“So I said to him,” said Clare to Ashley the following morning, “if you don’t turn me around on this bed and fuck me like it’s your last night on Earth, I’m going out to the club to find someone who will.” 

“No!” said Ashley dramatically. “You did not say that to him!”

“Sure did,” said Clare nonchalantly. “Anyway, what’s he gonna do? Leave me? Haha, please. The old bastard’s wrapped around my little finger. And it wouldn’t even matter if he was the regional manager of a weapons manufacturer instead of Fizzy…it wouldn’t matter how much power he seemed to have in the outside world. Because I know. I know who really calls the shots.”

“Damn!” said Ashley, shaking her head in admiration. “You just lay down the law, don’t you?” 

“It’s what I do,” said Clare, flipping her long red hair. “Especially when I have to because I have subpar, incompetent employees like Timmy who are always…” and she was about to say “late” because, as usual, she had been eyeing the clock, waiting until it ticked past nine so she could berate Timothy for showing up his usual five or ten minutes late. But she hadn’t finished her sentence this morning, because, right at the stroke of nine, in walked Timothy in a fresh-pressed shirt, beaming at the two women.

“Morning, Ashley! G’morning, boss!” he said brightly as he headed over to his desk. Clare and Ashley stared after him. 

“Wellll!” said Clare after a few moments, “on time this morning, I see! Good on you, Springer!” 

“Thanks!” said Timothy, smiling widely. “I got some good sleep last night.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Clare, secretly a bit disappointed that she couldn’t begin the day belittling him. Ashley, however, wasn’t really listening to the conversation. She was staring hard at Timothy. 

“I finally got that batch right last night,” Timothy said to Clare. “It took me almost until midnight, but I finally got it.” 

“I appreciate the dedication, Springer,” said Clare. “Just, try and see if we can keep that up today, ok?” 

“You got it, boss,” said Timothy happily. He had turned to devote his attention to a stack of papers on his desk when he felt Ashley’s presence directly behind him. He turned in his chair and looked up from his seating position. Ashley was standing directly in front of him, looking down at his body with a strange look on her face. 

“Uh, hi Ashley,” said Timothy. “Anything wrong?” He felt a little twinge in his brain that seemed to reverberate down into his chest. He had shrunk, yes, but surely she couldn’t tell…? And yet there she was, staring at him like that. His heart started to beat in his chest faster and faster with excitement. 

“No, nothing’s wrong,” said Ashley as she continued to stare down at him curiously. “Nothing’s….wrong…..” and her voice trailed off as her eyes still studying him.

“Well, ok then,” said Timothy, and turned back to the stack of papers. Ashley stood rooted to her spot for another moment or two, and then she snapped her fingers as if she had just remembered something. 

“Oh, right! I almost forgot. Timmy, could you show me again how much phosphoric acid you were using yesterday? I know it was the wrong amount but I was just curious what the amount was…I actually thought it made the batch taste a little…tropical or something. Might be an interesting idea to pitch at the next board meeting for a new flavor.”

“Uhhhh, sure,” said Timothy, caught off guard that Ashley thought one of his mistakes could actually prove useful. He stood up and made to move towards the chemical shelf. 

“Aha!” cried Ashley as soon as he’d stood up. “I knew it!” 

“Knew…knew what, Ashley?” How could she have caught on so quickly? His heart was racing and he could already feel the blood descending into his cock. 

“You shrunk!” she blurted out. “You’re no taller than I am!” And she was right — standing there next to each other, their eyes were almost exactly even. And…could it be…Ashley seemed like she might actually be half an inch taller. Her loud voice had caught Clare’s attention, who immediately walked over to investigate.

“Holy…shit!” she exclaimed. “Ashley! You’re right! He’s shrunk!!” In her three-inch heels, Clare’s head rose two inches above Timothy’s. He was looking straight forward into the top of her mouth. Shivers of pleasure ran down his spine as he soaked up the presence of his two female co-workers, one a hair taller than him already, and the other already looking down on him. 

“I uh…I, don’t know, how…that’s possible,” he said haltingly in response. He wasn’t going to tell them about what had happened last night; he wanted it all to happen organically. 

“Well I don’t know either — but it happened!” said Clare with great energy. She seemed to be enjoying this new development. She sidled up her body close to Timothy’s and stood up to her full height, measuring how high his head came up to her. “Look at this!” she said excitedly to Ashley, “he only comes up to my eyes! Timmy! You…you lost like a couple inches at least!” 

Timothy was about to form some kind of halfhearted, concocted response, when Ashely interrupted. “Or,” she said impressively, “he was always this short, and we’re just now noticing it.” 

“B-but…no, that’s just…no!” said Timothy, confused at her faulty reasoning. “That’s not true!” 

“Says who?” said Ashley, smiling mischievously, “the short guy?” Timothy felt a tiny little lurch in his posture. Was that him shrinking again? His blood was pounding in his ears from arousal as he imagined what it was going to be like to get even smaller in front of them. But Ashley wasn’t finished. 

“You said you had a good night’s sleep last night…well, I gotta say, last night I slept better than I have in…in years. And I woke up this morning feeling fresher than I have in a long, long time. And I think I was noticing things about my posture as I drove here today. I think I was slouching before; I don’t think I was holding my shoulders right. And my whole upper body in general…I don’t think I was letting myself, uh, you know…open up. It’s probably just years of bad habit; for for some reason this morning I feel like I’ve been standing a little taller, a little stronger.”

