This story was written as a commission for an anonymous member of Fur Affinity. This continues the story originally introduced in my 100-word drabble, “A Little Oral Action” and the micro-fic, “A Little (More) Oral Action”. This is what happens next. The world-setting and the characters of Tigue, Carlisle, Chris, Stanhope, Brett, Sommer, Shane, and Anders are owned by myself.

A Little Group Action
©2013 Sylvan Scott

Both the wolf and his vulpine cohorts had been busy. The three of them must have visited every gay bar in town over the past week. Judging by the number of guys who’d come home with them, their charms had been nearly impossible to refuse. How many young, horny, arrogant guys could say “no” to a hung fox or ripped, toned wolf when offered a little oral action? Even the proudest with the staunchest defenses could be laid low by the promise of a “quickie”.
And after a few minutes with Carlisle, Chris, or Stanhope, the guy they’d lured into their clutches would have no defenses left.
Not every rendezvous had gone perfectly, though. They’d overestimated the dosage several times or mis-timed the administration of the antidote. As a result, nearly two dozen guys had gone “missing”:  either  lost at the bars where the trio hunted or misplaced between the carpet fibres of their shared home. It had happened right in this room a dozen times and, by the accounts of the three predators, at least as often out on their hunting grounds. A shadow filled the door, drawing everyone’s attention.
Carlisle entered, joining Chris, Stanhope, and their latest guest.
Tigue watched them with his paws pressed against the glass wall. Brett stood next to him while Sommer and Shane approached from behind. The latter two weren’t quite as inured to the sight as the tiger and the stag. The four of them had gotten to know each other fairly well over the last few days. Still, it was obvious that their relationship was nothing like what it would have been in the outside world. For one, sleeping amongst giant, rough curls of thin wood was not the sort of place they’d have ever hung out. For another, the diet of crumbled food pellets was hardly fare any of them would have indulged. They’d slept together, sure, but that was mostly out of boredom. From where they stood, their problems never seemed bigger nor their ability to handle them, smaller.
They watched as the two foxes eased a thick-barrelled badger onto the low couch by the curtained windows. The black-and-white-furred newcomer had a cock that hung nearly halfway to his knees, and that was probably why he’d been chosen. The three hunters seemed to prefer putting the spurs to the big guys. The two foxes were in the badger’s league, sexually, but not as tall or muscular. They were doing their best to make him feel at home.
“What’s his name?” Shane asked. His voice squeaked but only partly with emotion. The rest of the tiny sound was due to his altered vocal cords. It still sounded comparatively resonant to Tigue’s tiny ears but that was due to his own changes.
“Anders,” Brett said.
Tigue nodded. He’d overheard the badger give his name when Stanhope, the taller of the foxes, introduced him to Chris.
The glass barely vibrated as Brett slammed his fist into it. “Get out! Get outta here while you still can!” he shouted.
Tigue looked up at the muscular stag’s furious face. While the tiger only came up to Brett’s waist, the stag still looked like a Mister Universe winner who’d been washed in too much hot water when compared to their surroundings. Although even with his impressive rack of antlers, Brett’s height still didn’t reach the nearby grizzly bear’s belly.
“Why bother?” Shane grumbled to Brett. “He can’t hear us.” The bear was the most recent arrival and also the most cynical.
“Yeah:  save your pipes,” Sommer agreed.
The lion wasn’t as disconsolate as the bear but had a realist’s perspective.
Tigue didn’t bother adding his own admonishments. He knew the lion and grizzly were right. Although they’d not been here as long as Tigue, they seemed to have gotten resigned to their diminished fate more quickly than the muscle-stag.
Then again, they also weren’t as small.
Tigue and Sommer were both felines but didn’t—couldn’t—see eye-to-eye. Even though, from what Tigue understood, Sommer hadn’t initially been taller than him, he now looked about twelve-and-a-half-feet-tall to the two-inch-high tiger. Shane, being a bear, was stockier than either of them but also twice as tall as Sommer. To Tigue, the big, chubby, muscle-bear loomed over him at a relative height some twenty-five feet high. Perhaps Carlisle had felt pity on the grizzly and decided not to shrink him as small as he had, the rest. The bear was, after all, still half a foot tall. Had they met before a week ago, perhaps Tigue would have been the tallest. Back when he was eight-foot-five, he was always the biggest and best. Today, he was smaller than small:  living in the shadows of other shrunken men. It was impossible to tell what “normal” was anymore.
