Alex, exploring Oxford with his eccentric math professor, finds himself lost, confused, and changed by his brush with the mysterious world he stumbles into.
But he was also the only person he’d spotted since he woke up. In his sleep addled state, the site of the adorable blond had distracted him just long enough that he was already jogging after him before he realized he hadn’t called out or anything.
“Hey! Hey!” he shouted. “Wait up!”
The boy turned his head for the briefest of moments, seemed to barely notice him, and then looked at the phone in his hand. “Shite! No time, mate,” he said, and sprinted ahead.
“Oh, come on!” Alex groused. The guy could have at least slowed down. He was fast, despite his shoes, and Alex lost ground as he tried to avoid tree roots and rocks and underbrush. Blonde boy just leapt over them like they weren’t there. Must be into track or something. Maybe parkour.
When he finally broke the tree line after a particularly annoying thorny bush blocked his way, the boy was gone—but it was obvious where he’d gone. A large garden wall, probably ten feet high and covered in ivy, blocked his way. It looked old, and thick roots entwined with the ivy and other leafy stuff all over. And there was a door just swinging shut ..
“Shit!” If he sprinted, he might just manage to catch the door before it closed. The wall stretched for some distance in either direction, but no other obvious entrances were visible. Probably one of the colleges. The whole area was a regular maze of fenced in little enclaves, and it had made navigation difficult for Alex the previous day. But at least once he got inside, someone would be there to help him get un-lost.
Made it! He just got his hand round the handle and swung it wide, jumping through the door before he really thought about it.
“Ouch,” he said. It was dim where he was, between the late afternoon sun and the high garden walls, but he had also missed the steps down from the garden wall door. He rolled up to his knees and stood, feeling woozy. The fall had knocked the wind out of his sails, for sure. He’d scraped his knee pretty good and torn his pant leg, but he had had worse. But the boy was nowhere in sight.
where he found himself was less of a garden and more of a corridor between other walled areas, he guessed. About twenty feet ahead, some large stone edifice loomed, and to his right and left, he saw large wrought iron gates separating this access path from the rest of the garden.
Looked like this area might have been marked off for construction, because it was dug into the earth a good five or six feet below what should have been the surface. In fact, he spotted a small doorway that probably led to a basement or something.
It must have been an old building, back when people were shorter, because the door only came up to his waist. And yet it seemed a perfectly ordinary door, just smaller. It would be a tight fit, even though Alex was not particular big or brawny. He knocked a few times, tried shouting, but no answers came. He tried the gates, but they were locked.
Fine, the door it was. And luckily, it was unlocked, so he squeezed through.
The low ceiling meant he had to crawl, but inside it seemed surprisingly roomy otherwise. For a moment he found himself imagining this as a hobbit’s home. And when he turned the corner of the title hallway, he spotted some pint sized furniture. It was laid out like a small parlor, with a few chairs and a table, a small cupboard, a bucolic painting on the wall, and not much else.
“What the hell?” He said aloud. Was this some specially constructed room for a little person? A kids’ playroom converted from an old root cellar? Where the hell had hoody-boy gone?
And then he spotted an even smaller door, perhaps 8 inches high, next to the cupboard.
“What a strange place,” he said. “There has to be some way out. Hello? Anyone?”
As he turned he bumped the little table, and that’s when he noticed it wasn’t empty.
Alex looked at the bottle before him with an incredulous look on his face.
Drink me was printed in near script on the sticker on the bottle.
Studiously ignoring the bottle, he rummaged through the contents of the small cupboard, which seemed to only have teaspoons, saucers, cups, and a single butter knife. There seemed too many tea things for the small room where the only table had a single chair. And where was the tea pot? The hall he had landed in had no other doors in it, nothing at all other than this small room. He even knocked on the walls and felt around for hidden doors, but no love.
Well, there just weren’t a lot of options, and he pocketed the butter knife, just in case. Finally, he sat down on the floor by the pint size table and looked, with much trepidation, at the bottle. Finally, he grabbed a teaspoon, and wiped it with the edge of his shirt.
“Drink me indeed,” he said. “I’m not about to guzzle a weird potion,” he thought. But he figured he might as well taste it, to see if it was safe. Opening the stopper, he poured a teaspoon full, and then tentatively tasted it with the tip of his tongue.
An almost orgasmic sensation ripped up his tongue and made him go slack-jawed, and for a moment he thought he had creamed his pants.
“Whoa,” he said, as he reached up to grab the bottle again. Huh, the table was taller than he thought, and… yeah. That’s when he clued in.
I mean, you’d think a guy might notice himself shrinking from about 5’9” to about 5’, but it was only when he stood fully upright and realized that the child sized table and chairs looked almost normal sized that he finally clued in. Somehow his clothing—and the bread knife—stayed proportionally sized for him, but he had definitely shrunk.
