The Job - Part 5 - The Reveal

Story by poweron on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

#5 of The Job

Stan and Emily have to confront their kids about whats happening with Stan and...lets say things get a bit rough.


Chapter 5


"Put something on, anything, just anything," Emily said with a sudden seriousness. He could tell she was stressed but that's when she shined. Emily always took charge and always seemed to know what to do. Even so, he couldn't help but notice how wide her eyes had gotten before she raced away towards the kitchen. Stan couldn't help but look down at the wet clear drops of his pre-cum on the hallway's worn plastic floor. He tried to wipe the slick liquid with his bare foot but it only smeared it in a large slimy arc only making the very thing he was trying to hide more apparent. To his alarm he could barely feel the liquid on his scrunched up toes.

His eyes re-focused on his abused tool as his increased heart rate and Emily's touch was slowly lifting his cock upward as it grew in length and rigidity. His balls felt heated in the afterglow of his wife's gentle groping which wasn't helping matters. Even flaccid, his penis was bigger than he used to be hard. The thing attached between his legs felt alien, apart from him. But the throbbing of hot blood down its slowly rising length was a stark and urgent reminder that it was very much his body.

Another bead of glistening pre-cum dripped from the tip of his red and overused tool as it jutted outward. His hands gripped the narrow hallway walls as his fingers tore small gashes in the thin peeling decorative coverings that adorned the walls. Stan couldn't help but push his thighs together, pressing his swollen testes together as his hips jutted outward making his still-swelling length even more pronounced. Another drop of pre-cum leaked from his tip before breaking and silently splattering below.

Stan's breathing was becoming labored and fast but suddenly the smell of cleaning agents wafted into his sensitive nostrils. He winced as the smell permeated what felt like his entire head at once. He couldn't hold back a deep snort as his lungs tried to clear the chemical burning smell from his nose. The smell snapped him out of his growing infatuation with his nethers. Stan shook his head. He hadn't realized how bad it was getting, he could barely think a few minutes without becoming entranced by his own assets. While he still was present and clear he had to act fast.

Heading to their bedroom he was determined to cobble something together before the kids came back. He still had no idea how they were going to broach what was happening to him to them. He hoped Emily would think of something as he rifled through their meager clothes.

"Come on, there muth be something..." Stan only had a moment to realize how much better he was getting at talking with his newly long mouth before he returned to his task. Most of their clothes were patched, torn and ragged to the point that they would do little to hide his current condition. There definitely wasn't anything that would fit his taller frame properly. But it was better than nothing. Stan grunted as he slipped on the best pair of underwear he had, a frayed pair of briefs that were once something of quality but long since discarded by their original owner. They went on snugly around his thighs as he wiggled them upward and over his widened hips.

"Hhnnnn!" Stan gasped suddenly as he pulled the underwear up by its tenuous waistband. The breath was almost knocked out of him. It felt like he was suddenly on the verge of cumming. The excruciatingly pleasurable tightness of the fabric as it cupped his heavy testes was sending shocks of electric pleasure through his entire crotch. He dared not move as his almost eleven-inch cock bobbed at full-attention, the underside of its thick base pressed against the top of the thread-bare elastic of the underwear. Stan's head craned upward as his face strained, the muscles in his elongated neck tensed under the skin as thick veins pulsed. The tightness of his sensitive balls made him feel like if he even moved a muscle he would explode.

After taking what seemed like an endless supply of deep breaths and thinking about Emily and the kids he finally conquered the pleasure enough to continue. His tool was still throbbing angrily but he didn't feel like he was in immediate danger of cumming anymore. After that shower he wasn't sure what he had left, but he didn't want to find out by painting his seed all over their few pieces of clothing in the world.

Slowly, like he was defusing a bomb, Stan maneuvered the waistband of the underwear up around the base of his cock. The only direction he could push the throbbing tool was up, towards his slightly concave belly. Every other direction hurt too much given how hard his length was. He didn't want to chance any more interactions with his cock that he needed. The pleasure coursing through his sensitive cock was still threatening to overwhelm him. He had a faint hope that the column of hot throbbing meat pressing against his abdomen would abate and nestle into his underwear by time the kids got back.

He pulled as many shirts out of their closet as he could find. The thickness of his neck posed a difficulty he had to account for. He was aware that his disfigured, approaching inhuman, body wouldn't fit most of his normal clothes well anymore. More than that, he felt like he needed to hide himself. He didn't want Kevin, Ethan, Lilly or Charlotte to see him like this. Oh god Charlotte. The realization of what he had set in motion hit him harder than seeing his body grow and change into the thing he was becoming. The worry in his wife's eyes felt like a relatively small compared to what he expected from his youngest daughter. He hadn't thought any of this through. He felt so stupid, so ashamed.

