Insignificant

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Guys, this story is about the fetish of macrophilia, a taste for interaction with giant-sized people. It’s a very specific fetish and it’s not for everyone, but some of you may discover a new world. Please let me know if there are people interested in this kind of fetish, so I can post more stories about it or not.

The story is a new twist on the dystopian world of my stories Betrayed and Enslaved and My Life as My Father’s Slave (although curiously this current story preceded those two). It is not necessary, however, to have read them to understand this one. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to send me any comments, questions or criticisms, please.

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The world was totally changed. After the pandemic and after the economic disaster, my country had become a dictatorship and civil rights had been drastically reduced. The worst part, however, had been borne by gay men. While lesbians were tolerated, gays had been considered “enemies of the state” and fierce persecution had begun. At first they were simply arrested and taken to prison, but then a further step was taken: they were stripped of all their rights as individuals and it became commonplace for them to be declared slaves and become the mere property of someone, usually the person who had denounced them.

Some years passed in this way. However, even in such a degraded society, many “owners” of gays found it difficult to see them as completely dehumanized, and this caused problems, until the state came up with a solution. Scientists had developed a technology that allowed people to be reduced in size, and so it was decreed that all homosexuals should be reduced to the size of a toy and given to their owners, who would find it much easier to consider them a simple possession, like those who own a doll or a pet. Most of the gays thus reduced used to end their days squashed between the unconscious fingers of a child, eaten by dogs or cats, or simply crushed under the feet of their owners, when they got tired of having them.

That night I was at home terrified. Until then I had more or less managed to keep my homosexuality a secret, but, in the last few weeks, a couple of reckless dates had put me in the police’s crosshairs. They had been asking questions about me at work and I was sure the circle was closing. I was gripped by the thought that in a matter of days or even hours I could be in custody, reduced to a minuscule size and istanbul travesti handed over to a stranger to do with me as they pleased.

In my frantic thinking I didn’t know where to turn. My parents had died in a car accident a few months ago and I had no more family or really any friends. My thoughts flew to my godfather, Neal, a good friend of my father. I remembered him as a very affable man, who had always treated me very well when I was a child. It is true that we had lost most of our relationship for many years, however, I had seen him recently at my parents’ funeral and had felt him very concerned about me and as close as I remembered him. In fact, he had left me his phone number to come to him when I needed him.

I wasn’t very convinced, but I saw no other option, so I called him and asked to come visit him that very afternoon, to which he readily agreed. So, a few hours later, I found myself knocking on the door of my godfather’s house, who lived in a villa on the outskirts of the city. Neal opened the door immediately and embraced me warmly.

-Hello, Peter, how nice to hear from you! How are you?

My godfather was a big, burly man with a black beard with silver trim, a textbook bear. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a T-shirt that showed his incipient belly, although he kept in shape and conveyed an unmistakable sense of strength and confidence. He invited me to sit down and offered me something to drink. He immediately realized, from my expression, that something was wrong and asked me worriedly:

-Son, is everything all right?

-I’m sorry I came to you, but I didn’t know who else to go to.

-Tell me, what’s wrong?

I swallowed saliva, my heart was beating a thousand per hour, but after a long pause I managed to say:

-Neal, I have something to confess to you. I… I… I… I’m a homosexual.

I saw how his face became haggard. I don’t know what I thought I perceived in his look: contempt? disgust? disappointment? Some of it, no doubt. However, his face, above all, reflected a deep concern.

-What are you saying, Peter? That can’t be… My God! You… but do you know what they can do to you if they find out? You have to hide it.

-Neal, it’s too late now. I know they’re on my trail and they’re after me -,he tried to keep talking, but I cut him off. Please, let me talk. I need to ask you a big favor -he stared at me, very troubled, expectant.

-You tell me, Peter.

-I need you to denounce me istanbul travestileri and then claim me for your own. You know that gays are usually handed over to the person who denounces them if he asks for it.

-But… but… but… I can’t do that.

