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The Giant of Bright Tower Chapter 27
🕑 Added 2025-03-16 11:53:31 +0000 UTCI had only experienced laying on an inflatable mattress once before, when I was a teenager. It was a sleep-over with a friend from high school, a memory tinged with embarrassment. The inflatable mattress was an old model, a relic from an earlier era. As the pudgier kid, I was all too aware of my weight, and the moment I sprawled upon it, an ominous hiss signaled my downfall. I lay there, sinking in slow motion, as if being swallowed by quicksand, the fabric tightening its grip on my burgeoning body until my ass thudded against the floor. Too mortified to face my friend or risk further humiliation, I grabbed my blanket and retreated to the couch, leaving the deflated ruin behind, dreading the morning when I would have to face my crime.
Laying on Bubba now was comically similar but wondrously different. As the serum wore off, Bubba shrank beneath me but instead of collapsing , he became softer and more tender. A gentle release that molded lovingly to my shape, as if I were sinking into a cloud or a dream. Cradling me in a warm, all-encompassing embrace. It felt almost as if his enormous, rippling frame were pulling me closer as it shrank. His heated skin pulled and shifted in rhythm with his slow transformation, once mighty and swollen, now retreating back to the vast bulk that was his usual form. Bubba’s immense hand had touched my shoulder like an immense, feather-light blanket, and as it retreated, its strokes became shorter but no less loving. Still, he caressed me as I sank onto him, and his fingers no longer spanned my back but now their regular size that I had come to know well.
“This is…so cool,” I said, laying naked on my stomach on top of Bubba, my eyes locked into his. “It’s happening so slowly, yet quickly. I don’t want to blink and miss it.”
Bubba was grinning at me.”Glad you like the show.” His voice returning to it’s regular deep rumble. “Its quite a feeling.”
My finger rubbed against his chest, “What’s it feel like?”
Bubba looked up and gave it some thought, “Hmmm. Maybe a warm breeze all over my body, but it doesn’t make you itchy? Does that make sense?”
I nodded, “Kinda. It’s an experience unique to you. No one else can really confirm or deny. You may as well be describe a color no one else has ever seen.
Bubba nodded, then looked over me down at himself. “Feeling’s gone, I think I’m back to me.”
I looked around. Bubba was back to his regular size. I slid off one side and he rolled the other way. We both stood up and surveyed the damage. It looked like someone had splashed white paint all over me, Bubba, and a thirty foot radius surrounding us. We caught each others eye and burst out laughing.Once started, it was hard to stop. It echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls and vats.
Bubba caught his breath first, “I don’t suppose you brought a mop?”
I stopped to think, and had an idea. Minutes later, all our stuff was packed in the car and we stood naked in front of a utility box. I pressed worn out buttons on the side of an archaic control box, the little green screen flipping though pages at a painfully slow rate.My nose nearly touched the screen I was squinting so hard. “Finally,” I found the fire control system. “This is going to be something,” A couple more buttons and with a final press, I stepped back and looked up. There was a beat, and then with a mighty whoosh, the sprinklers turned on, saturating the room in a cascade of wetness. Water sprayed from every direction, drenching us within seconds. We were soaked through, our hair plastered, the jizz dripping from our bodies to join newly formed streams rushing towards the drains in the floor. The evidence of our visit gone in minutes.
Bubba blinked the water out of his eyes. “Good thinking boy.”
I grinned back at him. “Race you to the truck.”
Bubba tilted his head, gave me a teasing look, and then took off. He lumbered across the floor with the might of a bull and the energy of a kid with a sugar rush. His enthusiasm was infectious. I cut loose and sprinted behind him, laughing as I pushed myself. My junk flopped wildly against my hips as I tore through the room trying to catch up.
Across the mall, in a small security office lit only by the ghostly blue glow of the monitors, Marcus’s eyes were fixed and glued to a small separate TV screen. He was slouched back in the desk chair, the cigar wedged casually into the corner of his open mouth had gone out, ash dripping into his wild beard. Just out of sight over the arc of his gut, Bret was on his knees, focused on a different task that required just as much concentration. He was between Marcus massive thighs, slobbering over his junk with lusty enthusiasm as only those very new to the art of cock-sucking do. Bret had his own shirt still on, but pants and underwear lay tangled around his ankles. His hands were cuffed behind his back, leaving him in a precariously balanced position as he lavished attention on Marcus. The cuffs bit into Bret's wrists only slightly, and he almost seemed to enjoy the mild discomfort. A beefy hand rested absentmindedly on Bret’s head, following him as he bobbed up and down.
“Well now,” around the cigar, Marcus’s lips pulled back in a devilish grin, “Well, well, well.”
There was a small popping noise as Bret came up for air. “Did you say something sir?”
“I did. But it wasn’t the word stop, Bitch!” Marcus shoved Bret down on him and held him there until he felt him really start to struggle, then released. As Bret sputtered, Marcus returned his eyes to the little TV screen. The image was now simply a room with large tanks in it, but before it had been something truly incredible.
Marcus exhaled, “I guess I am small. But not for long.”
