The Chronicles of Enhanced Males Part 1: Living Enlarged

by Doc King

  I hang up.

  Alice calls again.

  -Fucking shit.

  They don’t say it for nothing: Don’t stick your dick in crazy.

  I put my phone on mute and go upstairs.

  I’ve already told you about jelqing. And how only one of the numerous techniques has helped me make my penis bigger and be the Mark I am today. Irresistible and successful.

  Another important technique is called edging and it’s also quite simple. All you have to do is masturbate, but not cum. And do that several times. You choke the monkey and always stop before you kill it. Why am I mentioning this technique now? That’s because it’s best to do edging before you go to sleep. That’s when it has the best effect on the tissue and penis growth.

  I apply the lube and begin. Alice from last night was supposed to by my inspiration for an erection, but after these calls, I’m not sure that would be stimulating.

  Once again, my mind has conjured up Valerie. My ex.

  No woman I’ve ever been with has had such warm skin like hers. It must be the Creole blood in her veins. The dark, wavy hair. The yellow-brown eyes. The color of the muddy Mississippi, like she used to say with a smile. Full lips and big teeth. Not too beautiful. But enchanting. And my God, was she full of life!

  She would break you and make you all over again, make you better, each time keeping one piece of you for herself. It’s both her virtue and her flaw, always keeping you in the palm of her hand, but I’ve been trying to fill that void ever since. I have always felt incomplete without her. Without that smile and that passion. I can see the scenes of our life together unroll before my eyes.

  One night, we went to a bar so we could listen to some African jazz. She wore an airy dress and no panties. Which I found out only later. After we’d started dancing. She took my hand and put it under her dress. She felt soft and wet under my fingers. I slid down slowly, while my head was buzzing with excitement. I put my thumb on the clit, and let the rest of the fingers slide across her vulva. The middle and the ring finger slide in. It’s warm. I can hear Valerie moan softly to the music.

  I’m in my bathroom. Breathing heavily. I stop and start thinking about something else so I wouldn’t cum. Ok. I’m calm and I can continue masturbating.

  Valerie removes my hand from under her dress. She turns her back to me and rubs against me. I put my hand between her legs, this time, over the dress. The orchestra is playing something upbeat, but we sway slowly, to our own rhythm. The faint light casts beams through her dress and I can see her perfect round ass, the one Valerie is now rubbing against my crotch and thighs. I don’t know if anyone’s watching. We see no one. Like in some primitive ritual, we touch slowly, ready to become one with the stars.

  I stop again. I’m just about to cum. I think I should maybe stop edging, but I decide to do one more round. I’ll be careful not to slip.

  Valerie drags me into the toilet. She pulls her dress down from her breasts and rides me. I grab her ass tight as she impales herself on my cock, moaning loudly. I don’t know if they can hear us. As if it matters. I suck her nipples. Bite me, she screams, bite. She turns her back to me and lays her hands onto the slippery floor. Her sweaty heart-shaped ass is pounding harder and harder against me, with clapping and moaning getting louder and louder.

  I cum like a volcano. Fuck it. I’ve made quite a mess in the bathroom.

  That’s the problem with edging. No matter how experienced you are, you need to know when to stop.

  I clean the bathroom, take a shower, and go to sleep. Alone.

  ***

  In the morning, Laura brings me my coffee and I ask her to tell Rob to come and see me. Rob is a bit awkward guy, clumsy, quiet, stuttering, socially challenged, as one might say, but he’s a genius when it comes to design.

  As if he has the ability to take an idea or wish out of your head and shape it into a final result that always knocks you off your feet. Here he is, coming through the door with a folder in his hands. When he walks into a room, he never opens the door all the way, but just cracks it open and slides in. As if he’s late for a class.

  - Hey, Rob, man. I need a portion of mind blowing. What have you got for me?

  - Hey. – he smiles shyly and hands me the folder. – Here, I scribbled something up.

  He made five “scribbles”. I look at them carefully, and then back at him.

  - You put me in a difficult position, Robby boy.

  His facial expression changes, from ”I’m uncomfortable” to a melted-face, what-have-I-done-wrong smile.

  - How can I pick just one, when I can’t decide which one is more perfect than the others? – I take the load of suspense off his chest, after he had probably thought of a thousand things he might have done wrong.

  A smile shyly crawls back onto his face.

  - Seriously, how do you pull this off? It’s amazing. As usual.

  - Thanks, Mark.

  - The only thing left to do is adjust the design to all the colors used by the MLB teams.

  - Already done. All five designs fit. I chose neutral fonts. I came up with one myself. This one here. – he points at one of the papers.

  - Robby... – I stand up and squeeze his upper arms. – You’re a genius. I’m not sure you get that a lot, but… Well done.

  - Thank you. – he looks down.

  - Now Mr. Kolba just has to decide which version to go with, and that’s it.

  I pat Rob on the back as he walks out of the office the same way he walked in.

  Kolba shows up at the office at 10 to 12, in a sand-colored Pal Zileri suit. He stops and shakes hands with Angela. From where I’m sitting, they look like a great couple. He spots me and waves, and then crosses the hall in a few giant steps and stands in front of me, smiling broadly all the while. He greets Laura politely and turns to me.

