Made for Me


Made for me

Manny was a good boy. His mother always said so, more from the hope that it would sink in and keep him safe and away from any real opportunities for wandering and excitement. After his father left, she promised herself that Manny wouldn’t grow up to be like his father.

For him, his father was a vague memory. A distant feeling of loss and scorn engrained in him by Mama and the basis upon which all his decisions were always, always founded. Manny could always hear her voice echoing from the back of his mind, tempering his more primal urges. She said he was a good boy and he loved his mother deeply so at the tender age of 19 he tried to fight all those deliciously tempting urges and be that good boy vision for her. He had been all she had since his father had left and Mama now depended on him so.

Today was no different. He was running an errand for her, something that gave him a small sense of pride and satisfaction to do and would have made it back in time for supper but something made him go the long way. He knew it was the chance to see pretty college coeds in their skimpy summer outfits and the way they wore all the newest style yoga pants that clung to their sexy round bottoms. He especially loved the ones with the big bums. Sometimes he would imagine what it would be like to kiss and rub his face into their sexy bottoms and it made him ache deep down and his big cock get hard. He could imagine them in their pretty little panties underneath those tight stretchy clothes and knew that tonight, after his Mama went to bed, he would be thinking about them. And then, with a soft pop, the fucking tire went flat.

It was an old car and the tires were mostly bald. They were long past the point where they needed replacement and the spare would have been too, if he had one. He kicked the rear fender in disgust watching orange-colored rust rain down and glared at the sagging doughnut of rubber that wasn’t going anywhere. He fished in his pocket and brought out the small wad of bills he had left from his pay. This wasn’t going to buy him a new tire.

He looked around as he wondered who he could call for help and who might actually respond. The small bit of luck he had was he was on a busy street in Medford and it would be easy for him to pull into the big empty parking lot right here to change the tire.

The lot surrounded a gray bunker looking building with ridged cement siding and no windows. A single door recessed into an alcove seemed out of place and offset from the front of the building. It looked like a private club or CIA headquarters. Beside the doorframe, something small and yellowed was taped to the paint-flecked woodwork. “Hardwood Haven” written in plain script.

“I wonder what kind of place this is,” he thought. “Maybe I can use their phone and call Michael for help.”

He bumbled the car onto the far corner of the blacktop lot veined with lines of tar, the floppy retread rumbling with every foot. He felt as deflated as that tire. His sudden predicament underscoring his meager resources and prospects as he walked to the door.

His spirits planked further when he pulled on the door and found it locked, “Damn, what else can happen?”

Smelly flowing smoke from big diesels rumbling past stung his eyes and a jumbo jet soared above him. Nothing offered any solutions. The plane faded into a dark cloud that definitely looked like it wanted to dump it liquid contents on his poor sweat-soaked brow.

“bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt” came from the door just as he was about to begin walking. He tried the handle and found the door opened for him this time. Within, he found it dark and cool. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim interior. He could make out a long bar down the center of the room and high-backed booths trimmed in cracked hobnailed leather on either side. It was quiet in the bar with only the tinkle of glasses from a bartender busily washing them behind the sturdy bamboo bar.

He leaned over a comfy stool and cleared his throat trying to get the bartender’s attention.

“Pardon me…may I use your phone? I’ve had a flat and I’m stuck in your parking lot,” Manny said.

“He can’t hear you with his headphones in,” came a voice from right behind him. Manny spun to find a beautiful, exotic woman had somehow appeared just inches behind him. Her voluptuous breasts brushed against him as he turned. He could feel the warmth of her body emanating against him.

She was tall, taller than he, and wide in the shoulders like an athlete, but her curves…oh her curves were so impressive and emphasized by the skimpy tight-fitted bustier and gasp! Yoga pants! They were pure white and so very tight with some sort of colored pattern running diagonally across the legs.. Her clothes looked almost painted on and, in the dimly-lit bar he couldn’t be certain they weren’t. Her feet were in the highest heels he had ever seen. His mother never wore heels and so he hadn’t seen very many except on the computer Bostancı Sınırsız Escort screen in his room late at night when he knew Mama was asleep. They added to her towering beauty and did something to his chest that made it hard to breathe.