Brett had called it “the Big Shrink”.
The shuddering sound of a low moan, rumbling like thunder from the normal-sized men in the room, grabbed the tiger’s attention.
“Jesus,” Tigue said, “they’ve started.”
Despite himself, Tigue was turned-on. He’d never seen all three of them go at one guy at the same time. The scene was arousing. His nostrils brought him the scents, even at this distance … even at his reduced scale. Despite himself, he got hard. He didn’t have to glance at the others to know they were feeling it, too. The giants loomed in the dim light, as if several city blocks away. It was strange, realizing they were only a few feet distant. Everything was scaled to an inconceivable size … it was like watching a porno on a drive-in movie screen.
Chris sat on the faded, green couch, legs spread. His long, vulpine tail swished against the yellow curtains behind him as Anders kneeled and licked the fox’s erection. From behind the three-hundred-fifty-foot-tall badger, Stanhope lubed up. He caressed the badger’s ass and teased the man’s stubby tail. Seconds later, he pressed his mammoth cock up against his playmate’s cheeks. The badger nearly choked on the lounging fox’s shaft while gasping from the intrusion, below.
Thicker than Tigue was tall—twice his height in thickness—Stanhope’s cock terrified Tigue like nothing else. It was like watching a tree being shoved into a logging mill. Even from several city blocks away, the casual display of such power was frightening.
It only made him harder, despite how ashamed he felt at feeling this way. Turning his gaze, he watched Carlisle.
The wolf was the ringleader. Each of the tiny men, whether initially reduced by him or only meeting Carlisle once they were miniaturized, knew enough to keep their eyes on him. He got down on all fours, paws stroking the badger’s coarse fur, and slowly slid beneath Anders. A minute later and each of the shrunken men could hear the wolf’s muzzle as he started sucking the badger’s shaft.
All three—the wolf and the two foxes—were good at what they did but Carlisle seemed to be the most successful at acquiring the playmates they wanted. The others sometimes called him “the toy collector”.
“I’ve seen this guy at the gym,” Brett murmured, nodding at Anders. Tigue reached up and placed his palm on the stag’s hip. “He was the only guy in my weight-class.”
“And treated the smaller one’s like dirt?” Sommer guessed.
“Not exactly.” The stag looked up at the lion from about mid-thigh. “Most people pay attention to dirt.”
“Looks like they got his attention,” Shane said wryly.
“Three hot guys promising a good time? Whose attention wouldn’t be captured?” Tigue asked.
Tigue had seen it enough to know how it worked. Whichever of the three worked the shaft was the initiator. And since the two foxes were both inside their intended victim, he was guessing they had longer fuses … they would be able to pull out before things got messy.
He kept his eyes on Carlisle.
When Anders began to buck, he knew it was nearly over.
The giant wolf clutched both hands around the even larger badger’s thick cock and sucked harder. Those huge, striped balls swayed back and forth, hitting Carlisle in the chin as he drained the badger of every drop. Not a single spurt was wasted. But far more was being drained than his spunk.
While Anders’ mouth was still full of oversized fox-cock, his muffled moans indicated he was satisfied. But that was before he’d noticed. The change began almost immediately.
To the four already-shrunken men in the aquarium, the tell-tale signs of reduction were obvious. The big, muscle-bound badger was already smaller. The huge cock in his ass was “growing”:  already so big that Tigue doubted he could take it for long, even had he still been eight feet tall. Or was that just perspective talking? He didn’t know. Anders, barely noticing, seemed still able to handle the hung fox...
...For now.
The big, striped-man’s muscles shuddered as he pushed back against the intrusion. But his tiny, stubby tail was lifting higher already as his three-hundred-fifty-feet of height faded into three-hundred-thirty.
...Or so.
It was hard to tell.
Anders had been seven-foot tall, once, and now he was ...what… six-eight? Six-six?
It wouldn’t last.
On the couch, Chris began to groan.
“Wait a sec,” the tiny stag said, “they’re going to fill him?”
“Don’t they always,” Tigue asked.
“No, I mean both of them; both foxes at once.”
The tiger realized that for all his cynical nature, Brett hadn’t really thought about all three of the giant men taking turns with the same guy at the same time.
“But each of us got an extra jolt from just one of them,” the stag said. He sounded shocked.
“Probably will shrink him out of existence,” Sommer said.
