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“Hmmm, I don’t think this batch is sweet enough, Timmy,” said Ashley, withdrawing her testing finger from her mouth with a moist pop. “It needs more high fructose and less phosphoric acid.”

Timothy Springer leaned back in his chair and huffed a sigh, rolling his eyes up at the factory ceiling of Fizzy Pop, Inc. He hadn’t been able to get the recipe right today. Ashley, one of the batch testers, had been hounding his ass all morning about the correct ingredient levels. Her constant nagging was starting to irritate Timothy, but even more than that, she still hadn’t honored his request to be called by his actual name. 

“I told you, Ashley,” he said, dropping his eyes back down from the ceiling, “my name’s Timothy, not Timmy. No one else outside of this job ever calls me Timmy.” 

“Aww but I like “Timmy” more,” said Ashley, cracking a smile. “The name “Timothy” sounds too official for you.”

“Yeah!” came a laughing voice. Timothy looked around to see Patricia, another one of the batch testers, enter the room and stand next to his chair, looking down on him. “Like, Timmy, if you were our superior, say like, a supervisor or something, then maybe we’d call you “Timothy.”” 

“But you’re just a batch mixer,” came a third voice. He rolled his eyes again, not even needing to see who it was to know that Katie had joined in on the fun. “So you’re “Timmy.”” The three women laughed heartily at their own jokes as their eyes danced down at Timothy, who continued to sit moodily in his chair. 

“Ha ha you three,” replied Timothy sarcastically, “you all are just hilarious. Did you know that?” Deep down, though, he knew the girls were right — he certainly didn’t have a lot of power at Fizzy Pop, Inc. And even though Ashley, Patricia, and Katie had all joined the company around the same time he had a year ago, they had risen in the ranks as a result of their high performance. Timothy, though, had not quite managed to master his job yet, even though his performance was satisfactory. 

Come to think of it, he was just about average in every way. At 5’8 and 165 pounds, with features that weren’t either handsome or ugly, he had spent the majority of his adult life, up to his current age of 28, simply coasting by, not having any real effect on anything around him. He came to work 8 hours a day, 40 hours a week, and spent most of his time trying not to screw anything up too badly. He was an average guy at an average company who did an average job — he had no real ambitions to speak of….except……

Timothy Springer kept a deep secret. While it was clear to just about anyone, especially Ashley, Patricia, and Katie, that he was a timid beta male who didn’t have the strength or intelligence to defend himself from their teasing, no one knew his true desire: he was a hopelessly obsessed macrophiliac. Ever since he was a little boy, he had been fascinated with giantesses and larger, taller women. He had no idea how he had gotten this way; all he knew was that the older he got, the more powerful this fetish became. For it was indeed a fetish — Timothy spent hours almost every night on his computer, going through image after image, frame after frame, page after page of giantess content on the far corners of the internet. Giant women growing before his eyes…men shrinking down smaller and smaller, even as the women around them became bigger and bigger, taller and taller, their asses and breasts swelling, all the time becoming more and more dominant the bigger they became.

This was Timothy’s fantasy. He thought about it all the time, especially during moments like these, when the three girls were teasing him. He looked at the three of them, giggling and laughing at him, and could feel his cock start to thicken a little in his pants at the light humiliation they were inflicting. If only….but there it was again…he was losing himself in those crazy giantess fantasies again. He knew they weren’t possible. As he looked at his three female coworkers, he had caught himself imagining them much bigger, and much prettier. True, none of them were really bad-looking, and Katie was actually pretty cute. But they were all plain-looking compared to the amazon giantesses he fantasized about every night. And what’s more, all three of them were shorter than him. Ashley came pretty close to his height, since she stood around 5’6 or so…once, she had even worn heels to a company function and stood a couple inches taller than him. She had teased him about it, and even went so far as to pet him on the top of the head and pretend that he was her younger brother…it had all been too much for Timothy, and he was forced to leave the party and go home to jerk himself off to crazy thoughts of Ashley being one, two, three feet taller than him. 

Patricia and Katie were both around 5’4, but that didn’t stop them from teasing Timothy like he was their younger brother. The three girls weren’t malevolent and didn’t actually want to hurt him; they were all just better at their jobs and enjoyed lightly teaming up on him for a bit of a laugh. It helped them deal with the frustrations of working with a colleague who was a bit slower on the uptake than they were. 

“Well I know we’re pretty funny,” said Ashley knowingly, winking at down Timothy. “Let’s see what Clare says when she comes in here.”

“Aww no, Ashley!” complained Timothy, standing up from his chair suddenly. “You didn’t text Clare about this, did you?” 

“Of course she did,” said Patricia simply. “What else would you expect, Timmy?” 

“It’s just that…uh…it’s just — I can do better,” he stammered lamely. 

“Yeah, we know,” said Ashley, not unkindly but with a little bite in her voice. “That’s why I’m getting Clare in here to help set you straight.” 

