It'll Stunt Your Growth
By: Giantguy
"I SAID, no foam. This has foam. I said NO foam."
Ned pushed the cup back across the counter impatiently. He noticed
with distaste that a small fleck of foam had landed on his red silk
tie. He daubed it away and made a mental note to send the manager
his next cleaning bill.
The lean twentysomething in the green smock and baseball cap regarded
him with a blank stare. "So... you don't wannit?" He stroked the
soul-patch under his lower lip absently.
Ned rolled his eyes. Six thirty in the morning, he didn't need this
bullshit. He knew why all the other customers had gotten in the
other lines. He had to get the idiot.
"YES, I want it, but I want it with NO FOAM. Make it over, if you
don't MIND --" he leaned forward to read the 'Hi, I'm --' nametag
"--Jared. Would that be too much of a PROBLEM for you?"
Jared grinned, dumping the latte into the sink and tamping up the
ground espresso. "No problem here man. You got the problem."
Ned lifted his eyes from the Wall Street Journal. "Excuse me?" This
kid was SO fired.
"I said you got the problem. The addiction. All that caffeine's
making you hostile, man."
Ned looked at him incredulously. "Addiction? Aren't you supposed to
be selling this stuff? Didn't they teach you anything?"
"I'm just working here, doesn't mean I drink it. All I know is what
I see, man. You're tensed up. Hostile. All that caffeine, does a
lot of strange shit to your system, man. Drains off all the water in
your body, dude, your body's sposed to be 60% water and you get dried
out." He poured the espresso shots into a cup as he began steaming
the milk, speaking louder over the hiss of the machine. "Lot of
weird
interactions they don't tell you about 'cause they just want you to
drink more of it. FDA's not gonna tell you, they got enough
problems. Shrinks your nads man, that's not even the worst --"
"Just MAKE the goddamn LATTE" Ned snapped, flipping through the
Journal and pulling out his Palm Pilot. Meetings all goddamn
morning and he was waiting for his coffee to be brewed up by some
conspiracy-theory pothead.
"Okay man, there ya go." Jared slid a new cup toward Ned. "Put an
extra shot in it for ya. Give ya a real jolt."
Ned had the exact change ready -- he knew the amount, he was in here
three, four times a day -- and walked away to a table, Journal under
his arm, Palm Pilot in one hand, coffee in the other. Jared watched
him go, readjusting his cap, wiping scruffy blond bangs back from his
forehead.
"Enjoy it, dude," he chuckled.
Ned scanned the Journal for interesting news. The market was
volatile as usual -- this could be a great day for him, if he played
his cards right. He stood to make huge gains -- all it would take is
some careful planning, pulling out at the right second. He sipped
his
coffee, holding the cup carefully to minimize the risk to his seven
hundred dollar suit. The familiar buzz began to take hold as it did
every day -- well, the kid may have been a freak, but the extra shot
was a good idea. He needed it today.
Ned turned back to his Palm Pilot, flicking through menus, frowning
as he saw the wasteland of meetings that lay before him that morning.
He adjusted himself in his chair. He had to piss, but he could
probably wait till he got to the office. He had a thing about
unfamiliar restrooms -- one of his many "things." He squirmed again.
Damn, all of a sudden his bladder was feeling incredibly overfull.
He
needed to find the john, and NOW.
Ned felt sweat break out on his forehead as he looked around the
small shop. He'd been in here a million times and never used the
bathroom.
Where the fuck was it? He tried to hold back the mounting pressure,
worried that he might ruin his seven hundred dollar suit in full view
of all the customers. He finally spied the unisex restroom, and made
a dash for it just as a heavily pierced teenage girl was reaching for
the doorknob. He pushed her out of the way, ignoring her "fuck YOU
man", and slammed the door behind him. He fumbled frantically for
his zipper and belt, almost tearing the fabric in his frenzy. He
shoved his pants down, gripped his dick and aimed for the bowl, almost
crying with relief as he burst forth.
He let loose with a flood unlike anything he had experienced, not
even in his keg-party days. His body was spinning with sensation as
he felt the pressure continuing, the stream gushing out of him like a
firehose. He felt dizzy, his vision fogging -- he reached out a hand
to steady himself and could only feel smooth cold porcelain tile,
slippery and almost damp. The powerful flood seemed to be
diminishing, but the dizziness increased, and Ned felt himself
falling forward, disoriented, his vision distorted as though through a
fisheye lens. The bowl seemed to be rushing up at him -- if he was
falling, it seemed to be in slow motion. Electricity seemed to
crackle through his nerve endings. He flailed his arms, trying to
find his balance. He batted against what seemed like great swaths of
cloth, blocking his view, billowing up over his head. He stumbled,
slid, and fell, too dizzy to move, as his surroundings seemed to spin
around him.
------
"But I just saw somebody go IN there!"
"It's out of order, sorry." Jared mumbled, dropping a yellow
plastic "CAUTION WET FLOOR" marker outside the bathroom door. He
twisted the knob, and went in.
