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Text File | 1994-03-26 | 33.0 KB | 663 lines

This is M/M s/m ruff-stuff


Download from a local gay bbs fantasy pub
     Full credit and no changes are posted



@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ
The following a story contains graphic sex,
both consensual and nonconsensual, between
adult men.  Violence is suggested, although
not much enacted.  It is a work of complete
fantasy; any similarities between real
people and characters in this story are
purely coincidental (and impossible)!  If
any of this offends you or turns you off,
stop reading now! If you are under 18 years
of age, do not read this!.
@END_FILE_ID.DIZ


                        JAKE'S TURN
                         by Lambert
                    Copyright 1994 Lambert


I had been looking down at Jake for years.  You see, before that, from
ninth grade on, we had been friends, doing everything together.  Since we
were both runts we ran from the big bullies together.  And since we were
both nerds we had lots of nerdy, intellectual stuff to talk about.  In
other words, we were best friends, as only teenagers can be.

Then it happened.  Jake went off to Europe for 11th grade as an exchange
student.  At that time we were both around 5'6"  tall, 140 pounds.  But
while Jake was gone, I hit my growth spurt, and not just any ordinary
growth spurt.  By June, I stood 6'8" tall and weighed 225 pounds.  I was
working out to keep my build in pace with my height, and eating like a
Hoover.  The varsity basketball and football teams both asked me tojoin
them.  Me, a runt nerd, playing basketball center.  I was really happy to
be tall.

In my letters to Jake I said nothing about my new size;  I figured it
would be awkward enough when he came home; why start early?  In late
August, Jake called and said he was home, and that he was on his way over.
Half an hour later, I opened the front door, and looked down, way down, at
my little best friend.  While I had been growing 14 inches, he had only
gone from 5'6" to all of 5'6 1/2".  He looked straight ahead at my chest,
and then slowly bent his neck back, tilting his head up and up until his
eyes met mine.  I smiled down at him, and gave him a big hug, lifting him
off the ground.

"Damn," he said, "you got big."

"Yeah."

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Good," he said. "Let's go for a ride.  I'll tell you all about my trip."

So we walked to his car.  I couldn't get over how short he looked.
Especially, since I'd been playing sports, and I wasnow used to hanging
out with guys close to my own size.  Jake looked so tiny, and, well,
pitiful.  I thought about how I had so narrowly escaped being doomed to be
a short little pathetic runt the rest of my life, like Jake would be.  The
funny thing is, when I was short too, I'd always had a crush on Jake, but
never told him; I hadn't even told him I was gay, although I suspected he
was too.  Now, I didn't exactly have a crush on him.  I felt kind of like
. . . wanting to rough him up a little.  It was just as much a sexual
feeling as my infatuation had been, and I was getting aroused as we walked
together.  In just a few seconds I was several paces ahead of him, because
his legs were so short.  So, I slowed down.

When we reached the car, I stepped in, and started to laugh.  Jake was
sitting comfortably behind the steering wheel, and I was kissing my knee
caps.

"Jake, can you move the seat back some?"

He inched us back a minuscule length.

"Um, can you move it some more?"

"Dave, I can't move back any more."

"Why not, Jake?" I asked disingenuously, since I already knew the answer,
and just wanted to hear him admit the obvious.

"Because if we back up any more, I won't be able to reach the pedals."

"Then, let me drive," I said.

So we switched places, and I slowly slid the front seat back, further and
further, till we were practically in the back seat.  I tested the pedals:
perfect.  Then I glanced at Jake.  His mouth hung open, literally, looking
at me in shock.  There was enough space between him and the dash board for
a pool table.  That's how long my legs were.  And that's when I started to
tease him.

"Now, don't forget your seat belt, little feller."

