It was a quiet morning, a pleasure that was few and far between for Jon these days. He laid on his cot in the darkened, musty room, watching dust dance in the light creeping in through the bottom of the door. The scratchy blanket he’d been provided tickled his bare skin as he rolled onto his back. It was a blessing during the cold nights but what he wouldn’t give for something less irritating. 

A loud thump and creaking of floorboards startled him, breaking the peaceful silence he’d been enjoying and drawing his attention back to the door.The light was gone, blocked by something large and undoubtedly very heavy. He sighed and pulled the blanket aside as two solid knocks threatened to knock the door off its hinges and sent dust drifting down from the low roof. 

“Awake in there? I need you to go get Layla out of bed. She has practice at noon.”

Not an unexpected first task of the day. Layla Barton, the youngest daughter of the household, was a chronic oversleeper. Especially so on weekends. It was a whole nother ordeal to get her up on time for school during the week. After hopping off the small cot Jon grabbed one of the few articles of clothing he owned and slipped it on over his naked form. The ratty pair of underwear had been given to him when he first arrived at the Barton household over a year ago. He was fairly certain it used to belong to one of the girls when they were younger. The pink unicorns were a dead giveaway.

He pushed open the door to his room, squinting as the bright light poured in. His small crawl space under the stairs wasn’t much. It was dark and dusty, and he heard every footstep on the staircase above, but he still preferred it to spending time out in the house. There was a kind of comforting safety to the cramped living quarters. Inside he could pretend things were somewhat normal, everything out here just reminded him of his new status in life. Case in point, Sarah Barton.

The towering woman looked down her nose at him, an impatient expression on a face framed by dark blonde hair. As matriarch of the house she was frequently the one dolling out chores, but had otherwise treated him fairly. As long as he did what he was told and didn’t make a fuss then she mostly left him to his own devices. Mostly.

“Let Mia know that lunch’ll be ready soon on your way.” She added while checking her watch.

“Right away Mrs. Barton.” Jon said, craning his neck back and flashing a thumbs up, then quickly lowering his gaze. He felt so emasculated staring up at her from his lowly position, not that looking at her knee was much better. Depending on the angle he sometimes couldn’t even see her face past her chest. 

She stomped off in the direction of the kitchen without another word. He watched her go silently. In his previous life she would’ve been his type. She had the calm, confident demeanor of someone who had survived raising three teenage girls mostly on her own, not to mention a nice figure and eyes that seemed to see right through him. He shook the thought from his head, then turned and headed for the stairs. 

“Huf.. I hate.. Fuh.. Stairs..” Jon panted, pausing at the top to catch his breath. 

Yet another thing that shrinking had made much more difficult. There were cases much more extreme than his however, so he still considered himself lucky. Being two feet tall was a cakewalk compared to five inches. Not only was he less likely to be squashed by an unaware pedestrian, it meant that he was able to qualify for D.I.E. 

Despite the menacing name, his time in the Diminished Individuals Employment program’s facility had been rather hopeful. The volunteers there seemed to feel for the plight of those affected by the shrinking pandemic, and the prospect of not living in a government funded facility for the rest of his life was appealing. At least now he was able to say he was earning his keep. 

Prior to the pandemic he worked for a factory that manufactured car parts. Needless to say the clanging machinery and fast paced production line was a deathtrap for someone his size. He wasn’t told what he was going to be doing in his new job until the day he was to be picked up by his “employer.” Household Helper. That had been the job title filling the blank on his contract. Duties included assisting with everyday operations of the Barton house and any other miscellaneous duties as the homeowner saw fit. That was over a year ago, although it felt like a lifetime.

Jon stopped in front of Mia’s bedroom door, pulling himself out of his reminiscing. The tall door had been left ajar slightly, just enough for someone his size to squeeze through. He knocked twice then poked his head in. “Hey Mia, your mother almost has lunch ready.”

Looking up from the textbook she was reading on her bed, Mia smiled warmly at his arrival, tucking a stray strand of ash blonde hair behind her ear. She was laying on her stomach with the book in front of her, wearing a baggy gray hoodie emblazoned with the logo of the local college and a short pair of spandex gym shorts that barely peeked out from below the bottom edge of the hoodie. 

“Thanks for the heads up. I’ll head down once I’m finished this last page.” She replied warmly, tapping a pen against the page.

