The retreat was a little cove of ferns and bushes, sunk into the ground and tucked away from sight, reminiscint of Bathsheba and Troy's courting night. Used for lurid and intimate acts on college grounds, many of the seniors had visit its shady groves for secret excitements, while the others at least knew of its fabled presence. Luke had been waiting there for an hour and a half when Dean arrived, poking his ways through the undergrowth like a bold adventurer, or a messenger from the front line. The two looked at each other before speaking. Luke was topless - it was a hot day yes, but Dean figured the reason was more related to the sinister act about to occur. For as much as Dean resented Luke's wrathful and vindictive nature, he inwardly coveted it. The opposing jock was slightly taller, crown with spiky blond hair always styled to messy perfection. His face was sharp and rugged, lined with masculine aggression with his cool blue eyes commanding authority. His chest was sculpted from sandstone, his abs moreso, while his arms were carved in perfect ratios for their girth to their length. Though his shorts hid it, Luke's package was a fearsome entity, a hulking mass of pure man; plump, pendulous testicles supporting a thick, uncut tool, as juicy as it was smooth to the touch, its purple head succulently moistened always ready for a pair of soft lips. As much as Dean loved his teammate's cock, it was his tan ass that was his greatest asset. It protruded from his body enough to tease yet not to be unsightly, perfectly filling his thin shorts. Between the rock hard muscles sat the dirty pink ring, a gateway to carnal tastes so exotic and exhilerating Dean could not wash them from his tongue for hours on end. On the rare occasions Luke has permitted him entry, he had feared the dominant male's taut buttocks would rip his tool clean from his body, such was the tightness of Luke's shapely rear. Despite all this, Dean knew Luke's two weakness: first that he has a weakness for Dean's unique brand of foot sweat, for while Luke's feet were beautifully crafted yet revoltingly scented, they paled in comparison to Dean's godly arches and slender toes.
The other weakness was pride, yet in this situation, the aura of dominance that surrounded the shirtless jock was as intimidating as it was sexy. With his usual confident self put aside, Dean approached his mate to present his offering.
"About time you showed up. I'm fucking starving." He says, hotly. You hear this from Dean's pocket, and you feel a flutter in your heart. This is the voice of your predator, and he's certainly in business.
"I'm sure it will be worth the wait. It's not everyday you get to eat a person" Replied Dean cooly, trying to resist Luke's brutish charms.
"Maybe not yet, but seeing as this shrinking stuff works, there could be shrunken teen on the menu every day!"
"Dude, you're fucked up."
"You love it. You'll be tempted to try it when you're done watching me, I bet it's gonna' be fuckin' hot!" Dean feels himself being won over by Luke's persuasive enthusiasm, quietly contemplating what is in store for the shrunken guy in his pocket, thinking to the juicy pucker he loves so much tenderly stretching around a man shaped lump, fresh from a journey inside the athlete's perfect abdomen. "So, where is he?" Asks Luke, stepping up to Dean, almost threateningly. A set of giant fingers cup around your sitting form inside the pocket, delicately rising you up out of the darkness and into the cool shade of a hot summer's day. You immediately lock your eyes onto the large flat plate of Luke's golden abdomen, crowned by 4 smaller rectangles of solid muscle. Behind those rigid slabs is the hot, sloppy path you'll soon be forced down, separated from the living world by nothing more than an inch of rich, bronze flesh. You rise past the massive pectorals, sloping up to the thick, taut throat, bulging with Luke's Adam's apple. You're brought up between their two faces, looking upon the menacing yet gorgeous face of the jock who plans to destroy you. He smiles wickedly, placing his palm beneath Dean's. Dean dutifully complies, tilting his hand so you slide off it, falling a short distance before landing upon the rough surface of Luke's open palm.
You are his now. The loving alliance you had between you and Dean is gone, now you are a meal for a greater being. Once a man, then a shrunken friend, possibly a toy, but always there was respect. Now there is only one role for you: food. Luke brings you to his face, carefully inspecting you. You can smell his hot breath, the scent of bacon and sausage, mixed with the stale odor of his throat and spit. That was his breakfast, you'll be joining what's left of it soon as his lunch. You have never been more afraid or excited in your life; the dizzing apprehension of climbing the first hill of a roller coaster, knowing fully there is only a drop at the end.
"So you want to be eaten, do you?" He asks, somewhat quizzically.
You conquer your nerves and reply boldy in the face of the awe-inspiring jock. "Yes."
He smirks and looks up at Dean. "You hear that Dean? You were right, this little toerag wants to be eaten by me!" He turns back to you and leans in. His nose almost touching you. "Well you know what?..."
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