The Coven Coin 11: The Other Side

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George and Paul were walking to solitary confinement. George slowed his pace to allow Paul’s shorter stride to catch up. The squeaks from his shiny size 8 shoes echoed in the hall. “New shoes?” George joked. Paul nodded. “I’m glad to see you in a proper fitting uniform today. I noticed you’ve been wearing those oversized ones again. Did the warden say something to you?”

Paul’s stomach twisted, but his face hid his emotions. He made a deal with George not discuss his shrinking body. It didn’t do any good anyway. “No, he didn’t have to this time.” Paul was wearing the medium shirt he bought yesterday. He probably could squeeze into a small at this point; but refused to go there. It was bad enough he had gone down five shirt sizes in eight weeks. His proportions were that of an average, yet fit man now. He no longer had to buy oversized clothes to accommodate his massive musculature. The off the rack shirt not only covered his 38” chest and 14” arms nicely but also his 26” waist. There was no voluminous excessive material gathered under his belt. This held true with his bottom half too. His new 26w x 28i pants hugged his waist as well as his ass and thighs. He actually had to buy the trousers in the boys section. Women and boys, not grown men have 26” waists. He remembered his arms once had the same circumference. It was only two months ago, but it seemed so much longer.

When Paul tried the pants on in the store’s dressing room the front was perfectly flat. His man bulge was gone. He had hoped the closer fit would bring it out again. Of course, not much was there to show off. He palmed his crotch and tired to pull it forward. But soon as he let go it receded from view. He palmed his goods again and squeezed it repeatedly. He felt no rush. The smaller it got the less sensitive it seemed to become. He remembered when all it took was a slight breeze to get him hard. He realized it had been almost two weeks since he had even masturbated. That was the longest vacation his prostate’s had since puberty. Before the change, he couldn’t go half a day with having to empty his bloated spunk canteens. Back then he didn’t have to go solo either; someone was always more than willing to help him get off. Today his body was unwilling and his desire nonexistent.

He stepped out of the garment and looked at the label. The word Boys on the label caused him physical pain. He looked in the dressing room mirror. His short stature and cuter facial features made him look younger and more feminine. He rubbed his face and felt baby smooth skin. For the past three days he didn’t have to shave because his bread growth had slowed so dramatically. Wearing only baggy tighty-whities and black socks, Paul realized that was exactly what he looked like, a prepubescent boy. His testosterone levels must have plummeted. His small frame and slight build didn’t require the mega doses his hulking body once demanded. It wasn’t like his pea size balls could produce it anyway. When he got home from shopping, Paul hung his new work clothes in the bedroom closet and placed his shoes neatly underneath. Next to his old custom tailored 3XL shirt, 34x40 pants and 16EEE shoes, his latest purchases looked even more childlike. He wanted to cry, but found he was all cried out. His body couldn’t produce tears either.

George looked down at Paul. “You middleweights have the best proportions. When on stage alone, you’re like the ideal men; a living David. It’s a shame you get lost when standing next to the big boys. You may not be able to take the overall title; but at least you can have the satisfaction of knowing you’re the best built little guy in the region.” Paul kept his eyes forward. The twisting in his stomach got worse. George sensed Paul’s tension. “You cool seeing Tiny again?” Paul didn’t respond as he concentrated on not vomiting. George stopped and grabbed his coworkers well toned arm. “I don’t know what went down in his cell that day; but he’s done his time. Three weeks in the hole can fuck with any one’s head. He may say things to get under your skin. You have to be a professional. Okay, Powwow?” Paul shook his head. “That’s my boy.” George tousled Paul’s shaggy hair with his fingers as if he was a child. Paul forced down the upwelling of bile.

Simon was standing by the steel door. When he saw George and Paul approaching, he bent down to the narrow slot used to feed the prisoner. “I’m opening the door. Step as far back as possible.” George and Paul stood nearby as Simon unlocked the door. The door opened with a soft breeze. It blew a strange odor into their faces. The aroma was a combination of man, musk and ammonia. Simon coughed before he took a step into the small space. Suddenly he froze in place. Paul and George looked at each other not sure what their colleague was doing.

“Simon, is every thing all right?” George finally asked.

