Cleaning Up Your Act
Chapter 1: New Leadership
Clint gazes up past the long thick pillars, up to the thin black sports shorts, up to the white, sweat-stained T-shirt, and into the mildly amused smirk of the titanic young man. A squirt gun bobs in his hand as he looks down and meets Clint’s gaze, or perhaps even the gazes of one of the other shrunken people littering the ground. Nobody would have guessed that just a few seconds earlier, Clint had been helping Dan and his posse shove the puny little nerd into his locker.
Most of Dan’s collection of cronies were sportsy, mean-spirited people who have always been the biggest strongest people in the room, so seeing this nerd flip the script on them certainly threw them for a loop. Clint was always a bit of a coward, so he was always going to be the first to beg.
“Adam, look man, I don’t know what you did, but I’m sorry man! Okay? Now please…”
“What I did is shrink you. Anybody could have told you that. And of course you’re sorry for bullying me. You’re all going to be sorry in just a second.”
He grabbed his duffle bag and started to root through it. He finally pulled out a cardboard box and sat it on the ground for everybody to see. Opening it up, he revealed a selection of tiny maid outfits. They all had a “Dolly’s Delights” tag on them, apparently the name of some specialty store for doll clothing, since all of the clothing looked designed to be designed for a plastic figurine and not a real person.
“These are going to be your new uniforms. Get used to them, because I expect you to wear them when you’re worshipping your new god’s body. We’ll start off easy. Put on your uniform, and start cleaning my feet. They’re pretty sweaty.”
Dan clearly wasn’t having any of this. The inch tall jock knew his place in the food chain, and it certainly wasn’t under this oversized loser.
“Yeah right, as if we’re going to do that, freak. You’re going to bring us back to full size right now before coach gets here and …”
“Oh, you mean Coach Wilstrom? He’s not coming. Well, I guess it’s more appropriate to say that he’s already here.” Adam punctuates this by patting his stomach. “He always took your side no matter how beaten and bruised you left me. You assholes would have been expelled years ago if he didn’t keep throwing his weight around on your behalf. The way I see it, there was nobody more worthy to be my test subject. Wouldn’t want to spray you fuckers with this and just leave you wet and angry, after all.”
Adam let out a loud burp and excused himself. Clint would have run away, but his legs could no longer obey him. His brain wouldn’t send any message to the rest of his body, too consumed with thoughts of what Adam would do next. If he had already eaten somebody, what else was he capable of?
Yet this abject cruelty only hardened Dan’s resolve. “You’re going to change me back right now, or I swear to god I’m going to rip your fucking throat out and…”
He thought was interrupted when Adam’s foot surged forward and kicked Dan in the jaw. He lay on the ground as Adam walked over to his fallen enemy and aimed the toenail of his big toe at the back of Dan’s knees. He screamed bloody murder as the toenail divided his thighs and calfs. At this point, Dan realized the sheer amount of danger he was in. Adam’s smirk grew into a full grin as his executioner’s blade separated Dan from his lower leg.
Dan crawled away as his goons watched dumbstruck. Adam started to squat over the fleeing man, watching the broken bug crawl away from the cruel tormentor. His hands came down in front of Dan and formed a wall in front of him. His lower arms came to rest next to Dan, boxing the guy in. Dan looked at his prey with hungry eyes.
“You know, Dan. Usually I’m the one looking up at you when we play these games. You would hold me down and dangle loogies over my head while I begged you to stop. It feels nice to finally see what it’s like looking down.”
Adam started building up spit in his mouth as Dan cried and pleaded for help. But none would come as a thick glob escaped Adam’s mouth suspended on a thin wet string. It started to sink down, but the mammoth boy sucked it back into his mouth. The game continued as the gross sphere emerged and hid again until the giant grew sick of holding himself back. The glob dropped squarely on Dan’s face. He tried to struggle to bring his head back to the surface through the viscous spittle, but Adam brought his finger down on the poor soul and held his face in the spit. Clint watched a few of the other jocks run away, and a few run to help Dan, but that wouldn’t do any good. They tried to scoop the spit away, but Adam simply rubbed some more on until the bubbles emerging from the spit finally ceased.
Adam stood back to his full height, a bulge heavily protruding from his tight black shorts. The titan looked down at the spit-soaked bully and raised his foot into the air. Everybody who had been trying to bail Dan from his saliva bath scattered as Adam’s foot slammed down with a wet smack right on top of Dan. Then again. Then again.