And that became our new pattern: friendly teasing.  At least, I thought it
was friendly.  We both went off to the same college, where we both came
out of the closet.  We would go to dances together; sometimes I would
dance with him, and pick him up off the floor and swing him around.  He
would shout for me to stop, and I would hold him even higher up in the
air.  We each dated other guys, but I did much better at it than he did.
So usually, he would end up tagging along with me and my current
boyfriend.  I usually dated tall guys.  So it would be two guys over six
and half feet tall, walking around with little Jake, like he was our
child.  Sometimes, I even pretended he was our kid.  After a movie, I
might pat him on the head and ask him,

"Does our little boy want ice cream now?"

He would look frustrated, but would go along with it.  And he always
looked jealous of my tall boyfriends.  They were kind of stuck up, and
probably made him feel inferior.

After we graduated, we both moved to the same city, but saw each other
less frequently.  He went on a trip to Southeast Asia, and when he
returned, invited me over to his place for dinner.  He was already
drinking when I arrived; I joined him and had a couple, but he was way
ahead of me, and was drunk before dinner.

I pulled a chair back from the table and sat down.  The chair was much too
tiny, and the table too low for me to sit comfortably.

"Jake, I wish you'd get some adult sized furniture, instead of this play
set stuff."  It was my first size comment of the evening.

That's when he smiled a wicked smile that made me nervous.  I didn't know
why.

"Oh, are you uncomfortable?  I want to be a gracious host, but what can I
do?  Should I run out and buy a new dining room set?  Dave, is that what
you'd like?"

"Just forget it, Jake.  I was only kidding around.  You shouldn't drink so
much."

"I shouldn't drink so much.  You're absolutely right.  I'm so small, the
alcohol has too much effect."  His tone was bitter.

"Well, now that you mention it, that's true.  I can handle a lot more
liquor than you because I'm so big."

He said nothing.  I shifted in my seat.  A few seconds of silence passed
while Jake stared at me.  I kept shifting, and felt restless, like my
clothes didn't fit right.

"How's the chair feel now, Dave?"

"What?  I told you it's too small."  I paused.  "But to tell you the
truth, it feels a little better now."

He relaxed when I said that, and we ate dinner.  Then he carried in the
dessert, a small iced layer cake.

"Dave, I need your help with the dessert."

"Sure, Jake, what can I do?"

"I want to see you jump out of the cake."

I laughed. "What do you mean?"

But he didn't smile.  I fidgeted again, and again, and suddenly felt the
room expanding.  It was like a funhouse ride, but there were no special
mirrors.  The chair got bigger, the table rose higher, the ceiling shot up
to the sky.  I was swimming in heavy canvas cloth.  Finally, the storm
ended and I stood up.  I was naked.  I looked down and saw a big metal
disk sitting on the canvas.  It was black and pink.  I stepped back and
felt my blood rush as I recognized the object: it was my pink triangle
button, pinned to my shirt; but instead of being about 2 inches in
diameter, it was 2 feet.  It seemed I was just six inches tall.

From above, far above, I heard a thunderous noise.  I stared straight up
in the air, and saw the enormous face of my old pal Jake.  He looked like
a Thanksgiving Parade float.  But he was solid, and moved like he was
alive.  A gigantic hand wrapped around my waist and lifted me into the
air, until I hovered several yards beneath Jake's' huge face, across from
his collar bone.  Incredibly, the enormous face turned down towards me,
and its huge eyes seemed to aim at mine.

"HOW'S IT FEEL TO LOOK UP AT YOUR OLD BEST FRIEND FOR THE FIRST TIME, BIG
GUY?"

I trembled, naked and cold in Jake's hand, unable to speak.

"I SAID, HOW'S IT FEEL?  LITTLE DAVE."

This time, he raised his voice, hurting my ears.  His hand squeezed me
tighter.  I took control of my own voice, to appease him.

"It feels bad, Jake."

"BAD, DAVE?  JUST BAD?  I REMEMBER HOW I HATED SUDDENLY HAVING TO LOOK UP
AT YOUR NOSTRILS WHEN YOU GOT TALL.  YOU DON'T MIND LOOKING UP MY
NOSTRILS, DAVE?"

