"…And so, by delegating tracking tasks to the mass public, we'll increase productivity by five hundred percent! All you'll have to do is check in with Zuckerberg once in a while and make sure we're getting a decent chunk of the ad space."

Reagan Ridley was waving a laser around at the several presentation boards she'd set up in the meeting room, clearly on a roll. Several patches of wall were singed and smoking, and a few consoles were on fire where she'd accidentally set off the laser—she hadn't been able to find a pointer and so just swiped one from R&D—and Brett Hand was currently in the process of trying to disarm her.

"That's great, Reagan! I can't wait to get started! Why don't you hand me the deadly laser and give me a go at poin—wah!" He dived to the floor as Reagan haphazardly swung it in his direction.

"J.R. left me in charge while he went on that sex cruise to Tahiti and I'm not going to waste it! Now, point fifty-three, why we shouldn't infect Toronto with syphilis until after the genital warts wear off. Andre, I'm looking at you here."

As the inevitable argument began, one hybrid veteran was banging his head against the table. Glenn Dolphman had been in this room for three hours, and aside from Reagan's questionable version of a laser pointer, not a single gun had been fired. No one had been hurt, not even a simple severing of a limb! He missed the days when Cognito meetings consisted of a fight to the death and several drawn-out conflicts afterwards. He liked violence. Like-liked it. The blood, the screams, the dysentery, the smell of gunpowder in the air…

There he stood, one foot propped up on the mangled corpse of an enemy general, pistol raised up high. A pre-dolphin surgery Glenn fired into the air for no other reason than to feel the joy of pulling the trigger and basked in the chaos around him. Down there, look! Someone being bayoneted from both sides. And over there, some poor schmuck just stepped on a landmine! And on that hill, a tank drove right through a crowd of soldiers! He couldn't tell if the tank belonged to his squadron or theirs, but he didn't care. The beauty of it all could have brought a tear to his eye… if his ducts hadn't been fried off in an ambush twenty years back.

"Isn't it just so cool?" He heard someone below him say. "You must be loving it!"

"Brett?! What the hell are you doing here?" Glenn looked down to see the handsome young bachelor clambering up the pile of debris and bodies, stopping when his head was at crotch height.

"I was just passing through when I thought, I bet Glenn has a raging war boner right now. Am I right?"

"I, er…" Glenn scuffed his boot on a corpse's jacket. "I can't help it, it's a coping mechanism."

"Oh, I'm sure it's more than that, honey," another voice said. "A big strong dolph…uh, man like you? Who wouldn't find it exciting?"

"Yeah… It is pretty hot." Glenn found himself admitting.

"You're a dude, you can't help it! It's like when I eat LSD-soaked shrooms sprinkled with cocaine, back before that got too weak for me," another chimed in.

"It's just how I am," Glenn agreed.

"I love seeing people get hurt!" said a voice from right in his ear. A hand appeared on his shoulder, small but with a firm grip. It traveled down his arm. "Almost as much as I love groping military soldier dick."

"Reagan! I didn't know you were into that. Sorta assumed you were a lesbian or something."

More hands were on him now. Gigi's, Andre's, Brett's… all grabbing at his general's coat, hat, and pants… stripping him down right there on the battlefield. A rumble of happiness emanated from Glenn's throat as his handsome, toned man's chest was revealed and one of his colleagues began tweaking his nipples. Another ran their fingers through his hair, and another nearly had his pants off.

"What a handsome man you are…"

"And you look so young!"

"I'd definitely bone you."

"And this dick! It's so big and majestic."

And then something touched his cheek, something cool and slippery and definitely not a hand.

"Glenn?"

"Hm? Myc, you're here! Wanna touch my dick? Apparently, everyone else is."

"What in the fuck? Are you getting groped in an active warzone right now?"

"Huh? Yeah, what about… it… wait, you guys aren't in the military."

"Very astute of you, Lard-man," Myc drawled.

"And we didn't meet until after Andre performed my dolphin surg… Oh, shit, this is a dream, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so. But hey, don't stop on my account. Looks like Dream Brett nearly has your pants off. You know, personally, I've always wondered, are you more dolphin or man down there? Or, wait, is it some kinda weird half and half thing? And what the hell would that even look like?"

Glenn snorted awake just as Reagan was throwing one of Gigi's phones out of a window. "Oh, great! Look who's finally back," she said with a glare. "I was going to wake you up with this laser, but Myc insisted that he could do it without dissolving you into antimatter." She, and everyone else in the room, looked at Myc. "So, what was he dreaming about? Anything related to this meeting?"

Myc didn't have eyes, but Glenn could sense he was looking at him. He shook his head surreptitiously, pleading with the sentient mushroom.

"Well, he was…in a battlefield, and…he was being very productive using your presentation tips. Just with more death."

Glenn felt a tentacle slide around his leg, the tip right at his inner thigh. He went to jump away but realized Myc was testing him. Plus, if he got up right now everyone would see the prominent bulge in the front of his pants, something that he'd normally have little concern with if it wasn't for the fact that Myc might have witnessed some of his daydream.