-Neal, I’m terrified at the thought of being handed over in such a vulnerable state to a stranger, or worse, ending up under the boots of a policeman. At least if I can live with you I still have a chance. Please, Neal, please….

-But I can’t get involved in that. Surely you have people in your life much better suited for it….

-My parents are dead and I don’t have any real friends, no one to confide in, I only have you.

-I… I… I… -I cut him off and taking his big, strong hand I said:

-Neal, please think about it. Just think about it and tell me. But I beg you not to take too much time. I am in grave danger and it could be a matter of hours. Make a decision as soon as possible and call me, please.

I got up, leaving him speechless, and hurried out into the street. “Phew,” I sighed, “It’s done. I hope it doesn’t fail me.”

I spent most of the night sleepless, shattered at what was to be my life from then on, at best. First thing in the morning my phone rang. My heart skipped a beat. It was Neal.

-Peter?

-Yes, Neal, tell me -, I said hurriedly. His voice, on the other hand, was calm, it had nothing to do with the Neal of the day before.

-I will do it -these words gave me immense relief.

-Thank you Neal, thank you godfather! You don’t know what it means to me….

-I can imagine. Look, I’m on my way to the police station right now. In a few minutes I’ll make the report. It’s not easy. I feel like I’m betraying your father, and you know how much I loved him.

-You know it’s not like that, Neal, you’re saving my life.

-It’s all right, Peter. Wait at home and try to calm down. The next time we see each other… well, I think the situation will be completely different….

I knew what he meant, even if I preferred not to think about it. We would no longer be two men bound together by a close relationship. We would be a man and a little toy, stripped of all humanity and dignity.

-Thank you again, Neal -I hung up.

The next few hours I remember vaguely. Everything that happened passed like a haze through my head, as I was being carried back and forth like a zombie. A few hours after Fernando’s call the police knocked on my door and travesti istanbul arrested me on a charge of “deviant behavior”. A night in the dungeon, treated like scum by the cops and the next day the mock trial. Held swiftly, with no more evidence needed than my godfather’s complaint, and the terrible words of the judge: “I find the accused guilty of unnatural conduct and sentence him to be stripped of all his civil rights and reduced to a size of 10 centimeters. Once the process has been carried out, he will be handed over to Mr. Neal Johnson, who will be able to dispose of him as of any object in his possession, including any form of torture or death he may wish to inflict on him”. Those infinitely cruel words shattered my heart. How could we have reached that degree of inhumanity? I looked at my godfather, who heard these words without the slightest alteration on his face. What was he thinking when he heard that?

Then I was stumbled into the police laboratory, where I was strapped to a gurney and a hieratic operator in a white coat injected me with a substance that immediately caused me terrible pain and suffering. I felt as if my body was going to explode from one moment to the next until I lost consciousness.

When I woke up my head still felt like it was going to explode, but fortunately the pain soon passed and I felt fine. I looked around me. I was no longer bound or handcuffed. What I saw chilled my veins. I was surrounded by bars. I was clearly inside a cage, like the ones I had had as a child for birds. However, I could see nothing of the outside, as a white cloth covered the entire outside of my prison. Suddenly, everything moved, I felt nauseous as what was at that moment my world was violently lifted by… a giant hand? I heard movement all around me and two voices booming like thunder, one of which I recognized as that of my godfather.

-THERE YOU HAVE IT, SIR.

-THANK YOU VERY MUCH,” replied Neal.

He continued the movement that churned my stomach for a while until I felt the cage being placed on something. Then, without warning, the cloth that covered it was lifted abruptly.

I will never forget that moment. I was on the passenger seat of Neal’s car. As much as I had thought about it, my mind was not prepared for the shock I suffered when I looked through the bars to the other seat.

There was Neal, seated. Indescribably huge. Gigantic. His body, even in the suit he had worn to the trial, bigger than a mountain. I cannot describe in words what the sight of him provoked in me. I fell to my knees on the ground, feeling more insignificant than ever before this titan that my beloved godfather had suddenly become. He no longer looked like a man, but truly a god.

To be continued?…

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