Selfish

The house was silent, save for the ticking of a clock overhead. It was quite an odd occurrence given the three men sitting around the kitchen table. Normally they would be enjoying a nice chat right about now, talking about sports or television or something interesting, but right now, the three men just sat silent, every so often sending an angry glare one of his friend's ways. They were all fed up with the past proceedings and were going to deal with the situation today.

The sound of the door opening reached the kitchen. Their fourth must've finally made it. As he plod into the kitchen where the men were gathered, he was met with three angry stares.

"Sorry I'm late, but you guys know I live far away." said the man in the doorway, a lean, blond-haired man, looking to be in his mid to late twenties.

"Regardless, now that we're all here, let's start this, shall we?" began the man in the center of the three seated friends, a brown-haired, musclebound man around the age of thirty. "You all know why we're here, right? Jack?" He turned to the man to his left, also brown-haired, but with an average build and a few years younger. Jack nodded. "Toby?" He now turned to look at the man on his right, blond and scrawny, somewhat like the newcomer, but on the short side with a small gut in front of him, and in his early twenties. Toby nodded. "Jason?" He finally turned to the newcomer as Jason took his seat across from him.

"Yes, just get on with it, Brad." said Jason, getting comfortable.

Brad cleared his throat and continued, "For years now, we've all been best of friends. We vowed that nothing would come between us. And up until now, we upheld our promise and held our friendships above everything else. But, recently..." Brad reached under the table and produced two shoe boxes. He opened the first one and took out two bottles, one with an odd orange-brown coloring and the other a violent red. "Recently we came across these. I can safely assume none of us ever thought something like this would come up. This is something supernatural, otherworldly, and simply fantastic. As we learned through our studies of these substances, they do this..." He opened the second box and upturned it. An inch tall man fell out onto the table.

The four men smiled at the tiny guy, remembering the time they each had with him. In short, the tiny man was a former friend of theirs who was now basically a sex toy for the use of the four friends. Each was allotted time to live out his fantasies with the shrunken man. The system worked well at first. All of the men were happy to share the little man amongst themselves. But, as the weeks passed, the men began to get greedy, wanting more and more time with their tiny sex toy. It had finally reached the point where the men all hated each other and wanted to sever their ties and take the tiny man with them.

The tiny man looked up at his captors and proceeded to flip them all off. "Whoa," chuckled Jack, "Looks like our little buddy is in a bad mood this morning."

"You bastards!" the tiny man squeaked up at them. "Get me back to normal now!"

"You're ordering us?" Toby laughed loudly, "Remember who's in charge here. We could end your life on a whim, little guy!"

"My name is Andrew, you fuckers! And if you're going to end my life, then do it! I just can't stand doing this anymore! Having to serve your sexual desires... It's disgusting!"

"I think that'll do." Brad lifted him off the table and placed him back in the box which then went down on the floor. "So, we have to decide who is keeping the little shit. That way we can all stop this bickering and get on with our lives away from each other." The others nodded in agreement. It was at this point Brad broke into a smile. "Now, I propose we have a little contest."

"Contest?" Jason queried. The others looked back and forth between each other. They knew Brad had something in mind. And when Brand gets an idea, it's never good.

"We know that the brown liquid here shrinks people. Our good buddy Andrew is proof of that. And we know that the red bottle grows people back to normal. What I have in mind is we each drink some of the brown drink and shrink down. Then we have a race. First one to reach the red drink wins."

The other men looked at each other again. Toby was the first to speak up, "But that means that whoever loses will be at the mercy of the winner..."

"Exactly, it'll be winner take all. And I mean all."

Jack stood up and turned. "Fuck this, there's no way I'm putting my life at risk just for a tiny man."

"Really, Jack? Remember all the fun you had with Andrew? Think about that multiplied by four."

Jack stood silent for a minute or two, thinking. The other two were doing the same in their seats. Four tiny men at your disposal... to do with as you please....

"We can't just shrink some other guys so we all have one?"

"Remember how hard it was to hide Andrew? You really want to go through that three more times?"