“Of course you feel taller this morning!” laughed Clare, pointing at Timothy. “It’s because runty Springer over here has shrunk!” Timothy leaned up against his desk as he felt the slightest little lurch again in his posture. He was breathing hard…at this rate, he was going to be three feet tall by the end of the day! The thought distracted him so much that he allowed his legs to spread apart naturally as he leaned his back against his desk, exposing the tent of his erection for the two women to see. 

“And…and he’s got a boner!” choked Clare, pointing down at his pants and almost shrieking with manic delight. 

“Holy shit you’re right,” said Ashley, hardly seeming to believe her eyes. She looked slightly down at Timothy. “Timmy…Timmy, are you…are you turned on by us being taller than you?” 

He was so aroused that he couldn’t answer her — all he could do was lean even more heavily against his desk as red blotchy color dotted his neck and cheeks. 

“Oh my god he is,” said Clare in a deadpan voice. “He’s totally turned on by it. Holy smokes Springer, I never thought about it, but you know, when youthink about it, it makes total sense, doesn’t it?” 

“What do you…what do you mean?” Timothy managed to ask. 

“Well come on, it isn’t complicated,” she said, bending herself down a little so that she looked him directly in the eyes. “You’re a beta guy, Timmy — we’ve all known that for a while, haven’t we Ashley?”

“Totally,” laughed Ashley. 

“And well, what do beta guys do, Timmy?” 

“I don’t…I don’t know,” he said, unsure of where she was going, but anticipating it deliciously nonetheless. 

“They follow the bigger animals, Timmy. They can’t lead anywhere because they don’t know where to go. So they follow the bigger, smarter, stronger animals. And…well I’m just gonna be honest Timmy, that’s what you do here. You’re not as smart as I am, or Ashley, or Patricia, or Katie. And you’re not as quick on your feet as any of us are…you’re not as clever…and you don’t really have the same…strength of personality, shall we say. You just, kinda, exist here, doing a mediocre job. Sound about right?” 

“Sounds about right to me,” said Ashley, who was chuckling even while she watched to make sure that Clare wasn’t cutting too deep. She really did seem to be laying it on him thicker than usual this morning…and yet…Ashley didn’t care as much as she expected herself to. 

Timothy was just about bursting in his pants. His face was beet-red. “So,” finished Clare, smiling down at him as she brushed his chin with her finger, “it makes total sense that you’re shorter than us now. You’re mentally inferior — why shouldn’t you be physically inferior too?” 

It was all too much for Timothy who came in his pants as he collapsed in his chair. He had definitely felt it that time — the shrinking, undoubtedly from Clare and her vicious teasing. 

“Timmy?” asked Clare upon seeing him collapse. “Are you…uh, are you ok? I was just having a little fun, you know.” Clare did this all the time. She would tease and insult him, and then she would take it back when she felt like she had gone too far. It was a technique of manipulation that usually bothered him and made him feel used and powerless, but now he couldn’t deny that it was literally causing him to shrink. 

“I know Clare,” he panted, crossing his legs to hide his cum stain, “I know you’re just…just playing around.”

“Uh, right,” said Clare. An awkward few moments passed between the three of them before she broke the silence. “Ummmm, ok, Ash, wanna come with me? We need to get those items set before nine thirty.” As the two of them unceremoniously left Timothy panting in his chair, he could hear Clare whisper to Ashley on the way out, “Did I say too much? Did I push him too far?” But then they were gone and he couldn’t hear any more. 

He sat in his chair with his eyes closed for a minute or so, enjoying the afterglow of his orgasm. This was going to be fantastic, he thought to himself. Ashley was already a little taller than him, and Clare was taller than him as well in her heels. And how much had he shrunk that last time when Clare had really twisted the knife? He thought briefly about her strong wording…she always teased him, but it usually wasn’t that…biting. He had probably frustrated her yesterday by messing up the recipe over and over. Either way, he didn’t care. Maia had been right — everything that he had so desperately wanted for so long was now finally coming true. His eyes still closed, he smiled at the ceiling in ecstasy. 

A minute or so later, his eyes were still closed when he heard footsteps in the hallway. Multiple pairs…he knew who it was…they always traveled in the factory as a pair. A moment later he opened his eyes to Patricia and Katie. They were both standing right in front of him, looking positively fresh and full of life. 

“Hello,” said Patricia, smiling at him. 

“We heard you shrunk,” said Katie. 

Timothy took a second or two longer than usual to respond. Although this duo had never struck him as particularly bad-looking (especially Katie, who was quite cute), he was caught off guard by just…how…good they looked this morning. How fresh…was this his beautification dream coming true already? Or was it all just a psychosomatic manifestation in his head? Either way, he stumbled over his response. 

“Uhh…haha, yeah, ummm, I guess. Yeah…did Clare tell you?”

“Stand up!” said Patricia, “let’s see for ourselves!” 

“Ahhhh,” said Timothy, not wanting to blatantly reveal the fact that he had just cum in his pants, “I should actually probably get started working. I don’t want Clare to, uh, you know…be on my case again today.” 

“He’s totally shrunk,” said Katie excitedly to Patricia, “and he doesn’t wanna stand up because he’s afraid that we’re taller than he is!” 

