It took me a moment to process what I was seeing, but my body acted before I could think.  My knees buckled and I fell to the floor, pulling myself away from the tiny man at my feet.  Finally, words: “What the fuck!”

The small creature claiming to be Jon started walking closer. “Anna, listen to me – “

“Don’t touch me!  What if it’s contagious?”

“It’s not!   I promise it’s not.  It was something I drank.”

I paused for a moment and closed my eyes, letting my panic subside.  I sat up, take a deep breath, then leaned over, struggling to believe what I was seeing.  In the back of my mind, I was taking stock of it all - the absurdity of the situation, the impossibility of a shrinking potion, the abject terror he must have felt - but at the front of my mind was instinct. I was in awe. I lowered myself to my stomach to study him.

Jon was blushing under my gaze.  He seemed uncomfortable, but I couldn’t help myself - I kept leaning closer.  He was precious.  I wanted to grab him and cradle him into my chest with all my strength, but every bit of my active brain power was devoted to keeping myself restrained.  "I don't know how this is possible," I whispered.  "You're amazing."

That seemed to comfort him.  He gave a shy smile, then stood straight, softening.  “I’d be flattered if I weren’t so terrified.”  I continued to gape at him, stunned.  Resisting the urge to stick out a hand or foot to compare his scale to mine.  Finally, he cleared his throat, breaking the silence.  “Can you help me get off the floor?” he called.

I shook my head, snapping back to reality...or whatever this was.  “Right, yes, of course.”  I got up to my knees and considered my approach – I didn’t know exactly how durable he was, but I suspected he was incredibly fragile.  Then I laid my palm out on the ground for him to climb on, extending my thumb toward him to grab like a railing.  “Is that alright?”

He looked up, smiled, and nodded.  “Thanks,” he called, shakily grabbing my thumb with one hand and holding his tissue-towel around his waist with the other.  I tried my best not to coo at his soft touch, but I’d at least try to give him some scrap of dignity.  Once he was standing firmly in the center of my palm, he gave me a thumbs up, leaving heart feeling like it was made of jelly.

I started to rise, but clearly I moved too quickly – Jon immediately lost his footing, leaving him splayed out on his back as the tissue covering him fell between my fingers. 

The sight before me took my breath away. 

Jon wasn't the sort of man who went unnoticed.  Olive-skinned, strong-jawed with a perfectly trimmed beard, thick hair with a halo of dark curls.  Sparkling brown eyes.  He’d always been tall, but in recent years, he’d built himself into an athlete – defined muscles, with just a dusting of hair over his chest.  Strong and handsome.

Now here he was nude, chest heaving, spread-eagle like a tiny Vitruvian man.  Such masculine strength reduced to a plaything in my palm.  And I immediately saw why he was being modest – his cock was so hard that a light gust of wind could’ve made him explode.

Something profound shifted in me.

I was more aroused than I’d ever been in my life.

Anna, what the fuck is wrong with you?

A few hours had passed and both of us had calmed down somewhat, trying to act as normal as possible given the absurdity of the situation.  Jon had explained to me that the strange drink was an aphrodisiac he’d gotten from a "contact" he'd met in his travels. He explained that it was supposed to be temporary and should have worn off already, but it seemed to be lasting longer than expected.  Regardless, he assured me that it was just a matter of waiting it out.

I asked him more about this "contact," but all he could say was that he'd heard about them through a woman he'd done ayahuasca with. I rolled my eyes - he really was becoming a rich guy.

There were probably more details in there, but I likely missed some things as I imagined what he'd feel like squirming around in my panties. 

He also informed me that the raging hard-on he sported was a side effect of the magical shrinking aphrodisiac.  Out of politeness, I left him on his bed to take care of it privately, quietly hoping I'd have time to relieve my own throbbing arousal while he was at it...but much to my dismay, he'd finished himself off before I could even make it to his door.

Once he was fresh and cleaned off, we pulled together some fabric and fashioned him something that resembled a tiny toga. I then set him on his coffee table and sat on the floor beside him, preparing to measure him with a ruler.  It was partially out of curiosity and partially as a benchmark in case we needed to monitor his regrowth.