Jack sighed and sat back down. "Alright how are we doing this?"
**********************

A few minutes later, the four men each had a small cup of the brown liquid. They eyed it warily. None of them were eager to shrink down and become a potential sex toy for his friends.

"Alright guys, we've got about 2 minutes before this stuff kicks in. We all take it at the same time and make our way to the designated spots. I get the bedroom, Jack takes the bathroom, Toby gets the living room, and Jason goes to the gym room. First one back here," he placed the red bottle in the center of the table, "and drinks the antidote, wins. And if anyone tries to cop out, the others force the drink down his throat, got it? Oh and don't forget, some of my buds might be coming over today. Just more obstacles, right? Okay, everyone ready?" They nodded and took the cups to their lips. "Cheers, gentlemen."

The cups were drained of their contents. All of the men let the drink slide down their throats and into their stomachs. It was only a matter of time now. One last look at the others and the friends all headed out toward their designated starting point. When this was all over, one of them would own the others.




Jason was tossing and turning and sweating as it took precedence in his mind. It was a bad dream. He could see every moment clearly. He was there, and Toby, Jack, and Brad. And then there was Andrew. Best buds, the five of them. Then Andrew was gone. Their bond was broken, the tie severed brutally. He would never forget the pain he felt from Andrew's departure. He wanted revenge. They all did. They wouldn't let their friend go.

Jason awoke with start. He felt like utter shit. Last he could remember, he walked into Brad's extensive gym room and sat on an exercise bike. As part of the contest, they all agreed to wait for the stuff to kick in while sitting on an elevated surface, adding a climbing portion to the race. In retrospect, he should've chosen something a little easier to climb down from.

He now stood on a large leathery surface, viewing the large room from the perspective of a one inch tall man. He was still on the seat of the bicycle, but he had no idea where to go from here. There was a very large chance that he would slip off the smooth leather surface and fall a very large and painful distance.

Then he heard a noise. A loud noise. An obnoxious noise that wouldn't shut up. It could only be one thing.
***************

Across the hall and on the other side of the house, sitting on the rim of the toilet in Brad's bathroom, Jack heard the same noise. He knew all too well what it was. Brad's gym buddies had arrived. They were some of the most obnoxious, boastful, and self-centered jocks you could find. And they were coming this way. Jack could hear them coming down the hall.

"Brad really said he would let us have the run of his house for the entire day?"

"Yeah, I couldn't believe it either. Brad usually hates when we come over."

"Cause we always wind up trashing the place!" The men laughed loudly as they passed right by the bathroom door.

"Oh, hey, hang on guys, I gotta go take a dump. I'll join you guys in a bit." The gold-painted knob turned and the door swung open as one of the jocks walked into the bathroom. Jack had hidden at the first sound of the door knob turning. He just wish he had picked a better spot than under the back of the toilet seat. The jock grabbed his toned stomach as it gave a low, loud gurgle. "Ugh, I hate when my stomach gives me trouble." He plodded over to the toilet and lowered his pants.
***************

Jason was trying desperately not to fall off the bike seat. He had made an attempt to climb down, but couldn't find a foothold anywhere. He was now just dangling over the side.

The chatter from the jocks was wafting in from down the hall. There had to be dozens of them out there. How was he supposed to make it to the kitchen unnoticed by twenty or so guys?

Wait. Some of the noise was getting closer.

The door opened and a small group of jocks walked in, each holding a beer. Their conversation confirmed Jason's suspicions. They were only in here to hang out because there wasn't enough room in the living room for all of them, and the living room could've held King Arthur, the round table, and their horses.

Jason was getting tired. He had been holding on for at least a couple minutes now, but he wasn't going to be able to keep it up much longer. His fingers tried desperately to dig into the leather, but there just wasn't enough friction. A gigantic ass descended upon him and sat upon the bike. He slipped.
***************

The toilet seat creaked and pressed down on Jack as the jock sat upon it. He could see the two round moons of the jock's ass hanging down from his position under the seat. The cheeks quivered, then moved apart slightly to release a huge fart into the bowl. The smell hit Jack like a wall. He couldn't breathe at all.

