Manmaers

THURSDAY

George and Mike sat in the car, neither saying a word. This was the third time in as many weeks that George Willard was called in to fetch his pathetic step-son. He had gotten his ass kicked again. Of course, he was still family and George loved him as his own. He knew when he married Bonnie that she was a package deal and he had come to care greatly for his new step-children Leslie and Michael. He just wished that Mike would stick up for himself once in a while. Sure, he wasn't intimidating physically, but the kid bent like a blade of grass. No spine. No balls.

Jesus, he's 18 now. He should start acting like a man, George reflected. He had done his best to be a role model. He had encouraged Mike to work out, offered to pay for a gym membership or boxing lessons. But there was nothing to be done. The kid was so meek he seemed to even have an aversion to building his own strength. George glanced at the lanky, bony boy folded in the seat next to him, his slightness hidden under baggy black clothing. His normally messy black hair was even more disheveled than usual. He was staring vacantly out the car window. George could see a bit of dried blood by his ear and it tugged at him. Those fucking administrators are cowards and idiots.

Don't worry, kid. We'll figure something out.

They pulled up to the driveway. George cut the engine and they sat in silence for a moment. George heaved a sigh.

"Go ahead and take a shower. Come down and eat whenever you're ready." Mike averted his eyes. "I figure you might want some time to yourself, and it's okay if you do."

His step-son muttered something like. "whateverthanksiguess..." before cracking the door and half slithering, half falling out of the car. George was briefly perplexed by both the graceful and awkward nature of the movement. What an odd duck.

The two men came through the door and Mike went straight to the upstairs bathroom. His head was stooped and he seemed to be holding back tears. George watched him go up the stairs, shook his head and headed to the kitchen.

Bonnie was in the kitchen already working on dinner. He had no idea where she found the energy. She worked an early morning shift and was usually home fairly early as well. Even with what he had just come from, he couldn't help but think how lucky he was. He hung back and took her in. She was about 5' 7", her black hair cut short in a professional, but playful pixie cut. Of course, George's eyes didn't stay on her hair. Even in her house pants, Bonnie's ass was a force of nature. Pert, large, and perfectly sculpted. At 39, it was evident she took very good care of herself. Her mother had been very heavy and died young from complications due to diabetes. Bonnie swore she would never fall to the same fate, so she studied up on nutrition and health. She tried dance classes, yoga, zumba, jazzercise, the works. However, she found that weightlifting was what she enjoyed the most. As a result, she had a lean and dense body. Hell, she might have been stronger than George. After all, he was in an office all day and the atrophy was getting to him. He was already starting to get a little 'beer gut'.

George walked up behind his wife and gently wrapped his arms around her waist. He gave her a quick peck on the neck and greeted her.

"How is he?" She asked.

"Pretty rough." He admitted. "But I think the real damage is internal. I don't know where a kid is supposed to find any confidence in that kind of environment."

"I guess it's harder for some." George could see this pained her. He knew that High School had been quite easy for Bonnie. She had been fairly popular, did alright academically, and was a star athlete. Her son's situation was a challenge for her to grasp at first. She turned to face her husband. "Why can't they just leave my baby alone?"

"I'll take care of it." Now that she'd turned around, his eyes were drawn ever so briefly to Bonnie's chest. Despite her athletic build, she still had pretty large breasts that stood up proudly.

"How? Name something we haven't already tried." Her face was steady, but her voice wavered.

"I don't know. I just know that I'm not going to take this lying down." He meant it. From the softening expression on Bonnie's face, it was clear that she believed him. She smiled and leaned up to kiss him.

Dinner was nearly silent. Mike had assumed that by this point his mom knew what had happened as she hadn't asked how his day went. Not that he would have been keen to answer any other day, but today especially he was glad she didn't bother asking. He mostly pushed his food around his plate. As usual, he didn't have much of an appetite. He loved his mom's cooking and always found the food delicious, but he didn't eat much in general and his chronic nerves didn't help.

Bonnie looked over at her son. He had kept his head down for most of the meal. Poor boy... she thought, I feel so powerless to help you. I hope it gets better for you soon. It wasn't fair. Michael was a good kid. He kept to himself. What had he done to deserve, let alone provoke, this kind of behavior? Bonnie shrugged to herself. She supposed there were some things about boys that she may never understand.

