It's just sex in a van. I got bored of editing it, so it's going as is.
The last few minutes were a blur, following the giant up the road to an oversized van. Jake hesitated as doors opened into darkness.
“Get in there.” He climbed in. Evening light filtered through the windows. A palm gave him a smack on the ass, knocking him further in, then the brute climbed up behind him and shut the door. A switch clicked. Dim light splashed across the walls as a lightbulb stuttered into life. Buckets. A stepladder, spare parts. Nothing special. Just bigger than they should be. Jake tugged at his crotch uncomfortably as it rubbed against his dirty underwear. Things were beginning to get a distinctly unpleasant kind of crusty.
“I, uh. Got to take off my pants.” A hand reached over him to pull blinds over the windows.
“Where’s your damn self-control? Someone needs to teach you some fuckin’ discipline.” Eyes raked over Jake’s body as the giant pulled out a stool and sat down. The van’s balance shifted beneath them.
“That was -” a stoney glare. He cut the sentence off. “Can I have something to cover up with?”
“Getting shy now? Fine.” A blanket hit him in the chest and he hit the wall.
“Ow.” He automatically brought to it to his face and sniffed, then he forced his hands down, feeling his face glow red.
“Little pervert.” Jake tied it around his waist, peeling off his sweaty trousers. In the corner of his eyes, something moved. He ducked. A pack of wipes hit the wall behind him. His assailant gave him an unrepentant stare. Cleanup was… fine. Now he was naked beneath the blanket, though. Behind him, the noise of a zip cut through the silence. Fabric rustled as he glanced over his shoulder. Heavy work trousers hit the floor. A click from impatient fingers.
“Stop hiding. Give me that blanket.” Jake inhaled nervously.
“I’m using it.” A big hand tore it from around his waist, dragging him round to the front. Eyes scanned him up and down. He tugged his shirt down lower. “So. What’s your name?
“Later, boy. Ass up, face down.” The man folded the blanket up, tossing it onto the floor. He waved his hand towards it. Jake blanched.
“Uh. No. Thank you.” An angry glower.
“The fuck you mean, no? I got you off rubbing you through your trousers with my pits in your face. You want to run now I'm offering you a proper shag?” Jake, for the first time so far, felt something replace his libido as he started to consider his next options.
“No. I just don't want to die. You are…” he waved his hands at the general situation in front of him. “Too big. Way too big. I think I can at most do… a finger, maybe?” A snort.
“Fuck off. Look.” A tube landed in his hands.
“Oh. Anaesthetic lube.”
“That's right. Made for runts to take dick. I'll go slow as I can be arsed, you'll be fine. But you're not leaving this van until I’ve had some tail.” Rough hands snatched the tube back up. Lube squirted over calloused skin. Jake took a step back.
“Hold on. Really slow?”
“Slow enough.” The man reached for him. He hit the wall.
“Wait, wait. No pain?” An irritated grunt.
“Pleasure first. nothing that won't heal after a couple of days in bed.” The giant hooked him by the collar. Inescapable strength, tugging forwards.
“I didn’t prep!”
“I don’t give a shit. Get on the fucking floor.“ The brute hauled him away from the wall. A meaty hand squeezed his ass, smearing him with lube. Oversized muscles shoved him down onto all fours, a chuckle ringing out. “Runt.”
“I’m not the abnormal one here.” More cold lube on his ass. He winced. “I think it’s supposed to go on my arsehole, not the rest of me.” A growl.
“You just want me to use spit?”
“No. Lube is good. I’ll shut up.” A grunt. Another slap on his ass that nearly sent him flying, then the giant set his thumbs on Jake’s cheeks and tugged them apart. Jake went rigid. He fixed his eyes nervously on the floor. The sound of shifting phlegm, then the man spat a fat wad of saliva over his hole. He yelped. Ignored. A big finger smeared spit over his crack, mixing it up with lube. A sting as the giant flicked his hole. He jumped.
“Hold still. This’ll take a minute.” Hot, warm air tickled his hole. The man’s breath. A rumble, a deep inhale as the man breathed in. Mass forced its way between Jake’s cheeks. The friction of scruff on his taint. Huge hands wrapped around his thighs, pulling him back. A long, flat lick from his balls to his back. He pulled in a shuddering breath. Saliva, dripping down his legs. Wet muscle on his hole, sensation flaring. Sloppy, broad strokes of the giant’s tongue. The wet sound of feasting. Pressure, then Jake ground his teeth together as muscle breached his hole. A satisfied chuckle behind him. The giant pulled back. Jake hissed as the man hawked another glob of spit over his crack. A finger probed. A dissatisfied growl. The brute dug back in, pinning Jake to his face. Finally, he slipped in a finger. Jake shuddered.
“Finally. That’s one.” He pulled his finger out, kicking his boxers over Jake's form. Jake grabbed it instinctively, then stiffened. The man cuffed him over the head. “Stop freezing up. Just sniff it.” He brought it to his face and took a huff. Hour after hour of work, marking his face. Back to tongue. Rough, wet muscle. Ravenous slurping. He shuddered, leaning back into the feeling. A massive hand toyed with his sack, prodding at his hardon, before the giant got back to work. Finally, a second finger at his hole. Jake winced. “Breathe.” Slowly, the giant worked his way in. He bent his fingers, snorting as Jake yelped beneath him. “That’s two.” Another, probing at his hole. A grunt. “Almost.” A thumb, rubbing over his taint. Big wet tongue again, the giant’s fingers slipping in and out. Finally, he stood up, spat on his fingers again, and slid two in. Jake went rigid. “Oi. Breathe.” Jake let out a shuddering breath, staring down at the blanket between his hands. He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax, feeling the sensation lance through his body. The man’s third finger went in with a squelch, catching at the knuckle.
“Three, just about. That’ll do.” The giant pulled out. Jake sat back on his haunches, sniffing at the giant's boxers for comfort. A couple of huge footsteps. The titan’s shirt hung off massive pecs, biceps tearing at the sleeves. Giant fingers clicked and he looked down, feeling his eyes go wide. Was that even possible? The giant was only half-hard. Already bigger than any man he had seen. Maybe it was just proportionate to the rest of him, but Jake was terrified. The giant gave himself a cursory stroke, wiping lube over himself. “Give me some spit, little man. Show me what your lips look like on my shaft.” Jake let the boxers fall and swallowed nervously. “Calm down. This isn’t a blowie. Just slobber up and down the shaft.” His hand wrapped around Jake's head. He rubbed his dick across Jake's lips. Jake opened up, thick veins pulsing against his skin. A huff of appreciation. Massive fingers tightened in his hair, as if Jake could ever try to get away from a man with this much size on him. The giant pushed Jake's head into his crotch, forcing Jake to slobber over his colossal shaft. Finally, he let Jake's hair go. Movement and weight, heading back around to his behind. A glance over his shoulder. Raw, filthy lust on the man's face as he looked down. The giant spat on his hole again and Davy whimpered.
“Breathe in. Squirm if you need, I’ll hold you where I want you.” Something new pushed between his cheeks. His skin prickled in anticipation. Closer. Warm, sticky. The giant's foreskin smeared something over his hole. Colossal hands wrapped around his hips. Unyielding force pulled him backwards. He whimpered. A pleased grunt as the giant stretched him. He arched automatically. Amusement. He screwed up his eyes. Finally, with a slick pop, the giant's head was in. Jake took in a ragged breath. “Less drama. We've barely started.” He fished out his underwear from between Jake's thighs and covered up his mouth, big hand holding over his mouth until he breathed deep. “Hold that there. Breathe in, breathe out, push back. I’m the one doing all the work here.”
“F-fuck you.” He reached up to bury his face in the sweaty fabric. The force around his hips wasn't even strict. The giant’s arms were relaxed. His pure size made Jake an easy domination. The giant pulled him back another inch. He could feel himself steadily filling up. The pressure got deeper and thicker. His hole strained just to accommodate the sheer size. He looked down at his stomach. A distended lump, the clear imprint of something huge inside. It advanced slowly, filling him up, the giant forcing his way in. Finally, his butt landed in a massive bush. Big balls tickled the back of his thighs. He breathed in a ragged breath, feeling the invasion of his abdomen. An impatient rumble.
“Thirty seconds. Get a grip.” Jake took in a couple of breaths. Bulk strained behind him with the effort of holding still. Deep, heavy breathing in his ear. Hips started to move. The giant was out of patience.
“Wait.” No acknowledgement. “Wait! Man! Just - a couple of minutes. Please.”
“You gonna break?”
“I’m not gona fucking - fuck. No, but - fuck.”
“See, you fucking love it. Little slut. And you ain’t bleeding. So shut it. A few minutes and you’ll be fine.” The pressure inside him started to shift again. Wet squelching as the giant pulled out, girth tugging at his hole. A colossal cockhead caught at his hole. A grunt. The giant buried himself in Jake's hole with one dominant, forceful thrust. The casual, inescapable grip around his hips held him in place, halfway between chains and supports.
“Arch your back.” The van creaked around them. Dirty, muscular bulk, piledriving in. There was sweat dripping over Jake's back. The scene was filthy. From the outside, the silhouette of towering dirty bulk, unloading each colossal thrust in raw animal pleasure, bouncing Jake on his hips like a toy. Jake's strength was gone now. The only driving force was the giant, using Jake how he wanted, grunting in animal pleasure. A growl. The man slowed down for a moment and ran a hand over Jake's stomach, feeling the imprint of his dick pushing out the skin. A rumbling chuckle. The hand on his stomach suddenly formed an iron bar. He stood up. Jake swore as he went soaring up. One hand under his arms, the other beneath his legs. “Fuck, that's tight fucking hole.”
“Will you-” A snarl. The giant squeezed. Jake yelped as muscle pushed in.
“I told you to stop whining. If I have to tell you again, I'll stuff my boxers in your mouth. Shut the fuck up. Your job is to submit and squeal on my cock.” The man pulled out. A huff as his cock popped out with a wet squelch. “Fuck.” The man lined up again. Jake squeezed his eyes shut. Another painful feeling of fullness, building in his gut. The slick sounds of a giant cock filling his ass. Finally, the man's shaft was back in place. He could feel veins throbbing against his hole. Wide hands lifted him up, then drove him down with a grunt. Jake bounced up and down, cock pumping in and out of his hole. Drops of liquid were hitting the floor. Spit and saliva, pre and lube. Jake took in another desperate, shuddering breath, tried to stay conscious, tried not to think about the noises escaping his mouth. An irritated growl. “Fuck’s sake. Why can I never get the angle right?” Jake tried to open his mouth. All that came out was a whimper. His orgasm was inevitable. Not even a single finger touching him. Just a sudden, anticlimactic squirt, splattering across the van's floor. The cause didn't even notice, busy looking around for his next position. The stool rolled away as the giant got down on his knees. Then there was weight. Bearing down, flattening Jake beneath bulk and heat, pounding him into the floor. A big hand wrapped around his face, the giant's thumb slotting into his mouth to shut him up. The other hand pushed his back into an arch, then pulled up his hips.
“Hold.” Jake squeezed his eyes shut as it started again, driven into the floor of the truck, limbs taut under the pressure. Around them, the van creaked, shuddering with each thrust of massive hips. The giant took what he wanted hard and rough. No breaks, no patience. Just a thumb in Jake's mouth, a huge dick in his ass, a mountain of muscle crushing him into the floor. Hot, sweaty and smelly. Jake whimpered as he felt his toes curl. “You like that, runt?” He was pretty sure he had come again. A thick veiny shaft plunged into Jake's hole, again and again. A final, guttural snarl. Then Jake's hips landed at the base of the man's cock, cushioned again by sweaty bush. A few shallow thrusts. Then muscle and bulk finally stilled. Jake squirmed beneath the giant as he went still.
“You’re fine.” The giant settled in, ignoring Jake’s attempts to struggle. A few minutes went by. For a minute, Jake was worried he had fallen asleep. Eventually, a yawn echoed through the van. “Alright.” The pullout was slow. Even soft, the man's cockhead got caught. An irritated grunt. A hand at Jake's hole, then he whimpered as a filthy pop rang out. Liquid burst out, gushing down his thighs. A dirty chuckle rang out behind him. The giant squeezed his sore ass. Jake yelped. “Good boy.” Nearby, a hand seized Jake's discarded shirt. Jake rolled over weakly, feeling liquid run down his leg. Above him, the giant grinned smugly. Jake's shirt disappeared beneath his pits as he wiped off, then he wrapped it around his dick, ignoring Jake’s complaints.
“That was just fucking rude. What am I supposed to wear now?”
“You got my load leaking out your arse. You aren't wearing shit.” The shirt landed on the floor with a wet slap. Jake held it up. Dripping sweat and come. He dropped it, grimacing. Larger fabric landed over his face. A big shirt. That was better. He pulled it on and looked up.
“So, uh. What now?” A snort.
“I’ll put money in you not walking til tomorrow. I'll drop you off, or you can keep my bed warm for the weekend.”
“Okay.” Jake reached for his trousers. A big hand swatted his hand away.
“Leave them.” Gingerly, Jake got to his feet. His knees buckled and the giant caught him, propping him up against his side. “Hold this.” An absorbent mat.
“Isn’t this what you use to toilet train puppies?”
“Yes. Round to the front.” Vast arms flexed as the van doors opened back up. The street was mercifully empty. Huge hands wrapped around his torso and lifted. Then they corralled him around to the side, opening up the door. The mat disappeared from his hands as the giant laid it over the seat, then he reached down again. Jake was too tired to complain as the man bundled him in. Still, the hands wouldn't leave him alone, grabbing the seatbelt next to him.
“I can do that.” Ignored. The giant belted him in, gave the strap a tug, and ruffled his hair roughly. “That was just patronising.”
“Shut up.” There was a strange sort of affection in his voice. Jake settled in as the door closed and the giant went around to the driver’s seat. General noise and movement and heat as the giant set himself up. A big hand tugged at Jake's seatbelt again. The giant turned the key and the van started up.
“I'll start off good. I’m real glad you offered to work off your old man's debt. I was worried, at first. I heard you dropped out of your fancy college, heard you were a bit of a queer, figured you'd end up bein’ lazy like him.”
“Sit quiet and listen. You know this by now. You don't interrupt me when I'm speaking, aye? Let me keep going. So. You roll up to my farm with your slick little hair and your manners. But then, see, somethin’ else happened. You started working. You followed orders. Genuinely, kid, you do your best. So I've worked you out. You ain't a deadbeat. You're a good kid, you just got a bit lost along the way. God knows we can probably blame the way you were raised for that.”
“Thing is, kid. You're just not cut out for farm work. You're tryin’, I see it. But yer too weak. Body and mind. Yer dead on your feet all the time. Fuckin’ exhausted, but you still try. Don't give me none o’ that attitude, now. You can't hide it. Yer gettin’ worse by the day.”
“But I can't just let you be. Yer too good to rot in that shack with that old drunk. I already sorted you out a bed. You and me, we're taking the truck out later to get your stuff.”
“Here we go. Thought this would get some fire out of you. I shoulda brought a cigar to pass the time. And… he's stormin’ out. Alright.”
“Back already? Ran into Big Dan? I figured you’d bolt sooner or later, lad. I got a bit of backup. You know full well Dan can't get enough of you, he was happy as fuck to help out. See - fuck's sake, boy. What part of quiet do you not understand?”
“Enough. I'm not against smacking sense into you, kid. Bruises heal. I'm trying to teach you gentle, but we can do rough if we have to. Dan's here to help me move you in. Yer sharin’ a room with him anyway. Now, I'm gonna tell you a little story about your old man. You know why he was so desperate for you to do his work for him?”
“See, you know he's got debt to me. He's as broke as you are, so he'd be workin’ just like you if you were here. Thing is. The bastard's a lazy cunt. I've had him before. We got bored of him, me and the boys. You know what we ended up doing with him? When he came to work on the farm, we'd strip him, chain him up close to wherever we were working. Then when we needed a liddle relief, we'd walk over. And we'd do what men need to do. You get my drift, aye? Course you do. You're a smart lad.”
“Anyway, he figured we'd do the same to you. But you’ve got a good heart in you. I wanted to give you a chance to try real work before I let Dan have his way with you.”
“Calm down. I told you already, didn't I? You're better than him, so we ain't gonna treat you like him. We'll be gentle with you. There's gonna be rules. You get to sleep in Big Dan's bed at night. He's a big softie, and he loves that gay shit, you'll be in good hands. He always wanted a fag to treat like a pet instead of a pest. You'll be well fed. When we tie you up, it'll be with nice fancy rope. Something soft to lie on, shade to keep you out the sun, food and water in arm's length. We'll take it slow, teach you gradual. Sweet and soft. Cause we like you, kid.”
“Enough yap. Dan must be gettin’ bored, and I already told him he won't have to keep his hands off you for much longer. We gotta get a move on, else he'll end up puttin’ you on your knees in front of your dad, and I know you don't want that. Let's go.”
Barric is amused to discover that his human has a humiliating kink.