The jock's ass shifted again as a long, thick piece of shit snaked out of his ass. And Jack thought the fart was bad. His lungs were burning, screaming for fresh air. He thought he was going to pass out. The shit broke off and plopped into the water. Up above, Jack heard a sigh of relief and felt the pressure of the seat lift off him.

Jack rolled out onto the rim and sneaked around the edge as the jock was preparing some toilet paper for use. But how to get down from here?

The jock's gut gave another loud, gurgling groan as he ripped another fart. He wasn't done here yet, but Jack wasn't about to stick around. As the jock's ass descended, Jack lowered himself onto the edge, dangling himself over the side. He looked up and saw the wad of toilet paper in the jock's hand was still attached to the roll. This was his chance! He threw himself onto the sheet next to him and was lowered to the floor as the toilet paper unrolled.

The jock looked down in surprise to see the toilet paper unrolling. He checked the floor to see what it was, but there wasn't anything there, just the toilet paper. Jack was up against the base of the toilet and was creeping slowly along the wall. All he had to do was get to the door and sneak down the hall and he would surely be the winner. And when he was, he would get his revenge on these stupid jocks.
***************

Jason didn't know what was going on. One minute he was falling, the next he was in some sort of soft, smooth pile of fabric. It was moving. And a hand kept popping in and out of view.

He reasoned that he must be in the folds of one of the jock's shorts. He could feel the jock's dick swaying and bouncing in it's cloth prison and knocking up against him over and over again. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew it wouldn't end well. He would probably end up dropped or squashed or eaten. Why the hell did he agree to this? If he won, he promised himself he would let the others go, too. Even Andrew.

A cold breeze blew in. Too cold to be from outside, being so close to summer and all. Jason pushed the folds aside to see a large metallic picture in front of him. A beer can. The jock was rummaging through the refrigerator. Jason had made it to the kitchen! There was no way he would lose now.

This next part would be a risk, and he could take it, or he could stay where he was and risk being exposed. The jock wound up deciding for him with a simple scratch of his crotch. Jason fell from the folds of the shorts and just barely grabbed onto the shelf, dangling from it in front of the beer can. The jock's hand descended from above, wrapped around the beer, and pulled it forward, pushing Jason off the shelf.

He fell down past a couple shelves. If he didn't do anything, he would be splattered against the bottom of the fridge. He reached out, grabbed onto the final shelf, slipped off and slammed against the bottom. He was alive. In pain, but alive.

The jock noticed none of this. He took his beer, gave his crotch another scratch and shut the fridge, Jason still inside.




They came like a stampede. Dozens of them. Hungry, powerful, horny jocks.

Toby had woken up in the middle of the couch at only an inch tall, just like the others. Well, he hoped just like the others. He wouldn't have put it past one of his friends to cheat the others out of a fair chance. Though, he couldn't be that mad. They had given him a handicap after all, him being the closest to the kitchen. He just had to make his way down the couch and across the floor and he would be in the kitchen.

That was before the jocks came. Now he had to do all that while avoiding a giant frenzy of feet, asses, hands, and mouths. When the first rush of them came by, Toby tried to hide himself in the chasm between the couch cushions, but the jocks had swarmed around suitable sitting spaces within seconds. WHAM. A jock slammed down to the left. WHAM. One to the right. One final ass was about to hit the couch hard...

WHAM. The jock landed right next to Toby, sparing him from a death as a stain under the jock's ass. He wasn't safe, however. The impact of the jock sitting down so close to him sent a huge gush of air out, and him along with it! He was flying through the air!

He landed in a big pile of some sort of white goop. He couldn't quite tell what it was, but he was intact. That was all that mattered. Then he started to move.

A jock was taking some dip on a chip. Little did he know he had a one-inch-tall man riding along. He raised the chip to his mouth, took a bite, and swallowed. He was about to finish off a chip when he felt something in his throat. It was a sort of tickle, then got stronger. He started to choke.

