Harry glanced at the clock as he polished off his fourth coffee of the day. 7pm already - how had the day passed so quickly?

He looked to his right where a pretty brunette sat, hard at work. 21 year old Emily was the company's bright young thing; a First Class Degree from Oxford University spoke for itself, but it was her fearsome drive and ruthlessness that impressed Harry most about her. She'd already been given several high profile cases and won them all.

"Got much on?" Harry said, stifling a yawn.

She gave an audible sigh before sinking back into her chair. "I spend every waking hour on the Harrogate Case at the moment. I’m even starting to dream about Julian Harrogate, frankly it’s getting a little worrying,” she answered with a awkward giggle.

“You’ll ace the trial, don’t worry” reassured Harry before making to leave, “I’m off, don’t stay too late!”

“Wait up, I’ll come with you” said Emily, tapping away at a few keys and gathering her files together.

As she stood up, Harry couldn’t help but admire her perfect form. Long legs and curves in all the right places, she really was gorgeous – he shook his head, rubbing his eyes and thinking of the wonderful woman who waited for him at home: Sophia was his perfect woman. 17 years they’d been married, every one of them blissfully happy.

They called the lift and, upon entering, Harry’s eyes were drawn to a small coin lying on the floor.

“It’s my lucky day” he laughed, stooping to pick it up. “Find a penny, pick it up, every day you’ll have good luc….OWWWW!!!!” Harry felt a sharp bold of electricity pass through his body and dropped the coin.

Emily grabbed his arm with a look of genuine concern, “What happened?”

“Must have been some kind of static” said Harry, embarrassed at his overreaction. He regained his composure offering “do you want a lift tonight? I keep thinking it’s crazy that you cycle all that way when you live just round the corner from me!”

“No, I’m all good thanks,” she replied, ”the exercise is good for me. Gotta stay in shape somehow”.

They said their farewells, and Harry made his way towards the jet-black Maserati in the corner of the car park. It was his pride and joy. He studied his reflection in the window – dark hair, a shade over six foot, athletic - he liked the way he looked.

Settling into the driver’s seat, he adjusted the seat and mirror – strange, he thought, they had been fine this morning.

Twenty minutes later, Harry pulled in to the driveway of his family home, the week of stress instantly washed from his mind as he saw his beautiful wife waiting on the doorstep with a beaming smile and remembered it was the weekend.

“How was your day, babe?” she said, giving him a hug and lingering kiss.

“Bearable” replied Harry, returning her affections with eagerness, then making his way through the front door into the cosy front room. “Better now I get to spend the weekend with you and the girls.”

Lying on the sofa watching TV was his 16-year-old daughter Clara. “Hey Dad” she said, eyes never leaving the screen. Like her mother, Clara was blonde with blue eyes, both standing at around five foot six. Clara had always been the apple of her father’s eye – successful in everything she did and popular at school, she had the world at her feet and Harry was hugely proud of her.

She was very clearly engrossed in the show she was watching, so he left her to it and headed through to the kitchen where his wife had just finished pouring them each a glass of wine.

“Poppy upstairs?” said Harry of his 13-year-old daughter.

“Yeah,” Sophia replied “the girls had a little ‘disagreement’ about what to watch tonight. You know Poppy, always wants to get her own way.” Harry nodded knowingly. Poppy was a touch under five foot with dazzling green eyes and mousy hair worn in a ponytail. Like her sister, she was very talented, but had a fiery streak and would never shy away from an argument.

They clinked glasses and he sat down, blissfully happy as he caught a whiff of beef stroganoff simmering away on the stove. He had it good, he thought.

Just then a wave of nausea and rapid series of shivers hit him, causing his glass to fall to the ground and shatter instantly.

“Oh god, are you alright Harry?” said Sophia looking shocked and rushing to fetch a dustpan and brush.

“Yes, yes, sorry babe. Just suddenly felt very light-headed – wow, I feel awful suddenly.”

Knocking back a few painkillers, he grimaced his way through dinner with the family, hearing all about the girls’ days. Clara had had rehearsals for the upcoming school play, while Poppy had been selected for the swimming team. They were great girls and he was lucky to have them.

