"So I said to him," said Clare to Ashley the following morning, "if you don't turn me around on this bed and fuck me like it's your last night on Earth, I'm going out to the club to find someone who will."
"No!" said Ashley dramatically. "You did not say that to him!"
"Sure did," said Clare nonchalantly. "Anyway, what's he gonna do? Leave me? Haha, please. The old bastard's wrapped around my little finger. And it wouldn't even matter if he was the regional manager of a weapons manufacturer instead of Fizzy...it wouldn't matter how much power he seemed to have in the outside world. Because I know. I know who really calls the shots."
"Damn!" said Ashley, shaking her head in admiration. "You just lay down the law, don't you?"
"It's what I do," said Clare, flipping her long red hair. "Especially when I have to because I have subpar, incompetent employees like Timmy who are always..." and she was about to say "late" because, as usual, she had been eyeing the clock, waiting until it ticked past nine so she could berate Timothy for showing up his usual five or ten minutes late. But she hadn't finished her sentence this morning, because, right at the stroke of nine, in walked Timothy in a fresh-pressed shirt, beaming at the two women.
"Morning, Ashley! G'morning, boss!" he said brightly as he headed over to his desk. Clare and Ashley stared after him.
"Wellll!" said Clare after a few moments, "on time this morning, I see! Good on you, Springer!"
"Thanks!" said Timothy, smiling widely. "I got some good sleep last night."
"Glad to hear it," said Clare, secretly a bit disappointed that she couldn't begin the day belittling him. Ashley, however, wasn't really listening to the conversation. She was staring hard at Timothy.
"I finally got that batch right last night," Timothy said to Clare. "It took me almost until midnight, but I finally got it."
"I appreciate the dedication, Springer," said Clare. "Just, try and see if we can keep that up today, ok?"
"You got it, boss," said Timothy happily. He had turned to devote his attention to a stack of papers on his desk when he felt Ashley's presence directly behind him. He turned in his chair and looked up from his seating position. Ashley was standing directly in front of him, looking down at his body with a strange look on her face.
"Uh, hi Ashley," said Timothy. "Anything wrong?" He felt a little twinge in his brain that seemed to reverberate down into his chest. He had shrunk, yes, but surely she couldn't tell...? And yet there she was, staring at him like that. His heart started to beat in his chest faster and faster with excitement.
"No, nothing's wrong," said Ashley as she continued to stare down at him curiously. "Nothing's...wrong..." and her voice trailed off as her eyes still studying him.
"Well, ok then," said Timothy, and turned back to the stack of papers. Ashley stood rooted to her spot for another moment or two, and then she snapped her fingers as if she had just remembered something.
"Oh, right! I almost forgot. Timmy, could you show me again how much phosphoric acid you were using yesterday? I know it was the wrong amount but I was just curious what the amount was...I actually thought it made the batch taste a little...tropical or something. Might be an interesting idea to pitch at the next board meeting for a new flavor."
"Uhhhh, sure," said Timothy, caught off guard that Ashley thought one of his mistakes could actually prove useful. He stood up and made to move towards the chemical shelf.
"Aha!" cried Ashley as soon as he'd stood up. "I knew it!"
"Knew...knew what, Ashley?" How could she have caught on so quickly? His heart was racing and he could already feel the blood descending into his cock.
"You shrunk!" she blurted out. "You're no taller than I am!" And she was right — standing there next to each other, their eyes were almost exactly even. And...could it be...Ashley seemed like she might actually be half an inch taller. Her loud voice had caught Clare's attention, who immediately walked over to investigate.
"Holy...shit!" she exclaimed. "Ashley! You're right! He's shrunk!!" In her three-inch heels, Clare's head rose two inches above Timothy's. He was looking straight forward into the top of her mouth. Shivers of pleasure ran down his spine as he soaked up the presence of his two female co-workers, one a hair taller than him already, and the other already looking down on him.
"I uh...I, don't know, how...that's possible," he said haltingly in response. He wasn't going to tell them about what had happened last night; he wanted it all to happen organically.
"Well I don't know either — but it happened!" said Clare with great energy. She seemed to be enjoying this new development. She sidled up her body close to Timothy's and stood up to her full height, measuring how high his head came up to her. "Look at this!" she said excitedly to Ashley, "he only comes up to my eyes! Timmy! You...you lost like a couple inches at least!"
Timothy was about to form some kind of halfhearted, concocted response, when Ashely interrupted. "Or," she said impressively, "he was always this short, and we're just now noticing it."
"B-but...no, that's just...no!" said Timothy, confused at her faulty reasoning. "That's not true!"
"Says who?" said Ashley, smiling mischievously, "the short guy?" Timothy felt a tiny little lurch in his posture. Was that him shrinking again? His blood was pounding in his ears from arousal as he imagined what it was going to be like to get even smaller in front of them. But Ashley wasn't finished.