Feuding Footballers

This story is purely fiction and is not a commentary on the sexuality of the said footballers or their private lives. Like I said, it's purely FanFic so just enjoy
Also a friend made this picture to go along with the story. Hope you guys like it
http://www.coiledfist.org/gallery/albums/Kierancrushesu_personalgallery/joehartm...


Joe Hart, England Goalkeeper (Giant): http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e95/zagreb1111/2b2330a8.jpg
Frank Lampard, England Midfielder (Tiny): http://www.therichest.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/frank-lampard.jpg

Joe Hart smirked as he easily saved yet another shot from Frank Lampard. He was the best goalkeeper in the Premiership and he knew it and so did Frank, which was why he had been trying extra hard in order to knock the cocky keeper down a peg or two. Joe might be good but in his own eyes he was far above anyone on the team and this arrogance had gotten to Frank, one of the veteran players. He knew the younger guys were often full of themselves and himself and Gerrard, and Beckham before them, had helped the new players mature and become better because of it. However so far Joe had been pretty stubborn to all attempts by Frank and Steven to get him to calm down which was why Lampard was now just trying to deflate his ego by trying to beat him where it hurt. The rest of the training camp was now deserted, the other players having long gone home. “That’s enough for now” Lampard said, spitting on the ground in annoyance that his plan so far looked to be failing. Joe had saved 90% of his shots! “Well done mate I’ll see you next week!” As he turned he took a swig of his water bottle and didn’t see Joe nearly beaming with excitement and anticipation as to what was about to happen. Frank’s gut suddenly clenched in severe pain and the footballer bent double and gripped his abs and flinched. He heard slow, heavy footsteps coming behind him and realised it was Joe. Frank flinched again as pain erupted all across his body. “Something wrong?” Joe asked coolly, stopping just behind him. Suddenly Frank turned and swiped his arm at Joe who stepped back with a confident smile on his handsome face. “You bastard did you put something in this!” Frank yelled, throwing his water bottle away as yet another wave of pain coursed through his entire body. Frank crawled toward Joe who stepped back, his smug grin still plastered on his face. “None of this would have happened if you had just kept your Southern nose out of my business!” Joe spat at Frank who was now twitching in pain on the floor at his feet. “Now you will have wished you’d just kept out of it and you will soon learn to do as you are told!” Frank moaned loudly once more which caused Joe to grip his package through his shorts and let out a little whimper of lust. Frank then blacked out totally as horrific and weird yet amazing, changes began to happen to his defenceless body.

A few hours later

Joe lay down on his settee, clad only in a pair of football shorts and stretched out, enjoying the luxury after a long day spent training. As he turned on the TV he felt something twitch beneath his huge balls and smiled with pleasure as he remembered what was down there…

Frank awoke with a snap. He was immersed in total darkness and it was incredibly hot. His head still stung and his mouth was bone dry however he was covered in his clammy sweat. Suddenly he realised he was naked! His sweaty, nude body quivered in confusion as he tried to pull himself free of something very warm that was lying across his legs. However his world then shifted and he screamed in disbelief as he was tossed around like a rag doll in a washing machine. He flew into the air and landed on something very soft, warm and round. Curious and totally perplexed at his surroundings he rubbed what he was on very gently. Whatever it was that he was laid on, quivered and stirred slightly as he touched it. It was also kind of wet but not as soaking as he was. His black hair stuck to his forehead as he prodded the rubbery, warm mass he was sat upon. And then a beam of light entered his world and he saw in horror what was beneath him. He was sat on top of a pair of huge balls. He yelled in sheer fright as they moved once again and he gripped one of the sparse blond hairs tightly. As soon as he realised what he was holding onto he recoiled in disgust and fell from the top of the giant testicle right to the bottom. He tried to drag himself away but the weight of the two huge balls and the massive, thick, trunk like cock above meant the slippery, featureless silk shorts became an impassable ramp and every time he attempted to get away he slid back down toward them. Far above he heard a booming laughter as whoever the balls belonged to chuckled at the TV. Or maybe they were enjoying the plight poor Frank was in! Suddenly it dawned on him that he knew that voice. It was Joe Hart. Joe had shrunk him! He was in the pants of his enemy! And he despised it beyond words. All his struggling had alerted Joe and he was happy that his little prisoner was now finally awake. It had given him great satisfaction to have shrunk Lampard down to his tiny size and he intended to extract full retribution, for Frank trying to knock him down a peg, on him. If Joe got his way Lampard would be back to normal size in no time but his gorgeous body would have broke the Chelsea player into being his bitch no matter what size he was! Lampard would he hopelessly devoted to Joe and, that thought inflated his ego even more! With a satisfied smirk he reached beneath his pendulous balls and pulled the wriggling player free…