Adam started reaching into his shorts as his gleeful gaze pierced the red stain he was making on the changing room floor. He switched from simply stepping on the corpse to jumping on it, grinding his foot against his life-long tormentor. Adam had suffered under this asshole for years, and never once had Adam felt his frustrations vindicated as they were now. When he finally leaves his frenzy, he looks at the broken body and spits on it one last time to really hammer the point home.
Adam looked at his remaining bullies, calming down slightly. “I think I already explained your wardrobe to you. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Clint didn’t need to be told twice.*
This is the other story I should have uploaded here the other day and didn’t. Let me know what you guys think of it. Expect more chapters in the future.
CHAPTER 2: Cleaning Crew
Clint put on the striped panties, the short dress with a heart-shaped boob window, long black socks, an arpon, and finally a pair of flats. The cheap material itched all over. He wished Adam had picked a more comfortable set. He also picked up a bucket and mop, though he had no idea what he was going to be expected to do with it.
While two or three of Adam’s victims had also put on their outfits, the other shrunken men had gone into a wild panic. Adam went over to his duffle bags and pulled a roll of athletic tape and a tupperware container. Walking lazily over to one group of bullies that hadn’t managed to spread out, he plucked a few up and placed them in the container. As he returned, Clint recognized Bruce, Michael, and Sean banging on the plastic walls.
Adam sat back down on the bench and presented his feet for the miniature group of maids. He playfully wiggled his toes as the remains of Dan glistened on the bottom of his left foot. He looked down at the pathetic little creatures and smirked.
“Go ahead, worms. Make sure to get them extra clean. I would hate to have you all end up like Sean.”
He plucked Sean from the plastic container. As Sean rose higher and higher, he started bellowing at the top of his lungs, but he was so far away from the tiny maid boys below that they had no hope of hearing what he was saying.
“Awww, what cute little squeaks! Now pay attention, little bugs. And that doesn’t just apply to the puny guys at my feet. I’m giving each and every little guy here a chance to come back and start mopping up the mess Dan made on my foot. But not for you Sean. I already gave you a chance. I could give you a second chance, like I’m giving everybody else, but I don’t feel like it. Instead, I want to show you exactly what those purple nurples you gave me the other day felt like.”
Adam pressed the pad of his thumb against the shrunken jock’s chest and started twisting as the flesh peeled from his chest. The maids couldn’t tell what he was saying before, but his screams certainly caught their attention. Clint made a beeline for Adam’s right foot. He figured that cleaning the right foot would at least mean he wouldn’t have to look at the crimson puddle that used to be a human being as he worked.
The loud, almost primal, howls were diminished little by little until the boys bellow couldn’t hear anymore. But Adam could still hear the sound of him whimpering. He could still hear the squishing sound underneath his thumb. He could still feel the beating of Sean’s heart as it sped up in the initial panic, slowed down as he ran out of energy to fight the pain, and eventually stopped as Sean breathed his last breath.
Adam dropped Sean’s body on the floor. Where his chest used to be, a gaping hole was left so deep that a person could see the spine in his back from the front. A few of the maid boys turned around, transfixed by the gory mess made out of their compatriot. But Clint didn’t look back at Sean. Instead, he desperately scrubbed at Adam’s foot. One of the maids couldn’t take the sight and ran screaming. A few of the guys that had attempted to run earlier and had no luck getting away turned to the cruel behemoth as their last hope of escape. They hoped that if they ingratiate themselves to Adam, that he may show mercy. Or if not that, at least a delay in whatever cruel, unusual death he had in store for them.
Clint was joined in his scrubbing by a few more of his friends. Harold, Hank, and himself had taken to scrubbing the right foot, while a team of five were busy at work on the other foot. They attempted to scrub away the mess underneath like their lives depended on it, because in all probability, it did.
As they scrubbed, Clint noticed that the giant was getting a perverse sense of giddiness from the situation he had placed them all in. His hand was down the front of his shorts as the outline of the back of his hand stretching against the fabric of the shorts left no illusion as to what Adam was doing. Clint thought he was a gross freak, but wouldn’t dare to say such a thing to the monster’s face. Dan would have, but that was the reason Dan was a corpse. Clint knew from years of being bullied himself as a young child that standing up against bullies would only get you beaten and bruised. The only reason he had been part of Dan’s group for so long was that he knew how to suck up to power.