His hand lifted me up to his face, and forced my head up into his nose.
In the darkness, I felt his warm breath all over my face.  The nostril
hairs scratched and tickled my skin.  Then I heard him sniff.  The sound
was like a hurricane wind.  I felt thick, wet, hot liquid dripping down
onto my face.  Jake pulled me out of his nose and back down to his chest.
I wiped the giant's snot off my face, and was shocked to discover my
erection dangling in the air, below Jake's tree trunk fingers.

I have a big cock, almost ten inches, but it looked like a pencil eraser
next to Jake's pinkie.  I grabbed a handful of snot, wiped it over my
penis, and started stroking.  Jake raised me to his eye level and watched
me masturbate.  I stopped and looked ahead at the expanse of his face.  I
fixated on the thick, dark, sharp looking bristles that emerged every four
or five inches from his skin:  whiskers.

He shook me in his hand and yelled, "KEEP GOING, DAVE!"

I resumed jerking off.  I looked down and saw that Dave had pulled his own
penis out of his vast pants, and was stroking it with his free hand.  I
had seen Jake's penis before.  Jake's cock is only five inches long, and
that's when he's completely hard and ready to burst.  I remember feeling
sorry for him when I first saw it.  We were having sex, a threesome, with
one of my teammates on the college basketball team, a big dark-haired
lanky guy, 6'6", 240 pounds, with a thick nine inch cock.  He laughed when
he saw Jake's cock.  I laughed too, nervously, when I compared our three
cocks; next to our long, thick cocks, Jake's little dick looked like an
apostrophe.  Then I felt guilty.  Jake had looked so humiliated, and
excluded.

Now, Jake's puny prick was a log of flesh five feet long and two feet
wide.  Jake must have seen me glance down at his enormous penis, because
he lowered me down next to it.

"LET'S STROKE OFF TOGETHER, DAVE.  YOU JERK YOUR BIG DICK WITH THE MUCOUS
FROM MY NOSE, AND I'LL STROKE MY PITIFUL LITTLE COCK, RIGHT IN YOUR FACE."

The crazy thing is that his big voice, and his contemptuous words aroused
me even further.  I wiped more snot out of my hair and started pulling
furiously on my penis.  Meanwhile, Jake's huge hand was pumping his own
monstrous organ, just a few feet from my face.  He pumped faster and
faster, stopping only to lubricate himself with some Vaseline (squeezed
from a six foot plastic tube).  His heavy panting quickened.  He lifted me
to his face and licked me all over with his vast, rough, wet tongue.  Then
he quickly lowered me back to his cock.  The thick, white cum poured by
the gallon out of his one foot long slit like cream from a fire hose,
gushing all over my face and chest.  I was swallowing the giant's cum and
choking on it when I started to cum too.  I felt the few tablespoons of my
own semen drip onto my little fingers.  Jake pushed my body up against his
huge, heavy, softening cock, and firmly pressed my whole face against just
a patch of his musty cock skin.  I wrapped one arm as far around his big,
meaty sex organ as I could, and then easily wrapped my other hand around
my own tiny little nine inch dick.  I considered the absurd difference in
magnitude between the two objects, and I felt ridiculous, less than an
apostrophe.  Jake squeezed me against his soft cock flesh, then pulled me
away.  He carried me to the table and stuck me down into the layer cake,
with just my head poking out above the surface.

"FROM NOW ON, DAVE, YOU'RE MY LITTLE TOY MAN.  AND THAT'S ALL YOU'RE EVER
GOING TO BE.  I'LL KEEP YOU IN A BOX, WAY UP HIGH ON A SHELF THAT I NEED A
STEP LADDER TO REACH.  WE SHORT GUYS HATE HIGH SHELVES, DON'T WE DAVE?"

"Yes, Jake."  Now I was less than a short guy.  I was a short guy's
helpless little six inch pet.