Still feeling rough, Harry excused himself and made his way to the bottom of the stairs, slouching to avoid the customary thwack on the head the low ceiling would give him. Then he stopped, looked up and straightened his back. The ceiling was lower. Or perhaps . . . he was smaller.

Harry slipped into the king size bed, forgetting all about the tricks his tired mind had been playing on him. He was already excited about the weekend. He shut his eyes and went to sleep, looking forward to a return to normality. Little did he know; his life would never be normal again . . .

The next day was, unsurprisingly for April in England, cold and rainy. Harry awoke feeling revitalised, giving Sophia a kiss on the neck before making his way downstairs to prepare breakfast.

Clara and Poppy were already in the kitchen. “Feeling better Dad?” Poppy chimed.

“Yes thanks, just needed a good night’s sleep! Who feels like a Full English?” They both nodded enthusiastically and Harry set to work creating his speciality – bacon, eggs, mushrooms, baked beans and a hash brown for good measure.

The accompanying coffee was just coming to boil when Sophia joined them in the kitchen. She sat down, while Clara hopped up to help take the plates to the table.

“That’s weird” she said, as she approached her father, “have I grown?”

“What do you mean?” Harry replied, quizzically raising his eyebrows.

“Look at me – we’re pretty much eye to eye. You’re six foot so I must have shot up!” she beamed.

Sophia stood up and joined the two of them by the stove. “You’re right Clara” she acknowledged, “Harry, you’re only about an inch taller than her now. We must be feeding you too well Clar – nearly six foot!”

Clara turned toward Sophia looking puzzled “But Mum, you’re the same size too. We can’t both have grown that much. Dad, you can’t be getting smaller can you?”

Harry blushed, “Of course not darling, that sort of thing doesn’t happen until I’m really old. You’re right though – you have both shot up. Poppy, can you fetch the measuring tape, let’s see whether you’ve hit six foot yet?”

Poppy obliged and, Clara stepping on the end of the tape, Harry told her to stand straight. He brought the tape measure up to the top of her head. “Five foot six. Hmm, you haven’t grown after all,” he said.

“But Dad” said Poppy, with a glint in her eye and a mischievous grin forming “that means . . . you must be shrinking!”

Leaving Clara to look after Poppy, Sophia and Harry jumped into the car and set off to see the local doctor. Harry had, by now, began to panic. How had this happened? What was the cure? How small was he going to get?

They pulled into the surgery, and after a nervous half hour wait, Doctor Christie saw them.

Harry explained the morning’s events leading to their shocking discovery. If the wizened Doctor was surprised, he concealed it effectively and set to work performing various tests and taking Harry’s vitals – blood pressure, normal, height, five foot five – he’d already become smaller than his wife and eldest daughter. The process continued for the next twenty minutes, punctuated only by the Doctor’s wheezy intakes of breath and scribbles on his notepad.

Finally, he rolled his chair back and delivered his verdict:

“I’m afraid, Mr Cooper, you have an ailment called hypercontractyosis. It’s as you feared. Up until now, it’s not something we have record of ever seeing in a human subject, only really in a few films. Have you ever seen ‘The Incredible Shrinking Man’?”

Harry heart sunk – he really was shrinking. He was in shock.

“Is there a cure?” he stammered.

“As I said, there’s no record of a human ever having contracted the disease – we haven’t therefore begun our studies to remedy the condition” said the Doctor. “I’d like to undertake some further tests and we will of course keep you updated on our progress.”

They drove home in silence.

Harry was shrinking. There was no cure. He had no idea how small he would get or how quickly it would happen. The future right now was too terrible to imagine. He just hoped his wife and kids would look after him until a cure was found.

“Don’t worry darling, the girls and I will make sure you’re ok” said Sophia as if having read his mind.

“Thanks Soph” Harry said gratefully, as they went inside to break the news to their daughters.

The weekend passed slowly. On having their suspicions confirmed, Clara and Poppy were full of the same questions Harry had been asking himself:

“How small will you get, Dad?” “How quickly are you shrinking?” “Will we have to look after you?” the excitement was evident in their voices, rather than the concern he had expected. This was a unique situation and one they were clearly revelling in.

Sophia insisted on hourly check-ups so they could keep track of how quickly he was wasting away. Thankfully this seemed to be a reasonably slow process; nonetheless, by Sunday night Harry stood at only five foot one, a mere inch taller than 13-year-old Poppy.