But what were a few bullies in the face of a god? Clint knew where his allegiance had to lie if he wanted to survive. And so he debased himself in front of the arrogant nerd until the right foot lifted away and Adam peeked at his sole, and then repeated the process for the left foot. Then he looked down at the maids cleaning his left foot.
“Is this really the best you fuckers could do? Look, there’s still blood on the ball of this sole. The other guys did far better. See, not even a single drop!”
The miniscule maids would have objected that the ball was far too high up for them to reach, that they weren’t given adequate time, and that the right foot didn’t even have blood on it, but Adam couldn’t hear them, nor would he care. For all their screaming and begging and excuse making, the former bullies were all crushed under Adam’s left foot as the trio under his right sole trembled in their frilly dresses. A dark spot developed in the front of Adam’s shorts.
“Looks like you three have some more cleaning to do!”*
Sorry about the long wait between chapters, but I hit a bit of a slump, and was having trouble mapping out where I wanted this series to go. I finally have a good impression on what needs to be done, and look forward to sharing my story with you.
As always, your thoughts and opinions are welcome. Let me know what you think!
Chapter 3: Polishing
Clint couldn’t process what he was seeing. Adam brought his hand down to snatch up the three tinies still waiting beneath his foot. Everyone else had already perished brutally. He dropped the trio into the tupperware with Bruce and Michael. Honestly, with all the peril Clint had been in, he had completely forgotten that Adam still had those two. Adam dropped maid outfits for Bruce and Michael to wear into the container. They didn’t need to be told what to do. They put on the slutty, uncomfortable attire, not wanting to incur Adam’s wrath any further that they already had.
Adam sat the tupperware down and slid his shorts and underwear down his body. His body rocked back and forth, and his hips undulated. It seemed that Adam was giving his prisoners a show, though Clint wasn’t in much of a mood to appreciate it. Nor was anybody else inside the box. But Adam’s strip tease was hardly a long one. He only needed to bring it past his thick thighs, and gravity did the rest.
His long hard rod sprung out from the tight, wet sports shorts. Thin strands of cum formed a web against his cock and pubic hair. Adam looked down proudly at how big the mess he had made in his pants truly was. It was a good thing he had a few maids to help with cleaning duty.
He sat back down and dumped the contents of his tupperware into his lap. The terror on the little guys’ faces was all he needed to see for his dick to perk right back up. Harold retched from landing face-first is a puddle of odorous, disgusting cum. Clint, in contrast, didn’t even notice the sopping mess underneath his ass. His view was locked in place as he made eye contact with the cruel guy that had tormented him so thoroughly.
“Okay, slaves! I have an important job for you to do. Your friend felt too good when I squished them, so I came all over myself. I can’t leave the locker room looking like this, so it looks like I need my maid service to get to cleaning. Though I did forget to grab your buckets and mops when I brought you all up here. Thankfully, your little bodies can make all the liquid you’ll ever need. Get to licking! I want it all gone~”
Michael, having never been the brightest mind on planet Earth, raised his hand. Adam, almost bemused, decided to humor him.
“We’re in the locker room already. Why don’t you just use the shower?”
Adam dragged Michael down the length of his shaft up to the tip of his penis. He smeared Michael’s face in his precum as he pressed the puny guy against his squishy head.
“Because, numbnuts, My balls are still full and crying for another release. You wouldn’t want me to clean myself up just for me to cum again, would you? So if I don’t feel your pathetic tongue scraping up this mess, and hear your puny voice thanking me for the privilege, we’re going to have a problem. And that goes for all of you. I don’t want to see a drop on my crotch.”
Clint hopped into action first and started sucking the baby batter from his pubes before it could have a chance to dry. Hank tried to make his way to Adam’s ballsack, while Bruce and Harold went out towards the shaft. As they got to work, Adam’s dick pulsed in his grip. If he hadn’t been pressing Michael against his tip, his throbbing penis would have flung it’s passengers away a while ago.
Bruce and Harold started in the middle of his shaft, with Bruce heading towards the base and Harold heading towards the tip. Harold was still trying to shake the slippery, gooey cum from his own body, when his eyes caught Michael’s face. The combination of the pressure put on his chest and the precum covering his mouth and nostrils left him very light on breath. His skin was turning an odd shade as he gasped for what little air he could. Harold couldn’t peel his eyes away at the horrible sight. But even so, he continued to lick not wanting to share Michael’s fate.