The electric-eye controlled toilet was now flushing itself. The
small room was empty except for a pile of expensive clothing heaped in
front of the bowl -- Italian shoes, wool suit, Egyptian cotton shirt,
silk tie. Jared surveyed the jumbled clothing, poking at the mound
with one black Reebok. There was a rustling, and a tiny figure
emerged from the tangle.
It was Ned. Naked. Two and a half inches tall.
"Awwwwwsome," Jared grinned, tugging at his earring. This was the
best one yet.
Ned walked unsteadily over the slippery surface. Where the fuck was
he? Where were his clothes? He blinked his eyes, seeing what looked
like a corrugated rubber wall in front of him. No -- no it wasn't
just a wall ... it was ... the sole of a sneaker... a HUGE sneaker.
Ned leaned backward, his mouth gaping open as he stared upward -- at
Jared, who grinned down at him, apparently almost two hundred feet
tall.
Ned felt a rush of vertigo like the time he saw that 3D Imax movie
with the helicopter ride. He almost fell backward again, all the
sensation draining out of his body. What the fuck... what kind of a
hallucination was this? He looked around. Towering behind him was a
massive white porcelain monument... the toilet! Shit! He was
standing in the pile of his own clothes, the closely woven threads
now looking as thick as ropes to him. He tried to breathe, but
felt
himself hyperventilating. He opened his mouth to yell, to scream,
but only managed a squeak.
"Calm down dude. Don't get hostile. Nobody needs that." Jared
leaned down and plucked the tiny man up between his thumb and
forefinger. Ned felt himself in a strong grip, and then almost
vomited as he felt himself being lifted up at great speed, the air
rushing by his naked body, his ears popping.
"Nice bod man. Least you get to the gym, looks like." Ned was
dangling in front of Jared's enormous face, his grin stretching for
what seemed like yards. Ned struggled, his now-tiny muscles
straining to break free of Jared's fingers.
"Uh uh uh, you don't wanna make me drop you, man," Jared chided.
"That's no good for either of us, bro."
Ned closed his eyes, not wanting to look down. He felt warmth
beneath his feet, and looked to find himself cradled in Jared's palm,
still close enough to his face to feel his warm, faintly sweet breath
puffing over him.
There was a banging on the door. "Come ONNN, who's IN there?" a
voice wailed.
Jared shrugged. "Looks we don't got time to play right now. But I
got to get back to work." Ned tensed, crouching down a bit, unsure
of Jared's next move.
Jared gently closed his fist around Ned's tiny perspiring body, and
moved him under his smock. Pulling his jeans away from his lithe
body, he dropped Ned into the gap between his waistband and his
stomach, feeling him fall down to his crotch, nestled between Jared's
soft cock and his nutsack. He was freeballing today, but that was
okay -- these jeans were tight enough to keep Ned snugly in place.
Ned felt his stomach flip-flop like the first drop of a rollercoaster
as he was dropped into the darkness of Jared's jeans. He came to
rest surrounded by soft, warm flesh, with a scent of soap and a
deeper muskiness all around him. He realized with disgust that he
was wedged between Jared's penis and his scrotum, held in place by
Jared's tight jeans. He felt the flesh surrounding him begin to push
against him as Jared moved. The air was hot and damp, and Ned turned
over and over, trying to find a secure hold. He squirmed and crawled
as best he could, trying to find a way out. He only found himself
being rubbed against the rough fabric of the jeans, which abraded him
like a tightly stretched twine net. He had no choice but to crawl
back to the safety of the space between Jared's gigantic cock and
balls. He tried to lay as still as possible after he realized that
when he moved, the huge shaft began to thicken and harden slightly.
He could feel Jared's pulse through it. He lay quiet, trying to
breathe, feeling sweat pour from his own body, and from Jared's shaft
and sack. He couldn't tell how much time was passing. Had he been
in here minutes? Hours? He sometimes had to grip onto a thick,
cable-like pubic hair to keep his place. Occasionally something
would press hard against him through the jeans, the sound of
something
scraping across the fabric loud in his ears.
"Jared, Jared, c'mere a second," the manager pulled him aside. "You
got lice or something? Stop scratching your crotch for godsakes."
"Sorry man, just a little horned up today is all."
"Well, get control of yourself. Or -- just, uh, take a break. Hit
the john. Take care of it. Sooner the better."
"Yesssir. Whatever you say."
Ned was getting woozy from lack of air. Jared's cock had been
continually growing harder, putting pressure on him, making it more
difficult to breathe in the cramped space. Suddenly, after a period
of more movement, there was a flood of light and air, Ned grabbing
for crotch hair to keep from falling as Jared's cock and balls were
released from confinement.
Ned dangled from a fistful of pubic hair, clambering up to the base
of Jared's shaft. He guessed that they were in the bathroom, seeing
the enormous blue door and the white tiles miles above him. Jared's
cock was now standing, a pillar that seemed to Ned to be twenty feet
high, and as thick as Ned was tall. Sticky precum was dripping down
as Jared wrapped his hand around his shaft, and began to stroke.
