Cuts of My Life (The Chronicles of Enhanced Males Book 2)

by Doc King

  I go out feeling even angrier than I did when I came in.

  - What happened? Are you all right? – asks Laura.

  - I’m fine. – I snap at her. – Call my team. Let them come right away.

  Once the workday is almost over, I decide to confirm my suspicions. I follow Bryan as he leaves from work; 10 seconds after he gets into the elevator, I follow him down. He goes to the garage. Down there, I keep a safe distance, making sure he doesn’t see me. He’s going through some papers along the way, making it easier for me.

  He stops next to a Kia Rio. I stop breathing. That’s it. That could be the car from last night. However, a couple of seconds later, Bryan keeps walking. After a few steps, he unlocks a black Lexus with his emote. He goes in and drives off. My heart skips a beat. It wasn’t Bryan last night. Who, then?

  I spend the next few days trying to avoid him. He makes it easier by staying away himself. I work on the project, but I’ve lost my focus. The team does most of the work and I’m rather absent-minded. What I do notice is that most of the women at work are looking at me differently. They mostly do it with a smile and some kind of a smoky look. Is it desire in their eyes, perhaps?

  Laura resolves the mystery.

  - How’s it going with Christine?

  - What?

  - I’m asking how’s it going between you two? You went out on a date?

  - How do you know that we…

  - You know Christine. She’s been telling everyone. And praising you, I must say. Especially your immense qualities.

  I blush. I know what Laura’s aiming at. And she’s saying it tauntingly, so I don’t know if she’s mad because of the way I was treating her and everyone else this week, or because she’s jealous that I fucked Christine.

  Christine did her part and boosted my reputation. But my current mood makes that seem rather irrelevant. Especially because Laura is getting more and more distant every day. To tell you the truth, I miss the casual flirting with her. Maybe this thing with Christine wasn’t such a good idea.

  True, she doesn’t make such a big deal out of what happened. She’s asked me a couple of times if I wanted to go out, but I successfully avoided it every time, by coming up with various excuses. Christine is a clever girl. She’s not asking me out anymore. The reputation of a big dick will go hand in hand with the title of an asshole, but I’m ready to make that sacrifice.

  Christine didn't start rumor about Mark's size tho. It was Cathy Lutz and her unknown friend from the bathroom. Would they two be impressed if Mark shows them his real size? Find out in the Author's Cut of this episode.

  Download it at: http://enhancedmales.com

  The current situation is helping me focus on myself completely. After work, I mostly spend my time at home, eating healthy food and exercising. A positive mindset is really important for all this, so I have to avoid stress. I decide to expand the standard set by including more girth and length exercises. The exercise that’s good for both is called Corkscrew stretches. It is recommended for advanced users, so it’s essential that you are well familiar with the basic exercises and methods before you start doing this exercise.

  I usually do it in the middle of the set, so I’m pretty much warmed up by the time I move on to it. I do a couple more warm ups, just in case, because stretching can always result in a broken capillary or irritated skin. You can warm it up with warm water, like I said before, but there is a faster and easier way to do it, with the help of a rice sock. You pour rice into an ordinary cotton sock. You tie the sock tight and put it in a microwave for a minute. After that, you warm up your penis for about 5 minutes, making sure you don’t get burnt.

  For Corkscrew stretches you need your penis to be completely flaccid and warm. You grab it with your dominant hand, from above, so that you’re looking at the top of your hand. You twist your penis by using your thumb and forefinger and rotate it 180 degrees, so that the back side of your glans, popularly known as the banjo string, is facing the ceiling. Your penis should now resemble a corkscrew, hence the name of the exercise.

  Once it’s twisted like that, you should stretch it outwards as much as you can, without feeling pain, but just the maximum stretch. Hold it like that for ten seconds.

  Release it for a few seconds. Then do the rep again: grab, twist, stretch.

  Corkscrew stretches are pretty intense, so you shouldn’t do it like, say, jelqing. It’s best if you do it somewhere in the middle of the workout, and do no more than 5 ten-second reps.

  For example, I usually do them at the end of the first round, after the standard stretching and jelqing exercises, and before the slapping, and once again towards the end of the workout, before the warm down and Kegels. This way you will avoid burnout and pushing it too far. However, I’m already in the phase where I do the 360 degrees rotations, but you should start with the 180 until you gain more experience.

  This exercise will increase the volume of the penis, because it improves the blood flow, but that requires time. Don’t expect ‘a twist’ (no pun intended) overnight.

  I finish the session with edging. I’m thinking about Christine, but I can’t visualize her face. I see a combination of her and Valerie. But her face isn’t clear in my mind either, although I’ve seen it so many times and knew every feature and detail. I let my imagination guide me as I slide my and across my penis.

  But it takes me too far and pushes me over the edge. I lose control and cum. I’m angry with myself. I have ruined such an ideal session because I can’t control myself. That’s another thing I’ll have to work on.

  After that, I take a shower and go downstairs.