He didn't know how he was going to explain this all to Charlotte, or if eve even could. The rest of them would understand, even if it took them some time. He just knew they would. But Charlotte, she...he didn't know what he was going to do. Tears ran down his face as he wrestled with a wide-collared shirt as he dragged it over his head. He had miscalculated and his arm and head holes were misaligned, his right arm pinned against his body as his left frantically tried to wiggle out of its opening. In a sudden flurry of anger he ripped the shirt off his body, the old fabric giving almost no resistance to its destruction. Stan threw the scraps of fabric at the wall as hard as he could. He felt like he deserved to be turned into a monster, he couldn't even take care of his family. He collapsed onto the edge of the bed and couldn't stifle the tears that ran down his face. He had already felt like he had cried more in the past day than he had afforded himself in the last twenty years. Tears were a luxury, but as far as he knew they may be his last as a man...or whatever thing he was now.

"Hawwhhh," he moaned, the deep sound carried and was like nothing he had ever produced before as he leaned forward and held his foreign head in his hands. He didn't care about what noises he was making anymore. He felt like he had lost everything he ever cared about. He just sat there until his long ears swiveled towards the hallway. The sound of scrubbing was coming through the open door and the smell of the harsh chemicals too. Without looking up Stan could tell it was Emily. He could hear her pants rubbing the floor, the sound of the brushes individual bristles bending as they cleaned up his mess.

Looking up with red wet eyes Stan saw Emily's feet first as she worked her way backwards on her hands and knees down the hallway, scrubbing and wiping as she went. They didn't have much cleaner, even simple chemicals like ammonia were hard to come by. Cleaning their small bathroom on a regular basis was the one luxury they splurged on for their family. By the sound of the splashes and the overwhelming smell of chemicals permeating his newly sensitive nose he could tell she was using all of it. She wasn't saving anything for later even as much as they both knew they would need it.

Emily's had progressed far enough down the hallway that her head cleared the doorway as she diligently cleaned the mess he had made. She paused for a moment as he stared at her. But instead of looking back at him with her piercing green eyes she quickly continued cleaning. He knew what a toll this was taking on her. And all he was doing was sitting on the bed crying while she did what she had to. His hands bunched up handfuls of their bedsheets. He felt like he couldn't afford to take half-measures either. What was done was done now.

He still needed to get dressed properly, he was still only wearing his frayed underwear. The sinking thoughts had thankfully made his raging erection recede far enough that it no longer pressed against his abdomen. Looking down he could see his chafed but wet urethra stared up at him atop his receding penis. The much more manageable length was now wedged between his wispy pubic hairs and the stretched tent of the underwear's waistband. The fabric contoured his swollen balls tightly, he didn't dare adjust them for fear of awakening his flaccid tool once again.

Nothing seemed like it would fit. Stan stared at his folded pants. He knew there was no way he was going to get them on over his new assets without losing control again. He looked around trying to find something to use. Stan's eyes widened as he realized what to do. Quickly getting to his feet he yanked the rough sheet fabric off their mattress. Whipping the stiff cloth through the air he draped it over his head and body like a long robe. The fabric was loose enough that he could wrap it around his waist without pressing any harder against himself than his briefs already were.

The weight of the sheet pinning his ears down was uncomfortable but bearable. He had to know if it was enough. He didn't want to freak out his kids. It felt like enough but he couldn't be sure. He opened his mouth to call for Emily but then thought better of it as he heard her open the glass door of their shower. He winced waiting for a reprimand of the foamy soup of jism he had left but none came. He wanted so desperately to go help her clean his mess, but he knew that it would only make things worse. Flashes of his time in the shower skittered through his mind. The memories were strangely fragmented. The feelings were as clear as if he was still there. He could almost feel the hot water coursing over his body as his hands furiously traversed his length. His balls fed his need as they slapped the wall...

The tightness surrounding his crotch felt suddenly unbearable. He didn't think as his hands groped through the layers of sheet to massage his suddenly throbbing package. The contours of his flesh were indistinct under so much bunched up fabric but even through it all he could feel his hand heft his weighty balls as his thighs squeezed together. He could feel a wetness beginning to spread from his slowly extending cock as it deposited small drops of pre-cum across his abdomen and the rough fabric of the sheets that wrapped him.

