The game ended, and the child-sized man was watching the hgihlights and analysis. He eyed his drink on the side. One more sip wouldn’t hurt, would it? He reached to the glass, and dragged it closer to him. One more sip. Two. Aaah, that hit the spot! He felt the familiar warmth overtake his body much faster than usual. A yawn, and then another. Bedtime. He looked around. He COULD just sleep on the couch, it was big enough to hold him. But that wouldn’t be very comfortable, would it? Plus, he had his whole room to himself now.
John got up and slid carefully down the couch. Having to hold himself until his toes touched the ground was a new feeling (or an old one, rediscovered). He turned off the TV and placed the remote on the coffee table, next to the still not finished drink. John walked out into the hallway, and reached the door to “his new room. He held the handle, and then paused. He’d need the bathroom before bedtime. Good that he remembered, else he’d wake up in the middle of the night and be all annoyed. The man went to the bathroom, reached up to turn the light on, and looked around. Just like the other rooms, it was big and imposing, but not prohibitively huge. John smiled. See, there is no downside to being the size of a six year old. He went over to the toilet, and realized that he had to stand on his toes after he pulled his pants (and cute panties) down in order to clear the rim. He rested his member on the rim and relieved himself. “If I need number two, I’ll need to climb up”, the noted, even though he didn’t need it yet. After he was done, he reached forward to pull the flush lever, but couldn’t reach it from where he was standing. Okay. Just walk around the side, tug on it, flush, there we go. He had to learn all of those extra little motions that his new, better and improved and reduced size dictated.
John then went for the sink. His daughter’s step stool was there on the side. He pulled it closer with his foot, and stepped on the plastic stool, giving him a boost to reach the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. He was slowly getting used to it! John reached forward to the cup with the family’s toothbrushes, and picked up his. How big it felt in his hands! He made another mental note, to open up a new kid-sized toothbrush tomorrow. He washed his face too, feeling the cool water against his slightly drunk face. It felt good, almost too good – it pushed his sleepiness back a little bit. John finished and tugged on the bottom of the hand-towel until it got dislodged from its holder ring and dropped down in his little hands. He wiped his hands and face, folded the towel and left it on the edge of the sink for easier reach. He then took a step back to leave the bathroom.
John had forgotten about the step-stool. So when he took that step, his foot hovered on air longer than he thought, and the man got sent tumbling back. He panicked and flailed about, trying to grab something, but he misjudged his reach. He crashed hard on his back on the floor, his head missing the wall by a few inches. If he was just a bit taller, he would have smacked his head against the wall and potentially snap his neck. John hurt like hell, on his back, on his head, it was all aching. “Fuck!” he yelled and kicked with his feet at the little stool. Stupid designers, the bathroom wasn’t child friendly at all! He was glad that his daughter hadn’t had such an accident. But he’d remember the stool now.
The man spent some time sulking and rubbing at his sore body, and then finally got up. Bedtime will make it all better. He hobbled over to the room, dragging his feet. At this point the shoes were getting tiring, no matter how awesome it was to be wearing them. Once he got in his new room, he pulled and tugged and slipped his socked feet off his little shoes without even needing to undo the velcro (mostly because the shoes were pretty soft from being worn for a while now, they weren’t that new). He removed his pants, and paused for a moment, touching the girl panties he was wearing. It was always hard to get that last drop of pee out, and this time it was no different – he felt that one wet spot on the side. Yet another mental note, that he’d need to do the laundry before his family returned. The man then removed his lime-green shirt, and tossed it on the ground next to the little pair of jeans. Didn’t he promise to clean up the room? At this point he was only adding to the mess. But the man was still slightly drunk, and his body still ached him from his previous fall, and he couldn’t bother. John walked over to the bed. Child sized, currently covered with a thick and fluffy pink comforter, it looked much more inviting than his marital bed had done in years. He wondered if his daughter would ever accept to cuddle together to sleep, maybe John could even be the little spoon and let her keep him safe and warm. He shook his head. That was fantasy, but also insanity. John looked around, and found his new pajamas on the edge of the bed. He picked them up and unfolded them. A basic set of dark-red pants and shirt, and… on the chest area, a little embroidered heart. He felt the fabric in his hands, and spent a few seconds touching that little heart. And then he put them on. They were a slightly new pair of pajamas, which his wife had bought for their daughter. To make them last, she had bought them a couple of sizes too big, expecting that her little girl will grow into them. But for John, that meant that they were slightly too big. The bottoms of the legs were bunched up around his ankles, dragging on the floor, and when he put the shirt on, the sleeves covered up to the middle of his fingers. He felt so small at that point, a feeling so warm that it even rivaled the alcohol still in his veins.
John tugged on the comforter and pulled the top off the bed. He then pulled himself up, and slid under the cover, dropping his head on the pillow. One quick pull later, and he was covered up to his neck with his daughter’s warm comforter. He let his body relax, feeling that he was not weighing down the mattress as much as he thought he would. He turned to the side, and th noticed that there was something under the pillow. Puzzled, he raised his head a little and reached underneath to pull out the offending object. It was one of those small fairy-like dolls. He had no idea why his daughter stashed it there, but he tossed it down on the floor. Just as he did that, he regretted it. He wanted to hold onto the toy just a bit longer, and … he wanted to imagine himself being the toy, being held by his daughter like that. Wait, what? He never had a fantasy to shrink below human sizes before. It must be the drink talking. Still, he wasn’t about to push himself out of his ultra comfortable bed to go find the little doll.
He turned to the other side again, and started thinking of the day’s events. The tea, the hellish experience of shrinking, trying on his kid’s own clothes, being so small… he started getting a little hard. His sex life was essentially non-existent at this point, and it has been quite a while since he was satisfied. He kept thinking of the pajamas he was wearing right now. Made for a little child, and yet already oversized for him. He thought that he was still wearing his daughter’s socks and underwear. He thought of the closet and all the stuff he’d raid and try on before the end of the week. Before realizing it, his little hand was in his pants, pumping firmly. He thought of the height marks on the door frame, and started imagining putting his own, shrinking-over-time marks there too. Fuck, this was so hot, and he knew it was so wrong, but who cares. His little underwear constricted him a bit, made for kids that did not have dicks, never mind getting erections. He freed himself, feeling the tip of his erection rubbing against the underside of the warm comforter. He could feel the dampness forming up.
This was disgusting. It reminded him of his first times he had discovered jerking off, when his own father had caught him and gave him the “talk” about how he needs to do it with a tissue or something, not against his bedsheets. But John was an adult, he was the boss, he promised he’ll just wash the sheets and the comforter. He kept masturbating, imagining himself standing on his toes to hug his kid, imagining himself being towered over by her friends when they visited, imagining himself being forced to wear hand-me-downs instead of ever being allowed to buy clothes for his new size. Uh, he was so close now! The man felt the rush coming, and imagined himself smaller than his daughter was when she was just learning to walk. A little bumbling toddler that could already trip up over her smaller daddy. Oh dear. He panicked, and tugged on his panties, pushing them over his dick, covering it just as it erupted with the man’s desperate load. Two, three waves, and it was over. He felt the cotton fabric absorbing it, dousing even the princess print with his cum. Thick and sticky, a little bit of it falling back on his skin. He felt so, so disgusting by what he just did. He should really get up an clean himself, but could not find the energy to do so. The fluids even seeped to the pant leg of his pajamas. It was hopeless. He sighed, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.