Another teaspoon or two had him nearer to three feet tall. Smiling with the mental victory, he estimated another half teaspoon would put him about the right size for that little door by the cupboard. Not an utter fool, he wisely stuck the now oversized bottle into his jacket and swallowed it…
Shit, he was a little offensive his dosage. The tiny 8-inch door loomed above him, which meant he was probably no more than six inches tall.
I do hope there is some way to reverse this, he thought. If only he could find his way out, he would talk to the Professor. He seemed to know everyone in this sleepy town.
But for now, his only lead was the blond boy he had followed down here, and he’d already lost a bunch of time. He reached for the handle.
“You want in, you need to pay the toll, little man,” boomed a voice that seemed to come from the door itself.
“Okayyy…what’s the toll?” He had a couple pounds and some change in his pocket.
“Hmmm. Let’s call it one pound.”
“Done,” Alex said, pulling out a coin. “Where do I—”
“Hah. Not that kind of pounds, skinny,” the voice chuckled.
He felt what fat and muscle he possessed siphoned from him, almost like he was pissing after a night drinking, or having horrible diarrhea. It was unpleasant and painful, but at least it was fast. And at the end of it, he could barely stand.
“Shit! You could have killed me!” Alex gasped.
“Quite whining and go in. You’ll never catch him at this rate.”
And then the door opened, and having few options, Alex went in, quickly assessing the damage as he stumbled through the talking door into a vast walled garden.
Fuck, normally, Alex was 5’9”, and about 150 pounds. He had just lost the equivalent of maybe 60 pounds, and looked emaciated and sickly. He felt incredibly weak, but trudged on.
And the door behind him swung shut.
The garden was vast and lush, a proper English garden, most likely, but the times flowerbeds looked like forests of unruly grotesque trees from Alex’s current 7-inch height.
“First things first,” he muttered. “I have got to get back some size or I will never catch up.”
“I feel ya,” a thin and sad voice said somewhere off to his right. “Mind you, I just need some water and a little food, and I’ll be okay. Not sure that would work on you.”
Alex peered around, inadvertently doing a comic double take as he realized it was a dandelion. It dropped a bit, it looked a little shriveled, and the voice was hoarse. And it was talking.
“Yes, it’s me,” the dandelion said. “I mean, you could ignore me, I suppose, I’m used to it.” Alex could see that he hadn’t been watered as much as the strong, sturdy flowers a little distance off, but the poor thing was still only a little taller than Alex was. And the ground at its root was dry.
“I am sorry, but I don’t know how to help you,” Alex said.
“Hmm. Well, I could probably help you, if you helped me,” it said. “I could use some water and food, which is over there, but, well, I’m not really equipped to go get it, am I?”
It made little sense, but the flower seemed earnest. So Alex found himself hiking across the patch of knee high grass to the wall where he found an enormous watering can and a small container of dried plant food, with a scoop next to it. He might be able to drag the plant food over, but the water jug was probably three times his weight. He approached it, leaned in, and shoved with all his might… and the thing shifted a fraction of an inch.
“Sorry,” he told the dandelion. “I’m just too weak to push that thing.”
“It is much larger than you. Shame it wasn’t closer to your size,” the plant said. “Guess I’ll just sit here quietly and die some more.”
Wait a minute, Alex thought. I still have that shrinking potion!
Sure enough, a drop of that stuff had the containers down to much more manageable sizes—though he was super careful to avoid getting any on himself. He couldn’t afford to lose any more size!
“Here,” he said, and sprinkled some plant food in the container and stirred it.
“A bit more, please?” The dandelion meekly requested, and Alex obliged with a heaping scoop, stirred it, and poured some on the dandelion’s roots . It made sense it would probably take more now that the watering can was tiny like him.
“Whoa! Whoa!” it yelled. “That’s plenty, thank you! ahhhhhhh.” It said. You could almost see it gain strength and vitality.
“Glad to help,” Alex said. “But do you have any idea how I could stop being so tiny? I’m usually a lot bigger.”
“Well, you could try this stuff, it’s working well enough for me,” the dandelion replied.
“But I’m a guy, not a flower,” Alex whined.
“Does that thing say it’s just for plants?”
Alex opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it. Instead he read the label.
“Grow-max for healthy growth, TM. Apply two scoops to one gallon and then apply to roots to ensure robust and vital growth.”
“See? Just stand here next to me, and water yourself. Maybe take off the shoes, dig your feet in nice and good, and have a quick snack.”
At least he wasn’t drinking plant food, but he certainly felt weirdly compelled to follow the dandelions advice.