Unfortunately, as the job almost reached its close, Harold’s hand slipped. He tried to catch himself, but his cum-soaked body couldn’t get any traction and he fell with a thud onto the bench. He managed to survive his fall, but only just barely. His legs were broken, and a few of his ribs snapped. But even worse, he caught Adam’s attention.
Adam felt a tickle as the small bully slid off. He was on the edge of bursting again even before that, but between Michael wiggling against his tip, Hank massaging his balls as he crawled, and Clint and Bruce lapping near his pubes and base, he couldn’t help but jack off. As his hand moved up and down the shaft, Michael came along for the ride. Michael’s bones creaked and bended under the pressure. His skin tore to shreds. His guts spilled from his body and adhered to the massive rod.
Bruce saw the giant hand approach him and jumped back into Adam’s pubes. If he hadn’t been so close to them already, he would have been crushed flat against his base as Adam’s hand worked his shaft. Harold tried to crawl away so he wouldn’t get squished under Adam’s balls, but Adam stood up before that could happen. Before Harold could be thankful, Adam turned around and faced him. As he rubbed his cock, he pointed it directly at Harold.
“Remember all those times you stole my clothes from the locker room just so you could make fun of the size of my cock, Harold? Well, how do you like it now?”
Adam’s knees buckled as he prepared for the sweet release. Bruce and Clint hung on to his crotch hairs so they wouldn’t fall off, which put them in a far better position than Hank, who used every bit of muscle he had to keep himself from falling from Adam’s ballsack as it swung wildly. By now Michael was nothing more than a red smear against Adam’s dick, lubricating the shaft. Harold stared up at the pulsing member, as though staring down the barrel of a gun.
And in a flash, Adam released the full content of his balls onto Harold. He tried to claw out of the gooey mess Adam made on the bench, but not only were his limbs smashed, but the shoddy fabric the maid outfit was made off became heavy on his body as it got wet with cum. Harold tried to poke his head out for just the slightest bit of air, but failed in the end. The bubbles eventually stopped rising.
Adam sat back down next to the puddle he made, and looked at the three remaining. Against all odds, not only had Clint and Bruce survived the ordeal, but Hank as well. As Adam’s cock slowly became flaccid, Clint tried to wipe the mess that was left of Michael off Adam’s cock. Adam stopped him, however.
After all, he had big plans for Hank, Bruce, and Clint.
Chapter 4: The Shoe’s on the Other Foot
Adam set the three remaining maids down and slid his underwear and shorts back on. Looking over his prey, he drank in the fear they experienced looking up at the man who held their future in his hands. Like an owl pondering a den of baby mice in the night, he stared with eager, predatory eyes.
“Now let’s see. Which of you three should I mess with next? How about you, Bruce? You’ve never hesitated to mess with me!”
And with that, his fate was sealed. After everything he had seen, he broke down and started crying. Clint didn’t know Bruce too terribly well in the grand scheme of things. They hung around the same people, but they never really hung out or got to know each other without somebody like Dan or Harold soaking up the spotlight. But it was still strange and surreal to see him brought to such a state. He didn’t seem the type, though given the current circumstances, you could hardly blame him.
Bruce began to complain about the unfairness of everything he had been put through. That Adam should just suck it up and quit being a baby about all the harmless pranks they had pulled on him. Why did Adam have to take things this far? He was just being the same weak little nerd that couldn’t take what the jocks were dishing out. Adam’s smirk turned to a frown, then a grimace. He got so mad, heat practically emanated from every pore. Eventually, he snapped.
“See, this is why you fucking assholes need to be taught a lesson! Even after all this, how are you still this dense? How could you still not understand how fucked up the shit you pulled actually was? Well, that’s all about to change! I’m just going to make you walk a mile in my shoes, and I’ll walk a mile in yours. Hopefully by the end of this fun little excursion, we can understand each other’s perspectives better. I know I’m loving what I learned from this experience.”
Adam piled Hank and Clint into the tupperware again and walked over to Bruce’s locker. The door hadn’t been shut before Adam shrank the bullies. It occurred in not but an instant. Adam began to root through Bruce’s stuff until he found exactly what he was looking for. He pulled out a pair of worn, soggy, beat-up sneakers.