Simon turned his head toward George. He looked almost frightened. He swallowed hard, “Yeah, I just forgot what he looked like.” He looked back into the cell. The mattress was covered in countless yellow stains, leaving no doubt how Tim spent his days and nights in the confined space. “Why don’t you step outside, Ttttiny.”

“What are you doing? You’re supposed to cuff him first.” George was surprised by the break in procedure.

Simon took several steps back keeping his eyes on the prisoner. “I don’t think there’s room for the two of us in there.” Tim emerged from the chamber. He had to twist his torso to get his shoulders through the narrow door. He was almost nude. He wore only the remnants of his tattered jumpsuit. He had pieces of orange fabric wrapped around his tight waist and between his thick thighs. He had outgrown his underwear as well. A few curly hairs were visible from the low rise waist of his self made briefs. Every muscle on his body was thick, well defined, and ripped to shreds. Like his body, his face looked sculpted to perfection. The thick, dark stubble of his beard made him look manlier. He looked like he had just stepped down from MountOlympus. Paul, who hadn’t seen him in three weeks, was in shock. Thanks to the spell, George and Simon’s reaction was one of immediate acceptance.

Tim, who hadn’t been in the company of people for 3 weeks, looked at the other men surrounding him. He kept staring at them before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. The guards looked at each other. Did he go a little batty being in the hole? “Shit, you all look so fucking small.” He spoke in a much deeper voice than Paul remembered him having. Paul wondered if that meant his voice was at a higher pitch. He knew his every loss was Tim’s gain. During the time Tiny was in solitary, Paul had lost another 4 inches and 50 pounds. With those gains, Tim now towered 8 inches over Paul and outweighed him by more than 100 pounds.

Tiny focused on Paul. He slowly looked him up and down. “Powwow, is that you?” He then took a step closer to invade Paul’s personal space. Looming over him, he stared down and smirked. He flared his lats and flexed his pecs. It was obvious he was enjoying his size advantage. Looking straight ahead Paul saw only Tim’s heavy pecs undulating before him. The musky scent got stronger. Paul involuntarily inhaled deeply. It was as if his body wanted to savor Tim’s testosterone rich scent. Paul dropped his eyes. Patches of dried cum covered Tim’s carved abs. Then he saw the bulge between his legs. There was no way that could be hidden behind any pair of pants. Paul turned his head to the side. Tim put his hand on top of Paul’s head and messed up his hair just like George had done minutes earlier. “Aren’t you a cute little thing? And so shy.” His hand was so big he could palm the guard’s scalp like a NBA player could a basketball.

George stepped toward the giant. He shouldn’t be allowed to handle a guard like that. George grabbed Tim’s wrist. “That’s enough. Put your hands behind you so I can put the cuffs on.” Tim did what he was told. His eyes never left Paul. The smile grew wider on Tim’s handsome face. Paul took several steps back. He was breathing hard and sweating. He took the railing along the 2nd floor walkway in his hand. He needed to brace himself to stop from fainting. Tim’s face suddenly showed some discomfort. George noticed the growing python slithering inside Tim’s tattered briefs. George became irritated and said sternly, “You better calm down boy. No one here is impressed by your display.”

Simon noticed the movement at Tim’s crotch too. He wondered how big it could get; because it already looked huge. His mouth watered as his own reptile awoke from the sight. Tim looked over at Simon who was practically drooling. “I’m not so sure about that, brother”.

George gave Simon a disapproving glare, “Pull yourself together. Remember who you are.” Simon turned around and adjusted his crotch. George focused back on the prisoner. “What the hell did you do to your jumpsuit?”

“Hey man, it’s not my fault. I was given the wrong size again, so I had to improvise. Do I look like I could fit in an extra large?” Tim flexed his entire body to illustrate his point. It exploded in size and hardness.

“Those idiots. I thought I had fixed this”, the oldest guard looked around. “Okay, I’m going to get you a new uniform. You can’t walk around looking like Tarzan. Then you will take a shower before you going back to the general population.”

“I’ll take him to the showers”, Simon blurted out loudly.

Tim smiled and gave the tallest guard a wink. “You like to watch?”