“What? No!” he said, with a little more certainty than he felt he could have, “No — I just…I’m a little shorter than Ashley now, ok? I don’t know what’s going on…maybe she did some stretches last night or something…like, maybe I’ve been slouching lately…”

“Well, nothing new there — you never really did have the best posture,” teased Patricia. A slight tingle played around in the bottom of Timothy’s stomach. Was that another tiny shrink? His external words hid his true feelings: he was absolutely elated at the prospect of comparing with the two girls, but he didn’t want them to see his cum stain and tease him even more…he felt that this would accelerate his shrinking process, and he really didn’t want to rush anything. Maia had actually made his dreams come true; shrinking like this was a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence and he wanted to savor it as much as possible. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Katie impatiently, reaching down to pull him up, “come on, Timmy, let’s see how you measure up.” 

“No — wait!” he said, and as he put his hands up to rebuff Katie’s advances, he glanced down at his crotch to see how obvious his cum stain was. It wasn’t really that bad, actually. Just a few dark speckles of moisture…they wouldn’t really be able to see anything. His resistance weakened as Katie reached for him. 

“Come on,” enjoined Patricia, also reaching down with Katie. The two women grabbed him by either arm and pulled him up. Timothy felt his limp body obey the strength of their twin tugs, and he couldn’t help but notice how easily they pulled him up. Had they always been this strong? Or was it an effect of Maia’s? Timothy didn’t really care, and as the girls lugged him to his feet he chuckled and smiled. It was happening…it was really happening.

“Gosh, ok, ok you guys!” he laughed at the floor as they brought him to his feet. He stumbled around for a few paces in their grasp. 

“Come on, Timmy, stand up straight!” said Patricia. He felt Katie’s grip tighten on his upper arm. If he played around too much, they would figure out that he enjoyed this, and then it wouldn’t be fun anymore. He stood up straight and looked at his coworkers. He was still taller, but not by much. Maybe an inch? Maybe a little more? He wasn’t sure, but even facing these two in this way, these two who had always been significantly shorter than him, was sheer joy for him. If he hadn’t had an orgasm in the past five minutes, he would have been hard again.

Katie’s eyes widened. “It’s…it’s true!” she blurted out. “Timmy! You…really have shrunk!” Her eyes were searching, puzzled, and utterly fascinated. It was like she was looking at a new species, at something she had never seen before. Without even realizing it, she reached out her hand and grasped his shoulder, squeezing it and testing it for size, as if to reassure herself that what she was seeing was real. 

“But I’m still taller than you two!” said Timothy, smiling and puffing out his chest. He was trying to act as normally as possible. 

“Barely,” said Patricia. She also reached out and gasped Timothy’s other shoulder in the same way that Katie was, and squeezed. “He hasn’t just gotten shorter,” she said to Katie as she felt and clasped his shoulder, “he’s, like, actually gotten smaller too.”

“Yeah, like, all over,” agreed Katie as she pressed and kneaded. She moved to his ribs, poking her fleshy finger in between his bones. It was true — he had definitely lost some muscle mass, and when Katie poked her finger in it actually went right between a couple of his ribs, making him jump.

“Ahhh! Katie that tickles!” he laughed, bouncing back on his feet, stumbling backward into his chair. The two girls steadied him, and for a few moments all three of them were just standing there: Katie and Patricia staring in fascination and Timothy barely able to suppress a grin. 

“Timmy!” said Katie after the few moments had passed, “what’s happening? What happened to you?” Unlike Clare, who had immediately used his shrunken size as a pretext for merciless teasing, Katie seemed a bit more concerned. Still, though, behind her concern, he could see an unmistakable twinkle in her eye that had sparkled for a moment when she dug her finger into his ribs. 

“Uhhhh I have no idea,” he lied, unable to keep from smiling a little.

“Clare was right,” Patricia said to Katie as her eyes studied his face, “he does enjoy it.”

“Well that’s just weird,” said Katie, stepping back a little, as if to survey the situation from a different perspective. “There’s something very strange going on.” 

“Look, you two,” said Timothy, feeling like he had to jump in and prevent any more detective work, “I don’t see what the big deal is, ok? I get a little shorter and all of a sudden everyone’s getting all dramatic and saying I’m sick or that there’s something wrong or who knows what…” He trailed off, all of a sudden feeling quite intimidated by the two women — he wasn’t going to be able to talk them out of their scrutiny. In fact, he realized that the more he talked, the more suspicious everything probably seemed. He had to make everything seem normal.

“All I know,” he concluded, “is that I’m still taller than both of you, so…yeah, I’ve got that going for me.” He finished off his statement with another chuckle. Both women just stood there, unmoved by his words, looking at him. Their eyes seemed to bore holes in his body, and he suddenly sat down, trying to prevent any further inspection. 

Katie shifted her stance, cocking her large hips to the side as she folded her arms across her chest. She had always been curvy, but her hips and breasts just looked…bigger. Patricia likewise shifted her stance, putting her hands on her hips. Both girls looked like they weren’t having it, and they regarded him silently for a few more seconds before Patricia finally spoke. 
“Well,” she said, raising her eyebrows at him, “if all you’re going for is being taller than a couple of shorties like us…you’re not aiming very high, are you?”

“But no surprises there, huh, Trish?” said Katie, sticking her tongue into the inside of her cheek. Her concern seemed to have evaporated when Timothy sat down, and, standing there with her hips cocked to the side, she seemed to join him in his lighthearted approach to the situation. “Well, we better leave Mr. It’s No Big Deal to his work, huh?” 

“Guess so,” said Patricia, and the two turned to leave. “Oh, and Timmy,” she added, “if you find yourself struggling today, please don’t try and power through it alone, ok? It makes more work for us when you fall behind. Just let one of us know and we can help you out, alright?” 