Reagan gave the two a suspicious squint before returning to her presentation, which Glenn quickly zoned out of once again. He needed to ascertain just what Myc had seen.

"So, uh… what did I miss while I was out?" Glenn muttered under his breath, trying to ignore the tentacle slowly sliding up and down his pant-clad thigh.

"I'm not sure," Myc replied in an equally quiet tone. 'I was listening to something much more interesting."

Shit. "Really? When did you start… uh… did you see the tanks and stuff? And the big explosions? I always dream about explosions, it's a condition."

"No explosions, no," Myc said, "'Cept I'm pretty sure there would've been if you'd stayed asleep longer." The tentacle was moving closer and closer to his crotch now… and his very hard, practically throbbing dolphin cock.

Glenn tried to surreptitiously shuffle away from Myc, but the numerous medals and pins on his jacket clinked at the slightest movement, drawing an irate glance from Raegan. So he remained where he was, trying to keep his breathing steady. "What did… did you see?"

"Some familiar people, actually," Myc hummed, slithering another tentacle around Glenn's right leg. Closer and closer they stroked…

"So I dream about murdering my friends, so what?"

"Didn't look like a murder to me… Actually, I don't think Brett could have been any friendlier. And Gigi was certainly giving your nipples some lo—"

"Shh!" Glenn hissed, glancing around at his bored coworkers. "Keep your mushroom shut or I'll—I… nngghhh…" He tensed up and let out a silent, strangled moan as Myc's tentacle finally coiled around his bulge, pulsing slowly in time with his erection, squeezing it and making him even harder.

"I thought as much," Myc chuckled. "You're even more turned on than that time Andre put you in Brett's body. So who is it?" As he continued fondling Glenn with one tentacle, another began snaking down the front of his pants, trailing over his slightly clammy, slightly moist skin. Another came up behind him, barely out of view of the others, and began tracing around the edge of his blowhole in an oddly erotic maneuver. "Is it Brett? His dashingly good looks, wonderful chest and incredible jawline? And you know how impressionable his mind is—you could make him do anything to you…"

Glenn gulped and chittered as quietly as he could.

"Or is it Raegan? She'd be a strong lover for sure, and I've read the kind of crazy things she's into. You'd blow your load several times over." The tentacle delving into Glenn's pants finally reached his throbbing rod. Indeed, it was rather dolphic in nature—curved, tapered and impressively long. It seemed somewhat flexible too, a discovery that gave Myc all sorts of ideas.

"How about Gigi, then? What a ride that would be. She knows all the best moves, all the most popular positions, and you can bet she'd put something on to watch while you two went to town." Myc was growing bolder now, more tentacles slithering around Glenn's lower half to tease the poor hybrid. It was only thanks to Reagan nearing the end of her presentation, growing increasingly boisterous as she did so, that the two weren't found out.

"Maybe it's Dr. Andre you lust after most of all. What a freak in the sheets he is! Just think of all the pharmaceuticals he could add to spice up your lovemaking." Myc felt the dolphin's dick jump in his tentacles and realized Glenn was getting close. He began coiling his tentacles faster, outright jerking him off.

"No? Well, that only leaves one guy. Or fungi. Ooh, that's it, isn't it?" One of Myc's tentacles pressed onto the head of Glenn's dick, opening up enough to encompass it in warm, soft wetness. The sensation was heavenly and Glenn nearly blew his load right then and there. "You want me, don't you? You want to be wrapped in my tentacles and milked for all your worth, right here in front of your coworkers. Don't lie. You can't lie to me, Gle—"

"Myc! Are you even listening!?" Reagan's irate voice cut through Myc's teasing, just seconds before Glenn blew his load. All of a sudden the tentacles slithered away, leaving Glenn bucking his hips into empty air.

"Yes, ma'am! You were… you were recapping your presentation about productivity in the workplace, the dangers of killing our staff and why we shouldn't use social media to send red alerts to other departments."

Reagan frowned. "...You just read that from my mind, didn't you?"

"Actually, you've still got the bullet points up on the board. Glenn and I were just… er, Glenn?"

The hybrid stood up, already half-turned to the door in a conspicuous attempt to hide his throbbing groin from his coworkers. "I'm going, er… away, for a sec. I need to… I've got that thing that veterans get because I also hate… war. So…" He then banged through the meeting room doors, as Reagan and the others stared after him.

"Well… I don't know whether to be insulted or complimented that my eight-step productivity plan just gave Glenn PTSD."

Myc rose to his full height and headed to the door. "I'm going to check on Glenn."

"We're not done yet! We've still got another hour!"

"But if he gets his hands on a gun and starts shooting that'll be very unproductive, right?"

Reagan paused. "I… uh, wow. You actually did listen. Alright, but don't be too long, I've got my flowcharts to show off yet."

