The Giant of Bright Tower, Chapter 19

“You’re moping, boy.”

“I am not moping.” I muffled; my face buried in my arms on the desk.

“Yes you are.” Bubba repeated.

“No, I’m not.  I am calmly thinking over the events of what transpired today, and what improvements I will need-“

“Mmmmooooopiiiiiiiiing”

I pushed myself up. “Well, what do you want me to do? My goal was to make you 50 feet tall not 50 feet…” I waved my hands in front of my groin and sat back down as Bubba chuckled.

“I-I have to redo everything.” I stood up and moved to drag an old whiteboard out from a corner. I grabbed the eraser and started cleaning away formulas, “I have to get back to basics, dive into human anatomy and find out what it is in penial tissue that made it so responsive to-“

Bubba’s hand covered mine, pressing it to the whiteboard and holding it there. “Whoa there, hold your horses boy.” His other hand clapped down on my shoulder. “We’ve both had a big day,” he sniggered, “And you are doing none of that shit tonight.” Bubba put both his enormous hands on my shoulders, and steered me to the living room. I was powerless to resist and plopped heavily down on the couch as Bubba loomed over me. I made to get back up, but a gentle tap from Bubba forced me right back down again.

“Fine.” I folded my arms, “So what the hell are we suppose to do this evening?”

Bubba’s goatee turned upward with his grin.

-

The shotglass looked exceptionally small in Bubba’s enormous hand as he raised it and tossed it down his throat.

“Yeeeeehaw.” I barely heard Bubba over the loud thumping bass that I could feel in my bones, “That hit the spot.”

“Hasn’t enough liquid been inside you today?” I shouted up at him. Bubba gave me an eyeful. Thinking about what I just said, I smiled and smacked him playfully on his arm.

Bromans was packed for a Saturday night. At first, I was apprehensive that this would be what I needed, as I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve been in a club. But Bubba strolled through the crowd, parting our way to the bar like a freight ship through the ocean, and two cocktails and three shots were really helping me relax after the fiasco of the day.

“C’mon boy. Keep up.” Bubba elbowed me, hard enough I had to take a step to the side. I swirled the liquid around in the glass in my hand. I gave Bubba a look.

“And you promise you’ll stop me before I puke, right?”

“Sure, sure.” Bubba waved his hand, “ now bottoms up.”

I tipped it back and tossed the shot down my own throat. “Gahhhhh,” I felt it burn for a few seconds, “That stings.” As I shook my head, I took another look around the club. One of only two gay bars in town, this one was for the gays who didn’t wear expensive skinny jeans. Men of all shapes and sizes wearing various amounts of clothing were drinking and dancing in flashing light to deafening music. The faintest whiff of cologne worn by only a handful of patrons was overpowered by the stench of men, sweat, and smoke. Wearing a nice but simple shirt and slacks, I could feel eyes look me up and down and keep going. Since I wasn’t cruising, this suited me just fine and I could feel myself start to relax and enjoy the partying atmosphere. That or the alcohol was kicking in hard and doing the relaxing.

“How ya feelin’ boy?” Bubba checked in

I blinked and realized I was leaning my back pretty heavily against the bar. Pushing myself up, I found I could stand. “I’m doin’ A-Okay, Daddy O.”

Bubba chuckled, and waved the bartender over. A muscled guy with some cash stuffed into his jock strap walked over.

“This pup’s gonna need water,” he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder, causing me to grab onto the bar to stay upright.

“No no no, I’m fine,” I said, waving my hand, “I’m great, I’m great.” A bottle of water appeared in front of Bubba and he slid it in my direction. I picked it up and downed it in one, not realized how thirsty I’d been.

“Let’s dance, Whoooooo.” I turned and started twisting and turning in place. I turned my back to Bubba, bent over and started twerking. Or rather, just moving my butt side to side. Bubba laughed again, and slapped me hard on the ass.

“Mmpf” I rubbed my butt, “Not so hard, Daddy. You know I’m delicate.”

“This is adorable. I should have taken you here months ago,” Bubba said, shaking his head as he watched me.

“Oh,” I felt nature call, “Gotta pee.” I turned and wandered through the dancing bodies towards the mens room. Pushing open the doors, I found a urinal and whipped out my guy and sighed. The pressure disappearing, I heard a thumping noise that wasn’t the music. I looked over, and down the row of stalls, the door to the handicapped one at the end seemed to be thumping in regular intervals.

Oh for Gods’ sake, boys will be boys. I shook my head, did a couple shakes, and headed to the sinks. The first two weren’t working, so I moved down to one that did, putting me closer to the party stall. As I lathered up, the lock on the stall door gave out and a thump swung it wide open, revealing everything in the mirror.

