Reach Out and Grab Someone
By Brad Hatcher
Thomas Green was tired of waiting for the phone company. He'd
called days ago to report the problem with his phone service and was
annoyed that he had to take the day off of work to wait around for
the repairman. It wouldn't have been so bad, but he'd already taken
the day before, Thursday, off as well, but the repairman was a no
show.
A relatively young homeowner, Tom often encountered the
typical repairs that were required to restore an older home.
Sometimes he had the skills or tenacity to tackle and solve the
problem, but other times, such a now, he had to call in a
professional. Tom was 22 years old, but looked younger. He stood
5'2" and weighed a modest 110 pounds. His basement weight bench was
well-used and he had the toned look of a gymnast. Tom's blond hair
and green eyes only accentuated his youthful image.
It was a nice mid-October afternoon in Midtown, Atlanta. Tom
thought of all the things he'd rather be doing with his day. Using
another day of leave to sit at home did not appeal to Tom. Sitting
on his front porch, Tom lit another Marlboro Light and wondered if
maybe he should have tried harder to restore his dial tone on his
own.
That was when he spotted the white BellSouth van turning onto
his street from Peachtree. "About time," Tom said, standing to wave
at the driver of the van. Seeing Tom, the repairman pulled into the
driveway, seemed to review some information on a clipboard, and then
got out of the van to greet the young man on the porch.
Tom took those few minutes to take in the sight of the
BellSouth repairman who was walking up the short incline to his front
porch. The man looked to be in his mid-30's. He had brown hair and
one of those half goatees, with no mustache and hair only on the
chin. The man was six feet tall, easily, and Tom could make out the
muscles under the man's blue work short. Also under the shirt could
be seen a glimpse of the man's hairy chest. Tom tried to think of
anything other than the hard on that was forming in his own tight
jeans. Tom took a big drag from his cigarette, looked down at his
watch, and let irritation overtake desire.
"Hi there," said the Adonis in the blue work clothes and
toolbelt. "Is this 213 Spooler Street?"
"Yep, you're at the right place," Said Tommy.
"Thomas Green live here?" asked the repairman. "You his
kid?"
Tom blushed a little, but was used to the mistake. "No, I am
Tom Green. And I don't have any kids."
"Oh, hey, sorry there, buddy," said the man, "my mistake."
The repairman climbed the five steps to the porch and extended his
right hand. "I'm Chris." Tom looked at Chris, took a final drag,
and stubbed out his Marlboro in an ashtray. He shook Chris's
hand. "You know there, Tommy," Chris said, looking down at
Tom, "those things will stunt your growth." Chris gave Tom a wink.
Tom didn't appreciate the joke.
"Are you from the phone company or the surgeon general's
office?" Tom asked with mild annoyance. Chris seemed to be one of
those guys, used to walking in and charming the pants off of anyone
around.
"Sorry, force of habit. My kid is 16, I'd say he's got about
five inches on you. I caught him smokin' the other day. He won't do
it again. He wants to do that when he's 18, fine; it's his
decision. Until then, it's mine. I gotta pick him up from school
when I'm done here," Chris said, by way of explanation. Tom was a
little disappointed and confused. Left hand, no ring. But a 16 year- old "kid" at home.
"Well," Tom said, "since I'm 22, we'll just let my bad habits
be my business."
"Sounds fair to me," Chris said. He regarded the house and
said, "Nice place you got here. Better than mine. How long ya lived
here?"
Tom was finding Chris to be charming again. "Oh, just a
couple of months. I actually got it for a good deal." Tom thought
about how lucky he and others in his family were. He and each of his
siblings were born with special gifts that always seemed to give them
the edge. "My older brother is a realtor and he helped me negotiate
with the previous owner." Tom's brother could read and manipulate
the minds of other people as easily as Tom could program a
computer. "My job as a computer programmer pays me well enough to
afford the mortgage," said Tom. "And it keeps me well-stocked in my
bad habits." Tom gave Chris a coy smile.
Chris got down to business. "So what's the trouble?"
Tom took time to explain to Chris that his phone had no dial
tone. The problem began when Tom noticed that a vent cover between
two rooms was off the wall and his neighbor's cat had been messing
around between the walls of the dining room and guest room. Tom was
pretty sure that somewhere back there was, in fact, the main phone
line that came in from the box outside.
