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Vikram's Trunk


lionsimb

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Long time reader - first time posting. 

 

The first two chapters are mostly for character building, and such. The growth starts at the end of chapter two. ;S 

 

Hoping to see where this leads!

 

CHAPTER ONE:

The cool winter chilled at the back of my neck, I pulled my scarf higher obscuring the tip of my shivering chin, my quivering lips. Why had I decided to come here? Well, because of Frank and Jim. You know the type. That kind of married couple the ones who always seem so sickeningly “into” each other, the ones who’ve probably never had a single fight. Always so… so sweet so… What only made matters worse is that I’ve known Frank, I’ve known him since we were in the same grade – St. Catherine’s Elementary School – and I’ve had a crush on him for about as long. I remember the anguish, the sense of betrayal when he started dating Him. Jim, the artist, Jim the aspiring writer/actor/director. How could I compete with that?

 

Me. The writer. Me the boarding on introverted. The words not speeches. The more-on-the-scrawny side, the never-really-works-out because – hey – my metabolism’s just like that. I’d probably just be scraping 170 with my coat, my hoodie, my gloves, boots, scarf, and all the other winter apparel that never really seemed to take the sting away from the relentless, Canadian, winter. Always mistaken for twenty, sometimes sixteen, once even fourteen. But actually just shy of twenty-five.

 

I stopped and examined my reflection in the window. Rosy, high-ish cheek bones (nothing compared to Jim’s face carved by goddamn angels), dark blue eyes (again, nothing like Jim’s cherubic light-green orbs), and dirty-blonde hair (not like… his… wavy blonde locks). Sometimes there’d be the ghost of a shadow of a hair growing in a weird, confused, spot somewhere along my jaw. But I’ve never been able to manage anything else. (Again not like – Maybe I should stop with the comparisons. This is starting to bum me out.)

 

In any case, what had once been a burning hurt had slowly turned into a cool stone in the pit of my stomach. Frank was happy. Jim was… Well. Jim. Their wedding was simple, elegant, tasteful, and they… seemed so in love. Never really seemed keen on sharing how they met, though. Always a mystery. Probably just eHarmony or something. (Not that I’ve had much luck there or at all for that matter.)

 

Which brings me to where I was then: A complete and totally sketchy alleyway in the middle of nowhere. A half-frozen piece of paper clutched in one of my gloved hands supposedly directions that led to this fabled ‘Shop of Wonders.’ I had my doubts. Oh god did I ever. But I was doing this for Frank. (I always did things for…) He said, he insisted. “Seriously. Give this place a chance. You’ll see – I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

 

And then I found it. A perfectly average 7-11 tucked in the middle of nowhere. In the middle of other boarded-up shops, industrial offices, in the middle of a snow-banked nothing. God. I felt like I was here to buy a gun or something. I puzzled over this development. I puzzled over the fact that the address was addressed to… here. This convenience store.

 

But I remembered Frank’s conviction, somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember the fervour of how he spoke once again, “This shop is amazing, fantastic and,” he winked, “maybe even a little magic. It has a way of making all your wishes come true. Of making all your troubles… dissapear.”

 

I didn’t see what was so amazing about a 7-11. But, I shrugged, I was here anyways. May as well give it a shot. So – I pushed open the door as a bell tinkled signalling my arrival. I immediately unwrapped my scarf and stuffed my hat into my black pea coat pocket – force of habit.

 

Everything seemed normal enough. Grungy ceiling, walls, faded colours of green, blue and red. A plethora of dusty merchandise arranged in a half-ass sort of way. An ‘Out of Order’ Slurpee machine (not that anyone would want one of those now) sat in the corner next to the area where a small cash register would sit. Next to where an employee should be standing.

 

I looked around: there was literally nobody here. No one in uniform, no customers, nothing. If I wanted to – I could just take something and leave and no one would be the wiser.

 

I meandered around the shop after I stomped my slushied boots on the welcoming mat. I picked up some items here and there (in some cases having to blow a layer of dust to see what it actually was) and found myself in the magazine section. Nothing but old magazines, yellowed papers, forgotten articles, discarded pictures from years before. One of those trashy tabloids actually had the date ‘2000.’ Meaning it was nearly fourteen years old.

 

“Shit,” I muttered to myself, “If this magazine was a kid – I could be… Teaching it.” I worked as a substitute teacher. Partially because I never really gave up my dream of being a writer or playwright and partially because getting a full time position in the city is almost impossible.