Barric yawned as he ferried Igrim back to his tent for the night. The sun was setting. He lit a candle and looked down. This was as good a time as any. The human was happy, a little service would do him no harm. A friendly growl and a wink was enough to catch his attention. Then he removed his shirt. Just like that, the little man's cool crumbled. Barric resisted the urge to laugh at him. First of all, he wrestled the little man out of his own shirt. He didn’t need that. He took a small wrist and set it on his chest, letting the human squeeze muscle in his little hands. Palpable awe. Barric flexed for him. Then he winced. Dinner wasn't agreeing with him. A rumble in his guts. Barric grunted, letting gas seep out of his rear. A small hand pulled back. He examined the small man's reaction. Screwed up nose. Little growls of disgust. All normal. There was something half-hearted about the little man’s complaints, though. He looked down. Sure enough, a tent in the human’s breeches. That was… unexpected. But not unwelcome. A human's duty was to worship. In the future, Barric was hardly going to stop riding his boy’s face because of a little gas. It would be much easier for his human if he enjoyed the process. He moved his eyes back up. An odd quiet. Barric smirked. Someone was embarrassed. He liked that. Now came talking. A lot of talking. Excuses, justifications, defensive stammers. Barric watched him, grinning, formulating his plan of attack. In the end, he went with the simplest option. He gave the human a shove onto the bed. He turned around. He planted a foot either side of the little man's torso and squatted slowly down. The rising tempo of protests and yapping. The build of gas inside him. Finally, it struck. Barric’s gas tore through the little man's voice. Loud and foul. A moment of silence. Then the boy tried to scrabble out of his shadow, coughing. Barric reached down to wrap his fingers in the little man's hair, pulling him back in. Desperate struggling. Barric dragged him in, enjoying the feeling of futile struggles. The floodgates were open now, unstoppable, even if he had any intention to close them. His stench already curled around them. He flexed his gut, squeezing with his core, just to see if he could hold it in long enough to get his filter in place. He lowered back and down. The human’s head tried to twist in his palm. Pathetically weak. Barric huffed, amused, as he felt skin tickling the forest of his crack. He listened to the little man's breathing. In and out. Faster, now. He paused.
“Slow.” Confusion. Barric twisted to look down at him, gesturing at his chest. “Breathe.” He inhaled deep. The little man followed his command, nose wrinkling. “Out.” Lead by example. The little man had the idea now. In and out, in and out, until the human's breath was slowed once more.
“In.” Almost there, now. Barric's moment was approaching. He turned slowly back around, keeping his movements careful, the little man too focused to see Barric's arse bearing back down on him.
“Out.” Right to the end, when all his breath was gone, just when he would need the deepest breath yet. Then Barric, in a affectionate display of power, relaxed, shoving the head in his palm deep between his sweaty arsecheeks. Pleasure as his bowels relaxed. Stinking gas flooded the room. And the little man, of course, breathed in every last atom. Barric let him go and chuckled, turning around to watch his body fall back and his eyes go glassy, trying desperately to hold on, something like a sob tearing its way out of his throat. He chuckled, watching the little man roll over in raw, overstimulated disgust. A good reaction. He stood up for a moment to get ready. Barric took off his trousers slowly. His ass was already free. There was no point in underwear with a back when he was just going to sweat through it. The little man was up again now. Looking scared and hopeful and red-faced. Barric clicked his fingers for attention. What was the word? He had learnt it. It had been a necessary conversation. He had allowed himself a little too much leeway when they met. He turned the word over in his mouth, human syllables still feeling awkward to him. Fragile and muddled against his tusks.
“Word. Safeword.” He switched back to Orcish. “Last chance.” The human's mouth stayed sealed. Barric ruffled his hair. Then he manhandled him back onto the bed. The usual struggling. Barric had realised by now that this was something the little man enjoyed. Half the fun for him seemed to be in pretending that he didn’t willingly turn up at Barric’s bed every evening. Soon he had a very small human beneath him. He got on his knees, positioning human limbs just right. He couldn't have little hands protecting the human's nose. Then he sat down. That was the end of the little man's whining. Barric was free to unload. He hadn't been holding it in, really. He never did. He just hadn't really studied the little human's reactions properly. The little man was lucky. Orcs were not sweet-smelling creatures. Barric always had plenty of gas in him. He settled back, getting comfortable, feeling a little nose struggling in his crack. There was no hurry. They had a quiet evening ahead. He tugged at the little man's breeches. The tear of fabric. He considered it for a moment, then tore the rest off in one stroke. No point wasting time. A weak attempt at a protest, silenced by another blast of his gas. The human’s cock, of course, was standing to attention. It wasn't that important right now. He just wanted the little man stripped for the sake of humiliation. He tugged over a fur so the boy didn't get cold, then chuckled as he felt gas roiling inside him. Heat. Foul winds, building inside him, before they finally escaped, stinking and wet. Trial by fetid miasma. A losing battle. It didn't matter what action the boy took now. All roads led to Barric’s fumes, breaking him down. Muffled coughing. Small hands, tapping desperately as they reached beneath his fat arse. Barric huffed, releasing another blast of rotten air as a reward. The willpower to keep on struggling was impressive. Barric’s teaching was interrupted by a voice. Not very deep. Human, in fact. In stilted Orcish. Barric growled.
“Fuck off.” Again. An insistent call. Barric released one last irritated gust into his toy and stood up. A small weight fell to the floor behind him. Grateful breaths behind him as he stomped to the entrance. He tore it open, scowling out. A human. He had better understand Orcish if he wanted to talk.
“Your friend is breathing gas. We’re busy.” The human sputtered out, mouth still open. Eyes, darting up and down his body. They flicked to his side. Towards Barric's toy. Barric growled. The human had something in his hand. He swiped it. The spare knife he had been waiting for. He flipped the human a coin.
“Tell your blacksmith I appreciate his craft. Now fuck off.” He closed the entrance. There was movement in the corner of his eye. The human. Planning one of his little games. He turned the knife over in his hands, faking ignorance. Sure enough. The intake of a breath then a small form tried to dash past him. Still sluggish from his ordeal. A quick swat sent the human onto the ground. Then he sprung up again. Smoothly. Barric huffed.
“I haven't ruined your lungs well enough.” He supposed it was inevitable. He was an ex-soldier. There had to be some kind of toughness about him. He smirked. A pity. It meant nothing in the face of this kind of power gap. He brushed off an attempted jab. A curse. So gentle, on a human tongue. Barric snorted. He let a couple of blows glance off his belly and his arms. He bent at the knees and waited. Finally, an attempt at a grab. He stood up, the little man’s feet leaving the ground as he clung on. A belated attempt to let go and get his feet back on the ground. Barric stepped in as he landed, swept his still-unstable feet from under him, and crouched down, landing a foot gently on an arm. The human blinked beneath him, processing his defeat.
“Yield.” A glare. He lowered his weight down. Just a little. A wince and the little man went limp. Barric twisted an ear between thumb and forefinger, hauling his would-be escapee back to where a human belonged. An easy shove. The human stumbled forwards, turning to sit on his ass, watching Barric approach.
“Dramatic little bastard.” He turned around, clicking his fingers behind him. The human squeaked. “Now.” He lowered himself back down, waiting for a small face to slot back where it belonged. The human dragged his feet.
“If I have to force you, boy, you can forget sniffing my gas. I'll make you my goddamn toilet.” Obviously, the human couldn't understand that kind of Orcish. But the message seemed to get across. A little nose nuzzled against the fur of his crack. He planted a hand on the back of the human’s head and pulled him in, falling back into the nest of furs. Gently, not fast enough to break anything, just a reminder of who was in charge. From here, he could relax. His balls landed heavily on the human's chest. He gathered another fur to keep the human's lower half warm. Now it was Barric's turn to get comfortable. He ground down. A festering release. A small leg jerked. Barric paused, feeling the movement of the human's limbs as he inhaled another noxious gale.
“Barric!” He snarled as he heard another voice. The tent entrance lifted abruptly. He glared upwards, then recognition hit him.
“Ah. Fuck. Odhran.” Grey skin. Fat bastard. Dressed in an approximation of human clothing, as befitted a mediator.
“That's no way to greet me.” He forgot this was planned. The man handed him a bowl. “Why are you in bed? Where's this human you said I could meet?” Barric huffed, accompanying it with another stinking fart. The man looked down as human limbs twitched beneath the sheets.
“Barric. You told me I could meet him.” Barric considered this.
“Yes. Plans… changed. Trial by stench.”
“I can see that. You know, I brought food for all of us. Human included.” Barric scratched his head.
“Hmm. I could stop. Promised you a meal first.”
“I'm fucking with you. I don't mind a show, you know that. I'll leave this one here for your boy.”
“He appreciates it.”
“Sure he does.” Odhran sat down, crossing his legs. “You don't mind me watching?”
“Of course not. I had a human interrupt earlier. That was worse. He was in the way.”
“Mmhmm.” A brow creased. “I thought he was new, though? Isn't this too much?” Barric pulled back the covers, flicking a small cock.
“Already a fart sniffer. No training needed.” A chuckle.
“Barric… bloody hell. This is a human. You can’t break him in slowly?”
“No. It's what he was born for.” Odhran shook his head.
“Alright. You know I won't stop you. You always had a fascinating way with humans. Let's eat.” It was a pleasant way to spend an evening. Scour the little man's olfactory system, talk with Odhran. Or let Odhran talk to him, anyway. Chatty bastard. That was what happened when you talked to humans too much. You lost the ability to shut up. His guts rumbled and he focused for a moment. Feel heat and wetness build, then release, the sound muted as it hit a small face. The vibrations of exhaustion and disgust and arousal against his hole. It felt good. The boy gave up eventually. The occasional lifeless little kick. Barric had a suspicion he wasn't conscious for much of the evening. Bitten off more than he could chew. Orcish gas was no small ordeal for the uninitiated human. It was fine. He was safe, he was happy, just overwhelmed. He leaned back against his cushions and yawned.
“Alright. This ends soon, please. I enjoy your company, but me and the boy are going to bed soon.” Odhran gave him a lopsided grin.
“Done with company? You still seem to have a lot of patience for him.”
“Eh. Puppy. Not the same thing.” An amused shake of Odhran’s head. He disappeared into the night with a wave. Barric yawned. He took a look around, making sure everything was in order, relaxing one last time to let out a final stinking fart. Finally, Barric got up. A little face stuck in his crack for a moment. He let gravity peel the little man off until he fell down with a squelch and a gasp for breath. Panting exhaustion beneath him. Barric stood up, turning around to study the evening's results. Red faced from his crown to his belly. His chest heaved. Barric’s sweat and whatever else had stained his face a little. That was pretty. Barric bent down for a sniff. He grinned. Pure ass. Even for his Orcish sensibilities, the little man smelled strong. There was no mistaking who he belonged to now. Would he allow the man to shower? Not tonight. He doubted he had the energy to get up. He stretched. Time head to the outhouse. Some things even he wouldn’t subject a human to. He tugged off his dirty loincloth, wrapping it around the human’s head so he had something to sniff while he was away, then headed out.
The last few minutes were a blur, following the giant up the road to a massive van. A click as the key turned and huge doors opened.
“Get in there.” Jake climbed into the darkness. A couple of vents letting evening light filter in. An oversized palm gave him a smack on the ass, knocking him further in, then the brute climbed up behind him and shut the door. A click. Dim light slowly filled the space. A wide interior. Buckets. A stepladder, spare parts. Jake fidgeted uncomfortably. His underwear was beginning to solidify. Damp and crusty in all the wrong ways.
“I, uh. Got to take off my pants.”
“Can't believe you jizzed in your little pants. Someone needs to teach you some fuckin’ discipline.”
“That was -” a stoney glare. He shut up. The giant chucked him a blanket. He automatically brought to it to his face and sniffed, then he forced his hands down, feeling his face glow red.
“Pervert.” Jake's trousers were sweaty from the bus ride. He covered up with the blanket, wincing as he peeled off his underwear. Something out the corner of his eyes. He ducked. A pack of wipes hit the wall behind him. An unrepentant stare from his assailant. He cleaned himself up. There was a rustle as the giant's trousers hit the floor and he swallowed. Massive thighs, huge boxers. A click from impatient fingers.
“Give me that blanket.” Jake inhaled nervously.
“I’m using it.” A big hand tore it easily from his grip. Eyes scanned him up and down. He tugged his shirt down lower. “So. What’s your name?
“Later, boy. Ass up, face down.” The man folded the blanket up and laid it over the stool. He waved his hand towards it. Jake blanched.
“Uh. No. Thank you.” An angry glower.
“The fuck do you mean, no? I got you off rubbing you through your trousers with my pits in your face. You're getting cold feet now I'm offering you a proper fuck?”
“No. I just don't want to die. You are…” he waved his hands at the general situation in front of him. “Too big. Way too big. I think I can at most do… a finger, maybe?” A snort.
“Fuck off. Look.” A big tube shoved into his hands.
“Oh. Anaesthetic lube.”
“That's right. Made for runts to take dick. I'll go slow, work you open careful. But you're not leaving this van unless you're leaking my jizz.” Rough hands snatched the tube back up. Lube squirted over calloused skin. Jake took a step back.
“Hold on. Really slow?”
“Slow enough.” The man reached for him. He hit the wall.
“Wait, wait. No pain?” An irritated grunt.
“More pleasure, nothing that won't heal after a couple of days in bed.” The giant hooked him by the collar. Inescapable strength, tugging forwards.
“I didn’t prep!”
“I don’t give a shit. Get on the fucking floor.“ The brute hauled him away from the wall. A meaty hand squeezed his ass, smearing him with lube. Oversized muscles shoved him down onto all fours, a chuckle ringing out. “Runt.”
“I’m not the abnormal one here.” More cold lube on his ass. He winced. “I think it’s supposed to go on my arsehole, not the rest of me.” A growl.
“You just want me to use spit?”
“No. Lube is good. I’ll shut up.” A grunt. Another slap on his ass that nearly sent him flying, then the giant set his thumbs on Jake’s cheeks and tugged them apart. Jake went rigid. He fixed his eyes nervously on the floor. The sound of shifting phlegm, then the man spat a fat wad of saliva over his hole. He yelped. Ignored. A big finger smeared spit over his crack, mixing it up with lube. A sting as the giant flicked his hole. He jumped.
“This’ll take a minute. Stay still.” Hot, warm air tickled his hole. The man’s breath. A rumble, a deep inhale as the man breathed in. Then there was a rush of movement. Bulk forced its way between Jake’s cheeks. The friction of scruff on his taint. Huge hands wrapped around his thighs, pulling him back. A long, flat lick from his balls to his back. He pulled in a shuddering breath. Saliva, dripping down his legs. Wet muscle on his hole, sensation flaring. Sloppy, broad strokes of the giant’s tongue. The wet sound of feasting. Pressure, then Jake ground his teeth together as muscle breached his hole. A satisfied chuckle behind him. The giant pulled back. Jake hissed as the man hawked another glob of spit over his crack. A finger probed. A dissatisfied growl. The brute dug back in, pinning Jake to his face. Finally, he slipped in a finger. Jake shuddered.
“Finally. That’s one.” He pulled his finger out, kicking his boxers over Jake's form. Jake grabbed it instinctively, then stiffened. The man cuffed him over the head. “Stop freezing up. Just sniff it.” He brought it to his face and took a huff. Hour after hour of work, marking his face. Back to tongue. Rough, wet muscle. Ravenous slurping. He shuddered, leaning back into the feeling. A massive hand toyed with his sack, prodding at his hardon, before the giant got back to work. Finally, a second finger at his hole. Jake winced. “Breathe.” Slowly, the giant worked his way in. He bent his fingers, snorting as Jake yelped beneath him. “That’s two.” Another, probing at his hole. A grunt. “Almost.” A thumb, rubbing over his taint. Big wet tongue again, the giant’s fingers slipping in and out. Finally, he stood up, spat on his fingers again, and slid two in. Jake went rigid. “Oi. Breathe.” Jake let out a shuddering breath, staring down at the blanket between his hands. He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax, feeling the sensation lance through his body. The man’s third finger went in with a squelch, catching at the knuckle.
“Three, just about. That’ll do.” The giant pulled out. Jake sat back on his haunches, sniffing at the giant's boxers for comfort. A couple of huge footsteps. The titan’s shirt hung off massive pecs, biceps tearing at the sleeves. Giant fingers clicked and he looked down, feeling his eyes go wide. Was that even possible? The giant was only half-hard. Already bigger than any man he had seen. Maybe it was just proportionate to the rest of him, but Jake was terrified. The giant gave himself a cursory stroke, wiping lube over himself. “Give me some spit, little man. Show me what your lips look like wrapped around my shaft.” Jake let the boxers fall and swallowed nervously. “Calm down. This isn’t a blowie. Just slobber up and down the shaft.” His hand wrapped around Jake's head. He rubbed his dick across Jake's lips. Jake opened up, thick veins pulsing against his skin. A huff off appreciation. Massive fingers tightened in his hair, as if Jake could ever try to get away from a man with this much size on him. The giant pushed Jake's head into his crotch, forcing Jake to slobber over his colossal shaft. Finally, he let Jake's hair go. Movement and weight, heading back around to his behind. A glance over his shoulder. Raw, filthy lust on the man's face as he looked down. The giant spat on his hole again and Davy whimpered.
“Time for the action. Breathe in. Squirm if you need, I’ll hold you where I want you.” Something massive pushed between his cheeks. He froze. Closer. Warm, sticky. The giant's foreskin smeared something over his hole. Colossal hands wrapped around his hips. Unyielding force pulled him backwards. He whimpered. A pleased grunt as the giant stretched him. He arched automatically. Amusement. He screwed up his eyes. Finally, with a slick pop, the giant's head was in. Jake took in a ragged breath. “Less drama. We've barely started.” He fished out his underwear from between Jake's thighs and covered up his mouth, big hand holding over his mouth until he breathed deep. “Hold that there. Breathe in, breathe out, push back. I’m the one doing all the work here.”
“F-fuck you.” He reached up to bury his face in the sweaty fabric. The force around his hips wasn't even strict. The giant’s arms were relaxed. His pure size made Jake an easy domination. The giant pulled him back another inch. He could feel himself steadily filling up. The pressure got deeper and thicker. His hole strained just to accommodate the sheer size. He looked down at his stomach. A distended lump, the clear imprint of something huge inside. It advanced slowly, filling him up, the giant forcing his way in. Finally, his butt landed in a massive bush. Big balls tickled the back of his thighs. He breathed in a ragged breath, feeling the invasion of his abdomen. An impatient rumble.
“Thirty seconds. Get a grip.” Jake took in a couple of breaths. Bulk strained behind him with the effort of holding still. Deep, heavy breathing in his ear. Hips started to move. The giant was out of patience.
“Wait.” No acknowledgement. “Wait! Man! Just - a couple of minutes. Please.”