A bunch of the others rushed to his side to help him out, slapping him on the back or trying to give him the Heimlich maneuver. One came over, already drunk, and tilted the jock's head back and poured the rest of his beer down the jock's throat. He swallowed.

"You okay, man?" asked one of them.

"*cough* I think so. Must've gone down the wrong pipe." He coughed again and guzzled some more beer.
****************

Brad was sprawled out on his bed in a relaxed pose. He wasn't at all worried about the contest. In fact, he hadn't moved an inch since he shrunk, but he knew he would win. Then the others would be his. His tiny little slaves...

The door opened and a single jock walked in. He was looking right at Brad.

"Dude, you really went through with it, huh?" said the jock, striding over to the bed.

"Heheh, I did." Brad chuckeld, "But now that you're here, I can grow back. Grab the cup up on the shelf over there. See? Behind the beer cans?" The jock rummaged through the empty cans and produced a plastic cup with a bit of the red liquid in it. It was Brad's master plan.

He had successfully shrunken down the others and convinced them to participate in his little contest. Then once they had all shrunk, he would get one of his friends to get his stash of the regrowing potion and grow back to his normal size before any of his friends could even reach the kitchen.

"Alright, man. Just let me get a sip and I'll grow back to normal."

The jock looked back and forth between the cup and his tiny friend, looking like he was trying to decide about something. His face broke into a smirk and he downed the entire cup.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" Brad was furious with his friend.

"Haha, don't know if you ever realized, Brad, but something happened when you made me test this stuff. Remember that? You wanted to see if it would have any effect on a full grown person. Well, it did. Take a look." The jock flexed a bicep until it reached its peak. As Brad watched, the peak grew larger and larger. His bicep was growing! No, it was more than that. Everywhere, his jock buddy's muscles were growing and expanding. "It's like a fuckin' steroid! I love it!"

The jock reached down for his little friend. "And it comes with an interesting side effect. It makes you horny as all hell." Brad could tell. The jock's shorts were tented. "And since I've got some power over you now, Brad, there's something I would like you to do." He lifted Brad up and opened his shorts. Down below, Brad saw the jock's thick, pulsing dick already dribbling some precum. It was also being affected by the drink, growing longer and thicker. The jock dropped Brad down into his underwear and let his shorts close. "Get to work buddy!"
****************

The jock who had been choking was pressed up against the kitchen wall, trying to keep his balance. He had definitely had way to much to drink and was now trying to keep himself conscious. No, he finally decided, it was no use, he was going to pass out. But not without one last word from his stomach. He coughed and sagged to the floor, then threw up on the floor and passed out.

In his barf, Toby lay stationary on the floor. He was so close to the finish line, the bottle of red stuff, but he had been through enough. Nearly sat on by a jock, nearly digested by a jock. He just wanted to go back to normal life and forget it ever happened. He wanted that bottle, but he didn't have the strength for it. He rolled under the counter to hide and passed out.
****************

Brad was covered in cum. It had taken three sessions with the giant cock before his jock friend had finally gotten tired. Three loads of cum shot right into his face. He didn't even think it was possible.

Ugh, he didn't even want to think about it. Rubbing the shaft of his friend's cock, massaging the cockhead until he came. After that, the jock had made him lick his cock clean. And the jock's dick had been growing all the while. He was now trapped in the briefs of a sleeping jock with a foot long dick. It was a nightmare.

But now he could escape. His friend was a deep sleeper, and after so many climaxes, he would be out for a long time.

Brad pushed his way out of the briefs, just barely managing to get around the waistband. He landed on his bed with a soft thump. He looked at the window. It was already dark out. There was no way he was going to catch up to the others now. He was going to wind up being a sex toy for one of those assholes and be forced to pleasure him for the rest of his life.

Wait a minute, that's the cup from before. And it still had a bit of the red stuff in it. Maybe just a drop, but it'd have to do. He licked it up and stepped out onto the bed. He could feel it, he was growing.

It wasn't much, just an extra couple inches taller, but it would give him an edge over the others. He jumped down off the bed and bolted out of the room.