“Y-yeah, sure, ok Patricia,” said Timothy, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh come on Timmy, don’t roll your eyes at her!” said Katie, a bit indignantly, “she’s just trying to help you.”

“Oh…I just — alright, sorry,” he said sheepishly. He was a bit caught-off guard by her reaction; he was so absorbed in the excitement of what was happening that he had forgotten his manners. Katie nodded at him, accepting his apology with a raised eyebrow, and then turned to leave, Patricia following in her wake. The two of them were whispering to each other as they left the room, but Timothy wasn’t trying to hear what they were saying. He was too busy gawking at Katie’s backside. It looked huge. She had always had a deliciously plump ass that twitched and undulated in all the right ways as she walked, but he had never noticed it as intensely as he was now. As she left the room, it bobbed and weaved incredibly with each step, almost like it was floating on disturbed waters. He also noticed that Patricia, who had never had much of an ass, seemed to be sporting a little more in her “trunk” as well, and though it didn’t move anything like Katie’s did, Timothy was sure that her pants looked a little tighter in back than they had been the previous day. 

The two women left whispering, with Katie glancing back at him briefly before they went into the hallway. She caught him staring at her, and he immediately turned in his chair and grabbed a stack of papers, pretending to sift through them. She had seen him watching her; he was sure of it. He heard their footsteps disappear down the hallway and he was alone once more. A huge grin stitched itself across his face as he balled up his hands in elation. 

“Yesssss!” he whispered to himself. “Yes! Yes! Yessssss!” This was all going so well! He could hardly believe it — it was all actually coming true! He thought back to Maia and the previous night, and how utterly beautiful she was. Was she watching him now? Of course she was — she was a goddess, right?? She could probably see everything that was going on. What had he done to get so lucky?? As he sat in his chair, musing blissfully over his situation, he gradually arrived at the conclusion that the goddess had paid him a visit because she had been watching him his whole life and had decided, after watching him struggle and toil with his unrequited desires, that he deserved to have them fulfilled. 

‘This is what you deserve, Timothy,’ he said to himself. ‘After all these years of feeling like a freak, of seeing everyone else just coasting through life and having normal sex and normal love lives…seeing them all happy and satisfied while you were alone and miserable with your impossible fantasies…well…look at everything now.” He felt vindicated; he felt that finally, the universe was paying him the proper attention. He couldn’t help but wonder when he was going to get that girlfriend who understood him — there was so much to look forward to! Thinking back to the goddess, he felt a great emotional welling-up inside himself, and he suddenly pulled his chair forward to his desk and shut his eyes tightly as he clasped both of his hands together in prayer. 

“Thank you goddess!” he whispered, hoping that she could hear him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!” He stayed like this for a minute or so, positively worshipping Maia as he praised her name over and over. 

“Timmy!” crackled Clare’s voice over the intercom. Panic momentarily shot through him as his prayer was interrupted. “You heard Patricia, right? If youhave any issues today I want you to go straight to her or Katie, understand? I don’t want a repeat of yesterday’s shenanigans, ok?” 

“O-ok Clare,” he said, fumbling around on his desk and pressing the intercom button. “Got it.” 

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. Timothy was eager to try and do as best a job as he could, because he knew that if he had Clare or Katie or whoever having to correct his performance, he would get off to it and shrink down even further. Although this is exactly what he wanted, he knew that he would get carried away and make himself shrink faster than he wanted to. This spell, or magic, or whatever it was, was the most delicious thing that had ever happened to him, and he wanted to relish it slowly.

He was proud of himself for handling this crazy situation with this kind of maturity and poise. As he worked away at his desk, he imagined that Maia was watching him with approval, admiring his determination not to take her gift and power for granted. 

‘She probably realizes,’ he said to himself as he worked diligently, ‘that she picked the right guy to visit. I’m not going to abuse her power — oh no! I’m going to treat it with the respect…and the, umm….the reverence (there, that’s the word!) that it deserves.’ He worked on at a faster pace than he had ever worked before. He was doing the equations correctly; he mixed the ingredients properly; he made sure that everything was at the right temperature; he didn’t go overboard on the phosphoric acid; he ensured that there wasn’t too much carbonation in each batch. In short, Timothy had the most productive day at Fizzy Pop that he had ever had before. All day, he worked uninterrupted…there were only a few times when he heard footsteps in the hallway. They hadn’t been Clare’s, because he could hear her heels clicking far away before he saw her. He had caught Ashley peering around the doorframe at him, but when they made eye contact, she hadn’t tired to hide herself — she simply kept staring at him intently, as if trying to understand what was going on. He had given her a little awkward wave, but she hadn’t waved back. She had just kept staring at him for another few moments before she went away. 

‘She clearly knows something’s up,’ he thought to himself. ‘Katie too…those two are pretty sharp. Gotta be extra careful around them. Nothing I can’t handle, though.’ As five o’clock came around, he surveyed his work and cracked his fingers. A full day’s work! And he didn’t even have to stay late! And even though the girls might have been whispering amongst themselves and asking questions, no one knew what was going on. He did though — he knew, and as he gathered his things to leave, he felt more in charge, more in control, more power over his life than he had ever felt before. 

“Good job today, Springer,” came Clare’s voice suddenly from the doorway. Timothy spun around. Clare was leaning against the doorframe, her high heels crossed over each other, looking sexy in her short, shiny, form-fitting black dress. 

“Uhh, thanks!” he said brightly as he gathered his things. 

