Then I noticed someone on the other side of the room checking me out. He was rather handsome, so I didn’t avert my gaze. He started walking towards me and I decided this man was definitely a prospective date. He was about six feet tall and looked pretty well built, was in his late twenties or early thirties. Maybe he had some Italian blood? His black hair was pulled back in a short pony- tail.

He stepped up to the bar and asked me politely if I minded if he joined me. I liked that. No awkward line, just a friendly request to share my company. I told him “sure” and offered to buy him a beer. He accepted, and while we waited for it, I got a better look at him. I decided his swarthiness and dark hair were more likely to be from Native American blood than Italian. He had the high cheekbones and deep brown eyes of those people. He wore a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled down. Since I’m really turned on by strong sinewy forearms, I wanted him to roll up those sleeves. I ceased hoping that he would be my type: I’d already decided that he certainly was! Instead I began hoping that he would be attracted to me.

The beer came and we chatted for a few minutes. He said his name was Hall, which I thought might be phony, but I went and told him my real one, Walt. (Obviously short for Walter, but I didn’t say so. I hated the name Walter.) After a few minutes of small talk, he said something that startled me. “Walt, have you ever been to Madagascar?” How could he know about that? And just what exactly did he know?

I tried to be nonchalant. “Yeah, a few years back I did some research there. How’d you know that?”

“I met someone who knew you. A man named Albert Noko.”

Then I began to get frightened. It was obviously not a coincidence that Hall found me tonight. He must have been looking for me. But I said nothing. I just looked at him.

Hall also said nothing for a few moments. Then he went on. “Albert told me some pretty weird tales. Things I found pretty hard to believe, to tell you the truth. Did anything weird happen to you while you were there?”

He was smiling and acting relaxed as if he was still talking idly, but I could tell he was extremely interested in how I reacted. I could feel him observing every twitch of my muscles. I became aware that I was sweating pretty hard. A drop ran down my left temple and I saw Hall’s eyes dart towards it, as if that were all the answer he needed to his question.

“Obviously you didn’t just run into me by accident. What do you want?” I asked bluntly. There was no point in playing games.

“Well,” he said, looking away. Then as he rolled up the flannel sleeves of his shirt, he said, “I wondered if you had ever seen this before.” The object he wore around his right wrist was the very thing I had been terrified of seeing ever since he mentioned Madagascar. Years ago, when I visited that country, I seriously offended a man and he took revenge by drugging me and cutting me with a knife. (I still bore the scar on my left forearm). The blood of my wound he then gave to a local magician who used it to enchant the very iron bracelet I now saw on the wrist of the man standing next to me at the bar. Whoever wore this charm had complete control over my body.

I stared at the terrible thing and almost wept. It had been years since the thing disappeared, and I had begun to hope that it would be forever out of my life. Yet here it was and I had no illusions that Hall didn’t know its significance. The only thing I wondered was what he wanted to do with me.

“Walt, I’ve got to tell you that while I didn’t really believe what I was told about this bracelet, the circumstances under which I bought it were weird enough that I had to find you to test it out. And I finally have. Here you are.”

“Here I am.” I weakly said. “Now please answer my question. What do you want?”

Hall smiled just a bit, and replied, “Well, first I want to see if this thing really works like I was told.”

I didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. I quickly interrupted and said, “I assure you that it does. Please don’t say anything stupid.”

He thought about that for a moment. “Okay, but I still just want to be sure.” Then he looked at my crotch. “You have a ten-inch dick… no, a twelve-inch dick… no, you have fifteen-inch dick!… and it’s beginning to get hard.”

Now I actually had a normal-sized five-inch dick, but the instant Hall completed his sentence, my dick grew to ten, then twelve inches, then fifteen impossible inches in my pants and began to grow hard. Hall’s eyes widened as he stared at the huge and obvious bulge suddenly snaking through my pants leg. “Damn!” He whispered. “It really is true, isn’t it?”

