The Man Club (AR)
by fucil99
Randel Hanes was fuming mad. He had strict rules for employees, and violations of this kind were not tolerated. Mr. Hanes, as he preferred to be called, called over his manager, Joe Tatum.
"Mr. Tatum. I think you know what this is about, don't you?" Hanes asked coldly as he sat down at one of the many plush bar seats near the stage.
"Ahh... I think I could take a good guess at it, sir," Joe said feeling a little nervous over this impromptu meeting with his boss and owner of the Man Club.
"I bet you could, Mr. TATUM!" Hanes said as he shook his head and eyed Joe from head to toe and back to his eyes. "When did you find out about this little infraction, as you called it?"
"I-I'm not going to lie to you, sir. I knew about it before it happened. I warned them and told them if they got caught... well, you know," Joe said hoping honesty would help quell his anger towards his involvement in the event.
"Well, thank you for not lying to me, Mr. Tatum. But don't for a second think that gets you off the hook, Joey. Or should I call you--Little Joey?" Hanes said with an evil smile.
"I prefer Joe, sir. It fits me better, SIR!" Joe said a little pissed about being treated in this demeaning way.
"I guess it does now, doesn't it Joe? For now that is. Tell me something Joe, how tall are you?"
"I'm 6'6" sir."
"And how much do you weigh?" Hanes asked again going from his head to his toe taking in his own account and guess at the big guys weight.
"285 sir," Joe said almost proudly.
"And you're in great shape too, Mr. Tatum. I should think you have a very low fat count on a frame that well muscled as well, right?" Hanes said not looking at him anymore. He was watching his dancers practicing for that night's show and all of them were oblivious for the most part about his visit there.
"YES SIR, THAT'S RIGHT! I don't have a high fat count, SIR!" Joe was beginning to get pissed by now, and it showed. He could mop the place with this arrogant bastard if wanted to. A long pause followed Joe's angry answer, and Joe sat down on a stool two stools away from Mr. Hanes. Hanes looked over at him and admired how good the young man looked. He contemplated his value to him and the bar. He was a good manager, he was handsome, very handsome in fact, sort of the John Schneider look, and in a bar that caters to women, that was definitely an asset. But it wasn't his best asset anymore. He was smart, good with the books and good at keeping this place running at top efficiency. And above all he made him money. But he could do all the important things Hanes needed him to do from the sidelines so to speak. He didn't need to be on the floor to do his job, and he didn't want to fire him. But he couldn't let this go unpunished. He needed to be taught a lesson, and so did the other perpetrators of the violation.
"You know what has to happen here Joe. You knew the rules when you first got here," Hanes said thinking of the proper punishment for Joe.
"Excuse ME, SIR, But I'm not one of your dancers, RANDEL! I looked like this when I came here. This is my work, not yours. I earned this. You didn't give it to me like you did them. So it's not yours to take, SIR!" Joe said knowing where Hanes was going with this. "Punish them all you want, Mr. Hanes, but leave me out of this. Besides you can't take what you didn't give, SIR!" He had had enough of this conversation and was about to deck Hanes for even thinking he owned him like he did the others. "I quit Hanes. I think before I kick your scrawny SHORT LITTLE ASS I better just leave." Joe said as he got up and just started to walk away.
"JOEY! You can't leave. You're under contract," Hanes said and watched as the tall handsome Joe stopped and stood there, his back facing him. He was a nice looking guy standing there in his casual clothes. Light blue faded jeans adorned his thick muscular legs tight enough to show every detail of his legs muscles, his firm bubbled muscular ass was an eye catcher indeed tapering into a waist that was perfect for his size and build. He had no fat, just the perfect 34 inches from there his back adorned by a tight fitting tee shirt spread out a like an hourglass top spreading outward to a broad well muscled back and shoulders thick strong arms of a bouncer's (Joe's original job). Hung down from shoulders to die for were huge delts of thick muscle that led to a thick strong neck. His head adorned in thick lush brownish blonde hair styled just right. It would be a shame to do what needed to be done, but an example needed to be made of this violation, and he was just as guilty as his dancers were for allowing them to do it. "Turn around Mr. Tatum," Hanes said bluntly.
