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(Author's note: This is a draft story I wrote for Hipher on furaffinity (Crash Kyanite#0074 on Discord), who seemed happy with the story until it came to paying the invoice for it, at which point they erred and stalled until finally disappearing. As a draft, it'll have more typos and grammatical issues than my normal stories, but I hope some folk might still get some enjoyment out of reading it.)

In past eras, Chris’ ailment would have been considered a boon from the gods, putting him on a pedestal with Greek and Nordic heroes of old. His body was closely attuned to his mental state and reacted to the needs placed upon it. In an era with dangerous beasts to fight and battlefields to stride, such men would swell in size in proportion to the praise they received, towering head and shoulders over their peers and becoming revered legends. However, there was a darker side to this boon. Chris didn’t just react to praise, he also reacted to criticism, with his body capable of shrinking when he was insulted.

Given his physically responsive state, Chris had sought to keep to himself and therefore keep himself safe. He avoided the stern gaze of his mother by never asking for anything, leaving him with tatty clothes and an unkempt appearance. He avoided the teasing of his older sister by giving her his toys whenever she asked. He avoided the attention of the teacher by always taking the seat furthest from her desk, and hiding behind his backpack whenever she asked a question of the class. His grades were terrible, but at least she didn’t make him demonstrate his mistakes in front of everyone on the blackboard. 

Most importantly of all, he avoided the attention of ‘the clique,’ a group of popular girls who ruled the social pecking order. As long as he stayed quiet and never tried to make friends, he could stay beneath their notice. 

The quiet routine had worked well. He’d grown at the same rate as his peers, neither towering above them nor looking up at them, and his classmates seemed to have forgotten he existed. He was present in the same way a potted plant was present. Background fauna.

It all went wrong once puberty rushed through the class like a tidal wave. The girls started developing physically, and Chris’ isolated stance started to weigh heavily on him. Staying away from girls was no longer something he liked, but something he resented. He’d snatch peeks at them when they entered the classroom, with their short skirts bouncing up their thighs. He’d glance at their shoulders as they leaned back on their chairs, catching the bump of their bra straps under their coloured crop tops. Sometimes he could identify the colour of their bra if the sun was strong enough and their blouse was white enough. These moments weren’t much, but they were enough for him to think about as he jerked off in the school bathroom. But over time, the bra straps and thigh glimpses weren’t enough. Chris wanted to see more. 

Addison, a girl whose long blonde hair and sharp features had made her an instant hit in the clique, had chosen that day to wear an especially low-cut black crop top that showed off the cleavage she was happy to flaunt, knowing how much it drove the boys wild. The top had already gotten her in trouble with the prim-faced teacher, who didn’t like to be upstaged by her female students while wearing her usual one-size-too-small white blouse and pencil skirt, so Addison had been sent to the back of the class. Or rather the back of the class for normal kids, which was the row in front of Chris’ lonely desk.

Being so close, Chris could smell her sweet-scented perfume, and the teacher’s voice drifted into background noise as his gaze settled on Addison’s bare shoulders a mere arm’s reach away. 

The morning’s class ended and the teacher stepped out for her break while the students burst into excited chatter. The usual hubbub of teasing, taunts, and gossip filled the room, a hubbub that passed Chris by. 

Addison pulled out a glossy girl’s magazine from her bag on the floor, then put her feet up on her desk and leaned back as she flipped through it. Peeking over her shoulder, Chris saw page after page of stylishly dressed young girls posing and flaunting their looks next to articles about how to get a boy to like you, or the funny anecdotes about breaking up with loser boyfriends.

Chris didn’t even notice he was leaning closer until he looked down and realised he could see down Addison’s top from this angle. He blushed and looked away. He closed his eyes and his mind replayed images of Addison’s light tanned skin fading into the shadow of her top. He tried to resist, but his will was weak. He leaned forward another inch where a couple of loose blonde strands brushed his cheek, and he looked down at the dark triangle separating the twin bulges of her breasts, snugly pressed together by her black bra. He noticed how her tan got lighter further down her breasts, areas of skin that she normally kept hidden from the sun that he could gaze upon in wonder.

He felt a tightness in his pants as his hardening dick rubbed up against the edge of his desk, followed by a squeak of metal on floorboards as both Chris and the desk slid forward. His mouth opened in panic as he toppled, with his lips coming down onto the sinew between Addison’s shoulder and neck in a sloppy yet accidental kiss.

Addison squealed and leapt to her feet, with Chris’ head coming down onto her still-warm seat. She jumped between her feet and flapped her arms, screaming “EWWWWWW! That creep tried to kiss me!” 

This immediately caught the attention of everyone in the class as they turned in unison to point and stare at Chris. The clique were the first to vocally respond, squealing “CREEP!” in unison with Addison, their shrill voices ascending into a screeching chorus. 

Chris’ mumbled apologies were lost in the cries, and before he could return to his feet Addison had rolled up her magazine and was hitting him on the head with it.