George just tried to keep remembering to breathe. He tried to keep at bay the churning anger in his stomach. He had dealt with his own bullies when he was Michael's age, but he was also more athletic at that age than his step-son. He stood a chance in a fight. Mike? The thought would be comical if it weren't so sad. Maybe it would be good if his older sister spent some time with him. George had been thinking of surprising his wife by having Leslie come for an unannounced visit. That might be good for Mike. She's a tough girl, maybe it'll rub off on him. But even that felt like a reach. Come on, think George, think...

FRIDAY

Work had been uneventful and thankfully no calls came from the school. George had actually managed to finish his work a little early so he ducked out at around 4 and just wandered around downtown for a little while. He wasn't sure what he might have been looking for. He guessed that as long as he was out of options he might as well just keep his eyes open for new ones. So without much thought, he walked out of his office building, turned left, and just started walking.

This stretch of road was vaguely familiar to him as he had stopped at several of those restaurants for lunch at one point or another. The shops in between, however, were less familiar to him. A kitchen supply store, a janky, no-name electronics shop, further down some kind of adult arcade. He was just starting to get into truly unfamiliar territory when he was blindsided by an overwhelming waft of incense. After catching his breath, he turned to look at the source of the smell.

The shop was small. Very small. Probably not any wider than a semi trailer. The facade was mostly wood, wood that had faded significantly with time. The window by the door said "Curios and Gifts" in chipped gold and white letters.

Someone left the store in a rush and George had caught the door as it swung open. Without giving it much more thought, he stepped inside.

The smell was less intense. Or maybe he was just used to it now. Either way, now he was inside so he just started glancing at the shelves. Various statuettes made of different metals, bone, ivory. One shelf just had several scrolls. By the front door, the more modern souvenir stand looked very out of place. Gotta have something for everyone, I guess. Thought George.

"Exactly!" Came a voice from the back. George started slightly, then turned in the voice's direction. Behind the counter in the back of the store, a fairly short man stepped through a door between two bookcases. "But you're a townie, so you're not here for a souvenir."

"How did you know I was a townie?" Asked George. He inspected the man. No discernible country of origin, he didn't appear to have an accent. He wore simple black slacks and a black tee shirt. His eyeliner was intense. Other than that, it was remarkable how unremarkable he was.

"I have an instinct about these things." Said the stranger, matter-of-factly.

George shrugged. "Have any instincts about why I'm here?"

"People don't usually find my store unless they have a problem. Is there something I can help you with?" The man seemed very sincere. His concern actually gave George a sense of ease he hadn't remembered feeling for a while.

"I do have a problem." George was about to spill the beans when he realized it might be better to keep his son out of the discussion for now. "I'm not sure if you can help me, but I've been feeling..." He put on his best 'embarrassed' face. "Less manly lately. You know, just kind of weak."

"I see." Said the stranger. "Not to worry, I deal with this kind of thing all the time, especially with men your age. Now is this purely a mental problem or are you wanting to improve physically as well?"

Physical improvement? He was starting to lay it on thick. Oh well, as long as we're already making crazy wishes... "Yeah, that's great."

"I have just the thing." He disappeared into the back for a few moments before returning with an ordinary orange prescription bottle. It was filled about a third of the way with what looked like a dozen or so capsules. "This will have you feeling like a new man in short order. Your wife with definitely thank you." He said, nodding to my ring. "Now it's very powerful, so be sure to just take one pill in the evening right before sleep."

George started to reach for the bottle absent-mindedly, but stopped and looked at the man. "How much?"

"Tell you what." This was the first time the stranger had seemed like a salesman to him. He suddenly broke out in this larger than life grin. "How about you take these for a spin, then come back and pay me what you think they're worth."

"Little confident, aren't we?"

"Isn't that what you're looking for? Oh and one more thing." He put the bottle in George's hand. "Keep this stuff away from your kids." He winked and George responded with a semi-forced laugh. He smiled and nodded to the stranger before he turned and left.

