Short story: "Shots"

[qzar9999]

Part 1 of 2. As the byline says, the lovely OhZone was my muse for this story, so part 2 is going to be very, very NSFW and completely crazy. ^_^ Fair warning, there will be some SM in the second half too (although, don't worry, I won't lose focus).

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"Shots"
Inspired by ohzone

Linda leaned on the bar and stared across the pool, watching as the woman in the skimpy black bikini flirtatiously touched Chris's arm. He said something, to which she responded by throwing her head back in an exaggerated laugh. Linda's eyes narrowed, her ire building as Chris finally pulled away from the woman with a polite smile and started walking back toward the bar. He set down the tray of empty glasses on the bar top and looked up to see her frowning at him.

"Something the matter, hon?" he asked, starting to clear up the dirty glasses.

"What was that about?" she said, trying not to sound accusatory.

"What was what about?"

"That barely-dressed woman hanging all over you," she said, pointing in the direction of the scantily-clad blonde reclining in her pool chair.

"She was ordering a refill of rum punch," Chris said, still pouring out the watery leftovers from the tray.

"Looked like she was doing a little more than that," Linda said archly.

He sighed. "Okay, she was hitting on me a little bit. She thinks I'm cute, I guess." He looked up from the glasses and met her eyes. "Babe, you have to stop with this jealous streak. You can't get paranoid about every single young female guest trying to steal me away." He gave her a broad smile. "I only have eyes for you, you know that, right?"

Her shoulders sagged a little bit and she looked down. "I know, I know. I just can't help getting a little upset when some bimbo with her tits hanging out is putting her hands on you. And it happens every damn time they do one of these things," she said, casting an annoyed glance at the banner over the bar that read "Singles Night Pool Party! Open Bar! 21+ Only!" in huge, garish red letters. "The place fills up with lonely, drunk, half-naked women, and it seems like they all want a piece of you."

He winked at her, grinning. "That's your fault for not bringing enough for everyone."

"I want you all to myself. Call me greedy." She returned his smile and started helping him with the dirty glasses. A scrap of paper fluttered out from under the tumbler the woman had been drinking out of. Curious, she reached for it.

"What's that, hon?" Chris asked, watching her unfold it.

"Oh, that bitch!" Linda snarled, her teeth gritted.

Chris glanced at the paper in her hand. It had a phone number, with "Call me, maybe? XOXO Cassie" written beneath it. "Hey, be cool, babe. It's not like I'm going to call her."

Linda growled. "That's not the point. She has a lot of nerve even doing something like this!"

"Linda. Calm down. I doubt she even knows I'm with you; I don't exactly go around telling all the guests my personal business."

She wasn't listening to him, though. Her green eyes were fixated on the blonde across the pool. "You say she ordered a rum punch? I'll take it to her."

"Um...hon? You're not gonna do something rash, are you?" Chris said worriedly. "You could get fired if you start shit with a guest."

"Oh, relax," she replied, putting on an unnaturally huge smile. "I'm just gonna take her drink to her, so you don't have to get anywhere near her."

"Linda, I don't like that look in your eyes..."

"Don't be silly, sweetie. I'm not gonna do anything that could get me fired." So saying, she grabbed a clean glass and poured a generous helping of the resort's signature rum punch into it. "Back in a few minutes!"

She sauntered off, carrying the beverage through the crowd of people around the pool. When she was sure he wasn't watching her, she made a quick detour to where she'd stashed her purse, fetching a plastic minibottle with no label that contained a reddish liquid. She took the cap off and poured a small measure of it into the rum punch. According to her friend Rita, the stuff wouldn't do any permanent harm and would wear off in about 12 hours, and in the meantime it would scare and humiliate the blonde bimbo who had designs on her boyfriend. Linda smiled as she recalled the story Rita had told about some wedding she went to where she used it on another man-stealer.

"If only she'd told me how much to add," Linda muttered to herself. Guessing she had probably added enough, she capped the little bottle. Deciding to hang on to it in case she did need to use more, she stuffed it into her back pocket, then smiled to herself as she located Cassie and wove her way expertly through the throng of guests to the blonde's lounge chair. "Your rum punch, ma'am," Linda said politely. The woman looked up with a grin, but it quickly faded when she saw that it wasn't Chris returning with her drink.

"Oh. Uh, thanks. Where's that cute waiter?" she said.

"He's working the bar right now," Linda replied, forcing herself to keep cool. "I'm going to be circulating for a while. Can I get you anything else?"