Myc raced out the door, the groans of his coworkers loud behind him.

Glenn crashed into the men's bathroom with as much vigor as he had when he left the meeting room. His erection was pulsing in need, clearly tenting out his pants, and he'd received several odd looks on his rush over here—but he could deal with them later. Right now, he needed relief. He burst into the biggest stall he could see and shucked his pants, his hand immediately wrapping around his dick and going to town. He was gripping it like a weapon, and brandishing it with about as much force, but it was barely giving him any recompense. He tried throwing his shirt off too, tweaking his own nipple with one hand as he jerked himself harder and faster. He tried cupping his heavy, cum-filled balls, and thrusting into his own hand, and that was just starting to do the trick when something soft and wet slapped against the outside of the stall door.

"What in the… occupied! Use one of the other ones!" Glenn grunted, fumbling to get a good grip back on his dick. His anxiety was making it bend and twist with the limited articulation it had, practically dancing away from his hand.

"What are you doing in there?" Myc chimed in his smug voice. He'd tried to open the door himself, but his squishy tentacles weren't dextrous enough to work the tiny lock from the outside.

"Like you don't know." Glenn growled.

"Figured I've read your mind enough for today. Why don't you unlock the door so we can talk about what happened?"

"Nothing to talk about." Glenn said, finally getting a good, firm grasp of his dick and resuming pumping it. There was a long moment of quiet between the two, with just the sound of Glenn's hand pumping himself echoing around the otherwise empty bathroom. Then…

"Not doing it for you, huh?"

"Shut it. I just take a while to… get into it. Anyway, you said you were going to cool it on the mind reading."

"I say a lot of things." One of Myc's tentacles was slowly reaching under the door of the stall and rising up to the lock. "You don't have to be embarrassed about your dream, you know. To tell you the truth, I was honored to be a part of it."

"Really?" Glenn's hand paused on his dick. He hadn't noticed the fungi's intrusion yet.

"Well, no. You'd be surprised how many people's daydreams I feature in. But still, you interest me. And I think we can make an arrangement. A 'tit-for-tat, I scratch your back, you scratch mine' kinda thing."

"Do you even have a back?" Glenn inquired.

"Well, I have a stem. Basically the same thing, right? Anywho, it's just a figure of speech, don't get hung up on it."

"Tch… whatever. I know blackmail when I hear it." Glenn grumbled. "I did it a lot back in the military. Only way you could get promoted to general."

"I would never." Myc drawled. "Now look straight ahead, would you?"

"Wh—hey! Get your floppy noodle out of my stall!"

Myc's tentacle found the lock and he flicked it, pulling the door open and skittering inside. "Thanks. Needed your sight to find that." He pulled the door shut behind him, forcing him to half-mount Glenn so they could both fit in. His tentacles were everywhere, including around the dolphin hybrid's very hard, leaking cock. "Now, ready to hear me out?"

Glenn frowned thunderously, wishing he still carried around his old pistol. "Don't have much choice."

"Look, I know you've been getting pent up at work. I see it at every one of our meetings." Myc wiggled slowly in his lap, another tentacle slowly running up and down his chest. "And I can't blame you, we're all very attractive beings. Plus, Reagan's there too, and she can be cute sometimes. But I don't think the bathroom's a very safe place to relieve yourself, do you? Er…" Myc's tentacle tapped the tapered head of Glenn's dick, making it jump. "Relieve yourself as in jerking off, I mean."

"I got that."

At that moment, the bathroom door swung open outside the stall with a loud bang and several voices wafted in, crowding around one of the urinals.

"See what I mean?" Myc whispered. "I can tell you need to cum bad, but how are you gonna do it around here?"

The mushroom was right, as much as Glenn hated to admit it. And he really did need to cum, and soon, or he was worried his balls would explode. He was so close, he just had to finish himself off.

Without realizing it, his hands were encircling his member again, and Myc quietly chuckled. "You really can't help yourself, huh?"

"I'm just… once I… hah…. Nnggh…" Glenn huffed and puffed incoherently as he got closer and closer to his climax… Closer, closer… It was like jerking off in this stall with Myc, along with knowing that people were just outside, was making him even more excited. Almost there… Just a few more and he'd—

Myc's tentacles pulled Glenn's hands away seconds before he came. The dolphin whined, his pelvis thrusting in the empty air between them as his cock bobbed back and forth, throbbing violently, desperate for release as a string of vicious pre-cum leaked from the hybrid's cocktip.

"Dude, what the fuck was that?" Grunted a voice from outside.

"I dunno… sounded like a dolphin… imagine that!"

"Hey, are you alright in there? My friend said you sound like a dolphin!"

Myc tilted his mushroom at Glenn, who was still panting at his near-orgasm. He cleared his throat and began saying, "I'm fine, just… had a bad lunch…" when Myc's tentacle suddenly touched the very tip of his dick and he seized up, jerking around on the seat and emitting a series of loud, dolphin chirps. One more touch, just one more, and he'd explode.