  - Hello, Mark.

  - Greg.

  - And?

  - Let’s go inside.

  Again, he doesn’t want anything to drink. I hand him the folder. He looks at the designs. Raises his eyebrow. Shakes his head.

  - You’re not satisfied?

  He looks at me.

  - Stop being so courteous. I feel like a grandpa around you.

  I’m shocked. He bursts into laughter.

  - Oh, I wish you could see your face.

  My face goes sour.

  - No, I’m not satisfied. I’m fucking ecstatic, pardon my French. I wonder how I’d never thought of something this simple, yet effective.

  - Well...

  - Just don’t tell me that’s the reason I came to you.

  Wow. Touché. The tables have turned.

  - Relax, Mark. I’m already bought. Your yesterday’s speech opened my eyes. I realized you’re the right man for this campaign, because, in less than an hour, you presented a great vision of this product. But, you see, it’s not the money. Although it’s not bad to have it, so you can afford various pleasures in life. What bought me are not the millions you mentioned, but the fact that this idea can help me do something I never managed as a player.

  I’m still quiet. This is one of those moments when you don’t interrupt a person.

  - And look at this. Fucking amazing. One word that describes what I could’ve been. What I will be. With your help.

  - And the designs... – I stutter.

  - Oh, they’re all great. I can’t decide which one is the best. I’ll leave that to you.

  - So, Streak?

  - Hell yes. And now, your lovely assistant can get us something to drink so we can toast to our agreement.

  I didn’t expect Kolba to be like this. He always seemed to have that kind of gentlemanly posture. A bit stiff, but charming. Like an Englishman. I love this change. We drink scotch and talk about all sorts of things. I am as happy as he is about our agreement. He talks about a lot of stuff. I’ve always thought of him as a family man. But he hasn’t been a family man for a while now. He’s been living a bachelor’s life, so to speak.

  - Lis
ten, Greg, we should go out for a drink sometime.

  - With pleasure, Mark.

  - Maybe we could go to the pub tomorrow, and then later to some club?

  - Wait. You’re not gay, are you? Because I don’t swing that way. If I gave you the impression that…

  - No, no! God, no! Nothing like that. I meant that we should go out as buddies. Grab a few drinks and charm the ladies.

  - That I can do. – he smiles with relief.

  - Tomorrow then?

  - No, tomorrow’s no good for me. I have… - he finishes his sentence by waving his hand. – But I’m free on Thursday. If that’s ok with you?

  - Sure, I’ll call you.

  We shake hands at the door. Even more cordially than yesterday.

  - Will there be another date? – asks Laura, once Kolba is at a safe distance.

  - Oh, yeah. Thursday night is party night. Boys’ night out.

  - Well, of course, you go out for drinks with everyone except me.

  - He’s a client. We’ll spend most of the time talking about boring subjects and we’ll spend the rest dousing them in liquor.

  - Yeah, right.

  I turn around to get in, but then I get a ticklish feeling in my head.

  - Actually, you know what? You and me, today, after work.

  - Really? Oh, gosh, but I’m not dolled up.

  - Doesn’t matter. I’m taking you to my favorite place. It’s really casual.

  - What about tonight, huh?

  - Evening dates are not a good idea.

  - And why is that? – when she smiles like that, there isn’t a man in the world who wouldn’t do anything she wants.

  - You’re way too smart for an explanation.

  She bites her lip and blushes, and I walk into my office so she doesn’t notice how excited I am.

  Oh, fuck, Mark, are you sure you know what you’re doing?

  I am; we’re just going out for a sausage and some beer.

  Well, exactly, the sausage part is the problem.

  Nothing’s going to happen.

  Try explaining than to the gentleman down there. I think he’s awake. Tell him.

  Oh, shit. Nothing’s going to happen.

  You gave her hope. You are hoping. When everything goes to hell, then you’ll remember my words.

  ***

  I’m trying not to think about the unexpected date with Laura. I’m working on Greg’s campaign. I’ve already sent Angela the preliminary report. She’s ecstatic. I tell the legal team to run all necessary checks and prepare the contracts. Between Greg and us, Greg and the teams, Greg and the league. Then I ask Rob to choose the logo he finds to be the best. Poor Rob, he won’t be able to do anything else all day, now that he’s faced with an unsolvable problem. Decisions are tough.

  - Hey, Rob.

  - Yes, Mark.

  - Go with the one with your font. It’s the most dominant one.

  - Oh, thank... I mean, ok, I will, Mark. Yes, it is, I agree. It’s the best.

  There. Checked that off the list. Now I can focus on the pile of stuff I need to handle. Check e-mails, set everything up for the PR team, then I flip through my notebook, look for some influential acquaintances who could help me deal with the stubborn team managements. I contact them. But every now and then, my gaze slides back to the watch. Every five minutes, actually. At some point, I get up and go to the men’s room. Laura is working. She looks at me. We smile awkwardly. Oh, God. We look like kids in love, going out together for the first time.