“Will I still have to listen to you when I’m bigger than you, Dad?” asked Poppy innocently at dinner that night.

“Of course, darling. I’ll always be your father – and besides, you should always listen to your elders” he said, feeling a touch of dread about his daughter’s line of questioning.

We’ll see about that her eyes seemed to say, but she nodded sweetly and went back to playing with her food.

As he drove to work on Monday morning, Harry asked himself if continuing life as normal was the right thing to do. He worked in a ruthless environment with many people who might not think twice about using his situation to their advantage.

Arriving early so as not to draw attention to himself, he set to work and soon began to slip into a rhythm, putting his troubles to the back of his mind. He managed to stay at his desk until late morning when his longing for a coffee got the better of him. As he prepared a cappuccino over in the kitchen, Emily approached him cheerily.

“What’s happened to you then?” she said, jumping straight to the point.

“What do you mean?” he shot back, immediately on the offensive.

“Your height, silly. Everyone’s talking about it - you’re about a foot shorter. Do you normally wear massive platform shoes or something?”

He sighed. Seeing no option but to come clean, he told her all about his weekend.

“No way” she stood, open mouthed at his story, before regaining her composure. “So you’re going to be looking up to me all the time now? Here I was thinking it was just metaphorical.”

He laughed, calming down a little. “Luckily they’re looking for a cure at the moment. I’m sure it won’t be long.”

“Pfft” she scoffed “be honest with yourself Harry, it’s not likely they’ll find one it is? I mean, you said it yourself, this has never happened to a human before. Think how many people have cancer and there’s still no cure for that. You’re at the back of the queue.”

His heart dropped, she was right; he was going to have to get used to what his future held. She went on, lowering her voice as the conversation took on a more sinister tone.

“When you’re the size of a bug, I’ll come looking for you. I’d love to have a little man all to myself. You and I would have a lot of fun Harry.”

Thoughts of a giant Emily having her way with him were too much. Casual fantasies of an office fling with her were one thing, this was on a whole new level. He looked down and to his horror realised he was rock hard.

Mortified, he turned and shuffled his way awkwardly to the bathroom before locking himself in a cubicle and holding his head in his hands. Just as he began to calm down, without warning his hands started to shake and he felt the uncontrollable shivering once more. To his dismay, he could actually feel himself shrinking this time.

Harry realised he had to get out of the office before things got much worse. He needed to be safely at home with Sophia and the kids if the process was to start speeding up.

Bursting out of the bathroom, he swiftly grabbed his keys, wallet and phone from his desk and made for the exit. Turning to look over his shoulder as he fled, his eyes were drawn to Emily as she grinned and gave him a sultry wink.

Quite how Harry managed to get home was anyone’s guess. He now seriously struggled to reach the peddles of his car, and thought he couldn’t be taller than four and a half foot at most.

The empty house provided some comfort, as he poured himself a Scotch on the rocks, and settled into his favourite armchair which now dwarfed him. Switching on the TV, Harry took a swig of the golden nectar and sent a text to Sophia letting her know he was home.

As is so often the reaction to daytime TV, he soon slipped into a deep sleep…

He was awoken by Sophia’s early return from work.

“Hello my little man, thought I’d come and keep you company – it’s so rare you’re home early. Gosh it’s sped up again hasn’t it?”

He resented the mothering tone she had developed but kissed her with vigour, “I’m so pleased to see you babe”.

“Why don’t you show me how pleased you are?” she whispered. Then she turned, extended her hand, and led him up to the bedroom.

Once upstairs, Sophia wasted no time at all, practically ripping Harry’s clothes off and starting to work systematically at his penis with both hand and mouth. The pleasure was indescribable. Sophia was now much larger than Harry and her cavernous mouth ravenously attended to his rock-hard cock.

Just as he was about to come, she withdrew and lay back on the bed, Harry seizing the initiative and jumping on top of her gorgeous, naked body. He kissed her tenderly, and gently slipped himself inside her, beginning to pump with authority.

He was again approaching climax when she turned him over and assumed a position on top of him, towering over his meagre frame. Sophia pinned him to the bed and began rapidly rotating her hips.

“Could you…?”

“Shhhh” she held a hand over his mouth as her warm vagina enveloped him, pulling him in still deeper.

