Shift Change
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Michael opened the padlock and rolled up the metal door. The spring loaded mechanism hit the ceiling with a loud metal clang and rattle. After the recent layoffs he had been “promoted” to shift manager because Janine, the previous one, had walked out. His pay had barely increased, but his responsibilities now included opening up the store as well as closing it. He was also supposed to manage the shift workers, each of which now had to cover more than before while their pay remained unchanged.
“Morning, Michael,” said a chirpy voice behind him, “you want coffee?” It was his colleague Amy, the only other employee scheduled for this morning’s shift before they opened up. She was holding a steaming styrofoam cup from the local knock off coffee place, their logo just different enough not to get sued by Starbucks. Her small hands wrapped around the cup adorably, like she was lifting a heavy pot up to him.
“Thanks Amy, that’s very nice. You know you didn’t have to do that?” He squatted, which almost put him at eye sight. The woman was only slightly over 2ft tall. Stocking the shelves with her help would be a challenge. He assumed the reason why she hadn’t gotten fired was that she was the least-paid employee by a big margin. Nobody with better options would stay for that pay. Not in this economy. But it was hard to find work as a 2ft Chinese girl who barely spoke English.
He took the coffee from her hands, and she blew against them to cool them down.
“It very hot,” she remarked. Michael grinned. Her brown eyes stared up at him. She looked pale, her skin dry. Dark rings under her eyes. Lips cracked. He knew she didn’t drink coffee, only tea that she brewed herself in the staff break room using tea she brought from home. She’d make the tiniest cup and sip it slowly throughout the day. This Fauxbux latte probably had 3-4 shots, which would send her little metabolism to the stratosphere. One had to manage caffeine carefully if one was only 2ft tall and had a blood volume of… what, a quart or two?
He stood up, once again towering over her, and took a sip. The coffee tasted burned. He smacked his lips in appreciation.
“This is really good,” he lied, “thanks Amy.”
“Welcome,” she said and proceeded into the store. He followed her slowly, which wasn’t a problem with her legs so short. He watched her take off her puffy jacket, she was wearing the polyester uniform underneath. It draped over her bony frame like a blanket over a coat rack.
They put their clothes and backpacks into the staff room and began stocking. Amy naturally took the lower three shelves, having to get on her tip-toes to barely reach the third. He worked on the higher ones and the heavier items. Heavier items like full gallons of milk. She also didn’t like working on the large refrigerated shelves, having once tripped and fallen in, and then been unable to push the door open from the inside. She’d been lucky that a customer had found her in there and rescued her. Michael remembered the stream of abuse he had been subjected to from the concerned woman. How could he let something like this happen to an employee? He shrugged. What was he supposed to do? Corporate didn’t exactly give him much choice in who to schedule.
After an hour they were done preparing for the day. Just in time, Julia showed up. The young woman was working part time to help pay for college. She was sassy, but great at the register. Plus, customers liked her. Michael hated working the register and Amy wasn’t great with people. Especially people who were busy or angry.
“Hey Michael, Amy,” said Julia, changing into her uniform, “how’s it hanging?”
“It’s hanging alright,” said Michael, “same old.”
“Yes, same old,” said Amy, then added “you very pretty today.”
“Aww, thanks hon! That’s so sweet of you.” Julia crouched down in front of the Chinese woman and nuzzled her nose, then gave her a peck on the cheek. Amy blushed.
“Amy, can you go over the inventory in the back? Need to make sure we order the right stuff for delivery.”
“Yes boss,” Amy said and made her way to the warehouse. Julia, now uniform-clad, headed to the register.
“Go get 'em,” Michael tried to motivate her, and Julia laughed. He wasn’t sure if it had worked or if she was laughing at his attempt.
He himself made the rounds and checked everything was in the right place, adjusting a few items here and there as he went. The first customers trickled in, and he nodded a greeting whenever he passed someone.
An hour later the store was buzzing. No time to greet everyone now, it was too crowded. Michael checked by Julia to make sure she was doing ok. He’d take her place at the register in a while so she could take her break.
Then he checked on Amy in the warehouse.
“You in here, Amy?” He said. He couldn’t hear a sound. Damn it, was she out back? She didn’t smoke, as far as he knew. Maybe she was using the restroom.
Then he found her, draped across a pile of potato sacks. She was lying face down, her thin arms still gently wrapped around a can of tomato soup she had been carrying.
“Oh shit! Amy!”
He rushed to her and rolled her over on her back. She was breathing, but passed out, probably from exhaustion. Eyes rolled back in her skull. Her skin was ashen and she just looked like an absolute wreck.
“You silly little chink. Why didn’t you just say something?” he said, mostly to himself.
Michael sighed and looked around. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. What if someone caught him? He walked a few steps to lock the door, then returned. Undoing his belt and fly, he pulled out his cock and began slowly stroking himself. It wasn’t easy to get hard like this, in a cold warehouse at the back of the store. Amy looking like a corpse in front of him. He tried to think of something sexy. His ex-wife’s tits when they were newly married. That stripper who’d agreed to give him a blowjob behind the club.