“You gonna break?”
“I’m not gona fucking - fuck. No, but - fuck.”
“See, you fucking love it. Little slut. And you ain’t bleeding. So shut it. A few minutes and you’ll be fine.” The pressure inside him started to shift again. Wet squelching as the giant pulled out, girth tugging at his hole. A colossal cockhead caught at his hole. A grunt. The giant buried himself in Jake's hole with one dominant, forceful thrust. The casual, inescapable grip around his hips held him in place, halfway between chains and supports.
“Arch your back, boy.” The van creaked around them. Dirty, muscular bulk, piledriving in. There was sweat dripping over Jake's back. The scene was filthy. From the outside, the silhouette of towering dirty bulk, unloading each colossal thrust in raw animal pleasure, bouncing Jake on his hips like a toy. Jake's strength was gone now. The only driving force was the giant, using Jake how he wanted, grunting in animal pleasure. A growl. The man slowed down for a moment and ran a hand over Jake's stomach, feeling the imprint of his dick pushing out the skin. A rumbling chuckle. The hand on his stomach suddenly formed an iron bar. He stood up. Jake swore as he went soaring up. One hand under his arms, the other beneath his legs. “Fuck, that's tight fucking hole.”
“Will you-” A snarl. The giant squeezed. Jake yelped as muscle pushed in, legs twisting just a little too far.
“I told you to shut up. If I have to tell you again, I'll stuff my boxers in your mouth. Stop fucking whining. Your job is to submit and squeal on my cock. That's it.”The man pulled out. A huff as his cock popped out with a wet squelch. “Fuck.” The man lined up again. Jake squeezed his eyes shut. Another painful feeling of fullness, building in his gut. The slick sounds of giant cock filling his ass. Finally, the man's trunk was back in place. He could feel veins throbbing against his hole. The giant lifted him up, then drove him down with a grunt. The giant bounced him up and down, cock pumping in and out of his hole. Drops of liquid were hitting the floor. Spit and saliva, pre and lube. Jake just took deep breaths and tried to stay awake. It was a while of this before the giant said anything else. An irritated growl.
“Fuck’s sake. Why can I never get the angle right?” Jake tried to open his mouth. All that came out was a whimper. It was just the giant now, using him as he felt. His orgasm was inevitable. Not even a single finger touching him. Just a sudden, anticlimactic squirt, splattering across the van's floor. The giant didn't even notice, busy looking around for his next position. He kicked the stool aside and got down on his knees. He lay down on his jacket, flattening Jake beneath him, pounding him into the floor. Jake yelped. A big hand wrapped around his face, the giant's thumb slotting into his mouth to shut him up. The giant's other hand pushed his back into an arch, then pulled up his hips.
“Hold it there.” The giant shoved the blanket back beneath him for good measure, then massive hips slammed him into the floor. Creaking as the van shook around them. The giant took what he wanted hard and rough. No breaks, no patience. Just a thumb in his mouth, a huge dick in his ass, a mountain of muscle crushing him into the floor. Hot, sweaty, smelly. Jake whimpered as he felt his toes curl. “You like that, runt?” He came again. The giant growled as he plunged his cock in, again and again. A final, guttural snarl and he pulled Jake's hips flush again at the base of his cock. A few shallow thrusts. He kept Jake glued down. Then he laid down. Jake squeaked beneath him.
“You’re fine.” A big hand ruffled his hair, then the giant settled in, ignoring Jake’s attempts to struggle. A few minutes went by. For a minute, Jake was worried he had fallen asleep. Eventually, the giant yawned. “Alright.” He pulled out slowly. Even soft, the head got caught. An irritated grunt. A hand at his hole, then Jake whimpered as a filthy pop rang out. The gush of liquid down Jake’s thighs. A dirty chuckle. The giant squeezed his sore ass. Jake yelped. The man got up, grabbing Jake’s shirt. He wiped off his pits, then his dick, ignoring Jake’s complaints.
“That was just fucking rude. What am I supposed to wear now?”
“You’ve got my load leaking out your arse. You aren't wearing shit.” Jake held it up. Half the shirt was wet with the giant’s jizz and sweat. The man dumped more fabric over his head. A big shirt. That was better. He pulled it on and looked up.
“So, uh. What now?” A snort.
“You’re in no shape to head home. You spend the night with me.”
“Okay.” Jake reached for his trousers. A big hand swatted his hand away.
“Leave them.” Gingerly, Jake got to his feet. His knees buckled and the giant caught him, propping him up against his side. “Hold this.” An absorbent mat.
“Isn’t this what you use to toilet train puppies?”
“Yes. Round to the front.” He opened up the van doors. Mercifully, an empty street. The giant half-lifted him down onto the street. Huge hands corralled him around to the side, opening up the door. He grabbed the mat off Jake, laying it over the seat. Big hands wrapped around his torso and lifted. Jake yelped, hanging onto the shirt. The giant dumped a big, fluffy towel over him. Then he reached for Jake's seatbelt.
“I can do that.” Ignored. The giant belted him in, giving the strap a tug, then ruffled his hair roughly. “That was just patronising.”
“Shut up.” There was a strange sort of affection in his voice. Jake settled in as the door closed and the giant went around to the driver’s seat. General noise and movement and heat as the giant set himself up. A big hand tugged at Jake's seatbelt again. The giant turned the key and the van started up.
A lift breaks down, resulting in a permanent change for one of the men stuck inside.
Hyde could already see the doors closing as he turned the corner. He raised his voice, hoping that whoever was inside would listen.
“Uh - sorry! Could I -” A burly arm reached out to stop the doors. He ducked in gratefully. “Thank you - uh-” A heavyset man. Square jaw. Brown skin, warm eyes, hair damp from what was presumably sweat.
“You're welcome, son.” He couldn't quite meet the man's eyes. The floor above his was lit up already. Out the corner of his eye, he saw the man's head tilted away. Hyde couldn't resist it. He let himself look. Powerful build. Sweat staining his chest and sides. Calloused, meaty hands, resting casually at his sides. A shift. He looked away too late. A split second where the man's eyes met his, a curious look. He fixed his eyes on the wall, praying the heat rising up his chest wasn't showing. He was saved by a new noise. The screech of metal on metal. A screech. He winced. A rumble. He staggered as the lift shook, grinding to a halt.
“Fuck!” He leaned against the wall, panting. Next to him, the man stepped closer.
“Relax. Panicking won't help us. We just broke down, did we?” Hyde ground his teeth.
“You're fucking kidding me. Now?” The man was already inspecting the doors. Hyde looked around wildly. There. Beneath the floor numbers, a yellow alarm button. He pressed and held. Dial tone. A pause, background static kicked in, and a tired voice answered.
“Hi there. Plot Device Engineering, at your service, what's your emergency?” The man next to Hyde set a hand on his shoulder, stepping forward.
“We're stuck, mate. Lift's broken between floors.” An exhausted sigh.
“Let me see. I have your location. Any movement in the lift? Noises, vibrations, anything visibly broken?”
“Not really, mate. Just nothing happening.”
“Let's see… there's no particularly bad alarm bell going off. This one did need maintenance. It wasn't a critical failure, just a problem with stalling, I think that's what happens. It was due for maintenance … two weeks time. The camera in this particular lift needs replacing as well, so I'm afraid I can't see you, but you shouldn't be in any immediate danger, sir. I'm sending an engineer over as soon as possible. I'm very sorry about the inconvenience, sir, but can you hold on?”
“How long, mate?”
“Probably a couple of hours, sir. I'm very sorry. Our nearest engineer is on another job a while away. I'm sending him direct to you, a broken lift is a lot more important, but it'll still be a while.”
“Tch. Bloody annoying. Not your fault, mate. I'll find someone else to get pissed off at once I'm out. Anything else I need to be aware of?”
“Shouldn’t be, sir. Press the button again if there's any kind of change. I'll reopen the channel when the engineer is close, put him through so you can communicate. Otherwise, I'm afraid there's not a lot I can do, unless you want me to stay on the line for company.” Hyde crossed his arms, feeling his mouth set into a hard line. The stranger next to him squeezed his shoulder.
“Nah, nah. You've got other things to do. Thanks for your help.”
“Appreciated, sir. I'll reopen the channel soon.” The background static disappeared. Hyde put his hand over his forehead.
“Hands off.” The man let go.
“Apologies, son. Instinct. You seem like you need some company.” Hyde turned towards him. An eyebrow raised. This man was… wide. Too wide. Hyde tapped his foot restlessly, then turned away.
“I’m not your son.”
“Humour me.” Hyde swallowed. He needed something to do with his hands. He took out his phone. No connection.
“Ugh. Can't get no fucking signal here.”
“Mine's still working. Anyone urgent you need to call?”
“Not if I'm stuck in a fucking lift, is there?”
“Alright. Let me text the husband, I don't him on my back when I get home.” Hyde folded his arms back up and turned towards the wall, staring at the metal. Reflective. A slow, measured glance. The man put his phone away. Warm eyes, stuck on his.
“Hmm. How about this. We're stuck together for a while. It would help me feel better if I knew who I was stuck with. Let's have a chat.” Hyde flipped his phone over in his hand.
“Well - fuck. Fine. Or, sorry. I'm not trying to be a dick.” Hyde felt a strange feeling building at his temples. He shook his head. “You alright, son?”
“Uh. Yeah. Just feeling a bit rough.”
“Hmm.” The man's eyes swept up and down. “Let’s pause a moment.” Bulk lowered to the floor, a meaty hand patting the floor next to him.
“Ah - it's not an issue. Just give me some space.”
“Sit.” Hyde sat. Heat, running through his brain. He could… feel everything. Heat. Sweat, running down his arm. Masculine scent, heavy in his nose.
“Ugh. Something feels strange. Sorry to end this conversation before it begins.”
“There's no pressure, son. First and foremost, everyone needs to come out the lift okay. What's wrong?”
“Don’t worry about it. I'll just… you know. Sweat it out in the corner.” A hand got his arm as he shifted away.
“Son…” an exhale. “How about this? I.. enjoy taking care of people. I like making them feel safe. So you stay close. You tell me how you feel.” Hyde winced.
“What is this? Some kind of fetish thing?”
“Something like that. I don't like seeing you in pain, and I'm hardly going to spend the next few hours ignoring you as the hot flashes build.” Hyde nodded. Then his brow creased.
“You know I'm having hot flashes?”
“Yes, son, I can see it. You're bright red, your temperature feels off.” Hyde rubbed his temples.
“Right.” He blinked. “It's so fucking hot in here. Fuck knows what's happening to me.”
“I’m sure it'll pass, son.” Hyde leaned into him. It was… surprisingly nice. His bulk was safe. A different kind of warm. Gentle warmth, somehow soothing, even with his temperature rising. Embarrassingly, he could still feel attraction building. “Still healthy enough to get it up, hmm?”
“Eh. Yeah, sorry. You sure you don't want me to give you some space?”
“I'm sure. Relax. What's your name, son?”
“Uh. Hyde. Sir.” The man was bigger than he had thought. Had he been slouching when the elevator first started moving? Not to mention, Hyde's shirt felt too big. He knew it wasn't. This one was a good fit. He tugged at the collar. Too big.
“Sorry. I think… something's wrong.” A heavy sigh.
“I know, son. The process started quickly with you, huh.”
“Fuck. What do - what do you mean?” He felt weak. The giant wrapped two meaty paws around his waist, lifting him into his lap, shushing him gently.
“I'm sorry about this, son. I really am. Just cuddle up real close. I'll take care of you.”
Hyde moaned into his chest.
“What-”
“It's my scent, son. Pheromones, if you want to be scientific about it.” The man licked his thumb, rubbing at something on Hyde's nose. “It's normally not an issue. It needs strong mutual attraction, it needs me to be in the same place as someone for some time, it's particularly slow so long as I keep myself showered. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Hyde whimpered into his massive form, cock throbbing. “Ah. I guess there's no harm in it, son. You may as well enjoy the process.” The giant dipped his thumb gently down his trousers. Impossibly big. Bigger than his dick, somehow. And it felt almost like it was getting bigger. Massive arms wrapped around him. Gentle. Unstoppable.
“Let's get you out of these oversized clothes.” The giant stripped him easily, murmuring gentle reassurances as Hyde struggled weakly.
“You’ve told me your name. I'm Akhan, son. Daddy is fine as well. Better, really. It'll be a day or two before you're forming coherent sentences anyway, the transformation is always rough.” Heat, pulsing through Hyde's skull. He curled up in the safety of a vast lap. Akhan lifted him up into his arms, tucking him against his chest. “All the same, I'll try to explain everything to you. Maybe some of it will stick. Help soothe the panic when you get your senses back. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?” A soft beard rubbed over his skull. “Me and my husband met in a scientific trial. Greatest thing to ever happen to me in my life, but it does cause some complications. We need to be careful, or we shrink men down. And we are careful, son. But every so often, life just happens. You're the… fifth, maybe? My fifth. Karim - that's my husband, son - he's done a few more. Careless fucker, but I do love him.” Silence for a little. Akhan adjusted his grip, a little tighter around Hyde's shrinking form. The thumb against his crotch was patient and strong. “A lot of the time, we re-home our little men. We can't keep 'em all. It takes a lot of vetting, we don't want to hand you guys out to anyone who’ll abuse you, but there's always someone who'll take a little man in. You, though. Both the ones we have are Karim's boys. He shrank them, not me. I think it's my turn.” Akhan yawned and leaned back against the side of the lift, rubbing the nape of Hyde's skull. “You know, lad, you're shrinking fast. Some folks only lose a foot. Not even enough to keep them, we just let them go, generally just apologise for shrinking them. Others, they generally stop around - well, one or two feet. You're already at the bottom of that, and still going.” Hyde tensed up in his arms. A gentle chuckle. “Almost there? Let me see that little face.” Akhan pulled his arms away from his face carefully. Hyde squeezed his eyes shut as he came, bucking into Akhan’s colossal hand. “Oh, you're cute when you come.” The giant licked his fingers clean. Hyde collapsed against him, the last of his resistance gone, burying his face in a sweaty belly. “What are you now, lad? Less than one foot. Finally slowing down. Maybe… four inches, huh? I don't think I've ever shrank one this much. You might just be a new record. Now, listen carefully. Best you can, I know you're a little out of it. The next couple of days will be a bit confusing. You're going to want lots of cuddles, lots of stink. You just have to rely on me.” Hyde whimpered into him. Akhan's frame still felt like it was changing. From beefy, to giant, now to godlike scale, the thigh beneath him laden with impossible muscle.
Akhan huffed, shaking his head ruefully. The boy was lost. He folded up all the discarded clothes neatly, tucking them into his gym bag with Hyde's shoes. In went his phone, earbuds, wallet. Too big for him to use now. Then he unzipped his trousers. There went the man himself, whimpering at Akhan's touch. Tucked safe into his new owner's underwear, snug between his cock and balls. Snuffling at Akhan's balls like they were his whole world. There wasn't much to do now but wait. He picked up his phone. Fast reply.
“You okay? Still in the lift?”
“Yeah, nothing’s gone wrong, hon. I'm still safe. There's just been a bit of a complication with the lad I got stuck with.”
“You shrunk him?
“I did.”
“Finally! I'm so done with you taking the piss. It's been years since you fucked up. You want me to start calling some folks? See if we can find him a new home?”
“Nah. I don't think I want to adopt this one out. He can stay with us. He's a tiny little thing. Smallest I've done yet. Won't take up any space at all. If anything, I can just stick him down my trousers when I'm working, the company'll be nice. That's where I got him right now. Snuggled up against my sweaty balls. He's having the time of his life, little scamp.”
“Wait, how big? Fits down your trousers?”
“Easily.” He pulled open his waistband to get a glimpse of his passenger. “Bloody hell, he shrank again. Two inches, I think.”
“That's adorable.”
“I know. I already have soft spot for him. It's the size, and these sweet little eyes. He looked so confused when he was shrinking.”
“If he's that small we'll probably want him on a tight leash.”
“Yeah, I think so. Love you. See you later.”
“Love you.” Karim hung up. Akhan leaned back against the side of the elevator. Tiny little movements. He reached down. “Shh. Settle, son.” A little prod deeper into his musk and the boy folded again. He yawned and pulled up a video to watch while he waited.
In the end, it was only another half hour until rescue finally came. Much quicker than they had been told. He reached down his trousers to stroke his passenger as he heard a clank on the other side of the door. “Oh, sweetheart. You just couldn't hold out that extra half an hour, hmm?” Metal on metal. Then a voice from somewhere nearby, calling up.
“Can you hear me? I'm here to fix the lift. Everybody okay?” A man, by the sounds of it.
“I can hear you. I'm doing just fine, don't you worry. You're here to help, are you?”
“Yeah mate. Shouldn't be too long now. We can lower the lift to the last floor, get you out there, then I'll handle the rest of the maintenance. There's gonna be a bit of a lurch as we get you down.”
“Good man.” A wriggle. He squeezed his bulge idly, lowering his voice. “Yes, sweetheart. You're a good boy as well. Let me talk to the man for a minute.” The lift shook, then ground into action, gravity shifting around him. A nervous twitch against his balls. “Shh. I got you.” The lift ground to a halt once more. The door opened. Smooth enough. An engineer greeted him. Worked out, clearly. Some impressive tattoos. Eyes travelled up and down his body. Akhan let the corner of his mouth lift in response. It was lucky he wasn't trapped with this one. One little man was quite enough for one day.
“Just you in the lift, mate?”
“Just me.” Nestled against sweaty warmth, his new boy had just enough fight left to wriggle and make a feeble whine. But his voice was too faint. Akhan adjusted his bulge gently through his trousers to bury him deeper and went about his day.
You turned a corner and drove your car up the winding drive from your boyfriend, Michael’s, house.
Well, that was mostly untrue.
While you drove it, filled it with gas, and paid for its maintenance, the car was still legally owned by your parents. You just had it because it was your graduation present once you moved out to college.