“That’s enough.” George tried to shake Tim, but the behemoth didn’t budge from his effort. “Simon and Powwow wait here until I come back with the new jumpsuit.” George sized up the half naked prisoner noticing the mammoth size of his arms. They had to be at least 2 feet around. “I’ll get a 2X with short sleeves. You can push them up if you have to.”

Tim flexed his torso again. “Make it a 3X, I’ve still got two more weeks of growth left. Ain’t that right Powwow?” Paul couldn’t believe it. Tim practically confessed to what he was doing. The prisoner saw Paul’s reaction. Before Paul could form the words, Tim quickly added, “I mean there’s two weeks until the contest. Now that I can hit the weights again, I plan to put on another 20 or 30 pounds of muscle.”

George scoffed, “In only two weeks, that’s not possible. Even for a mass monster like you.”

Tim smirked, “Oh, you’ll be surprised what this body is capable of.” He looked at the still aroused Simon. “I bet Blondie would love to find out.” He shot him an air kiss.

“I said that’s enough, Tiny”, George pointed at him but knew he couldn’t intimidate a man that big. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. If he gives you any trouble you have my permission to throw him back into the hole for another 3 weeks.” George tried to sound threatening; but Tim only chuckled. He knew it would take more than the three of them to force him to do anything. He could sense how strong he had become. It far exceeded what he expected even with his increased mass. Paul’s muscles were not only larger, but pound for pound stronger than what he had before.

Paul watched George leave. He felt more vulnerable without his supervisor. The short guard could sense Tim’s eyes on him. He didn’t want to look but he slowly craned his neck to look up into the Tim’s grinning face. His smile was brighter than a 100 watt bulb. His face was so much more handsome now. The boyish roundness was gone. He had the flawless angular lines of virile man. Paul tired not to look impressed by the wall of gorgeous masculinity before him.

“Damn, I can’t believe what you’ve become. Not so Paul, Dark, and handsome any more.” The words slid of Tim’s tongue viciously. Paul didn’t react. “What, have you lost your sense of humor as well?” Paul knew Tim was trying to get him angry just as George warned. But Paul didn’t get angry anymore. Fear and sadness were the only emotions he experienced now. “Don’t you want to hit me? Come on, my hands are cuffed behind me. I’m completely defenseless.” With a slight adjustment, Tim’s abs turned into impenetrable body armor. “Then again maybe not.” The prisoner didn’t see the ire he wanted in Paul. He leaned down to put his face right in the smaller man’s. “I dare you, Pow…wow.” As he said his name, he purposely spat in Paul’s face. The guard only flinched. “Afraid it will be your tiny fists that get broken this time around?” Paul side stepped away from his instigator and turned his back to him. Tim laughed. He could see Paul was not going to be any fun.

Tim looked at Simon and took a step toward him, “Come here, Blondie.” Simon nervously walked up to the bigger man. “Can you help me out, man? My cock’s all twisted. You’re a real man, unlike your coworker over there, you know how it is.”

Simon gave him a confused look, “What do you want me to do?”

“Straighten it out, man.” Simon’s eyes went to the huge bulge in Tim’s crude briefs. He made sure Paul still had his back to them. He looked back to Tim’s alluring face. “Hurry man, it’s like torture.” Tim turned his torso to show his cuffed hands. “I can’t.” Simon licked his lips and slowly moved his hand toward Tim’s crotch. He brushed the back of his hand against Tim’s skin covered washboard. Tim flexed to make the ridges higher. Simon hesitated for a moment, then pressed his hand into the hard bricks more and moaned slightly. Tim smirked, “If you like the way that feels, you’ll love what comes next.” The guard slid his hand farther down. Immediately his fingertips made contact with the fleshy pipe. It pulsed at his touch. Simon didn’t stop until his hand disappeared behind the orange cloth. His fingers wrapped around the hot rod. It had to be twice the girth of Simon’s own pole and it was still rubbery. Simon gently pulled it up. Tim inhaled sharply as a few pubes were torn from his immense ball sack. The hairs were stuck to his ruffled foreskin by a thick layer of dried cum. Simon’s hand emerged with his lengthy quarry. He reluctantly let go. Tim’s manhood now pointed due north; with the dark head and more than three inches of mocha colored flesh in view. “Man, that feels righteous”, Tim said with a long sigh. Simon stared at the glorious meat. He had a thirst for another man’s juice as never before. He reached for his own bulge and worked out the kinks. His eyes never left Tim’s crotch. Tim smiled down at him. “It’s a real trip isn’t it? Fucking huge. Sometimes I can’t believe it’s attached to me. My nuts are just as big. They get so heavy and full; if I don’t shoot every few hours they back up and get sore. Man, it’s a good thing I’m always so fucking horny.” The outline of Simon’s cock became more pronounced as it grew to its full size. “Not bad, blondie. You feeling a little backed up too?” Tim licked his lips. “You know man, we should play SimonSays. To win I would have to do whatever you said. I bet we both would get some relief.”