“You didn’t even have to ask Katie or Trish for help, huh?” continued Clare. 

“Um, nope! Nope, not today!” he said, approaching her with his briefcase. As he neared the door Clare stood up straight. She certainly did seem tall. In fact, as he stood in front of her, he could see that his eyes only came up to her mouth…if that…maybe it was only up to the bottom of her lip. 

“That’s good, Springer,” she said mildly, “that’s really good. Maybe tomorrow you can go even faster.” 

“F-faster?” he stuttered. He didn’t really see how that was possible. After all, today was the most productive he had been at any job at any point in time in his life. And Clare wanted him to…work faster? 

“Yeah, faster,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “You know, when Ashley, Katie, and Patricia were batch mixers they got to the point where they were putting out twice as much as you did today.” 

“T-twice as much?”

“Yep, twice as much,” she said matter-of-factly. “It’s because of their habits, Springer. They got into the habit of being productive, and you know, they just got faster and faster with time. Maybe, with some extra dedication and practice, you can get to where they were in a few month’s time.” 

“A few-a few months?” he stammered. He felt confused, and momentarily forgot how happy he was. He was distracted by the other girls’ productivity, and by how much he had apparently overestimated his own work. 

“Yes, a few months,” said Clare, her hands still on her hips. “A good work ethic takes time to build, you know. You can’t just have one good day and expect me to be tripping over myself to congratulate you.”

N-no, no, of course not,” agreed Timothy. He couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed and let down by Clare’s reaction to his hard work. Yes, it had just been one day, but…but…he had maybe expected her to be a little more…something. She could see the discontent in his face, and she took a step forward. Yes, he was certain…she had to be at least three inches taller than him now…and probably a little bit more. He was definitely looking at the bottom of her lower lip. Her breasts (which looked more impressive than usual packed into that shiny black dress) were even with his shoulders. She bent down and looked at him straight in the face. 

“I’m sorry for teasing you this morning, Timmy,” she said up-close, “but really, there was something to what I was saying, and your attitude now proves it. You really do need to develop better work habits, habits that your female co-workers have already established and maintained. The fact that you’re a little miffed right now that I’m not praising you more for one day of average work just shows how far you have to go.”

Timothy had been looking into her eyes, but hearing these words he was forced to look down at her feet. They went straight to his core — he knew she was right. 

“I need you to develop some grit, Timmy,” continued Clare, standing up to her full height. “I need you to try and produce just like you did today, every day. I need you to show me some strength of personality and character, alright?” 

He didn’t respond immediately; he was still staring at her high heels. He felt a little lurch in his stomach again — was that him shrinking? No, it couldn’t be; he wasn’t even really enjoying this exchange. Clare reached out her hand and put a manicured finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at her. 

“Alright?” she repeated, staring at him intently. 

“A-alright,” he said. 

“Good.” She nodded her head smartly at him and turned to leave, her ass making noises against her tight dress with each step. “Oh, and Timmy?” she said, turning around in the doorway. 

“Yes?”

“I think I’d go see a doctor if I were you. You’ve definitely gotten smaller. And skinnier too.”

“Y-yeah, yeah, I think I need to get myself checked out,” he said, scratching the back of his head. 

“Like, I don’t mean to be rude, Timmy, but you were never, uh…how should I say it…the buffest guy out there, you know? But…yeah, something’s going on, and it’s not just the fact that you’re shorter. You’re…just…uh, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re…just, shrimpier.” 

“Yeah…yeah I got it, Clare,” said Timothy, a little testily. He could feel that little something in his stomach again, and he knew it was him shrinking again. But he wanted to enjoy it, and this exchange with Clare wasn’t really that enjoyable. He felt more annoyed than anything. 

She put her hands up. “Just trying to help,” she said, and then walked away, her heels clacking and echoing off the hallway walls. Timothy stood there in place a few moments, breathing hard. He was sure he had felt himself shrinking there…why hadn’t he enjoyed it? The truth was that he had been enjoying the feeling of control he felt he had over the situation, and Clare had caught him off-guard with her critique of his performance. He resented this brief abdication of control, even though it meant that he had gotten even smaller. Clare’s honest and straightforward words had been more humiliating than he even realized, and even though the biting truth of her words turned him on, he didn’t necessarily enjoy the feeling. 

“No matter!” he said out loud after a few moments. He could feel his mind clearing, and the joy of his present situation returned like the sun behind a cloud. He was eager to get home and do one thing: measure himself again, to see how small he had gotten. 

‘And I won’t just measure my height this time,’ he said to himself as he walked quickly to his car in the parking deck, ‘I’ll measure everything…waist, hips, shoulders, arms, legs…everything! Gotta keep track of the shrinking!’ By the time he reached his car he was positively giddy from excitement. He had taken care to park in exactly the same place as he had the previous day, and before getting in his car he took a few moments to look around and remember the exchange he had had with the goddess less than 24 hours before. As he looked around at the bare concrete, and at the “Clearance 6’6” sign and the tree branch that she had plucked the caterpillar from, he couldn’t stifle an audible sigh of pleasure that seemed to come up from the middle of his breast. As if in response, a light pleasant breeze suddenly kicked up and blew around his face, rumpling his hair. Although it was not nearly as strong as it had been the previous night, he could smell it: just a hint of roses. It was her, he knew. It was her kissing him with her breath. He closed his eyes and sighed again, feeling, for all he was worth, like he was the luckiest man in the world.