"Whinni-" Stan's hands clamped his mouth shut halfway through the sudden animalistic cry. His body wanted to desperately to be freed from its confinement. His widened hips gyrated forward, thrusting his well-covered crotch outward before he realized what he was doing and managed to stop himself. Gingerly he removed his hands from his long face and hesitantly touched the bunched up sheet around his loins. He had to check that the wetness hadn't soaked through enough. A shudder of pleasure arced through him as he grazed his lemon-sized right testicle in the examination. It almost brought him to his knees. It was no good. He had to find another way to make sure he was covered enough for who he knew was heading towards their small home on the hill.

They had a large mirror stored away. Even the barest vanity was another luxury that only caused more issues than it solved. The mirror lay behind a stack of corrugated plastic storage boxes. Stan couldn't help but glance inside each one as he moved them out of the way. They were filled with carefully-packed knick knacks and trinkets they had found in the heaps. Emily and him had a hopelessly optimistic dream that the aggregated value would somehow help them give their children a better life away from the squalor that saturated every aspect of their lives. Now with his acceptance to the job he wished he could tell his younger self to save the trouble.

Freeing the mirror, Stan blew on it to clear the cobwebs and dirt that had accumulated on it before vigorously wiping it with his arm and the sheet he now wore. The smeary dust gave way to an acceptable-enough reflection. Distorted and shattered on one corner the mirror was still useful as he propped it up onto a sill near the small window that was the only source of natural light in their bedroom.

He peered into it afraid of what he was going to see. It was the first time he had seen himself in years. There was little in their district reflective enough to give him a good picture of what he looked like. He hardly remembered his own face and now...now it was already too late. He would never see himself, his old self again. He should have done this before he took the pills. Stan cursed his own stupidity and lack of foresight. The figure in the mirror came into view.

The reflection that traversed the mirrors rippling eddies of silver and spider web of hairline cracks was something he didn't recognize. The thing in the mirror looked shocked as its long face grimaced in lockstep with his own. He took a step back, the thing in the mirror stepped back at the same time just to confirm that it wasn't a trick of the light or a hallucination. Nothing looked right. Stan felt like he had been tossed out of his body again. His hands moved towards his face, the growth there was the most visible and pronounced. Just as his fingers touched the edge of his pronounced nostrils the front door ground open and the children's distinct entry chimes all sounded in quick succession.

"CHILRENNNN AAAARRRII-VING IN FIVE MINUTES," the house computer shouted as if it was attempting to catch itself up with reality. He could hear the kids laughing and kicking the already well-ruined entry speaker as they stormed the kitchen.

Gasping Stan pulled the sheets over his face and tightened the loose knot that held the sheet around his body. He didn't have time to inspect if the wet slick stains that pressed against his bare skin were visible from the outside.

"Moooommm...Daaaaadddd, we're home!" Charlotte shouted as she skipped down the hallway towards the bedroom. Stan froze, he didn't dare turn around. He felt like a child using sheets to protect them from monsters. Except now he was the monster and was hiding from a child. His child. Stan held his breath as Charlotte's sneakers banged their way closer and closer as if in slow-motion.

"Charlotte! I told you I wanted you to message if you wanted to stay over at Jenny's," Emily practically teleported in front of Charlotte blocking her access to their bedroom. Stan's heart was beating what felt like a thousand beats a minute as he quickly hid in the corner, flattening himself against the wall as best he could.

"I know, but you and dad don't have implants, it's like you are from the stone age!"

"You know why, now come on, I was just cleaning in there," Emily chided as she guided their youngest back out of the hallway towards their living area. It wasn't lost on him how cool and collected she was being. The way she was talking made it seem like nothing was amiss at all. Emily peeked in the doorway towards his huddled mass wrapped in sheets.

"Wait here," she whispered through clenched teeth to not be heard by their kids. "Come out when I say," she added before resuming her motherly demeanor and smiling down the hallway towards their kids. Stan could see her hands were red and raw from scrubbing the bathroom and hallway madly. He didn't even know if she got the kitchen where he had made a mess when he first took the pills.

"Whats with all these cans?" Ethan chimed from across the house. Stan could hear them like they were in the same room as him even with the sheets covering his ears. Stan winced. He knew he couldn't realistically hide them from the kids in such a small home. It was inevitable that they would find them, but he had hoped it would be much later. If he didn't spend so much of the time feeling sorry for himself or letting the monster he was becoming take hold he could have done something, done anything. His only fear now was that they would open the cans and eat the contents. The thought of that he couldn't bear to even entertain.