The teacher, Ms Madison, burst into the classroom with only half her eyeliner reapplied, giving her sharp glare through her black-rimmed glasses an uneven quality. “What’s going on here?” she yelled. 

Meghan, a haughty brunette who had been the first to attain a perfect hourglass physique among her peers, pointed at Chris. “That little creep molested Addison!” A chorus of feminine voices joined in agreeing with this accusation.

Ms Madison crossed her arms under her ample bust as she looked over at Chris as he struggled to get to his feet while keeping his gaze on his feet. “I won’t tolerate such despicable behaviour! Get here… NOW!” 

The class jeered as Chris trudged past them to the teacher, with a few girls throwing erasers and pencil sharpeners that bounced off him. The slump of his shoulders and bow of his head masked the couple of inches he dropped in height. 

Ms Madison perched her juicy ass on the edge of her desk, then slapped the top of her thighs. “Assume the position!”

“B-but…” muttered Chris.

“Don’t you DARE talk back to me young man!” interrupted the teacher. 

Chris sighed as he tilted forward and rested his chest on his teacher’s knees. He tried to ignore the smooth slide of her stockings on his shirt.

Ms Madison pointed at Addison and snapped her fingers. “Give me that…” Addison handed over the rolled up magazine, which Ms Madison raised up then smacked onto Chris’ rear with a sharp crack. 

Chris winced more out of embarrassment than pain, causing the students to cheer and begin a count as he was punished. 

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five!” 

His buttocks was hit repeatedly with the magazine, with each hit nudging him harder against the teacher’s shapely thighs. He tried to hold his butt back in the air, but eventually the bulge in his crotch rubbed up against the inner knee of Ms Madison. Fortunately she was enjoying the punishment too much to notice. 

Eventually the ruckus reached an extent the teacher had to put an end to it. The girls were enjoying all this a little too much. She called for quiet before instructing Chris to stand up. With the bulge in his crotch, Chris did not want to stand up, he tried to back away from the teacher in a bowed stance.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson… um, what was your name again?” asked Ms Madison. 


“Well, Chris, I hope you see that I don’t tolerate disrespectful behaviour towards our promising young women, even from new students.”

“I’ve been in your class for two years…” whispered Chris. 

“Oh? Err… you should have known better then! Go back to your desk and think on your disgraceful behaviour!”

“Excuse me!” Addison raised her hand. “I don’t feel comfortable with him behind me, can he stay up front?”

“A good suggestion! Chris, you’ll stand in the front corner of the class!” 

Chris shuffled towards the corner, holding himself bent over as he silently prayed for his erection to pass. 

“Stand up straight!” snapped Ms Madison. 

Chris closed his eyes, unable to watch the mix of disgust and glee that spread among his classmates as he stood upright and they saw the bulge. 

“EWWWWWW! He liked the punishment!” squealed the girls.

“Turn around!” ordered Ms Madison. “You’ll face the wall the rest of class.”

This suited Chris as he didn’t need to look at anyone. He spent the rest of the afternoon trying to become one with the corner, to return to the status of a potted plant he’d had before, but throughout the day he had small rolled up balls of paper thrown at him, and not only by the clique.

He went home mentally and physically exhausted, with his clothes hanging loose off his frame. It’d been rough, but he’d endured, and tomorrow would be a new day. They’d find a new target to bully. It’d go back to how it was before. 

It didn’t.

The next day Chris turned up to find his desk covered with multicoloured graffiti written with lipstick, calling him a loser, a creep, a misogynist, and a pervert among many other insults. The clique didn’t even try to hide their involvement, they turned around on their seats and smugly smiled at Chris as he read the insults, with each of them sporting a different colour lipstick that matched the graffiti, from fushia pink to black cherry.

Chris’ passive response only seemed to embolden the girls. They’d huddle together during class breaks, shooting glances his way, before coming up with a vocal taunt some of the other classmates would subsequently join in with.

Chris attempted to melt into his desk, to keep himself as small a presence as possible, and not just emotionally. After a couple of days, the girls began to notice his reduced stature. His tatty clothes hung loose on his frame and he had to roll up his shirt sleeves and pant legs. Realising he was a docile target, the clique escalated to physical bullying. Starting with erasers, then hair clips and tampons, they used him as target practice whenever the teacher’s back was turned. When the teacher noticed the noise of a pen pinging off Chris’ head and clattering to the floor, she blamed him for disrupting the class and had him stand in the corner. 

Seeing that Chris didn’t react to the throws, the girls grew bolder and approached his desk at lunch. They laughed at his ill-kempt hair, tugging on it and twirling it around their fingers. They poked at the moth holes in his shirt, digging their nails into his flesh. Still he did nothing. 

As the days went by, Chris’ reduced height became undeniable even for those who paid him little attention. The teacher finally took notice of this, and had his desk moved to the front of the class. Chris initially hoped this would reduce the bullying, but it was only to make him a more visible target for the girls sat behind him, who spent the class kicking his chair. Ms Madison seemed to enjoy calling on him for every question, smirking as he struggled to answer even the most basic questions, and berating him for not studying enough. This gave the clique the idea of stealing his schoolbooks, which they hid under the fashion magazines they brought in. Any attempt by Chris to retrieve his books would result in a squeal that he was attempting to molest them, so he made do without books.