As he winded down the concrete labyrinths, his anticipation grew. He had been forced to readjust both his car seat the steering again, and this provided concrete proof that he had, in fact, shrunk again. But by how much?? He couldn’t wait to get home to find out — as he turned out the parking deck, his mind was awash in excitement over what he was going to do when he got home. He’d make a height chart that documented his shrinking as it happened each day…he’d keep detailed records of everything…how it happened, when it happened…and how much he shrank each time. He’s start to carry a tape measure with him wherever he went, and…he suddenly realized that he didn’t own a scale.

‘No problem,’ he thought to himself as he drove down the road, going faster than normal in his eager anticipation, ‘I’ll just stop by the store and get one.’ He briefly wondered where people bought scales. They weren’t the kind of thing that you bought everyday, so…he was slowing down for a red light, and he briefly looked down at his phone to check to see where he could go to get one…

*BAM*

Evidently he had not slowed quickly enough, because he had just rear-ended the car in front of him. It was’t a bad accident by any means — he had only been going a couple miles per hour, but even at that speed, he lurched forward in the driver’s seat as his car came to a sudden stop. 

“Oh fuck!” he yelled in surprise. The suddenness of the impact, even at that low speed, was jarring to say the least. Immediately, he turned off his car, put it in “park,” and stumbled out, hoping to god that the car he hit wasn’t driven by some big angry man. He had a couple seconds to survey the car he hit and the damage: a black car, sporty…he could see that it had a bumper sticker in the corner of a…was that some kind of skull? His heart sank — this person was gonna be so pissed at him and he was gonna have to…but at that moment his mind stopped thinking, because the driver’s side to the car he hit opened, and he saw a long leg emerge, wrapped halfway up to the knee in what looked like platform gothic boots. Timothy’s breath caught in his chest. The long leg made contact with the ground and…Timothy could see the swell of the thigh as the leg flexed and brought out…the rest of the person…a woman…a young woman. With a mane of black hair that billowed around her pale face — a beautiful face, with pale, rounded cheeks, a sharp chin, lush, full lips with black lipstick, and large deep-set eyes that were highlighted by heavy dark make-up. Timothy barely had time to notice everything: the proud way she held up her magnificent head that exposed her long, elegant, snow-white throat, her form-fitting white t-shirt that did little to hide her impressive breasts, and her low-cut jean shorts that barely contained the curves of her hips and ass and only went about a third of the way down her notable thighs.

Timothy noticed all of these things in a flash as he stumbled towards her, but more than anything he noticed the expression on her face. She looked…hungry. 

“I’m-I’m so sorry, ma’m!” he stammered as he bumbled over to her, “I didn’t—I wasn’t, uh — I wasn’t looking where — I thought I braked, but I — I’m so sorry…” he trailed off lamely, as he had reached her and didn’t know what else to say. Standing in front of her now, he noticed one thing more: she was tall. Wearing her platform boots, his head came up to her chin…he had to avert his eyes from hers…she was looking at him through her dark make-up with such an odd and inscrutable intensity that he had to look away, and he did…straight forward into the tops of her breasts. 

“A little distracted driving, huh?” she said wryly, putting a hand on her hip. Timothy saw that her nails were painted black and were very sharp…they reminded him of Maia’s nails. The young woman heaved a sigh.

“Well, little man, what’s your name?” 

“I’m-I’m T-timothy,” he stuttered. This woman was so beautiful, and so big, that it was as much as he could manage just to get those words out. 

“Well Timothy,” she said, striding slowly and confidently by him to survey the damage to her car, “there just seems to be a little bit of a dent here. Thankfully you weren’t going too fast.”

“Yes, yes, ah, I’m so sorry, ma’m…about that…yes, I can see the dent there. Well, I’ll just — I’ll just give you my, uh…my insurance information here —” and he fumbled in his back pocket for his wallet. The woman had strode back around Timothy and had leaned herself up against her car, crossing her boots as she crossed her arms across her large chest, looking down on him with something of an amused expression on her face. 

“Timothy,” she said, as if savoring the taste of his name in her mouth, “how old are you, might I ask?” 

“How…how old? I’m 28,” he said, still fumbling for his wallet. 

“28?” she said, chuckling, “you don’t look a day over 21.” 

“Well, I’m 28, and I have my license here to prove it,” he said, feeling irritated at the little lurch in his stomach that accompanied her teasing. He wanted to have control over when he shrank and when he didn’t, and besides, he needed to get home to measure himself…after he bought a scale of course. 

The woman waved her hand nonchalantly, as if dismissing his offer, but then she seemed to reconsider.

“Actually, yeah,” she said, grinning as she stuck her tongue into the side of her cheek, “can I see your license? I don’t believe you.” 

“What? Uhhh, sure, here you go,” he said, handing it up to her. He was having trouble finding his insurance card. “Just…uh, wait a minute, if you don’t mind? I’m sorry, ma’m, I’m, uh…I’ve just gotta find my insurance card.”

She waved her hand again casually. “Take your time,” she said as she looked at his driver’s license. She studied it for a moment, looking at the license, then looking at him, then back at the license, then back at him again.

“Welll,” she said, clearly enjoying herself, “it does say your name is “Timothy” here, and it does say you were born 28 years ago…” She looked at him with a grin. “But why should I trust what it says about those things when it’s clearly wrong about everything else?” 

“What? What do you mean?” asked Timothy, still distracted by his missing insurance card. 

