Weekend at Sofia's: Sit n' Stay

In the interlude, Dylan took stock of his situation. Judging by the width of the shirt and trebuchet bra draping over his chest like some kind of discount tailors toga, he was somewhere around third of his previously stalwart height. Walking around the room felt oddly alien in just how much the space seemed to swallow up his steps. A passive vastness. A feeling of enormity. An inherent internal smallness that was reinforced with every much-too-big piece of furniture and excessive accessory. The kitchen table in the other room was a distant plateau. The entertainment center and recliner were statuesque in their monumental position. If he lifted his long lapine ears fully vertical they were probably on plane with the side table.

All of which made his attempts to relocate to the couch an ambitious effort. He didn’t care much for the floor after being partially sunk into it by a playful puppy; and the desire to be a bit more elevated was appealing in and of itself. The minor struggle of the stride he had to take there. The wobbly armed hoist needed to pull himself over the cushions. He swallowed down the idly dizziness of the minor journey as the soft surface squeaked under his weight, before relenting and finally allowing him to settle there in comfort.

Dylan's heart rate had lowered (along with his height to the tone of a few odd inches) by the time Sofia returned, sporting a pair of hip hugging olive green pants and a neatly tucked in shirt. A broad belt, as thick as his wrist, those studs glittered in the interior lighting with every step caught his attention, almost as much as her wolfish expression and the sleek metallic gleam of her laptop under an arm. Her fashionable ensemble contrasted his bare nudity. He couldn’t help but cover up a little, blushing from the starkness of their attire (or lack thereof), which only seemed to amuse her further.

“I looked at a few of those little start-ups offering that sham science you’ve gotten all mixed up, bun, but aside from buzzwords and hullabaloo I’m not able to make much sense of what it is exactly they do. So you’re gonna hafta help me out here a bit,” The collie mused as she sauntered closer.

Dylan had hoped sitting on the couch would put them at eye level but with her standing before him, he wasn’t even chest height. Without even trying, her shadow flooded over him and noticeably cooled the air around him, making him bite his lip as he uttered a nervous, “S-sure – how can I help out Sofi?”

“Glad you asked,” she smirked, turning around and showing off that plush rump again. Much bigger than when he had run smack-dab into her derriere in the middle of the cross walk earlier. Dylan gulped. Or rather he was that much smaller. Her tail swooshed to the side lazily, casting a pup scented breeze over him as she turned to sit.

Of course, that comet of a canine keister had him in the impact zone – and the flustered bun hardly hard time to scuttle to the side as her plush posterior pressed into him. The canine’s curve squeezed against him in the taut jeans – broad bottom squashing him against the cushions which uttered muted squeaks in protest at the combined mass of tush and tiny. He strained against her rear – one arm caught under and the other helplessly trying to thwart her weight as she settled in and wiggled for comfort. On reflex he pushed back but it was a vain effort; Sisyphean really. His most stalwart shove barely made a dent in those firm jeans. He just ended up compressed further into the sofa seat as that plump press of canine booty smoothed over him and pinned him down with a squeak.

He tried to protest when she cut him off.

“You can assist me,” the capricious collie smirked under her breath, as she settled fully down and set the computer on her lap. Dylan had to strain to peer over her side and thigh at the glittering screen as she scrolled through numerous windows. His best efforts to wriggle free of her compressing nearness undone as she leaned to the side; into him to show off a search query. A tab sampling the local therapeutic establishments. . “.. by helping me pick out which one of these sham artists you fell for,”

A feat Dylan might have found easier were he not presently struggling to peer over Sofias hips. Nor was that task made

any easier as the prodigious posterior of the puppy pressed him into the couch beneath him as she rattled off names

with a curt, accusatory tone.

“Normalcy Co. ’Anti-curses, anti-dotes, anti-troubles.’ Anti-efficacy too it seems, look at all these angry reviews. Surely

you didn’t get suckered by this bunch Dylie bun? You’d probably try to cut off your foot and sell it as a lucky charm.”