"RIGHT, DAVE.  BUT YOU'RE NOT JUST SHORT.  YOU'RE MINUSCULE.  YOU'RE
NOTHING. YOU'LL SIT ALL ALONE IN YOUR BOX, UNTIL I WANT TO PLAY WITH YOU.
IN YOUR BOREDOM, I AM WHAT YOU WILL LOOK FORWARD TO.  I'LL TAKE YOU OUT
AND HOLD YOU LIKE A LITTLE DOLL.  I'LL POKE AT YOUR TINY LITTLE BODY, AND
YOUR EENSY LITTLE PENIS.  I'LL CUM ON YOU; THEN I'LL PISS ON YOU TILL
YOU'RE CLEAN.  AND WE'LL PLAY GAMES, LIKE: "DAVE IN MY JOCK STRAP" AND
"DAVE IN THE PEANUT BUTTER", AND MY FAVORITE, "DAVE THE DILDO".  YOUR
DESIRES, YOUR PLEASURE WILL MEAN NOTHING TO ME, DAVE.  AND I AM YOUR
UNIVERSE.  I AM YOUR GOD.  DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE DIFFERENCE IS BETWEEN YOU
AND A KLEENEX FULL OF MUSHED MEAT, DAVE?"

"No, Jake."

"MY WHIM!  HA!  FROM NOW ON, DAVE, YOU HAVE ONE TASK IN LIFE: AMUSE JAKE,
SO HE DOESN'T SUDDENLY DECIDE TO TOSS YOU DOWN THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL. YOU
CAN START BY POPPING OUT OF MY CAKE, NOW, AND SURPRISING ME.  "

I looked up at my huge, imponderable friend, the master of my fate, and
couldn't help but admire the vast meadow of muscle that was his chest.  I
thought of rolling through his chest hair like grass on a hill.  Then, I
came again, several feet below the surface, spurting semen from my little
dick into the gigantic cake.  Slowly, I began flailing, gradually to work
my way up to the icing.


        * * * *

Jake sat at his desk, reading the evening paper, while Dave struggled with
the giant nail file.  As Jake's sleepy eyes fell to a profile of the
Secretary of State, he yawned, and glanced down at Dave in his efforts.

"Make them nice and smooth, big guy.  I have an important meeting
tomorrow."

Dave gathered his strength, and patience, and hoisted the thirty pound
file with renewed vigor against Jake's huge nails.  Each nail on the
giant's log-sized fingers appeared to be a square foot in area and Dave
coughed from the dust that fell from Jake's fingertips as he worked.
Until the day Jake shrank Dave into a six inch man, Dave had been a 6 foot
8 inch, 250 pound hulk.  Ironically, physical servitude was making Dave
even stronger and more muscular, although on a frustratingly smaller
scale.  Between the exercise of filing Jake's platter-sized nails, picking
Jake's refrigerator-sized nose, scrubbing Jake's manhole-sized asshole,
waxing Jake's hairy field of a back, and, of course, stimulating Jake's
man-sized cock daily, Dave had become the mightiest mite in sight.  And
Jake kept Dave well nourished, with lots of scraps tossed down at him from
the thirty foot high dining room table.

During the six months he had been Jake's slave, Dave spent every weekday
in a shoebox, stored high on a bookshelf that Jake, who was only 5 foot 6
inches himself, needed a step stool to reach.  Jake had cut a window into
the box, so Jake could look outside, but life in the box was dull.  Only
the miniature magazine articles Jake prepared for him, by photocopy
reduction, relieved Dave's boredom.  The saddest part to Dave was that,
just as Jake had predicted, he looked forward everyday to Jake's coming
home to play with him.  "I am Jake's dog," Dave realized.

Every evening when Jake arrived home, if he was awake, Dave listened to
the far off sounds of Jake's straightening up the house, then cooking
dinner.  Finally, Jake would climb up and grab Dave's box.  If Dave had
been sleeping, Jake would scare him awake with a "BOO!" or a CLAP!  Then
he emptied and refilled Dave's litter box, priding himself on being a
conscientious master.