 

I turned and looked around again as if expecting to see an employee breathing down my neck. But nope. No one. Nothing. This place was abandoned. Yet… The lights were on. The heating was on. The door had been open. So… There should be… someone… here.

 

I waited for a few minutes in the center of the store expecting – I don’t know. I don’t know what I was expecting. Something. Anything. Anyone? But nothing happened. I sighed. Maybe this was another one of Jim’s practical jokes. Jim. That guy. I swear I – No. No. I said I wouldn’t dwell on him again.

 

I waited for a few minutes longer before I finally decided to give up. It was no use – there was nothing here for me now. Much like Frank.

 

I turned to leave, I headed towards the door… But something caught my eye. Something behind the wall behind the cash register. I closed the door, I shuffled towards it. There was a hallway there. A hallway that led down a bit towards a door with a sign above it, “Vikram’s Shop of Wonders.”

 

My heart skipped a beat. This was it. This was the place that Frank had told me about – it was real. I found my feet beginning to lead be towards this place before I could process what I was doing. My hand around the door-knob before I could protest, before I could think clearly.

 

And before I knew it, I was inside the little room.

 

A room covered with a ceiling covered with different swathes of translucent fabrics, pink and purple and blue and orange. As well as shelves which lined all the walls which made the area feel smaller than it actually was. In the center of the room was a low table and cushions for sitting as well as a stereotypic crystal ball at its center. So entranced was I with the room that I almost didn’t see something on the opposite side. Or rather, someone.

 

A man, about my age, stood watching me. He had quite short jet-black hair, piercing dark blue eyes, and rather pale skin. Much of his jaw was stubbled in a sort of intentionally unkempt way and he – he seemed to be watching me. He wore a dark-brown leather jacket, and a blue-and-white checkered shirt with matching dark blue skinny jeans and brown-laced shoes. His build is what I would call average – maybe he worked out a bit but nothing serious. Relatively broad shoulders, about the same height as me at around five eleven, and a very slight paunch. The only difference was he could pull off the paunch look with just the right amount of definition in his chest, arms versus me where I’d look more like a lollipop if I had any trace of fat in my upper body.

 

Conclusion: he was cute. I found my self blushing slightly and I averted my eyes. “Looking for something?” He asked and my eyes immediately shifted back to him.

This time I noticed his eyebrows – just the right amount of thickness and seemed natural versus… Jim’s stupid and overly groomed brows that looked more like lines than anything else. (Maybe that wasn’t completely fair but whatever. Jim sucks.) In any case – on of this man’s brows were raised in an inquisitive but also very attractive manner.

 

“Uh… I…. Well… I…” I stammered then cleared my throat, “Maybe?” I waved the little piece of paper that Frank had given me. “Are you Vikram?” I asked.

 

“Uh,” The man shrugged, “no, I’m not.”

 

There was an awkward pause filled with some sort of tension that I wasn’t familiar with.

 

“I’m David,” I offered, “some people call me Dave.” No one called me Dave. That was a lie that I don’t really know why I spun.

 

“Dexter,” He offered, “but people call me Dex.”

 

I wasn’t sure if he saw through that little white lie or not. Never the less, there was one of those awkward pauses again as we just stood there.

 

“Soooo,” I attempted to fill the silence, “do you know when Vikram will be back?”

 

“You just missed him actually,” Dexter explained, “Just left. But he told me to wait for – Well. He told me to wait. Said I could help the next customer.”

 

What kind of help? My mind drifted to some… less than pure places, I’ll admit.

 

“Oh,” I nodded in a overtly-normal way, “Great.”

 

Another awkward pause, I allowed my eyes to scan the shelves full of unfamiliar objects, colours, stuffed animals, dolls. Miscellaneous junk it seemed.

 

“Vikram told me that what you want – or – what you need is over here,” Dexter pointed to the bottom of a cluttered wall, “on this shelf.”

 

I nodded slightly, my pulse beating in my ears. I walked over towards him and looked towards where he pointed. I couldn’t help but feel his warmth in the slightly chilled room, smell the smooth clean smell of cool spearmint that came from the man.

 

I looked at the top shelf.

 

“No – Not that shelf,” Dex smiled as he redirected my gaze, “that one.”