Simon’s eyes darted to Paul’s back for a moment and then he whispered, “I would like that, Tiny.”

Tim squared his shoulders and lifted his chin high. He spoke loudly, “I don’t really like that nickname. I mean, Tiny Tim is cute and all but there’s really nothing tiny about me is there.” Simon shook his head no. “I’ve been thinking Titan is more suitable. What do you think, Tim the Titan?”

“I like it”, Simon subtlety sniffed his fingers which held Tim’s rod just seconds ago, “I like every thing about you, Titan.” The two young men ended their flirting when they saw George returning.

Tim looked at Paul. “Speaking of new nicknames; P.W. Dark needs a new one too. Powwow just doesn’t ring true to me anymore. I think Peewee is more fitting.” Simon laughed.

“Okay that’s enough joking around. This is a prison not a comedy club.” George grabbed Tim. His relaxed arm felt like a 30 pound ham in his hand. “Let’s get you to the shower room.” Again George couldn’t budge him. The senior guard looked at the prisoner. He saw the man’s impressive tool peeping out from his briefs. “Damn, this guy is huge everywhere”, he thought with some envy. He held the new jumpsuit in front of Tim’s crotch to cover the indecent exposure.

Simon held onto the prisoner’s other arm. Titan flexed for him. Simon caressed the steely surface. Simon’s cock throbbed again. He looked up, “May we take you to the showers, Titan?” The giant nodded and allowed them to escort him away.

George noticed Paul hadn’t moved. He looked at the smallest man over his shoulder. “You okay?”

Paul kept his back to the others, “No, I’m not feeling well. I think I’ll take my break now.”

“Okay”, George said.

“See ya around, Peewee”, Titan yelled.

“Yeah, enjoy your break Peewee”, Simon added.

Paul slowly walked away in the opposite direction.


“You saw the body?” Paul asked George excitedly.

“I was the one who found him in the shower room.” The older man shook his head, “I have never seen anything like it in all my 20 years on the job.”

“Was his…you know…penis really broken?”

“To say the least.”

“I didn’t even know you could break it.”

“Well it certainly looked broken. It was bent in the middle at a 90 degree angle, like it had been snapped in half.” George groaned as he imagined the pain the victim must have experienced. “It was bloated and all purple and black. At first I thought maybe it was his intestines or something, it was so unrecognizable. His whole body was covered in bruises .The doctor said he must have died almost immediately after it broke which is why the blood pooled in the shaft instead of draining away. He was also raped brutally with something large. His rectum was ripped to shreds. And his face…” George stopped for a moment as the image flashed in his mind. He put down his bowl of tuna. “It was so badly beaten it looked like mush. Someone certainly made his last minutes on Earth a living hell.” The guard wrapped the remainder of his lunch in the brown paper bag he brought it in and tossed it in the garbage.

“Well, he’s in hell for eternity now.” Paul mixed a small box of raisins into a container of low fat cottage cheese. He was getting used to much smaller meals. He had to cut his calories to just a fraction of what he used to consume. Luckily, he had the metabolism of a hummingbird which helped to keep his body fat down. “You think some one would have heard him screaming.”

“His underwear was stuffed in his mouth. Dirty underwear that is. He was forced to crap in them first.” George drank the last of a large bottle of water. You could tell the taste was tainted by his words. “They were shoved so far down his throat there was no way he could have made a sound.”

“What a horrible way to die.” Paul thought for a moment. “The evening news is nothing but crime stories. I never used to watch television; but now I’m home a lot more at night. I never realized what a scary place the world is. People are getting robbed, killed and raped every minute. I’m surprised I survived this long.”