My erection was growing very painful, and I had to go to the bathroom to let it out of my pants. I gave Hall an angry look and ran to the bathroom, not far from the bar.

Once there, I went into a toilet stall and unzipped my pants. The monstrous cock that I now possessed burst free and throbbed in the open air, reaching to my chest. After a minute or so, I began to laugh as madmen will. “Well,” I said to no one, “at least he did something to me that I like.” I stroked my dick, and felt my fingertips through every inch of its new surface. Then I pulled my pants down to my ankles, sat on the toilet, and leaned forward to suck my own cock. It wasn’t at all hard to do. In fact, at least three inches of it I could envelop entirely in my mouth. I sucked on the cock head and rolled my tongue around it. When I shot come into my mouth, it squirted onto the back of my throat and I thought what a unique club I had joined: the men who were able to suck themselves off.

I waited until my erection went away and the flesh dangling between my legs was relatively manageable--though still colossal. Tucking it into my pants, I had to guide it down my pants leg where it nearly reached my right knee. It was a good thing I hadn’t worn very tight jeans! I left the bathroom and considered trying to make a dash for it. I could change my name. I could move to another city. Maybe he wouldn’t find me. But the thought of going through all that again, of running, running always running. Not knowing. It would be unbearable. Plus, I couldn’t very easily live with a fifteen-inch dick. The only life for me would be as a star in pornographic films.

I decided to go back. Hall was right where he’d been before. I stood at the bar and looked at him. Half-sarcastically, I said, “Thanks a lot. Now I can suck myself off whenever I get lonely.”

Hall smiled and said, “Oh, that won’t happen. You and I are a team now.”

I just stared at him, wondering what he had in mind.

Then he said, “Walt, look. I don’t know what that African man did to you, but I’m not going to hurt you. You’re in a gay bar, I’m in a gay bar. Why don’t we make the most of this thing?”

Could it be true? Could it be that he would use the bracelet not to torture me, but to please me and himself both? I had to be sure. “Hall, tell me what you’re thinking. I have to know what you want to do.”

Hall lowered his voice and said, “Walt, we could have the greatest sex in the world. We can do anything at all that we want. Your fantasies, my fantasies… we’ll make them come true!” He paused and looked in my eyes to see how I would react. When I said nothing, still trying to decide if what I heard could possibly be true, he went on, “Do you find me attractive, Walt? I can use the bracelet on you, but not on me.”

At last I believed that he meant what he said. I was not only relieved, I was beginning to get quite excited. The possibilities which he envisioned I had long ago gone over and over in my mind. Now the fantasies really could come true. Did I find him attractive? This gorgeous hunk? “Hall, you’re the sexiest man in this bar tonight. I find you very… very… attractive. Having sex with you would be great no matter how we did it.”

“Walt, you don’t have to work any more. I know you’re a beer delivery man, but with me, you can do a hundred other things you’ll like better.” That bothered me a little bit. I actually liked what I did. I liked my clients, I liked my image, I enjoyed the physical nature of my job. But I had to admit, there were other things that would now be possible which were awfully exciting to think about. Especially related to sex. I could be anyone’s dream man. And people would pay for that.

Evidently, Hall was thinking along the same lines. “Men will pay a fortune to be with you. I’ll show you. Go to the bathroom and sit in a toilet stall, when you get there, close the door. You will turn into a six-foot-four tower of pure muscle with a ten-inch dick. No, that won’t work… your clothes won’t be able to fit. Your height will have to stay the same, but you’ll gain fifty pounds of pure muscle. You’ll be as big as the biggest bodybuilder you’ve ever seen. And very hairy. You’ll have black hair all over your chest and stomach and forearms.” He paused. “Wait a second, will a delayed transformation work? I mean, can I say that this will happen when you get there?”

“Yes, it will work. Everything will happen just as you say.” I didn’t worry about the dangers that might happen if what he said came true literally. A tower of “pure muscle”, after all, would be a brainless carcass. But that wasn’t how the magic worked. The bracelet always correctly interpreted the intent of its wearer.