As word spread around the school of a student capable of growing smaller, Chris’ bullying expanded from the classroom to the entire school. He couldn’t walk down a corridor without girls he didn’t even know calling out to him, saying he was a loser and pushing him against the lockers or trying to trip him up. 

As he grew smaller still, the girls stopped trying to push Chris away and instead pull him closer. At his reduced height, barely reaching the underside of their busts, he was no longer seen as a molester but as a pet. They pulled him into the girls’ bathroom during lunch, ignoring his subdued cries to stop, where they braided his hair and tested their makeup on him. His eyes were poked as they applied eyeliner, his cheeks were prodded as they applied blush, and his lips were pinched as they applied various shades of lipstick. 

Afterwards, they ordered him not to remove any of it, and that they’d punish him if he returned to school the next day with even a single smudge. Chris tried his best to keep his head down and avoid the jeering catcalls of those he passed on the walk home, but his older sister refused to keep her hands off him as she reveled in docile feminised state. She insisted he sit with the dolls she no longer played with in a mock tea party. She took photos of him pretending to serve empty teacups, then cackled with laughter as she uploaded the images to social media for both her friends and their extended family to mock. 

The next day Chris was punished by the clique by serving as Meghan’s footstool during class. The teacher raised an eyebrow when she saw him on all fours, but didn’t object as she went about her lesson plan as usual. 

Having found how useful their pet could be, the clique quickly found new uses for him. First Meghan, and then all the other clique members, demanded he carry their purses between classes.  At his reduced height, barely reaching the girl’s waists, he could barely be seen behind the half dozen pink and purple purses.

Every day seemed to find some new humiliation for Chris. No matter how low he thought he’d become, both physically and emotionally, the clique always found a way to diminish him further. He dreaded waking up in the mornings, preferring to stay hidden under the blankets, but his mother would snatch away the blankets and literally lift him from the bed by his ankles. He was barely bigger than a toddler, and yet his mother was unconcerned. The only help she offered was to bring out a box of his old baby clothes.

When Chris felt like he was near breaking point, he summoned his strength to make one last effort to save himself, and went to find Ms Madison after class. While he could just reach the staff room handle, he was too small to turn it and had to wait for another teacher to exit before he could enter. He walked between desks stacked high with paperwork with his head down, afraid to meet the eye of any adult, so struggled to tell which pencil skirt and stocking legs were Ms Madison. He eventually recognised her by the wedge heels. 

He called out to her, and she spun around on her swivel chair to face him. With his head the same height as her seat, he caught a glimpse up her skirt at her black lace panties as she crossed her legs, with her heel just barely skimming his forehead. She cleared her throat, seemingly having noticed his peek up her skirt and calling his attention to her stern expression. She nudged her glasses up her nose as she looked down at him, then demanded to know why he was bothering her.

Chris was slow to start at first, hesitating on every word, but once he started sharing his feelings on the clique’s bullying it all came out in a rush. Ms Madison didn’t stop him, she didn’t interrupt, she listened. Chris was initially overjoyed, an adult was finally taking his concerns seriously, but as he went on he realised her reactions seemed… unusual. Her cheeks turned a rosier hue and she squirmed in her seat, squeezing her thighs together and running her hand up and down the length of her short pencil skirt.

He continued narrating the various ways he’d been bullied, growing increasingly uncomfortable by Ms Madison’s attention, but scared to stop. When he eventually relayed it all, Ms Madison smiled and reached down towards him to stroke his cheek.

“It’s alright Chris. I’ve been doing… research on your condition. This… shrinking. Did you know if you grow small enough, you could be compressed flat on a page? Some scholars think those ancient tableaus of heroic acts are actually the shrunken visages of men like you. Isn’t that amazing?”

Chris was less amazed than he was terrified. 

“If you were just a little smaller, I was thinking you could fit right in my textbook! Wouldn’t that be something?” Ms Madison’s eyes glittered with glee as she regaled a fantasy she seemingly had thought long about. “I could turn you into the perfect student! You’d always be present in that textbook, and over time you’d memorise every word…”

Chris didn’t hear the rest of Ms Madison’s plan as he turned tail and ran. 

The next day, the clique were especially boisterous before class as Meghan unveiled the latest issue of Teen Vogue with her as the star model. The other girls squealed with glee as Meghan mirrored her photoshoot pose, twisting to the side to show off her perfect figure in profile, and blowing a kiss at the camera. She only lacked the convenient gust that had her hair floating behind her, but that was rectified as Ms Madison swung open the door and walked in. It took her a few minutes to quiet down the excited girls, and they kept talking throughout the morning lesson. 

Chris was relieved that the attention on Meghan’s rise to stardom had left him forgotten. When lunch rolled around he decided not to risk drawing attention by moving, and instead remained perched on his fluffy pink cushion at the front of class, something Ms Madison had provided when he became too short to sit normally.