It also was not Michael’s house, it was his dad’s and one of the spoils from his time as a professional star football player. His legacy was before your time, but you did know that once he retired from the league, he took all his earnings and various promotional deals to wisely invest to officially retire from the workforce at an early age.
Even then, it was not just a house, it was technically a manor with multiple floors and sprawling wings, but Michael never liked to refer to it as such. Regardless of the official classification, it was much bigger than the tiny college apartment complex you were living in. Because of that, ever since you two started seeing each other, Michael has always offered to hang out at his place.
Between his dad’s legacy and wealth, it was no surprise that Michel had the genetics and means to get into football early in life and stay in it to get accepted on a scholarship to join your college’s team. Even with your short time together, you knew he had the drive to push himself to make a name for himself as one of the star players in his junior year, with whispers of being good enough to get signed by the beg leagues as soon as he graduated.
You finally reached the end of the driveway and pulled in between a set of cars that were well out of your paycheck. You got out of the car and made your way through the front door. Even though you have been dating Michael for a few months, and you two planned to hang out today, and he gave you express permission, it still felt intrusive walking in by yourself.
You walked down past the grand foyer and headed into the living room. You sat down on one of the sofas and waited for Michael. Off in some distant part of the house, you could hear the sound of a shower running.
‘Must be him,’ you thought to yourself. As you waited for him to be done, you also allowed yourself to ease back into the seat as you admired the room around you.
Just like the exterior of the house, the living room was big and grand, professionally decorated to be the ultimate Sunday night football man cave.
The walls were decorated with memorabilia and prints of Michael’s father’s time as an athlete, along with his jersey framed and hung up high on the far wall. Across from that was the massive flatscreen TV with a movie theater-quality sound system. The living room also had a set of luxury leather sofas and easy chairs all facing the TV, surrounding a custom-made coffee table that could keep hot snacks and cold drinks.
You were once invited over for a Super Bowl watch party with Miceal and some of his dad’s friends, and it was the most deluxe, all-encompassing watch party you have ever been to. It started at nine am and carried to the end of overtime with nonstop catered meals, snacks, and drinks. Even though you did not follow sports like Michael or his dad, you still got caught up in the excitement of it all.
As you were finished reminiscing about the party, the running water stopped, and you heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway towards the living room.
On cue, you turned your head towards the entrance and began to start forming your greeting, “Hey Mic-”
The words died in your throat as your mouth dropped open.
Standing in the spot where you were expecting Michael was instead Brutus, his father. He was standing in the doorway, completely nude save for the towel that he was using to dry off his hair.
Shock and embarrassment crashed through you as you hastily stood up and started blurting out a series of apologies. Yet at the same time, your eyes bulged as they took in the sight because, DAMN!
You have seen Brutus plenty of times before, so you know what he looked like and that he maintained some of his athletic physique from his glory days, but most of it was concealed under his baggy gym shirts and t-shirts.
But now everything was on full display.
He still maintained the athletic physique of his glory years with broad shoulders and burly arms. Yet his retirement softened his frame, he now had chub that only appeared on a man who still worked out regularly but was also no longer beholden to any sports nutritionist and could indulge in the regular beer and fried food night.
While his body was impressive, there were still two major takeaways that your eyes locked in on.
The first thing that struck you was just how hairy he was. You were well aware of the grey hair that covered Brutus’s head and comprised his well-maintained and short beard, you never realized how much more there was under his clothes.
Past his thick neck, the grey hair continued down, peppering his pecs, shoulders, arms, and musclegut stomach with those silver strands. The grey body hair continued all the way down, forming a happy trail to his groin, where his cock and balls hung freely in the open.
And hung was the correct word, The cock was uncut and impressively thick while still flaccid.
You have been with Michael long enough to be frisky with him, and it was evident that Brutus was Michael’s father. Even though the cocks were nearly identical in size and girth, some part of you recognized that Brutus’s had something about his set that made it more tantalizing… it was more mature. Just by looking at it, dangling there, you felt your body temperature begin to rise as something stirred within you.
‘Is this what Michael is going to look like a few decades from now?’ you heard some deep part of your mind say to itself.
It was only here did you realize that you were now officially staring at your boyfriend’s father’s junk. You pulled your eyes away from his cock and dragged them up his body to meet his eyes as you urgently let out another flustered series of apologies.
“S-sorry I… I thought you - you were Michael… And, and…”
Brutus just stood there, face unreadable save for the faintest smirk across his lips.
“Well, with a reaction like that, I can see why Michael likes you,” he said with a chuckle as he finished drying his head.
Brutus continued nonchalantly as he threw the towel over his shoulder, “Michael said that he had to step out to grab a few things for you two.
“It would be awfully inhospitable for me to leave you all by your lonesome,” Brutus added with a glint as he began to turn back towards the hallway, “Here, follow me.”
The last part was less of a suggestion and more of a command.
Your mind was still blindsided by the combination of the abrupt sight, your own shameful reaction, and Brutus’s casual response to it all. Drawing a blank on what other possible actions you could do in this scenario, you just complied.
Brutus did not say a single word beyond that, as you followed him, he did not even look behind to make sure you were there. He just strolled down the hallway as if nothing was amiss. With Brutus looking forward, it allowed you to take in every detail of his backside.
His back was as hairy as he was in the front. Your eyes moved down, taking in how all his seasoned muscles moved as he walked, until you eventually reached his ass. It was almost hypnotic the way his cheeks moved with each step.
‘How many squats does he do?’ you thought to yourself while you kept staring as you and Brutus turned a corner.
It took you longer than you cared to admit that you were heading down a wing of the house that you had never visited before. Every time you have been over, you and Michael mostly stayed in the living room, kitchen, game room, or his bedroom.
The house was so big that there were some places that you never explored. You vaguely remember Michael informing you that somewhere, his dad had a workout station filled with his own exercise equipment.
Eventually, Brutus stopped at a door, grabbed the doorknob, and opened it while silently gesturing to go inside first. Still not thinking straight, you just continued to walk right on into the room while still looking at Brutus as you passed him.
It was only once you passed the threshold that you tore your eyes off of him and forced them to focus on the room you were in, and your jaw dropped again.
You were confronted by all the sights of an actual honest to goodness sex dungeon.
The room itself was huge. It was two or even three times larger than a normal room, with a high ceiling and lit with soft colored light bulbs of reds and blues to cast everything in club lighting. Upon the top half of the walls were hung pictures, equally spaced from each other.
Looking at the ones closest to you, you saw that they were a combination of tasteful or candid photos, with some that looked like they were taken at various and very public festivals. Brutus was in most of them, along with a slew of other men and women, and in every photo, there was plenty of leather or rubber. The kinky Hall of Fame gallery looked like it went back a couple of decades.
The bottom half of the room was adorned with practical decor, much more practical.
Against the farthest wall was a king-sized bed, fitted with shiny black latex sheets. Above that area was a mirror fixed to the ceiling. Off to the side of the bed, a very expensive video camera mounted on a tripod, facing the bed with a classic folding director’s chair next to it. In the other corner, there was an X-cross standing upright with a rolling table tray holding a set of metal instruments.
Standing off by itself was a lighted glass display case that showed a collection of dildos, various exotic shapes and designs from all over the animal kingdom. Next to that was a wall shelf of buttplugs arranged in ascending order from smallest to terrifyingly large. Resting on the floor beneath that was an old-school wooden chest on the floor, overflowing with spare ‘normal’ flesh-colored dildos.
Placed all around the rest of the walls were bright white pegboards that held all the rest of the truly impressive collection of sex toys. Floggers, whips, chains, restraints, paddles, and the rest were all hung on their own spot on the wall with as much care and respect as any other father would have displayed their tools in a garage.
Standing in the middle of the dungeon was what looked like a modified gymnastics pommel horse covered in black leather with cuff restraints attached to each leg. From the way that it was positioned, it looked like it was the most recent item used.
As you continued to gawk at the sight of everything on display, your ears picked up Brutus gently closing the door. It was then followed by his footsteps as he walked behind you and ducked into the room divider that was right next to the door.
You have been with Michael long enough to know that he was very open and forward about his sexuality, often cracking jokes with hints of raunchy undertones. You always assumed that his confidence came from his athletic prowess, you never imagined that it was… hereditary.
“People don’t realize just how much free time you have once you retire.”
You tore your eyes from the sight of the room, and you turned back to Brutus as he stepped out from the room divider. With everything leading up to this, nothing could have surprised you, but that did not mean that your body did not receive another jumpstart.
Brutus was now fully decked out in leather gear.
A black biker cap sat on his grey hair, his chest was adorned with a black chest harness that rested against his pecs. Each of his beefy biceps was sporting an arm band, and the rest of his hairy arms were bare except for a set of bracers on his wrists. His waist continued with the rest of the outfit, with a pair of leather chaps with a set of buttons that ran down each side of the pants’ front pouch. At the bottom, his feet were adorned with tall, heavy duty black biker boots with an intricate pattern of laces running up the front. Everything about that outfit fitted him perfectly.
Your first thought should have been, ‘how was he able to change into that so quickly,’ but a more intrusive part of you was able to inch out with the thought, ‘Fuck, he’s so hot!”
You felt your face reddening, and you tried to convince yourself that it was just your body’s reaction to the uncouth thought and nothing else, yet it did not explain why your pants were getting tighter by the minute.
Brutus allowed you to keep staring before he resumed as if nothing was amiss.
“I wasn’t just the MVP of my team on the field,” he said, nodding to a picture of a younger version of himself on top of a pile of burly dudes wearing the same color jerseys you saw hanging up in the living room.
It was here that the more rational part of your brain came in and used your lungs and mouth to push out another stream of flustered responses.
“Thank you for - I mean sir, for allowing me to come- for showing me this place. But, but- I really ought to get going…. I need to leave. Wha-what if Michael comes back, I don't want him to see, well I guess he already knows about the-....he’s not stupid, not that I thought he was before, athletes can be smart as-, as well. As you are well aware…”
As you struggled to find any excuse that could take you far away from this situation, Brutus just stood there, listening to your inconsistent excuses with a disincredulous look on his face.
When it became painfully clear that your floundering was pointless, you gave up and quieted down. Brutus waited a moment longer before he spoke.
“Now, come on…” he said in a near condescending tone, “if you wanted to bail out, you would have done it long before now. I pegged you as a bottom the moment Michael introduced you to me. I know my son and I know his type.”
“You can try, but your body can’t lie to me,” Brutus ended, nodding down at you.
You followed his motion, looking down at what he was referencing and it was there that was where you had to finally acknowledge your groin.
From just below your belt, you could see that your cock was rock hard. It was straining against the denim fabric, and where your head rested, there was a wet spot of precum on clear display against the light blue of the jeans.
‘He got you there.’
You took a deep sigh and accepted defeat as you brought your gaze back up to Brutus as you verbalized your final hesitation, “What about Michael?”
“Don’t worry about that,” he said with a knowing smirk, “leave that to Daddy.”
Brutus added a bit of inflection on the end of that sentence that pushed a button inside of you that you did not know you had.
Brutus laughed at some expression on your face, “Oh, you’re hooked now. Now that you got a good look at my private lair, what caught your eye?” as he gestured to the dungeon in its entirety.
“I- I don’t know,” you said truthfully as your eyes went back to the display rack of equipment on the walls.
Most of these things you have only seen during your loneliest and most depraved nights on the computer. Even then, there were some pieces of equipment that you did not even know what they did. You did not know if that excited or scared you.
Eventually, your eyes landed upon a particular flogger hanging up on the pegboard wall against a row of similar floggers, paddles, and canes.
The flogger’s tails consisted of flattened black and green leather stripes, with each ending in pleated folds. The base of the tails came together to form a black and green braided handle that spiraled around and concluded to form the wrist strap that it was hung by.
Brutus was watching your eye movements and eventually spoke up when it was clear what you were looking at.
“Ah, that one. That’s a beaut, ain’t it? I picked this one up when I went on vacation to Europe right after I retired,” he said, moving across the room to retrieve the flogger from its hook.
Brutus then turned around and gave the flogger a heady thud against the palm of his free hand.
“Let me tell you, those Europeans know how to throw a pride parade. Some of the things I saw on those streets almost made this old man blush… almost.”
You barely followed what he was saying, all of your attention was on the flogger. You remained focused on how all the tails sailed in an arch, and especially on the sound it made as the mass landed on his hand.
You felt your body begin to squirm as you recognized Brutus’s words enter through your ears and ring true, “Oh yeah, I don’t think I need any more tools for you.”
Brutus kept on talking about something but the tool but you remained transfixed on the near hypnotic movements of the flogger as it moved back and forth in his hand.
You only snapped out of your trance when he stopped and barked out, “Kid, are you even listening to me?”
That question pulled you right out of your stupor. You snapped your eyes back up at Brutus, and you felt your whole body begin to straighten up to full attention as you felt your face redden again.
“As I was saying,” Brutus repeated, reapplying another layer of authority to his voice, “the flogger is a fine tool, but it’s not as effective when there are a few layers of clothes in the way.”
This time, you heard the sentence, but your brain stalled out, trying to fully comprehend the meaning. There was no way that he actually meant what he was implying. You were in the midst of opening your mouth to ask for clarification when Brutus abruptly interrupted you.
“Strip.”
The command was harsh, concise, and spoken with absolute authority. The word carried around the room and resonated deep in your soul and groin.
As if by instinct, your hands went straight to your waist, firmly grabbed the top of your jeans, and yanked both your pants and underpants down in one sudden motion. Your body acted so quickly that you did not have any time to stop and think about the ramifications. Now it was too late to go back.
Looking down at the pile of clothes resting around your bare ankles you also saw your dick flopping in the air, finally free from the pants and standing at full attention. You sheepishly brought your gaze back up to Brutus, who responded with a look of nearly disguised amusement.
“I appreciate the enthusiasm, kid, but stripping means everything,” he said with an extra emphasis on the last word.
Embarrassment dashed through you again for being called out on your mistake as you mumbled out a “Yes, sir.”
You then proceed to awkwardly step out of your pants and remove the socks one at a time before finally pulling off your t-shirt.
Only once you were fully naked did Brutus move from his spot. He resumed his idle playing with the flogger as he started to circle you, making a point to have his boots loudly clack against the floor as he walked. You could feel his eyes move up and down your body, appraising every angle of you.
Brutus ended his inspection by coming back around to stand in front of you, looking you right in the eye as he said, “Judging from your twitching cock, it seems that you have a thing for impact play. I’m definitely going to work that cute little ass of yours with this flogger, that’s for sure but is there anything else you want to explore?”
The question was asked so blunt and open ended that it threw you for a loop. It forced you to come to terms with just how far out of your depth you were, and upon reflex, you began to fall back on your excuses and tried to back down.
“I’ve never done this before, I-I don’t know. This is all too new to m-, I'm not sure if I can be a good-”
You were interrupted by Brutus raising his hand to stop you, “Don’t worry about that kid, I've got plenty of experience for the both of us. Just relax and let me handle it all.”
You shut your mouth and meekly nodded in agreement.
“Do you know what a ‘safe word’ is?”
“Y-yes.”
“Do you have one?”
“No.”
“It’s going to be ‘balloon’ today, got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What is it?”
“Balloon.”
“Good, let’s start.”
Brutus punctuated that last sentence with another hearty ‘thud’ of the flogger against his palm as he began to circle back around you.
Excitement mounted as he left your field of view. ‘Oh god,’ you thought to yourself, ‘this is really happening.’
There was a pregnant pause of anticipation before…
SWAT.
You felt the flogger land across your ass. It was not hard enough to truly hurt, but it was strong enough to sting and no double leave a bit of a mark.
A jolt of excitement ran through your body, which caused your legs to buckle as a surprised gasp escaped your lips.
“You’re going to stand up right when I work you over, got it? And keep your head forward!”
You dutifully obeyed by willing your legs to straighten, squaring your shoulders, and leveling your head as you let out a more confident, “Yes, Sir,” as you braced yourself for more.
SWAT!
This one was more forceful than before, and another burst of pleasure blossomed inside of you.
Despite your best efforts to brace yourself, your body still betrayed you as your body jolted from the impact and let out another gasp. You quickly pulled yourself back up to attention before Brutus called you out again.
SWAT!
This impact had the same force behind it, but it landed on the broadside of your rear. Your body responded in kind, and you had to pull yourself back up again.
From there, a routine began to form between you two. Brutus would deliver you a hit with the flogger across the ass and your body would unabashedly react. He would wait until you composed yourself again before starting all over.
As Brutus wordlessly carried on, he was showing off his expertise by the way he was able to exert control over the pace and delivery.
SWAT!
That one was forceful.
SWAT.
This time it was softer.
SWAT.
That one hit only landed on your left cheek.
SWAT.
Right cheek only.
SWAT
Both cheeks, but only the lower half of each.
SWAT.
Now the top half.
SWAT
A vertical hit, right on the crevice of your cheeks.
Interspersed between the swats on your ass Brutus would tease you by lightly running the flogger down your back, arms and legs, allowing you to feel each of the soft leather tassels.
With the constant variety sensations, your body could never anticipate where the next impact strike would land, which forced your body to remain on high alert and respond to each new hit as if it were the first time.
As he continued to work on you, you felt a Word begin to form in the pit of your chest, but as it formed, you mentally smothered it before it could realize.
‘No,’ you scolded to yourself, feeling a twinge of embarrassment as you brought your attention back to rebuilding your stance.
Despite your best efforts, your body was starting to lose the fight to maintain its composure against the barrage of assaults. It eventually got to the point where your knees were trembling, your breath was coming out in desperate pants and your dick had a string of precum dangling from the head.
When it got to the point where your legs were able to give out from under you at any moment did Brutus finally break his silence.
“Ok, looks like you’re moments away from collapsing. We can’t have that in here… go lie yourself on the pommel horse so we can continue in safety.”