Jake would pick little Dave up out of his cardboard house, and carefully
remove his doll clothes.  By now Jake had collected quite a wardrobe for
Dave, who wondered what the giant toy store clerks out there in the big
world, thought of this little balding man, Jake, who regularly bought so
many outfits for the Ken doll.  In his daydreams, Dave imagined the
brilliant clerk who surmised what Jake was up to, and contacted the
authorities, who rescued Dave.  Unfortunately, the implausibility of every
aspect of that scenario made it a disappointingly abstract, and
comfortless dream.  Dave was becoming depressed.

Each night, as the routine continued, Jake placed Dave on the floor next
to the dining room table for dinner.  Jake usually watched CNN while he
ate, ignoring Dave, except to throw forkfuls of meat and vegetables at him
during commercials.

"Here come the peas, jumbo.  Better duck."  And the poolball-sized legumes
descended.  At least Jake was a good cook.

Next was the manicure, which Dave was now completing with a last sweep of
Jake's left pinkie.

Jake extended his giant hand and admired his cuticles.

"Nice work, Dave.  Now here's your tip."

Jake grabbed Dave's naked body and lifted it up yard after yard into the
air until Dave reached Jake's face, a vast, inhuman sight of stubble and
coarse hide, to which Dave was now accustomed.  Jake's football-sized
brown eyes focused on Dave's itty-bitty muscular shape, then narrowed onto
Dave's little mouse face.

Jake's tongue stretched out and lapped wet over Dave's entire body.

"Mmmm.  You taste sweaty from your exercise.  You must have tasted like
that back in high school too, after the basketball games."

Here he goes, Dave thought.

"I remember watching you in the gym.  The game was over, and you were hot.
You walked off the court, lifting your T-shirt up to your face, to wipe
the sweat away.  I always rushed out from the bleachers, and managed to
stand next to you at that moment.  I stared ahead at your moist belly, and
looked up to your chest, and way, way up to your face.

"How tall were you then, Dave?" Jake asked, as he always did.

"I was six feet eight inches tall, Jake, and you were just five feet six,"
Dave answered, as always.

"That's right, you were so tall, and handsome.  I stared up at your sweaty
face, and long black hair, and I couldn't believe how big you were, how
far away your face was.  I had to look up just to see the crucifix hanging
down over your chest.  I marveled at how your body could be so vast!.  All
through freshman and sophomore years we were the same miserable, stingy
little height.  But now you had become a big, generously sized
man-mountain.  I hated you for growing so much bigger than me, but I loved
staring up at you.  Sometimes you would glance down and notice me.  You'd
say, 'Hi stretch,' that's what you called me.  And I looked up into your
eyes, so far away, and high above me.  I was embarrassed to have you see
me, down there near your sweaty stomach, staring up at your pink nipples
and the sprinkled hairs on your chest.  'Hi tiny,' I said, because that's
what you made me call you.

"Isn't that right, big guy?" Jake asked.

"Yeah, that's right, shorty," Dave replied, knowing his part in this
fantasy well.

"And I wanted to hug you around your vast flat moist belly.  Just to wrap
my short little arms around your big waist and smother my face in your
sweaty stomach.  I wanted to lick your perspiration and wipe my eyes and
cheeks all over your freckled, skin.  Your skin stretched so far!  My face
was closer to your big ass than to your face, Dave.

"Sometimes, when you didn't know I was watching, I would stand behind you
while you bent down at a water fountain for a drink.  I would watch your
big, wide butt pop up in front of my eyes.  Your legs looked as big and
long as my whole body.  And I stared at your ass.  It was so huge.  But it
was beautiful, in perfect proportion to your big-boned body.  It was
especially great if you were wearing white basketball shorts, and I could
see your long, hairy legs, and follow the hairs up into your shorts.  I
wanted to wipe my face all over your butt, and press it into you.  Lick
your butt all over."