Cassie sighed. "No, not right now. If I want anything I'll just go to the bar later." Linda watched as she took a big swig of the punch. She frowned slightly and looked down at the glass. "Is this the same stuff I had before? It tastes a little different."

Linda tried to keep her expression and tone neutral, while inside she was cursing. "Yes, ma'am. Same stuff. It's our house specialty," she replied.

Cassie took another sip and frowned again. "I dunno, it just doesn't taste right to me. I think I'm gonna go to the bar and get another one made."

Linda's internal panic ratcheted up a notch. "Well, ma'am, it will be from the same batch, I assure you it'll taste just the same."

Cassie stood up from her pool chair, wobbling a bit since she'd already had a couple of drinks. Her huge breasts, barely contained by the tiny two-piece, jiggled with her motions. Linda noticed she stood about three inches shorter than her own 5'7". "I'm feeling lucky. Here, you can take this one away, and--"

As she said this, she tried to hand the half-full glass back to Linda, but she stumbled slightly as her sandal caught the edge of a cracked tile, and she spilled the remaining drink all over the front of the waitress' uniform, drenching her. Linda could feel the drink soaking through her light blue polo shirt, its sticky juices trickling down her exposed arms and legs. "Oh my god!" she snapped at the blonde. "Be more careful!"

"I'm sorry," Cassie said quickly. "But you don't have to be rude about it. It's just a drink, it'll clean up. You're a bar waitress, this can't be the first time it's happened to you."

Of course, Linda was less upset about being soaked in rum punch (as Cassie was right, this was far from her first rodeo) and more upset about the chemical she'd slipped into the beverage. She racked her brain, desperately trying to remember if Rita had said the stuff had to be ingested or could be absorbed through the skin.

"Look, I didn't mean to do that. But now, if you'll excuse me, I really do need to go get another drink." So saying, she pushed past Linda, still frozen in place as she tried to think, and ambled off in the direction of the bar. The brunette waitress watched her go, finally snapping out of her stupor when she saw the busty blonde leaning over the bar and batting her eyes at Chris.

"Either that stuff will affect me or it won't. I guess there's nothing I can do about it now," she said to herself. "But I'm going to keep that slut away from my man." Thus decided, she followed after Cassie, finally coming up right behind her as Chris was filling another glass with rum punch.

"Now, you'll be more careful with this one, right?" he was saying to her.

She giggled obnoxiously. "Well, that depends. If I spill it again will you make me another one, handsome?" She leaned further over the bar, then glanced down at herself. "Oh, wow, what's with this bikini top? My boobs are practically falling out of it!" she said, reaching up with one hand to fiddle with the skimpy swimsuit.

That was the last straw. Linda tapped the blonde on the shoulder, who turned around with a puzzled expression. "Huh? What do you want?"

"Could you do me a favor and stop hitting on my boyfriend, please?" Linda said with a scowl.

"Your boyfriend? Oh, he's with you?" Cassie said, looking surprised. "I didn't know. He's really hot, congratulations." Her face split into a sudden grin. "Of course, just because he's taken doesn't mean he can't look, right?" she smirked. "I mean, all guys look," she said, gesturing at her impressive figure.

Linda looked down involuntarily, then chortled as she noticed one of the blonde's nipples had slipped out of the top. "Heh. And you're really giving them something to look at," she said, pointing at Cassie's chest.

"What?" The blonde looked down, following Linda's pointing finger. "Oh, geez! How did that happen?" Embarrassed, she started fidgeting with the top again, trying to get it back in place. For some reason, it didn't seem to fit her right, and when she finally arranged it to cover her nipples, it looked a bit looser than it had a minute ago. "Dammit! Something's wrong with my swimsuit. It's gonna keep flashing my tits if I can't fix it."

"Well, it's not like you were leaving much to the imagination before," Linda said with a mischievous grin. She noticed the blonde seemed to be a bit shorter than she had been at her chair--it was working! Better still, she didn't feel any different, so it was likely the stuff only worked through ingestion.

Cassie glared up indignantly. "Oh, fuck you, bitch. You're just jealous you don't have the boobs to fill out a bikini like this."

She didn't yet realize it, but the same appeared to be true of Cassie. The bikini top was obviously too large, the triangles of fabric sagging unflatteringly over her breasts and the ties a little too long to hold it up properly.

Linda suppressed a laugh. "You're right. Mine actually fit me."

"Ugh. Cheap fucking suit," Cassie grumbled, looking down at her swimsuit with a frown. Completely ignoring the fact that she was in public, the blonde untied the back strings of her bikini, pulled them tight, and retied them, then did the same for the shoulder straps. Satisfied, she smirked up at Linda. "It must have stretched out from keeping the girls in check," she said, unabashedly clutching her large breasts.