After Ms Madison had left, the clique huddled around Meghan’s desk as she slowly flipped through each page she featured in the magazine, showing off the variety of preppy outfits she owned. 

Chris overheard Addison querying Meghan’s pose on one page, with her holding up her open palms to the camera and kissing the empty air. While the question sounded innocent, the underlying tone implied mockery. This was how the pecking order in the clique was decided, through subtle criticisms, and Addison was challenging Meghan’s authority. 

“Oh? That?” Meghan forced a smile and flicked her hair over her shoulder as she sought to regain the upper hand. “They said it was to promote a new digital pet app, but the sponsorship fell through. It was a shitty app anyway…”

Addison raised a scornful eyebrow as she felt victory was near. “So you’re just left holding nothing?”

Zoey, the group’s peacekeeper, caught Meghan’s grimace and tried to defuse the situation. “Maybe we could add our own pet to it?”

Addison scoffed, but Meghan took her seriously, eager for a way to salve her wounded ego. “What pet?”

“Chris of course!” replied Zoey. 

Even Addison couldn’t resist a grin at the idea. The girls all turned as one to look in Chris’ direction, and he felt an ominous shiver down his spine. 

“But how?” asked Meghan in a whisper.

“I heard from Ms Madison that if he gets small enough, you can flatten him onto a page! He’s still alive like that, just trapped.” explained Zoey in an equally hushed voice. 

The girls shared looks between one another. None of them wanting to be the first to commit to this. It’d be a significant escalation of their bullying to permanently trap Chris in a magazine. The gleams in their eyes said all that needed to be said. They were all in. 

“Slumber party?” asked Meghan. 

Chris flinched as he saw the girls nod in unison. He couldn’t quite pick up what they were saying, but from their lowered tones he knew it couldn’t be good. He looked to the classroom doorway and wondered if he could make it there before they caught him. His speed was much reduced at his height, and he’d need to jump to reach the door handle. Still, he’d have better odds running than staying here…

But before Chris could make a move, the long shadow of Meghan and her friends loomed over Chris. “Are you free tonight Chris?” asked Meghan in a sickly sweet voice. 

“Err… no?” replied Chris. 

“Good! Then you can come over to my party tonight? We’re celebrating my photoshoot! Have you seen it? I look SO good!” 

“Thank you, but, um, I really need to go home…” Chris’ voice got breathier as he panicked at the predatory grins of the girls looking down on him. 

“No. You don’t. I said you’re coming with us.” said Meghan sternly, her earlier warmth gone in an instant. She snapped her fingers in the direction of Chris’ backpack. “Empty that!” Three of the girls complied, unzipping the top and upending the contents across the desk while Addison grabbed both Chris’ arms, holding him firmly against the cushion. 

“We can’t have our pet running away now can we?” said Meghan as she nodded to Addison. Addison lifted Chris into the air, his puny legs swinging in the air as he hung loose, then moved him over his empty backpack. 

“No! Please, I don’t like small spaces!” cried Chris, seeing where this was going. 

“It’s not small! It’s exactly your size,” said Addison as she forced him into his backpack. He had to curl up to fit, with his knees pressed tightly against his chest as she continued to push down on his head. She kept up the pressure until she was ready to zip up the backpack, sealing him inside. 

“P-please let me go!” yelled Chris, but the only response was laughter. He felt his stomach lurch as the backpack was picked up and carried over to Addison’s desk. She put it down on the floor between her feet, where she kicked Chris throughout the rest of the afternoon. It gave Chris a long time to imagine what horrors the clique would have for him when he was completely under their control tonight. 

Ms Madison noticed Chris’ absence, having taken more of an interest in him since she’d read about the prospect of flattening him into the textbook, but chose not to say anything about the squirming backpack under Addison’s desk. If those girls were going to have their way with him perhaps he’d be shrunken enough tomorrow for her to finally have her wish.

The afternoon felt like an eternity for Chris. He couldn’t get comfortable in the tight space of his backpack, and whenever he tried a kick from Addison forced him back into an awkward angle. He considered calling for help, but feared that nobody would care and it’d only agitate the clique, so he tried to stay quiet in the hope of being forgotten at the end of the class. Maybe if he was left alone long enough he could slip his finger under the zipper and get out.

Chris as just settling into a dazed state, waiting patiently for the end of the day, when there was a burst of noise around him. The squeal of chairs being pushed back and the excited chatter of his classmates marked the end of the school day. He held his breath as he closely listened to the sounds around him, waiting to see what’d be done. 

“Where’s our pet?” came Meghan’s muffled voice.

Chris’ stomach lurched as his whole world flipped around and he was lifted into the air.

“I’ve got him!” said Allison, poking at Chris’ outline through the backpack. The other clique members eagerly joined her, poking and stroking Chris through the backpack. 

“A-are we really going to do this? Kidnapping someone…” came Casey’s voice. A blonde clique member whose diminutive figure mirrored her timid ego. 