"Jesus, man, that's weird as hell. Come on, boys, let's compare sizes somewhere else."

The bathroom door swung open with a bang and then closed again, leaving them alone. Glenn's face was red and flushed. Myc patted him on the cheek.

"See? Not safe."

"I… nnggh… hate you…" he gasped.

"Hate me all you want, but I've got something you need. Somewhere private, nearby, and the very last place anyone would come looking for you when you get the… urge."

"Wh-where?" Glenn croaked, pelvis still thrusting in the air.

"My quarters. And not only that, but what with getting milked twice a day, you can bet I know a thing or two about pleasure. So, I'll help you, whenever you want. Your own… personal milking machine. How does that sound?"

Myc's tentacle was hovering centimeters away from Glenn's pulsing member, so close the dolphin could feel the shift in the air above it. His mind was in turmoil, trying to make a decision but so desperate for release that he could barely think. "You'll… you'll let me… haaah… jerk off in your room?"

"And help you do it."

"I… wh-what about… now?" Glenn managed between pants.

"How about I let you cum onto one of my tentacles? No mess and pleasurable as hell."

"Do it." Glenn gasped.

Myc coiled his tentacle around the outside of Glenn's dick, just barely not touching him, yet just as he was about to make contact he stopped once again. "Just one more thing."

Glenn practically howled in frustration. "Anything."

"I get to mess with you, whenever I want, wherever I want. And if you go back on your word, I'll tell everyone about your little dreams, and this latest fiasco. Got it?"

Glenn gulped. He could hardly accept that… but then, he wasn't exactly in a position to refuse. He let out another gasp. "Fine."

"Good pet." Myc cooed, and then his tentacle wrapped around Glenn's dick, eliciting a yip of sweet, shocking pleasure. A tide of hot dolphin spunk poured over Myc's undulating tentacle, the fungi's soft flesh coaxing more and more cum out. "I know you can't help yourself… the dolphin in you just can't get enough of this, can it?" His other tentacles surrounded the hybrid in an almost tender embrace, but there was never any question of letting go—for all intents and purposes, Glenn's cock belonged to him now. "It must be so hard to be teased… so I guess I can treat you. For now."

An impressively voluminous load of sticky cum later, Glenn let out a gasp and fell back onto the seat of the latrine, gasping great post-orgasm breaths of air. A few contented whistles escaped his blowhole as Myc opened the cubicle door, tucking his tentacle under him to give it some time to absorb Glenn's load. The last thing he needed was someone questioning him about the white cloud slowly drifting up one of his arms.

"Best orgasm you've had in a long time, huh?"

"It was alright." Glenn panted.

"You keep forgetting I can read your mind. Actually, everyone does. You really think they'd bring it up more often." Myc regarded Glenn with smug satisfaction. "Now don't forget your end of the bargain. Whenever I want to tease you, wherever I want to tease you, and you're never going to say a thing about it. Got it?"

Glenn quietly nodded and closed his eyes as he leant back, suddenly tired.

"Good. I'll see you on Monday, Flipper."

Monday

Glenn entered the building early. He was feeling good. He'd had a satisfying row with his ex-wife, blown up some rabbits tunneling beneath his house, and jerked off six times over the weekend. It had taken him some time after waking up in the bathroom cubicle to remember exactly what had happened, and longer still to accept that he had indeed agreed to let Magic Myc, the horny mushroom fuck, touch his dick whenever he so pleased. But once he came to terms with it, he made preparations—which mostly consisted of tiring out his libido as much as possible. And he'd done such a good job of it that he was pretty sure he could even make it through one of Reagan's impromptu productivity meetings without drifting off.

He'd also put on some extra-tight bike shorts. No way was Myc getting one of his squishy tentacles into those.

"Mornin'," he grunted at Brett, who, of course, was already in the meeting room.

"Glenn! But it's 8:30… are you hurt? Don't tell me those offshore poachers tried to net you again!"

He shook his head. "Just had a good weekend. How about you?"

"Oh! Er, well, I went out to—"

"Good to hear." Glenn cut in. He sat in his seat and stared at the whiteboard, where the remnants of Reagan's pep talk last week suggested an irate coworker had, at some point, snapped and taken to it with an eraser. What did people do when they got to work early? Or even on time… The rest of his coworkers were habitually late. Even Myc, who pretty much lived in the facility.

"Glenn? What are you doing here?"

Speak of the devil. "Myc. Good morning."

"Hey, screw you, Devil Mushrooms are shrimpy little red bastards. They don't have my wonderful round cap." Myc ran a tentacle over his head. "And don't get me started o—hey! You… cheater!"

That's right, I'm thinking it loud and clear for you. Bike. Shorts. With extra padding.

"What's going on?" Asked an exceptionally confused Brett. Then again, he was often confused whenever his coworkers opened their mouths or sound-holes.