Before Brett could respond, the fox on the couch exploded in orgasmic climax. Each of the men in the aquarium watched; Tigue licked his lips nervously but stroked his hard shaft. The badger swallowed Chris’ every drop. His shrinking took him down past three hundred feet. But they each could see the reduction starting to speed up thanks to the tained cum he’d just swallowed. With Stanhope still embedded in him from below, that was going to hurt.
With a tight pop, the badger’s muzzle came loose as Chris pulled out and laid back. A slender trickle of his cum seeped across the badger’s muzzle. But that was the least of the badger’s problems.
Anders yelled, loud and booming, and put one hand to his stretching ass cheeks. “Wha-  What’s happening?”
His shrinking accelerated, his body collapsing in upon itself as he dwindled past a two-fifty to about two-hundred-twenty-five feet tall. Judging by the furniture and the three normal-sized men in the room, Tigue figured the badger could have only been an actual four-or-five feet tall, now. Trying to take a fox like Stanhope, a man with a solid fourteen-inches of cock, must have been like trying to handle an elephant…
...An over-sized elephant...
...A giant, over-sized elephant.
The badger yelled and began to pant as he felt the growth within. His ass strained and each of the four, tiny men could see it in his face.
“Better pull out,” Chris chided from his position, lounging on the couch.
“Unless you want to clean up an exploded badger,” added Carlisle. The wolf stood up. He licked his muzzle while watching with an amused expression on his face.
Anders continued to diminish.
“Almost … there,” the remaining fox grunted.
“What are you doing to me! What’s ...ahhhhh… what’s happening?”
Stanhope redoubled his efforts. He slammed his cock in and out of the shrinking badger like a fiend. The badger tried to pull off but Stanhope, for all his lean physique, held the more muscular man in place as he dwindled.
“Stop! I … I don’t understand!” His voice had risen in pitch and his body reached a truly comical size. The monstrous shaft in his ass, not all of which could fit in the first place, seemed ready to rip him apart.
Even though he couldn’t really hear it, Tigue imagined Anders’ flesh stretching towards the breaking point. Despite his self-identification with what was happening before him, he’d been stroking his own cock for a minute or two.
He stole a glance at Brett and saw that he, like the other two shrunken men, was doing the same. Perhaps they were all perverts. Perhaps they were so callous about sex that they couldn’t help themselves, even when seeing someone shrunk and humiliated.
But perhaps, down deep, they all loved it and longed for it.
A part of the tiger wanted for Brett, Sommer, or Shane to stomp on him just then:  to pin him to the floor of the aquarium with one, big paw. Pin him and jerk off all over him. Even though even the biggest of them was only three times his height, he doubted he could survive it. The bear was massive. And while, at their diminished size, their strength seemed much higher than it should be, he didn’t want to put it to the test. Each of them knew how fragile they were, now:  toys in a real man’s world. He didn’t know why their strength was so out-of-proportion with the rest of their bodies but he suspected it had something to do with how ants could lift so much more than their body weight. It wasn’t something he’d ever had to know before being shrunk.
Anders’ cries grew louder and higher pitched. Tigue watched the muscle-bound badger get smaller and smaller, begging to be let off of Stanhope’s tree-like cock. The fox, though, was having none of it. Even Chris was helping hold Anders in place while the badger got fucked. Carlisle, meanwhile, had cleaned up and was idly stroking his stiff shaft.
As the badger’s abdomen stretched outwards with the shape of the massive penis inside him, Stanhope finally began to shudder. He moaned and moved one hand went to the base of his cock, gripping it tightly, while the other slapped the black-and-white furred man’s tortured ass.
“Hang on … toy!” he snarled.
With that, he stiffened and stood. His cock deep within Anders, Stanhope pulled the badger off the ground. Only two-foot-ten or two-foot-eight, the tiny man squealed in panic. His belly distended as Stanhope’s giant balls released. Again and again he flexed and spasmed. Nearly half a minute passed; Anders looked near-catatonic. Finally, spent, Stanhope staggered back to be caught by Carlisle. Chris kept his grip on the badger as his fellow fox pulled out with a loud, slurping “pop”. Very little of the fox’s seed escaped. Each of the shrunken men knew that the chemical in that fluid was about to do some serious work.
Chris didn’t let Anders’ feet touch the ground. Instead, he grinned at the tiny, panting badger and held him up under both arms. The shrinking sped up, again.