You let out an exasperated sigh of agreement and relief as you hobbled from your spot and over to the leather covered block and flopped your stomach onto it. You savored the cool sensation of the leather sheet against your erect cock it was pressed between it and your body.
You then awkwardly wiggled to align yourself along the wooden structure and finished with propping your ass up in the air.
You heard Brutus let loose an amused chuckle as he began to approach you, “Damn, are you sure that you don’t have any experience because you mounted that thing perfectly.”
You then felt his right hand land on your sensitive ass and gave it a firm squeeze, “I must say you got a fine ass.”
That bit of skin on skin contact and that genuine compliment caused That Word to build up again from within your chest, but you forced it down again. In its place, you pushed out a flustered, “Please spank me.”
You felt Brutus deliberately remove his hand as he simply replied, “Gladly.”
You took a deep breath to try to steady yourself for something that you could barely begin to anticipate.
…
SMACK!
His hand struck your ass and removed itself within one quick motion.
Even with all of your sudden experience with Brutus’s flogger, this was a whole different experience.
This was more potent, more real, more intimate.
Your body responded with a full body spasm against the leather as your eyes bulged from their sockets.
You were able to shout out an astonished “Holy Fuck” but you only was able to pronounce the first word before his hand came back down again to deliver another powerful SMACK!
“Oh, there’s nothing holy here, but you are welcome to engage in plenty of worship~” Brutus interjected with an audible smirk.
SMACK!
Brutus carried on with this near militant delivery on your rear with the same mastery of intensity, frequency, and targeting that he had with the flogger.
This time around, there was no need to steel yourself to maintain your posture or even stand up. That allowed you to fully indulge in the experience in its entirety, and that came with you giving in and letting your body respond with the way it wanted, with whatever desperate moan it saw fit.
SMACK!
SMACK.
SMACK.
Brutus kept varying up the speed and location he spanked you as well as throwing you a few breaks as he mixed in some squeezes, shakes, and groping of your ass and thighs. He rose to meet your response of unleashed moans by sprinkling some assuring comments.
SMACK!
“Atta boy.”
SMACK.
“Don’t bother resisting, let it all out.”
SMACK!
“That’s right, keep that ass up.”
Brutus even gave you the courtesy of sliding his hand underneath your hips to drag out and then reposition your dick and balls so that they hung free and exposed over the edge of the pommel horse.
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!!
Each spank caused stars to flash in front of your eyes as you felt yourself get pushed closer and closer to the edge of climax.
The easing up on your external composure also came with the relaxation of your internal restraint.
That Word inside of you stirred and decided to make a break for it. A logical part of you mentally cried out in protest and tried to stop The Word from escaping, but another blow from Brutus caused the attempt to be washed away in another wave of pleasure.
The Word dashed up your throat and wrangled your tongue and jaw into position and readied itself to be set free with the next overwhelmed exhale that you would make from the next spank.
SMACK!
“Daddy!~”
Your hands shot up and clasped around your mouth as mortified embarrassment replaced all the arousal that you had, but it was too late.
The silence hung in the air as Brutus stopped when he heard what you said.
Before you could even start to think about all the implications of your actions, Brutus let out a low rumbling laughter from behind you.
“Oh, the sub has a Daddy kink, huh?” he said with amusement, “Is that what I am to you?”
You began to shake your head but Brutus interrupted you by bringing his hand down on your ass and giving it a firm squeeze.
“No use lying to me now… Be honest,” he commanded.
There was no way to walk this back,
You took another deep breath through your nose and slowly removed your hands from your mouth, and willed yourself to reply truthfully.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Brututs gave your ass another squeeze and shook it, “See champ, doesn’t it feel good to tell the truth?”
You just nodded your head in agreement. He was right.
You steadied yourself and spoke from your heart, “Please fuck me Daddy.”
A harsh bark came from Brutus, “Thought you would never ask!”
Brutus gave your ass another good slap before stepping away to head to one of the numerous side tables around the room. He grabbed something and quickly returned to his position. Brutus shook something in his hand, and your ears were filled with the sound of viscous fluid sloshing in a container.
“In all my many, MANY travels I’ve found that this stuff is the best for any job, it’s practically liquid silk.”
You then heard him pop the cap, followed by a squirt, and then sounds of the lube being spread between his fingers.
A dry hand then grabbed one of your cheeks and pulled it to the side to finally reveal your twitching asshole.
“Glad to see every part of you is excited to see me.~”
You then felt Brutus take his lube covered index finger come in and begin to poke and prod your asshole. Your body jumped in response, with your ass and spine clenching in unison.
It was wet and just a bit cold.
“Oh, you’ll need to learn to relax and a bit more than that to take what I’m packing,” Brutus teased as he kept his finger right at the entrance to your hole.
You steeled yourself with another breath to steady yourself as you replied, “Yes, Daddy.”
“That’s more like it!” Brutus cheered as he proceeded to plunge his finger right in, going straight to the second knuckle.
Another gasp was pushed out from your lungs as you fought with your body to relax for Daddy Brutus.
“Aw, what a fast learner,” Brutus said coyly as he began to wiggle his finger inside of you, “Couchie chouchie, coo~”
It was only here did you truly recognize just how large Brutus’s fingers were. The way that Brurtus positioned himself within you, his fingertip brushed up against your prostate, which brought you back closer to the edge.
As he tickled your prostate with his fingertip, you could also feel him using the best of his finger to rotate against the entrance of your hole, slowly going clockwise, stretching it out with every rotation.
It felt amazing.
Just before you could truly appreciate the rhythm of his movements, Brutus stopped and withdrew his finger from you. You were about to turn your head back around before you felt Brutus shove two fingers, wrapped around each other, into you.
“Damn kid, are you sure you’re not as inexperienced as you say you are? Because you're opening up like a pro,” as he finished up with two and moved on to three fingers, making sure to spread them out inside of you in the process.
You blushed at the compliment. You did have some experience with a cheap dildo that you brought with your first paycheck when you moved to college. You and Michael also explored each other’s bodies, but it was nothing as forward as all of this.
Your mind began to drift away and began to unpack what you were doing right now, but at that moment, Brutus pulled out his fingers, making a loud, wet ‘pop’.
“Looks like you’re loose enough for you to take me properly now.”
Another jolt of excitement coursed through you with that sentence and everything that would come from it. From behind, you heard the slow and meticulous sound of buttons popping off in pairs, two by two.
It was the sound of Brutus unfastening the cock pouch of his leather pants.
Brutus took a step closer and flopped his rock hard cock on the crevice of your ass. You then heard him drizzle a generous helping of lube onto his cock and then proceed to slowly grind against you. You savored the sensation of the lube spreading over your ass and up to your lower back.
You could feel every inch as it glided over your ass. It was so much grander than you remembered seeing in the hallway, and as amazing as it is, you wanted more.
You dared not speak up to Brutus, so you shifted your weight back onto your legs and then used that to push your hips into him while letting out a needy whine.
“Ah, you’re done with the teasing and get to the real meat and potatoes of this encounter, huh?”
While still looking forward, you nodded and answered, “Yes, please.”
Brutus replied with a hearty chuckle as he pulled his cock away from you and repositioned himself to line the tip of his cock against the entrance of your asshole.
“Just a heads up, I may be getting up there in my years, but give it all in everything I do.”
You were about to say, “Yes,” when he rammed his cock into you.
It was so much thicker than you were prepared for, as you felt the walls of the inside of your asshole be forced to stretch out to accommodate this new intruder. Brutus parked is cock there for a fraction of a moment before he brought his hands down onto your waist, to hold you in place and to get into position, as he pulled out. He then slowly fed his cock back into you, going right up to the furthest opened you up and then just a hair beyond before repeating it back again.
Each thrust was near militant in execution, and he maintained enough control to keep pushing his cock deeper into you without ever causing discomfort to warrant calling a break from the action. Once he proved that you were safe with him, you allowed yourself to relax and melt into the moment.
Brutus remained silent, dedicating his entire focus on how he was moving his hips against you. You were reminded of how football players would zero in when they run drills for practice.
After a while, Brutus announced that you were able to successfully take all of him as he pushed his hips against yours.
“There you go, all the way in,” he said in a parental praising tone as he craned directly over you, “Now let's see how you can take this old stallion.”
Your only response was to grip the edge of the pommel horse and brace yourself for what was going to happen next.
Brutus must have seen that because all he said was, “Good boy,” as he pulled himself back up and repositioned himself once more.
He almost brought his head out before he finally stopped, and in one powerful motion he shoved his cock back into you. You barely had time to recognize the sensation before he pulled out just as fast, just to do it all over again.
Brutus carried forward with truly professional level determination as he shifted gear and began to truly fuck you senseless. With each powerful thrust, you could feel all of his inches slide over your prostate as it buries itself deep into you, quickly followed by the sensation of his balls slapping against yours. To keep it from getting too repetitive, Brutus would continue to tease you with a few extra slaps and gropes with his lube covered hand.
His method was so intense that it pushed all other thoughts out of your mind, save for the one thought that was relevant to this singular moment.
With every thrust, you gasped out, “Fuck me harder Daddy!”
You were still aware, in some capacity, that Brutus was also getting off on your pleas just as much as you were. That part of you decided to add some additional desperation in your voice as you tried to throw your hips back in time with his movements.
Time seemed to slip by as the room became filled with the squelching sound of the lube, Brutus’s grunts of exertion, and your depraved begging for more.
After a blissful eternity of being railed, you noticed that Brutus was finally getting close. With the end in sight, you decided to finally proclaim the thing you wanted most of all,
“Please, Daddy,
….
Fill me with your seed.”
That seemed to strike a chord within Brutus by the way you heard him snarl as his movements shifted from a steady and practiced pace to a frantic, animalistic sprint.
A half dozen more rapid thrusts like that, and you felt his hands tighten around your hips as he spoke through gritted teeth, “Here it comes, sport.”
In response, you clenched your ass around his cock just as he rammed his entire body against you. Your breath got caught in your throat and your vision went cross eyed as you felt Brutus’s cock twitch as he unloaded it all into you. You felt the waves and waves of hot cum came crashing against your insides and flow deeper into you.
You went limp as you got swept up in the torrent of cum coursing through you.
You forfeited the rest of your body over to Brutus as he continued thrusting his still erect cock into you, making sure to fully empty himself into you. Only once he was truly and completely done did he begin to pull himself out of your now gaping hole.
“Well done sport,” Brutus said as he gave your ass a congratulatory spank, “You took me well.”
You were about to pant out the response, “thank you, Daddy,” when you heard a door open.
“DAD!?”
You whipped your head towards the sound of the familiar voice.
Standing at the doorway was your boyfriend, Michael, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, holding a grocery bag full of snack foods in one hand and a box of soda tucked underneath his other arm. He was backlit by the normal hallway lights that were spilling into the room. Disbelief was splashed across his face as his eyes were locked on the two of you.
“What happened!?”
The sight of him shattered the mood you were in as the implications of everything you did with your boyfriend’s father came into crystal clear focus. You tried to begin to explain yourself, what happened to the living room, the walk, and this dungeon, but it was all too much to put into words.
You just let out a flustered flurry of words as Michael remained silent. An embarrassed moment passed before you even recognized that he was not looking at you. It took you another half second beyond that to realize that the question was not directed at you.
His eyes were locked on his father.
You stopped babbling at that and turned your head around to Brutus who, still in his leather and with his dick out, wore an expression of someone who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Sorry kid,” Brutus said in a half apologizing tone, “he accidentally caught me as i was getting out of the shower. One thing led to another and so….”
“‘Accidentally,’” Michael repeated back with a raised eyebrow before darting his eyes down to you, as if to fact check the claim.
“You couldn’t wait a bit longer before moving in,” Michael followed up, “I’m still mad that you scared away the last one,” he said with a hint of a grudge.
“Oh, that one wasn’t going to last, and you knew it,” Brutus shot back, “this one on the other hand…. You should have seen how he reacted when he first saw this place, he was practically drooling!”
“As for my… forwardness, that’s just the ‘dad tax’,” he added as he gave your ass another, more playful, smack.
It was then that everything clicked into place, and you were finally able to get the full context of the conversation that you were a part of.
“Wait, you know!?”
The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them.
A hearty laughter erupted from Brutus, “Of course he knows! Just look how big this place is…. in his own house, no less! He’s a chip off the old block, whether he likes to admit it or not.
Michael looked away and tried to hide his embarrassment.
“Oh, you should have seen his eighteenth birthday, I flew him out to get his own outfit and for the whole weekend we painted the town red…. Well, white. As much as he tried, I still beat him out for most conquests.”
You saw Michael pursing his lips, trying to find a way to protest but ultimately failing.
“Yeah, I told you that I had a complicated relationship with my dad,” he finally admitted.
Michael took a deep breath and said to you, “Are you cool with … all of this?”
You nodded before he could finish the question.
Michael rolled his eyes as Brutus let loose another hearty Dad laugh, “See how fast he responded, He’s a keeper! Now, get over here, I got him nice and warmed up. I know I got another load to shoot in him, but this mouth still needs some attending.”
Michael let out one last defeated sigh as he put down the groceries and walked in, pulling off his shirt to reveal the body he built from years of football practice.
“Ok, but next time I get his ass”
“No promises.”
You squirmed in place as your boyfriend moved in front of you, and he flopped out his cock that you knew and loved while Brutus began stroking himself hard again.
You wrapped your lips around Michael’s cock just as you felt his father slid his cock back into you.
“Welcome to the family, son.”
***
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A strange text message leaves Luca in dire straits.
Luca yawned. There was another spam message on his phone. Tap to shrink. He swiped to get rid of it, looking up as he heard familiar footsteps.
“Luca.” Luca looked up and saw Cenzo. A wink. Cenzo was a stocky man. Not the tallest, but he made up for it in bulk. A thick moustache over a stubbly beard.
“You walk too loud.” Cenzo landed hands on both his shoulders. He rolled his eyes. “You want something?”
“I'm staying over at yours tonight, I need a bed. I'm not commuting all the way back home.”
“Invite yourself over, why not.”
“That's what I did. It's not as if you have anything better to do. Your fridge is empty as well, I bet. We'll grab something to cook on the way home.”
“I have to get these to Ernie.” Cenzo snatched them out of his hands.
“I’m not waiting for you to get stuck in a conversation for another half an hour. Work is already over. Grab my car, would you? Next door like usual. Back right, against the wall. Meet you out front.” Luca squinted at him.
“We can walk.”
“Fuck that. Don't like leaving my car here overnight.” Cenzo launched his keys into Luca's chest, walking out with the documents. There was no point disagreeing. Luca wandered down to the car park. There it was. Cenzo’s pride and joy. More expensive than it was practical. All sleek blackness and silver detailing. He opened the car door, sliding in. Cool leather seats. Another vibration from his phone. A message. Tap to shrink. Again? He swiped it away once more. Cenzo wasn't long. He pulled open the door and looked in.
“Move over.”
“I'm already behind the wheel.”
“Fucking move over. It's my car, I get to drive.”
“You’re a bellend.” He undid his seatbelt. “Move, then.”
“Just go over the gearstick. You're flexible.” Luca grumbled as he climbed over. Cenzo sat down behind him, pressing play on the dashboard screen. A quick stop at a convenience store, a minor scuffle with Luca's spare parking permit, and they were inside. Cenzo dumped a bag of food on the counter.
“What's on the menu today then?”
“Italian sausage.” A leer. “Thick and juicy.” Luca winced.
“Come on, man.”
“You wish I would.”
“I don't have the energy for your bullshit right now. Just make some fucking food. You want me to do some prep?”
“Onion and garlic in there, yeah.” Luca pulled out a knife and a chopping board and got to work as Cenzo rustled around in his spice drawer. It was a good evening. A few glasses of wine and an impressive risotto later and Luca was full, listening to the shower as Cenzo cleaned himself up. Luca yawned, then rubbed his eyes. Another notification. He frowned. Tap to shrink. It was time to block this number. He tapped.
Blackness. He opened his eyes with a start. What had just happened? What was this? Fabric. Thick fabric. A faint glimpse of light. He fought his way towards it, emerging out onto a vast plane of material. A shirt. Colossal buttons, pale blue. This was his shirt. He brushed off his knees, looking around. He was still in his flat. But everything was massive. He was nude, of course, the vast planes of his clothes stretching out around him. What had that message been? Tap to shrink. He had a bad feeling about this. There was no time to dwell on it, though. The bathroom door squeaked. Out walked Cenzo, water gleaming on every inch of his hairy body. A thick trail of hair led down beneath a towel wrapped around his waist. Not nearly large enough for him. Luca felt his eyes widen as Cenzo took a step closer. Normally, Cenzo's size was kept in check by his height. He was barrel-chested, of course. Hairy and thick, sure. But he was never tall. That didn't matter now. He was a titan. A behemoth. A rugged cliff face, come to life. Another step. Vibrations through his feet. Luca came to his senses and jumped to his feet.
“Hey! Cenzo! Down here!” No response. Cenzo wandered over to the fridge, rustling around. Another bowl of pasta in his hands, he turned around. Luca waved frantically, jumping up and down. No notice of him. Cenzo's colossal form started moving again. Back towards the sofa, each step shaking running through Luca's core. “Vinnie! Vincenzo! Vincenzo Matteo! Dickhead!” It didn't click that it wasn't working until Cenzo was standing above him. He swallowed. Cenzo turned around. That towel was too tight. It rode up, exposing Cenzo's bare arse. Fat and hairy. Gleaming with a few last drops of water. There was nowhere to run. Cenzo was already lowering down. Vast cheeks blocked out the light. His fat hairy arse descended, slow and unstoppable. Luca's heart dropped into his stomach.
“Please, man.” Cenzo sat down.