The enormous man inside was standing sideways, so I had a view of thick, pale legs moving back and forth into a smaller pair of legs whose torso was just out of sight; both legs disappearing into crumpled jeans, belts, and underwear. His dark hair was kept back in a low ponytail, the wild beard that covered his faced tamed by two braids that ended in small silver clasps. A worn-out black leather vest was only outdone by the old black t-shirt underneath, its logo made indiscernible from use or, unlikely, multiple washings. The upper t-shirt revealed thick arms, one of which was reaching forward to hold onto something, while the lower part ended halfway on the mans round gut which jutted out and actually rested on the lower back of the little guy, who’s legs were hopefully strong enough to carry it.

The mans free hand reached up and caressed his belly to his chest, ending to play with his nipples through his shirt. He turned and saw me looking at him in the reflection.

“Hey kid, likin’ what you see.” He kept looking at me while he moved both hands to the other guys hip, and proceeded to thrust harder and faster, the guy’s moans audible above the din from outside.

I looked directly at him in the mirror. It had to be all the alcohol I had consumed because the words that came out of my mouth were, “Sorry, you’re too small.” The shock crossed his face before I went back to drying my hands. Using the paper towels to grasp the doorhandle, I ventured once more into the thumping club and danced my way through the club back to Bubba.

“Everything come out okay?” Bubba asked, tossing back another shot and sliding me another bottle of water.

“Yes-sir-re,” I twisted the top and took another sip. “There were a couple guys screwing in the bathroom stall.”

Bubba grinned, “Boys will be boys.”

I slapped his arm, “That’s what I thought! Great minds think alike.” I grinned up at him.

Bubba looked at me, then reached over and gently pressed me in the chest. I stumbled back just a little, grasping onto the bar hard.

“And I think you are done for the night, boy.”

“No, no, I’m fine. We can stay, I wanna dance,” I started shaking my body, completely off beat with the music.

“You can dance in your seat on the way home.” He took my hands and pressed them flat into the bar, “I’m gonna pay our tab, you are going to keep your hands right here until I get back. Can you do that?”

“Is that an order, sir?”

“Yes, boy, that’s an order.”

“Alrighty then.”

“Good boy,” Bubba touched my shoulder before wandering down the bar.

I kept my hands on the bar, but found I could still move my butt from side to side, so I did. I stared up at all the bottles of alcohol; their different shapes and colors beautiful in my current state of mind. I looked past them into the mirror on the wall behind them, watching the crowd pulse and throb in the flashing lights. One blob seemed to be growing in the crowd, getting larger and larger. Suddenly, the blob became the guy from the bathroom stall, and his face appeared over mine in the mirror.

His belly pressed me hard into the counter, pushing the air from my lungs. “What’s up, little fucker? Am I big enough for you now?” He pressed in harder, and I could feel my drinks threatening to come back up through my mouth. I struggled to breath.

“Yeah, that’s it, squirm.” I could feel him chuckle. “ I like my boys squirming, trapped beneath me,” he was reaching forward, “you shouldn’t have called me small, little boy. I’m anything but small.” I felt his hands behind me reaching low under his belly. He hoisted it up to squash more of it against me. “Feel all that, nothin’ you can do against me.” He took another step forward.

I was really struggling to breath now, but suddenly the pressure vanished. My knees went and I collapsed to the floor. Coughing, I could feel a hand wrap around my entire arm and lift me to my feet. I turned, and in the flashing lights, Bubba had a look of rage on his face I had never seen before. The look was directed at the guy on the floor, who was staring back up at Bubba with a look of murderous envy.

The dancers around us saw what had happened and were gathered in a small crown to watch. Bubba took a step forward and placed one of his enormous boots right on his crotch. The man’s eyebrows raised just a little to say ‘you wouldn’t dare’. Bubba grinned, and by the flashing light I could see him softly shift his weight. Now his face showed panic and fear, and he reached around his belly to grasp Bubba’s foot and attempted to push it off. Bubba responded with a quick tap, to which the mans alarmed gasp was lost in the music. He looked up at Bubba, who gestured with his hands what he wanted him to do. The look of murder returned, though it was strained this time, and he slowly moved his arms back and out, away from the foot.

“What’s your name, boy?” Bubba spoke.

He was quiet for a while. Bubba twisted his boot, and he spoke out above the music, “Marcus.”

“Well Marcus, or should we call you ‘mini Marcus.” He smiled down at the look of rage that was boiling under his foot, “I think you should take a break from Bromans for a while, let’s say two months?”

“Fuck y-“

“Three months,” Bubba pressed down hard and cut off Marcus with a gasp.

“Thr-Three months,” Marcus wheezed out.

“That’s a good boy.” Bubba took his time removing his boot. “And you’re gonna stay down there for another minute while we leave, or I’m coming back and stepping on you with both feet. Got it?”

Marcus nodded.

“Good boy. See ya later mini Marcus. “ Bubba placed his arm around my shoulder and guided me through the dancing crowd.