  These past few nights, or ever since the break-in incident, to be exact, I haven’t been sleeping in my bedroom, but on the couch in the living room. That’s why, every morning, I wake up with a stiff back and feeling like crap. I’m acting like a child. What am I afraid of? I decide to paint over the writing on the wall tomorrow and sleep like a normal person again.

  ***

  At some point during the night, the bright lights pointed straight into my eyes wake me up again. The headlights are flashing through the large glass. The high beam pushes the shadows across the room, while the low beam draws them back. I jump up. As soon as I show up at the door, the same car vanishes down the street with tires squealing. I’m tempted to shout at it, but I’d wake up the neighbors. Should I call the police? They can’t help me. Not until something happens.

  Once again I stay awake until the morning. I’m lost and distracted at work. I’m drinking my third coffee and my heart is beginning to flutter. I pick up the phone

  - Hey, Angela. I wanted to ask you if I could leave early today. I’m not feeling well. I don’t know, some kind of virus, I guess. Ok, I will. Thank you.

  I give Laura the instructions and drag myself to the elevator, looking like a ghost. With all the noise in the street, I feel like my head is about to explode. The hum of the engines, the sirens, the people talking. I normally enjoy these sounds, but not today. I decide to break the promise I’ve made to myself and go out for some beer and sausages. Just today.

  I walk slowly towards the East Village and notice a blue Chevy driving past me several times. I subconsciously think that I’ve seen it parked across the street from ThinkBean. It’s a hatchback. Is it possible that it’s that car? Is someone following me? I make a turn on the 15th Street and continue walking down the 2nd Avenue. Here it goes again. Coming my way. The glasses are tinted, so I can’t see who’s driving. I look back. It makes a right on the 1st Avenue. Knows where I’m headed. I speed up and make a turn on the 9th Street. Many people are walking down the avenue so I hide at the corner. I see the car parked in an alley, less than a 1000 ft. away. I run back down the street, so I could approach him from behind. I just hope he won’t get away. I find a passage and cut through the 10th. The car’s still there. And she’s standing next to it. I do remember her face after all. Alice.

  I run towards her. She sees me. She tries to get away, b
ut it’s too late. I drag her out of the car and grab her shoulders as two passers-by stare at me.

  - You fucking lunatic, what do you think you’re doing?!

  - Let me go…

  - Do you want me to call the police and tell them about the break-in? Huh?!

  - No... – she starts sobbing.

  - How do you know where I live?

  Tears come sliding down her face as the only response.

  - Tell me!

  - I looked for you at work… you’ve told me where you work… I thought that… I’d find you there. Your colleague gave me your address. Please, I didn’t…

  - Which colleague?

  - Handsome, tall, blond…

  - Bryan?

  - Yeah, that’s his name.

  - Fucking son of a… And you… How did you get in? Anyway, I don’t care. Call me once again or show up in front of my house and I’ll kill you!

  The number of passers-by has doubled in the meantime, which doubles the number of ears that have heard this threat. But I’m so angry I don’t even care. I give up on the meal and catch a cab.

  - ThinkBean. – I tell the driver.

  I find Bryan in front of the office. He’s casually chatting with the former members of my team. His expression changes once he sees me coming closer, red with fury. But his face soon changes back to a sheer. The other three look down and step away.

  - Mark... – says Bryan in a cheerful tone.

  - Why did you give her my address?

  - To whom? – he’s playing dumb. – Oh? The lovely girl that came asking for you. That’s not nice of you, avoiding her and not answering her calls. Neither i…

  I don’t let him finish. My fist is aimed at the root of his nose. But he’s quicker. He dodges it, and instead of making blood gush out of his nose, my hand just brushes against his cheekbone. Enough to be interpreted as an assault. Someone grabs me from the back. I try to break loose, but these hands are pulling me away from Bryan. He’s surprised at first, but then he smiles again, which makes me want to puke.

  Half an hour later, I’m at Angela’s office. Alone. Thoughts rushing through my head. I know that what I did was stupid. I don’t feel relieved at all. Even if I was to stomp Bryan, there would be no catharsis. In the end, I’m the only loser.

  Angela walks in. She gives me brief look. She’s deadly serious. She sits across from me, looking at the papers on the desk, and then looks at me again.

  - I don’t know what the hell is happening, Mark.

  - Angela, I’m so sorry about this. I can explain…

  - I don’t think I want to know. This mess you’ve got yourself into, it’s obvious that you’re going to have to untangle it on your own. The good news is that Bryan is not pressing charges.

  She sighs.

  - The bad news is that this incident hasn’t gone unnoticed. The board insisted that we fire you because what you did violates the politics and poses a threat to the image of the company. I managed to convince them to send you on a two-week leave. Unpaid. We’ll see what happens next.

  - Angela...

  - What the hell were you thinking? You have the most composure of all the employees. I thought that not an earthquake could shake you. And then you lose it.

  - I really am sorry.

  - Whatever it is between you and Bryan, it must not stand in the way of the company’s progress. Maybe one day you’ll tell me what it is, but not now. Now go home and pull yourself together. Have your team take over your duties. Have you talked to Greg?