Luca was immobilised instantly. Impossible weight, bearing down. Sound vanished for a moment, a buzzing in his ears. Every trace of light was gone. Cenzo shuffled above him, getting comfy. Thicker hair. A crevice, just enough space for him to move. The tiniest trace of light. Faint sound, muffled by thickets of fur. Cenzo's crack. It was better than being ground to paste. Luca pulled his hand out of a knot. The last thing he need was strangulation by public hair. At least Cenzo had just showered. He tried to get his bearings. There was one glimpse of light above him. That was it. It was his last hope He struggled towards it. Slow, awkward progress. There was a definite sweat problem building, but he was almost there. He could grip onto the coils, pull himself forwards a little. It was working. Then there was a grunt. He froze instinctively. Cenzo exhaled, then shifted back. A tiny movement. But more than enough to eliminate his progress. He was back at square one. The sound of the TV turning on, somewhere in the distance. Lazy eating. Luca struggled in his crack, thick hair coiling around him. New tangles forming by the second. Cenzo wasn't helping, still grinding, trying to get comfortable with the irritationg little itch beneath him.
“Just check your goddamn crack, man!” His voice was lost. Cenzo spread his legs. His glutes pulled apart a little. His taint crushed down further. Luca looked up terrified as a shadowy form got closer. He was still safe. But he could feel warmth and stench pouring out of the darkness. There was the gleam of liquid above him. Something fell on his face. Water, trapped from his shower, already infused with Cenzo's stink. He wriggled again. A distant growl. Cenzo sunk into the sofa, crushing the last of Luca's hope. Now something was enveloping his front. Something warm. Muscular. Wrinkled. Something with an air current. Something that clung a little to his body, enveloping him, almost welcoming him in. Luca shut his eyes. He would have to breathe in eventually. He gave it a try. It didn't matter if he breathed through his mouth. He could almost taste it. He shuddered. There was no way to make an arsehole smell sweet. A warm current of air, laced with something foul. The sofa against his back was soft, moulding around him as Cenzo's bulk pressed down. The ring of muscle above him slowly got sweatier. Luca began to realise he was sliding in. Inescapably, excruciatingly slow. Heavy black curls brushed against his sides. He tried to pull his face out. There was no space to escape to. Cenzo's fat ass pressed down, fat moulding to fabric, Luca stuck between. The only place that had space for him was the abyss above, and natural displacement was handling the rest. His fate arrived slowly. Just the gurgle of vast bowels, the slow circulation of gas. The stench of Cenzo's insides, ready to welcome him inside. Muscles tightening gently around him, then behind him, sealing him in. The final squeeze as Cenzo felt the itch finally disappear. Cenzo settled down fully. His ass finished moulding against the chair, nothing else in the way. Half an hour more and he was asleep. No trace of Luca. Just a fat hairy arse, a little saliva on Cenzo's stubble, and the steady rumble of his snoring.
Davy dozed off in Raoul's pocket as they walked back to Julian's office. The door opened. He shook himself off as he heard a familiar voice, climbing up towards the light.
“There you are, love.” Two vast chests crushed Davy as the two embraced. Davy wriggled in vague irritation. He could feel the pressure locking his limbs in place, but there was no pain. He was all in one piece. “Where's Davy?”
“Right here.” Raoul tipped Davy onto a vast expanse of wood. Light and cool air. It was Julian's desk again. Davy got his bearings, looking up. There he was. Julian. Far above him. All thick beard and big belly. Warm eyes, looking down as he fixed something against his ear. It was an earbud of some kind. He passed Raoul another.
“Hello, son. Did I just crush you?” Davy gave him an awkward salute. Julian handed him a harness with a microphone attached. Davy struggled in, trying to get the straps the right way round. It was still oversized. “Speak into that. It'll go up here.” He tapped the earbud.
“All good, sir.” There were dark circles beneath Julian’s eyes.
“Sir? Somebody’s size is making him feel some kind of way.” That slow, gentle voice. Huge palms opened up invitingly. Davy got up automatically, walking into Julian's embrace. The giant's grasp welcomed him in. Gentle, safe enclosure. Fingers against his sides. “There's my little man.” Julian lifted. A lot more careful than Raoul. Vast lips pressed against him, enveloping his torso, then Julian deposited him gently back onto the desk. “No point wasting time. I'm going to take your vitals. I'm going to give you a quick physical. We're going to go to sign some documents so the government knows where you are. Then we're good to go.” By his hand, there was another Davy-sized hospital gown. Davy went towards it. Blocked by a firm arm. “Leave that, son.”
“Uh. Is that necessary?”
“You're plenty used to stripping down for me.” A vast grip enveloped him again. Davy grumbled vaguely to himself. “You smell of sex.” Next came Raoul's voice, lazy and satisfied.
“That's on me.”
“Nothing wrong with that. Did you eat, son?” Raoul snorted.
“He ate my load, if that works.”
“That should be plenty for him.” Julian poked Davy's midriff. “Are you full?” Davy folded his arms over his stomach.
“Uh. Yeah. I guess.”
“Good boy. A full-sized man's semen is perfect for you. The science isn't fully understood yet, but syndrome sufferers are fully capable of living off bodily fluids.” He pulled out a strange sort of stethoscope. “See the groove at the end there? You put your torso there. I should get a faint heartbeat.” Davy leaned forward into cold steel. A pause. “Yep. All seems fine. The next question is any physical deformities. I can check that myself.” Fingertips on his sides. Julian flipped him over with practised efficiency. Davy growled. A soothing hum. A vast finger, running down his spine. Davy shivered as the feeling ran through him, muscles going slack. Julian huffed gently. He landed fingers beneath Davy's feet, pushing up, folding his legs carefully. “Push back, son. Let me make sure everything's still working right.” Davy pushed. No movement in Julian's fingertips, just the give of the pads on his fingertips. “Good boy. This sort of physical exam is generally considered too invasive these days, but it works fine, and I don't think invasive matters that much when you suck my cock on a regular basis. It lets me skip out on one of the machines.” He dangled Davy with two fingers beneath his arms, swaying him side to side. Davy hit at his fingertips.
“Oi.” A soft smile. Julian tucked him into the hollow of his neck and reached for his tablet, starting to type.
“All reactions seem alright. No physical abnormalities. The shrinking syndrome itself might be a stroke of bad luck, but I think you're a pretty ideal case, if particularly small. I don't think you need to stay in the hospital overnight. You can come straight home with us. I've already filled out a guardianship form here.” Davy twisted round. His foot slipped. The cradle of a vast hand was already waiting to catch him. “Raoul, love, I need your signature here.” The tablet switched hands. Julian took it back and scrolled down. A smaller section. He double tapped, plugging in a tiny tablet next to him. “Davy, you sign using this little one. Use your hand.” Careful mass landed Davy back on the desk. He dragged his hand over the screen. A messy signature. “That'll do.” A few more clicks, an enter button, and the screen closed. “There we go. You are officially our responsibility, and free to come home with us. The government will send you a scaled-down laptop in the post to our address. Part of their latest scheme trying to get syndrome sufferers functioning in society. I would message your work for you, but somebody never quite finished his job search, did you?” Davy scratched his head.
“Well, it clearly wouldn't have worked out now.” An eyebrow raised. Davy shuffled his feet. Julian was far too good at playing the disappointed father figure.
“Hmm.” Raoul’s voice, thank god, interrupted the silence. The man batted Davy playfully onto his ass and reached out to flick Julian's shoulder.
“Give the lad a break. We're gonna work him hard to pay for his keep, aren't we?”
“Well - informally. To be clear, son, you don't have to have sex with us to stay with us. It's not really much trouble for us having a man of your size stay with us, let alone one we're already close to.” Davy climbed back to his feet and scratched his chin.
“Uh. I want to have sex with you, though.” A huff.
“Well, I can see that. Why are you so excited?”
“Well, uh. I think the whole giant thing turns me on a bit. And you basically just spent ten minutes groping me.”
“That was a medical examination, son. But this is a perfectly normal reaction. I tell you what. We enjoy you being tiny. Maybe almost as much as you enjoy us being giant. Take off the microphone for a moment. I can help you out.” Julian gathered him up once more. Huge eyes scanned him up again. Davy looked back, resisting the urge to cover himself up. Huge palms raised. Julian's massive tongue flicked out, muscle dragging over his chest. He wriggled nervously. “Settle down. Just me. You've seen the leaflets, I won't hurt you. Love, you want to join?”
“We bonded earlier. I'm gonna go downstairs and grab something to drink before we go. You want anything?”
“Yeah. Could I get - I don't know. Something to eat. Sweet. And a coffee.”
“No coffee. You need sleep, Jay. I'll pick you up one of those weird little herbal teas you like. Bud, I would offer you something, but I filled your belly earlier.” Julian offered him his wallet with a free hand. Raoul took out his medical ID and tossed the rest back on the desk. “I just need your discount.” The door opened and closed. Julian couldn't see, trapped in Julian's grasp, warm skin locked firm around him. Gentle, slow pressure from the front. He squeezed his eyes shut, shivering as muscle probed between his legs. Julian's saliva was steadily coating him. Encouraging humming. The tap of Julian's phone as he typed.
“Julian.” No response. “Julian! Sir!” A sigh. Julian lifted him to his ear. “Come on, Julian. Can you at least stop texting when you're getting me off?”
“You're not having fun?”
“Of course I am. But I feel like you're not.”
“I’m happy, son. This is exactly what I want. You, wriggling about on my tongue. My husband, texting me from downstairs. I don't necessarily need a hand on my cock to be satisfied. This feels good. Comfortable. A perfect end to my workday.”
“Isn't there something I can do?”
“You can stop complaining and let me take care of you.” The return of a massive tongue. Julian didn't say anything else. There was just gentle rumbling, the tap of keys as he typed, and a colossal hand locking Davy against his lips. When Davy finally came, he collapsed in pleasure against Julian’s tongue, tapping against his lips. No response. A colossal tongue ran idly over him, the stimulation slowly building until he started to squirm.
“Um. I'm done.” A vague acknowledgement.
“Mhmm.” Back between a vast hand and tongue. Davy shuddered, halfway between pleasure and discomfort. The door opened again and Raoul re-entered.
“Here you are. Ginger tea and a pain au chocolat. How's the little man doing?” Julian finally lowered Davy from his mouth. Spread out over a massive palm, panting wildly, Davy stared up at the ceiling, waiting to get some sense back. Raoul raised an amused eyebrow as he handed Julian a cup.
“He’s nice and happy. He's just keeping me company now. Do you mind if I finish this report?”
“I'll give you five minutes, but you need sleep and I need to get Davy set up.”
“I know. You're right. Let me focus.” Davy yelped as huge lips opened.
“Julian! Don't be a dick!”
“Shh, sweetheart.” Julian popped him onto his tongue, mouth closing behind him. A thrill of fear, blooming in Davy's core. He knew that he was safe, in theory. But it was pitch black. The sound of the outside world was sealed off, replaced with the muffled silence of Julian’s insides. The odd gurgle. Beneath him, Julian’s tongue shifted. A single muscle, dwarfing Davy’s entire body. He stumbled. Saliva soaked his hands as he caught himself. His crotch was reacting again, of course. He winced as he felt his sore dick twinge. A colossal tongue tossed him into a cheek. Ridiculous muscle pressed heavy against his torso. His hands sunk ineffectually into flesh as Julian ran his tongue over him. He squeaked. The big man had always been a little overbearing. Normally, though, Davy was big enough to at least put up a fight. He could get away. He had work, he had his own place. Now, Julian was… massive. Impossibly strong. And he was Davy’s legal guardian. Davy curled up. Slathered head to toe in Julian's saliva, muscle tossed him around. Finally, light as Julian’s mouth opened up again. He spat Davy into a wet little heap on his palm, absent-mindedly running a finger down his spine. Spit oozed down Davy's form into a puddle beneath his knees. Raoul huffed from the other side of the desk.
“Jay. You went too far. Look at him.” Julian looked down. Dark eyes softened.
“Oh, you're right. You're okay, sweetheart.” That finger down his spine. “I shouldn't have put you in my mouth so soon. That was a little much. Put your harness back on for me, please.” Davy pulled the straps back over his torso, tugging them tight. Julian deposited him on cool wood, hands gating him loosely in. “You okay?” Davy glared up at him. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. I got carried away. Here.” A tissue. Davy towelled himself off. “Talk to me, please.”
“I'm not a toy.”
“I know, I know. I just wanted you close. I'm feeling… a little bit protective, sweetheart. With you so small.”
“Aren't I supposed to be tougher now? What are you worried about?”
“Yes, but -” an exhale. “Son. You are three inches tall. It’s true that you are hard to squash right now. It's true that you're very good at coexisting with regular-sized people. But that's where it ends. You can still freeze, or starve, or get stuck, and there's not a lot you can do about it. I just… I want to protect you. I do. I think anyone would. You were already someone I wanted to take care of. It's… a lot stronger now, I think. Do you really hate it?” Davy fidgeted in his gaze.
“It's not like I hate it. It's good to feel, you know. Safe. All the shrinking has stressed me out. But I'm still a person. If you want to treat me like a toy, then, you know. Ask consent. And leave the microphone on, so I can safeword and talk and all that. Is this thing… spitproof?” Julian’s fingers closed in a little tighter, then hesitated.
“Can I touch you, son?”
“Fine.” A finger ran down his side.
“A better mic will come with your laptop. You need a custom one, at your size. But they design them well. Once you have one, it'll be more or less indestructible. Just like you.”
“Okay. Fine. Can you just hold off until then? Please?”
“Alright. Am I forgiven?”
“I suppose.” Raoul interrupted.
“Yeah, yeah. Hurry it up, people. Jay, you've done your report. You got your phone? Keys? Wallet? Boy?” More huge fingers. Raoul’s, this time. Davy swiped at them. “Don't start. It’s Jay you’re sulking at. Stop trying to pick a fight with me.” Davy paused mid-swing.
“Can I still safeword?”
“Of course you can fucking safeword. I'm not gonna shove you in my mouth without a mic.” A guilty sigh behind them. “Get a grip, Jay. You already said sorry. Davy, you're going back to the big man so he can quench his need for control. Jay, we're going home.” Fingers clamped down on Davy's sides. A dizzying rush of movement, a vast expanse of blue fabric beneath him, then Raoul dropped him into Julian's pocket. Davy grumbled half-heartedly as soft cotton swallowed him again. Voices from above. Julian, yawning.
“Come on. Let's go. Are we driving separate?” The vague form of Julian’s hand squeezed Davy from outside. Raoul's voice sounded out again.
“No. You're tired. I'll drop you off tomorrow morning when your shifts are back to decent hours. Just worry about Davy.” Inside Julian's pocket, Davy was sheltered, a few hospital lights filtering in from above, rhythmic footsteps far below him. He curled up and settled in.
Raoul and Davy make a quick detour as they wait for Julian.
It wasn’t long before they were in Julian's office. Raoul sat down, fishing Davy out of his pocket. Cool air raised the hairs on his arms. The first signs of preparation were already scattered over the desk. A small box labelled ‘Microsyndrome Starter Pack’. A few leaflets. An appropriately-sized hospital gown. Raoul set him down on the fabric and he pulled it on. There was a leaflet next to him as well. Sex and Shrinking - Same Sex, Male. Davy looked up. A wink. Raoul lowered his head so he was close enough to hear.
“Let’s go through this together, aye?”
“You only ever think about one thing.” Davy was a hypocrite.
“Right you are, lad.” He unfolded the leaflet, laying it out. Clearly, the priority was anatomical accuracy, but there was no hiding the nature of the contents. Diagrams of the male genitalia in various forms. A small silhouette being subjected to all sorts of obscene acts. Raoul chuckled above him.
“Jay did tell me this. I didn't believe him, but it’s all there. You’re fully cleared for sex. It’s tricky to hurt a tiny man, huh? One of the advantages of the whole shrinking shite. You can go up my arse and down my cock. I can swallow you, sit on you, shove you in my pits. No more cocks in your mouth or ass, but we can work around that.” Davy blinked. How did he answer in a way that didn’t embarrass himself?
“But - arse - there’s no mention of your pits anywhere here.” Not like that. Raoul snorted.
“You can’t be crushed, so you can go in my pits, bud.”
“Uh. Now?” Perhaps fear would be the logical response here. Davy couldn't quite persuade himself to feel anything other than the thrill.
“Eager boy. Another time. Hmm. We're trying this one before Jay gets here.” He pointed to a paragraph. ‘Micros’, as microsyndrome sufferers are often called, can fully and healthily subsist off human bodily fluids if necessary. Any substance originating from the human body poses no danger to them.
“That’s not a sex act in itself. And I think it’s supposed to be a footnote to help people think the sex isn’t dangerous. I don’t have to live off - bodily fluids, or whatever.” Raoul’s hands landed either side of him.
“But you can. You hungry?” A gentle shove from one set of fingers, then another the other way. Davy turned around to flip the bastard off.
“Not in the open.” A snort.
“Look around, Davy. No one’s here.” Davy scowled. Huge eyes rolled. “Fine. Jay wants me to be nice for the day. We can go to the bathroom.”
“Well - I guess - fuck!’ That feeling of the world rushing around him. Darkness, the cloth of Raoul’s shirt enveloping him. Heavy footsteps. He climbed towards the light. Huge corridors. Every stride spanned a mile. He dived back into his pocket as he heard a nearby voice, curling up. A chuckle.
“Yer too bloody shy.” It was easy for him to say. Every massive footstep wasn’t tossing him around. Eventually, the creak of a door split through the noises of the hospital, followed by the sound of a cubicle lock turning. “Alright, bud. We’re in the bathroom, it’s empty. Come out.” Vast fingers invaded his refuge. He swatted at them. Zero reaction. Up and out. Davy dangled from Raoul's fingertips, legs hanging uselessly in the air. An affectionate smirk. Raoul lowered Davy down between his spread legs. A makeshift mat of toilet roll. He tumbled the last couple of centimetres, climbing back onto his feet, ready to complain. Then he saw the crotch of huge trousers. Straining at the seams, barely holding fast, creaking under the pressure of its burden. Davy swallowed. The slick noise of Raoul's zipper going down as colossal fingers freed his package. A stained, bulging pouch. Raoul’s usual ambient stench. All the way down here, staring up Raoul's titanic form, it felt multiplied. The raw scent of man and work, spun into a stinking cocoon around his senses. A massive hand lowered in front of him, then Raoul clicked his fingers. “Stay sharp, bud. Why are you still wearing that?” Massive fingertips. Power. Impossible power.