Harry was completely overpowered, and pain was beginning to mingle with the undoubted pleasure.

“Yes baby” she moaned, quickening the pace.

Barely registering Harry’s orgasm, she pressed on in search of satisfaction. As pain took over completely, Sophia began to cum uncontrollably, the combination of her hips circling and body bucking inciting convulsions through her core and reverberating through Harry.

Harry had already become a shell of the man he once was; he may as well have been a bystander watching the performance. He had been completely and utterly dominated by this woman who used to look up to him. If this how she acted towards him at a little over four foot, imagine how she would treat him when he was but a few inches.

Wordlessly, Harry made his way to the bathroom to clean himself up whilst Sophia lay on the bed panting, a wide smile lighting up her face.

Evening arrived, the girls got back from school, and life returned to a normal pace in the Cooper residence. Or as normal as could be. Feeling a need to stretch his legs, Harry decided to head for a stroll in the local park, perhaps picking up a few snacks on the way home.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sophia appeared suddenly in front of him, blocking the door. Her looming presence caught him off guard and he recoiled a little.

He told her his plan.

“That’s not going to happen, Harry” she retorted, shaking her head. “Look at what happened at work today. It’s definitely not a good idea for you to wander around alone, least of all at night!”

What is going on, he thought to himself. Was he really being barred from leaving his own home?

She went on, “I think it’s time we start looking after you properly, as a family. Clara, can you come here please?”

Their daughter joined them at the door.

“Clara, you’re going to take tomorrow off school to look after your father. He’s not safe at home alone and needs to learn to rely on bigger people for help.”

Clara’s eyes lit up with excitement. “We’re going to have the best day EVER!” she said, failing spectacularly to conceal her glee.

The door slammed shut behind Sophia, and Harry turned to face his 16-year-old daughter, who was now a full two foot taller than him. Since the talk with her mother the previous evening, Clara had had a smile permanently plastered on her face, and now she was left alone to look after her father for a whole day.

“So what do you fancy doing today kiddo? How about pizza for lunch, a few movies, some…”

“Oh no” she interjected, “you heard Mum – I’m in charge today. You have to listen to people who are bigger than you, it’s for your own good.”

“Darling, it’s going to be a fun day. Just you and me, we’ll get to…”

“Do you need me to teach you a lesson, already???” she frowned.

“What are you on about? I’m just trying…”

“I really didn’t think I’d have to punish you so soon Dad” she said, pushing him to the floor and taking a seat on the sofa above him.

Harry looked up at his daughter in disbelief. What had this change in power balance done to her? She was clearly revelling in the control she had over her diminutive father. She was wearing a tight crop top and short skirt which accentuated her long, toned legs. He couldn’t help but admit she was strikingly attractive, a thought he swiftly put to the back of his mind as he remembered she was his own flesh and blood.

Turning, she extended the long legs and lowered her feet to his level. “You’re going to lick my feet.”

He tried to get up, but she aggressively pushed him down with her feet, forcing him back down to the ground. Further attempts at resistance proved futile as he was met with the same force and fell to the floor repeatedly. Finally he decided obedience was the best course of action – his daughter was going to get a lot, lot bigger from his perspective – she might remember his good behaviour. Defeated, he extended his tongue and lapped at his daughter’s foot.

She giggled, “It tickles. That’s good Dad, keep going.” He continued to lick for a short while longer, disgusted by the musty dried sweat on his daughter’s foot, before he backed off a little.

“Now that you’ve given me a ‘punishment’, can you please remember I’m your father and stop treating me with such distain, young lady?” he said, with a wave of defiance.

“A punishment?” she looked down, surprised. “Oh, that’s not a punishment, that was a little treat for you – you got to lick my gorgeous soles you lucky guy. You’re coming with me,” she said, heading upstairs towards her bedroom, dragging Harry behind her.

Clara’s bedroom was large, with posters of her favourite pop stars adorning the walls. They approached the bed in the corner of the room and sat down.

“It’s time to show you how small you really are,” she said looking down at him in a sinister way. He was, by now, incredibly small – around three foot four he estimated, the height of a four-year-old. Harry dreaded finding out just how she was going to emphasise that point to him.