George was dumbfounded, “You work in a prison, son.”

“Yeah, but still. It’s all suddenly so overwhelming.”

“You fought in Vietnam? You told me you ran point most of the time.” George folded his arms over his chest. “I would think this is pretty tame after living through that.”

Paul’s eyes widened, “Don’t remind me. I don’t know how I did it. I must have been insane or something. I would blame it on being high, but I didn’t drop acid until I got back.”

“Man, you can’t go through life afraid, especially in this place.”

Paul finished chewing, “It’s better to be alive and afraid, then dead.” Paul wiped his mouth, “You know I used to leave my front door unlocked when I was home and my windows wide open all night. I could have been killed while I slept.” He shook his head in disbelieve.

“You live on the first floor?”

“Fourth, but still.” Paul stirred his meal, “I asked Simon to put a deadbolt on my door. He said no, so I bought one of those barricades you prop up against the doorknob. Now I worry about a fire. What if I can’t get out and die of smoke inhalation?”

“You pay your rent don’t you?” George asked.

“You bet your bippy, $600 a month. It’s killing my budget”, Paul scoffed.

“For that amount he should provide an armed guard. Demand he installs the lock.” George leaned closer to his colleague. “He might be able to pick on you while at work; but at home he works for you. Don’t forget that.”

Paul rolled his shoulders forward, “I don’t want to make waves. He might get angry. It will only make things worse for me.” It was George’s turn to shake his head.

Simon entered and sat down at their table. He unrolled his store bought hero as he asked, “What you talking about?”

Before George could answer truthfully, Paul blurted out, “Momar”. George could see Paul didn’t want to discuss his landlord problem.

Simon pulled the tab off his can of Fresca, “If you ask me that scum bag got what he deserved. This place is better off without him.” He took a big bite from his Italian sub.

George put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “It doesn’t bother you he was killed under our watch. We’re supposed to keep some kind of order in this place.”

“You know things run a lot smoother when the inmates govern themselves. We’re just here to make sure they don’t get over the walls.” Simon sunk his teeth into his sandwich again.

“That’s a great attitude.” George sighed and leaned back into his chair.

Simon spoke before swallowing. “Well they do out number us 200 to one, George. We can’t be everywhere at every moment.” Paul got up and threw his garbage away. Simon wiped his mouth. “You have to admit things have been a lot easier since Titan got out of solitary a week ago. He’s the only one big enough to keep the animals under control.”

“So Tim is some kind of savior when he bullies everyone; but Momar was a scum bag?” Paul asked as he sat down again.

“Did you hear something George? Like the obnoxious buzzing of a mosquito, a very small and very annoying mosquito.” Simon asked with an arched eyebrow.

George did his best not to take sides. “He has a point Simon. It is a bit of a double standard.”

“Look at him. God made Titan that way for a reason. So yes he is some kind of savior.” George knitted his eyebrows. Simon put down his sandwich, “Hey, you can’t deny he makes our job easier. I for one am very grateful he’s on our side.”

George chuckled, “Our side? He’s a murderer.”

Simon pointed his finger at George, “No, he’s a convicted thief.”

“I’ll say”, Paul said under his breath.

Simon ignored him as usual. “And he was framed. Somebody jealous of him I’m sure.” Simon spoke like he was lawyer defending a client. “There’s no proof or even a witnesses he killed Momar.”

George chuckled. “Who else is strong enough to do those things to a man Momar’s size? You two may have some sort of friendship; but we all know it was him, Simon.”

Simon fidgeted in his seat, “I think he’s a decent guy who deserves a second chance that’s all. Isn’t rehabilitation our goal?”

George scratched his head, “Strange for someone who is obviously extremely healthy, Titan spends a lot of time in the infirmary. He’s there almost every day…and always at a time when the medical staff is gone. And you are always the one who escorts him.” George raised one eyebrow. “Did you know that is one of the few areas where we don’t have surveillance cameras?”

“Really, I had no idea.” Simon quickly took another bite of food.

“As the supervisor, I check the inmate sign-out log every week. What ever…procedure he needs, it only takes about half an hour.” George strummed his fingers on the table and waited for Simon’s answer.