 

The bottom. One. The one that seemed to merge with the floor. It contained a large trunk that would normally be used to store clothing, a ring box presumably containing a ring, a deck of playing cards, a photograph, a USB Stick (which, in retrospect, seemed really out of place), a balloon, a necklace, a book…

 

I was confused – and apparently it showed.

 

“You need to pick one,” Dexter explained.

 

“I need too…?” I let my sentence trail off.

 

“Yes David,” Dex smiled. My heart fluttered. The way he said my name…

 

“Uh… I don’t really know…?” I was confused.

 

“Just pick whatever one feels right.”

 

I crouched, my hand hovered over the necklace, the book, the trunk.

 

“I just take one…” I still wasn’t sure.

 

“Yup that’s how it works,” Dexter spoke patiently, “Now, which one will you choose?” 

 

 

- - -

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWO:

“Now, which one will you choose?” Dexter’s question hung in the air.

 

Admittedly, I wasn’t sure. Honestly, I didn’t even know what I was choosing between. Was this some sort of superstitious kind of deal? Some zodiac or voodoo hocus-pocus kind of idea?

 

Regardless – I looked in-between the items – the flash drive, the trunk, the necklace, the book… But my eyes kept being drawn back to the trunk. As immense as it was – it had these details carved into it, these figurines, serpents, and little scenes so expertly woven in the grain and swirls of the wood. A lot of nights holding swords, serpents swirling around other serpents – that kind of mythology mumbo jumbo.

 

My hands reached towards the surface and – I don’t know what I expected to happen – but nothing did. Just straight up normal wood, rough to the touch, smooth in other places. Warn. Relatively old. So I reached forward and slide it out from its confines, I then blew some of the dusty from its surface. Expecting… I don’t know. An inscription, some message, some sort of treasure map maybe?

 

“Why not take a look inside?” Dexter offered.

 

I shrugged, “May as well I guess.”

 

So I lifted the lid – again – I don’t know what I was expecting. Some sort of magic jewels, diamonds, maybe a Ouija board or something. But what I found was completely off my radar. It contained clothes. A bunch of different kinds of clothes.

 

“Fancy that, a clothing trunk containing clothes,” I chuckled as I shut the lid.

 

I stood up, wiped the dust from my hands, and stretched my back. “There’s no way this thing’s moving very far.”

 

“Well maybe if we both give it a shot.” Dex suggested.

 

I stared at him for a moment. “No I still don’t think that’ll… I live on the third floor in my apartment.”

 

Dex returned my blank stare with a blank stare of his own.

 

“There aren’t any elevators and I don’t much fancy dragging this thing-“

 

“Well I could help.”

 

I raised an eyebrow, “did you just invite yourself over?”

 

“Possibly,” Dexter smirked.

 

“Well all right then. That settles that.”

 

I glowed internally. I will take that golden star of social interaction and relish the hell out of it. It was rare that I was so on the ball like that – my dating life normally consisted of awkward glances across a bar or room and deliberate, planned ignoring. So this was… This was kind of a big deal. I didn’t even care about the trunk and the strange-ass shop in the back of the sketchiest 7-11. This guy was coming home with me.

 

I turned to leave.

 

“Um,” Dex objected.

 

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

 

“The trunk.”

 

“Oh right that.”

 

What followed was possibly the most inelegant, sweaty, cold, and clumsiest carrying session of my life. We managed to carry the thing past several displays (one of which I knocked over) as we left the store. Not to mention almost-dying several times down the frozen street to my parked car huddled pathetically under a half-dead evergreen tree. We wrestled the thing inside my trunk, after pushing down the back seats, and took a few moments to regain our composure after being buffeted by the flurry outside. I turned the key and cranked the heating up full blast.

 

“Well then – now that that’s over…” I sighed rubbing my hands together.

 

Dex smiled, “You mean the easy part – we’ve got three stories worth of anguish. Just you wait.”

 

“Oh right. That. Thanks for reminding me.”

 

“Any time.”

 

I shifted the car in reverse, backed out of the stall, and began the drive home.

 

“So,” I began, “what brought you specifically to Vikram? And his shop of wonders.”

 

Dexter shifted in his seat – was he uncomfortable? Perhaps he didn’t want to talk about it.

 

“Oh you know. I suppose… There’s always something. Right? Things that you’d like to change. Improve. People you’d like to meet,” he glanced at me for a split second before looking away, “that sort of thing. How about you?”

 

“My friend recommended it. Uh – Frank.”