Chris listened to Tom's description of the problem and had to
agree that there was likely some problem with the phone line in the
wall. If his suspicions were correct, there would be two ways to fix
the problem. One, if he could reach between the walls, he could
splice the cable back together. Or, he might have to drop a new
cable from the attic into the wall. Chris thought also, if he could
pull it over on Tom, that he could convince the boy that the wall
would have to ripped open, and he could make some money for his best
friend, Paul, who was a contractor.
"Let's begin with the basics," Chris said. "I'm going to
check a few things outside the house."
"Okay, I'll try to stay out of your way. Just let me know if
you need anything," Tom replied. As Chris checked the phone box near
the street and the one attached to Tom's house, Tom sat on the porch
and tried his best not to stare at the man. Chris went inside the
house and stuck his arm through the still-exposed vent, between the
walls.
Tom was enjoying the view that Chris was giving him as he bent
over and rolled around on the floor. Tom was definitely an ass-man,
which his lovers usually found hard to believe, given his diminutive
stature. Tom lit another cigarette and tried to commit every detail
of Chris's physique and demeanor to memory for later. He was shaken
from his reverie a moment later by Chris's return to the porch. "Got
one of those for me?" Chris asked.
"Huh? You just got onto me for this bad habit and how you
want one? What gives?" asked Tom. Silently, Tom was delighted.
He'd love to see Chris smoke one of his cigarettes.
"I smoke, too. I just don't think that kids should," Chris
said "I'm fresh out and was rushing so fast to get to your place
that I didn't have a chance to stop for more." With that, Tom gave
Chris a cigarette and watched as he lit it. "So," Chris
continued, "want the bad news?"
Tom didn't want to hear any bad news, but said, simply, "Give
it to me."
"Everything is working fine from the street to your box,"
Chris said. "It looks like the cat must have played with the wire
inside the wall and caused them to come apart." Chris took a big
drag and rolled the dice. "If I could reach the wires inside the
wall, I'd be able to cut out the bad section and splice them back
together. Since I can't reach, I'm afraid we'll have to cut the wall
open and go in from there." Chris was hoping that Tom would accept
his recommendation so that he could give the job to his buddy Paul.
Something about Chris's diagnosis and suggestion struck Tom as
odd. He had a feeling that Chris was being less than honest about
his options. "Let me guess," Tom said sarcastically, "you know
someone who can give me a really good deal on the drywall work."
Missing the sarcasm and smiling, Chris said," as a matter of
fact, I do." Tom tossed his cigarette into the yard and went inside
the house to study the open vent, seemingly peering at the wires
within the wall. He got very quiet as he considered his own options.
Chris had a sinking feeling that maybe Tom was proving to be a
smarter young man than he'd thought. He snubbed out his butt in the
ashtray and followed Tom inside, shutting the door. He stood very
close to Tom and looked down at him, thinking that maybe he could
intimidate the much-smaller man into going along with the plan. The
look on Tom's face brought Chris up short.
"Chris, I think there's a better option," Tom said, his mouth
curling into a smile.
Chris had the oddest sensation, and dismissed it as a little
indigestion from lunch. Something about this kid weirded him out
suddenly. "Uhm, yeah there, Tommy, there could be a couple more
options," Chris stammered. He decided that he would find a more
honest way to fix Tom's phone service. "I should check the attic,
let me run to the truck and get my ladder." Tom laughed humorlessly
as Chris's world grew dark.
Chris heard a loud metallic thud and was wrapped in some
thick, heavy cloth-like material. He realized that his toolbelt must
have come loose and hit the floor, but he didn't even notice Tom
throw a blanket over his head. He couldn't figure out what would
make the kid react like that.
From everywhere, all at once, he could hear Tom's voice. It
sounded louder than it should. "Oh, you're going to need your
ladder, little man," Tom said. "You're going to need it just to
reach the doorknob." Chris had no idea what the young homeowner was
talking about, but he didn't want to wait around to find out. He
began flailing his arms around, trying to get out of the blankets or
quilts or whatever he was trapped under.
