Blast after blast, easily eclipsing *multiple* loads worth of an average man's climax even with a singular rope. After what could almost be a minute, the bounty had been expelled completely. However, my perspective changes to see the aftermath of the monster's orgasm. I was left with the sight of a large puddle.

Right in the middle of a bed.

In the exact shape and consistency of the cum that I fell into.

I launched from my sheets, shocked by the uncovered nightmare. I was bathed in a cold sweat and slight shivers, still traumatized by last night. It took a while, but I was eventually able to calm myself to the point of being able to stand up from my mattress that sat directly upon the floor.

I took in my surroundings a bit, just to root myself in reality. I was still in my dilapidated single-bed apartment, so that's the same. It lays barren with no decorations whatsoever, and the only face the walls have ever seen is me, cool. I can walk to my small-ass bathroom and see the same old miserable face I'v-*woah*.

Something is definitely up.

Before I even made it to the bathroom, I could notice and hear the jumpsuit fabric rubbing on the insides of my thighs. Almost like I was filling the suit more, but it's not like I've been eating (even) worse than usual, right?

Once I actually got a look in the mirror, my suspicions were confirmed. My face *definitely* Looked off. My double chin was a smidge less prominent. My hairline receded just a tiny bit less today. My normal brown eyes have gained the slightest hint of hazel to them. Everything felt... better, I suppose. Not just in my face, but my entire body felt healthier!

I unzipped my jumpsuit to check over the changes. First, my skin felt smoother and springier. My potbelly was still there, but I could swear there were a couple less stretchmarks than before. My hips definitely didn't look as shapely a week ago. The dimensions had only shifted a few inches, well within normal 'dude's ass' measurements, but who could tell where this could go. Luckily, I didn't have work today, so I had the day to fuck around and explore my new body.

An errant thought crossed my mind quickly, though. Could this be a result of some sorta hormones in my food? Aw shit, what if it gives me ED?! With slight panic and fervor, I jumped in my bed to test this concerning possibility. I stripped off my boxer briefs to look at my mediocre penis.

Within a short moment, it rose to its full erection of 4 inches. A disappointing length, but- hmm, that's odd. As I wrapped my hand around it, I noticed a distinct difference. Is- is my dick thicker than usual?

I'm not sure if it was because I was relieved to not have ED, but I *definitely* didn't have a penis like this usually. Whereas it used to be equally thin all around, now there was a noticeable level of girth added, with most of it concentrated partway up the shaft.

Tired of the speculation, I began to stroke. Immediately, my suspicions were confirmed. My fingers would almost get stuck around the bulge of the shaft, but that made it feel so much better. I gripped it with even more strength and pumped with pleasure.

The sensation was so intense, I started to buck my hips and curl my toes. It had been *years* since I felt this good, so I was gonna bask in it as much as possible. After a few minutes, I felt my testicles start to throb. I closed my eyes tightly and climaxed with insane force. It was so forceful that I let out a grunt as the first rope left my penis. I got out a good five spurts before my orgasm died down.

After the end, I fell completely limp, exhausted from the exercise. Well- almost completely. My dick still stood proud and erect, throbbing against my thigh. I don't think I've ever gone multiple rounds before, but fuck it. Why not now?

I grabbed my dick again and restarted the process, squeezing it tightly to feel the entire girth. Once again, it felt almost heavenly to grip it like that. After a few minutes, I climaxed again, sending the exact same amount of cum flying in the air. After the second go, my penis was fully flaccid, but now I got to bathe in the aftermath of my orgasm.

It was so fulfilling, I could almost fall asleep again. In fact, I did just that. When I regained consciousness, it had almost been a whopping 16 hours. I slowly rose from the bed, and wiped away the hair from my face.

Hair- from my face? Huh?

I ran to the bathroom once again, and there it was. 4 inches of hair had grown from my scalp seemingly overnight. Now that I'm actually looking, it seems that everything I had noticed that was different yesterday had been kicked up a notch. Thicker thighs, less blemishes, lighter eyes-everything!

I made a triple check towards my phone to make sure I wasn't actually in a coma, but it confirmed that less than 24 hours had passed! This should be an extremely concerning predicament, but I couldn't be brought to care less! Having some hair actually grow on the top of my hair rather than the sides was enough to get me jumping for joy! Not to mention, my whole face looked a *whole* lot easier to look at, even if I do kinda look more... androgynous.

Never mind that, though. I still gotta get to my job, I'm gonna be late! I spent the next 20 minutes trying my very best to stretch out my jumpsuit, but it still gave me a noticeable wedgie in the back. Fuck it, I'll deal with that later. I rushed out the door, not even thinking about the wavy, brownish hair that went a little past my ears now.

I barely made it to work on time, just in time to deal with the end of a BBC shoot. As I was pushing my mop over to the room, I ran into Claire in the hall. "H-Hey Tom! Glad to see you didn't die yesterday, I would've felt really bad to skip your funeral!" It was nice to see that she was acting mostly normal, but I could still tell that something was catching her up. "Did you get a new haircut or something?" She squinted at me.

"Oh, this?" I moved a strand out of my eye, "I guess that mint oil finally did something, heh."

"Mmmaybe, but that's a *lot* of hair to grow in just a couple days. Oh well, guess I didn't notice before now. It looks pretty good on you though, fits your face a lot better~" Claire began to walk away, but her words lingered on me. "Pretty good?" those words had never been used to describe me before. I continued walking down the hallway with an added flutter in my step, repeating her words to myself.

I spent the day in higher spirits than I'd experienced in years. Claire wasn't the only one to notice something different about me. A bunch of people I'd never really even held a conversation with were all so interested to mingle now. A few didn't even recognize that I was Tom until I told them. Seeing so many pleasantly surprised people made me feel really warm inside. Suddenly, it didn't feel so bad to be stuck at this job.

***

Once again, the end of the day had approached and all I had left to do was retrieve the laundry from all the shoots. Simple folding and storing, nothing too bad. It was probably one of my more preferred jobs since it didn't involve dealing with cum anymore. All the smells were industrial detergents, bleaches, and... something else right now.

As soon as I popped open the dryer, a particular scent caught in my nose again. Wax candles, no wait, 'birthday' candles, and a little bit of cake too. I immediately started tossing everything out in an attempt to pin down the scent. A random sheet, socks, throw pillows, nothing! Until... I saw it again.

The blanket. The blanket from that day again.

I slowly, carefully started to pull it out. Every inch that was retrieved, the stronger the smell became until it was like I was literally sitting with a cake in front of me. What I saw when it was fully revealed was nothing short of appalling. The glob of cum that I fell into the other day, it was right there. The washer and dryer had done absolutely nothing to wash it off. I couldn't even smell the detergent or bleach on it, just the candles.

I felt my face tingling. My hand went up to touch it, but even my fingers felt a tad more svelte than they should for a decade of cleaning. My heartbeat slowed while I knelt on the floor, staring at the glob of cum. Wait... the hair, my hips, my face... all of that started after I slipped into the puddle. Could- could this all be related?

I could barely move, shocked at the revelation. W-what should I even do? It was an overwhelming situation, to mention how insane someone would see this as. Then, I thought back to today. All those smiles, all those people happy to talk to me. I never really had that. It was thanks to this... thing, that I could really be pleased today.

Instinctively, I noticed that my face had gotten closer to the puddle. Much closer. It didn't even register as human semen anymore. It was a gift to me, one that I hadn't received in so long. So, so long. I don't even know how it got to me, but it did.