And that's what Jake was doing now.  Licking Dave all over.  And jerking
his own massive prick beneath the desk.  His beast-like tongue lathered
Dave's body with saliva.  It wiped Dave's whole body like a lollipop, over
and over again, while down below, Jake's enormous right hand fisted over
his gigantic penis, in reality only five thin inches long.  The monster
tongue zeroed in on Dave's little cock, and Jake wrapped his thick wet
lips around it.  The tiny piece of Dave's manhood disappeared and
reappeared into and out of the giant's wet mouth.  Dave looked down at
Jake's big lips, and up at his massive nose.  He grew more and more
excited as he thought about the huge hand wrapped around his naked little
body.  He stared up at Jake's eyelids -- closed shut in vengeful ecstasy
-- and Dave gratefully came into the giant's mouth.

Jake felt the salty drops of semen on his tongue.  Then he thrust Dave
downward to his prick, so fast and so far that Dave felt lightheaded.
Jake positioned Dave in front of his sofa-sized log of meat, and Jake's
own plentiful semen gushed over Dave's torso.  Jake wiped Dave's face
against his cock head, smearing Dave in cum.  Dave reached up and massaged
the giant's silky penis skin, until Jake laid Dave's spent, little body on
the desk top, to rest a few minutes before bath time.  Bath time was a
happy time, but a frightening one for Dave.

After the drowsiness of orgasm had worn off, Jake wrapped his hand around
Dave's naked body and carried him, swinging at Jake's side, to the
bathroom.  The sink, the size of a family swimming pool, was already
filled with warm water.  The drain, as always, was plugged, but Dave knew
that at Jake's next whim, he could be sucked down to a deadly world of
giant rats and waterbugs.  Instead, Jake dunked Dave down gently into the
soapy water, shampooed his hair, and then held him under the running
faucet to rinse off.  To Jake it must have seemed a tender, domestic
moment.  To Dave, as frightening as it was, it was the most love he could
hope for.

Jake wrapped Dave in a fresh, dry washcloth, and carried him to the
bedroom.  On his dresser, Jake dressed Dave in Ken- Doll's flannel
pajamas, then tucked Dave into Ken-Doll's bed, which rested on Jake's
night stand.  The giant lips descended on Dave's face, and kissed him good
night.  They slept side-by-side.

        * * * * *

Many times in the six months of his captivity, Dave had asked Jake to
restore him to normal size.

"You wouldn't even have to make me six-eight again, Jake.  You could make
me shorter than you.  Five feet four, or three.  At least I could have a
life."

"You have a life, Dave, with me."

And Jake would punish Dave's request.  Sometimes it seemed that punishing
Dave was Jake's only creative activity.  He would leave him trapped in a
jar all day, with a piece of smelly cheese.  Or he'd dip him in honey and
peanut butter, and leave him sitting, stuck on a Ritz cracker for hours.

"Jake!" Jake said, "You got your midget in my peanut butter!"

"You got your peanut butter on my midget!" Jake replied to himself.

Jake would laugh at his own joke, and Dave had to too.

Nevertheless, Dave persisted in asking Jake for mercy.  He knew Jake would
not kill him -- at least, not intentionally.  Jake was too weak.  As small
as Dave was, he knew he was the stronger man, and would win eventually.
So he continued to plead, and take his punishment, which was better than
nothing, after all.

        * * * *

In the morning, as always, Jake ate breakfast at his desk, with Dave
sitting in front of him.  Dave had his own little toy coffee cup and pot,
which Jake filled for him each morning.  Really, they were like any
married couple, except that while Jake read the morning's newspaper, Dave
read the reduced version of yesterday's.

The phone rang, like thunder to Dave, and Jake answered it.

"My meeting!," Jake shrieked.  "Thanks, I'll be right there."

"Damn, it, Dave!  I'm late.  You'll have to spend the day on the desk --
I'm out of here."  And Jake was gone for the day.

Dave had never been out of his box while Jake was away.  For the first
time, he was free to explore as far as he could wander, which meant the
four corners of Jake's desktop.  He spent twenty minutes walking the
perimeter, to survey the possibilities.  Reference books lined the rear
edge, against the wall.  Pens, pencils, paper clips, were scattered
randomly.  The largest physical feature on this plane was Jake's computer.
As usual, Dave heard the noisy fan whirring from inside the building-sized
CPU -- he had grown accustomed to that noise, but realized suddenly that
it meant the computer was on.  He stood back and looked up at the monitor.
It was a Times Square digital billboard, flashing brightly colored flying
fish.  Dave approached the keyboard and pushed down on the space bar with
both arms.  It descended easily, and the screen lit up with the familiar
Windows desktop.  Dave looked at the clock display, and realized there
were nine hours before Jake was due home.