He sighed, drooping his shoulders defeatedly as he sank back beneath the three women and into his chair. He really didn’t want to deal with Clare right now. She was his boss, the Supervisor of Quality Control at the Fizzy Pop plant. She wasn’t particularly bright, but it was definitely true to say that she knew how to play her cards right. She had risen quickly in the ranks of the company because she had managed to seduce one of Fizzy Pop’s regional managers. She must have been pretty good in bed, because in only a few months she had gone from a batch mixer like Timothy to the quality supervisor for the whole plant. Timothy felt his heart sink a little as he heard the tell-tale signs of her walking down the hall: her high heels clinked and clacked smartly against the concrete plant floor, echoing off the hallway walls. 

“Ooooo here she comes,” Katie teased. 

“The alpha female coming to discipline the beta male,” joined in Patricia, giggling. 

“Would you all seriously stop it?” said Timothy irritatedly. It was already enough to be told that he wasn’t doing a good enough job. But their gentle humiliation was turning him on, and he resented having to rearrange himself in his chair to hide his growing erection. 

“Timmy, Timmy, Timmy,” came Clare’s voice from the hallway, and a moment later she strode into the room, shaking her head back and forth. “Too much phosphoric acid in the batch, huh? Come on, Timmy, we’re making soft drinks here, not farm fertilizer.” Ashley, Patricia, and Katie snickered at Clare’s joke. 

“I—I know, Clare,” said Timothy, feeling a little intimidated in the presence of his boss. “I just…I just need a little more practice to, uh…to uh, get the levels right.” 

“Hmmm, yes, clearly you do,” said Clare matter-of-factly. She was standing directly in front of his chair now, her hands folded behind her back as she looked down on him, a bit sternly. She looked at him like that silently for a few moments. 

“Come on Timmy,” she said abruptly, “let’s review the recipe one more time, shall we?” Timothy obeyed and fumbled at his desk for the appropriate papers. Clare moved to join the three other women beside his desk. In her three-inch heels, Clare was almost exactly Timothy’s height. She was by far the most attractive female at the company, and she knew it. She had a long mane of wavy red hair that went down to her middle back, and as far as her fashion choices were concerned, it was clear to everyone, and especially Timothy, that she chose her wardrobe with one thing in mind: exerting her sexual appeal over her male employees. And it definitely worked. She could get the men under her to do all kinds of things that they wouldn’t ordinarily do. The female employees looked up to her with reverence, and admired how much she was able to exert her power over the guys at the company. Deep down, Ashley, Patricia, Katie, and all the other women at the company felt a mixture of admiration and jealousy. They all wanted that same power over men that Clare had.

But none of them quite had Clare’s figure; today she had squeezed her curvaceous body into a shiny black dress that only reached down to about her mid-thighs, leaving little of her shape to the imagination. With every movement, she flashed her thick wide hips, her prodigious fleshy ass, and her rounded D-cup breasts. Timothy wondered how much she weighed…she was so curvy and fleshy that he was sure that she weighed more than his slight-build 165 pounds. 

‘God, she probably weighs at least 170 or 175,’ he thought as he gaped down at her developed thighs and her rounded vigorous ass. 

“Eyes up here Timmy,” Clare’s voice cut in, as she snapped her fingers in front of his face. 

“Oh! S-sorry Clare,” he mumbled in embarrassment. Clare’s eyes narrowed playfully as she chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. 

“Well, I can’t really blame you,” she said arrogantly, enjoying the appreciative laughs of Ashley, Patricia, and Katie. “And at this point I’m just used to it.” She spread her arms and did a complete 360-degree turn, giving Timothy and the other women a full view of her figure. She came back around, smiling at him deviously. 

“There. Had your fill for the day?”

He nodded his head sheepishly, not knowing how else to respond. 

“Good,” she said, “because now it’s time to pay attention to the batch recipe. Let’s review it one more time, alright? Girls you can join in too, and if you can think of any special tips to help our little Timmy here, please speak up, ok?” 

“Ok!” all three of them said enthusiastically. Timothy felt the color start to rise up his neck into his face, more from arousal at Clare’s unintended use of the phrase “little Timmy” than anything else. She had meant it as a slight and harmless tease, but to him it went straight to his dick. He crossed his legs in his chair as the four women gathered around him to review the recipe, hoping that his position would hide his erection. This was too much, he suddenly realized…his increased preoccupation with his giantess fetish was probably causing him to lose his concentration at his job. As Clare talked and the other three girls chimed in from time to time, Timothy struggled to absorb what they were saying. In such close proximity to the four women, he could not help but imagine himself shrinking in his chair, shrinking….shrinking…until his feet no longer touched the floor, until his head no longer rose above the backrest. He imagined Clare’s curves growing even huger before his eyes…Ashley’s arms and legs lengthening, Patricia’s hips and thighs widening and thickening, and Katie’s already-fat ass getting even fatter, plumper. 

He was able to absorb so little of the information that Clare was trying to impart that she made him stay at work late that night, until he got the batch just right. It wasn’t until 11:50 pm that he was finally leaving the batch production room, yawning and rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, as he locked up the factory and headed to his car on the fourth level of the parking deck. 

Chapter End Notes:

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