Chris said, "Hey! What's the big idea? I'm gonna kick your
little faggy ass when I get out of here, do you hear me?" Tom was
enjoying the show. The little man had no idea what had hit him.
Chris was trapped somewhere in his clothes, fighting with all his
strength to get out. From the size of the thrashing lump in the pile
of clothes, Chris was no more than 11 or 12 inches in height. Tom
bent over the clothes and put his hand where Chris's chest was
at. "What's that? Tommy! Where did you go? Something has me!
Help!" exclaimed the once-large man.
Holding Chris still in his clothes, Tom worked the pants leg
of Chris's blue work pants up and over Chris's body. Finally, Tom
had freed Chris from his clothes. He let go of the small man and
stepped back to enjoy his handiwork. "Calm down, little guy.
Nothing has you. You were trapped by your own clothes," Tom said
matter-of-factly. "Although, I must say, you look much better
without them anyway." With that, Tom looked at Chris from head-to- toe, enjoying the still-impressive looking piece of meat between the
now-small man's legs.
Chris, for his part, looked as if he might faint. "What did
you do to me," he demanded weakly. He was used to his voice booming;
to being in complete control.
Tom got down on one knee and spoke with a lower voice, "I
liked the sound of the first option. Instead of tearing up my walls,
you should have no trouble getting back there and fixing my phone
line." Tom made it sound like the most logical thing in the
world. "Then after that, if you've behaved well, followed my
instructions, and finished your job, you'll be back to normal and on
your way home in time to pick up your son from school."
At the mention of his son, Chris shuddered anew. The thought
of trying to discipline his boy sent a quiver of fear through his
entire body. It was not in Chris's nature to follow the instructions
of others. He panicked, and bolted for the closed door, behind Tom.
Tom just stood up and watched the little man with some pity. Tom
found it hilarious that ten minutes ago, Chris was standing over him,
trying to intimidate him with size. Now, the man barely came up to
Tom's knees. How the mighty have fallen.
Tom quickly closed the distance between he and Chris. Chris
was just staring up at the door handle, realizing that he would not
be leaving through the door in quite the same way that he entered
it. Tom wiped the smile from his face and the humor from his
voice. "What part of 'follow my instructions' don't you understand,
little guy?" Tom asked rhetorically. "For trying to escape without
finishing your work, you will have to be punished." Tom reached down
and wrapped his hand around Chris's torso. Tom's hand didn't quite
close around Chris's body, but his grip was true. He lifted the
small man from the ground as easily as be might lift a 20 ounce
bottle of Coke. Chris kicked hard with his legs and swatted Tom's
hand with his formerly powerful fists. Tom enjoyed the show of
defiance and the way that Chris's cock and balls flailed as result of
his useless effort.
"You're going to have to calm down," Tom said, carrying Chris
to the dining room table. Tom placed Chris on the table. "Promise
to calm down and not run away," Tom asked in a soothing voice.
Chris considered that he'd better play along. "Yes, I'd be
crazy to jump from this table. It's like 40 feet from the ground."
Chris settled onto the table and became self-conscious in front of
the fully clothed giant. "Please don't punish me." Tom wasn't
really angry or mean by nature. But, he did demand obedience from
the small man in front of him
"Don't worry about punishment right now, there's work to do,"
Tom said. Chris seemed to visibly relax. After being in Tom's
hands, he was well aware of what kinds of punishment this young man
could exact on Chris's small body. He most wanted to do what was
asked of him, be returned to normal, and get on about his life.
"Let's calm down a little bit and then we'll get my phone line
repaired -- deal?" Tom said to Chris. Tom reached next to Chris and
grabbed his cigarettes from the table. "Want one?" Tom asked his
little worker. He was smirking down at Chris.
"More than ever," said Chris.
"Too bad, little guy. It'll stunt your growth." With that,
Tom and Chris laughed. Chris was feeling strangely more at ease with
the giant. Tom lit his cigarette and enjoyed the flavor. His
erection, below the table and Chris's view, was straining his jeans.
As Tom smoked, he sent plume after plume of smoke at Chris and
thought more about what he would do with this small man once the job
at hand was complete. With his free hand, he rubbed his hard cock
and was satisfied to feel the precum leaking through his underwear
and jeans.
