You're Tom, a 17 year old guy that is getting through college life day by day. Average height, average wieght with a little build up here and there, but nothing that could be described as 'muscles'. Unknown to your friends, you like guys, finding them attractive at a level that matches some of the most ardent women. However, in the envronment you're in, finding a good partner isnt easy, untill now.
Walking into the locker room, you're chatting to one of your mates, Chris, not really paying attention to what he's saying, just whatching him. The thing with Chris is, you have always found him unbearably attractive. Even if not the most intellectual, his saving grace is his tongue, whatching him speak as it flaps round in that drool filled maw really does it for you. A little taller and bigger than you too. He's always been the playful type, even a little gross at times in his jollities.
As you change out of your normal clothes and into your football (soccer) gear, Joel walks buy patting you on the back.
"Good luck today Tom, betcha' can't wait to get out there " He laughed and he too began to get changed next to you. You have to be careful not to stare at his perfect body and he pulls off his shirt, revealing his smooth upper chest and toned pot-belly. He's arrogant but he has a right to be, judgemental but extremely sexed up; this kid is a walking libido. Even with his trousers on, you can see his well endowed package, the envy and current property of some lucky girl. You sigh as you think of the depths of those briefs...
A yell wakes you up, it's Jim, faux-karate chopping some kid nearby. Jim is huge. A drummer at easy 6 foot 3, his height and muscled body dominates the space around it. You're on good terms with Jim, who is always open and extrovert about his body, which has landed you in some pretty odd situations such as being inbetween those trunkings legs with your head at his junk, one of the more memorable experiences of growing up. Being dominant and agressive, but open to criticism so long as its subtle.
After sometime, you search around for your boots, unable to find them. Its not long before you realise they are still in your bedroom, how could you forget? You need to get a spare pare and you walk down to the spare equipment locker at the back, passing past the 3 or so rows filled with other guys, half naked (some of them even walking around fully so). In the last row are two guys, Dean and Luke.
Now, these two are the top predators, the highest in the food chain. Any girl is theirs and they know it. Dean, a spikey browned hair charmer is possibly the hottest guy you know. Defined abs, smooth calfs and, your favourite part, perfect feet. You've been pretty intimate with his shoes before, and you know you love them. Dean has the quality of being inviting and laid back, asking all those around to love him.
Luke is a similar character, dark blonde spikey hair with the biggest adams apple known to mankind. Fumbling around in the old boots, you turn to look at the two, with Luke facing the otherway infront of Dean, giving you a perfect view of his muscular ass squeezed under the tight fabric of his shorts. He turns round and you quickly set your gaze to the box of old shoes. Something pricks your finger and you pull out quickly.
There's no blood and so you grab the nearest pair of size 10's and begin to walk back. By now everyone is filing out of the room and ont the pitch, while you haven't even got your socks on. How long were you looking at Dean and Luke? Too long, obviously.
Again, you look round and everyone is gone, a deadly silence. The only thing in your company is the empty shells of clothes and shoes that the group left behind. Your eyes grow heavy, closing them for the briefest second before opening them again, but this time, darkness.
You panic, thinking somehow you're blind and you throw your arms around frantically, being weighed down by something. Finally you are showered in light as you hit freedom. In a dazed state, everything looks bigger, much bigger. The rows of benches are like multistory car parks, and what is obviously your football jersey is now coiled around you like a woollen pool. You pull yourself out, naked, and stand in your giant world.
How could this have happened is your first thought, your mouth agape. But a second thought enters your mind. You're a tiny (what would seem to be 2 or 3 inches) high guy trapped in a room soon to be filled with hot studs. Your cock jumps a little at the prospect of it... remembering all those stories you read, all those dreams you had, could it be real?
The feeling of worry begins to arise though as you remember the often cruel fate of those foolhardy miniature heroes who chose to 'have a little fun', but when else would this kind of chance arise?
You can either remain hidden and explore the possibilties of this new and exciting idea without the guys noticing you, or you can get in a position where they can know about you, and hopefully resort the matter, and maybe, just maybe, have a little safe fun.
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