Simon chewed slowly as his brain searched for an answer. He swallowed. “It’s blisters. He gets blisters from lifting weights. You know how much he gets off…I mean enjoys working out. I’ve never seen a person who enjoys lifting weights that much. It’s like he gets a high; better than LSD he says. I swear you can actually feel his muscles growing and getting stronger by the second.” Paul fidgeted in his seat. His fingers went to his upper arm. He wondered if he could feel his muscles getting smaller by the second. Simon realized he was going off subject. “When he gets done working out, he needs bandages for his blisters. That’s all, just bandages.”

“Yeah, right. And your pants are worn at the knees because you spend so much time praying”, George used his most sarcastic tone.

Paul began to laugh but stopped when Simon glared at him. The men’s attention went to the warden’s secretary as she entered the room. She came to their table. “Mr.Dark, the warden would like to see you when you’re done with your lunch.” Paul said okay and the attractive, young woman left. Most of the guards in the lunch room stopped eating to watch her leave.

“What did you do?” George asked.

“I don’t know.” Paul stood up. “I’m wearing a small shirt. There’s no way he can say it’s too big for me.” Paul pushed his chair neatly under the table.

George looked over Paul. “No, it fits you fine. It has to be something else. Maybe something good?”

Paul kept his hands on the back of the chair and thought. “Yeah, maybe.” He was still worried.

George slapped Paul’s back gently, “You’re going to place well among the lightweights.”

Paul sighed, “I told you I don’t’ care about the regionals anymore.”

George stood up. He looked down at his slender friend, “I don’t understand. You’ve worked so hard. I know it’s not easy for someone like you to build up your body. You were excited before. What’s changed?”

Paul pulled back his short sleeve and flexed his arm. A lemon sized muscle emerged on his 13” arm. “Absolutely nothing has changed, George. I’m exactly the same man I’ve always been, right?” Paul lowered his arm and sighed. “I’m sorry. I better not keep the warden waiting.” Paul quickly walked out of the room.

George looked at Simon. The blonde shrugged his broad shoulders, “Don’t look at me. He’s your buddy, not mine. I can’t stand the little twerp.” Simon took another bite of his sandwich.

The warden’s secretary held the door open as Paul walked into the stately office. “Thank you.” She gave him an indifferent smile. Paul couldn’t decide if she didn’t remember them having sex or was only pretending it never happened. There was a time when she couldn’t keep her hands off him and giggled at everything he said. Having to empty his swollen balls every few hours was a bit of a chore; albeit a pleasurable one. She was a convenience for Paul. A woman was a rarity in his workplace. Using her was better than jerking off in the bathroom during lunch. He tried to recall the particulars about their numerous quickies in the boss’s office; but couldn’t. She was only one of his countless regulars.

The boss was on the telephone and he gestured to a chair in front of his desk. Paul sat in the large chair. Because of his short legs he sat on edge so his feet would touch the floor. The guard scanned the office trying not to listen to warden’s conversation. He felt like a school boy sitting in the principal’s office waiting to hear his punishment. His feet tapped nervously. He was jittery all the time now. He looked at the sofa in the corner. It looked so big now; but he remembered how he struggled to stay balanced on it when he brought what’s her name to euphoric climax over and over again. They both enjoyed the element of danger that at any moment the boss could walk in on them. In retrospect it seemed rather foolhardy,

After ending the call, the balding man leaned back in his chair. “How you doing, Paul?”

The guard cleared his throat, “Fine, sir.”

The warden opened a folder on his desk. “I ask because you’ve missed a lot of days over the past nine weeks. You’ve been with us for less than a year and called out thirteen times. Do you have some medical issue I’m not aware of?”

Paul rubbed the back of his neck. He wanted to tell him about his shrinking body but knew it would be futile. “No, sir.”

He could tell by the employee’s face, he wasn’t telling the truth. “I’m not going to push the issue because there’s a more serious matter to discuss. I’m sure you’re well aware that your job has it challenges. Dealing with the inmates requires both mental and physical strength. The state has certain requirements for employees in your position. These requirements exist not only for your own safety; but those of your coworkers. They have to trust you will be able to do your job properly during critical situations.”

“Yes, sir”, Paul wasn’t sure where the conversation was going.