“We aren’t kidnapping anyone! He’s our pet!” replied Addison, provoking a round of giggles. 

This ended the debate and Chris was carried to Meghan’s pink convertible sports car. The five clique members clambered into all the seats, with Chris’ in the backpack resting on Addison’s lap. Chris’ occasional muffled cries were drowned out by the girls singing along to a popular girl-power band playing on Meghan’s phone.

After the 5th repeat of the same preppy song, Meghan swerved into the driveway of an enormous suburban home, with a white picket fence, green lawn, and rose bushes down the sides. The quintet leapt out the car and into the house.

Meghan’s mom was sitting in the kitchen, swirling a glass of wine, as the girls came charging through. 

“Hey mom, can we have a sleepover tonight?” asked Meghan, clutching her hands together in prayer.

“Hmm,” her mother’s drunken gaze swept over the girls. “Are you going to make a lot of noise?” 

Meghan exchanged looks with her clique and they all giggled. “Err, not a LOT of noise…” 

“Fine… Mrs Rodriquez! Prepare some additional beds!” yelled the mother to their unseen maid. 

An elderly woman peeked her head in from the hallway, replied “Right away ma’am,” and disappeared again. 

The girls squealed for joy, jumping from foot to foot and shaking Chris in the backpack. He was further rattled as they rushed upstairs to Meghan’s room, piled on, then slammed the door shut behind them. Chris vaguely heard the metal chink of Meghan locking the door behind them. They didn’t want any meddling adults interrupting their pet playtime.

Addison pulled back on the backpack’s zip, and Chris got his first gasp of clean air. He blinked at the bright lights and rubbed his eyes, with Meghan’s room slowly coming into focus. If a lifestyle magazine could come to life, it’d be this room. It was drenched in pink, with a pink duvet on the four-poster bed, pink curtains hanging from the enormous bay windows, pink wallpaper speckled with posters for girl pop bands, and an enormous pink rug in the centre of the room upon which Chris and his backpack were sitting. The girls had formed a circle around him, grinning with malicious intent as they watched his anxious glances around the room and he realised there was no teacher to hold them back, and no end-of-school clock countdown.

Chris cowered and waited for something to happen. 

The girls waited, then exchanged glances.

“What do we do now?” asked Casey.

Meghan crossed her arms under her bust as she thought about it. “I guess we should start with him apologising to Addison for perving on her?” There was a murmur of agreement among the girls.

Chris stepped out the backpack and immediately dropped to his knees, going prostrate in front of Addison. “I’m sorry, it was an accident!” he cried. 

The girls seemed to feed on Chris’ supplication, growing more confident about their dominant position. They giggled and shot envious looks at Addison. Addison reveled in her moment in the spotlight, and wasn’t going to let it end quickly. “I don’t really think just saying sorry is enough? I think he should have to do more…”

Chris’ thoughts raced as he tried to think what else he could do. He laid his head down on the rug, bowing as low as he could towards Addison, repeating his apology like a mantra. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Look at him, he’s such a pathetic little worm,” spat Addison with mock disgust, while brazenly delighting in it. “Worms like you deserve to squirm in the mud!” Addison lifted her left sneaker and laid it on top of Chris’ head, burrowing his face deeper into the thick rug. She ground her heel on him, causing a few flakes of dried mud to drop off and get tangled in his hair. She kept it up for several seconds, before getting a better idea. She loosened the lace then kicked her shoe off her foot, with her foot being bare beneath it. “Kiss it!” 

Chris tentatively looked up at the foot mere inches in front of him. Her toenails had been painted lilac, and she had a light tan line ran around her lower ankle where the sneaker normally ended. He pursed his lips and leaned closer, but hesitated. He didn’t want to compound his sins, he looked up Addison’s long leg to her face for approval. Was this really what she wanted? The smirk on her lips said yes.  

Chris’ lips made contact with Addison’s toes, making her wriggle them in disgust but she didn’t pull away. He tasted the sweat that’d built up while she’d worn the shoe all day. The other girls squealed in mock horror at the sight, stamping their feet as if they’d just seen a rat. 

“That’s so gross!” said Meghan, attempting to reclaim the impetus from Addison.

Addison continued to grin for several seconds before eventually pulling her foot back. “You’re so disgusting.” she spat down at Chris as she shook her foot in front of his face, as if shaking off his kiss. Chris crawled backwards to the backpack.

“What now?” asked Casey. 

“Tea party!” replied Megan instantly, before Addison could share an opinion. 

The girls eagerly agreed and each split off from the group to prepare, knowing exactly what to do. Gwen opened up the walk-in closet, bent over, and pulled out a small plastic table which she placed in the floorboards in the middle of an open space. Casey picked up several fluffy pink cushions with white tassels and laid them around the table. Zoey went over to the dresser to take up a tray with several china tea cups and lay them on table. Meghan unlocked her door and popped her head out into the hallway, screaming “Mrs Rodriquez! We need tea!” 