Tigue remembered just over a week ago when he’d been the first. Just ingesting a single load from Carlisle after the wolf had sucked him off, made him shrink to his present size. Even then, only when the wolf had slathered him with the antidote in his saliva, had he stopped getting smaller. He’d seen the two foxes likewise halt a downward spiral in one of their victims with a lick or a kiss.
But Anders…
Anders had been sucked down by Carlisle and taken the spunk of both foxes.
The badger writhed and struggled, trying to get free. But it was useless. He was like a housepet trying to get away from someone four times—no, five-or-six times—bigger than himself.
He shrank past fifty scale-feet tall, only twice Shane’s height. His features became more delicate and detailed to Tigue’s eyes.
“What are you doing to me? L…let me go!” Anders squeaked.
Chris licked his lips slowly, and lifted the ten-inch badger up before his eyes in both palms. “You want me to let you go?” he asked. The slyness in his voice was poison. Anders gulped and staggered back, shrinking past eight inches tall. He stumbled and nearly fell off the precipice of the fox’s hands to the ground, far below. “That can be arranged,” the fox said.
He took the tiny badger by one hand and let him dangle. Anders kicked his tiny legs as he shrank upwards in the vulpine’s grip. The other two giants sauntered forward, big grins on their faces, to watch more closely.
Anders was barely six inches tall by the time Carlisle licked his lips again. “You know, I could use a snack,” he said.
“No! Please! Don’t...don’t eat me!”
Five inches … four inches … three inches … two inches…
The badger was getting hard to see. The aquarium was against one wall of the living room. The couch was on the opposite site. To Tigue, it looked like it was six football fields away. The tiny man was now at most Tigue’s height and still getting smaller.
“Whoops!”
Chris had stepped closer to hold the tiny badger up to the others but stumbled on a patch of lumpy carpet. Tigue almost missed it but his quick eyes caught sight of a tiny object falling from the fox’s fingers. Anders would have been only about half an inch tall … possibly smaller.
He’d survive the fall, of course; Tigue knew that from Carlisle’s rough treatment of him over the past seven days. Something about vast distances not meaning as much to his shrunken body was the reason. Again, like his disproportionate strength, he still didn’t understand it. But he knew, deep down, that Anders would wish the fall could kill him.
The two foxes laughed while Carlisle knelt to inspect the carpet fibers.
“He’s gone,” Brett said. The stag sounded defeated; broken.
They lost sight of the tiny badger as the foxes crowded around Carlisle and got on their hands and knees to join in the search.
“Nothingness,” Sommer said, dully.
Nearly a minute passed before a rumbling boom of “Ah-ha!” echoed from the wolf.
Brett had already walked away and Sommer was trying to reassure him. But the bear and the tiger were still by the glass, aquarium wall. Tigue saw Carlisle spit into the rug and, after retrieving a tweezers from the coffee table, reach down into the depths of the carpet like a vast, incomprehensibly large claw machine trying to withdraw a prize.
Slowly, the three stood; Chris was giggling.
“Looks like you over-did it,” he said to Stanhope.
The other fox just smiled. “I was too much for him.” He glanced over at the aquarium. “Time for phase two?”
Carlisle smirked, squinting at the tip of the tweezers. “I dunno; he’s awfully small.”
“Why turn back now?” Stanhope asked. “We’ve got all our data. Time to go out and get tons of guys.”
“And we’ll need the room to store ‘em,” Chris agreed.
The wolf winked and looked towards the aquarium.
Tigue didn’t know what was about to happen, but he felt a chill run down his spine.
The three giants slowly sauntered towards the four. After a moment, high above, the black lid withdrew and Carlisle’s face loomed like that of a god. “Got a new friend for you,” he rumbled. “Better hold on to him.” The giant wolf lowered the tweezers towards Tigue who put out his hands.
Even this close, he was having trouble seeing the tiny, shrunken man.
He gulped as he looked at Anders.
The tiny badger was barely two inches tall … compared to the tiger. He could have only been a few tenths-of-an-inch tall. At most.
Anders was conscious but wide-eyed and staring up at the giant world around him.
“You feed the badger the special formula?” Carlisle asked, still stroking his huge erection.
Stanhope nodded. “Same stuff we’ve been feeding these guys for a week.”
Each of the tiny men looked at one another nervously. Tigue could tell from their faces that they knew nothing about this “special formula” they’d been fed, either.
“What have you done?” Brett demanded in his squeaky voice.
“Only what you always wanted,” Carlisle answered. “Taken the burden off your shoulders.”