 

“Frank Smith?”

 

“Yeah… You know him?”

 

“We used to work together – at the YMCA. We were lifeguards.” 

 

“No way!”

 

“Small world,” Dexter smiled that smile of his.

 

We continued talking for the rest of the ride home – about a half an hour’s worth. I learned that Dexter had actually recently moved back to the city after taking a job in another province for a couple of years. Said he didn’t really like the feel of where he’d come form and missed much of his childhood friends who still lived around this area – so he moved back a couple of weeks ago.

 

“But it’s been hard,” he admitted, “meeting new people… And stuff. I mean – some of my old ‘friends’ have changed so much. It’s like… I hardly even know some of them anymore.”

 

He was having more trouble that he expected picking up where he’d left off – finding that space that had almost disappeared when he’d moved away. Although he didn’t say so explicitly – I sensed that he felt particularly lonely. Perhaps he didn’t have any family? But I didn’t get a chance to ask as I pulled into my parking spot and we jumped out eager to finish the monumental task that still lay ahead of us.

 

I’m sure I got my fair share of bruises, bumps and scrapes during our little trek up the stairwell. Curses and grunts flew freely until we finally burst through the final door and slid the trunk across the carpeted hallway to my apartment, “307.”

 

“Well… This is me,” I muttered as I pulled out my keys.

 

I opened the door and we slid it inside.

 

It was only a one bedroom, had a small galley kitchen that opened to a small living room. A couple of couches here and there, a decently-sized television hooked up to a plethora of consoles, a laptop, some chairs, a table. Nothing too special, nothing out of the ordinary. I hung my jacket and kicked my shoes off in the hallway only to turn around and notice Dexter hovering near the door – still wrapped in his winter coat.

 

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

 

Dexter rubbed the back of his neck, “Uh… Nothing. Just… I should probably get going.”

 

My heart sunk.

 

“Oh.”

 

“No it’s… It’s not that I’m just not… You know. That kind of guy.” Dexter made a vague gesture towards the bedroom.

 

“Oh. OH. No I didn’t think you were,” I lied.

 

“Here,” he pulled out a piece of paper and wrote something, “call me? We’ll grab a coffee or something.”

 

“Are you okay finding your way home?”

 

“Yeah – I live like two blocks away. No big deal.”

 

A brief awkward silence fell between us before he leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. “Goodbye David. See you soon?”

 

I shut the door behind him.

 

I found myself sinking into my living room couch staring at a blank piece of wall. Was it something I said? Did I do something wrong… Or maybe he really wasn’t that kind of guy. I glanced at the piece of paper before I placed it on my coffee table. I’d give him a call – see where things went. But I was disappointed. I’d definitely let my mind run away with me for a couple of moments there.

 

I stood, and yawned, and dragged myself to the kitchen when my toe caught against something sharp. I yelped more in surprise than pain as I looked down and spied that trunk. Oh right – the whole reason for this. Supposedly. Apparently, according to the unseen Vikram, this is what I needed.

 

I kneeled and opened the lid. Clothing. Same as before. I fished through the different articles and found it held quite  variety. Different kinds of shorts, shirts,  some sports equipment, and a lot of different kinds and sizes of underwear (some more… ‘exotic’ than others). As well as curious leather ensemble that looked significantly out of place and significantly older than anything else in the trunk.

 

I sighed – resigned to close the trunk and stuff it away and likely forget about it before something else caught my eye near the bottom of the small mound of clothes. An envelope.

 

Curiosity getter the better of me, I opened it and found a small folded piece of paper folded on the inside.

 

“Hey David”

 

I almost threw the thing against the fucking wall. How was this addressed to me?.

 

“Hey David,

It’s Vikram.

Sorry I couldn’t be around. Had some more ‘pressing’ matters to take care of if you know what I mean. But I think you’ll find yourself very happy with this trunk.

It’s pretty self explanatory. Basically… Just try something on and see for yourself.

More instructions to follow,

- Vikram”

 

 

I looked on the opposite side of the paper, glanced inside the envelope, and fished around the trunk for any addition ‘instructions’ but there didn’t seem to be anything else.

 

Just try something on? The thought of putting someone else’s clothes on felt kind of weird… But kind of thrilling at the same time. I allowed my fingers to drift through the pile of miscellaneous articles hoping that something would just jump out at me. And something… Did. My fingers found a pair of white tighty-whities about two or three sizes to big on the side of the trunk. I pulled them out and glanced at them dubiously.