He returned her smile. He liked Mia. Ever since his first day at Casa de Barton Mia had been a kind and friendly presence. She treated him like an actual person despite his size. He figured her empathy for his situation had something to do with being the neglected middle child. It was either that or she pitied him, but she was too nice for that.

“Whatcha reading now? Still statistics?” He asked, stepping into the room and leaning against the doorframe. 

Mia’s room was pretty basic, the kind of room you’d see as the backdrop for a girl’s social media feed. String lights dangled across the wall above the bed, which housed a plethora of pillows piled up against the iron bed frame. Photos from various international trips were pinned to the wall above a desk cluttered with school supplies, and a fluffy, pink shag rug covered the majority of the floor. There were even some modifications made to allow Jon to move around easier, such as the stepladder she’d placed near the end of the bed. Little touches like that just made him feel more welcome. 

“Ugh.. Not this time thank god.” She replied, shuddering at the mere thought of the subject that was the bane of her blossoming college career. “This riveting book is all about the wonderful world of Calculus.”

“Sounds magical.” Jon teased. He may be the size of a small toddler, but at least he didn’t have to worry about things like tests or homework ever again.

“Oh it is.” She replied, after sticking her tongue out playfully at him. “Maybe you can help me study later? Ya know ask me questions and stuff. It would be less boring with company.”

“Sure thing. You know where to find me.” He couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening. “I’ve gotta go wake up Layla, talk to you later.” 

“Oh wait up! I’ll open her door for you. I think she shut it last night..” She said, pushing herself off the bed and striding towards him before he could protest. 

Even sweet and gentle Mia was an intimidating presence when she stood up. He still felt the instinctual pang of fear whenever a regular sized person approached too quickly, like his body was telling him to run from a charging elephant. Her long legs seemed to stretch on forever, pillars of pale flesh that dwarfed him, making him feel all the smaller. She was only 5’6”, a full head shorter than his former height, but that didn’t matter anymore. Now he was but a child to her.

She strode past him, opening the door and making her way down the hall towards her younger sister’s room. Jon followed behind, doing his best to keep up with her long strides. Each of her footsteps sent a jolt of energy through his body. He imagined this is what walking beside a dinosaur would feel like, the power and weight of each step clearly evident to anyone nearby.

The door to Layla’s room yielded to Mia far easier than it would have him. He was glad she offered to help, as he didn’t know how he would have opened it without her. She was about to step inside when he stopped her. “Wait wait! You’ve done enough. Go back to your homework. I’ve got it from here.”

“You sure? I don’t mind..” She started, before he cut her off.

He tried to look sure of himself, putting his hands on his hips and flashing a smile. “Yes I’m sure. I’ve woken her up before and I can do it again.” From the way Mia smirked back at him he wasn’t confident it had translated in the way he hoped. 

“Alright... If you say so. I’ll be right down the hall if you change your mind!” She said with a concerned smile. She strode off, giving him one last wave before disappearing into her room.

Alone once more, Jon turned towards the now open portal to the youngest Barton daughter’s room. He could hear the sounds of slumber emanating from the pile of blankets on the bed. Based on past attempts to wake the sleeping princess he knew this was going to be tough. Steeling himself, he took a breath and stepped inside.

The curtains were drawn, giving the room a red hue as the sun shone through the fabric. Jon noticed with annoyance that all the hard work he had put in tidying the dirty laundry and haphazardly tossed soccer cleats scattered across the floor had been undone. It had taken him hours to do, and it had all been undone by one lazy 18 year old in less than a day. No doubt she would get him to repeat the laborious process the next time Sarah nagged her to clean up. He sighed and put it out of his mind for now. A task for another day.

As he stepped over crumpled socks and sweat stained t-shirts that reeked of effort he was once again reminded of how athletic Layla was. It was the only area of her life that she seemed to commit any energy to, and he couldn’t deny that he was impressed by her work ethic when it came to sports. Now if only she could apply that to getting up at a reasonable time.

As Jon reached the foot of the bed, a series of soft snorts came from the mattress above. She was still totally zonked out.. He hoped it wouldn’t be too difficult to get her moving. Strolling around to the front, Jon stood on his tiptoes to get a better look at the situation up there. Layla was in fact asleep, mouth hanging open and drooling onto the scrunched up pillow jammed between her outstretched arm and head. 