Trying to fix his body against the ruler, I noticed him stretching and craning his neck and snorted with laughter.  “Are you seriously trying to stand on your tiptoes to seem taller?”

He sighed, shifting as he recognized how absurd it was.  “Maybe a little…”

“I hate to tell you, big guy, but you’re not clearing six foot.”  That got a laugh out of him.  “Now stand still.”  He complied and stood against the ruler and I leaned in close, assessing him as I checked his height. Sure enough, I could still see his protruding erection, even though it'd only been about 15 minutes since his orgasm.  “Three inches on the dot,” I informed him.  He flinched, as if he was only now realizing how much he’d shrunken.  “And you’re still hard as a rock.”

He sighed.  “I know.  That damn aphrodisiac.”

“Do you need me to leave you in your room again?”

“No, it’s fine,” he sighed, slumping onto the soft, clean sock he was sitting on.  “I’ll probably be hard again in a few minutes.  I think I just need a distraction.”

"Sure, let's watch something."  It felt absurd to even attempt the distraction, but there wasn't much else to do.  I reached over for the remote and reached over to him, gently patting his back with my fingertip.

As he leaned into my finger, I once again processed his scale.  He was utterly powerless.  Yet another wave of shameful arousal stormed through me.  “Sorry this isn’t exactly the fun, sexy time you were expecting," he muttered.

I had to laugh.  "We've just discovered that magic is real, you're stuck at 3 inches tall, and you feel bad that I can't fuck you?  Please." 

We’d been watching a movie together for about 30 minutes and I couldn't even remember what we'd chosen.  I hadn’t noticed a frame of it.  All I could do was stare at Jon as he sat propped on the coffee table, thinking about all of the ways he could pleasure me at his new size.  I was horrified with myself – my entire world should've been turned upside-down, but instead all I could think about was how to use my tiny friend as a toy.

As I kept my eyes on him, I didn't think he was paying much attention either.  At first I thought his head was spinning from the day's revelations, but I could see him periodically look down at his still-raging erection and shift uncomfortably in his seat.  Maybe I was projecting, but I began to suspect there was something he wasn’t telling me.

If we really only had one night with him at this size, I needed to at least shoot my shot.

One sexual interest Jazz and I never really shared was foot play.  She'd indulge me, planting kisses on my soles as she worked her way to my pussy or massaging them after a long day, but she was humoring me.  And though she offered me a million things no one else ever could, I often missed Jon's obsession with worshipping my feet.  It drove me absolutely wild.

Part of me doubted his interest would hold for the pair of giant soles I was about to present, but it was worth a try. I pulled off my socks and put my feet up on the coffee table behind my tiny companion, slamming them down with just enough force to startle him.  I looked up, pretending I didn't notice him - but I was slightly disappointed when he simply shifted back and started watching the TV again.

It didn't take long for me to notice that he was actively trying not to look so I subtly encouraged his attention, idly wiggling my toes over his head like flags at full mast.  I watched him fidget under the looming shadows my feet cast until he finally stood and turned to me, arms crossed in suspicion.  "You're doing that on purpose, aren't you?"

"What are you talking about?" I lied, pausing the TV and meeting his gaze.

I could sense him weighing whether or not it was worth saying anything, but he stood firm, looking up at my toes.  Now that he was no longer trying to resist, I could see him falling under their spell - his eyes glazed over and his hand started to move down toward his erect cock.

"I was just testing the waters," I explained, my loins burning with desire as he started to masturbate.  "But it looks like you enjoy being tiny at my feet."

With that, he walked up to my sole, leaning over to kiss them - only for me to pull both feet away.  In all the years I'd known him, I'd never seen him respond to anything with such desperation - he fell to his knees, groaning in agony.  "Please," he begged, still slowly stroking himself.  "Let me lick them clean."

I raised an eyebrow, considering the absurdity of his request given his scale.  "And how exactly do you intend to do that?"

"I'll take as long as I need to," he promised, breathless.  "Just let me serve you. Let me explore your body."

He'd always been intensely submissive, but this was something else.  And it lit something in me on fire.  "Fine," I relented.  "But I get to explore you first."