"Just a deal we had." Myc growled. "And Glenn's taking liberties. But that's fine, I can work around it." He walked around behind Glenn, pausing to do something before sitting down next to the smug hybrid. Under the table, a curious tentacle slipped over his thigh and tentatively prodded the front of Glenn's shorts, before finding the extra padding made them practically impenetrable. He removed the tentacle, and they sat in silence until the rest of their team waltzed in nearly an hour later.

"Jeez, it's freezing out there." Dr. Andre complained as he sat down and rubbed his arms.

"Get some heating on before I freeze!" Gigi urged. "I've got a date with Bailey up in Financing and the last thing I need is him flicking a nipple off."

"You guys are wimps." Reagan drawled, but acquiesced and turned the meeting room heating up to max. "It's weird, all the hallway thermostats are broken but everywhere else is fine. If it's an outside attack, it's a really bad one."

"I wonder how that could have happened…" Myc said.

Over the next hour, the room grew steadily hotter, and with it, Glenn grew increasingly uncomfortable. Bike shorts were not meant for sitting still in hot climates, especially not with several layers of homemade wool padding. He was sweating profusely, but any attempt to change the temperature was met with shouts from his coworkers.

"Feeling alright there?" Myc asked sweetly.

"Shut it." Glenn told him.

By the time Reagan was explaining their newest task—to reintegrate organic birds into America's cities and then run them over to dispel rumors of robotic avian spies—Glenn couldn't take it anymore. He stood up, a little puddle of sweat beneath him. "I gotta get out of here."

"Don't you dare open that door!" Reagan growled. "It's even colder here now than it was earlier! If you open that door, you'll ice us out! What's wrong?"

"Pants." Glenn gasped.

"Pants?"

"He's wearing bike shorts." Myc said, as if that explained everything. "If he doesn't get them off, he'll overheat. Glenn, get behind those servos and take them off."

Glenn shot him a furious glare, but nonetheless padded behind them. A small bout of swearing and grunting followed, before Myc let out a laugh.

"They're so tight, he can't get them off. Excuse me, I'd better help the poor guy out."

When Myc rounded the servo, Glenn was on his back desperately trying to pull the pants over his hips, flopping about like a fish out of water. "Fuck you, this is your fault."

"Me? I'm entirely innocent," Myc said. "I'm gonna need to lube you out of this, hang on." He drew a tentacle beneath them, then slapped it down on a small segment of Glenn's exposed belly. The dolphin shrieked at the sudden coldness.

"What in the hell is that?!"

"You don't wanna know. It's great for sex, though. Not that we're doing anything lewd!" Myc added louder, for the benefit of his coworkers nearby. Glenn glared at him again, but his expression quickly grew into… something else… as Myc began working his pants slowly downward. The fungi's tentacles all worked as one, simultaneously pulling on the shorts, smothering more of Glenn's flesh in slippery lube, and leisurely stroking his thighs up and down. Every stroke brought him closer to Glenn's hardening cock, but he never touched it. Somehow, that just made it more erotic.

Finally, Glenn slipped free and fell back on the floor, cock bobbing up and down. Knowing that the shoulder-height servos were all that was preventing his coworkers seeing his arousal made him even harder. He couldn't understand it—he'd orgasmed thrice yesterday, why was he already so desperate for release?

"I… uh… need to use your quarters," he grumbled to Myc.

"It sure looks like it. That'll teach you to try and cross me again," the fungi said as he continued stroking his tentacle up Glenn's thigh. When he reached his stomach, he curled it around, just inches away from Glenn's dick, but refrained from touching it. The dolphin needed to be taught a lesson. "Well, too bad, ya can't leave until the heating's fixed. Now wrap your shorts around your waist and get back out there. And I'm gonna touch you as much as I want, got it?"

"Got it…" Glenn sighed.

Tuesday

Glenn came in the next day feeling much less confident. He'd endured six hours of relentless teasing yesterday, and the heating had ended up being fixed at the very end of it. He made a beeline back home and relieved himself there, and while it helped, it almost wasn't enough. He found himself longing for Myc's touch, as irritable as that thought made him feel.

"Morning, Glenn!" Myc chimed as the dolphin barged into the meeting room. He was back to being late again, but at least the room was a habitable temperature. He'd also returned to his normal pants, but he'd at least put a belt on.

"Mngh." Glenn grunted.

"Ready for a hard day's work?" Myc said. "Or are you going to take it slow and give yourself time to build up to something?"

Glenn didn't even honor that with a response as they sat down. Suddenly, without warning, a tentacle wrapped around the hybrid's leg and coiled upward. It didn't take long to pull his belt off, a jingle and clink that everyone heard, but no one mentioned.

Thirty minutes later and Glenn was excusing himself, rushing to Myc's quarters.

Wednesday

Glenn was tired. He'd spent all night jerking off, or at least trying to. It was hardly giving him any pleasure now—what he really needed was a good rutting. But even hookers had standards, apparently, because the moment he'd open the door and show his face they'd run off screaming. He wondered if he could perhaps borrow Brett's face again.