The elderly maid appeared a couple of minutes later with a large cream teapot, a pitcher of milk, and a jar of sugar stacked on a tray. She briefly glanced at Chris’ small cowering form as she passed him by, but didn’t react. She bowed and left as the girls settled on the cushions around the table, and Meghan began pouring each of them a cup of tea. There was one cushion left empty, but Chris remained where he was, hoping to be forgotten.

“Go get the pet,” said Meghan offhand without even looking at Chris. Casey giggled and nodded, then went over to Chris. She slowed as she looked down at him, scrunching up her lips as a thought entered her head. 

“He’s… kind of dirty isn’t he?” said Casey, looking at Chris’ disheveled hair and tatty clothes. “Does he belong at the table with us?”

“Good point!” said Meghan as she put down the teapot. “We should make him presentable!” Meghan snapped her fingers and the girls pushed aside their tea cups to make room for purses full of makeup, hair clips, and glossy fashion magazines. Each girl had her speciality. Meghan flipped through the pages, looking for inspiration. Zoey arranged her selection of mascara by length, Addison had a wide selection of lipsticks spread before her, and Gwen brought out multiple brushes and a variety of clips. 

Casey reached down towards Chris, slipping her fingers under his armpits so she could lift him like a toddler. She carried him over to the table, then sat down cross legged with Chris on her lap. She clutched him tight, pulling the back of his head into her chest so he propped up her bust, with her thighs locking him in from left and right.

“Let’s go with this one!” said Meghan as she spun her magazine around for the other girls to see. The page depicted a cute young girl with short blonde hair, pink lipstick, and a jubilant smile. The clique went to work converting Chris to match. Gwen roughly brushed his hair, causing him to wince each time she hit a knot, but he dared not pull away for fear of angering Addison who was dabbing his lips with fuschia pink lipstick. Zoey laid her thumb on his eyebrow, pinning his eyelid as she applied mascara to him. She jabbed him in the eye a couple of times with the bristles, making his eyes water, but Chris tried to bear it. As the others worked close up, Meghan dabbed a brush into her powdered blusher, then leaned in to dab Chris’ cheeks. 

Chris’ vision was like being attacked by an octopi, with several arms and hands reaching, pinching, stroking, and dabbing his face. Casey kept her arms wrapped around Chris, tightening her grip whenever he struggled, and giggling as she saw each new addition to him. He felt the vibration down his spine each time she laughed, causing the soft weight resting on the top of his head to jiggle too. 

The girls periodically leaned back enough to pull up the open magazine in front of Chris, contrasting his makeup with that of the girl on the page. The magazine was only a few inches from his nose when Meghan was unable to resist trying to flatten him inside. She punched it forward onto his face, squeezing the laminated pages against his cheeks and pinching his nose down the magazine’s spine. 

The other girls giggled as they heard Chris’ muffled cries from behind the magazine, with Meghan’s face scrunched up in effort as she pushed as hard as she could.

“Why. Won’t. He. Go. In!?!” she yelled between gasps of exertion. 

“I don’t think he’s small enough yet?” said Addison, noting that while the magazine covered Chris’s face and torso, his legs were freely kicking on Casey’s lap beneath it.

With an exasperated sigh, Meghan pulled back the magazine and glared at Chris. He cowered and shrank another inch from her angry look, but her features softened as she saw him shrink. 

“It’s working!” cried Meghan excitedly. While the clique knew Chris had been shrinking, they’d never seen it happen while they watched. But their excitement was short lived, as Chris’ shrinking slowed after just a few inches as he got used to the humiliation. They’d need to vary their degradations to keep Chris off balance and vulnerable. 

Meghan peeled the magazine off Chris’ face, leaving a smear on the page from the lipstick they’d applied to his lips. She laughed when she saw the mess of makeup on his face. 

“Oh my god, he’s so ugly!” she cried with mock horror. 

Casey relaxed her grip on Chris enough for him to wipe his face with the back of his hand, further smudging his makeup.

“I wouldn’t even keep you as a trash bin,” said Meghan. A flash of malicious inspiration gleamed in her eyes as she looked down at him. “Tilt his head back!” she told Casey, who dutifully pulled back Chris’ hands and cupped her palm under his chin, forcing his head backwards to face the ceiling. Meghan leaned over him, then reached down, tapping her fingertip down from his forehead, over his nose, to stop on his lips. She pushed her finger in, prying his lips and then his jaws apart. 

The other girls watched with excited confusion, unsure what Meghan was planning as she rolled her jaw a few times, swirling something in her mouth. She tilted closer to Chris, her lips approached his and for a moment he thought she was about to kiss him, but she paused a few inches away. Her long hair draped over him and he felt her hot breath on his skin. She grinned, then parted her lips to reveal a thick gob of saliva on her tongue. Chris struggled in Casey’s grip, trying to pull away as the strand of drool dripped from her mouth into his. The warm liquid splattered onto his tongue, and he gagged as he swallowed. 

Meghan pulled back with a triumphant grin while the other girls squealed in disgust. 