“Okay, then. Go to a stall and that will happen. Then step out and wait for a middle-aged man to enter the bathroom. If he steps up to the mirror and begins combing his hair, I’ve sent him to you. You go to a urinal and pull out your meat. You’ll piss a gallon. Then don’t take less than two hundred dollars from the man just to suck you off. Got it?”

Though I normally wouldn’t have liked the idea of sex in a public bathroom, nor prostituting myself, it felt strangely exhilarating thinking about doing it while “wearing” a hyper-masculine body. I agreed to what Hall had said and then, with butterflies in my stomach, went to the bathroom. As soon as I closed the door to the stall, I felt my body swell up with muscular mass. My chest widened considerably, stretching my shirt, my upper arms did likewise. I watched dark hair thicken on my forearms, and when I peeked under my shirt, a forest of the same greeted me there. I was anxious to see myself in the bathroom mirror, but I couldn’t leave yet. Someone had been at the sink when I entered, and I had better wait until he left or he would wonder what the hell had happened.

Or would he? I looked so different, he would surely not recognize me. I decided to test my theory by leaving the bathroom stall and moving to the sink to wash my face right next to the man. I felt his eyes on me, staring at my huge masculine body longingly. I outwardly ignored his gaze while secretly delighted in it inside. The man combed his hair, washed his face, then evidently ran out of excuses to stay and, taking me in in one final aching glance, he left the bathroom.

I waited a minute, and then a middle-aged man entered, gasped as he took in the sight of me, then went to the sink and began to part his hair. Suddenly, I felt a huge pressure on my bladder, and I moved to a urinal to relieve myself. My pendulous organ hung from my fly and I held it in my right hand like a hose. The man at the sink finished combing his hair and came towards me. Then he stood at the next urinal over and did his own duty: pissing, then shaking himself off, then putting his dick away. Meanwhile, my stream went on and on and the man stared in disbelief both at the size of my penis and at how long I was urinating.

I began to have fun with it. I would let the flow go down to a trickle as though I were almost done, then I’d turn it on full blast once again. I shifted hands as if my right hand grew tired of holding such a heavy weight for so long. I boldly stared at the man next to me, but he was oblivious to my gaze, for now he was boldly staring at me! And not at my face either, but directly, unashamedly, at my monstrous cock.

Finally I felt myself running out of urine, and I assumed I had pissed the requisite gallon. I shook the head of my dick dry, but didn’t put it away. Instead, I turned to the man and said, “You want to suck this, don’t you?”

The man looked startled for a moment, then said, “I’ll pay you fifty dollars to let me suck you off.”

I laughed. “I wouldn’t let you touch me for fifty dollars. And if you try to, I’ll beat you to a pulp so your mother wouldn’t recognize you.”

But I still didn’t put my meat away or leave, so he knew there was a price. “How much, then?” He asked.

“How much you got?”

“A hundred dollars.”

“For a hundred dollars, you can touch me for thirty seconds.”

“Wait a second,” the man said, and got out his wallet. I knew Hall must have found someone he knew would have plenty of money. “I’ve got more.”

“How much more?”

The man took out a wad of money and showed me. “I’ve got two hundred and twenty dollars.”

Tourist, I thought. Well, he was going to shoot his wad tonight. “Okay,” I said. For two hundred and twenty dollars, you can suck me off. I held out my hand, and the man only paused a moment before letting go of his better judgement and passing me the stack of money.

I didn’t do anything, but just stood there with my dick hanging out of my fly. The man looked at me like I was supposed to do something, but I just said, “Well?”

“Hang on,” said the man, and turned to lock the bathroom door so he wouldn’t be caught.