To Chris, the cigarette looked bigger than a huge cigar. Tom
held it down for Chris, who had to work to take a puff from the large
filter. "There you go, little guy," said Tom. "Nicotine won't
affect your growth. That's my job." Chris took two more drags. Tom
winked and took a final pull from the Marlboro and crushed out the
butt under his tennis shoe. He thought that Chris was one hot little
smoker. "I'm impressed you were able to get your mouth around that,
I can think of something else that you can try with later."
Chris was beginning to like the sexual overtones of his
dealings with Tom. Not many people in Chris's life knew that he was
bisexual, and had been with men before the birth of his son. Maybe
that was why he'd left his ex-wife years ago and petitioned the court
for custody. In his sexual escapades with men and women, Chris
always enjoyed being the aggressor. Although the circumstances
surrounding Tom were beyond belief, he was finding the possibilities
to his liking. His dick made that obvious to Tom, who noticed
Chris's cock getting bigger.
"Well, what have we here," Tom teased. He reached out with a
finger and rubbed the inch-plus fuck-stick, causing it to get even
more rigid. "How big did this thing get?" Tom couldn't help
himself; he rubbed Chris's prick with two fingers, and used his other
hand to massage the little man's chest. He loved the way the little
hairs tickled his fingers and wanted more than anything to lick Chris
from head to toe. Tom's jeans had developed a noticeable wet spot as
he continued to leak into them.
"Hard to believe, but ten inches," Chris said. He wiggled out
of Tom's grasp and stepped to the edge of the table, trying to see
below to Tom's crotch. "What are you hiding down there?" Tom
reached for his jeans and cupped his hand around the outline of his
respectable six thick inches.
"Business before pleasure, little fella," Tom said. "You have
a job to do." Chris was disappointed, but also felt the need to get
down to work. He would have to make the necessary repairs and get
restored to his former height in enough time to pick his son,
Michael, up from school. With just less than three hours to go,
Chris was beginning to hope that there would be time for more
pleasure after the business was complete.
Tom lifted Chris from the table and carried him back to his
clothes, near the vent. He felt empowered by the small man in his
hand. He'd never used his gifts in such an overt way before, but
really wondered why. He hoped this was just the first of what would
become many more indulgences. Chris was placed carefully on the
floor, before his discarded tool belt. "Looks like I'll need some of
that black tape," Chris said. "And my flashlight." He looked up to
Tom. "Could you also get me a small knife? I don't think I can
safely use my own anymore."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Man," Tom mocked. "Right away sir!" Tom
grabbed the knife from the kitchen and helped Chris position the
flashlight so that he could see within the walls. Tom cut a few
strips of the tape for Chris to use for his repairs.
A look of fear passed over Chris's face. "Uhm, the cat...?"
Chris asked.
Tom smiled. "Long gone. I chased it out days ago. There's
no rats or mice, either. The only furry little create in there will
be you. But if you're good, I'll make sure you get a treat when
you're done." Tom gave Chris a friendly swat on his tight little
ass, and off Chris went to accomplish his mission.
Chris toiled in the wall for nearly half an hour. He was used
to physical exertion, but working in such a diminished state took a
lot out of the small stud. He found the wires in need of repair and
used the knife to cut and strip them. It was a tight fit, but he was
able to use the tape that Tom had torn off to fix the wires.
Tom had picked up Chris's clothes and was arranging them over
a chair in the dining room. He gave Chris's underwear a little
sniff; he loved the man's smell. Tom looked through Chris's wallet
and saw his driver's license. 6'1". Not anymore, heh heh. It was
at this moment that Tom decided on an appropriate punishment for his
new little friend. Nothing painful and nothing permanent. But it
would help Chris, Tom thought, to be a better and more understanding
parent.
Tom heard Chris call from the wall, "Go try your phone, Tom."
Tom did as he was told and was pleased to hear a dial tone. He
called a his office phone and it connected. He hung up without
leaving a message. Tom could hear Chris dragging his tools back
through the vent hole in the wall.
"Works like a charm," Tom said. Sweat was running down
Chris's face, chest and legs. He was filthy from being between the
walls. Tom thought he looked like a cowboy, just in from a long day
of riding. "Let's get you cleaned up."