“Can I…help you?” she said in a deep whisper. Her voice seemed so breathy and sultry he felt like it was an erotic effort for her to speak.

“I..I am flat!” he blurted, already intimidated by this mysterious creature.

“I can see that,” she chuckled her voice almost tinkling like a wind chime when she laughed. “Believe it or not we can fix that…” She left the statement hanging in the air as she turned and walked…no glided in those amazingly tall heels, off towards the dark of the bar. Manny stared at the fantastically rounded globes of her bum region, perfectly formed and supple, her curves calling to him as she moved away.

“Are you coming?” she asked, turning back to him. Her figure with those amazingly large gravity-defying bosoms that had actually touched him were backlit by a small window. It framed her, a vision, a goddess to his young mind. In a flash he could hear his mama’s voice telling him to run from that place. Fix the car some other way or just leave it! No good would come from following this mysterious woman into the darkness. But, this time, the voice was small compared to his need to be with this amazing creature and faded quickly when a small brilliant smile spread across her lips, just the tip of her tongue peeking out. It suddenly made her seem innocent and young. He almost forgot how sexy and how intimidating it had been to have her so close, to feel her body heat and the sound of her voice in his ear.

Manny’s feet were moving before he realized he was walking toward her. He reached her side and they continued into the back of the bar.

Behind dark velvet curtains was a small chamber with a plain wooden door at the end. Manny could make out scratches on the door frame as if fingernails had gripped the painted edges trying desperately to keep from falling within whatever lurked beyond the faded rose-colored door.

“There is a man in the office there… just go in and tell him what you want…what you need,” she whispered close to his ear. “His name is Patrick. Tell him that Melanie said it was ok. He will help you. And when he is done with you, we can have a drink together Manny.”

Manny heard her words and thought his name sounded so perfect on her lips…even if he didn’t remember telling her his name, at that point, his car and cares far away, it was all Manny wanted.

~ * ~

Manny knocked softly. He turned remembering he hadn’t thanked her, hoping she would be close and her breasts would brush against him again, but she had disappeared.

Manny knocked timidly on the old door. He smelled a faint scent, evoking memories of cinnamon and sugar rising pleasantly from beyond the door. The aroma was pleasant and he knocked a little louder.

“Come in,” said a quiet self -assured voice.

Manny’s hand was slick upon the tarnished brass doorknob and he had to grip it tighter to turn it. The door stuck just a bit and he stumbled into the room.

“Well you certainly know how to make an entrance, “chuckled the solid man sitting in the chair behind a broad polished desk. Manny noticed the lack of anything on the desk before he took stock of the man behind it.

“Melanie said you could help me…are you Patrick?”

“Well if Melanie said so then it must be true,” he said rising and extending his large strong hand in greeting. His smile was big and broad and full of brilliant white teeth. It stretched across his face but didn’t seem to touch his deep green eyes. Emerald eyes… His grip was intense. Manny couldn’t remember anyone having shaken his hand that way before, controlling yet friendly, commanding really.

“I’m flat!” he said a little too loudly, wondering why he said it that way again.

“Yes, you are and I see you have car trouble too…” he chuckled once again. When he laughed it wasn’t a superficial titter from his throat but something that originated much deeper. Manny thought that laugh sounded like it had escaped from inside the man and really couldn’t say why. How did he know about his car trouble? Were there cameras outside?

“May I use your phone to call someone for help, please?” Manny cringed a little again his voice sounding whiney compared to this man’s deep tenor voice.

“It’s not even necessary,” those flashing teeth again. “We have already called someone to…fix it,” he said, again with a small chuckle. “We will take care of everything.”

“Please Sir, er, Patrick, I really don’t have the money for all that…may I just call my friend to pick me up?”

“It’s fine Manny, already in the works,” he said rising and rounding the desk to put his arm around Manny. “Did you like meeting Melanie? She is really something, isn’t she? And not a nicer person to be found anywhere.”

Patrick Bostancı Suriyeli Escort wrapped his brawny arm around Manny and hugged him close as he steered him toward the small loveseat beside the desk. Manny had a moment to notice how big his muscled arm felt against his back before He was dragged down into soft supple leather enveloping them both, tightly together.