Bruce’s foot sweat was pretty infamous around the school. You could usually smell Bruce coming before you saw him coming. It was especially bad right after a long day of physical activity. Adam had often been forced into the arrogant prick’s locker with his foul footwear. But today was different. Now he was the one in control.
Adam picked up the shoe’s owner by the collar of the maid outfit, dangling him over the mouth of the odorous sneakers. Bruce felt his eyes water from the smell. His funk was sometimes hard for even himself to stomach. And that was at his regular size. At his new diminutive height, he couldn’t even process the foul aroma wafting from his footwear. The fingers pinching his collar separated and he tumbled with a wet splat onto the shoe’s insole.
Adam slid his foot into the sneaker. Liquid oozed between his toes and covered every inch of his sole. Adam couldn’t tell if he had already squished the fluids out of Bruce’s miniscule body, or his weight had simply brought the sweat already permeating the insole up to the surface. Whether by bleeding out or drowning in his own sweat, the belligerent jock wouldn’t be long for the world.
The truth of the matter was that it was actually a combination of both, Bruce had initially tried to run to the toe of his malodorous mausoleum, but his leg got tangled in a loose thread and face planted into the sole. As his victim turned tormentor slid his toes over the shrunken man, the now pinned microscopic man instead tried to stay under the arch of the sole. But the ball of his foot landed squarely on his arm, instantly turning it to a red splotch on the bottom of Adam’s sock.
To make matters worse, the space beneath Adam’s arch filled up with Bruce’s stale sweat as the weight of his foot squeezed it out of the insole like a sponge under a rolling pin. Adam’s lungs filled with putrid, salty water. His eyelids slammed shut as the foul liquid burned his eyes. But all the energy left to muster to continue the fight had already been expended. He could only pray that the end of his torment would come soon.
No such luck for him though. Adam set the pedometer on his watch to zero. Once he’d walked a full mile in these sneakers, he’d let what was left of Bruce out, but there was little chance of him living to tell the tale. He licked his lips as he picked Hank and Clint’s prison back up and put his shirt back on.
Now that he was dressed once more, he decided to take his new shoes out for a test run. Only two of the remaining bullies had put on dresses and cooperated in his games, and so it was time for the rest to pay. Adam went around the locker room stomping each remaining revenge target one by one. Hank shut his eyes, while Clint watched in awe. There had been about 30 people in the locker room when the day began, and now each one disappeared underneath Adam as he stomped and trampled them for sport. The sheer power this titan held both stunned and spooked the broken maid. Clint could only stare as this mammoth giggled in mirth at the brutality he administered to the crowd until he was satisfied that the only two people left to be angry at were in the plastic prison.
Adam stuffed the two and their carrying case into his bag and made his way home, making sure to walk to his house in the sweltering sun. After all, he owed it to Bruce to get his punishment over with quickly, didn’t he?*
What lies in store for the last of our surviving tinies when they reach Adam’s house? Find out next time!
Returning to this story because I was feeling inspired. Let me know what you think! All feedback is appreciated.
Chapter 5: The Monster over the Bed
Adam threw open the door to his home and kicked off his shoes. He was so thoroughly drenched in sweat that his clothing left very little to the imagination about his unimpressive physique. He peeled off his socks and took a peek at what remained of Bruce. His arm was flattened into nothing, and his face had turned a deep shade of blue from suffocation. Satisfied with his work, Adam threw Bruce’s body into the trash and headed to his room. Entering his room, he threw his bag onto the bed and sat down next to it.
Hank and Clint sat in the humid darkness accompanied by nothing but each other and the sway of the duffle bag as they sat in their glass prison. With no stimulus outside, but too scared to get any rest, they sat in silence. Then with a sudden jolt, a sudden surge of motion caused the pair to collide with the wall of their container with a loud smack. Clint went dizzy from smashing headfirst into the side of the tupperware, while Hank’s ankle snapped.As they were recovering, a loud zipping sound was heard as light poured into the bag. A shadow covered them from the new light source as the enormous face of their captor loomed over the opening.
“There we are. Welcome home. Don’t get too comfortable. You aren’t going to be here long. Come on, I want to show you where we’re going to play the last game of the day. Let’s get you out of there.”