It was nearing midnight and most of the jocks were either passed out, drunk beyond normal cognition, or headed home. It had been a huge, unforgettable party which, thanks to the generous amounts of alcohol, most of them would actually wind up forgetting. Undisturbed, however, was a small bottle of red liquid still sitting right in the center of the kitchen table. The chairs that had been occupied by Jason, Jack, Toby, and Brad that morning were now missing, knocked over, or broken, pretty much like the rest of the house.

One jock managed to summon the strength to stand and stumble over into the kitchen. Leaning on the fridge for support, he opened the door and puked on the picked-clean top shelf. On the bottom level of the fridge, a small form managed to roll out onto the floor. Jason was shivering as he tried to stand. He might've been frostbitten if he had stayed there much longer. He looked up at a large post in front of him. It was the kitchen table leg. He was so close! Ignoring his warmth-starved muscles, he started to climb.

On the other side of the table, another tiny, puke leaden figure was making his way up the table. Toby wasn't the best of climbers, but the many grooves and notched of made it easy enough. He had only woken up a few minutes ago, trying to forget the various nightmares of giant stomachs chasing after him and spraying him with digestive juices. But he was within reach of the potion. Once he got it, he would grow back and leave this place behind. Let the others deal with the giant jocks!

Speaking of the others, another member of the group was making his way down the hall. Brad emerged into the kitchen, sprinting toward the table. On either side of the table, he saw one of his friends scaling the table legs. Up above, he saw one of the guys' legs dangle over the top and then disappear. One of them had made it to the top, but he wasn't about to let them win. With three times the speed of the others, Brad bounded up the pole on his end of the table.

The final member of the party had made it to the top. After hours upon hours of sneaking around and avoiding the giant jocks (reeking of jock shit all the while), he had finally made it to the table and was the first of the four to start climbing. Now he was at the top and he was going to... wait, what's going on?
*********************

Almost simultaneously, a frost covered hand and a vomit covered hand reached the top of the table, followed by a hand larger than the other two. Brad, Jason, and Toby pulled themselves up, gave one glace at the others and bolted for the bottle... which they only just now realized was missing.

Jack was sitting in the middle where the bottle should have been, a horrified expression on his face. The others reached him.

"Jack!" Jason was the first to speak, "What the hell happened? Where's the bottle?"

Jack's response was his index finger, pointed upwards. In that instant, Brad realized who it was he saw reach the top of the table first.

It was Andrew, full sized and smirking down at them.

"Hey guys. Remember me? I'm the one you left in a box under the table. Thanks to that hapless musclehead over there," he indicated the one now passed out with his head in his puke puddle in the fridge, "knocking the box over, I got out."

"A-Andrew," Toby managed to stutter, unused to seeing his tiny sex toy at such a large scale, "Don't do anything you'll regret, now."

Andrew just laughed. "Regret? Remember who's in charge here, little man. I could end your lives on a whim." Boy, did that come back and bite him in the ass.

"But, you wouldn't make us your sex toys, right?"

"I have other plans for you guys. After weeks of you guys feeding me just your cum, I need some real food in my belly." He reached down and lifted Toby, Jason, and Jack into the air. Without even noticing their complaints and struggles, Andrew tossed them into his mouth, tossed his head back and swallowed the three of them whole. Brad watched from the table as the outline of his friends moved down Andrew's neck and disappeared. Andrew turned his attention to the remaining tiny man.

"W-what are you going to do to me?"

"Well, you're too big to swallow, so I think you'll come home with me."

"What!?"

"Remember who it was who got me to drink that stuff, Brad? Remember who got to keep me on the first day, Brad? Remember who put me up as a sex toy prize, BRAD? I think it'll serve you well to start serving me from now on." Andrew picked up Brad and, taking clothes from the passed out jocks, got dressed. "Have fun in there, buddy." He opened his shorts and dropped the tiny man into his underwear.

Andrew happily walked out the door of Brad's house. Patting his belly and the tiny struggling bulge in his shorts, he said, "Good game, guys. Good game."