"First, let's have a cigarette, huh?" Chris suggested. "I
need one after that hard work." Tom agreed and lifted Chris for the
third time. Chris smelled exactly like a hot and sweaty man should
and again Tom resisted the urge to lick him. The dirt made it a lot
easier this time. Tom deposited Chris on the table and overturned a
coffee cup for Chris to sit on.
Chris sat with his legs spread and looked up expectantly at
Tom. He was now openly flirting with his young captor. While the
men enjoyed a well-deserved smoke break, they got to know each other
a little better. Tom was glad, in a way, to learn that Chris was
single and doing the right thing by raising his son. Chris
apologized for his reaction to Tom when he'd first been shrunk. In
the course of their conversation, Chris felt that he could tell Tom
about his bisexual past. Tom got up from the table, and headed
deeper into the house. He was off to the bathroom, to get ready for
Chris's bath.
Chris took a last drag from the cigarette, which lay
smoldering in the ashtray. Instead of waiting for Tom to pick him
up, he hopped down to the chair and lowered himself to the floor. It
was a strange experience taking in the room from this perspective.
Chris went in search of Tom.
Chris found Tom in the bathroom, running water into the sink,
next to the tub. He leaned against the door jamb. "Hey big fella,"
Chris said. Chris was getting used to running around Tom's house
naked. "Bath time?" Tom stepped over to Chris and shook his head in
the affirmative.
"Yep, time for your shower, little guy," Tom said. Chris
wasn't sure what Tom meant; it looked like he was drawing Chris a
bath in the sink. Chris was picked up for the fourth time and placed
on the bottom of the tub. Chris was really getting puzzled when Tom
clued him in. "I've always wanted to do this... but I'd better make
it quick."
Chris's pulse quickened when he realized that Tom was
unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. He lowered them to his knees
and hauled his semi-limp dick out from the slit in his boxers. Until
that moment, Chris wondered if maybe he and Tom would share a
shower. It never occurred to Chris that, as Tom stepped closer to
the tub, he'd unleash a huge torrent of warm, wet piss in Chris's
direction.
Tom made a very satisfied sound as he unloaded a stream of
piss all over Chris's body. Chris didn't make any sound, wanting to
keep his mouth and eyes closed. When Tom's piss was reduced to just
a couple of drops on Chris's head, Tom burst out laughing and leaned
in near Chris. "You, my little man, stink. Let's get you cleaned up
for real." When Tom reached for Chris, Chris decided to play along
and sent a much smaller amount of light-yellow liquid at Tom's hand.
Chris looked very satisfied with himself.
"Two can play at that game, Tom. And hopefully many more,"
Chris said. Tom agreed that they could, and placed Chris into the
sink. Tom used some soap to wash his hands, and passed a sliver down
to Chris. While the little man cleaned up from his day's work, he
and Tom talked some more. Tom's cock was still out of his boxers and
Chris would occasionally fling little amounts of water at it, as it
swelled.
"Was this what you had in mind when you made me this way?"
Chris asked. He looked up at Tom as he finished rinsing off.
"Actually, no. At that moment, I just wanted my phone fixed.
Everything else has been icing on the cake. I never imagined that
you would be so receptive to playing along." Tom handed Chris a wash
cloth so that he could dry himself, and decided upon second thought
to dry the little man himself.
Chris liked the attention and looked thoughtfully at the giant
young man. "I guess I knew that you wouldn't really hurt me. You
obviously are capable of so much more. I take you at your word that
you'll send me on my way once we're done here. Speaking of that...
what time is it getting to be?"
Tom could see the clock in the hallway, which read 2:30. He
told Chris the time and again lifted his little man into the
air. "Just enough time for your reward and punishment, my pet."
Chris liked the sound of that. He was carried to Tom's bedroom and
placed on the bed. He felt as though he was on a huge field of
down. Tom went to the closet to get something from a high shelf.
Chris found it cute that he had to use a small step-stool to reach.
Tom returned to the bed with something behind his back. He
said, "Chris, there's someone that I want you to meet. Chris, Billy -
- Billy, Chris!" With that, Tom brought his hand from behind his
back and Chris fully expected to see another small man, like
himself. What he saw, in reality, was some sort of small mannequin.
