"No," he managed.
"Try and fight it, it'll just make things more fun for me. How old are you, Officer Helpless."
"38," he replied.
"Oh yeah? Interesting." He blew a puff of smoke over Henry's face. His arms and legs tingled even more. His chest and armpits tickled. "You look younger to me. Quite a bit younger."
The man wrapped a big arm around him and guided him back toward the side of the pickup truck. "Take a look in the mirror."
Henry allowed himself to be guided toward the side view mirror. He felt more like a puppet outside his body. Like he was walking on strings. He leaned down, removed his motorcycle helmet and sunglasses and gasped. A fresh-faced young twenty-something version of himself stared back. All the lines and wrinkles that had begun to set in on his face were gone. The gray around his temples had turned back to a rich, sandy brown.
The man reached down and squeezed his butt. "You're firm, young man. But you don't look old enough to be an officer anymore."
Henry's dick strained against the fabric of his crotch. "Hey man! What are you doing to me?" Even his voice sounded young! The timbre so much smoother.
"Making you younger. Making you more fun. I'd say you look about 24 years old. Magic cigar smoke will do that to you." The man took a long drag, grabbed Henry by the shoulder and blew even more smoke in his face.
Henry coughed again. The world started spinning. His uniform started to feel strange, uncomfortably big. The pants sagging just slightly.
"22 . . . 21 . . . 20 years old now. not even old enough to have beer." The man laughed.
Henry glanced up--UP--at the big man in fear and confusion. He tugged his pants. He wheeled around to see himself in the mirror again. It was true. He was even younger now. He looked like a college frat boy at a Halloween party, dressed in an ill-fitting state trooper's uniform. "Come on, man! Cut it out!" he pleaded. "Make me a man again!" His stubble was fading. The collar of his shirt was revealing more of his chest. He tugged at his belt. Even his shoes and socks felt a little roomier.
"Why should I make you a man again?" the big man chuckled. "Plead your case."
Hendry struggled for an answer, all the while trying desperately to ignore his throbbing young dick. Feeling his eyes lustfully looking the big fat hairy man up and down. "I . . . I . . . I'll let you get off with a warning. I won't give you a ticket."
The man let out a booming laugh. "Oh I'm not so concerned about getting a ticket from you, kid!"
"I . . . c'mon please! I'll do whatever you want! I can't go back to the station like this! Nobody'll believe me."
"Oh that's cute. You think you're going back?" He puffed out another cloud of magic smoke.
Henry's head spun. A haze of horniness swept across his body. His muscles tickled and tingled. The man grew bigger, taller . . . no he was shrinking. Getting scrawnier. His hand went to his face, and he felt his five-o-clock shadow vanishing, leaving behind a smooth teenage cheek. "Hey!" his voice climbed higher. "No!" he yelped. His pants sagged, but his erection held them up.
"You're not going anywhere. You're barely even old enough to drive." He laughed louder. "You're only sixteen years old!"
"No!" Henry's pants slipped down his thights as he once again rushed to the mirror, his adult-sized shoes flopping a little too much. He indeed looked like a high-schooler now. Completely smooth. Even his chest hair had faded. "You don't do this to me! Please, I want to be a man again!"
"Oh, it won't be so bad being young." The man sucked on his cigar, stooped down. Put one hand on Henry's shoulder. "You look like you could use a hug."
Hendry's heart started beating a mile a minute. Even reduced from a grown man to a sixteen year old boy, nothing was more humiliating than the fact that he desperately wanted to give this big man a hug. To feel his warm body against his.
"Go ahead," the rugged bearish man smiled, widened his arms. "It's okay."
"Oh man, oh man," Henry whispered. He collapsed into the big man's arms. He felt strong arms claspsed around him, pull him tight against his big soft ball gut. He clenched the man's muscular shoulders and breathed in his masculine scent of sweat and aftershave. He felt his beard tickling his cheek, as the man removed the cigar from his mouth and said, with a smoky whisper. "There you go. That's no so bad, is it, kid?"
"No sir," he whined.
He felt the big man's hands on his butt. The extra fabric of his pants bunching up, as his entire body was hoisted into the air. And once again everything felt light as a cloud. He could feel his arms and legs shrinking. The remaining traces of his body hair tickling away into nothing, as the big man whispered. "15, 14, 13 . . ." He was fitting so readily, so easily, so perfectly against the man's big Dad body. "There we go," he whispered.
Henry's shoes slipped away from his feet and clomped onto the pavement. The man set him down on the ground, and his pants and belt flumped around his ankles. His shirt was dangling past his crotch, and his underwear had snagged on his pathetic peg of a hardon. "You're 12 years old now," the man said. "Just a boy." The man tousled his hair. He grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back toward the mirror. A round, smooth, fresh-faced, blond-haired sixth-grader looked back. His eyes lost, confused, and utterly devoid of power. "I can't believe this is happening," his voice came out high and scratchy, he sounded like a total child.
Another puff of smoke drifted down over him. Henry coughed, a high, childish cough and watched in the mirror as he shrank even more, dropoping in height. Getting scrawnier. The already baggy uniform sagging more and more. He was 11, 10, 9, 8 years old again. Eye level with the side-view mirror.
The big man--the big Dad--bent down and fished through Henry's belt. He grabbed the set of handcuffs and clanked them around Henry's wrists. Henry didn't even try to protest. Didn't try to run or escape. He felt he couldn't. He felt . . .
"Say it," the man said. "Go ahead. It's okay. I know how you feel."
"I want to be a good boy for Daddy," Henry said. his face burned red as a cherry tomato. Tears streamed down his cheek, but Dad's touch felt electric as he scooped him up in his arms, leaving his pants and underwear in a pile on the pavement.
"You're Daddy's little prisoner now. Nothing you can do about it." The big man buckled little Hendry in on the passenger seat and together, they drove home.