At least there'd be something to keep his mind occupied today. Arms training. Every month, he'd stand in front of Cognito Inc's latest recruits and demonstrate the numerous ways to absolutely decimate a target. He'd instructed the firing dummies to be filled with pig's blood this time, just to make it extra enjoyable.

He couldn't wait. Just him, guns and some violent youth. His idea of heaven, really.

"Hey there, partner."

Or hell. "What are you doing here?" He growled at Myc, who was examining the impressive collection of firearms.

"On Reagan's orders. Apparently, your last lot of recruits were a bit too trigger happy with their toys and massacred a peaceful delegation of visiting aliens."

"Really? Wonderful! She must be pleased."

"Normally, yes, but remember what she was saying about productivity and not killing potential partners? So I'm here to help with the safety briefing."

Glenn was outraged. "Safety? Why the hell do we need safety training for guns?! You can buy them at Walmart! Which is thanks to me, as you well know."

Myc raised his tentacles. "Not my orders. Now shh, here they come."

The briefing hall they'd borrowed was quickly filling up with a variety of lumpy youth, mostly high-school dropouts. Cognito's primary recruitment plan involved steadily increasing the passing grade of America's schools. Kids desperately looking for work and unable to understand legal jargon were perfect for the frontlines. Before Glenn could say a word, Myc kicked the presentation off.

"Alright, guys and gals! I'm Myc! Yes, I'm a mushroom. Yes, I can read minds. And yes, I can visualize that 900 gigabyte folder of porn you're now all thinking about! …You guys have some crazy imaginations, lemme tell ya. And yes, I will take copies of them all once you get briefed. Now, I know you're all eager to get shooting, but there's a mandatory gun safety demonstration presentation first."

There was a unanimous groan from their audience as Myc pushed Glenn forward, shoved an energy rifle into his hands and then stood inappropriately close behind him, a tentacle on his butt keeping him from running away.

When the din piped down, Glenn tried to remember what the protocol for gun safety was. "Er, right. Well, obviously, don't point a charged rifle at someone unless you intend to kill someone, or they're being a butt. And if you do shoot someone, make sure you get them in the teeth, because dental records are a thing."

"What about cleaning?" Myc whispered as another tentacle reached around Glenn, almost in an embrace, to tap the rifle's battery.

Glenn tried to wriggle out of the fungi's grip, but with fifty-four bored teens sitting in front of him, he didn't want to cause a scene. "Erm… okay. Well, this is the battery. Don't get it wet. This is the coupling for the battery, don't get that wet either."

"And don't stick your dick in it." Myc reminded everyone. "As much as you might like sticking your dick in things, or getting dicks stuck into your things, don't do it."

"Thank you, Myc." Glenn hissed. "At the other end is the barrel, you can attach a volt suppressor if you're around flammables, but that's for pussies."

"Show them how to clean it."

"I don't have a cloth."

"Here." A cloth appeared in Myc's tentacle, waving in front of him. Glenn gulped and gingerly took it, and the tentacle promptly wrapped around his wrist. Unable to stop the fungi, Glenn's hand was guided to the barrel and wrapped around it, stroking it up and down.

What the fuck…

"I know it's turning you on. Concentrate now, we don't want you getting a boner in front of a bunch of sexed-up young adults."

Glenn's jaw tightened. One of Myc's tentacles was rubbing his ass slowly, just out of sight of their audience, while another held him at his hip, inches from his dick, and another was making him jerk off a gun. He really was getting hard.

"And if you rub it faster," Myc told the crowd, "You can get it extra clean!" He forced Glenn to do just that, another tentacle slid down the back of the dolphin's pants and between his legs, coming up to play with his balls, right in front of everyone, only a single layer of fabric hiding them. Glenn's legs were feeling wobbly.

"And finally, if you need to add a bit of shine to your gun, you can wet it down with a bit of pre—"

Fuck! Glenn broke free of Myc's grip and stumbled off stage, only barely making it behind the curtain before shucking his pants and going to town on his dick, desperate for any release.

Myc chuckled and threw the rifle to one of the teens. "Oh, whatever. None of you are listening, anyway. Go play with the guns and Glenn will be with you shortly."

Thursday

Glenn couldn't take it anymore. Three days and he hadn't cum once. Trying to resist his urges didn't work, jerking off did nothing now… he was at his limit, so there was only one option left. He had to fuck Myc.

"Morning, Glenn! Remember that presentation we had the other day? Well, I've got some great news! The kids loved it and most of them survived!"

"Myc, I need a word."

"Anything you need to say to me, you can say here."

I'm begging you, Glenn silently urged.

Glenn had never begged before, and Myc knew it. "...Then again, if it's about the, uh, super secret program we were talking about, it's better that we keep it under wraps until it's… ready. So I'll just… see you guys later." Myc followed Glenn out of the room and all the way to his quarters. Once there, Glenn pulled him in and locked the door.