“Burden? What burden?” Shane demanded. The bear’s rumbling voice was loud but Tigue knew that was only perspective. Each of the giants’ ears twitched to listen more closely.
“Why, the burden of being the biggest and best,” Stanhope said.
“Being always in charge,” Chris added with an effeminate lisp.
“Now you get to be taken care of,” the wolf finished. “But not before we make more room.” Idly, he reached in and flicked Brett with one finger. The stag flew back and tumbled through the wood shavings on their enclosure’s floor.
Tigue watched as Brett’s world spun as if rocked by an earthquake. Then, the aquarium joined in. He barely kept his footing as he looked up and saw the reason. The two foxes lifted their enclosure off the table where it sat and lowered it to the floor. High above, Carlisle stepped forward and resumed stroking his cock. His tip glistened with precum over the edge of their container.
“Oh, shit! No! You can’t!” Brett’s cry was one of fear but Tigue thought he could smell faintly-concealed desire beneath the surface emotion.
That was it, then:  they all must have secretly come to want this.
He didn’t know what that meant about the four shrunken men but he knew what it was leading to. They would all shortly, if they hadn’t begun to already, start to believe they deserved this.
The wolf didn’t bother responding to the miniscule shout.
“Don’t worry,” Stanhope rumbled, “you won’t suffocate or starve or get squashed by any of the other little guys we’ll put in there with you. The food additive we’ve been feeding you will keep you alive.”
“Well, we think it will,” Chris giggled.
“True,” Stanhope agreed. “That’s the last thing we have to test, although I don’t really care if it works. We’ve probably made you near-immortal; you should thank us.”
Next to Tigue, the other three tried to run, scampering to the aquarium’s corners. Tigue just looked down at Anders in his palm.
He knew it was hopeless. He also felt himself getting aroused again. He couldn’t help it. Comparing himself to Anders, he knew he was about to become that tiny if not much, much smaller. He wondered if the wood chips would become like houses or hills to him. He looked up at Carlisle’s sneering, powerful face as the wolf approached climax and licked his lips.
In his mind, Tigue was sucking that giant cock.
He could feel his hands on the wolf’s balls; the throbbing cock in his grip as he stroked his giant lover towards climax. He could almost feel the trembling in Carlisle’s muscles, telegraphing the imminent eruption. He heard the giant’s rumbling breaths as the trickle of precum momentarily stopped. And although Tigue had always said he’d never kiss anyone whom he didn’t feel was his equal, right now he wished he was kissing that giant, smirking muzzle.
Then came the flood.
Thick, white waves of cum shot in geyser-like surges from the huge cock, high overhead. The smell, salty and acrid, hit first. Tigue winced and doubled over, shielding the tiny Anders without thinking. The viscous spray, hot and as gooey as melted wax, hit him like a ton of bricks and washed the tiny tiger off his feet. He held his breath as the flood swept him along. He kept his eyes clenched tight but felt the cum seep around his fingers to caress the tiny badger. Desperate, he kicked off against the bottom of the aquarium and pushed himself to the surface. Gasping for air, he tossed the tiny Anders as hard as he could over the dampening landscape. Briefly, he saw the other the shrunken men scrambling to get away from the torrent. Above, the wolf swung his still-spurting cock half-heartedly after them. Carlisle had clearly been aiming for Tigue:  the collector’s first “toy”.
But the tiger had little time to focus on anything but himself.
No sooner than he had tossed Anders to what he hoped was safety, he was swept under again. Worse:  he felt the tingling in his fur and flesh that told him the shrinking had begun.
He’d only felt it once, just over a week before, and it had lasted less than ten minutes. It was a sensation so unique that he’d remember it forever. The last few days compressed into a moment as the inward rushing of his flesh, his organs, his bones, his blood, his very mass, echoed that which he experienced in the alley where Carlisle had first cornered him.
It was strange:  as if the last few days with Brett, Sommer, and Shane were illusionary:  just stop-overs from one event to the inevitable conclusion of now.
The surface tension of the cum grew tougher, like rubbery cement, as he tried to push through it to the surface. He got smaller and smaller, the cum-coated wood shavings growing dark as they stained with the capillary action of Carlisle’s fluids. The smells grew no more intense but the newer scents, things he had previously been too big to detect, joined the aroma of that singular, bodily secretion.
He felt like he was drowning as a quarter-inch gave way into half of that and then even that miniscule size evaporated into smaller fractions.