Ned thought that perhaps Jared had forgotten about him, but in the
next second, Jared's left hand grabbed onto Ned, pushing him against
Jared's gargantuan ballsack.
"Uhh... ohh YEAH..." Jared moaned, leaning back on the toilet, caught
up in the sensation of Ned's body struggling against his balls. He
loved to feel them squirm.
Outside, the manager heard a low moan coming through the door, and
turned up the CD player to mask the noise. Hard enough to get decent
people for this damn job, now he was having to give them jackoff
breaks.
Jared moved Ned slowly up to the base of his dick, and then began
moving him against the hot flesh of his swollen cock, sliding him up
and down against the sticky, hard shaft.
Ned felt himself on fire from the incredible amount of friction as he
was rushed upward and downward, held firmly against Jared's mammoth
prick. He realized with a shock that his own cock, one fortieth the
size of Jared's now, was harder than it had ever been, precum leaking
in tiny droplets to join the huge amounts of Jared's sticky fluid.
Jared groaned louder, his mouth dropping open, leaning further back,
his pants on the floor around his ankles. He rubbed Ned faster up
and down his cock, feeling himself getting closer and closer to
shooting.
Ned felt as though he might explode from the pressure and the
friction, giving himself over to a series of orgasms bursting forth
from his tiny cock one after the other, like machine gun fire. His
ribcage heaved as he gasped for breath, his entire body coated with
Jared's precum, his hair matted with it, his eyes stinging from it.
Jared pumped his cock furiously, clenching his jaw shut, holding his
breath, face turning red, abs tightening as suddenly he was over the
threshold, exploding, pumping strings of cum into the air,
splattering his neck, spotting his t-shirt, beads of cum clinging to
the tiny patch of beard, a slick thread swinging off his lip as he
panted, catching his breath.
Ned felt the muscles in Jared's cock pumping his load, seeing it
erupt high above him, like a geyser. The flow kept coming, gushing
down over Jared's cock, covering Ned in a warm, salty-sweet goo the
consistency of thick marshmallow topping. Ned choked, trying to
fight his way through the cascading cum for a breath of air,
swallowing several mouthfuls of Jared's jizz before he could again
breathe.
Jared slumped back, mindless of the stripes of cum now soaking into
his t-shirt. He breathed slowly, his lean abs rising and falling
with each breath.
Ned relaxed, spent from the mindblowing orgasms. It seemed like it
was over. Jared had his fun. Somehow he would be restored to size.
This would all seem like some wild, hallucinogenic dream.
There was a banging on the door. "Jared, whatever you're doing,
finish it up NOW, I've fucking HAD IT" the grating voice came
through. "I MEAN IT."
Jared leaned over, grabbing handfuls of paper towels and swiping at
the cum that was all over him from the neck down. "Ah, fuck it," he
said. "Close enough."
Ned felt himself suddenly encircled by Jared's hand again, being
lifted as Jared rose from the john. He was again dangled in front of
Jared's scruffy, grinning face.
"Well man, that was fun. Looks like you enjoyed it too, lookit the
little cum drops," Jared said, his whisper booming in Ned's ears.
"Wish we could play around more, but I gotta get back. Only got time
for dessert."
Before Ned could think what dessert might be, he found himself
swinging toward Jared's enormous grin, which opened up into a yawning
void. Ned found himself being flung through the air into that same
sweet breath, the light abruptly shutting off behind him as Jared
closed his mouth.
"It's about fucking TIME, jerkoff," the manager hissed as Jared
emerged from the bathroom, his shirt conspicuously damp in several
places. "What the fuck is your problem?"
Jared just shrugged, his mouth moving a bit as though he were sucking
on a particularly large jawbreaker.
"Well? Arentcha gonna say anything? Answer me!"
Jared gave a wide, close-mouthed grin, and shrugged again.
Ned was scrambling for a handhold, anything to grip onto, but the
walls of Jared's mouth were slippery with spit. Jared's pebbly
tongue flexed and pushed, guiding Ned further and further back,
trapping him against the roof of Jared's mouth and sliding him toward
the opening of Jared's throat. Ned could feel the skin changing from
the pliable sides of Jared's cheeks to the firmer flesh of his
throat, which began to widen and contract, pulling against him, saliva
flowing over the tongue, all the muscles urging him backward and
down.
He dug his hand in to the surface of Jared's tongue, grabbing on as
hard as he could, feeling his legs being pulled into Jared's throat,
dangling in the void.
"I said, Answer me, dammit!"
Jared just nodded, reaching for a cup of iced coffee. He raised it
to his lips, tilting his head back as he drank.
Ned felt his handhold slipping as a river of icy fluid began to
splash over him. In the same moment as he lost his grip and began to
fall backwards, he recognized the familiar scent.
Hazelnut.
Jared's adam's-apple bobbed as he gulped the iced coffee. Finally,
he finished, bringing his head forward, and wiping his mouth with a
satisfied smirk.
"So -- Jared," the manager sighed, "You got anything to say for
yourself?"
"Mmmm... good to the last drop."