The warden stood up and walked to the front of his desk. “One of those is a height requirement. How tall are you Paul?”

Paul swallowed hard, “Uhm, I’m not sure sir.”

The administrator folded his arms and sat on the edge of his desk. “We can go down to the infirmary right now and have you measured.”

Paul looked at his floor. He knew it didn’t make any sense to lie. He was only getting shorter day by day. “I was a tad over 5’ 5” two days ago.” He raised his head, “But I’m in really good shape. You can ask George. I can do this job, sir.”

“That may or may not be true, Paul; but we all have to abide by the rules. 5’ 8” is the minimum height requirement for a male guard. It’s not fair to everyone else we turned away if we continue to employ you.” The warden picked up a form from the open folder on his desk. “I didn’t understand how it was overlooked when you were hired. But the doctor’s office where you got your pre-employment physical made some errors. They wrote in 6 feet 5 inches for your height; instead of 5 feet 5 inches. And if that wasn’t bad enough, they got your weight wrong too. They said you were 274 pounds, you can’t weigh half that. It’s like they examined a different man.” He looked at Paul sternly, “I hope that wasn’t what happened. Fraud is no laughing matter.”

“149”, Paul mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“My weight, I weigh 149 pounds.”

The warden stood up. “Well that’s neither here nor there. Your height or lack thereof, means you will have to be dismissed. It’s out of my hands.”

“What am I going to do about money? How am I going to pay my bills, my rent? Where will I live?”

“You should have thought of that before you mislead us. It’s not like you’ve gotten shorter since you were hired.” The warden held up the folder. “You signed documents agreeing to the contract terms and the validity of the information. Knowingly falsifying documents is a serious crime, Mr.Dark.”

“But I…” Paul decided not to finish his thought.

The boss placed the form back into the file. “You can finish out the week. I noticed you were reimbursed for some uniform tailoring. That goes against the expenditure policy. You’ll need to repay that back to us. Payroll will deduct it from your last paycheck.”

“But that will take all of it.” Paul whined.

The warden’s face showed he found Paul’s high pitched voice irritating, “That is all. You can leave.”

Paul got up and shuffled out of the office. The news traveled through the prison staff and the inmates like wildfire. It was on everyone’s tongue. Most of the guards didn’t understand how he had gotten away with it for so long. It was obvious he was too small for the job. The afternoon of Paul’s last day, he was called to the warden’s office again. He thought it was to hand in his ID, badge and weapons. When he entered the outer office he found Simon there. The secretary told Paul to have a seat. Paul sat down next to Simon.

“Time to hit the road, Peewee?” Simon said form the side of his mouth.

Paul leaned in his chair away from the other guard. He looked around the room. The clanging from the secretary’s typewriter suddenly stopped. The eerie quiet made him want to say something. He whispered, “Why are you here?”

“Titan wanted to see the warden.”

“Since when do prisoners get a private audience with the warden whenever they want?”

“Titan isn’t just any prisoner.” Simon and the secretary made eye contact for just a second. Apparently she was listening to their conversation.

Paul scoffed, “They way you act, you’d think he was the second coming.”

“If you could get past your jealousy, you could see how special he is. A man like that shouldn’t waste away in prison. It’s a sin to keep him locked up in this place. He’s meant for greater things.”

Paul couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I wasn’t aware that having big muscles made you special.”

It was Simon’s turn to scoff. “There are thousands of men with big muscles. He is so much more than that. Titan is what every man wants to be. If God created mankind in his own image; someone that fundamentality superior had to be truly touched by divinity. If you can’t see that, I feel sorry for you.”

Paul searched Simon’s face for any sign of humor or sarcasm, but found none. He truly believed what he was saying. Did he feel the same way when Paul had that body? Is that why he did all those things for him when they first met? How many other people shared his belief? Paul never really thought of himself as blessed. He knew he was much bigger and better looking than most men. It was obvious people found him attractive by how distracted they became when he was around. A day didn’t go by that he wasn’t complimented on his looks, size and strength by someone, usually a total stranger. He took his size and strength for granted. It was the natural way of things. All he ever knew. Now that every thing was gone, he could truly see what he had and how rare it is. He wished he had appreciated it more. Maybe he should have thanked God for choosing him.