The great, glass walls shimmered and grew taller and thicker. The light coming through their walls looked increasingly distorted to his still-shrinking eyes. The giants watched him, laughed as they squinted at him, and patted the giant wolf on the shoulders as he finished his load.
Tigue, however, just felt his world continue to pull inwards.
Gasping, he used his tiny claws to cut through the surface tension and escape back onto the surface of the goopy, thick wave. He shouted his freedom but his voice was so high-pitched, even his sharp ears could barely hear it. And still he got smaller and smaller.
Barely a speck, perhaps the size of a gnat, he got to his feet. The waves rumbled and tossed beneath him and he staggered, half-running, towards where they crashed against a beach of discarded food pellets. He got among them, watching small insects the size of his hands, scamper away. But at the rate he was reducing, he knew it wouldn’t be long before the tables would be turned. Those bugs were destined to be giants to him.
Tigue looked up, watching the world grow. The lights, high overhead, were like long, rectangular, fluorescent suns. They looked distorted as if the thickness of the air relative to his irises made them appear to shine through a thin haze, high in an alien atmosphere. He suddenly, although he’d never been one to read science fiction, felt like he was exploring an alien world.
The booming laughter of the three giants became like thunder:  an omnipresent force of nature that buffeted and shook his growing environment. They became that much more removed from mortals. They were nature itself; they were gods. A single press with a single digit could have crushed him a hundred times over.
A millimeter seemed generous to him, now, as he shrank past a tenth that size … a twentieth.
He pulled himself forward on his feet and leaped across a growing divide between the edge of the cum and the giant food pellet debris. A single, giant curl of wood shaving cast its shadow over him like a small mountain. He staggered for shelter, heart racing.
He turned and looked at the bulging wave of cum behind him. It stood, there, relatively steady but wobbling. Its surface tension kept the leading edge, twenty times his height, curved outwards in a threatening, shivering wall. Within it, he could see tiny, swimming things:  each the length of his fingers and still growing.
He watched as they approached the size of his hand and then his forearm.
Slowly, he strode forward, reaching out as if to touch the surface beyond which they swam.
“Careful,” boomed a powerful voice.
He looked up.
Anders looked down at him. The badger hadn’t escaped further shrinking but he was still a dozen times Tigue’s height. The ground shook and the bulging convex curve of the cum threatened to surge forward. Beyond Anders, about six times the badger’s height, loomed Brett. The stag looked terrified and squinted down at the tiny tiger.
“Hang on,” he boomed in his tinny voice, “hang on:  I’ve got you both.”
The giant fingers first picked up Anders and, by extension, surrounded Tigue.
Perhaps time had grown as they had shrunk; perhaps their perceptions were just that different. But it seemed like hours passed before they found the other two.
Sommer, still the proud lion, was twelve times Brett’s size and offered to stand guard over the tiny stag as they sought refuge from the giant insects that hunted for vegetable debris on the aquarium floor. Shane, about a fifth those near-invisible bugs’ size, so much smaller than gnats, was still ten times the size of Sommer. The grizzly couldn’t really see Tigue at all, but he trusted that as he held Sommer, and Sommer held Brett, and Brett held Anders, that Tigue was there … somewhere. Anders held the tiger and, once the others brought him up to speed on what had happened, he relayed words back up the chain that only he could hear from within his palm. The shrinking had stopped.
The gods peered in from above, but Tigue could only tell by the passing of shadows:  they were too vast for their details to be sensible. Their giant, glistening eyes were about the only things, far above the haze, that stood out against their furry shadows. The rumbling of their thunder was indecipherable. Truly, even if the five hadn’t vanished, for all practical purposes they were gone.
And yet, in the middle of it all, Tigue felt … at peace.
He’d made it.
He didn’t realize it until he got here, but he’d been walking towards this place all of his life.
All the times he’d scoffed at others, pushed those around who were smaller than him:  it had all been leading here. As small as small could be, he was finally reduced to what he’d been all along:  a speck to a speck. He finally fit his inner nature. Others would join him and then they, too, would eventually be shrunk and he’d go spiraling down even further with them:  he could see it all, now, as clear as day.
He looked up at the giant holding him, past Anders to the giant holding him and the bigger man looming just over that man, into the titanic face of the grizzly towering over them all. This was where he deserved to be. This was the ultimate end of the Big Shrink.
This was who he was.
And he thanked the gods as he contemplated his life of powerlessness, ahead.

End