“Hold on! This thing won't-” A tearing sound, and he felt his robe tear and stretch, falling off him. He felt his eyes widen as he looked up. A rumble of amusement. He sorted his features into a scowl.
“Jesus, bud. You want to worship me bad, huh?” Raoul pulled the remains of his gown aside and stood up. “I swear they make these things out of paper.” His colossal bulge dragged over Davy's form, sending him stumbling forwards, sweaty fabric smearing across his back. A watchful eye over a bulky shoulder, checking he was still there. “Fuckin’ tiny.” Raoul reached down his waistband, tugging it open, letting his clothes fall like an avalanche around vast legs. Davy’s mouth fell open as he saw colossal glutes. Then Raoul sat down. Muscle and brawn, falling like planets. In his chest, Davy's heart froze. Then Raoul's thighs fell around him, leaving him mercifully uncrushed, bouncing him up as the toilet shook beneath him. A hard landing. He rolled onto his ass, scowling up. Raoul picked him up carefully and ruffled his hair with a finger.
“You're too big!”
“Can’t hear you, bud. How's the view?”
“If it didn't come with the smell-” the sound of huge fingers landing on the seat behind him. He flipped a half-hearted finger in the general direction of up. Raoul advanced his hand slowly, shepherding Davy towards his junk. Big furry balls. Davy swallowed as he remembered one of the leaflet’s diagrams. A tiny form curled up in a massive testicle. Raoul was only half hard yet, massive hand stroking himself as hungry eyes looked down. He aimed his shaft just right and gave Davy a shove. Into a colossal foreskin. Smelly, dark, the hood enveloping his head without so much as a single stretch. A massive, sticky slit. A massive droplet of something smeared over his face and neck. Raoul snorted and pulled him out. “Still a little piglet, aren't you?” Raoul pushed him into his hairy balls. His shaft fell over Davy's back, enveloping him in sweaty, hairy skin.
“Sniff ’em. Smell good?” Davy opened his mouth and breathed in. A good few hours at the building site on them. Sweat and musk. Oily hairs, wrapping around him. Raoul started to stroke himself in earnest. His shaft raised up above him. Davy buried himself in sweaty folds, lapping at Raoul's raunch in open worship. “Good boy. You always did know your place.” Davy wriggled happily. A big hand shoved him in, the second pumping Raoul's shaft. “Fuck, Davy. I know the shrinking is awful, but you feel like you were made for this. We're going to look after you, you hear me? We'll make the best of this. You'll be happy.” It was a strange moment for emotional intimacy. Davy couldn't really respond, buried in Raoul's heavy sack. But there were massive fingers holding him tight, comforting stench in his nostrils, the rank, masculine taste of Raoul's sweat in his mouth. It felt right. He relaxed and let Raoul use him as he wanted. Wiping up his ballsweat, licking precum off his shaft, sitting at the head and working his hands beneath a giant foreskin. “Jesus, bud. Yer so fuckin’ happy. Just because I haven't showered.” Raoul stood up. Davy fell back into the seat, catching his breath. Raoul's colossal form loomed above him, blanketing him in shadow, the odd drop of sweat falling onto the toilet seat. Massive knees bent. Davy mumbled under his breath as massive balls lowered, then they flattened him into the toilet roll beneath him. He opened his mouth and breathed in. “All you have to do is worship, lad. Do what you what born to do.” A few last minutes of grunting and pumping and strands of liquid falling over Davy's form. Then Raoul let out a wild grunt, movement suddenly erratic, and a blast of thick, sticky semen splattered across Davy's face. “Perfect little comerag.” Raoul covered him easily, burying him rope after rope of warm jizz. The slow riding out of his orgasm. Feral grunting became slow panting, then he crouched down. He scooped up the mat of toilet roll, Davy and all, come flooding the entire thing, soaking the paper. “Good, bud?”
“Um. Yeah. Uh. There was some… wild talk there.” Raoul batted him gently into his ass, into the puddle of come. It squelched beneath him.
“It’s sex, bud. I know what we both like. I make you happy, just like you make me happy. Am I wrong?”
“No. It just feels a lot when I'm - you know. Three inches tall.”
“You know you're our boy?”
“Uh. I suppose.”
“And you know we'll take care of you?”
“Uh. I guess.”
“That's good enough for me. Eat up. It's hot ‘n fresh, made special for you.”
“You’re disgusting.” A chuckle. Raoul knocked him over. Impossible to fight. He grumbled as come soaked his face, then a huge fingertip shoved him down, soaking him in slime.
“Maybe all the protein'll help you grow back to a decent size.”
Your roommate Chris had a habit of wrestling you to the floor when he got bored.
“Chill buddy, I need to practice for coach. The other guys don’t let me practice with them anymore because they say I don’t play fair.. it’s not my fault they can’t handle some sweaty ass when I pin them down. How else do I make sure they don’t move if I don’t sit on their face! That’s an extra 300lbs of force making sure they don’t move! I win every time”
He put both hands on my chest so I couldn’t get off the floor.
“Coach said I need to practice my pins without farting in my opponents face, I thought it was a nice little treat, but I’m so used to it now it’ll be hard to stop. Guess you’re in for a long night bud!”
He wrestled me for 5 hours until he had to go to a match, I was stuck to the floor from all the pressure.
Since your dad had totally taken control over you, he didn't bother with his hygiene anymore, much less wearing clothes around the house. You weren't in any position to argue with him. He loved taking advantage of it too, giving you commands like "Hey sport, care to give dad a foot rub?" Or "How about you sniff your old man's ripe pits for a while?". Even though you tried to fight back, inevitably you'd be near him, huffing his awful stench as he chuckled. The worst part was him making you clean his ass with your tongue after he was finished taking a dump, and naturally he'd always find time to fart in your face as you did so. What was worse was, you were actually starting to enjoy it.
Well go on. You asked for it. I had to endure a whole day of dirty looks, and whispers. You need to make up for all the mean things people said about the way I smell… you backing away? If you don’t get that snout in here boy I’m gonna pin you down and suffocate you with it. I’m not kidding kiddo. I don’t care if you got more man than you bargained for. I better see a red faced boy whimpering and sniffing rubbing his rock hard prick on my thighs right now. Let’s go babe. Be sure to whine a little too.
Davy wakes up a lot smaller than he was when he went to bed and has to call in help.
Davy woke up in low light. Everything was hot, soft, a little suffocating. Around him, a massive expanse of fabric. It was his bed. Why was it so large? He pushed his way into the light, and his brain stopped. Everything towered above him. He was stuck between his pillow and duvet, bed stretching out around him. The next feeling was horror. Shrinking syndrome. Everyone knew what it was. Nobody thought it would happen to them. How was he going to solve this? His phone, still next to his pillow. Up to his knees now. He bent down to touch the home button. Two hands did the trick. A text from Raoul. Just the person he needed. He tapped it. Nothing. Both hands, again. Texting back was a headache at this size. After a brief struggle, he remembered the call button at the top of the screen and jumped. A few moments went by unanswered, then he breathed a sigh of relief as Raoul picked up. Hammering in the background.
“Hang on.” The hammering faded a little, then he was back. “Alright, Davy. Why are you disturbing me at work?”
“Shrinking syndrome! I need-”
“Bud. I’m on a building site. Stop whispering.” Davy climbed up to the microphone and raised his voice.
“It’s shrinking syndrome! I woke up tiny, I can barely even use the phone!” A exhale and a groan.
“Ah, shite. Stay where you are. I'm finding somewhere quiet.” Footsteps, a brief shouted exchange. A door opening. “Alright. You better not be taking the piss, Davy, or I'm gonna beat your ass a whole new colour. Where you to?”
“Home! I just woke up!”
“Any immediate danger?”
“Well, I'm fucking tiny! But no. I don't think so.”
“Where in the flat are you? Be clear.”
“In my room. On the bed, next to the pillow, with my phone.”
“Don’t move. I’ll be about twenty minutes, I’m close.”
“The door's locked.”
“I own the bloody flat, lad. You know I have keys. Just hold tight. I'll message Jay.” He hung up.
It was a strange twenty minutes. A message from Julian popped up. Responding seemed like more trouble than it was worth. The big man was overprotective at the best of times, and Raoul was talking to him already. Finally, the door opened in the distance. Heavy footsteps, then the door burst open. In thundered Raoul. Fucking massive. All muscle and fur. Still in heavy cargo trousers and boots, sweat staining his undershirt. The titan scanned the room until his eyes fell on Davy. Davy gave an awkward wave. A strange look in the giant's eyes.
“Jesus. This is one hell of a problem, isn't it?” Davy felt an awkward feeling building up downstairs. He was into this.
“I just woke up like this. I, uh. Wasn't sure what to do.” A frown.
“Hang on, bud. I can't here you, you've got a tiny little squeak now. Come here.” He sat down on the bed. Davy lurched towards him as the mattress sagged beneath him. A big hand wrapped around him carefully. “You need to let me know if I’m being too rough, yeah?” Pure fucking power. Davy wriggled, trying to persuade himself he wasn't enjoying this too much. Raoul raised him up to a massive ear.
“Your hands are sweaty as fuck.”
“There he is. Real problems, bud.” He yelped as Raoul's hands lifted him into the air. “Calm. I got you.” Raoul inspected him carefully, nudging gently at his limbs. “Anything hurt?”
“Uh. No, just small. Can you stop that?” Raoul ignored him and flipped him over. A gentle flick on his ass. “Ow! Dick!”
“You still got a nice arse, lad.” Davy motioned towards his ear and Raoul lifted him back up.
“I'm flattered, but I need you to focus.” He also needed Raoul to take his clothes off, but he was trying to keep his priorities in order.
“Unclench. Let me finish texting Jay. Stay there.” Raoul set him in his lap. Directly on top of his bulge. Davy felt his ears go red. Above him, Raoul pulled out his phone.
“Uh. I’m just gonna -” Raoul nudged him back onto his crotch.
“Stay there, bud. Me and Jay are working things out. He's off shift soon, we're meeting him at the hospital so he can give you a checkover. I’ve taken the day out. We’ll need to sign some papers to get us sorted out as your guardians. Then we should be okay. You can’t legally work anywhere close, though.”
“I’m aware.”
“You happy to move in with us, bud? There are a few homes for syndrome sufferers around, but I think we can take care of you better.”
“I guess.”
“That's a yes?” Davy gave him a thumbs up. Raoul picked him up and squinted. “Looks like a yes to me. Alright. Let’s go, bud. First step is the hospital.” Next thing he knew, Davy was in Raoul's shirt pocket. He climbed up the soft fabric. A protective hand hovered over him.
“Relax. I'm fine, there's no need to act like Julian.”
“I can guess what that was, bud. You got to let me feel protective, a mouse could kick your arse right now. You want anything from home?” Back at a massive ear.
“Well, there's no real way for me to use most of it, right?”
“That's right.”
“So, uh. I think this might be my notice if I'm moving in with you.”
“We pretty much just charged you tail anyways, lad. I think that can still happen, anyway. You always seem to like feeling small. You like me giant?” Davy scratched his head. He really did.
“Uh. I guess. Kind of.”
“Good lad.” He opened up the car door and sat down, looking around. “Where do I put you, bud? I don’t want you flying around.”
“How about the cupholder?” Raoul obviously couldn't hear him. He tucked Davy beneath his crotch, patting his head with a finger. “Stay safe there.”
“Can you stop -” Raoul looked down blankly. Davy gestured wildly. A huff, then he was back at a massive ear. “Can you stop rubbing me all over your sweaty crotch? You still stink from the building site.”
“You like that, bud. I'm not stupid. You have all your usual tells, even if you're downsized a bit. I can tell you now, you’re going to have to get used to being covered in my filth. Your size makes you perfect for getting into all sorts of little nooks and crannies.” Davy spluttered beneath him.
“I’m not your - sex toy!”
“Nah. You’re our boy. We'll look after you, and you help us relax, hmm?”
“This is a step up from the usual, Raoul!”
“And you’re five steps down from a normal size. Hush a bit. You’re safe. We’ll keep you happy and fed.” Back down between Raoul's legs, beneath his bulk. Raoul shifted forward, crushing him into the seat of his car. It stunk of ass. Smelly bastard. Davy tried and failed to fight his way out, raw size trapping him easily. The car shuddered as Raoul turned on the engine.
“You’re a dick!” Big hands, drumming on the steering wheel. Out-of-tune humming. Raoul couldn't hear him. Davy just had to deal with it. The giant's crotch stank. The leather seat beneath him stank. Davy stank too now that he was trapped beneath him. Raoul leaned back and released a stinking fart. A grunt of relief. Huge thighs tightened to trap him as he tried to escape the stench. “Stay where you are. You like my smells.” In theory, it was only a short drive to the hospital. Half-crushed beneath sweaty muscle, every shift squashing him further into raunch and heat, it felt like forever. Raoul wound down the window, whistling along to the radio. Completely calm. Unbothered by Davy's plight. Finally, he pulled to a halt. A shift in his vast form. Davy tried to struggle out. Fingers like pillars nudged him back beneath. “Two seconds, lad. I promised I'd call Jay when I got here.” The sound of the window going down. Raoul lit up a cigarette, blowing smoke out the window. “Hey, Jay. Got you on speaker so the lad can hear you.”
“All good. Bit cranky cause I've got him under my balls.”
“That's fine. Shrinking syndrome makes him tough, one of the few benefits. Let me talk to him.”
“I could shove my phone beneath my taint?”
“A proper talk.”
“Ah, fine.” He finally raised up enough for Davy to struggle out. A massive hand scooped him up and set him on Raoul's knee, the opening of the microphone wide in front of him. “He's at the phone. Speak, bud.”
“Julian, tell your asshole husband I'm not a toy.”
“That’s the least of our problems right now, son. Settle down. Any pain? Any part of your body not looking right?”
“Uh. Not really.” Raoul leaned down.
“He looks even more fucking adorable than usual.” Davy could hear the responding smile, even down the phone.
“Okay, love. My shift's over in 45 minutes. About time, the night shift's been killing me. Davy, if you're not in any pain, you can wait till then. I'll have a look at you.”
“Uh. Is that… allowed? You can just take on a patient?”
“I'm a senior nurse, son. I'm qualified to do shrinking syndrome assessments, no one will mind if I take on an extra patient. Stick close to Raoul. I'll see you soon. Love, take care of him.” A massive finger knocked Davy over playfully as Raoul raised the phone back up to his lips.
“You know I will. Love you.” Raoul hung up and looked down. Colossal fingers ferried him onto a vast palm, ignoring his complaints. “Alright, bud. You've been sulking at me. Anything to say?”
“You could have let me out before you had a smoke!”
“Didn't want to. Next.”
“Uh - I don’t know. But I’m pissed off.” Davy looked up at him. Raoul looked down. The giant huffed, then nudged him gently onto his ass.
“I can tone it down if you want, bud. I think you’re fucking cute like this. You know I'm a pig. You’re the perfect size for me to use as a tiny sweatrag. You really don't like it?” Davy fidgeted as a eye as big as him fixed him in its gaze.
“Uh. No. It’s hot.”
“We’ve still got a safeword, bud, haven’t we? You can still use that.”
“Yeah. But you can barely even hear me now.”
“You know we'll take care of you, bud.” A huge fingertip nudged his face. He leaned into the touch. Rough, warm skin. Safety. A gentle rumble. He shook himself off awkwardly.
“Uh. So. What happens next?” Raoul blew on him. A blast of warm breath. He whined and Raoul chuckled.
“I’m gonna put you in my shirt pocket. We’re going inside. We wait for Jay. We all sign some documents, they should give us one of those tiny starter packs, then we'll take you back to ours. Jay needs sleep, so I'll take charge of you for a bit. We can cuddle, we can try working out how sex will work, or you can just work out how you feel being this size. I’ll set you up in our bedside table. If I take the front off one of the drawers, you should be nice and comfy. You’ll stay close to us. We’ll go to sleep as normal, and just take each day as it comes. We're going to look after you. You’re our boy. Okay?” Davy mulled it over, crossing his legs, Raoul's palm warm beneath him.
“Okay.”
“Good boy.” A grin. “You want to see if you can fit an arm down my cock before we go in?” Davy rolled his eyes.
“Not now.” He hesitated. “Maybe later.”
“That’s more like it. Come on. Let’s get you sorted.”
(reupload, cause I got a bit trigger happy cleaning up the blog a while back) Arnie’s evening takes a messy turn when a shrinking potion and a fall onto the wrong plate end up with him trapped in an orc’s mid-shift snack.
The tavern was busy for a weeknight. Arnie swore as he struggled with a spigot. A barrel of ale larger than him landed on the flagstones to his right. He winced.
“Relax, boy.” A couple of huge fingers turned the spigot effortlessly, then gave him a flick on the forehead. Gentle for sixteen feet of towering demon muscle, but it still hurt. He rubbed his forehead.
“That was unnecessary, sir.” One of Silas’ usual grumpy growls. Arnie finished pouring beers, handing them over the counter. Next to him, the other part of the bar was easily twice his height. Massive fingers twisted his ear. He yelped. Silas’s orange eyes. In their default scowl.
“Keg’s got another round of plates for you to run, boy.” He grumbled to himself, tossing a towel over his shoulder
“Yes sir.” The colossal demon tapped his forehead again. Gentler, this time. Arnie stepped into the kitchen. The roaring heat of the ovens. Two magical fans didn't do much to make the heat bearable. Two counters. A little one his height, then another that took up most of the space. A vast back on the other side, sweat soaking through a tank top. “Keg!” The orc spun around, giving him a toothy grin. Big tusks stuck out of his mouth. He was a pure orc, even taller than Silas, eighteen feet of dirty bulk.