“What brings you to us today Manny,” Patrick asked. “Did you hear about our special offer and want to become part of the team? Are you looking for lifelong success and rewards?”

Manny flushed with confusion. His emotions wavering between sheer panic at being almost captured by this man’s arms and a sudden chance at something good and exciting happening to him. His raised a high pitch squeak when the man suddenly grabbed Manny knee in a tight strong grip. His hand was more on his thigh than his knee. Manny awkwardly hunched his shoulders and cupped his hands in his groin, tucking his neck. He felt a bit frightened by the speed that all this had happened. A moment ago, with a vision of beauty and then this! Patrick turned to face him and had his hand slipped up his thigh just a little bit more than was neighborly?

“Manny you seem like a person who knows how to make decisions. You aren’t in the entertainment business by any chance, are you?”

“N nno sir, I’m in fast food.” He said, slightly embarrassed.

“So, you know how to take care of people,” said Patrick. “Fulfil their needs, take care of their…hunger.”

“Oh yes Sir,” Manny stammered, now a touch emboldened. “My boss says I am one of the best servers.”

“I knew it,” Patrick roared. “You are a natural server. Manny, my friend, you have come to us serendipitously. We are going to do great things, you and I. You will become my greatest creation ever” Patrick stared deeply into Manny’s eyes and the rest of the world and his car and his Mama and even Melanie melted away. As if by magic Manny had someone who believed in him. Not just someone, but a man, a strong man. Someone he imagined his father would have been like.

“We need a drink to celebrate our new enterprise!” he yelled. “Jack!” he bellowed at the door. Bring us something special to drink, to celebrate!” And Patrick laughed again and hugged Manny tighter. Manny caught a whiff of the cinnamon and sugar again and realized it was his cologne. He thought it a very strange scent and there was something else, something deeper and not so sweet beneath it.

There was a knock and the door opened. A man, presumably Jack, stood there with a tray with two rather fancy cocktail glasses on it. One was more fluted and rounder than the other. Patrick took them both and thrust the shapely glass into Manny’s hand.

“And we should have a toast to providence that has brought you here to us today. We are going to make this a huge success, you and I. In a year you won’t even recognize yourself.” Patrick’s grin grew even broader than before showing sharp pointed teeth that almost looked like fangs. He clinked Manny’s glass and said, “Here’s to transformation and dreams,” and he drank and Manny drank his own, slightly sweet, slightly bitter liquid and smiled right back at Patrick.

Outside, a tow truck lifted Manny’s old car and drove off into the gathering rainstorm.

His first thought was for the milk and chicken in the bag in his trunk. Mama wouldn’t touch chicken that had been left to warm to long. She would reprimand him and never let him forget it.

He wondered why he couldn’t open his eyes. There seemed to be something covering them and it was so tight. He tried to reach up and remove it but he couldn’t move his hand. He tried the other hand with the same result. Panic rushed within him as he found his legs wouldn’t move either!

He moaned trying to call for help, but there was something round in his mouth and all he could manage was a guttural moan. His throat felt dry and scratchy and there was drool on his chin. He began to cry and moan and tried to writhe upon the bed on which he lay. His hands and feet were not tied? He suddenly realized he was enveloped, wrapped head to toe in some stretchy plastic bag. Tightly encasing him, hugging him to the surface and so tight he could barely breathe against it. His body felt strange too. He could feel something holding his bum up higher than he should be. Something that felt like large pillows. His tummy hurt like he had been doing sit-ups for hours, and there was something strange about his feet.

There was some sort of ball in his mouth and a breathing tube that allowed him air but not speech. He realized there was some sort of stiff high collar around his neck, too. Had he been in an accident? Was he crippled? Wait, where was Melanie? Patrick?

“Now, now little one,” said a nearby person. “You’re getting too over excited. We don’t want you moving around too much just yet. I am going to help you sleep Maquisha and in a little while we will talk.” Said Bostancı İranlı Escort the voice.