  Since the mishap with the door, I use the urinal. I’m just about to let it flow, when I hear the well-familiar, irritating voice of Matt Dobkins.

  - Oh, finally using the men’s room like a real man.

  I don’t respond. I finish my business, shake it off, and throw Matt a quarter as I pass by.

  - Here, the piss tax. – you fucker, I think to myself. – I didn’t know you were promoted to a new section.

  Matt is dumbstruck. Good, he’ll leave me alone for a while. At least until his brain processes what I just said.

  You might think it’s not a good idea to mess with men who act like gossipy, vengeful bitches. You’re right. Matt won’t forget about this. He’ll make sure he gets even. We haven’t so far got into a conflict so bad to make him show just how far he’s ready to go. But it will sure as hell be nasty. However, I’m not afraid. I’ve met far worst bastards than Matt before.

  Bryan Aldridge, for example. Son of a bitch. In college, he used to make my life miserable on daily basis. I was never the guy who stood out from the crowd. I kept my head low, went to classes, the cafeteria, and back to my room. Just an ordinary guy. But Bryan’s sadistic radar caught me anyway, and didn’t let go until the last day of my studies. He made sure every single detail of my life was miserable.

  Here’s the catch. He worked hard to become friends with me. Really good, inseparable friends. And then, after a few months, the mask fell off and he began ruining my life, by telling everyone the most intimate details about my life, often lying, getting me warned, punished, beaten up, making me the object of ridicule and contempt in the eyes of the girls I’d meet. Of course, he told everyone how small by dick was. He did it together with MaryAnn. The little blond chick I was in love with, which Bryan knew. I found out later that Bryan was banging her at the time, which made my infatuation with MaryAnn a nice source of amusement for them, as they were coming up with ways to humiliate me.

  By the time I realized I was dealing with a pathological sadist, it had already been too late. He was a leech that enjoyed sucking my blood too much to let me take it off just like that. He continued bullying me, even after we’d stopped being friends. But the problem was that he had never crossed that delicate line of harassment that would allow me to report him.He skillfully walked the line and used his sharp intellect to make everything that happened to me look like it was my fault. If someone was to objectively judge the situation I was in, they would see me as the sole culprit. He appeared nowhere.

  I had no one to complain to. I considered transferring to a different college. I even contemplated suicide.

  And then, suddenly, he stopped torturing me. Just, out of the blue. Maybe he had found a new victim, but I wasn’t really up for saving other people’s lives. I wanted to use this momentary relief to graduate and vanish from Minnesota as soon as possible. After a short while, I met a great bunch of geeks I hung out with until the end of my studies.

  But it was naïve of me to think that Bryan had forgotten about me. He showed up once again. At the graduation ceremony. I saw him that morning, and I tried hard to stay invisible, but he just ignored me. He hung out with other people, chatted, and acted cordially. And then, suddenly, while I was talking to my folks and the rest of the family who came to see the graduate, out of nowhere came Bryan.

  - Well, that’s not nice. Aren’t you going to introduce your parents to your best friend?

  Mom and dad exchanged puzzled looks. And then they looked at me. There was mild disappointment in their eyes, as if I was keeping a big decision from them. I’d never told them anything about Bryan, nor did I mention what he was making me go through every single day.

  And he continued charming them, blabbering, and smiling like a Hollywood actor. He bought them the moment he began talking about all the practical jokes he’d been playing on me for several years. He was smiling all the while, as if those were our anecdotes.

  How I forgot the key to my room (how he stole my room key and the clothes from the bathroom), and how I had to climb naked up the building so I could climb in through the window. How I got caught with a bag of pot (he had planted in my Honda), which almost got me kicked out of college. He talked about the fires I had planted, girls from college I drugged with Rohypnol, about a million things he had caused, and now spoke about with a smile, as if those were my mischiefs.

  - There’s one thing I don’t understand, Mark. Your father seems like such a nice man. I can’t believe that, the whole time, you’ve b
een blaming him for your messed up life and your… little problem. – he stretched out his forefinger, put it on his crotch and wiggled it left and right.

  My parents weren’t laughing anymore. Their faces turned ash-green. They looked at the ground in front of them with blank looks on their faces. For the first time, I noticed how much they resembled each other, like every couple that spends a lifetime together. The rest of the relatives looked at me with disgust. They were already walking towards their cars.

  My parents then looked at me.

  - Mom... Dad... He’s lying... He’s... he’s not my friend...

  My father turned around and slowly walked towards the car. My mother walked up to me and kissed me on the cheek.

  - I’ll see you at home, son.

  I stood there, speechless and helpless. In front of me, Brian grinned, waving my folks goodbye as they walked away.

  - Goodbye, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be mad at Mark, he…

  I interrupted him with a punch in the mouth. He stumbled and gave me a confused look, but a moment later, he was grinning again, his eyes shining like that of a madman. I knocked him down and continued punching him. People began to form a circle around us. No one was trying to break up the fight. Someone had probably called the security guards, who were unable to take me off Bryan. I felt a tingling sensation in my neck.