Without another word, she got up and led him to the opposite corner of the room. On the floor ahead of them was a wicker basket. Harry’s stomach dropped as he recognised this as the laundry basket each member of the family had in their room.

“Get in” she ordered, eyes cold and deadly serious.

“What? Surely you don’t mean…”

“I said, get in” she reaffirmed.

Remembering the last time he defied her, Harry stopped his questioning and sullenly crouched down, removing the lid. The waft of dirty laundry rose to meet his nostrils and he took in the sight of bras, visibly soiled underwear and gym kit crammed into the tight space. He knelt in the pile of clothing before curling up and assuming foetal position. She smiled down on him, visibly satisfied that he was now obeying without question, and replaced the lid.

He felt the top of the basket compress as Clara sat down on top, trapping him inside. The stark realisation hit him that he was the property of his daughter now; hers to do with as she pleased. This was Clara, his beloved little girl – the one he had hoped would take care for him. He might have expected this of Poppy but certainly not her.

Feeling a wetness on his cheek, Harry realised the gym kit was still damp from her most recent workout. The heat and smell soon became too much for the shrunken man as he slipped into a state of unconsciousness.

After collecting Poppy from school, Sophia returned that evening, unsure exactly what scene would await her.

“Where’s your father?” she said quickly to Clara, a shot of panic in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, he’s here,” Clara responded triumphantly as she pointed to her feet. There, on his knees, head between his hands, was Harry. Clara’s legs balanced daintily on his back as she watched TV – the perfect foot stool.

“It isn’t fair,” shouted Poppy, threatening a tantrum. “How come Clar gets to look after daddy and I don’t?”

“Calm down Poppy” said her mother “it’s your turn tomorrow.” Harry gulped. He had become the family pet.

There followed a restless night for Harry as he became more and more aware of his rapidly diminishing height. Haunted by nightmares of his giant, uncompromising family, he began to wonder if he wouldn’t be better off on his own – out in the world to fend for himself. How could he be treated so horrifically by those he thought loved him? By now he had shrunk to less than half his original height, and they had begun to treat him like an object to do with as they pleased.

A volley of birdsong signalled the arrival of a new day and sunshine broke through the curtains warming Harry’s face. He realised he’d barely said a word to Sophia since she’d had her way with him a few days ago; was he being unreasonable? Sure, it was very rough sex, but perhaps his wife simply hadn’t realised she had to be gentler with his reduced form? Sophia surely had to be his biggest ally; if he was to get through this, he had to offer an olive branch, get her back on side.

Rolling over, he parted the hair that fell softly on her shoulders, and planted a kiss on the nape of her neck. She let out a soft hum and turned to face him, “I’ve been thinking,” she said earnestly, the same subject clearly on her mind. “How Clara treated you yesterday was terrible – I’ll be having words with her. Perhaps I’m being a bit over the top, but I just wanted to make sure we kept a watchful eye over you at all times. If you got into the wrong hands, something terrible might happen!” It wasn’t as if anything good had come of being in the ‘right’ hands so far, but he appreciated Sophia’s thoughtfulness nonetheless.

“Thanks babe – I may be getting smaller, but I’m still the same man I always was. I really think it’s best you don’t leave me with Poppy today, you know how she can be – I’m concerned she might enjoy being bigger than me just a little too much.”

Sophia sighed, “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” she said reassuringly, “she’s your youngest, she loves you. Besides, I’ve got an important presentation to make at work today. It’s just one day, I’m sure you can handle a 13-year-old girl.”

Now that she put it like that, why was he worrying so much? He now had the full support again of his wife – Poppy was bound to play by the rules.

“What do you fancy doing first then daddy?” Poppy said, once Sophia and Clara had left for the day.

“How about a game?” responded her father, pleased that he was being allowed to make the suggestions this time.

“Great idea! Let’s play Truth or Dare,” she said heading over to the sofa with him, “you go first.”

A bit of a weird game to play with his daughter, but she seemed to be in a good mood and he wanted to keep it that way. “Truth” he said. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let her ‘dare’ him at his size!

Poppy considered for a moment, “Are you looking forward to being able to fit in the palm of my hand?”

No, he absolutely wasn’t. “Don’t be silly darling, I’m not going to get that small. Only a matter of time until they find a cure.”

“Ok, but say you were the size of a bug. How would you feel? Me towering over you like a giant.”

