Concrete Troubles

Naked, confident, masculine. Kelli knew exactly who and what he was, and only one of those things needed to be rectified. He had done such a good job at the barber shop that his me had just walked out, not caring at all that he had left his clothes behind. A few minutes later, the sun having dried the bath water from his body, Kelli finally realized why every man he was passing on the sidewalk was staring so intensely.

He was intimidating them!

How could he not? His huge tits, his thin waist, and then there was his face. Whatever Princess had done to him in the barber shop, Kelli had never looked so rugged. Tiny nose, thin eyebrows, thick lips, and those cheekbones! The men Kelli passed probably thought there was a professional wrestling show in town!

What Kelli needed to do, for the sake of the men on the street, was find something to wear. Yes, the other pedestrians were doing their best to not act threatened by him, but Kelli could tell it was all a show. Each time one passed and pinched his ass, or squeezed a breast, or even that huge barrel chested man who had pulled Kelli in for a kiss, each one of them was in all likelihood terrified to be around someone as masculine as Kelli.

And so he fixed his eyes in the surrounding businesses. One of them would have something for him. So far he’d passed bars, restaurants, even a gaming centre, but no clothing stores. Still, Girl World had been kind to him so far, so if he pressed in a little more he was sure to get what he needed.

Kelli paused at an intersection, eyeing a pink and purple sign off in the distance to his right. It was too far to make out what it said, but it looked promising, so he turned. Eyes fixed on the sign, he increased his pace to a trot, his large breasts bouncing dramatically with each step.

That’s when he stumbled.

SPLAT!

It wasn’t exactly the noise he had expected to make when he hit the ground, catching himself with his hands out front, but he was glad that he wasn’t hurt.

“Aw man!” A gruff voice from beside him said, “Why’d you have to go and do that for?”

Kelli turned his head and looked. Leaving agains the building on his right was a tired looking construction worker.

“Do what?”

“The concrete,” the man stepped forward, “I just finished that sidewalk. Now I gotta redo it.”

Kelli looked down. It was true. His hands and feet were buried deep into the wet cement of a brand new sidewalk. He could feel the heat of the material on his skin, the squeezing of the concrete as it hardened.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, “I wasn’t watching where I was going, and then I fell…”

“No shit, toots,” the man said, “just stay there and let me figure how to get you out.”

Kelli marvelled about how much he had changed since began his vacation at Girl World. He used to be so self-conscious, so worried about what others thought of him. But a few days in the sun, a few days getting in touch with his masculinity, and Kelli felt like a new man. There he was, hands and feet stuck tight, bare ass pointed up at the world, and he hardly even felt exposed!

“Maybe if I just get behind you…” the construction worker was saying as he straddled the wet concrete, shuffling up behind Kelli.

It was difficult to see what the worker was doing from Kelli’s vantage, but he trusted that everything would work out. The man was, after all, an expert. Kelli just wished he would hurry up. The concrete was hardening fast, and he could feel it pressing in on his hands and feet more and more. Tighter and tighter, not quite painful, but close.

Then Kelli started to hear snapping noises, as if every knuckle on his fingers were being popped.

“I don’t mean to rush you, sir,” Kelli said in a soft voice, knowing that he was already an inconvenience, “but we might want to hurry up. It’s getting kinda tight in there.”

“Whadya think I’m doing?” The man said, grabbing Kelli’s hips with his hands, thrusting his groin into Kelli’s backside for extra momentum. From Kelli’s perspective, that was good. After all, he’d never get free of the man didn’t put his back into it.

Strangely, Kelly couldn’t feel the rough denim or tool belt the man had been wearing. He glanced over at the sidewalk and saw them piled next to the man’s tools. Relief washed over Kelli. The man, noting Kelli’s state of undress, obviously realized that his work clothes would have been quite painful rubbing up against Kelli’s rear end. As it was, all Kelly could feel was the man’s bare body, slick with sweat, thrusting forward and backward.

Not that the construction worker was completely without tools. One last implement, probably something like a smooth, hot pry bar, was between the man’s legs, pressing deeper and deeper into Kelli’s ass, straight between his butt cheeks. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience, but unexpected. But then again, Kelli told himself, how else was the man to pry Kelli out of the concrete if he wasn’t able to use a tool?

The grabbing and thrusting continued, as did the pooping and squeezing. While Kelli would have loved to just enjoy the male bonding experience the construction worker was giving him, he was very concerned about his hands and feet. What had been discomfort was quickly becoming painful. He began to moan with every thrust from the man.

“More,” he would moan, “harder!”

The construction worker responded to the encouragement by complying. He must have realized the struggle that Kelli was in, so he held tighter to Kelli’s hips and began to thrust with abandon.

It was working. Kelli began to feel his hands and feet work their way free.

“Yes!” He squealed, “I’m almost there! Harder! Don’t stop!”

The man then pressed very tightly into Kelli, seemed to shake all over while letting out an intense, guttural groan. Some sort of liquid escaped from the man’s pry bar, perhaps a solvent to break up the concrete, although what good it would do where the man administered it was beyond Kelli. But it didn’t matter. After a moment, the man pulled himself out and away from Kelli, and Kelli found that he was able to pull himself free of his prison!

“Here,” the man said, picking up a hose from the ground next to his tools, “let’s get you cleaned off.”

The water was cold, but Kelli appreciated it. The man didn’t just focus on Kelli’s hands and feet, although he did get them completely washed off first. Then Kelli found himself having. A shower on the sidewalk, rubbing down his leg, his ass, his chest, all while onlookers cheered and shouted encouraging words like “slut” and “skank” and “whore”.

He just loved Girl World.

“I don’t know how I can thank you!” Kelli gushed.

“I think you thanked me enough,” the man said, pulling up his pants, “now better move your ass along before I want to have another go. I’ve got a sidewalk to fix.”

And move along Kelli did. As he walked, he took stock. Strangely, since he had become free, his hands and feet seemed to have changed. All the restrictions, all the popping, must have compressed them. Both his hands and feet seemed tiny, dainty even. Even stranger, his feet no longer hit the ground flat! He was now perpetually walking on the balls of his feet, almost on his toes. It wasn’t painful, not even inconvenient. In fact, it felt as if he’d always walked that way.

Not that it mattered. Tiny hands and feet were exactly the kind of things that drove women wild. There was that expression about shoe size that Kelli couldn’t quite remember, but the gist was that he was supposed to be well endowed. He was sure if it. And standing on his toes? It just made him all that more masculine! Women would look up to him and cream!

Eyes once again fixed to the pink and purple sign, Kelli marched down the sidewalk, this time a bit more careful of where he was treading.