Adam’s hands reached into the bag and brought it to the light. With that, Clint and Hank got a pretty expansive view of their new surroundings. Movie posters for old sci-fi movies lined each wall. Weird robot models filled the shelves of bookcase after bookcase. His desk was strewn with papers from homework and his own side projects. It was pretty much the sort of bedroom Hank would expect of the nerd he had been bullying all this time. Though with the revelation of what his fate would end as, the room’s color scheme of light greens and rich blues was almost too cheery for what may end up being his tomb. Clint was still reeling from his head injury and wasn’t in much of a space to reflect on his environment
Adam pried open the container and dumped the two onto his teal bedsheets and looked at them with an almost childlike glee.
“Today’s been fun, but I have stuff to do. So I have time for one more game, and if you survive, I’ll let you go. What do you say, little maid boys?”
Both nodded as enthusiastically as they could, which wasn’t much for either given their injuries. Perhaps in other circumstances, this would have displeased the sadistic tormentor, but he was so excited about his own cruel game that he really didn’t care.
“The game is simple. You know how kids hide under the covers at night when they think there’s a monster under their bed? Well, compared to you, I must be the biggest monster you’ll ever come across. So you both hide underneath the covers and I’ll try to find you without lifting the sheets. The one who gets caught last wins and gets to go home. The one who gets caught first… I think you have a pretty good guess by now. I’ll give you until the count of 50. But first…”
Adam grabbed the shrink ray from his bag and messed with a few dials. He pointed and fired at the duo, who quickly felt the world around them expand. Soon, neither were bigger than a grain of rice. While both were trying to get their new bearings, Adam dropped them near the edge of his teal blanket. They tried to look around for an escape, but the now even more gargantuan titan started counting down. With no other option readily apparent, they dived deep into the fabric canopy.
Hank struggled to crawl forward with his busted leg. He simply dragged himself forward as far as he could and hoped it would be enough. Clint, by contrast, quickly got disoriented in the dark and panicked. He stumbled about, trying his best not to attract attention from the giant outside, lest he give away his own location.
“5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Ready or not, here I come!”
Adam slammed his hand down on the matress. The springy mattress gave a little beneath his palm. He felt the blanket, the sheets, and the mattress, but none of his maid boys. He lifted his hand and slammed against the bed a little to the left of where he slapped last time, but still no dice.
The two felt the mattress give way, the floor shifting beneath them. The hand had come down pretty close to Clint, but he could feel where the slap was coming from, which helped him reclaim his bearings. Hank was pretty far from the initial impact, but the second impact was getting closer. He tried to go faster, but with his leg as it was nothing could be done.
Thankfully though, Adam shifted his efforts closer to the middle of the mattress, where Hank had already passed. Clint, just focused on avoiding the last impact zone, was sent around in a circle. He tried in vain to navigate away from the hand while not making any sudden movements to give away his position.
Hank continued to crawl until his hand slipped and reached out to nothing. He had crawled so far that he was actually at the end of the bed. He instinctively reached out to catch himself so he wouldn’t fall off and latched onto the sheets. Unfortunately, this would prove a fatal error, as Adam noticed rustling from the foot of his mattress.
“Well, well, well. Looks like somebody’s trying to climb off the back end of the bed to safety. Not on my watch!”
Hank didn’t have anywhere to go and quickly felt the cloth walls around him press around him as Adam pinched him through the sheets. At first, it was only enough to confirm he caught his prey, but soon the pressure built. First, he felt his ribs break. Then his lungs compressed. Until finally, his entire body popped in Adam’s grasp. He was so small, what blood he had couldn’t even seep through to the outer layer of the blanket.
Adam went back to the head of the sheets and threw the covers off to see which of the two maids made it to the end.
“Looks like the other little guy was right in the middle the whole time. Looks like I just barely missed you, slave boy. If you had been just a bit slower, I would have gotten you. Are you Clint? You’re so hard to see down there! But still, a winner’s a winner! Are you ready for your reward?”
Chapter 6: The End?
Clint woke up with a clanging headache in the middle of a wooded area. The first thing he noticed was that he no longer seemed to be small. The second thing was that he seemed to be in the middle of the park near his house, tucked somewhat out of sight.
He was certain that what he had experienced was real. There was no way all of his memories between being in the locker room and ending in the park would just disappear like that. The headache he received from hitting his head was still there. He stood up and realized he felt uncomfortable. Looking down, he realized he was still wearing the maid outfit!