"Worst case, that's a lot of solitaire, " he thought.

Dave pushed against the mouse, which looked as big as a cow.  Fortunately,
Jake had skimped in that area; this mouse was as light as ... a mouse.  It
budged easily, and, for a change, Dave was in charge.  Instead of going
directly to Games, as he might have, he first ran the file manager.  From
the usual program directories he chose "Docs" .  Beneath Docs, were a
dozen subdirectories and documents, with promising titles like "Letters,"
"Stories," and "Hotpix."  But the most interesting ones, the titles that
made Dave's adrenaline run were "Shrink" and "Grow."

Oddly, Dave looked first at Shrink.  Somehow, he wanted to know exactly
what had happened to him even more than he wanted to undo it.

The document opened without a password.  Jake might be nuts, but,
fortunately, he wasn't paranoid..  In a few short paragraphs, Jake had
recorded two Cambodian spells.  One incantation would shrink an object
temporarily.  The other would shrink something permanently, reversible
only by the person who had cast the spell.  Unh, huh.

Dave switched to Grow, which contained two spells.  One restored shrunken
objects -- it would not increase the size of normal ones -- and the other
was a shield against being shrunk.

Dave's heart beat fast with anxiety.  Which spell Jake had used?

First, Dave memorized the growth spells.  Then he learned both shrinking
ones.  He played a few games of solitaire -- too frightened to test his
future.  He climbed onto Jake's breakfast plate to scavenge some toast for
lunch, then lay down for a nap.

When Dave awoke, he uttered a few meaningless sounds.  After a second of
blind turbulence, he found himself, naked, a handsome, muscular,
well-hung, six-foot eight inch man, stumbling full-sized off the desk of
his little friend Jake, landing on his own size sixteen feet.

Like Gulliver, returned from Brobdingnag, Dave felt claustrophobic in
Jake's small house.  Dave reached up to let his fingers slowly touch and
feel the rough, stucco ceiling, which for six months had been a
cathedral-like heaven above him.  The living room floor, that had extended
all this time through hundreds of thousands of square feet of space on
earth, now barely accommodated a modest, fake oriental rug. Dave leaned
against the desk, silently in shock.  Then, from somewhere in his brain,
it occurred to Dave to utter the words of the anti-shrinking spell, which
he did.  He walked, in several he- man strides, to the kitchen, where he
ate a real lunch.

Stomach full, Dave lay down on Jake's bed (his feet sticking out over the
end, of course).  He closed his eyes, and thought first about the last six
months, and then about what he would make of the next few hours.  He
imagined rummaging through Jake's closets to find his 5'6" friend's
largest clothes.  He would squeeze into them, and walk out the front door,
to retake his life.  He imagined Jake's arriving home, as usual, doing his
chores, as usual, and climbing up onto his footstool, as usual, to
retrieve his tiny lover.

Jake would find Dave's box empty, and panic, but only for a moment.  He
would remember, with a breath of relief, the urgency of that morning.

"I'll skip my manicure tonight," Jake might think to himself, "since poor
little Dave had had to spend the whole day, naked on that huge desk.

Jake might cook one of Dave's favorite appetizers -- stuffed mushroom
caps, each as big as a huge tossed salad.  Jake would carry a tray of
these tid bits into the living room, and surprise his pet with kindness.

He would scan the desktop for Dave, without success.  He would turn over
every piece of paper on the desk, but would not find his man.  He might
worry that Dave had fallen off the side, and search the floor on his hands
and knees, as if looking for a contact lens, instead of a man.  Finally,
puzzled, Jake might glance up again at the desk; perhaps he would move the
mouse, or touch a key, but somehow the reassuring, flying fish from the
computer monitor would disappear, and Jake would see the Cambodian spells
sitting mundanely on the screen, like an unfinished letter to his mother.
In Dave's mind he saw Jake crying.  And Dave, exhausted, cried himself,
until he fell asleep.