Almost immediately, he felt the blood pounding in his ears, and a tingling sensation spread from his toes to the tips of his hair. His feet grew larger, his toes longer, then his calves fattened to a healthy size from sticks. His thighs widened, his butt swelled, and his hips fleshed out. His torso thickened, as did his arms, and he could feel himself stretching taller and taller. His hair, once short and shaggy, grew steadily until it reached his chin and tickled the back of his neck. Finally, his groin stirred and he felt uncomfortably compressed. He quickly adjusted himself only to find his dick sticking out over his waistband, looking for all the world like it was headed for his navel. A bubble of pre formed at the tip, as he was rock hard by the time the sensation stopped. He panted, near to release, but suddenly felt awkward.
“Oh, very nice,” the dandelion said. “Pity you’ve run out. I imagine you used to be much taller, but I think you look quite nice. That’s a very sizable stamen you have!”
Embarrassed, Alex realized he was gripping his oversized tool in his hand, above his waistband, and his hand didn’t cover it all. His dick had to be at least 10 inches long! Well, it would be if he were his normal size, but he wasn’t much more than two or three times as tall as the dandelion, which probably put him at 20-22 inches, at a guess. But he felt better—not just no longer weak, but strong, in a way he hadn’t felt before. He gazed in surprise as his even his forearms seemed solidly muscled. Fuck, he was hot! His abs were solid, his arms bulged nicely, he had the beginnings of a proper ass, and his clothing was tight in all the right places. But he was still a shrimp….with a huge dick, relative to his size.
“If you feel the need, I’ll love some of your nectar,” the dandelion said, a little huskily. “It’s surprisingly good for us, and a rare treat. Think of it as a thank you?”
“Sure, why waste it?” Alex said.
And so Alex found himself at not quite two feet tall, looking like a pint size underwear model, jerking his newly grown meat onto a grateful dandelion.
Suddenly remembering he was still lost—and relatively tiny—Alex tucked himself back into his pants, zipped, and looked expectantly at the dandelion.
“Oh, my! I’d nearly forgotten. You were chasing the fellow in white, right?”
“Yes, please,” Alex said.
“He went that-a-way,” the dandelion said.
“Ummm” Alex said, hesitantly. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell where you’re pointing.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. Can you see the hydrangea bush further along?”
“Well, he went past that and I believe to the right, but you’ll want to ask the hydrangea just in case.”
“Got it, thank you!”
“And avoid the tulips!” the dandelion shouted after him. “Honestly, those things are just awful sluts.”
Even at his slightly larger size, it still took a minute or two to jog the distance to the end of the row. The little slate path—well, little to a normal sized human being, but rather a lot more like small patios at his size—meandered next to neatly arranged flower beds where the flowers seemed to stand in pouty, silent judgement.
Guess they’re not as talkative as the dandelion, he thought. God what a ridiculous thing to think.
Finally Alex reached the hydrangea, a round bush of a plant with large, fat blossoms.
“You’ll never catch him, you know,” the bush said in a gravelly voice. It reminded him more than a little of a British Harvey Fierstein. “Not with those little legs.”
“Which way, please?”
“Oh, off to your right, toward the hedge maze. You’ll want to be a bit larger to have any chance of getting his attention, though, won’t you? I mean, it looks like the dandelion helped you a bit, but you’re still rather tiny.”
He sighed. The talking bush was right.
“True,” Alex said. “Any ideas on that front?”
“There are some mushrooms over by that stone to your left,” it said. “Who knows?”
“Who indeed. Thanks,” Alex said, hoping this plant was as helpful as the dandelion. Sure enough, sat in the shade in a little alcove was a mossy rock, and at its feet were several mushrooms of various shapes and colors.
But which one? He thought. It wouldn’t do to get a poisonous one by mistake.
“Well, you’ve got a little conundrum there,” a silky voice purred at him. He looked round for the next talking plant, but spotted nothing.
“Hello? Who said that?”
“Me, my dear, but you shan’t see much of me yet. What are you looking for?”
“Apparently one of these will make me bigger?”
“True,” the mystery voice said. “Each of them will make you bigger, except one. But only one of them will have an effect—you’re stuck with the results. As I said,” the voice chuckled mischievously, “a conundrum.”
“Wait, so any of these will make me bigger, but I can only eat one of them and then the others won’t have any effect?”
“And one of them will not make me bigger.”
“Do you know which one is which.”
“So? Will you help me?”
“I am helping. I just gave you loads of information, at no charge.”
Oh, so he wanted money.
“Don’t suppose you want a couple pounds,” he said, then hastily added “—in coin, I mean.”
“Darling, please. That’s not how favors work. But if you promise me a favor later—and don’t worry, it won’t harm you—then I’ll help you now.”
“What kind of favor?” Alex asked suspiciously. “Nothing sick or harmful.”
“How about… something only you can give?”
“Yeah, okay, in exchange for point me at the right mushroom to get bigger.”
“Deal. Now, see those mushrooms?”
“There’s seven of them there. Pick any you like. All of them make you bigger.”
“Which one’s the one that doesn’t?”
