Running down the hall, Brendan looked up at the phone above him on the hall table. He pulled on the cord causing the phone to crash to the floor, and dialed his neighbor for help. He figured he was shrinking too fast for 911, which would probably take a half hour to get out to his house.
"Hello, Mr. Murphy?" Brendan shouted desperately into the phone.
"Who is this?" a young male voice. It had to be his neighbor's son Alex.
"Alex? It's Brendan from next door. Something weird happened in our basement, some weird gas, and now I'm shrinking. I need help fast. Can your dad come over right now?"
"Dad's not home, but I'll be right over, Brendan," he said hanging up the receiver with a loud click.
Brendan sighed. Where Jack Murphy was the neighborhood Samaritan that people could count on, his son Alex had a mean streak and was more likely to bully him. Brendan groaned as the weight of the receiver grew too great for him to bear and he dropped it. His tent-like shirt finally slid from his shoulder leaving him a tiny naked figure next to an impossibly large phone.
Brendan heard the sound of the back door slamming, and thunderous footsteps coming closer. Brendan stared up there stood Alex wearing only his sneakers, nylon shorts, and an old t-shirt with the bottom torn off to expose Alex's midriff. His washboard abs reminded Brendan of the furrows in his grandfather's farm's fresh ploughed fields.
Alex gazed down on Brendan with his eyes gleaming, and he began to smile. Brendan couldn't help notice Alex's cock stirring in the nylon shorts. As Alex's cock rose and tented his shorts, it forced the opening of his shorts' legs to open to show his giant cock and balls through the thin mesh liner. Alex stooped and cupped his hands.
Before Brendan could run or speak, he was trapped in Alex's sweaty palms...