He perished the thought. “That’s two ‘truths’ darling. Let’s play properly. Your turn.”

“Dare”, she said without hesitation.

“Okay, I dare you to do all the washing up from breakfast.” He was beginning to enjoy this.

“That’s boring daddy. This is supposed to be a game. Give me something fun to do or I’ll make up my own dare.”

“Right, your dare is to do twenty star jumps,” Harry offered.

“This isn’t a work out! Alright then, I’ll make up my own dare. I dare me to take you on in a wrestling match.”

What? This would be ridiculous. He stood no chance at his current height.

Immediately she jumped on him. He tried to resist, but she wrestled him to the ground with worrying ease. Pinning his arms to the floor, she straddled him and compressed his chest with her thighs, forcing the air from his lungs. It shocked Harry that he had been so easily immobilised by a girl who had so recently become a teenager. Tapping her leg, he conceded defeat and she released the pressure.

“That was so easy. You’re such a weak little man,” she giggled, “your turn.”

“Truth” he said again, still shaken by her display of power.

“You can’t keep doing truths – time for a dare I think.” Before he could protest, she continued, “I need a bath after all that wrestling – I dare you to join me.” This was a preposterous suggestion and he could see she knew it – Poppy was testing how far he would go. As if reading his mind, she added “if you don’t come willingly, I’m going to make you. We’ve both just seen how much stronger I am that you. I can either play nice or nasty, it’s up to you.”

Having decided he certainly didn’t want Poppy playing nasty with him, Harry stood before the bubbly bath. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned and was met by a jaw dropping sight – Poppy’s mountainous unclothed form stretched high above him. Despite her age, she was fully developed, and her athletic physique held his gaze for perhaps a little too long. Though this was his daughter, she looked like an amazon goddess to him.

“Like what you see do you? Go on, hop in while it’s still hot!” she grinned, snapping him out of his trance. He shuffled, embarrassed.

Poppy rolled her eyes, “Relax daddy, I’ve seen it all before. Go on, take your clothes off.”

He did as he was told, and as quickly as possible to preserve his modesty, jumped into the bath to hide beneath the bubbles. Instantly, he realised the bath was way too deep for a man of his size. Poppy leapt in after him raising the level of the water still further, and Harry found himself fully submerged being swept around like a ragdoll. Finally breaking the surface, he gasped for air, bubbles stinging his eyes and Poppy’s giggles ringing in his ears.

“Bath time a bit too much for you now daddy?” she forced out, bent over double at the hilarity of the situation.

Clinging to the edge of the bath, he managed to haul himself out and ended up in a soaking wet heap on the floor. Through soap sodden eyes he looked up to see Poppy in tears of laughter, the ridiculous sight of her father scrabbling around on the floor too much to take.

“There’s a towel on the floor in the bedroom,” she offered, and he ran out of the door – humiliated.

A short while later, Poppy joined Harry in her bedroom. Having wrapped himself in the warm towel, he had hastily re-clothed and waited for her on the bed.

“Does my little man want to have a nap after his big workout in the bath?” she said, walking over to him.

He had to admit that after the wrestling match and his battles with the bath, he was a little tired. There were also far worse things he could be doing, so he nodded and slipped off the bed heading for his own bedroom.

Poppy leapt in front of the door. “Why don’t you stay here with me?” she said, innocently, “my bed’s really comfy.”

Sensing the rhetorical nature of the question, Harry made his way back to her bed. He slipped under the covers and was quickly joined by Poppy, now dressed only in her bra and pink laced underwear. Harry began to think she may be putting on a show for him, but it wasn’t long before they drifted off to sleep.

Harry was awoken by the now forebodingly familiar shivering. As he felt his body dwindle, he looked to his left and saw his daughter grow before his eyes. He had slipped down the bed and, with her back turned towards him, Poppy’s ass now took on truly epic proportions. Suddenly and without warning she turned over, straight onto the onlooking Harry. He found himself pinned under Poppy’s ass, struggling to breathe. His daughter was now, completely unbeknown to her, sitting on his face. This was wrong on so many levels. Pushing with all his might, he managed to free himself from under her, waking her from her slumber.

“Hey, what are you doing?” she croaked drowsily. He brought her up to speed.