“No-not the – wait does that really happen?”

“Hmm…” She mused, letting him stew on that inquiry. “Deliverance Elixirs, ’Au naturale solutions to your growing

problem’. Bet you wish you had that problem huh Dylie”

She smirked back at him and fuzzled his ear with her finger tips as he huffed. He wasn’t sure if the dizzying spell he was

experiencing was from additional shrinking or just from being smothered under her enormous bum. She took his

wheezing to be quip approval.

“Sounds like a bunch of homeopathic nonsense anyway. I guess the only thing growing is their list of suckers - ohh look

at this one. “Inch in a Sinch,” Size lenders. How trendy. What do you think Dyl? Should we stop by there and see if I can

borrow a foot or two?” she smirked.

“I don’t think- “ he started before squeaking as she leaned into him to smirk down at him.

“No I suppose you don’t. Otherwise you wouldn’t be in the hot seat would you.” She tutted with a toothy clack of her

jaws. “Besides, we’d need to refinance your house with these rates. Sheesh.”

“Oh what about “TinyTown Therapeutics”. ‘Diminish your worries today,’. How cute. I bet the-

“T-that one!” he squeaked out, wheezing under her cheek as her tail all but enveloped him. The rabbits arms struggling

to get around her thigh as she paused on the page.

“Really? You know they are owned by Expandex ™ - bunch of frauds. If thaaaats the case..” she mused with a mildly

more serious hmm hmm. The dog ignored Dylans frantic squirms a moment as she scrolled down across their page

before shifting back to Awoogle to key in a some soundly esoteric terms lifted from the website.

“Oh that’s soundly bad news, bitty bun,” she announced at the conclusion of her rappit-tap-tap quest through a

menagerie of MSDS and prickly patent pages.

“Looks like your lil ‘treatment’ is a propriety cocktail of sorts.”

“Whatzat mean,” he bit his lip, fighting the tide of canine tail overflowing his shoulders.

“It means, I don’t have any idea what they’ve been mixing into your tea or whatever infusions they sold you. So I have

no idea how itty-bitty you’re gonna get. You’ll just gave to ride it out,” She said with a nonchalant shrug.

“Wha- well surely you can give me something to counteract it you know? Growthy chemicals or something. Aren’t you

supposed to be a scientist? Come on Sofia!” he whimpered, pulling himself up by her belt loop as she bristled at the

suggestion.

“Oh yes I’ll just squeeze the golden apples of Eris and get you a nice glass of warm science cider,” the dichromatic doggy

hissed with a hint of a quaking growl on the edge of her syllables.

“Maybe you think being a bit short is a little problematic, but it’s exactly this sort of mix and match back alley bedlam

that’s got you into this mess you if I recall? Nor do I know what sort of reaction anything I give you is going to have. For

all I know you’ll just zip right on down in a flash!”

Dylan whimpered at the suggestion as the agitated doggy snarled down at him, making feel a hundred times smaller

than his size reflected.

“And I supposing I whip up this magical cocktail and it doesn’t work, what then hmm? Aside from the fact that I don’t

have a properly stocked lab in my parlor, I’m not particularly keen to answer to poison control when you go blue in the

face.” She continued shutting the laptop with an irritated clack.

The shorter lapine huffed a moment, biting his lip as the dog barked at him. He felt terribly stupid about the entire affair

now. It wasn’t her fault he was withering away at the touch. At least she’d offered to help, however cheekily it had been.

He considered his options a bit before just hugging into her broad side with a defeated, “I’m sorry… I just don’t know

what to do,”

The canine chuffed at him a moment, before her much bigger arm swept down and squeezed him a bear-hug before

lowering her snout down to rest gently between his ears.

“Well, the first thing we’re going to do is not panic. For all your fluster it looks like your shrinking is slowing,” she

pondered, looking over him.

“.. which means the second thing were going to do is get you some supper.” The dog smiled, “Cos’ that is just what a

growing lad needs.”