Despite his eagerness, Glenn hesitated once the two were behind closed doors. Women, though he hadn't had one for a while, were easy enough to figure out. Guys too; in fact, they were even easier, since he could just go straight for the dick. But a living, conscious fungi? A giant mushroom-topped creature that'd been teasing him for the past week? Where the hell could he start with that?

Myc's mind-reading ability came in handy. "Why don't you lie down and let me take the lead? Just for now, I promise," he said soothingly, leading Glenn to a wide lounge that was inexplicably bolted to the wall. Had Myc had it put in just for him? He didn't know, but he was also too horny to care, and so he let Myc set him down on the couch. Almost immediately, tentacles were all over him.

"Boy, have I been waiting for a chance to have you all to myself," Myc murmured as he felt his way up and down Glenn's soft, slightly oily skin. He actually quite liked it, not that he'd admit it. He found Glenn's body different enough from his own gelatinous tentacles to be exotic and sexy, but not enough to be like the dryish, flaky skin of the humans he'd occasionally had the misfortune of bedding. He also adored groping Glenn's chest; it had the softness and jigglyness of your stereotypical alcoholic and middle-aged man, but a firm understructure that revealed a history of hard work in the military. Glenn's nipples, which remained proud and hard on his pecs despite his dolphin genetics, poked through his top enough that Myc could flick them curiously with a tentacle. The action elicited a gasp, and the veteran whistled quietly in need, hips raising up off the lounge.

"Sorry, I got a bit distracted," Myc hummed and brought his tentacles down to Glenn's pants, taking one more moment to enjoy the dolphin's surprisingly ample rump. He hooked the loops of the pants and popped the button, slowly sliding them down Glenn's hips. Every inch downward made the veteran's breath grow shorter and shallower in anticipation. He wasn't wearing underwear, and Myc enjoyed the sight of Glenn's dolphin dick gradually revealing itself, still pushed down by the pants and pulsing in need. A few inches more and it suddenly bounced up into the air, slapping against his belly.

"Fuck… can you hurry up already? I'm… ngh… sick of all this teasing crap," Glenn gasped.

"Can't help it, you're so sexy when you're hot and bothered." Myc smirked. But he acquiesced, bringing a tentacle forward and enveloping the dolphin's thick, throbbing cock. He took it all the way in with one thrust and Glenn slammed a fist down by his side.

"Ah, crap, that's the stuff…" He gripped the backrest of the lounge with his other hand, beginning to pump his hips in time with Myc's sucking. He couldn't properly describe the feeling of getting his dick pumped by a mushroom's tentacle; the best he could equate it to was fucking a living tube of jelly that was firm yet soft, cool yet warm, and flexible yet forceful.

Myc's other tentacles, at least the ones that weren't keeping him upright, encircled Glenn again. One of them returned to his chest, feeling up and down it, sliding into his shirt and tweaking his nipple. Another slid to his check, lightly tapping his cheek, while one more coiled underneath Glenn's bouncing hips, prodding between his buttcheeks.

"Wha-hey, what're you—aaaGGH! Aah, fuck, that's… ngggh… shit!" Glenn was frozen in place, butt off the lounge and fully thrusted into Myc's tentacle, as his ass was penetrated. He couldn't believe how… how good it felt. He was the one that fucked asses, not the other way around, but Myc's tentacle… it was just the right size for him, and already lubed. And as flexible as it was, he could feel it already beginning to wiggle its way deeper, sending little jolts of pleasure through his body.

"Pretty good, having a friend who can multitask, isn't it?" Myc chuckled, returning to work. "How about you? Can you do two things at once?"

"What're yo—mmpphfhff, hanggh!" Halfway through his question, Glenn's mouth was invaded as well, by a tentacle that seemed slightly different from the others. This one was even thicker, wetter, hotter… and the copious fluid dripping from its tips was delicious. He gasped when Myc slid it back out. "What the hell was that?"

"I guess that's my dick," Myc shrugged, still fucking, and getting fucked by, his friend.

"Your what? I thought you got milked outta all these things," Glenn grunted, reaching around to coax more of the fungi's tentacle into his ass.

"Technically, yes, all of these are my genitals. But not all of them are as fertile as the others. I save this one for special occasions. You know it's got pheromones in it, right?" He lightly slapped his 'dick' against Glenn's cheek, a few drops of sweet-smelling mushroom-sperm-equivalent dripping down.

Glenn stuck out his tongue and lapped it up. It was delicious, but he doubted it was just the pheromones making him do it. He was so desperately horny, he could jump a turkey, and this was only a little bit more weird. And so, with a loud slurp, he started sucking on the pulsing cockticle.

"Ah, fuck, that's even better than your ass!" Myc moaned. He had nerves in all his tentacles, sure, but there were more than a hundred million clusters inside Glenn's slurping mouth right now, and it was setting him ablaze with pleasure from tip to cap.

"Awwl thwart hime 'asted on thweasing ee." Glenn murmured between swallowing down Myc's spurting dick. "Thwen we cooth'af 'een thucking!"