  - I haven’t, not in a while. He’s gone on a trip.

  - Good. Tell him nothing this time.

  Laura is waiting for me in front of the office with a concerned expression on her face.

  - Mark... I know what happened. Why?

  - I’m sorry. It’s complicated… I’m not in the mood.

  - You haven’t been in a while. You’ve changed, Mark. Are you doing drugs? Owe money to a loan shark?

  - No… God, no. Listen, once this whole mess is over, I’ll take you out for a beer and tell you everything.

  I call my crew and arrange everything. Then I pick up my stuff from my office and head towards the elevator.

  - If someone asks for me, I’m on a leave. – I tell Laura.

  - Mark…

  I turn around.

  - Take care.

  I nod and leave the building.

  ***

  At home, it’s all the same. I wake up at 8. Get up on the same side of the bed. Watch TV and overeat. I’m knee-deep in monotony and melancholy. Luckily, I find a liquor cabinet, long forgotten, like some kind of a gold mine. The healing powers of whiskey, the glow of Finnish vodka, an excellent selection of wine, from 2006 until today, the blessed touch of the tequila… It all slides down my throat and into my liver, bringing me an ounce of relief.

  Mark is on the edge, desperately looking to improve things. But most of his attempts fail flat. His life shatters in front of his eyes and there's not much he can do about it. Except for following the paths that leads him to temporary and easy relief. But, embarking on such voyage is often filled with weird and risky encounters and relationships. What would do Mark do to get a relief he desperately needs? Who would he meet? Find out in Author's Cut.

  Download it at: http://enhancedmales.com

  I douse my hangover in more alcohol, and soon, I start spending my days in boxers and bathrobe. I don’t change my outfit, not even the day I run out of my liquid treasure and go to the nearby liquor store to replenish my supplies.

  On my way back, I run into Maggie. The expression on her face when she sees me unshaved and ruffled, wearing a bathrobe in the middle of the street, with bags full of liquor in my hands, brings me back to reality. What the hell am I doing? I can’t remember the last time I felt this embarrassed.

  - Mark?

  I walk past her without saying a word and lock myself up inside the house.

  No. You’re not going to destroy yourself, Mark. Have you forgotten about the plan? The discipline? Are you a Spartan or a fucking wus who gives up as soon as he runs into an obstacle?

  The 200 dollars I’ve just spent end up flushed down the toilet. I need to exercise. Now.

  I skip the warm up and the Kegels, I haven’t got time for that. I go straight to the stretches, but decide to do V stretches instead of the regular ones, so I’m as quick and efficient as possible, in order to make up for what I’ve missed. And there’s no better exercise for stretching every section than the V stretches.

  For this exercise, the penis shouldn’t be completely flaccid. You need it to be about 20% erect. I open my left hand and keep my thumb at 90 degrees to the rest of the fingers. The palm should be facing down, so that your thumb is pointing to the right and forming an L with the other fingers. I use this hand as support.

  I make an OK sign with the other, using my thumb and forefinger, and put it around the penis, just below the glans. I squeeze tight and stretch my penis forward.

  As I stretch my penis, I put the other hand in the shape of an L around the base and press the thumb towards the forefinger, to ensure a good grip.

  Using my right hand, I stretch the upper half of the penis across the left thumb, towards the stomach. At the same time, I push penis down with my left thumb, creating resistance.

  I hold it like this for five seconds, stretching it up with my right hand, and pushing it down with my left thumb. The penis looks like the letter V, hence the name of the exercise.

  This exercise is good for other sections of the penis as well. In the next rep, I move my left thumb up, towards the middle of the penis, and in the next I move it all the way up to my right hand, below the glans.

  V stretches are intense, so it’s best to distribute them evenly during the routine, into a few five-second reps. It’s also important that you’re well prepared and warmed up.

  During the fourth rep, as I push my thumb down, I feel excruciating pain in my lower abdomen, making me roar. Fuck. I kneel onto the
floor. The middle part of the pubic bone and the base of the penis hurt when I touch them. As if someone has hit me in the crotch with their knee. I try to get up, but I just growl with pain once again and go back down.

  After a few minutes, I manage to drag myself to the fridge. I pack ice cubes in a bag and go limping to the couch, where I lie down and put the ice over my boxers, onto the injury.

  I think about how stupid I’ve been. The only thing worse than not exercising is exercising without warming up and preparing first, risking a nasty injury.

  This half-cocked decision makes me unable to work out for the next two days. So I sink back into melancholy and monotony.

  One morning, the phone rouses me from my lethargy. I have no plans of picking it up. But someone really wants to talk to me.

  - Hello?

  - Mark? I was starting to look for your picture in the obituaries.

  - Greg?

  - It’s me. The people at your firm told me that you were sick. I called you on your cell, but I couldn’t reach you.

  I look at the phone on the table. It’s been off for a few days.

  - Yeah... um... There’s been a lot going on. They told you I was sick?

  - Yeah. Why? Is everything all right, Mark?

  - It is... it’s just…

  - Listen. Let’s meet for dinner. You and me. Tonight?