“There’s no way,” said the woman slowly, “that you’re 5’8, 165.” Timothy stopped what he was doing and looked up at the woman, feeling something freeze inside him. 

“There’s no way,” she repeated, smiling down at him, “because I know exactly how tall I am in these boots, and if you were 5’8, you’d come up to about right here,” she said, indicating to the middle of her nose with a flat hand. Timothy noticed then how big her hands were…and how long her fingers were. 

“How…how tall are you?” he asked, his mouth increasingly dry. 

“5’10,” she said casually, flipping her full black hair. Then she looked down on him with wide eyes. “But in these boots I’m 6’2.” 

“6’2?” he repeated, feeling weak in the knees. The number sounded so big to him, and yet, there she was, clearly real, right in front of him.

“Yep,” she said, clearly proud of her stature. “But you, Timothy, you aren’t even close to 5’8.” She cocked her head to the side briefly. “I’d say you’re about 5’4, 130 pounds soaking wet.” 

He didn’t know what to say, and for a couple moments he just stood there gawking at her big, curvy frame as she continued to regard him amusedly with her arms crossed. 

“Well, I…uh, I just — I’ve gotten a little smaller since, uh…since I got that license,” he managed to say simply. 

“Yes,” she laughed, “I can see that.” A few more moments passed. Timothy was beginning to feel naked in front of this large woman, and although he could feel himself getting hard under her stare, he felt like he was losing control of this whole situation. He wanted to get home and start making his growth chart. He bent down and looked through his wallet again, finally finding his insurance card. He held it out to her. 

“Well, here’s my, uh, information…why don’t you, uh…” But she cut him off, holding up her hand as she came off from leaning on her car and stood up straight, her hands still folded across her chest. 

“I don’t care about that,” she said. 

“You don’t? Uh…well, thanks…” he said, turning to leave. 

“Oh no you don’t,” she laughed, stopping him in his tracks. “I don’t care about that, but you don’t just get to walk away from me like that.” He turned around, not understanding. She was looking at him with that same hungry look he had seen from her initially, and it went straight to his cock…it made him feel even smaller. 

“I’m not doing anything later on this evening,” she said, her dark eyes twinkling at him. “Why don’t we grab dinner? Your treat to me and we’ll call it even, how about that?” 

“Uhh, like…a date?” Timothy couldn’t believe his ears. s

“Yeah,” she said coolly, “like a date.” 

“O-ok.” 

“How about at The Black Pig?” she asked smoothly, enjoying his slight wince at her mention of one of the most expensive restaurants in town. “You can afford that, can’t you, Timothy? You’re a young professional with some spending money, right?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, that sounds good,” he said, blushing at his inability to hide how expensive the restaurant sounded to him. 

“Ok, Timothy, see you there…about 7?” 

“7…sounds good.”

“And we’re doing an honor code thing here, ok? You better not stand me up, little guy, or I’ll come looking for you,” she said, winking at him. 

“No — I’ll…I’ll be there,” he said. She nodded, grinning, and then turned to get back in her car, treating Timothy to a healthy view of one of the most impressive asses he had ever seen. While it was true that this woman was large, tall, and curvy in nearly every way, Timothy had not expected her ass to be…like that. If he had gawked at Katie’s large ass earlier that day, he was positively flabbergasted at this one…it was almost cartoonish, although the natural way it rippled and swayed behind her told him that it was as natural as every other part of her. Her…her name! He hadn’t gotten her name!

“E-excuse me?” he called out as she got in her car, “what’s — what’s your name?” 

She turned back around and gave him another smile that seemed to indicate…some kind of appetite. With her billowing black hair, her sharp black nails, her black lips, her heavy make-up, and her dark eyes…all juxtaposed with her pale white skin and long, exquisite neck, she almost looked…like a vampire. 

“Beatrice,” she said, that strange smile still on her lips. Then she got in her car and sped away through the light, which was just turning red again. Timothy walked back to his car in a daze, turned it back on, and suddenly realized that he had to slightly re-adjust his seat again. He did so almost without thinking. He looked at the clock. 5:25. How far was the Black Pig from his house? Fifteen minutes? He had enough time to pop over to the store, buy a scale, and then go home and measure himself before…before he went on this…date…with Beatrice. He suddenly smacked his head into the steering wheel as the reality of the situation became clear to him. That was her!! She was exactly what he asked for!! 

“Ha!!!” he laughed out loud in his car. “Hahaha, oh my god, Timothy, you’re just a fucking idiot!” Most of that exchange, he had been trying to find his insurance card, and the whole time she was just leaning there against her car, arms folded, watching him squirm and struggle with that smile on her face. Oh my god…her face…she was….gorgeous. “Holy shit!” he shouted, out loud again as he put his car into “drive” and waited for the green light. “Holy shit!!!” Maia was working faster than he could have ever believed possible — it hadn’t even been an entire day yet, and already he had shrunk around four inches, lost a bunch of weight, and literally crashed into the girl of his dreams. 