“I can’t believe you did that!” squealed Zoey. But the other girls seemed to have rather liked it, and Addison was the first in line to spit in Chris’ mouth too, followed by Gwen and then Casey, who had to spit while also holding him against her chest.

After losing another couple of inches in height, Casey eventually let Chris go. He flopped onto his knees and dry-heaved, trying to puke up all the gross saliva he’d been forced to swallow, but the girls already had other plans. 

“We can’t really have a tea party with him wearing… *that*,” said Addison, gesturing to Chris’ ragged clothing. The other girls nodded their agreement and lifted Chris into the air. He hovered there, each limb held by a different girl as they began plucking at his clothing, unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his pants. He was left with just his box shorts, which none of the girls were brave enough to remove… yet.

Meghan disappeared for a moment, then reappeared with several doll’s clothes. She held each of them up against Chris, attracting remarks from the other girls about whether it was too big, too small, too boring, or too plain. They settled on a pink pinafore with a white petticoat fluffing  up the skirt.

Satisfied with their work, they finally sat themselves on the rug around the knee-high table upon which the tea supplies were laid out. Meghan asked each girl how she liked her tea, and poured the requisite milk and sugar as requested. When it came to Chris, she didn’t ask his preference, she just filled his cup with sugar. When he objected, she wagged her finger at him, telling him “Girls are made of sugar and spice and all things nice,” so he should start with a pure sugar diet. 

The girls were just taking their first sips of tea when they were interrupted by a call from the hallway. “Dinner is about to be served!” came the croaky voice of Ms Rodriquez. The girls leapt to their feet, nearly upending the table in their haste. 

Casey turned to look at Chris. “What do we do about him?” 

“We can’t leave him alone, he might try to escape…” said Addison. 

“I have some ribbon…” said Meghan as she disappeared into her walk-in closet for a moment then brought out a box full of red, white, and pink ribbons. “Let’s tie him up!” 

Chris looked around frantically for safety. He didn’t want to be tied up! He only option he saw was gap under the nearby bed, they wouldn’t be able to reach him under there! He struggled to get to his feet with his petticoat flapping between his legs and barely got two steps before Casey snatched him into her arms. 

Meghan handed out the ribbons to the other girls, and they began wrapping it around Chris. First they pinned him arms to his sides with one ribbon, then another bound his ankles together. More went around his knees, his chest, and even over his mouth. 

“What if he needs to go potty while we’re out?” asked Zoey. 

Meghan nodded thoughtfully for a few moments, then walked over to her dressing table where she had a stack of older glossy girls’ magazines. Se flipped them open and laid them out on the floorboards, then directed Casey to lay Chris down on top of them as a makeshift litter tray. 

The girls looked smugly down at Chris as he struggled against his restraints, gazing up at the girls who had complete control over him.

“We’ll be back soon sweetie, don’t go anywhere!” said Meghan as she blew a kiss in his direction, making the other girls giggle and follow suit before heading out the room.

Their high pitched chatter faded, leaving Chris in silence. At first Chris was relieved, the constant noise was exhausting, but the silence gave him space to think on what was coming next, and he realised he far preferred the noise. He pulled against the ribbons binding him, sliding his body over the slick pages of the magazines beneath him, but couldn’t get free.

But as the minutes went on and tears streaked down his cheeks, the ribbons seemed to loosen around him. He realised his shrinking was actually beneficial this time if he shrank smaller than his restraints. He tried to keep himself calm and be patient, but his calmness inadvertently slowed his shrinking.

Eventually after prolonged struggling, he managed to slip his wrist out of the ribbon bindings, followed swiftly by his other wrist. Chris squirmed across the shiny surface of the magazine pages as he contorted his body around the ribbons. He was just struggling to his feet, knocking aside the ribbon across his mouth and down his shoulders, when he heard shrill voices growing louder. He spun around like a rabbit in headlights as the door rattled, then crashed open under the weight of five excited girls rushing through. 

Chris leapt into a run, heading for the space under the bed, but discovered running with a doll’s petticoat between his legs was harder than he’d thought. The girls squealed when they saw him escaping. Addison was the first to react, dashing forward to stamp her foot down between Chris and the bed, forcing him to turn and run the other way. 

The other girls joined in the chase, they snatched additional magazines from Meghan’s desk and held them vertically in Chris’ path like glossy walls. He wasn’t able to slow his speed enough to avoid colliding with the magazines, with his body flattening against the front cover before the girl holding it flicked the magazine forward to knock him into his butt. Chris quickly regained his footing and resumed his run, only to be blocked again, and again. Each time the magazines were held closer to him, forming a tighter prison until the five girls had him surrounded on all sides.

“Please…” cried Chris, fighting back tears. “Just let me go!”

“Awww, the baby is crying!” cooed Addison. 

“Maybe we should put him to bed?” replied Meghan with a mischievous air. 

The girls started up a chant of “bed time!” drowning out Chris’ cries. Meghan reached into the magazine prison and picked Chris up. The other girls began plucking at his doll clothing, stripping it off him until he was left with just his boxers. Chris had shrunk to the size of a baby and Meghan cradled him in one arm, and with the other she pinched his boxer shorts and pulled them down his thighs. Chris tried to hold them up, but she was stronger. 

