This choice: You shrink somewhere else. • Go Back... Steven’s Shrinking Misfortune
You pushed Joe against the wall, savoring the way his scrawny frame trembled under your grip. His glasses slid down his nose, and his breath hitched as your fist connected with his face.
“Pathetic”
You smirked, releasing him with a shove. "Consider that an IOU, nerd. Next time, I’ll cash in with interest."
Joe stumbled but didn’t fall. Instead, he wiped his lip, smearing a thin line of blood across his knuckles. His expression twisted into something you didn’t expect—not fear, but amusement.
"You have no idea what’s coming, do you?" he muttered, his voice low and weirdly confident.
You scoffed, turning away. "Yeah, yeah. Save the villain monologue for your D&D group."
But as you took a step, the world lurched. The hallway stretched impossibly long, the lockers beside you towering like skyscrapers. Your stomach dropped as your perspective shifted—downward.
"What the—?"
Your voice came out higher, weaker. The ground rushed up to meet you, and suddenly, Joe’s sneakers loomed in front of your face, scuffed and reeking of sweat.
“No. No way.”
You looked up—way up—to see Joe grinning down at you, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses.
"Guess the Goddess wasn’t kidding," he mused, crouching to get a better look.
You barely reached his knee.
Panic clawed at your chest. "What the hell did you do?!"
Joe chuckled, slipping off one of his shoes. The stench hit you like a truck—ripe, musky, the kind of smell that clung to gym bags left in the sun. He wiggled his socked toes right in front of your face, the fabric damp with sweat.
"Me? I didn’t do anything. But I did get a visit last night. Some glowing lady rambling about fairness and punishment." He smirked. "Turns out, she really doesn’t like bullies."
Your pulse pounded in your ears. This couldn’t be real. But the smell, the heat radiating off his foot, the way his toes flexed just inches from your face—it was all too vivid.
Joe peeled off his sock, revealing his bare foot. His toes were long, slightly crooked, the nails uneven from being chewed. The skin was pink and wrinkled from being trapped in his shoe all day, and the scent—god, the scent—was overwhelming.
He pressed his sole against your chest, pinning you to the floor. "You always liked pushing people around. How’s it feel being the little guy?"
You squirmed, but his foot held firm, the heat of his skin seeping through your shirt. His other foot nudged your side, sliding under you until you were cradled—trapped—between both.
Then, something worse.
A bulge formed in his jeans, straining against the fabric.
Joe’s face flushed. "Oh. Uh."
You stared. "Are you—?"
He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. "Shut up."
But you saw it. The way his breath hitched when you struggled under his feet. The way his toes curled against your body.
A sick realization settled in your gut.
He was enjoying this.
And worse?
You were completely at his mercy.
---
Next Options
[OPTION: Beg for mercy] – Maybe if you grovel, Joe will go easy on you. (Or maybe he’ll like it too much
[OPTION: Fight back] – You’re small, but you’re still Steven. Try to turn the tables.
[OPTION: Play along] – Lean into it. If he’s getting off on this, maybe you can use that to your advantage.
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