After a minute of quiet stroking, he finally got semi-hard. His efforts made little shlick noises in the quiet of the warehouse, only occasionally interrupted by the hum of a distant industrial fridge. He used his other hand to reach down and squeeze his balls, and closed his eyes. It was too distracting to look at that tiny, ashen face, the white of her eyeballs. The cracked lips. In his mind he imagined Julia. Half his age, tall. Curvy. A bundle of energy, always a smile on her lips. Those perfect youthful tits. She way her ass danced as she walked, the polyester store uniform awkward in places, maybe a size too small. The stupid grin she gave him when he’d walk past. Those thick lips. Dick sucking lips. He tried to imagine Julia’s face as she sucked his dick. Jesus, she was young enough to be his daughter.
He felt himself close to cumming and opened his eyes. A few drops were leaking from his dick, and he could feel his balls contracting. He quickly leaned forward, bringing his semi-erect cock to Amy’s small face. Her lips opened easily as he shoved his tip into them, but even with her muscles totally relaxed while she was out, he was afraid of pushing any further. He wasn’t particularly well endowed, probably average. Just enough to be fun-sized, his ex had called it. But Amy’s mouth was so small that it looked stretched beyond imagination just from his tip. If he tripped and fell, he might split her jaw in half.
The next stroke did it. His balls exploded, pumping spurt after spurt of hot cream into the tiny, unconscious woman’s mouth. First it seemed to go down her throat, and when that couldn’t take the pressure off, it built back up through her mouth until it came out at the sides and her nostrils.
Amy gagged and gasped, then gulped. Her eyes rolled back down and with a cough, she spit out his drooping cock. Her head turned slightly, and she stared up at him. She couldn’t move much with the tip in her mouth, as it took up a large portion of her face. It’s girth covering most of her chin and one cheek.
Michael pulled back, but her hands grabbed his shaft.
“Please, no stop!” She begged.
A tiny hand guided his tip back to her lips and she began suckling it adorably. Then he felt small fingers touch his left nut and squeeze. He caught himself in a deep moan, and covered his mouth with his hand. What if somebody heard? She squeezed his nut as best she could with one tiny hand, then worked the other, milking him dry. Each spurt greedily gulped down, her thin throat bobbing as she accepted his seed.
Finally he was completely emptied. His cock began deflating rapidly and he tucked it back into his pants and fastened his belt. Then he stood back up and reached down to help her up.
Her hand looked so puny in his broad paw as he pulled her up. She was still a bit wobbly on her feet, but looked much better. Her skin was already clearer and more vibrant. She licked her lips, spreading his cum over them.
“You got some on your chin,” he advised. She used her fingers to wipe it off, then sucked them clean.
“You should’ve told me, Amy. How long has it been?”
“My boyfriend not come home in 3 day.”
“Three days? Jesus. Your blood sugar must’ve crashed when you carried those cans.”
“Please no fire me. I can no have other job.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, “that’s not what I meant. Where’s your boyfriend? Why isn’t he coming home?”
“Not know. I think maybe they take him.”
It was unclear who “they” were, but he’d read enough stories. Rich people who would hire unscrupulous scumbags to kidnap tiny people. Usually it was Asian women who were abducted, often taken in broad daylight. It was easy enough to pick one up and stuff her into a duffel bag, a backpack. Nobody would notice in a crowd. But he’d also heard of rich trophy wives taking tiny Asian men as their personal sex slaves. Tolerated by rich husbands who probably owned their own collection of oriental sex toys. Or maybe Amy’s boyfriend had been kidnapped by a gay man? He might be getting sodomized right this instant by a cock the size of a baseball bat. Michael shuddered at the thought.
He cleared his throat.
“Well, I’m glad I found you. You could’ve hurt yourself, you know. Hit your head on the floor. What if I came back here and found you dead? Or Julia? Think how sad she would be.”
Amy looked disturbed. How could she hurt the lovely Julia?
“So sorry,” the tiny thing chirped.
“Don’t worry about it for now,” he said, gently ruffling through her hair. “Just take it easy for today, ok? Maybe leave the heavy cans for me. I’ll do them later.”
“Ok boss,” she said, avoiding eye contact.
“It’s not a big deal, really,” he said, “don’t worry one bit. Hey, I gotta run, have to take over for Julia at the register. I’ll see you later, ok? Promise you’ll take it easy.”
“Ok Michael,” she said. He unlocked the door and slipped out, not without checking he’d really zipped up his fly first. He felt guilty. He’d only done it to help her, of course. Had he known that she hadn’t seen her boyfriend in three days, he might’ve found a subtle way to offer her some earlier. Maybe that’s what the coffee had been for. Had he missed a sign? She might’ve been desperately hypoglycemic and just not had the courage to ask anyone.
“Hey boss,” Julia said, smacking her lips.
“I thought we were clear on the gum rule,” he said.
“I’ve technically been on break for 3 minutes. You’re late. I’m only checking out these people as a personal favor.” Michael rolled his eyes. The sass.
“Hey, I appreciate it. Sorry about being late. Take an extra 5, ok? It was my fault.”
“Yes daddy,” she said, laughing, and slipped off the chair. He rolled his eyes again as he took her place.
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized to the customer who’d been watching the exchange, “I got held up in the back. Do you happen to have an account with our loyalty program? If not, I’d be happy to set you up with a card right now. No? Ok, no problem.”
The 30 minutes went by in the blink of an eye. After a decade at this job, he was scanning and bagging customers’ items in his sleep. His mind was elsewhere. Specifically, it was in the back, in the warehouse, watching himself kneel over a tiny, passed out Amy. Had he taken advantage of her back there?
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Well, that was odd at parts, but quite lovely.