“Layla! Hey Layla! Wake up!” Jon called, his chin resting on the edge of the bed. As he waited for a response he remarked on just how similar the young girl looked to her mother. She had the same dark blonde hair, which was currently splayed out in a frizzy mess around her head and shoulders, as well as the same piercing eyes, when they weren’t shut tight that is. 

She stirred, then rolled over with a disgruntled sounding moan, turning to face away from Jon. He noticed that she had gone to bed in one of her sports bras again, probably without showering too. It was a habit he was all too familiar with, given that he regularly had to wash her pungent sheets. Seeing that he’d need to do more than shout at her to get results, Jon hoisted himself up onto the bed, using the gap between the mattress and the boxspring as a foothold. 

On his hands and knees, Jon crawled across the slightly damp bed and kneeled beside the snoozing girl’s back. “Come on Layla... Up and at’em.” He said, poking her in the shoulder forcefully, then placing both hands on her shoulder and pushing, trying to shake her into the waking world. 

She groaned again, “Ngh.. Donwanna..” Grumbling in her sleep as she began to roll back over in an effort to eliminate the disturbance poking at her body. 

Jon’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. “Whoa whoa! Wai-” 

It was too late for him to get out of the way of Layla’s steamrolling body. As she rolls onto her back his legs are pinned beneath her heavy, warm torso, although not painfully so thanks to the cushy mattress. The slumbering titaness wasn’t stopping there however. She continued rolling backwards, crushing Jon under her body until she stopped in the same position she had started at. She mumbled happily to herself in her sleep, squirming her body to get comfortable once more. 

Unbearable heat and crushing pressure was all he felt underneath Layla. Jon could already feel himself starting to sweat, or at least he hoped that was his sweat… When the girl had finally came to a stop he found himself smothered by her torso, his body pressed between hers and the bed from his upper thigh to his neck. His head was jammed into the space between her upper right arm and her chest. The malleable flesh of her breasts conformed around his frame, forcing him into an uncomfortable embrace. 

“Gtuoofff!” He grunted, his words muffled by the muscle closing in around his face. 

She responded to his pleas by sighing happily, slipping back into whatever dream he had interrupted. 

Trapped and starting to panic, Jon struggled, kicking his legs against the bed and straining every muscle in his body but ultimately doing little to shift the mountain of oppressive weight. He breathed harder as he exerted himself, the pungent, sour odor emanating from her pits stinging his nostrils. She definitely hadn’t showered last night. 

How pathetic he felt. Bested by a sleeping teen. Before shrinking he probably could’ve picked up her slim 5’4” frame easily. Now he could barely move, pinned like a wrestler fighting outside his weight class. All he could do was breathe in the air filtered through her pits, contaminated by her stale scent. He briefly considered trying to call out to Mia, but the idea of her rescuing him from this humiliating position was too embarrassing to give a second thought.

He struggled again, groaning into Layla’s armpit in an increasingly desperate attempt to wake her. The bare flesh squeezed tighter around him, pressing his head between her arm and abdomen. Sweat beaded into his eyes, forcing them shut as he groaned in discomfort. He was going to have to resort to more drastic measures and fast.. Biting her seemed like his only option.

Acting quickly he opened his mouth and tried to get a mouthful of armpit, cringing as an ill-timed droplet of salty perspiration rolled onto his tongue. He coughed and gagged on the secretion, spitting it out before trying to bite again. Try as he might he could not get a grip on the slippery skin surrounding him. He grunted in frustration as another droplet of sweat splashed onto his forehead. Failure seemed inevitable, until one last idea popped into his head.

Mentally preparing himself with a few breaths of acrid air, Jon stuck his tongue out and pressed it into the clammy flesh holding him hostage. He dragged his tongue upwards with a jerk of his neck, twisting it awkwardly to cover as much ground as possible. The taste of hard work exploded on his taste buds. He suppressed a gag as he licked again.

Layla shivered, her body twitching in response to his tongue. Was it working? He had to keep going. Jon licked faster, covering as much of her pit as he could reach until he wasn’t sure what was sweat and what was saliva. Finally, after a full minute and a half of licking, he heard the sweet words he’d been waiting for.