Myc felt Glenn grab one of his tentacles, just a bit too tight but nothing he couldn't handle, and start thrusting into it even deeper. "W-was that last bit… nggh, sucking or fucking?" He couldn't read Glenn's mind for the answer; all the dolphin was thinking about right now was how good everything was feeling. Glenn, however, simply shrugged and wiggled his butt.

Myc withdrew. From Glenn's ass, mouth, and off his cock. The dolphin stared at him. "Hey, what the fuck?"

Two tentacles grabbed him by the arms, flipped him over the couch, and pulled his ass in the air. Glenn's little dolphin tail wagged in the cutest display of outrage Myc had ever seen.

"What the hell are you doing? Gimme back those tenta—aaa—aaahh!" Glenn's protest turned into a long, orgasmic exclamation as Myc resumed his pleasurable assault on all three fronts. Only now, he swapped some things around. Determined to enjoy himself as much as the dolphin clearly was, Myc thrust his thicker, spunk-dripping tentacle right into Glenn's quivering ass, its slightly bulbous head rubbing his friend in all the right places. Another tentacle outright deepthroated Glenn, muffling his moan as it coiled down his throat. And finally, his tentacle returned to sucking, even more vivaciously, on his twisting dolphin dick. Glenn was suspended slightly off the couch by Myc's tentacles, meaning he could finally thrust properly into the pulsing tentacle around his cock, which he took full advantage of. His mind was absent of any decodable thought, providing Myc a rare internal silence that he used to fully enjoy the wonderful experience.

For several more minutes they fucked, getting harder and faster and rougher. They'd both expected Glenn to not last long, considering he'd been facing a week of teasing. But as if determined to enjoy it for as long as possible, he instead managed to hold on as long as the fungi. And so it was together that their motions became jerky, their breath became short (or at least Myc's version of it), and their moans became louder.

"Inff onna… c-uuhngg." Glenn grunted.

"What?"

"Inff onna uunggh!"

Myc pulled his tentacle out of Glenn's panting mouth. "You're gonna what!? I can't understand you, I'm about to—''

"C-ccummm!" Glenn moaned, and shot a thick, hot, sticky, delicious load into Myc. At the same time, Myc's most sensitive tentacle, buried deep in Glenn's ass, blasted as well, spurting rope after rope of warm fungi-spunk deep into the dolphin's gut. They came and came together, rhythmically, each spurt matching the other's in an almost romantic display. When they both finally came down, cum leaking from each other's holes, they collapsed in a heap of limbs and tentacles.

"Fucking fuck." Breathed Glenn.

"That was amazing," murmured Myc. "I need to screw dolphins more often, your insides are so… so slick. You must have an experienced ass, I got nearly half my tentacle in."

Glenn didn't tell him he was a virgin in that respect. Didn't want to give him the bragging rights. "I can't believe you walk around on your penis. Doesn't that hurt?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm built differently than you," the fungi said, lazily reaching over and rubbing Glenn's deflating cock. "Not as fragile."

Glenn hummed at the touch. He was already growing hard again. He hadn't felt this virile since divorcing Dolores.

"You want to go again already!?" Myc exclaimed. "My spunk isn't endless, you know. And it goes for five thousand a bottle—you should be paying me for this privilege."

"I thought we had a deal," Glenn said. "You got to act out your lewd fantasies… now it's my turn." He got up, straddling Myc and spreading out his tentacles. "And you can bet I'm going on top this time. And I'm taking as long as I want."

Friday

Reagan was heading down to ROBOTUS' room, binder pinned to her side with her elbow. She was facing another clone breakout in one of Cognito's rural offices—apparently, the clone machines themselves had gained sentience and were cloning other cloning machines. It was quite the pickle, and she figured if anyone knew how to deal with insane, psychopathic AI, it was ROBOTUS. And with a binder containing several episodes of the second season of Friends, there was no way he'd deny her.

Gigi and Dr. Andre were doing their best to help, and Brett was… well, he was being Brett. But someone else Reagan needed was Glenn, in case the situation became a combative one. But neither she nor the rest of the team had seen him or Myc after Thursday morning. As Andre had put it, they were either killing each other or fucking.

And there's no way they're screwing, Reagan thought. How would that even work?

She was just about to reach the elevators when she passed by a janitorial closest and the door burst open. A great mess of tentacles and suspicious-looking white stuff spilled out, along with an exhausted plea.

"Glenn! I need a break, it's been hours!"

"I'm not done yet!" A very naked, very erect Glenn Dolphman strode out, reaching down to grab his exhausted victim. He spotted Reagan and paused. "Oh, er, hi Rae. How's Cognito doing?"

"Disastrously, actually."

"Darn. Wanna join in?"

"No!"

"Even bigger darn. Alright, Myc, let's go again."

And as Raegan stared, bemused, Glenn pulled Myc back into the closet and shut the door.