Lampard had the wind knocked out of him as Joe’s giant fingers grabbed him tightly. He felt himself being pulled upward quickly. As much as he was relieved the have escaped Joe’s huge cock and balls alive he was even more scared at what the giant God wanted to do with him next! “Calm down” Joe cooed as Frank kicked and punched the air wildly. “You aren’t going anywhere and you will need to conserve your energy my little friend! Well, little bitch from now on! I was getting sick and tired of you trying to act like a mentor, I don’t need anyone to try and rain on my parade, I’m the best Goalkeeper in the Premiership and you can’t even deny that! I’ve won awards for it yet you remain just a “good” Midfielder and that’s all. Infact there’s talk of dropping you from the England team entirely! You’re getting too old and everyone knows Gerrard is far better than you!” Frank had bitten Joe’s trap and went red with rage. How dare this cocky shit tell him he was a bad player! All he did was showboat for the cameras and he’d become the teams new golden boy overnight! However it wasn’t like he was in a position to argue but he did so none the less in an attempt to salvage his nearly non existent pride. “Fuck you Joe!” He yelled rather pathetically. “The shrinking will wear off and when it does I’m going to kill you!” Joe just laughed at Lampard’s puny attempts at vengeance and didn’t even see it as a constructive use of his time to respond! Instead he opened his mouth wide and dangled Lampard above it! “Enjoy” Joe said, blasting Lampard with a gust of his meaty, masculine breath. Lampard screamed in sheer terror as he was dropped straight into Joe’s awaiting maw. As soon as he hit the horrible, sticky tongue then Joe smacked shut his plump lips, sealing his tiny team-mate inside. Poor Lampard was thrown around inside like a plastic bag in the wind, Joe’s huge tongue tossing him all around his mighty mouth. He was soon utterly drenched in his enemies’ vile saliva, coated head to toe in smelly, salty spit. Saliva seeped into his mouth and into his eyes, making him gargle and cry out in pain and confusion as he was buffeted about. He was smacked of one of Joe’s molars, winding him and bruising his side badly but still Joe did not let up his horrible torment. He wanted Lampard to pay dearly and besides, he liked the taste of his little friend! However he finally had enough and, after a good 5 minutes, he spat the tiny footballer back out onto his palm. Frank collapsed, nursing his side and wincing in pain and exhaustion. His ears still rang from the horribly loud noise of Joe’s heartbeat and his huge tongue. “Get up now!” Barked Joe ruthlessly, taking yet more sadistic pleasure in watching Frank’s suffering. Frank tried to get onto his feet but collapsed back down straight away. He was far too tired and wounded to do anything at all. Hart tutted in disgust and impatience at the crumpled player lying on his hand. He could crush him right now, between his huge fingers and palm and no-one would ever know but were would be the fun in that? No, he wanted to make him suffer for a while longer now. The kick Joe was getting from dominating and humiliating his idol was too much, his cock was rock hard from all the excitement and he never wanted it to end! He was sure that it would only be a matter of hours before Lampard caved in utterly, his mind warped and destroyed from all the horrific torture the Joe doled out to him and then he would become his totally devoted little bitch!