It was all so perfect!! He racked his brain as he drove to the store, trying to remember every detail of Beatrice’s body. He was kicking himself for not catching on to the whole thing sooner, but he was far too thrilled to be too put-out with himself. Her ass…it was just unbelievable! A lot of girls these days had fat asses, Katie by far being the least of them, but he had never, ever quite seen a backside like Beatrice’s. It just…it fit perfectly in between everything else she had. It didn’t look artificially huge, because she had such thick, curvy, womanly thighs. But it didn’t disappear into her midsection like it did on so many other women, because her waist was actually pretty small…maybe even his size…although maybe it was an inch or so bigger than his at this point…his brain was positively buzzing with excitement as he navigated his way through the department store, finally finding the scale he was looking for. It was late afternoon and the store was busy. Timothy couldn’t help but notice how…plain everyone looked to him initially. He had Beatrice on his mind, and next to her, everyone else just looked drab. Except, well, there was a mother in line in front of him, who was holding her one-year old in one arm as she waited her turn; she couldn’t have been older than Timothy, and yet…well, she looked pretty damn fine, despite the presence of her child. The arm that she was holding the child in looked impressively developed, and substantial and fleshy at the same time. 

‘Motherhood must be hard work,’ Timothy briefly mused as his eyes went over her large hips, her solid legs, and her big breasts. ‘It makes sense that…well, that all that activity would…pay off physically.’ He glanced briefly down at his own form, and Clare’s word “shrimpy,” immediately jumped to mind. He suddenly realized that this mother in front of him (maybe even younger than him, actually, by the looks of it) was a couple inches taller and probably at least 30 pounds heavier than he was. And she…just looked good. Even the teenaged cashier, who looked distant and preoccupied and was chewing gum, looked…fresh. She was about his height…and just the way she moved, the precision of her gestures (even though she was just scanning the barcode on the scale) made him feel slightly weak. But Beatrice…Beatrice! His mind snapped back to her, and remained fixated on her as he drove home. It was 6:00 now, just enough time to measure himself, take a quick shower, and then put on some nice clothes before his literal “dream date.” 

He quickly got out his tape measure and stood up against the wall. He stood well under the mark from the previous night — that much was certain. Once again, he was careful to stand up straight to get as precise a measurement as possible. He marked himself down, turned around, and took a step backward to measure. Four feet, four foot 6, five feet…one, two, three…and a half. He was FIVE FOOT THREE…AND A HALF. Shorter than Patricia…shorter than Katie. He briefly imagined what they would say tomorrow, and how they react. But more than anything, he thought about Beatrice. She was almost a foot — a foot taller than him in those platform boots of hers. And even then, those were only four-inch heels. Just by the looks of her, Timothy imagined that she had some higher platforms or heels in her wardrobe. He was about to go on a date with someone who for all intents and purposes was a foot taller than him. His cock was instantly erect, and he positively tore the scale out of the box, fumbled to install the batteries, and then, after a few minutes, finally stood on the scale to get his weight. 

119. 

119???

He weighed less than 120 pounds?? This was incredible! He couldn’t wait any longer. He collapsed on the floor and started to jerk himself off, all the while thinking about Beatrice and her huge, luscious curves, and how much, at 5’10, she probably weighed. 170? 180?? Surely almost 60 pounds more than he did…it wasn’t very long before he was spilling his seed all over his work clothes. 

A few minutes later her was in the shower…he had to hurry; in his hasty lust he had burned through the time. It was 6:40 by the time he stepped out of the shower. He hurried through his closet, trying to find anything that would fit him…but nothing really did. Everything was far too big around the waist, far too long in the legs, and far too wide on his shoulders. He was going to look ridiculous tonight, but at this point, Timothy didn’t really even care. He was too over-the-moon for meeting Beatrice again. He finally settled for some kakis that he managed to roll up, a collared golf shirt that hung on him loosely, and loafers that looked not quite but almost like clown shoes on his shrunken feet.

He drove to the restaurant with difficulty, and eventually he decided to take his shoes off before he got himself into another accident. He pulled into the restaurant parking lot and, after a few minutes of searching, managed to find a parking spot. The Black Pig was one of the fanciest joints in town, and popular with the young and well-to-do crowd, a crowd that Timothy most certainly was not a member of. This fact could not have been more obvious as he stumbled out of his car in his oversized shoes and clothes and walked unsteadily to the door. A few patrons stopped to look at him, and he even noticed two young, expensively well-dressed, and attractive women pointing at him and whispering as he went in through the front door. 

He went past the loud crowd of people in front, almost all of them taller than him (and far better dressed), to the hostess’s desk, where a young woman with trendy dyed white hair was standing. In her heels she was a good half-foot taller than him at least, and she regarded him curiously, as if he was someone who was lost and in need of directions. 

“Can I…help you sir?” she asked. 

“Umm…yes…uh…table for two…uh, yes. Table for two, please.” 

“Do you have a reservation, Mr…..?” 

“S-springer…and, uh…no, actually.” He felt something drop off in his intestines. Had he messed up the date already? Was he supposed to have made a reservation? 

“Hmmm, well, we’re pretty booked up here, Mr. Springer,” said the hostess, clicking her tongue…except…well…” she looked down at him, that same curious expression on her face. “What’s your first name, Mr. Springer?”

“Uhh…Timmy,” he said, then shook his head, not understanding how he could’ve misspoke. “Timothy, Timothy.” 

The hostess’s face lit up. “Timothy? Oh yes, Mr. Springer, your date is actually already at her table. Follow me, please.”

He followed the hostess through the throngs of professional, laughing, fancy people, noticing how the swell of her ass swayed in her steel-grey dress. A moment later, the crowd seemed to open up, and the hostess was indicating to a candle-lit table where Beatrice sat, smiling, her curves barely contained by a fancy blood-red dress. Timothy instinctively looked down and saw that she was wearing heels…tall heels. 

“Hello, Timothy,” she said, slowly and majestically rising out of her chair, holding out her arms. “Long time no see.”