“Woah, so you almost choked to death under my ass?” she sounded thrilled by the development.

“Well not quite, but you’ve got to be careful with me. I’ve got smaller again.”

“God, you have,” she said, sitting up “poor itty bitty daddy. You look under two foot now.”

Harry’s world shook as the loud stomping got closer. A huge shadow plunged his world into darkness and he lifted his eyes to be met by the most gigantic thing he’d ever seen. She looked 300-foot-tall to him and wore a smirk on her billboard sized face. He fell to his knees. That she could even see him was a blessing, but the cold hard reality was that she could end his pathetic existence with ease.

He began to run, eliciting a maniacal laugh from the goddess above.

“You’re never going to get away from me sweetheart, I own you now.”

He knew it was true, but lifted his pace anyway. In no time at all, the familiar shadow shrouded him again and her bare foot stamped down mercilessly, blocking his path. He fell back heavily and looked up to see the giant foot descending on him, before everything went black and it was all over.

In a cold sweat, Harry awoke suddenly and turned to face Sophia. His mouth was dry and he was panting. The nightmares had become increasingly frequent in the last week or so, and were even more terrifying now they had begun to mimic his reality.

Measuring barely 6 inches tall now, adjustments had had to be made to ensure his continued survival in the presence of his titanic family. He now slept in Poppy’s tupperware lunchbox, equipped with cotton wool buds to act as makeshift bedding. He was placed on the side table so his colossal wife would not crush him in her sleep.

Not that his survival was mutually beneficial. His daughters in particular had made his life a misery ever since they had begun to realise the power they held over their diminutive father. They now saw him less as a human being and more as a pet who would do anything they asked or face the consequences. The worst of it – foot massages, nail painting and general servitude – had been done behind Sophia’s back, with a threat of further punishment should he dare tell her. He was between a rock and a hard place and he knew it.

He sighed, and tried to fall back to sleep.

Harry tucked into his breakfast; a collection of the family’s leftovers that had been spooned onto a plate on the floor. The shame of this daily ritual has long since subsided as he realised that building up strength was of paramount importance. Like a dog, he greedily ate up as if it was his last meal. He felt lost in the world – the vitriol he had been shown by his wife and kids would surely be amplified if he were to break free and be found by a non-family member. He simply didn’t know what to do.

After he had eaten all he could, Harry began to hear hushed voices in the living room next door. Curious, he tiptoed around the corner and saw his daughters sitting on the sofa deep in discussion. Undetected due to his size, he gingerly crept closer to hear what was being said.

The speed of his decline had of course come as a shock, but Harry was painfully aware of the lack of fight he had shown over the last week. Used to commanding respect in his day to day life, he had allowed two teenagers that he thought loved him, establish a stranglehold over his life. Perhaps if he’d shown more defiance and a little less fear, things would be different? Maybe deep down there was a reason he’d given in so easily. Was he submissive? Was there part of him that enjoyed this?

Having completely zoned out and heard barely heard a word, he was shaken back to reality by the sight of his daughters, now standing menacingly above him with hands on hips.

“Just the guy we wanted to see. We’ve been thinking daddy,” Clara said, with a grin plastered on her face.

“We don’t think you’ve been treating us with the proper respect. The thing is, you’re just a tiny bug now – we are so much bigger than you that you rely on us to live. And since we decide if you live or die . . .”

“You should start worshipping us as Gods,” Poppy said, gleefully finishing Clara’s sentence.

He couldn’t believe it. It was one thing respecting their size and doing as asked, but this would mean to abandon his humanity entirely. The giants who stood above him were more powerful than any God he could possibly imagine, but they were his own flesh and blood, his daughters. It was a preposterous idea.

“Clara, does he look like he’s thinking about disobeying us?”

“Yes it does Popps. Guess we’ll have to do something about that,” said Clara, raising her enormous foot above his head. She lowered it and her ginormous toe began to press down on his head. Harry felt the pressure build and build. It was getting too much to bear.

“You feel like a grape down there, I wonder when you’re going to pop” she threatened.

“Wait!” Harry managed. He was now on his knees.

“Aww, is he praying?” Poppy laughed.

“It looks like it. Daddy, have you decided what your religion is now?”

Silence filled the room as they eagerly awaited his answer.