        * * * *

When Dave awoke from his nap, it was nearly seven in the evening.  He
heard Jake's car in the driveway, but did not move.  In the dark, Dave's
normal, but humanly huge body lay still, sprawled over and overflowing
from Jake's bed.  He was safe.  He did not have to run.  He did not want
to run.  The sounds he heard were familiar, but on smaller scale.  The
noise of Jake's washing the dishes, instead of sounding like Niagara
Falls, sounded like . . .  Jake's washing the dishes.  Dave listened,
alone in the dark, as Jake played out the scene Dave had earlier imagined.
First came Jake's chores.  Then the reach for Dave's box.  The gasp of
shock, the sigh of relief.  Jake even returned to the kitchen, as Jake had
predicted, to make special snacks.  He knew Jake well.

Dave, still nude, stood from the bed, his thick, ten inch cock dangling
between his long, solid thighs, and swinging languidly as Dave strode,
easily, quietly, into Jake's humble living room.  Dave saw his short
friend, frantically searching the desktop for something he'd lost.  He
approached Jake slowly from behind.  Standing still behind the little man,
Dave allowed himself to breathe heavily.  His penis filled with blood and
stood out, huge in front of him.  The head of his erect man-flesh barely,
briefly, brushed Jake's back.

Jake stiffened.  He stood still, listening to Dave's breathing, above and
behind his ears. not believing what he had felt against his skin.  Dave's
big, warm hands wrapped around Jake's waist, but Jake was silent; he
continued to stare ahead at the desk.

Dave bent down, and placed his lips against Jake's ear, gently kissing
him, and beginning to whisper,

"I'm here Jake.  I'm here."

He touched Jake's shoulders, and gave the slightest pressure to turn Jake
around to him.  Jake complied, and saw Dave's chest spread out in front of
his eyes.  He bent his neck back and slowly looked up past Dave's collar
bone, up Dave's long, thick neck, over his solid Adam's apple, past his
square chin. Past Dave's lips, his broad nose, Jake looked up into Dave's
eyes.  Dave placed his hands under Jake's arms, and slowly lifted him into
the air, until Jake's little face was at Dave's eye level.  He pulled Jake
towards him, and Jake naturally wrapped his stumpy legs as far around
Dave's massive back as he could, and grasped his arms around Dave's neck.
Dave stared into Jake's eyes for several minutes, holding Jake
effortlessly off the ground.

Dave put his mouth over Jake's nose, and stuck his tongue up into Jake's
little nostrils, one after the other, tickling Jake and tasting his snot.
Dave thought about Jake had forced Dave's whole head had up into the space
his tongue now explored.  Dave moved his lips to Jake's mouth and kissed
him, forcefully.

He dropped Jake from his arms, letting him fall roughly to the floor.
Dave stood, classically posed, hands on his hips, his throbbing penis
sticking straight out above Jake, who crouched fearfully on his knees.
Jake rose slightly, swallowed just the head of Dave's thick cock in his
mouth, and sucked it like a baby.  He expected in moments to be the size
of a sparrow, but flightless.

As Jake sucked Dave's cock, Dave closed his eyes, remembering the sight of
Jake's enormous, stinking asshole, puckered up in front of his face.  He
remembered wiping at it for fifteen minutes at a time with a tiny wet
sponge, then licking it all over with his little tongue.  He remembered
the taste and feel of gallons of Jake's sperm, soaking his face and hair,
smeared over his chest. He remembered his whole, huge body, wrapped inside
Jake's hand.  Dave opened his eyes and looked down at the familiar little
man, at the thinning scalp of hair on top of the round head of his shy
friend, whose penis was once five feet long and thick as a log. As Jake
cried softly, Dave came in his lover's mouth.

End