“The white one on the end. It doesn’t make you bigger. It makes you much bigger.”
“How much bigger are we talking? Because I used to be about three and half times this big.”
“Really. How interesting. Can’t wait to see what happens to you.”
Which one to try? He’d only get one shot. He wasn’t sure whether to go for the white one and “much” bigger, or the grayish, yellowish, pinkish, or orange-ish ones.
He opted for pink, because it was the tallest of the odd little mushrooms. He reached for it and—
“Oooh. Very good choice, I think. Depends what you’re into, of course.”
Huh. His hand hovered over the grayish ones. “Your call.” The orange? “Sure, why not?” He impulsively grabbed the orange one.
“And these aren’t poisonous, right?”
“I never said that. You didn’t ask that.”
“….No, of course not. But while you dilly-dally with dandelions and daisies—“ the voice said, “the boy in white continues apace.”
“Fine,” Alex said. In for a penny… he grabbed the yellowish one, brushed a bit of dirt off it, and took a small bite.
It was delicious, and made him think of summer evenings and sunsets. Quiet strolls past the mountains and a nice cocktail when you got back.
He didn’t notice the effects at first…
“See, you’re getting bigger already,” the voice said. “Lucky, that’s probably the best one.”
Looking down, Alex saw his legs stretch; he saw his feet lengthen. Shit, he’d never retrieved his shoes! They’d never fit now, he had to be up to whatever the pint-size equivalent of a 16 or 17 by now. Looking at his hand, his finger seemed to pull outward a bit…and then his arms.
But it seemed he was stretching almost like taffy. He chuckled dreamily as his legs continued to lengthen leaving his pants looking like capris. He wobbled a bit as he stood, and guessed he had gained several inches from his current height, but if he were still 5’9, he’d have gained nearly a foot in height. He looked lanky and stretched, with his long torso sporting a handful of abs below his shirt. He felt like an NBA star.
“I’d say you’re a good meter tall now, skinny.”
“Well, you could have another bite of that one,” the voice said. “Then you’d at least be tall enough.”
“Tall enough for what?”
“To lope along after him, dummy. Longer legs means longer strides.”
Shit, he was right about that. Alex took another nibble.
Again, he felt stretched, and then he felt something shift, and then something was touching his left knee inside his pants.
“Oh, my. You may want some help with that.”
Oh my god, Alex realized. That’s my dick in there, stretched all out like that.
“Oh, right!” Alex loped off down the path, feel really weird and stretched. His oversized feet and long, skinny legs, however, made jogging down the path considerably less tiresome—though his stretched-out dick was bouncing around, too. He wasn’t aroused, but it was only a matter of time. He tried not to think of the extraordinary length he must have, because he definitely felt it bouncing around, soft, by his knee. The sheer absurdity of his situation was finally sinking in. He’d been carried along mostly by adrenaline and curiosity so far, but the weirdness was just increasing.
Still, nothing for it but to keep going. The sexy boy in the white hoody was somewhere ahead, and with him, hopefully some answers. Finally, he reached the end of the path, which reached an enormous hedge. Well, it looked enormous enough but he was also only about 3 feet tall, so maybe….maybe 15 feet tall? Impractically tall, and thick down to the ground as well. Without thinking, he raced in—only to discover he was in a hedge maze.
He doggedly ran on, guessing he was roughly following the leftmost path, shouting “hello” and “hoody guy” and “anyone?” over and over until he was hoarse—and hopelessly lost. Even more annoying, all the jostling was giving his extra-long dick ideas.
“Fuck it,” Alex said, plopping down. “This is utterly ridiculous, all of it.”
“That’s what I always say,” said a smallish voice. “It’s quite overwhelming for me, of course, but you’re a bloody giant, so I guess you just have to deal with more of it. Proportionally speaking, of course. Heh.” said the voice. “That’s why I just kind of chill, no sense worrying, right?”
Ugh. Sounded like stoner talk to him—something he had never found interesting.
“How’s it hanging?”
Increasingly stiff, increasingly hard, and down my left pants leg, Alex thought, annoyed. Where was the fellow?
“Oh, many, you keep looking right past me. You’re so huge, you can’t even see me, man,” the voice said. Perplexed, Alex continued to look around, and finally found a handful of mushrooms. On the largest one sat a fat caterpillar.
“There you go, man. Found me dude!”
“What the hell?
“Heh, yeah, I’m a caterpillar. Weird, huh?”
“Um, I guess. Hey you haven’t seen a guy in a white hoody run past have you?”
“Just woke up, sorry man.”
“Shit” Alex said, sitting down.
“Hey man, idea—hear me out! you should be, like, smaller.”
“Or bigger,” I replied. “But I don’t want to shrink more.”
“I get it. I meant if you want to join me for a bit, man. This here is a primo crop of mushrooms.”