After what seemed like an age, Harry gave it. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” Poppy demanded.

“Yes . . . God.”

Poppy

I can’t sleep. Lying back in my bed, I smile as his words reverberate in my mind; “Yes, God” – he had accepted me as his one true God. The power feels incredible.

I’ve had this deep-seated lust for power for as long as I can remember. When I was younger, I would spend most of my days in the garden looking for insects to play with. Upon finding a nest of them, I loved to pretend it was an entire city whose people were awestruck by the giant that now dominated their skyline. The tiny little bugs had no chance as I crushed the life out of them. I liked to imagine what it must be like for them. Though I was just a little girl, I towered over them, holding their tiny lives in the palm of my hand. To them I was an unstoppable giantess – to all intents and purposes I was their God.

Most people grow out of their childish habits, but mine only became more intoxicating. At school, I was one of the popular kids; confident, good looking and ruthlessly manipulative. I would take great pleasure in demeaning my teachers. They were at least twice my age, but I had them on string. Once, Mr Talbot had tried to escalate the situation and call for my expulsion – I had practically put the cuffs on him myself when I recalled the propositions, the inappropriate touching, the private notes. The tears had certainly helped. Everybody believes an innocent little girl.

I wasn’t tall though, so the control and manipulation was always limited. I couldn’t physically dominate anyone, and that frustrated me. When I realised daddy was shrinking, I was unbelievably excited. Soon he’d be looking up to me, his own daughter. I’d be the big one. I’d be the one in charge.

And now I am.

Playing with the little bugs when I was younger was a lot of fun, but I had no way of communicating with them. I could imagine how they saw me, imagine the fear I instilled in them. To actually hear someone declare me as their one true God is almost too much to take. Such is my power that they’re willing to deify me and do everything I tell them to do.

It’s easy to forget Clara’s involvement in this. I can clearly see that she doesn’t feel quite the same as me but, despite the fact she is older than me, she’s malleable and I can shape her just the way I want. I know that ultimately there is only room for one God in our father’s life, but in time she’ll get bored and move on, that’s just the way Clara is. In the short term, her involvement will help keep him in check, and keep mummy off my back.

A warm tingling sensation fills my insides as I drift off to sleep, imagining him on his knees in prayer to me.

Harry knew he had to get out of here. A little over a week into his shrunken life and his daughters were already founding a religion based around themselves. Surely his chances outside of these four walls had to be better than living here for even a day longer.

Where could he go though? Perhaps the surgery? They had diagnosed his condition after all. Perhaps there was a cure, and this whole nightmare could be over. But how can he get there? It was at least 5 miles away, and he sure as hell wasn’t driving a car at his size. He’d have to think a little closer to home. He’d moved to this neighbourhood just over a year ago, and was reasonably well acquainted with a few neighbouring families – was ‘acquainted’ enough though when he would be appealing to them at his current size?

He considered his options; two doors down lived the Hampton family who had always struck him as friendly – John, Hailey and their daughter Sarah, who was, he guessed, early twenties. Then there were Mike and Laura Turner, recently married with no kids. They’d come around for dinner a few times and he had certainly taken a shine to Laura who was just his type. He was closest to the American family who lived next door -  Larry, Meghan with their three kids, Nicole, Timmy and Marissa. The children were a little bratty though, which struck him as a risk given his height, or lack thereof. Emily lived very nearby of course, but he instantly ruled her out upon recollecting her last words to him – “I’d love to have a little man all to myself. You and I would have a lot of fun Harry” – now that would be out of the frying pan and into the fire, he thought, grimacing.

Hearing the clock ticking, Harry knew that time was very much against him. Who was to say how small he would get? He was under 6 inches now and only getting smaller – leave it much longer and he’d have real issues getting anyone’s attention. What an awful way to go that would be; crushed unknowingly under foot.

Taking a deep breath, Harry resolved to make a break for it the next day. Though he was still undecided about just where he would go, there had to be someone out there who would appreciate the gravity of his situation and get him the help he needed. He just hoped he could get through whatever twisted games his family would undoubtedly have planned for him in the morning, and find a quiet moment to slip away undetected. He wasn’t going to accept this new way of life, this new religion that had been foisted on him by his megalomaniacal daughters. His story was going to have a happy ending, he just knew it.