Frank finally managed to rock back onto his legs after about 10 minutes. He was surprised Joe had allowed him this breather, he had expected death but now he knew that his giant captor was both ruthless and smart. Death was an option Frank now wanted and because of this, Joe would never allow it to happen. “Finally!” Boomed Joe, beaming with joy at the awakened little slave below. “I thought you would never get up! Now slave I know you still hate me but after what you are about to do for me next I can 100% reassure you that you will love me for the rest of your life! You seeI’ve always wanted a little guy to give my big feet a rub after a long hard day of training. Well I say training; it’s practically just me showing you up really!” Frank bit his tongue, learning from last time that’s it’s better to let the egotistical jock gloat rather than to fight back. He didn’t want to be punished. Little did he know but this type of behaviour; a willingness to be subservient in front of Joe out of fear and reverence was basic slave training, Joe’s plan was working and Frank was starting to learn his place. Joe pulled of one of his sweaty football socks and wriggled his feet in the air. He walked over to the sofa, sat down and placed Framk next to his foot which was resting on the coffee table. At this distance Frank could smell the terrible odour of a jock’s foot. It was the days sweat all heated up by being stuck in a tight football boot for hours. Frank thought his feet stank but Joe’s were far, far worse! However he was so tired and dazed that he didn’t cough or retch; he just didn’t have the energy anymore. Nor however, could he physically drag himself over toward Joe’s huge toes and give his sole a good rub like the giant player was expecting. However Joe didn’t show any anger and simply moved his foot toward Lampard. Frank saw it coming but couldn’t move out of the way. The huge, stinking foot came down on him slowly and he was pressed against the hard glass of the coffee tabletop. Joe laughed as he crushed the pathetic man under his mighty sole to the point were Frank was sure his tiny bones would snap and his bodily fluids burst open like a popped balloon. Death again did not come and Lampard had to face the fact he was now lying, fully immobile under a man’s foot. “Whilst you’re there you best do something to alleviate the boredom!” Joe chirped up, giggling to himself. “May I suggest licking my toes? That is of course if you value your life. Believe me there’s smellier and far worse places to be than under my feet!” Lampard had a vision of himself being ground between the guys sweaty, bronze arse cheeks as he trained and gave up completely. He began to lick the sweaty sole, ignoring the horribly cheesy taste. Nothing mattered now except Joe. His assimilation was nearing completion. As he swallowed more and more vile gunk from between his Master’s toes his mind began to change. He perked up, becoming transfixed on the task in hand and he went from depressed and suicidal to a mad, happy in a Zealot type of way. Utterly in love with his Master he gobbled up a piece of lint, swallowing the salt drenched cotton and begging for more. Joe’s cock throbbed as his toe’s and soles were systematically cleaned by the eager tiny, partly from the feeling of getting someone to lick his feet but mainly because he’d done it. He’d broken Frank Lampard. He now had a man under his control, someone who would, from now on, do everything he ordered. He could feel Frank’s tiny boner digging into his now sparkling clean sole and knew that letting the tiny release his load would be kind and rewarding. However he was a sick and cruel Master and letting Frank’s balls swell with unused semen as the guy itched to wank would be the perfect punishment. Content with Frank’s job he left the tiny on the table and grabbed the shrinking antidote from the counter in the kitchen. He poured a drop onto his finger but, before he gave it to Frank he had to make sure the little man was totally in love with him.

“Who am I?” Joe asked, smiling.
“You are my godly master!” Squeaked Frank, staring up at him with devoted, lovestruck eyes.
“Good” Joe continued “What is your name and what is your purpose in life?” He asked.
“I am Frank, your tiny slave and my sole purpose in life is to please and serve you anyway you want and obey every command!” Joe laughed once more and held out his finger so Frank could drink the growth potion.

1 Week later

“Laters mate, catch you sometime next week!” Frank said to Gerrard who left the changing rooms with a wave. It had been a week since Frank’s shrinking experience and his life had changed radically in every way. He practically lived at Joe’s now and did every household chore the God wanted. The best was when he was rewarded at the end of every day with a long, rough and amazing fuck up the arse. The first couple had caused him pain but Joe had torn open his virgin arse with his massive dick and now Frank was Hart’s little cock slut, a title he relished. And for the days when he didn’t sleep over, his Master always gave him the boxers and socks he’d wore that day in order to have Frank wanking over him every time he felt a little horny. The plan had worked and Joe had his slave. Frank turned around and Joe stepped out of the shower, dripping wet and in a towel. “Think we can get him?” He asked, nodding at the door that Gerrard had just vacated through. Lampard nodded eagerly. “He’s foolish just like I was” He droned in his slave voice “But he will cave. Far, far easier than I did.” Hart did his characteristic cocky, evil laughed and dropped his towel. His thick cock bounced free and Frank’s eyes bulged with lust. “Dinner time” Joe said and Frank dropped to his knees.

Part 2
http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1839060-Feuding-footballers-part-2...