Matt slowly squeezed the shrunken Brett into his pocket and turned to head back to his yard.
"Stop it! Lemme go!" squeaked the tiny boy, as Matt strode confidently onto his property, holding the wand in one hand.
Matt chuckled at the tiny, squeaking voice. "You sound like a cartoon mouse..." he said, chuckling.
"I'm not a mouse! Lemme go!" came the responding squeak from his pocket.
Matt just shook his head and kept moving. It actually felt kind of good with the tiny motions against his buried, too-large cock. He looked around the late afternoon surroundings of his back yard. This wouldn't do ... he needed somewhere private to think this all out...
Fixing on an idea, the teen turned and headed for the old reservoir about a mile away. It was mostly run-down and used as a refuge for drug dealers, gay cruisers and other folk he'd normally not want to mix with.
...But, now, he had the wand...
With Brett's tiny squeaks still emmanating from his pocket, Matt went on his way, pondering briefly wishing for his pants to grow just a bit so they weren't so damn tight...