Then, comforted a bit, he turned to me and got on his knees. Then he lifted my meat with his hands like it was a hot dog, and put it in his mouth. He sucked on it hard, and I felt a boner coming fast. Yet he also sucked on it deeply, and as I grew hard, I could feel myself inside his throat, getting stiffer and more uncomfortable in that position. I stepped back just a bit to free my cock head from the man’s esophagus.

It probably was only a minute or two later when I came, filling the man’s mouth with a very large quantity of sticky semen. He wanted to go on sucking, but I pulled myself out of his mouth and, tucking my new income source back into my pants, zipped up and left the man alone.

Outside, I found Hall waiting back at the bar in the same place where we had talked. “Wow,” he said. “You look utterly unbelievable.” He was looking me up and down like a sculpture. In a sense that’s what I was, his artwork.

I said, “I got two hundred twenty dollars.”

“I thought he looked like a rich, desperate cock-sucker. I was right. But we can do much, much better than that. Still, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have some fun with you myself now. Is that okay?”

I mused that, far from taking a turn for the worse as I had feared when I laid eyes on the bracelet, my life seemed to have become decidedly better tonight. Hall seemed to be no sadist, and wanted to make sure things were okay with me before altering my body. We could not only have fun having sex, we could make money off it as well. Enough to live comfortably anywhere in the world. And not necessarily by selling my body to men, though that now seemed a very appealing thing.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“Okay! In a little while let’s go somewhere a little more private. But first I want to enjoy people staring at us. Let’s go sit at a booth.”

Though the place was crowded, we got lucky and one of the booths was just being vacated. We sat opposite one another and Hall and I took one another in. Now that I was not so anxious about the return of the bracelet into my life, I appreciated what a handsome man Hall was. His forearms were as strong and sinewy as I had desired, with a thin covering of black hairs. His face was strong and serious, but his eyes were bright. His body was lean but clearly muscular, and his neck was strong.

As I was taking him in, he was doing the same to me. While in the bathroom, I marked that he had not altered my face. How odd it had been to see my face sitting atop this thick tree-trunk of a neck! My arms seemed far away from my body now, so broad were my shoulders! And my jeans, loose-fitting at the start of the evening, now fit me badly, my big thighs rather tight in them.

Hall said to me, “So tell me what you want to do, Walt. What are your fantasies that we can now make come true? Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

I couldn’t believe this was happening. “Well, one of my fantasies has already come true. I’m sitting here, looking like a bodybuilder, with shoulders like…” I laughed, rubbing my right shoulder with my giant left hand, “…like… bowling balls! My chest feels like I’m wearing a suit of armor or something. It’s unbelievable!”

As I was saying this, a waiter came to take our orders. He had to be used to seeing attractive and muscular men at the Gemini, yet still he looked at me like I was a rare specimen. I had a goofy grin on my face that I couldn’t stifle. “A pint of Guinness, please.” And Hall said, “The same.”

Then Hall said, “Have you ever fantasized about being a different size than you are now?”

“You mean like this?” I asked, pointing to a softball-sized biceps?

“No, I don’t mean the size of your muscles. I mean the size of your whole body. Have you ever fantasized about being, say, twelve inches tall?”

The thought made me tingle with both fear and longing. I knew that some people had this fetish, and while I didn’t share it, I had to admit that the thought of it—now that it was truly possible—was exciting. But I was also afraid of being so completely at someone’s mercy. Not, I quickly told myself, as though I’m not already completely at Hall’s mercy. What the hell, I thought. Why not? “I haven’t much before, but I’m game if you want to try it.”

Hall said nothing, but just nodded and smiled faintly. “That’s what we’ll do tonight. But first I want you to tell me about this bracelet.”

“And I want you to tell me how you found it.”

“I will, but you go first.”

Our drinks came, and for a long while, we told one another our stories. I won’t relate them here, as they are both the subjects of their own stories and don’t anything else to do with what happened to us afterwards. But maybe he or I will write them down someday.

Around 1:00 AM we left the Gemini to the envious stares of countless men, all longing to possess or caress a body like mine. •