Well, proportionately large, anyway. Even with the strings tied tighter, the top covered more of her breasts now and still seemed a bit baggy. They didn't look as prodigious as they had earlier; in fact, they barely looked bigger than Linda's own modest 34C chest.

She looked down at the slowly shrinking slut in front of her. "Well, they don't look THAT impressive," she said with a grin.

Cassie stared indignantly at the dark-haired waitress. "Fuck off, stretch. Yours only look big because they're...almost at...eye level...?" She trailed off, looking slightly confused, and flicked her eyes up and down Linda's body. Her brows knitted together and she opened her mouth as if to say something, but as she lifted her head to look at Linda's broad grin, a flash of uncertainty crossed her face, and she evidently reconsidered. Rolling her eyes, she sighed theatrically and threw her hands up in the air. "Whatever. Look, I'm not trying to steal your boyfriend. You can stop being paranoid. There are plenty of hot guys here and I'm wasting my time talking to you."

She leaned over the bar, attempting to use her cleavage again to get extra attention. This time it didn't work quite as well, as she seemed to have trouble actually bending over the counter. Giving up after a few failed attempts, she waved at Chris, who was mixing a drink for another patron. "Hey, handsome. Gimme ten buttery nipples," she said as he stepped over.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "You already have that rum punch. You think you need that much at once?"

"It's not for me!" she protested. "Well, one of them is. But I'm gonna find some sexy guys to share the rest with."

"You know they're not included in the open bar, right?"

"I'm feeling generous," she said with a smile. "How about you? Would you like to put one of my buttery nipples in your mouth?"

He started to laugh, but played it off as a cough when he saw the look on Linda's face. "I'm flattered, but I shouldn't. Management doesn't like it if we drink on the clock when it's open bar. Thanks, though." So saying, he set out ten shot glasses and began filling them.

Cassie shrugged, the motion causing her bikini top to shift slightly out of place again. "Your loss." When he was finished, he handed her the shots on a small tray with her punch, and she carried them to a nearby table. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she called out to the pool area. "Hey, guys! Who wants to have some shots with me?" She got a few enthusiastic responses, and shortly she had a few of the single men at the party clustered around her table. She looked incredibly petite next to them; Linda had the passing thought that the blonde had better be into tall guys, because they were only going to get taller as the chemical's effects progressed.

Cassie continued to dwindle as she and her entourage polished off the shots quickly, then she chugged about half of her rum punch. Comparing her to the men at her table, Linda noted with amusement that she couldn't be more than a hair over five feet tall- even the shortest guy stood almost a head taller than the blonde. Linda wondered if she even noticed though her beer goggles.

"Mmm, I love this party! So many big, strong, gorgeous men here!" Cassie said with a giggle. "I'm going for a swim, if any of you studs want to join me. Last one in is a rotten egg!" So saying, she jogged to the side of the pool (not noticing her oversized sandals flying off her feet), bent her knees, pushed off the tile floor, and dove headfirst into the deep end.

She surfaced in a shallower area a few seconds later to the sound of whistles and catcalls. Wiping her wet hair out of her eyes, she glanced around in confusion. "What? What's everybody looking at me for?" In a moment, she spotted something black and triangular floating on the surface. A worried look crossed her face, and her hands plunged under the water to confirm her fear.

"Oh my god! My suit!" she cried. One of the guys from her table jumped into the pool and grabbed the drifting bikini bottom, wading over to helpfully offer it to her. "Thanks," she said, blushing beet red as she grabbed the bottom and slipped it under the water, contorting herself as she pulled it back on. Frowning, she fidgeted with it, as if it wasn't fitting properly. Finally deciding it was good enough, she smiled at her swimsuit-rescuer. "Thanks so much. I'm Cassie."

"Aaron," he replied, returning her smile. "Nice to meet you. It's not every woman who introduces herself by dropping her pants."

She blushed again. "I don't know what's going on with the suit. I swear it fit earlier."

He shrugged. "I'd imagine it's hard to find good stuff in your size."

Cassie's eyes narrowed. "My size? What do you mean?"

"No offense meant. It's just that you're really petite. I haven't met many women as short as you."

The blonde looked puzzled. "I'm not particularly short. You probably think everyone is short, being such a tall guy."