 

“It’s not like I have anything else to do,” I said to no one in particular.

 

I stripped down to my own underpants and glanced at my reflection in the small bathroom mirror. Skinny. And much younger looking than my twenty-five years of age would suggest. I had some bags under my eyes, my arms were skin and bones, more skin than bones at that.  I’d always been that kid – the one who could eat a horse and stay the exact same weight, work out and never gain a pound. I compared the width of the tighty-whities to my own. A small versus a extra-large. Much more than just a couple of sizes, you could basically fit an entire person inside of these. Before I slipped them on, I glanced at my basically average cock. Man-scaped optimistically waiting for that one night stand that never happened. I’d sort of gotten in the habit ever since my last boyfriend and never really stopped.

 

I slipped them on. I had to hold up the fabric in bunches just to keep it up. If I were to let go – it’d just fall straight to the ground. It was more than just a little pathetic. It looked like I was drowning in the fabric. “Just try them on he said, no further instructions he said,” I laughed to no one in particular.

 

Then suddenly… Something happened. It’s kind of hard to put into words. It kind of felt like a pulse – like some kind of energy. It radiated from the fabric and flowed and spread through my entire body like a warm wave. And it only grew hotter – focusing first in one space. I watched with disbelieving eyes as slowly the fabric filled with a swelling ass, from almost entirely flat to full on bubble-butt until the underwear fit snugly and comfortably by itself. Then the wave shifted downwards to my chicken legs and it was almost like it was attached to a pump as they slowly started to inflate. I could feel the strength knotting and pushing outwards against my taught skin as my calves and thighs began to inflate to swimmer’s, then even bodybuilder proportions. I had to widen my stance as my legs fought against each other for more and more space.

 

I could feel my lower body getting stronger, I could feel my lower body getting heavier.

 

As if on cue, my cock sprung to full mast, the feeling erotic. Like some sort of build up the likes of which I’ve never felt. Finally the warmth spread to my upper body as one by one abs began to appear and became more and more pronounced, two, four, six. My pecs expanded and took on a life of their own becoming two full balloons of power forming a shelf past which I could no longer see the rest of my body if I looked down. My shoulders widened and mounded with lumps they’d never seen before and my biceps expanded from nothing to apple sized, baseballs, and even further to small watermelons. My whole body seemed to be flexing, building up tension, flexing past its breaking point and expanding further, further, further. Even my neck took on a life of its own and became fearsome and bullish as my traps expanded around it. Even my face became broader, larger, and my chin expanded and became more masculine.

 

I flexed and let out a deep guttural rawr. The feeling of taking up more space, the feeling of my weight as I stumbled around the bathroom that now felt much too small. I flexed my arms and watched the veins bulge around mountains and valleys that now formed my new body.

 

All the while my cock twitched and seemed to follow suit with everything else, growing, and growing, peeking out and becoming a little monster all its own, a little python. It was too much to bear – too many sensations all at once, until at last the mounding tension was released as my cock blew the biggest load I’d ever seen. Spurt after spurt, wet and stickiness everywhere, covering my sink again and again as I stumbled back and fell against the wall lost in the sheer ecstasy of it all.

 

When I’d finally calmed down, when I’d finally regained some of my senses, I found myself sitting against the wall, barely enough room between myself in the bathroom table, breathing hard, my massive chest rising and falling, rising and falling. And my cock still rigid-hard ready for a round two.

 

I slowly lumbered to a standing position and opened the door, finding myself needing to squeeze through sideways just to get through.

 

Everything seemed so much smaller now, everything was so much closer together and I found myself bouncing off things, colliding into walls and furniture all the while the floor groaned and squeaked in its own agony protesting against the new weight it had to bear.

 

I quickly fumbled with my cell phone, now so small against one of my colossal hands, and had to dial several times before my sausage fingers could get the number right.

 

It rang a couple times as I pressed the tiny receiver against an ear. Dexter picked up, “Hello?”

 

“Dexter –“I stopped myself before I continued, my voice so much deeper and sexier than before, “It’s David… Listen I… Need your help with something-“

 

“No need to say anymore, I’m right outside.”

 

I felt my underwear begin to dampen as my cock began to leak copious amounts of precum at the thought. I stumbled towards the door, and opened it. 

 

(To be continued?)

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