Joe was pissed. He was under contract for another year with Mr. Hanes to run and manage this bar. Joe sighed. So he couldn't quit, so he would have to stay. That was about all he really had to do. Hanes didn't own him like he did the dancers and the bouncers so the most he could really do is demote him or make him take a pay cut or something. Joe turned around and stood there legs slightly spread his quads showing beautifully in his tight jeans. Deep blue eyes of a model's stared back strong, confident and unafraid of him. His square jaw line and angular features tipped with a well-groomed goatee gave him a very good-looking rugged appeal.
Right now he was formidable in his defiance, and his stance showed it. Broad pectorals dominated his upper torso, and a clearly well-chiseled 8 pack of abs and thick well-muscled strong arms with 22-inch biceps and 16-inch vein covered forearms showed why he wasn't afraid of Mr. Hanes. His jeans had one end of the too long belt hanging down from it loosely dangling--so classic a style these days. It led your eyes to his crotch where it held a fantasy for Hanes. He was always impressed by Joe's ample manhood. It bulged in all its glory for him to gaze upon and the world to see as well. There was no doubt he had been a good lover to many a lucky person over the course of his 28 years on this earth.
"So, what's it gonna be, Mr. Hanes? A demotion? WHAT?" Joe said as he sort of tilted his head and lowered it a bit but never taking his eyes off of his boss.
"A DEMOTION! Interesting. I guess you could call it that." Hanes said as he stared at the proud headstrong young man. Joe caught what he said but the inference eluded him. "We could call it a demotion then. That sounds good to me," Hanes said as he raised his right arm and pointed his index finger at Joe. "Consider this a DEMOTION, Joey!" he said in a voice that sounded like it had its own echo to it.
Joe felt a chill come over him, and he felt a wave of something come over him. He had seen this happen before to one of the dancers, and he wasn't going to let him do it to him if he could help it. He tried to move but found he was unable to. Panic then spread over his face as he felt like he was shrinking or falling, and then he felt his arms, legs, his very dick, torso and neck getting thinner. He could feel his very skeleton shrinking and contracting, getting smaller and shorter. "STOOOPPP! NOOO! YOU DON'T OWN MEEE! STOPPPP THIS!!!"
Hanes watched as the first signs manifested themselves on Joe. His tight jeans began to get looser as the legs that supported the tight fabric shank down in size. His tight tee shirt also succumbed to the loss of its support as it got looser on him. Joe's eyes were wide with fear.
"STOP THIS PLEASE!!! STOP!!" Joe screamed as he felt years of hard work beginning to fade from him. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!! PLEASE DON'T... DON'T DO THIS TO ME PLEASE!" He said as more weight and muscles drained from him along with his height as well. Everything in the room grew taller to Joe as tears formed in his eyes. He was helpless to stop this guy from doing this to his perfect body. "Please, it was only ten thousand dollars. I'll give you back everything, but please, just stop this. Please, Mr, Haaaness! Ahhh... God, please don't do this to me!" Joe said now crying and begging for him to stop this.
As he got smaller and shorter, his jeans started their trip down his thinning thighs. His shirt bellowed with wrinkles from loss of filler. His thick arms dwindled down now only 16 inches around and still getting smaller. His legs now the size of an average teen's. He could feel the fabric of his crotch scraping against his thighs as it crept down, and it too bellowed out in concentric folds with one top over the other. They formed as his body shrank in height and size till he looked like a kid playing grown up in his big father's jeans and now huge tee.
Joe finally felt the whole thing stop, but it was too late now. He was no taller than 4'6" and weighed only 75 lbs. He was the smallest guy in the bar and totally at the mercy of Hanes who was now twice Joe's current size. Hanes walked over to the shorter skinny Joe and said, "Now who's the short skinny guy, little Joey?"
Joe was in shock. His jeans were all bunched up around his knees. Somewhere in there once tight boxer briefs now also laid in layers of emptiness. His tee shirt still tucked into the waistband also was in layered wrinkles, the short sleeves covering his now bony elbows and muscle-less upper arms. His brain was the only thing adult on him now; the rest was a like a child's at best. He looked up way up into Hanes's evil eyes, and tears filled his own deep blue eyes. He was a gaunt, skinny, yet still adult and still nice looking for a skinny dwarf. Joe was unable to speak. His voice was hoarse from screaming and crying too hard to say a word to Hanes even in anger.
"Now that the tables have been slightly turned, as you might say, I want the names of the others involved in this! If you ever want to be that big guy again you better start talking LITTLE JOEY!" Hanes said.
Joe fell to his knees, the fabric of his once form-fitted jeans cushioning his fall. He put his handsome skinny face in his hands and sobbed like a kid whose world now changed forever.