He realized that it was actually a doll, given his, and its,
size. "This was a gift from an old boyfriend. I never gave it much
thought until today." Tom placed the lifelike doll in the bed and
Chris realized that Billy was about the same size as him. The doll
was dressed in some sort of S&M outfit and Chris's eyes were drawn
naturally to the large bulge in the doll's black faux-leather pants.
"Uhm, is that what I think it is?" Chris asked sheepishly.
"Yep," said Tom. "Anatomically correct. Well, I used to say
anatomically exaggerated. Until I saw you. Billy has bigger
muscles, but I think you win in the cock department."
"All the better to fuck you with, my dear," mocked Chris. He
was confused as to what role this lifelike doll would be playing in
their afternoon together. "Seriously, Tom, what's with that thing?"
Tom moved to his bedside table and opened the drawer. He
deposited a tube of lube on the bed. "Well, Billy's feeling frisky
today. I think he's going to take your virgin ass. I'd do it
myself, but I don't think it would work out too well at this scale."
Tom then took off his boxers and removed his t-shirt. Aside from his
plump, think cock, and bush of dark blond pubes, you'd think he was
more angel than demon. He jumped on the bed, near Chris. The
shockwave of bounce from Tom's jump forced Chris off his feet, and he
landed on Tom's stomach.
"Tom, I'm not so sure about this..." Chris began. Using his
left hand, Tom began to jack his cock to its full size. On cue, it
began to leak precum like a faucet. Chris abandoned his protests and
moved to touch the massive phallus in front of him. Some of the men
he'd been with in the past were classic size queens. The sight of
Tom's dick made him understand those mens' fascination with a big
tool. Tom stopped jacking when Chris wrapped both hands around the
head of his cock and began to a full-body jack. Chris was getting
sticky all over again in Tom's pre-jizz. The taste, to Chris, was
divine.
Just as Chris was getting into making Tom feel good, a giant
hand grabbed him just under his arms. Tom finally allowed himself to
indulge in licking Chris's hairy, rippled chest. He paid special
attention to Chris's little nips, wondering if he could bite them
without doing too much damage. Chris, for his part, could do nothing
but moan unintelligible bits of words. He didn't know how long he'd
be able to hold out.
Tom loved every inch of his little man. His tongue teased
Chris's still-substantial cock and balls. Tom licked around to
Chris's asshole, and actually penetrated the tiny opening with the
smallest part of his tongue. Tom's other hand had returned to rub on
his own knob and both men were in ecstasy. After ticking his tongue
on Chris's facial stubble, he put his lips around the small man's
dick and sucked it like a straw, using his tongue to deliver spit to
Chris's crotch, lubricating the fuck-hole.
Chris was moaning, but did make some sense. "Yeah, take that
cock, boy! You know you love sucking my big cock." Apparently, in
the moment of sexual bliss, the irony of those words was lost on both
men. "Better get ready, I'm about to shoot by big load all over your
mouth." Tom picked up the pace on his sucking and jacking. Billy,
forgotten, stared at the men with unseeing eyes. He would have to
wait for another day to take a hot, tight ass.
Chris's shout would have shook the house, had he been the
large man that he was until two hours ago. Chris could do nothing
but shout as the giant Tom again and again sucked on Chris's dick.
He was trapped in the giant's hand, being brought to the best orgasm
that he could remember. "Oh, shit! Take my cum, here it is!" With
that, Chris's body went rigid and Tom knew that he was shooting what,
for him, would be a large load in the younger, bigger man's mouth.
Tom actually tasted the sticky, salty, sweet mixture that flowed out
of Chris's cock and onto Tom's working tongue.
Tom brought Chris's face to his and presented a little of his
tongue to the older, smaller man. They frenched as best as two men
of such different sizes could and Tom said, "Tastes good, now, how
about a hand?" Tom placed Chris on the bed, just in front of Tom's
large, nearly hairless balls. Chris could just stare at the
throbbing obelisk before him as Tom continued to jack. "Now, talk
dirty to me and rub my balls." Chris had no reason to object. He
wanted to make Tom feel just as good as he'd made Chris feel.