There was a loud click as the office door was unlocked. The warden held it open as Titan walked out. Simon stood at attention when he saw his hero. Even the secretary thrust out her ample breasts and smiled at Tim’s appearance. Tim locked eyes with Paul for only a moment. He didn’t appear to be surprised to see him. He looked almost smug. His hands were cuffed behind him. His arms looked longer and thicker than Paul’s legs. The short sleeves from his jumpsuit had been removed out of necessity to allow his bowling ball delts to emerge from the arm openings unhindered. Around his waist was a man’s tie used like a belt. Paul noticed the warden wasn’t wearing one. It was the first time he ever saw him without the authoritarian neck ware. The tie cinched all the excess fabric of the 3X jumpsuit around Titan’s narrow waist. The garment was designed for a fat man, not someone with Titan’s proportions. The belt showed his imposing physique in the orange outfit for the first time. He had the long zipper pulled down far enough to show off his deep pec cleavage and the top set of abdominals. Paul thought he had to be the one of the strongest men alive. Paul’s eyes went lower. The outline of Tim’s swollen member was visible. Paul wondered if his cock was really that big once. A small wet spot had formed down his thigh where his slightly swollen rod ended. What were the warden and Tim doing in his office? Why was the door locked? Could no one resist the Titan? Did he have the same kind of power over people two months ago?

Tim turned to the warden, “Thanks for the gift, Walter.” The warden didn’t say anything and became ill at ease. Tim leaned toward him and whispered loud enough for everyone to still hear, “Right, not in front of the help.” He straightened and spoke in his regular booming voice, “Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to see me warden.” He found the situation humorous and chuckled. He took a step toward the guards. As he passed, Paul stood up; but Tim didn’t acknowledge him. “Come on blondie, take me back to my cell.”

Simon took Titan’s right arm. His thumb caressed the big man’s tricep. Titan straightened his arm to make the muscle harden. It was a little treat to thank Simon for bringing him to the warden’s office. “Don’t you want to stop at the infirmary first?” Simon begged. Titan smiled. They walked out of the room. Every one that remained watched the hulk leave.

“Why don’t you come on in Peewee…uhm, er, Paul.” As the warden walked to his desk, he stopped to pick up a pillow from the floor and tossed it on the sofa where it belonged. He sat behind his desk and told his employee to have a seat. “I know we planned on today being your last day of work; but I was thinking it may be better to wait until next Friday.”

“Why?” Paul asked.

“Uhm, because it’s the end of the regular pay period. It will make things easier for payroll. Nothing wrong with getting paid another week is there?” The warden ran his hand over his balding head nervously. “And it will allow you to participate in our bodybuilding contest next Thursday.”

“I am not taking part in any contest.”

The boss became indignant of his employee’s attitude. “This was intended to encourage camaraderie between the staff and inmates. If you don’t pose we have no staff member participating. George is the only other contender and he’s judging. It defeats the whole purpose.”

Paul shrugged his narrow shoulders, “Ask Simon to do it. He’s been hitting the weights more lately.”

The warden was getting angry, “Listen you agreed to it months ago. Doesn’t your word mean anything?”

“You’re the one who accused me of fraud.”

The older man pounded his fist onto his desk, “I promised Titan you would be there and I am a man of my word.”

“Titan?” Paul was shocked, “Since when do you follow a prisoner’s orders?”

“I don’t…”, The warden calmed himself, “it was more of a request. He brought up many valid points.” The middle aged man sat back in his chair and stared off into the distance. “He can be very convincing. The man knows how to get what he wants.” The warden was silent for a moment. His eyes focused on Paul. “And for some reason he wants you there.”


“I don’t know; but he refuses to pose if you don’t. He’s the star of the show. Without him the contest is for naught. I’ve made him co-organizer of the whole thing, along with George. He’ll handle the inmates. They seem to do whatever he says. And I told him I would handle you.” The warden leaned forward, “Either you get on that stage next Thursday or I will press charges for intentionally deceiving the state on your employment application. You’ll find yourself on the other side of the bars. Do you understand me?”

Paul knew he had no choice. Once again he was powerless against Titan’s wishes. He nodded his head, “Yes sir, I understand completely.”

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