Milton needed his job, even though it was barely minimum wage. His boss Mr Hopkins used some bullshit about Milton technically not legally being allowed to hold the position of Security Guard as a way of paying Milton less than he should.
He was one of half a dozen Security Guards for the Mall that Mr Hopkins owned and ran. Now Mr Hopkins was very hands on, you could ask the girls at the make-up counter for proof. Heād sometimes follow workers around just to make sure they were doing their jobs. Heād dock wages at the drop of a hat and even fire people very loudly and very publicly.
Milton though seemed to be on Mr Hopkins good side. He did all the hours he needed too. Heād even do more when offered, even though Mr Hopkins would pay him at half the normal rate. Milton was brisk and polite when he patrolled the mall, he was very vigilant when he was in the security camera control room and he was also fearless when ordering people around.
The thing was Milton wasnāt what youād expect for a security guard. Heād said on his application he was a few months shy of 18, which was lie, he was over 12 months away from 18.
Milton was short, chest level on most average people. Heād even ended up staring into the stomachs of some huge people who decided to use the five fingers discount on some goods.
He was skinny, almost skeletal, not that he hadnāt tried to gain weight. Instead all the fatty food he ate to put meat on his bones had left him struggling to breath when he chased thieves through the store. Milton had the looks, voice and natural authority of the squeaky voiced guy in the Simpsons who seemed to hold ever minimum wage job.
But Milton didnāt know that Mr Hopkins actually liked Milton, or he actually liked Miltonās work ethic and cheapness. Which was why one day Milton found himself as the only security guard in the Mall when Mr Hopkins purged the other staff.
āMiltonā Mr Hopkins said getting Milton when he arrived for his shift
āUmmmā¦helloā¦Mr Hopkins, sirā Milton muttered nervously
Mr Hopkins smiled, though it looked more like a sneer. He slapped a chubby hand on Miltonās back and guided him deeper into the backroom employee area of the mall.
They came to the security office. It looked a little like a police station, there was an interview room, an office and a front desk for complaints and form filing to take place. It was empty and there were no signs of the various personal items the other guards left around to brighten up the place.
āWhere is everyoneā¦.sirā Milton asked stuttering
Mr Hopkins laughed āYou are everyone boy, a one man security voiceā
āWhatā Milton said stepping away from Mr Hopkins
He knew Mr Hopkins was a money pincher, but it had never gone beyond watering down soda till it was little more than actual water, or replacing all the toilet paper with stuff that would fall apart the second it touched the natural grease on peopleās fingers. Now heād cut an entire department to one man, a department that retained order in the small city sized mall.
āDonāt fearā Mr Hopkins said āYouāll do fine, you remind me of myselfā¦ just you knowā¦. poor.ā
With that insult Mr Hopkins offered Milton a golden shield. It read Chief of Security. Milton blinded by the gold and the promise of a raise in his pay packet that Mr Hopkins hadnāt said or wouldnāt even consider took the shield from Mr Hopkins chubby heavily ringed hand.
Milton with a smile on his bespectacled face pinned the badge to the chest pocket of his light blue button up shirt.
āLooks goodā Mr Hopkins said with a nod āFeels good doesnāt it, rising up the ladder of industry.ā
Milton was too busy admiring his new shield to hear the very quick mention Mr Hopkins made under his breath about how there would be no change in pay or benefits even though Milton was tonically now a head of department.
āSo what do I do?ā Milton asked confused at his new position
Mr Hopkins clicked his tongue āWellā¦ first youāll have to undergo retraining, which should happenā¦.ā he checked his Rolex āright aboutā¦..now.ā
Before Milton could ask what Mr Hopkins meant the shield pinned to his chest grew hot and Miltonās skin started to prickle. He gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, with a shaking hand he steadied himself on the security reception desk.
Milton croaked out a groan of pain, his shoes were suddenly very tight, the black leather beginning to split. The tightness ran up his pants, the black fabric choking his calves, thighs and ass. Then his shirt, the buttons started to strain as Miltonās caved-in chest pumped outwards.
His fingers dug into the reception desk as his grip turned into a vice, his forearm thickening into a meaty trunk of muscle.
The sleeves of Miltonās shirt screamed as his biceps doubled, then tripled in size. The sleeves beginning to tear, taunt swollen muscle flesh forcing the poor shirt apart.
Even Miltonās glasses snapped slightly as Miltonās face changed. It turned square, his bone structured hardening and gaining a pants-wetting level of natural authority. His sandy hair pulled into his scalp. More hair though forced its way across Miltonās new anvil like jaw, giving him a rich morning stubble look.
A burning pain shot over his right arm, Milton gasped in a strange booming bass and with the hand that had been crushing the edge of the reception desk he gripped his meaty bicep as the pain subsided. Beneath his hand Milton found the emblem of a shield with Rent-A-Cop written across it had been tattooed to his bicep. Beneath the Rent-A-Cop logo it read Elite Package.
āLooks very goodā Mr Hopkins mused āWorth every cent.ā
Milton was still in shock, his hands feeling the ridges of eight solid bricks beneath his shirt. The shield was cooling down now, though a small burst of heat erupted from the shield before it turned back into the cold golden metal it was when Milton first held it.
The final burst of activity from the shield reformed Miltonās now much too small clothes. His pants clung tight to his thighs and hugged the curve of Miltonās heavy muscle glutes. His shirt tucked itself into his pants, pulling itself tight against the cliff of Miltonās flat stomach, till it shot out over the ridge of his pec muscles.
Milton flexed a bicep just as the sleeves repaired themselves. Cleverly this meant that when Milton relaxed his 26 inch monster bicep the sleeve was just a little looser, so he wasnāt risking torn sleeves once he started his patrol.
āThis is amazingā Milton exclaimed once his excitement had died down a little.
Mr Hopkins just gave his greasy smile āWas a great, no, excellent move on my partā
He waved his hands at Milton āLook at you, no one is gonna mess with my mall, with a mother fucker like you walking around.ā
Milton beamed, his smile though didnāt look friendly, more like a predator bearing his teeth before a kill.
āNow, Iāll give you five minutes to get used to this bodyā Mr Hopkins said like he was gifting Milton the world āThen I want you on patrol, I have to call Rent-A-Cop, they didnāt send the baton I orderedā
Milton watched his boss leave, one of Miltonās massive meaty hands pulling at the crotch of his pants, Milton didnāt think the Rent-A-Cop baton was what Mr Hopkins thought it was.