George did not remember driving home. He just remembered leaving the shop and now he was here in his bathroom staring at the bottle of pills in his hand. Well... he had them, now he just had to figure out how to get Mike to take them. Fortunately, his step-son was on a handful of prescriptions already. He opened the cabinet and surveyed his options. After a few minutes, he decided that the allergy pills were the closest in size, shape, and color to the pills he'd received from the old man. In fact, it almost seemed like the pills were made to mimic the generic look of the pill. Plus most of the kid's allergies were out of season right now so he probably wouldn't notice. He counted out the amount that was already in the bottle, flushed the allergy medication, and swapped in the new stuff.

As he walked downstairs to join his family for dinner, his phone rang. He cursed to himself as he saw it was his boss. That was never a good call to get on a Friday evening. Something was wrong, and that usually meant traveling to another branch.

"Georgie! How the hell are ya? Bill Barsko. Say, we're in a bit of a bind. Chicago is fucking up their inventory somehow and they need one of our guys out there."

"Chicago? Aw, hell..." George took a heaping sigh. It would be worth the extra pay. It always was. "Okay, for how long?"

"It's a real mess, could be a four day job."

"Send me the flight details tonight."

"You're a real lifesaver, George!"

"Don't worry about it." He hung up and finally made it to the kitchen where the meal had already begun. Mike was his usual quiet self. Though, he seemed a little less traumatized today than he did last night. He picked at his measly portions on his plate with no real desire to eat. Bonnie had just sat down.

"Well that was Bill. They need some help out at the Chicago branch. I'll probably have to leave tomorrow morning." His wife was clearly not tickled with the news.

"How long are you going to be there?" She asked.

"He said it could be a four day job." This time he had a preemptive strike planned. "But! I had a lovely call with Leslie over lunch and she says she can come down and visit for a few days."

Even Mike seemed to perk up at this news. He always seemed a little more lively around his sister. She had an infectious, positive energy about her. Bonnie was definitely excited.

"Ooooh! We haven't seen her in so long! When's she getting in?"

"Don't know just yet, she might have to cover a shift tomorrow. But if she does, she'll just head down after."

"Won't it be nice to have your sister around, Mike?" Bonnie asked her son. She got a grumbled 'yeah' out of him in response. She knew it was genuine, though. Being excited isn't 'cool' when you're a teenager. "Oh, by the way Mike. I refilled your allergy prescription yesterday, so be sure to take it before you go to bed."

George's heart skipped a little bit. It had just dawned on him that he had set out to deceive and drug his son with a substance he knew absolutely nothing about. Was he really this desperate? He thought back to the car ride the day before. Yes. Yes he was that desperate.

That night, he lay with his wife keeping in mind he would be without her for a few days. Their lovemaking that night was a little more forceful that usual. Most of the time, it was a slow, sensuous exploration. Tonight included some actual fucking. Mostly missionary, but George felt like he lost himself more than once with his wife that night.

Mike shared a wall with his parent's bedroom and most of the time it wasn't a problem. Tonight though, sounds filtered through that started to churn his stomach in an unfamiliar way. Maybe it was the allergy medication. Something had seemed different about this new cycle of pills. They looked mostly the same, but he could swear the new ones were slightly bigger. The size made him worry about the dosage, but he stuck to the directions on the bottle. "Two pills, two times a day. Once at night time before bed. Once in the morning upon waking."

Maybe his stomach was just upset because he hadn't eaten much. Maybe he could get away from the noises of his mother's soft moans and make a snack in the kitchen. He got up and walked downstairs and looked in the fridge. There were actually quite a few leftovers in there. His mom had been cooking a lot this week as she was trying to curb their food budget by making more from scratch. Plus, she felt empowered in her health knowing what was in her food.

As he looked at the assortment in front of him, he felt a sensation like the bottom of his gut dropping down several inches and making a loud growl. He grabbed a chicken dish from Wednesday night and popped it in the microwave. After an unusually agonizing 90 seconds, he took a bite. The flavor hit straight to his brain like a shot of electricity. He hastily took in a few huge forkfulls before setting the dish down in order to grab another dish from the fridge and begin heating it up. Then he picked it back up and resumed eating. He couldn't remember the last time food had tasted this good! He couldn't stop eating.

A small part of his brain became alarmed when he went back and heated a third dish, then a fourth, then a fifth. After about an hour of this, he skipped the microwave altogether and started eating whatever he could see out of the fridge cold. Eventually his mind just went blank and it became a carnal frenzy. He blacked out.