Chris found that he could easily roll Tom's huge nuts in their
sack with both his hands. He was on his knees, worshipping the
massive balls. At his size, they were like two huge warm beachballs
wrapped in a soft blanket. He's almost forgot to say
anything. "Yeah," Chris said, "work that massive cock. You're one
hot, amazing stud. I want to see you shoot that big load. I hope it
covers me from head to toe." Tom was grunting and the sight of the
built mini-man working on his nutsack was just about too much.
"Yeah, keep talking, little man. Better watch out or you
might drown in my jizz," Tom exclaimed. He was close.
Chris could tell that Tom was getting off on the power. He
laid it on thick. "My little squirt of jizz was nothing compared to
what you've been storing up in these huge nuts." Chris rubbed
harder. "I know that you could crush me like a bug... your cock is
more powerful than my whole body. Come on, Tom, shoot that massive
load. I want to swim in your cum."
With a deafening roar, Tom's load shot angrily from his dick.
The first load shot at an arc and hit Tom's chest, between his
smallish nipples. Tom aimed as he jacked and sent the next six shots
right at Chris, covering him, as promised, with white, hot, sticky
jizz. "Yeah," panted Tom, "that was the hottest thing ever. Come
here, you little cum-rag."
Chris was lifted the Tom's mouth and they kissed again. Tom
lapped up his jizz from every nook and cranny of Chris's small body.
When they were basking in the post-cum glow, Chris looked up at his
giant friend. "I bet you know what I could go for?" he asked. "I
can read your mind," Tom replied.
Chris jumped down from the bed and walked out to the dining
table and collected a massive Marlboro Light
and Tom's lighter. He hefted the supplies back to the bedroom, where
Tom had already put back on his boxers. Chris wondered when he'd be
able to get dressed also. Tom reached down and in one hand picked up
Chris, and with the other took the cigarette and lighter. He lit the
cigarette and held it for Chris. As Chris took a draw from the
cigarette, Tom wondered if his power would work on nonliving
objects. Another question for another day, Tom decided. He repeated
in his own mind that Chris was a hot little smoker. Unreal. Tom
caught himself wondering if the son was nearly as attractive as the
father. Nah, I like older men.
As the men shared their last cigarette, Tom was aware of the
time and that Chris would have to get moving soon. "Alright, Chris,
you've mostly held up your end of the bargain. Now I'll mostly hold
up mine," Tom said mysteriously. Just as suddenly as Chris was made
small, he was back to his original size.
Chris and Tom now laid together in Tom's bed. "Wow, Tommy,
thanks," Chris said, sounding relieved. Tom noticed that he was
again "Tommy" to Chris. Chris took the cigarette from Tom and took
one last drag. Tom pulled an ashtray out of his bedside table, and
Chris put the cigarette out. He's a hot big smoker, too. Chris
picked up the Billy doll that had been discarded earlier. "So, this
was what it was like to hold a grown man in your hands?" he asked Tom.
"Actually, it was much better holding you," Tom replied, as he
got out of the bed and put back on his jeans and t-shirt. Chris
joined Tom by the bed and looked down at his former giant. He pulled
the smaller man to him and gave him a large hug.
"It's not so bad holding you, Tommy," Chris said. The men
walked back into the dining room where Chris got dressed. "This was
a call to remember. I, uhm, don't usually do things like this. I'm
glad you made it possible. Maybe we could see each other again
sometime?"
Tom had an enigmatic smile as he said, "I can almost guarantee
that we will, Chris." The men shared a passionate kiss and they
walked onto the front porch. Finally, Tom just said "Later," and lit
another cigarette as Chris got into his van.
Chris had forgotten Tom's promise of an appropriate punishment
for his earlier attempt to escape. Tom had not. As Chris pulled
away, with the elegance of thought, Tom set into motion a punishment
that would be neither painful nor permanent, just as he'd earlier
decided.
At exactly 5:00 that afternoon, Chris would not be 12 inches
tall again. But, he would lose 12 inches of height. And he would
lose that 12 inches for the following 24 hours. That would make
Chris just over five feet tall. Tom chuckled as he thought back to
what Chris had said when they first met. His son, Michael, must be
just about 5'7", or so. It would be an interesting night in Chris
and Michael's household, no doubt. In fact, Tom wondered how late in
the night before his phone would ring, now that it was fixed, and
when he would again get to reach out and grab someone.
-End-