Everything was too bizarre for the baffled high school senior, so he made his way back home, trying not to be seen in the odd costume. As he scampered away, he puzzled over his situation. On the one hand, it seemed imperative that he let the authorities know what Adam had done. On the other, his story seemed outrageously far-fetched, and he knew that a cheap looking maid costume was hardly decisive evidence.
Arriving back home before his parents, Clint went to his room and flopped onto the bed, comforted in the face that he was his normal size. He remembered the cruel torment Adam had put him through. How he had shrunk and crushed so many of his friends with a cruel grin on his face. The power he held over them and his willingness to use it to execute the tiny people with impunity. How he had even used his tormentees as cum rags until they broke. His superiority…
Clint came to his senses, realizing he had spaced out. He then noticed that his hand was down the front of his skirt. He yanked it out, disgusted with himself. He threw off all the garments he was wearing, changing into something more comfortable. He knew he had to do something about the maid outfit. He didn’t want his parents to see it, but he wanted to keep it handy in case the trail of the murdered bullies ever traced back to Adam. He threw the maid outfit into the back of his closet hidden under a few old boxes.
The next day, the beleaguered jock came into school in a hoodie and a pair of baggy sweatpants. News had already gotten around that a number of the school’s athletes had gone missing, along with the school’s coach. The police were on the search, but Clint knew that they wouldn’t find anything. After all, there was nothing to find except a few miniscule red splotches that a janitor had probably already cleaned up by now.
During his first period class, Adam sat directly in front of Clint. On his way to his seat, Adam flashed the frightened classmate a satisfied smirk. Clint’s mind raced as he rushed to his seat. Looking down, it seems that Adam was wearing his own shoes instead of the ones he stole from Bruce and smothered him inside. But the feet that had done the smothering were still there, slid completely out of Adam’s sandals, playfully taunting Clint. They both knew what atrocities those feet were capable of.
Clint spent the rest of the day on edge, watching out behind himself in case Adam ever decided to finish what he started. When the final period started and gym rolled around, Clint was the only person there. Most of that class had gone missing under mysterious circumstances, so it had been given to the few who remained as a free period. A couple of students had just gone home, but Clint wanted to look around the lockers to see if he could find anything to nail down Adam. As he searched, he noticed a rustling from inside the trash can. Could it possibly be…
It was! Peeking inside the garbage bin, he spotted the shrunken form of his friend Zack. He was shivering from the cold and frightened for his life, but he still lived. Clint cupped his hands and lowered it into the trash can. Zach looked up and recognized Clint. Relieved, he stepped onto his palm. The poor scared tiny was relieved to have reunited with his friend at a time like this.
“Oh thank god, it’s you! I can’t believe it. I thought for sure I was the last one left. Everybody else seemed to have been either smashed underfoot or taken out unaware by the cleaning staff. How did you manage to escape? And for that matter, how did you bring yourself back to normal?”
“It’s a long story. For now, I’m going to put you in my hoodie pocket. Just stay quiet, and I’ll get you some help.”
Zach went deep inside Clint’s pocket and snuggled up, warming himself after being naked in the trash all night. Clint knew well that Zach was the only hope he would ever have of bringing down Adam. He thought about all the people Adam had ended under his soles, in his mouth, in his grasp, and even against his cock. With this proof, it could all be made right. Zach hopped into his car with urgency.
Clint stepped out of his car and made his way over to the house. This was it. This would be the final confrontation. He had to make sure he did this right. He walked directly up to the door and knocked. The man who answered gave him the cold glare, as if to convey disappointment in him.
“Really? After everything you still haven’t learned? Are you going to try to beat me up and take my gun? That won’t work; I don’t keep the shrink ray at home. I would watch your back when you go to school tomorrow if I were you, because it looks like you’re in need of some more punishme…”
Clint removed the shrunken man from his pocket. Adam realized that he must have missed somebody before. Realizing he could be caught, he tried to run away to collect his shrink ray, but the hoodie-sporting man grabbed him by the arm and wouldn’t let go. It was all over for him. He would be brought to the police and made to pay for his crimes.
Clint brought the arm he was latched onto closer and pried the fist attached open, placing the small man inside. Zach and Adam were stunned, not sure what was going on, until Clint let go of Adam. He grabbed the bottom of the hoodie and pulled it over his head to show the maid outfit hiding beneath.
Adam smiled as his fist closed around the last remaining shrunken pet. It seems he made a good choice in letting this one live after all. He guided Clint into his home, squeezing the life out of Zach as they made their way inside.