"Yeah mom, what are these? Did we win a Stoff' lottery or something?" Lilly, their oldest daughter asked. A flurry of discussion and questions ensued as Stan could hear the kids unstacking the organized pallet of the cans to investigate.

"Ok ok, Kevin, put those back.... do not open those! Hey put it back its not for you," Emily's tone transitioned from matronly to commanding as she got the rowdy bunch in line.

"Now I have something we need to get out of the way, it's about your father." Emily's tone became somber. Stan could hear the kids quiet down almost immediately. They knew something serious was about drop on them. Stan inched his way towards the open doorway of their bedroom.

"What is it mom? Is dad ok?" Kevin asked.

Stan could hear Emily take a deep breath.

"Sit down, please, all of you," Emily asked before continuing. The chairs squeaked against the floor and creaked as his family sat at the table.

"Where is dad?" Charlotte asked innocently, Stan could tell there was a tinge of growing anxiety in her voice.

"Your father...your father," Emily sputtered.

Stan gathered all his courage as he secured the sheets around himself and rounded the corner into the hallway. He knew he couldn't let her do this alone as he steeled himself and walked into the kitchen behind where Emily was standing.

The entire table looked up at him in shock.

His face was hooded as he could make it, but even so he could see the clear distress in his children's eyes. Emily was the only one to keep looking forward with him at their kids. A hushed silence fell over the room as he stood there, not moving, unsure where to begin

"Whats that?" Charlotte pointed at him bluntly, breaking the silence.

"Who...who are you? Who is this mom?" Lilly added quickly after.

Stan began to open his mouth to speak but before he could Emily did it for him.

"This... this.. is your father."

"Hi Lils," he waved weakly, he was never more aware of how much larger his hands had grown or his increased height than that moment.

Lilly was struck speechless as she stared at him. Emily was visibly shuddering, her strength failing at the confrontation. Stan took a step forward and put his hand on her shoulder to comfort her. He half-expected her to wince away but she put her hand atop his and squeezed. It felt like she had let him borrow her strength, if only just for a moment. Stan took a deep breath as he looked back at his children's faces from behind the folds of the sheets.

"I volunteered...I mean I signed up for... You know how Inglestoff has certain people that...." Stan's voice wavered as he tried to explain. His voice cracked like a teenagers, undulating between a surprisingly deep baritone and what sounded like his normal talking voice if he was simultaneously inhaling helium.

"They need me to... the job I took...It needs me to become...something else, I-" Stan didn't know how to describe what he was becoming to them. He barely was able to fully confront what he had signed up for himself. Stan could see all of his children shrink away from him in their seats.

"I won't be human anymore," he managed to blurt out as an end-cap to his rambling and hurried explanation. Kevin, Ethan, Lilly and Charlotte's faces were unreadable, their eyes were wide and faces drawn tight. Stan shifted uncomfortably between his feet. The silence was unbearable. Even Emily's gentle pressure on his hand waned as her work-worn hand rested limply on his.

"Is that really you dad?" Kevin was the first to speak.

"Yeah... it is Kev, I didn't want to scare you so I put this on," Stan plucked at the sheet that covered almost his entire body and shrouded the rest in darkness.

"I took the pills this morning...and ate the food you saw already," Stan pointed at the pile of canisters, one of which was resting squarely in front of Lilly where he assumed she had been inspecting it before he made himself known.

"Its going to be hard on all of us, but I want you all to know this was the only way to..." Stan didn't know if he could reveal the reasons why he had done what he did. How bad things were for them and what fate awaited them if he hadn't make this choice.

"We are in the red guys...really really deep in the red" Emily said softly, her eyes turning downwards for the first time. Stan could tell it was as hard as telling them that their father was turning into a monster.

"We got notice that they scheduled us for the Dalton labor camps...we would never see each other again after that," Emily filled in as she released Stan's hand from her shoulder and clasped her own in front of her so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"What, wait-" Ethan erupted suddenly, unable to process the news.

"We had until the end of the month, I...we couldn't let them do it," Emily couldn't hold back a sob. Stan tried to rub her shoulders to comfort her, he knew his enlarged hands weren't the most calming for her at the moment but he couldn't think of anything else to do.

"We didn't want to worry any of you...it's getting close now. This was the only way," Stan nodded downwards towards his sheet-obscured body. He knew they were doing them no favors hiding it anymore.

"Your father... he was given an opportunity, a rare opportunity to stop it," Emily added.

