Author’s note: This story contains themes of timestop, mind/body control, penis reduction, and shrinking . . . all largely nonconsensual. It contains no violence, but there are scenes of moderate humiliation and, of course, lots of male/male sex. If you are under the legal age for viewing adult material in your locality, please read no further. This story is copyright 2001 by the author and may not be reposted or archived without permission. The characters herein are fictional products of the author’s admittedly warped imagination.
If you like the story, let me know. The posting of further installments of this story, which is already done, will be based upon reader input.
The Mayor, Part 3
by Martin
As the mayor and Roger looked on, amused, a nasty idea started to form in my head—an idea that was confirmed when my searching fingers closed on a small, jellybean-sized nub in the center of my pubic hair, and when the corresponding sensation in my phantom cock was of those mysterious elbow-sized probes encircling it.
It took only a moment’s more investigation to find my penis exactly where it was supposed to be. The problem was, it was less than in inch long. Somehow, Roger had done this!
“You FUCKER!” I screamed up at him from my knees, my body still unwilling to let me counter one of his orders. He laughed down in face as I ranted. “Put me back the way I was or I’ll KILL you!”
“You and what army, runt!” Roger crowed, the look on his face making me want to strangle him even more. I tested my abilities and found that, while I had to stay on my knees in that spot, my arms still worked well enough. But he stepped back out of reach when he saw me ready to throw a fist. It was just as well—I’d never hit anyone in my life.
“That WASN’T a very nice thing to do to our young friend,” the mayor said gently, causing Roger to look even more infuriated.
“Yeah, well. He started it.” I opened my mouth to protest this inanity, but the mayor held up a hand for my silence. Suddenly, I was unable to speak at all, or even utter a sound. Damn them for their control over me! My eyes blazed with fury as the mayor continued his gentle protest for the restoration of my manhood. From the tone of his voice, he might as well have been ordering tea.
“Maybe, but he didn’t do anything to deserve that, did he?” the mayor said cheerfully, then stepped forward until he was close enough to bring his hands around the massive globe of Roger’s ass, which he started kneading slowly. “And besides, how can we have any fun with him when his dick’s all out of whack with his body?”
From my position below them, I could see the cold look on Roger’s face melt as the mayor went to town on his ass like that. His eyes turned all dewy from the attention, and he brought his free hand up to cling to the mayor’s back, pressing them closer together. It was like a fucking Hallmark moment. Obviously Roger had it bad for his friend, whatever their relationship was in the “real” world.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re right,” he said in a surprisingly calm tone. “He’d be no fun at all. Let’s fix that.” The icy fist that had clenched my heart when I discovered my penis missing started to thaw at this, but it turned out to be a bit premature to hope for springtime. Roger pushed another two buttons on his little machine and I looked down in time to see my cock was indeed growing. The problem came when I felt my knees sliding on the rubber mat, the uneven friction causing me to lose my balance and tip to the side, sprawling over a weight bench.
Once I fell, it was worse. The mat continued to slide under my body, as if it had suddenly become a moving sidewalk that was somehow moving in all directions at once. The rubber pulled painfully at my leg hair as I slid over it. The bench was providing no means of support or balance. Every time I tried to prop myself against it, it would move under my arms, leaving me in an even more precarious position. The worst part was not knowing what was happening. With that nifty little device of his, Roger seemed to turn the very room against me. A quick check revealed that, at the very least, my penis was still growing back.
But the nastiest surprise at all came when it occurred to me to look to the mayor for help. He seemed to be on my side, or at least a lot nicer to me than Roger was. Still sprawled on the floor, unable to catch my balance, I rolled over and looked up. The sliding mat tugging at the sensitive skin on my ass distracted me a moment from what I was seeing. The mayor was there, all right, standing where he had been, looking down with an openly amused expression on his boyish face. But something was wrong with the picture. He was too big! Even from my position on the floor, I could see that. He must have been twelve feet tall, or more, and still getting bigger. Roger, too, had grown, was continuing to grow. Still pressing his bulky nude body against the mayor’s, he looked down at me with a triumphant smirk, as if I was a solved problem.
I opened my mouth to yell up at them, to make them stop whatever was happening, but nothing came out. Still forbidden to speak, I could only experience the horror of the two men growing, the floor’s constant slide away from me in all directions, my inability to get a grip on anything. My world was turning upside down, and nobody seemed to care in the least. In at last-ditch effort, I managed to spin myself around and face Bruiser, thinking perhaps he had managed to regain his motion and would be an ally against these two men who had managed to take control of us all, but the big bodybuilder was just as huge as—huger than—the others. And it took me THAT LONG to realize what was actually happening. Roger wasn’t growing my penis to match my body again. Oh, no. He was shrinking my body to match my penis.
I put my hands to my head and screamed a soundless scream.