He cold hear birds…

And then he felt the sun on his face. It was warm and pleasant. His first breath was labored and the sharp tang of antiseptic greeted his nostrils. It wasn’t that he couldn’t breathe but that his chest was constricted…wrapped tightly. The wrapping was more than just his chest, but his abdomen and tummy too. He could see now and tried and experimental hum to check his throat and voice. The sound was high pitched and slightly raspy and his throat hurt when he did it. He was in a room with pretty pink curtains on the windows. They had small yellow flowers embroidered into them in a regular pattern that reminded him of home just a little. He saw a seagull soar by outside. He could hear an easy breeze rustling a flag somewhere nearby muted by something in his ears and he realized there were ear buds in them. He must have been listening to music when he went to sleep.

He could move his hands now but they too felt strange. He felt panic when he realized he must have been in an accident and was in a hospital somewhere. But he thought of the chicken again and how could he have been in an accident if his car didn’t work? Or maybe it was all a dream!

Fearing the pain that must accompany such horrible injury, he carefully raised his right hand to his face to look at it. His fingers seemed farther away than they should or just smaller, more delicate. His nails were long. Manny usually bit his nails nervously so he must have been out a long time, he thought for them to grow that much.

He twitched his left arm to see if there was pain and felt relieved that it felt weaker, but normal. Slowly and carefully he checked his legs and other body parts and found no pain, just that tightness and an ache in his chest, and that strange feeling of “fullness” in his bum region. His ankles, no his calves felt very tight as well, but he was afraid to check them too closely. In a moment of panic, he shifted his hand to his groin to see if he had suffered any damage there. What he found surprised him. Not only was his cock still there and intact but it seemed he was aroused. And he had grown! Either his hands were smaller or his cock had grown impressively while he was out. Manny could barely wrap his fingers around the girth of it. Oh, and it felt so good to hold it too. He ran his hand up and down his shaft and the feeling was so much better than he could ever remember. He would have to stop this before he came all over the bed and his mother would be furious.

The thought of his Mama brought things back into focus. He remembered the voice that spoke to him when he had been encased in that protective wrap. It hadn’t been Mama’s voice. It had been a woman, he thought. She had called him a funny name…” Mac something”.

Manny tested his voice again as he tried to remember what happened to him.

“Hello,” he croaked in what sounded like a strange voice for him.

Raspier yet throaty and yes it sounded a little…velvety was what came to mind. “Mama? Are you here? Anybody?”

The name Patrick floated into his memory. Patrick was going to make him a success. He remembered that. It gave him so much pleasure to remember his name that his cock twitched in response. From somewhere far off a wave of emotion washed over him and before he knew what was happening his cock gushed and he was overcome with pleasure unlike any night at the computer screen.

At the same time his earbuds came alive. Soft music filled his head. Beneath the quietly building sound of strings and flutes, he felt, rather than heard a steady drum beat. It built, slowly, slowly overtaking and pushing out the soft music. Soon it was loud in his head and there was a voice inside it. Insisting, strong and commanding, yet not quite understood. It was saying something and…his cock was responding! The pleasure in his balls was growing and he felt it in his fingers and toes. His chest began to tingle and he could feel his nipples hardening and growing! Then he felt it. A steady buzz…a hum and then movement. Softly at first but then more insistent. Vibrations, pleasure, deep inside him, and they were coming from his bum. Not on his bum but from inside! He unconsciously clenched around the feeling and it rewarded him with greater pleasure, stronger vibrations and it was moving too. Somehow it seemed to be getting longer! Growing and shrinking inside him, timed to the drumbeat in his head. He could make out the words behind the beat now…”Patrick is god, Patrick is holy, Patrick is your man,” and repeating over and over and each time the pleasure in his ass would pulse and rise and grow longer and his cock would twitch and gush and his nipples were electric sparks attached to his cock and it would happen again and again and then it all stopped. When it stopped Manny fainted.

~ * ~

“Well, well sleepyhead, ready to face the new day?” said a musical female voice.

“Time to sit up and take nourishment baby.”

Manny carefully opened one eye. He immediately remembered the feeling and the intensity of emotion from before. “Patrick is my Man” echoed in his memory and he felt a strong surge in his groin. “Where am I,” he asked, timidly checking out his voice. “Where is Patrick?”