“Mm.. What.. What the fuck..” Layla groaned, half asleep and very confused by the odd sensation. She quickly pushed herself off the bed, lifting her torso up and rolling to the side. “Jon?!” She exclaimed, her shock transitioning to amusement in a heartbeat. She laughed, grabbing her phone and snapping a picture of his tired and moist form. “You know if you wanted to sleep with me you coulda just asked..”

“I.. didn’t mean.. You.. Nevermind.. You have practice at noon.. Your mother sent me to get you up..” He explained, between gasps of fresh air.

“And you thought the best way to do that was to crawl under me and lick my armpit? Weird method, but whatever floats your kinky boat little guy.” She teased, raising her arms into the arm and stretching to shake the sleep from her body. “Mol is gonna get a kick out of this one later.”

“Please don’t tell- Ah!” Jon started to protest, but was interrupted by Layla crawling out of bed over top of him. A large knee slammed down to his left, nearly crushing him as her body sailed overhead.

He knew it was largely useless to try and get her to spare his dignity, but he could at least try. It wouldn’t be the first time she shared a compromising photo of him with her teammates. More than once he’d had the images of a group of teenagers giggling and mocking him in the locker room after practice haunting his thoughts while he tried to sleep.

Ignoring her bedmate, Layla began undressing, tugging the damp sports bra over her head and tossing it in the general direction of her closet. It landed with a wet splat a good five feet from the hamper. The pair of underwear she had been wearing followed closely behind it. 

She caught a whiff of her pits and visibly recoiled. ”Whew! I’m ripe. Don’t know how you could stand it J.” She exclaimed, turning to face him, her bare breast on full display. “Maybe you liked it huh?”

“N-no! I..” Jon stammered, blushing at both the teasing and her casual nudity. He did his best to not stare at her toned body, which only made his discomfort all the more obvious.

Layla giggled, “You can look if you want, I don’t really care. It feels like changing in front of a cat or something ya know?” 

A cat. He was like a housepet to her. Add another note to the emasculation list.. Although he found himself having a hard time blaming her for feeling that way. He’d been serving the women of this house for over a year. Acting on their every whim and call. He would probably feel the same way about someone after so long.

While Jon wallowed in a puddle of sweat and shame Layla was sniffing articles of clothing from her bedroom floor, trying to find one that was suitable enough to be worn in public. Eventually she found a simple pair of black leggings and a loose fitting gray tee. As she was pulling her hair back into a tight pony she sniffed the air excitedly.

“Oh shit. You didn’t tell me mom was doing stir fry!” She exclaimed, hurrying to the door as her stomach grumbled. She paused by the door and looked back at Jon, who was busy hopping off the bed. “Oh! Pack my cleats and other soccer stuff for me and bring it down to the front door! Thankyuuu!”

Before Jon could say another word she was gone, leaving him alone in the middle of her messy room. He sighed and started scouring for her uniform, which was of course scattered in multiple pieces across the floor.

After a half hour of lugging smelly cleats and soccer socks that were way overdue for a wash later, Jon had nearly gotten the heavy duffel bag to the bottom of the stairs. He huffed and heaved one final time, then tumbled ass backwards onto the hardwood floor as the bag tumbled to a stop beside him.

“Well.. At least.. it didn’t land on me..” He wheezed, laying on the floor where he landed to catch his breath.

The sound of chatter from the kitchen caught his attention as he pushed himself to his feet. He could hear Layla’s loud laughter and Mia’s cute giggling. Sarah’s reserved voice denying something. As well as another voice that was very familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. Curious, Jon made his way towards the kitchen, pausing for a moment at the door to his crawl space and debating just hiding inside, but curiosity won out.

Stepping into the room, Jon scanned right to left. Seated at the table was Layla, halfway through a sentence with a full mouth of stir fried veggies. Mia was leaning against the counter nearby, with Mrs. Barton was busy cleaning out something in the sink. Finally his eyes landed on the source of the mysteriously familiar voice. It was Caroline, the eldest Barton daughter..

Jon stops dead in his tracks, focused on the newcomer. He hadn’t seen her since his first month, when she had come back from her out of state college for a week. It had been the hardest week he’d had to endure in his entire tenure at the Barton house... 

Caroline locked eyes with him as everyone else noticed his presence. A smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Hello Jon. Long time no see…”