The other girls squealed when they saw Chris’ flaccid dick flopping between his thighs. 

“He’s so small!” teased Casey. 

“What do you expect? He’s a baby~” said Addison as she prodded at Chris’ cock, flopping it from side to side with her fingernail.

To Chris’ embarrassment, his cock grew harder under Addison’s touch, jerking upright and becoming firmer. She giggled and pinched it tight between her thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth. 

“Please… stop,” he gasped. 

Addison pinched harder while the other girls watched closely, curious about what’d happen. Chris was anxious about a friction burn on his sensitive cock before Addison hawked up a gob of saliva and spat on it, offering some much needed lubrication against her fingers. The drool dribbled all the way down his shaft as Addison continued to toy with him. His chest rested against Meghan’s bust as she cradled him, with him sandwiched between Meghan’s softness and Addison’s hardness.

He closed his eyes when he knew he couldn’t hold back any further, and a small spurt of cum jumped out the tip of his cock to splatter Addison’s hand. 

“EWWWWWWW!” she screamed, followed by a chorus of disgusted squeals and giggles from the other girls.

Meghan watched smugly as Addison snatched up a magazine, flipped it to a random page of a girl showing off the new Autumn dress collection, and tried to wipe the cum off her hand with it. The sticky white substance smeared across the page, marring the photo of the posing girl.

Chris was so embarrassed, he wanted to bury himself into the crook of Meghan’s arm and disappear. His height dropped to that of a barbie doll.

“Do you think he’s small enough?” came Zoey’s tentative voice. 

“Oh! YES!” cried Meghan excitedly as she remembered the whole purpose of this slumber party. While still cradling Chris in one arm, she flipped through the pages of a magazine, looking for her photoshoot. She found the page she wanted, with an image of her cupping an empty hand while wearing a cute summer dress. She laid the open magazine down on her bed as the other girls gathered around. 

“NO! PLEASE! I DON’T WANT TO BE FLATTENED!” screamed Chris in a squeaky voice.

Meghan ignored him as she laid him down on the magazine spine, with his spine sandwiched between the two pages. Goosebumps ran up his neck at the coolness of the page. Meghan gripped the corner of the page, grinned down at Chris, then flipped the magazine closed over him. Chris’ vision went dark as the page cowered him, leaving him in a tunnel.

Meghan laid both hands on top of the lump in the magazine, then dropped her whole body weight onto it, crushing Chris within. His cries grew shriller and more panicked as the magazine flattened out and him with it. He felt the cool slick sensation of the glossy page spread across his skin as he flattened down to 2d. His struggles got weaker as it become harder to move, feeling like his limbs were drenched in sticky pudding, 

Meghan took her hands off the magazine to flip around, leap up, and land on the magazine with her butt. She rolled her hips from side to side, squeezing what remained of Chris down, until finally the magazine flattened out.

The girls listened with baited breath for Chris’ voice, but it didn’t come. Meghan stood up and turned around at the magazine laid flat across her bed. Other than a bent corner at one edge, it looked completely normal, you’d never guess what was contained inside. She excitedly picked it up and flipped through the pages, momentarily skipping past Chris’ page in her haste and having to go back. She squealed with glee as she saw the page with Chris’ panicked expression looking out from the page. He looked like he was trapped between the fingers of the photographed Meghan. His limbs didn’t move, but his eyes could still swivel around to look up at the girls staring down at him. 

“Oh my god, it worked!” whispered Meghan. The clique cheered and danced around the bed, causing a ruckus that took several minutes to die down.

After the excitement had died down and Ms Rodriquez popped her head in to remind them it was bedtime, the girls changed into their pyjamas and nightgowns. Thru turned off the light, but kept a torch on as they gathered in a circle on Meghan’s bed, playing truth or dare. All the dares involved doing various things with the magazine containing Chris. From kissing his image to wiping it on their butt, both of which evoked squeals of mock disgust.

The following day Meghan took the magazine in to class to show off to the other girls. Even Ms Madison was impressed they’d managed to trap Chris so effectively. 

Chris was left trapped in his prison, unable to move but aware of every moment. Most of the time he wished he could escape the page, but whenever the clique had his page open he feared what he’d be escaping into. All he knew is that  the clique weren’t done with their favourite plaything yet…

Chapter End Notes:


I believe this is my first story that doesn't end with someone being eaten or cooked. Personally I would have ended it with a vore scene, but the commissioner had an obsession with glossy magazines.

In case you missed the intro, the commissioner (Hipher on furaffinity and Crash Kyanite#0074 on Discord) performed a disappearing act when it came time for payment for the draft story, so the story remains a bit rough around the edges having been unedited.

My commission queue remains open (to non-scammers), but involves a lengthy wait. If any readers think they might be interested then please get in touch via PM/comments or on Discord (BunnyWrites#4146).

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