“Ah! There he is!” Despite his guttural accent, Keg’s voice was playful. “Here you go.” Keg shifted three plates from the counter above onto Arnie's level. The orc reached over and ruffled his hair with a huge, sweaty hand.
“You two don't need to treat me like a child.”
“Our little man. Treat you right.” Arnie felt his cheeks go red.
“Ah, whatever. Pass me a glass, I want some water.”
“Come back after. Those plates are late already.” Arnie shrugged, scooping up a couple of plates. He grumbled as Keg balanced the third between them. “Off you go, little man.” He turned around. Keg reached down and pinched his butt. He scowled over his shoulder. Keg put his hands up, a twinkle in his eye. “Orcish friendly custom. Means good luck.”
“That wasn’t any more believable the first time you did it.”
“You like it.” He narrowed his eyes, heading onto the floor. Three humans, waiting. He handed out their plates and headed back. Sure enough, there was glass waiting for him on the counter. Just above it on the taller counter was another one. Orc-sized.
“Don’t touch mine. Shrinking potion. Going to dwarf bar later.”
“No worries. So long as you haven't dosed this one.” He stared at it. There was a little bit of a sheen to it. “You need a proper pot washer on weekdays. This looks kind of oily.”
“Won’t hurt you. Not usually this busy. Silas gives me you on the weekends. I'll be back, need a leak.”
“Charming.” He tipped the glass up and drank, swallowing eagerly as Keg left the room. A strange flavour to the water. He focused on the heavy footsteps heading outside. The rustle of fabric, then a grunt and a heavy stream. Was Keg just taking a leak in the backyard again? Characteristically foul. He blinked as something washed over him. A strange kind of feeling. He rubbed his temple. What was that? Not pain, exactly. Just a strange feeling of… sinking. He reached out for the counter. It was… higher than it should be. He felt his eyes widen. He wasn't dumb.
“Keg, you motherfucker!” No response. He climbed onto the counter, looking around. The taller counter. He had to climb up the side, the kitchen booking in size around him. A huge, shallow bowl of stew cooling on the counter. Above him, the shelf where Keg kept seasoning. Plenty of nails and ruts for him to climb. “Keg!” It was a futile effort. He should have shouted louder when it first started. He wedged his hand in a crack and climbed. It was hard work. Every handhold and crack kept on multiplying in size. Finally, he got over the lip of the shelf. He let himself fall, take in a few deep breaths, got his bearings once more. The kitchen had stopped shifting. There was a pot of salt next to him. Tiny, to Keg. Maybe a few inches tall, and it was as tall as he was. That was asking for trouble in a human kitchen, let alone one scaled up for an orc. He looked around. Stock, bubbling on the stove. Keg's stew was a vast lagoon beneath him. Finally, Keg stomped back in.
“My boy already gone? Hmm. Silas needs him.”
“No, you bastard! You shrunk me! Here!” Keg didn't notice him. It was too loud. The ovens, the magical fans, Keg's humming. Even at eye height, Keg wasn’t paying attention to him. The orc stretched. A belch.
“Nice.” He reached for his stew, tasting it. “More salt.” His eyes stayed down, but his hand reached up. Arnie yelped.
“Be careful, Keg!” The giant reached behind him and swiped up the salt. It dragged Arnie forwards. For a moment, he thought he was going to save it, balanced on the edge of his shelf. Then he went tumbling down into the marsh of stew beneath him. For a moment, he was drowning in thick soup. He forced his way out, taking in a breath. Stew on his tongue. It would have been pleasant if he wasn't drowning in it. The door opened and the orc looked up. Silas. Keg beamed.
“Hello, love. All goes well?” A big finger sprinkled salt over the plate. Not even looking. Arnie dived to avoid the hail, wiping his face as he resurfaced.
“... the boy, Keg. Where is he?” A huge, sweaty belly above him. Keg hiked up his shirt and gave it a scratch.
“He was here. Ran food out for me.”
“Yeah. He got the food out. He walked back in here. What then? He's not about to run off, we treat him well.” Keg scratched his head and frowned. He reached for a bread roll on the side, tearing off a chunk.
“Let me eat on it.” A huge green hand reached down. Arnie froze. For some reason, his legs had stopped working. The chunk of bread scooped him up, soaked in stew. Some stupid, misplaced instinct made him hang on, terrified of falling. A colossal tusked mouth. He realised his mistake and tried to squirm out. The orc's grey-flecked beard, rough green skin. A cavernous, stinking belch. A rush of foul air. He reeled. A huge tongue scooped him up. Before he could even react, Keg tossed in the rest of the bread next to him. The orc's mouth slammed shut. A huge tongue rolled him playfully over, then he was tossed backwards, towards Keg's massive gullet. “Hey! KEG! Come on! Please!” Futile. Keg swallowed. The darkness of the orc’s gullet squeezed him tight, plunging him down, just another morsel. The warm squeeze of Keg's throat. Saliva, slicked over his body. He went tumbling out of an opening onto something wet and fleshy. Thirty seconds since he had been balanced safe by the salt. Ten at most from the bowl to the depths of Keg's belly. He shuddered. Darkness. Huge folds of muscle. Liquid just a little below, threatening to swallow him up. He was barely safe, and he could feel muscle preparing to churn beneath him.
Outside, Silas crossed his arms. “Are you done?” Keg licked his lips, wiping his hands on his apron.
“Yeah. So. Little man. Took food. Came back. Drank water, empty glass is there. Shrinking potion next to it. I went out back to piss, I came back. Can't be far.” Silas looked down. He frowned, prodding the bigger glass.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“This just a glass of water.” Keg's eyes widened. He bustled round and picked up the smaller glass between finger and thumb, raising it to his nose and sniffing. Something guttural and harsh in Orcish.
“I shrunk him.”
“You gave him a shrinking potion made for an orc? He’s a third our height. A fraction of our size.” Keg’s eyes widened. Genuine fear.
“I know. Must be tiny. Few inches?” Silas growled.
“Relax. He’ll be fine. I have magic on him, he can’t be hurt in the tavern. Eyes to the floor, watch where you step. He has to be here somewhere.”
“You can find him quicker.”
“Not without some kind of bodily fluid from him.”
“We live together. I know your stash.” Silas gave him a stony look. An irreproachable stare back.
“Fine. Give me a moment. Go man the bar before someone starts a fight, it’s just the three of us tonight. Make sure the boy isn't where you step. It won’t kill him, but getting stepped on at our full weight still won't make him feel good.” A salute. Keg picked up his bread and stew. “Leave that.”
“I stress eat.” Silas growled, stalking out and up the stairs. The flat, door open. Keg's dirty jock, discarded on the floor. He lifted up a cupboard. An alcove in the wall behind it. Rows of tiny vials. Silas picked out a small one on the second row, raising it up to his eye. A few drops of blood, some sweat, a little saliva. The boy hadn’t let him bully him into a proper sample of his blood when he had first arrived. Silas should have fixed that before this sort of thing happened. He popped open the cap, the seal smoking as he pulled it open. The smell of brimstone. Silas shook out a drop onto his finger, raising it to his lips. The gentle iron taste of human blood. The taste of attraction, too. He clenched his jaw. He already knew the little man was attracted to him. The last thing he needed to be right now was a sex-crazed incubus. He took a deep breath. Another. A few more until he was finally calm. Then he flicked out his tongue, tasting the air. The boy hadn’t been here for a few days. Not since Keg had last dragged him upstairs to feed him. He set the cap back on the vial, the edges glowing orange for a moment as it resealed. He headed down the stairs. Scent and taste washed over him. He paused to take it in. Scent trails, criss-crossing the kitchen threshold. All recent. One was different, though. Muted. That had to be it.
“For fuck’s sake, boy. At the very least stay where you can’t get stepped on by any strangers.” He stepped out into the bar. All sorts of sensations. Lust, stress, drunken stupor. Not what he wanted. He twisted his head from side to side. There. A scent. Recent. Keg released a stifled belch. A waft. Silas froze. He screwed his eyes shut for a moment. “Get back here.” Keg tore a chunk off his bread. “Stop fucking eating.” Keg swallowed shamelessly, following him through to the kitchen. “Open your mouth.” The big man obliged. Silas leaned in and sniffed, wrinkling his nose. “You ate him.” A big brow furrowed.
“He’s okay?” Silas rubbed his temples.
“Probably safer than out here where we can’t see him.” Keg pulled up his shirt, letting his hairy belly spill out. A bounce of his gut. “Focus. Go out back and throw him up.”
“Can I tell him he’s safe?”
“Just go throw him up before you digest his apron. Those things are pricey.”
“I don’t want to throw him up.” Silas growled. “If you did this. If he was tiny, and you swallowed. You knew he was safe, you knew he was warm. You wouldn't throw up, no? You would wait.” Silas felt something in his brow popping.
“I’m not stupid enough to swallow an entire man by accident, however small.” A shrug.
“Wasn't on purpose. He’s safe. Accidents happen. What's the issue?”
“We need him for our goddamn pub.”
“So I close the kitchen. It’s late. I’ll help you out front.” Silas locked his jaw, eyeing Keg up.
“Fine. You keep him. I’ll write you a note to swallow. You’re going to owe him one hell of an apology, and you’re not going out tonight.” A lopsided orcish grin. Silas scowled at him. “Learn some fucking shame.”
“He likes big men.”
“Not from the inside.”
“Jealous demon.” The orc wrapped him up in a hug. Silas snarled at him, giving him a shove through to the front of the house. Keg grabbed his hand, bouncing through happily. There was a stupid fucking smile plastered across his face. He sat cross-legged on the floor. Too tall for Silas to step over like Arnie. And the cupboards were too small for him. Silas gave him one last shove for good measure and got back to work. It was still a busy evening. Next to him, Keg kept on getting distracted by his own stomach, hypnotised by the idea of his passenger. Silas watched as the orc drummed on his belly.
“You think he likes me - you know. Bouncing my gut?”
“I think you’re drowning him in half-eaten food and beer and every time you do that.” Keg stared at him. Silas looked down and winced. “Cover that up.” A grin. Keg his his crotch with a teatowel and got back to work. A few drinks served later and he poured himself a beer. He emptied it down his gullet, releasing a belch.
“Keg.”
“He'll be fine. He likes men gross. I'm giving him a - hmm. A show.”
“I don't care. You drink after shift, not during.” The idiot had conjured more food from somewhere, of course. A steak sandwich. He tore off a piece with gusto, gulping it down. A playful look. Silas knew that one. “Do you want to close the bar? Just for a few minutes?”
“Now is not the time.”
“I can blow you.”
“I'm not covering the pup in my sperm for you.”
“Then… I'll jerk off. Have a quick swallow.”
“No. Shut up and work.”
“So boring. Here. One for you.” A second sandwich. Silas accepted it begrudgingly and got back to work. Hours later, they were finally done. Silas set the bar across the doors, dusting his hands.
“We’re done.” He strode back behind the bar as Keg put the last chair up. A happy orcish bounce towards him. The usual boundless energy. Silas poured an ale, sliding it over, then a whiskey for himself. “Fucking finally. I swear to god, Keg. Of all the days to trap my barman in your fat belly.” A grin.
“Still jealous? I make us something to eat.”
“The boy will already be in your guts by now. If you're trying to cover him in more half-eaten food, it's a lost cause.” A shrug.
“Now I just want to share food. You're my love. Hungry?”
“Fine.” Silas followed him into the kitchen, eyeing him up.
“What?”
“We had a deal. We get him to come live upstairs with us before anything else.” Keg tossed him a bread roll.
“We do that still. When he comes out.”
“As if he’ll still want that now.”
“I think so. You bully him, I cuddle him, he won't say no.” Silas drummed his fingers on the counter, watching Keg bustle around the stove.
“I’m still pissed off.” A shrug.
“So we - hmm. Pull you away. We work out how much space a little human needs. We pick up his things. He leaves his keys in his jacket. It's still hanging up by the door.”
“No. We have to get verbal confirmation.” A chuckle.
“Demons always need things spelled out. He would be in my bed already if it was just me.” Silas tore a piece off his bread.
“You can’t accidentally make little men fall in lust with you.”
“Well, you sorted that already. We did the test. Without your magic, he wants us anyway.” A broad hand landed on his shoulder, rubbing at the knots in his muscle. “I know what will make you better. Food, fuck, shower, sleep. You’ll be better tomorrow. With him in your hands.”
“It might well be the day after. And it’ll be days before he’s a normal size. You gave him an undiluted orcish-concentration shrinking potion.” Keg handed him a bowl of stew and another bread roll.
“You keep him when he comes out. Wherever you want him.” Silas narrowed his eyes at him. Keg grinned. “No stress. Come on. Eat.”
Barric watched the human's chest rise and fall beneath his furs. Some impressively loud snoring for such a small man. He lifted the covers carefully, rolling him to inspect his backside. The little man's ass had healed up nicely. A little too nicely. Barric liked to leave a mark. But he didn't want the little man getting cold feet, so it he would be gentle today. It was a human weekend. The market was closed, so the little man had no work for the next couple of days. Give and take, punishment and reward. The human would learn the rules sooner or later. A change in breathing, the snoring skipped a beat, a tired mumble. Barric turned him back over gently. Small eyes opened. Apprehension. Barric raised his hands, palms open. He had no reason to punish the little man today. He patted his lap. For a moment, a little resistance. Then the events of the previous day seemed to settle in. The human crawled into Barric's lap. “Good boy.” He should be able to pick that up just from Barric's tone. Barric exhaled. This was nice. The little man fit well between his legs. The next problem to be solved was food. He went to sit outside, keeping a heavy hand on the back of the human's neck. For discipline, for reassurance. Nerves on the little man's face as he watched the camp wake up around him. Restless fidgeting. This was fear, not insubordination, so Barric had more patience for it. He collected a couple of bowls of food and water for them, led the little man over to the nearest campfire, watched it burning warm and merry. Soon enough, Barric and his human had full bellies. He sat back, running his hand over a small head. There was more emotion in the little man's face, now. A little bit of pleasure. Anger and humiliation. Barric wasn't quite sure why. A jerky little movement that was probably an attempt to stand up. Barric huffed, gently placing a hand on a small stomach. No getting away. Eventually, when he realised no one blinked twice at his presence, he seemed to calm down. He said something in Human. Barric looked at him, furrowing his brow.
“Again.”
“What's your name?” Barric just about understood that. He rubbed his chin.
“Sir.” That was what the human should be calling him, anyway.
“Sir?” He wondered if the little man knew what he was saying. Probably not, there had been no complaining. A small hand pointed at the human's chest.
“Igrim.” It could have passed as Orcish. Another layer to that false mask of masculinity.
“Alright, puppy.” The little man was looking at him. He looked down. Confusion. Barric raised an eyebrow.
“Igrim.” That seemed to have satisfied him. He huffed as the little man turned back to the fire. “Puppy.” Barric had spare time today. He ferried the puppy - Igrim, he supposed - back to the tent. A blink. Hopeful eyes as they sat down. Barric smiled at him, patting his thighs. The little man climbed eagerly into his lap. A few brief growls. Barric tolerated it. He opened his mouth a little, lifting the little man up under the armpits until he was standing up. He brushed his lips against a small mouth. The pleasant feeling of warmth against his tusks. The little man got the message quickly enough, opening up. Barric was free to kiss him properly. While the little man was focused on his tongue, he lifted the lid of a pot behind them. Oil. A little anaesthetic herb to make sure the human was comfortable. Barric rubbed it between his fingers, his other hand holding the little man's face. Then he reached down his breeches and slipped a finger between Igrim's cheeks. This was rather unexpected, apparently. The human pulled back and snarled at him. Barric raised an eyebrow. Reluctant submission. Barric probed a little, testing a tight hole. Soft, warm flesh, parting around his finger. A wince. Barric examined his reactions carefully. There was no hurry. He went a little deeper. Sticky velvet walls. Too much feeling for the little man to control his reaction this time. A shudder and a moan. Barric grinned. It wasn't difficult, taking this one apart. This was fairly tame as training went. It still reduced the human to a twitching mess in minutes. Desperate bucks backwards into Barric's fingers. That was the disadvantage of anaesthetic lube. The little man couldn't really sense potential danger. In the end, he took full control again. Set the rhythm, held the little man in place when he got too eager, kept a close eye on his hole so that nothing got hurt. It was a perfectly fine dynamic. Barric had no problem with taking control. In the end, the little man spilled his seed rather abruptly. Barric blinked. That had been sudden. He supposed it made sense. This was probably a rather overwhelming sensation for him. Barric didn't need him to be hard the whole time, and he wasn't planning on a long-term session. They could work on stamina another time. He explored the little man's insides for a while longer, adding another finger, training his body slowly. Shuddering and moaning and convulsions of pleasure. Dramatic little puppy. The world was hardly ending. His reactions were satisfying, though. A little more, gentle heat squeezing and straining around his fingers. Another orgasm. Little whines. Barric pressed a kiss against his crown with a soothing rumble. A few more minutes, watching shivering and whining, feeling that tight little muscle squeezing eagerly around his knuckles. Finally, he pulled out. A soft little squelch. The little man all but collapsed into him, burrowing into his heat. A cuddle, one human fallen back into slumber, then Barric went off to source them both food and water. Next it was time for work. The little human didn't seem very happy to be conscripted. In an orc camp, though, everyone contributed, so he needed to earn his keep. Lots of complaining. Yesterday's discipline would hold him for now. Barric sent him back and forth from the camp to grab supplies, pooling his knowledge with the other woodcutters to communicate with him. It was helped by the reward of food at the end. Orcish cooking was rather better than an isolated human town like this. Ingredients traded from every corner of the continent helped a lot. By the end of the afternoon, the little man seemed happy, his belly full and Barric's arm over his shoulders. He was settling in.