Linda watched their exchange, fascinated. The dumb blonde still didn't realize what was happening to her. It seemed like it would be impossible to ignore at this point--especially since the water was up to her shoulders even though she was standing near a big, black depth marker reading "4 FT." She looked ridiculously small next to Aaron, as the top of her head was below his shoulders. Linda laughed to herself. Turning to Chris, she said something about going to collect the tray of shot glasses, but that was an excuse to get closer to the pool and spy on the shrinking bikini babe. As she approached the table, her foot slipped, and she lost her balance. She managed to twist her body so she wouldn't hit face-first on the hard tile surface around the pool, but she still came down painfully on her backside, her ass thumping hard against the floor.

"Ow! Jesus!" she exclaimed, leaning forward and rubbing her sore ass while looking to see what she'd slipped on. The floor under her foot was dry, and there weren't any obstructions, so she was unsure what had caused her fall. As she shifted her foot to stand back up, though, she got it.

Her sneaker felt loose.

A chill ran up her spine as she glanced at the footwear, seeing that the laces were still tied tightly, but there was clearly a small gap between her heel and the back of the shoe. She wiggled her foot experimentally, and it slid around in the suddenly roomy shoe. Her sock, too, seemed to be sagging a bit around her ankle. Any other day she might have written this off, but she knew what was happening. Belatedly, she realized she could no longer feel the sticky sensation of the rum punch on her skin--evidently the stuff could be absorbed by contact.

"Dammit!" she muttered under her breath. Linda had no way of knowing how much she had absorbed, so she didn't know how small she might get--but since her victim had only swallowed half of the intended dosage and was already approaching four feet with no sign of stopping, she didn't like the implications. She needed to get out of the bar and find somewhere to hide for the next 12 hours. Trying to figure out what excuse she could give Chris, she stood up, using the table to leverage herself. She rubbed her sore ass again, hoping she wouldn't have too bad of a bruise there later. As she moved to take the tray of empty shot glasses, she thought she felt something brush against her legs, and as she picked up the tray, she heard more whistles and catcalls.

Thinking Cassie was losing her swimsuit again, she turned her head to look at the pool, but the blonde seemed to still have her bikini top on (though it was looking looser and looser as she shrank, the cups trying to float upward as the water was now up to her neck). Shrugging, she started to take a step and felt her ankles snag on something. Looking down, she was shocked to see her black uniform shorts on the ground! She dropped the tray back on the table, but as she bent to pick her shorts up, she felt a draft on her butt, and her lacy blue panties fell into her hands. Even more jeering followed, with at least one shout of "Nice ass!" Burning crimson, she yanked the pants and underwear back up to her waist, trying to situate them so they'd stay. Hurriedly, she grabbed the tray and returned it to the bar, where Chris was grinning at her.

"Nice show you put on there, babe. Not that I don't enjoy seeing you naked, but what happened?" he said as she set the glasses down.

"I'm, uh, having a, uh, wardrobe malfunction," she stammered. "I must have lost a little weight recently and I didn't bring a belt." She paused for a moment, realizing that was as good an excuse as any. "I've gotta get out of here, hon, before I--"she almost completed the sentence with "shrink any more," but caught herself--"before they fall off again. I can go home and grab a belt, and be back here in just a little bit." Of course, she intended to manufacture some excuse when she got home not to come back. She hated to do that to him on such a busy night, but Gabrielle was working too, so it's not like he'd be by himself.

"Got you covered, babe," he said. He removed the buckle of his own belt and pulled it through the loops in his pants, grinning at her as he did so.

"I can't take that! You need it!" she said, hastily trying to hold her excuse together. "Besides, it'll be too big for me anyway."

"Nah," he replied. "My pants will stay up just fine without it. You're the one having the issue, so you can use it. And it's braided, so you can slide the buckle in anywhere. It'll fit you just fine."

Linda gritted her teeth, then tried to make it look like a smile. He was only trying to help, but he was inadvertently ruining her excuse, and she really didn't want to stay not knowing how small she might get. Trying to appear grateful, she took the belt from him and slipped it through the loops on her shorts. "Thanks, sweetie," she said, already attempting to cobble together another excuse in her head. She dreaded trying to serve the crowd and carry around trays of heavy glasses if she was going to get much smaller.

"Are you okay, Linda?" he asked, looking thoughtfully at her. "You look...different."

"Different? What do you mean? I'm not any different," she said a little too quickly. "Um. Now that you mention it, my feet hurt. Do you mind if you do some walking around and I'll just stay back here behind the bar?"

He shrugged. "Sure thing, hon." Smiling at her, he leaned slightly down to give her a quick kiss. "I hope your feet feel better." So saying, he scooped up an empty tray and walked away across the floor.