"Emile and Brasko can do it too right? They can do what daddy did? Make money so their sickness can go away?" Charlotte asked, almost crying. Lilly moved her chair closer to their youngest and cradled her tightly to comfort her. Stan only heard the names in passing around their meals, he tried to remember if they were the young heap miners Charlotte used to play with. The last few years he was so busy doing any and every job that came his way to try to keep food on their table that he had lost track of much of his family's social lives.

"No, no they can't they aren't..." Emily reached out and held Charlotte's hand. "They don't have the right stuff in them. They tried, they dont need anymore people with what they have," she tried to explain. Stan was reassured that at least Emily knew who Charlotte was walking about. It sounded like Emile and Brasko were in worse shape as they were. It was bad everywhere in their district. Charlotte was young enough that the callousness of their world hadn't yet sunk into her bones.

"So what does this mean? You don't want to be our father anymore?" Ethan banged his hands on the table rattling the old furniture in a sudden boiled-over fury.

Stan knew that the question was coming. It made sense it was from Ethan, he was always the hottest-headed and emotional of their children.

?"Ethan...its not that-" Stan was interrupted as Ethan bolted out of his seat, the chair falling backwards with a loud clatter and crack of something having broken.

"We could run, they could never find us," Ethan balled his fists. "Why did you do this dad? Why?!" Ethan cried, the grief turning to rage.

"There is no fighting the company, you know what they did to your grandfather, my father..." Emily tried to remind Ethan. They hardly talked about it but even their neighbors all knew the story.

"No. No. There has to be another way. They can reverse it. They can reverse it." Ethan refused to be consoled as he shook his head. Stan knew how desperately he was trying to come to terms with what was happening.

Stan felt like he needed to show Ethan how far he had progressed. That there was no going back. The sooner he saw it the sooner he would accept it. At least Stan hoped. Stan's hands slipped from Emily's shoulders. He paused, knowing that there was no going back from what he was about to show them.

"There is no reversing this, I'm sorry Ethan," he said as he slipped the bed-fabric hoodie from his head. His scooped ears rebounded upwards as his elongated muzzle was illuminated for them all to see. The sheets began to fold downward, undressing him more than he intended. Without the aid of his head to support the sheet it was receding from his body quickly. In a sudden and urgent panic he only just managed to stop the sheet from falling entirely to the floor. His hands grabbed and bunched the cloth around his hips saving what little modesty he had left.

His pale chest rose and fell with every breath as he revealed much more to his children than he intended. The distended and thickened armature of his rib-cage pushed visibly into his thin pale skin. The triangle of muscle that connected his neck to his widened shoulders tensed as he wanted nothing more than to retreat into their bedroom and lock the door. Stan gulped, his mouth felt dry.

Ethan fell silent as his eyes went as wide as a plates as Stan watched him take in his body. Stan could practically feel his son's eyes taking in every detail of his monstrous visage. Despite his instinct to avoid further pain he looked around the room at his other children. Their mouths hung limply open, aghast at what they were taking in he was sure. Looking back at Ethan he could see all the color drain from his eldest son. Ethan staggered backwards before slumping into an awkward seating position on the broken upended chair's legs. It looked as if all the energy and fury he had displayed moments ago was drained from his body.

"aaaaahhhhhHHHHHH!!!" Charlotte let out of a slowly escalating scream as Stan struggled to draw the sheet back over his head but the damage was done.

"Shhh...shhh, it's ok," Emily comforted Charlotte until her screaming faded into a gurgle.

"I'm sorry, I know what it must look like, what I look like," he tried to apologize as he drew the sheet back over his head, careful to not expose the area between his legs. Even a glancing thought regarding his new assets was starting to re-ignite his dormant erection. He had unfocus on that immediately. He couldn't let that happen in front of his kids. There was no way he could live with himself if he revealed that part of the changes to them. Stan gritted his teeth as he steeled himself against the subdued but insistent throbbing that coursed through his loins.

"Are you still...you?" Lilly asked, she was the most thoughtful of their children and was taking it all in what seemed like relative stride. Her question was a welcome distraction. He knew that there were many more questions and thoughts brewing behind her smart brown eyes.

"I am...I am still me. Listen, all of you... I will always be your father. I love you and nothing can change that. Not even this," Stan gestured to his chest as he tightened the sheets to try to prevent another accidental disrobing. He scanned the room to reassure everybody that what he was saying was true. None of them broke away from his gaze, even in the most stressful situation of his life it made him crack a faint smile. They had raised good strong kids.

He realized he had to tell them that it wasn't over. There was more coming. He had to make it easier for them, any way he could. They all had to confront what was ahead.