The Cherub Revue

Chapter 1
Cherub Revue

Chapter Description: Varieties

The cabin in the old, abandoned boys camp looked deserted. But if one looked down and squinted and if one had just the right vibratory frequency, one could see it was far from empty.

A Hispanic boy, pre-adolescent, stark naked, and only five inches high, strained and struggled, trying in vain to reach the blankets on the bed high above him. He stood on tip-toe, stretching as far as he could with one hand while with the other he held a penny he'd found on the floor to cover his bare behind. 

He tried jumping, struggling to keep the penny in place while he bounced up and down. Eventually, his arm started to ache. He tried to switch the penny to his other hand. It slipped, dropped to the ground, and rolled under the bunk before he could retrieve it, leaving him exposed to the world.

"Ah, man!" he sulked. "Why'd they always make us make our beds every day anyway!" He crossed his arms over his little bare chest. 

He looked around. "Hey, Ben! Y'wanna give me a hand here?"

A blond boy, likewise tiny and quite naked, stood a few feet away, turning the pages of a book over twice as tall as he was.  The book was balanced lengthwise against the wall and he kept looking at illustrations, then at himself, flexing his skinny arms and making muscle man poses.

"Just a second, Eugene!" he answered. "I'm checking myself against this chapter on childhood development to make sure everything's on schedule!" He looked over his shoulder at his rear. "And with any luck, there won't be any snoopy library ladies coming along this time!"

"I hope not!" Eugene walked over. "This is embarrassing enough!"

"Hey! Let's see how you're doing!" Ben looked over the scowling boy, staring directly at his crotch. "Well, I'm sure you'll catch up eventually..."

Eugene's blush deepened.  "Very funny! I..." 

Ben nudged him. "Ssh! Look!"

He pointed at a third boy, a beak-nosed Caucasian the same size they were.  Wide-eyed and mortified, the boy covered himself as best he could with his hands as he tried to sneak across the cabin.

Giggling, the first two boys exchanged evil smirks. Quickly, Eugene found an old lollipop stick on the floor.  He grabbed it and whacked it loudly against the wooden bedframe to make a loud crack.

"Atten-HUT!"

The hawk-nosed boy started, snapping to attention and firing off a crisp salute.  His face beet red, he stood, sweating and nervous, while the other two boys strolled over.  There wasn't a single pube between the three of them.

Eugene gloated as he launched into his speech.

"As you know... As we're all well-aware, everyone in this summer camp has turned into a cherub."

Ben also smirked, sneaking peeks at the other two boys.

"There are some benefits. It's very healthy... We can get tans... all over..."

They looked down at their own and each others' bodies. All had to admit, there were places on each of them that could definitely use a tan. 

"And best of all," Eugene smiled triumphantly at the third boy. "You're the same size as us now!" 

The hawk-nosed boy gulped. Until just recently, he had been their tyrannical, full-grown adult camp director.

"Ah, c'mon, guys!" he squeaked, his once-gravely voice now little more than a peep. "T-Take it easy!"

"You're just another kid like us!" laughed Ben.  "Now YOU hafta go skinny-dipping in that freezing cold lake!"

The little ex-director's mouth dropped open. 

"No... No, you CAN'T..."

Eugene wacked the stick against the bed post again. "GET GOING! Hup-two-three-four, hup-two-three-four!"

Whimpering miserably, the boy started jogging out to the lake. The two boys laughed gleefully at the spectacle of their pint-sized former tormentor's bobbing, boy-sized, lily white bare backside as he marched forlornly out toward the lake.

Ben looked at Eugene. "Hey, wait a second. Do we still hafta go skinny-dipping in the lake too?"

Eugene considered. "Well, we're still campers. And we're kids. So I guess so."

"Aw, man..." Ben glowered miserably.

"Come on," Eugene sighed. "If he can take it, we can!"

"Yeah," Ben nodded in resignation. "At least this way, he'll know how cold it is!"

They started jogging too, falling in step."Hup-two-three-four, hup-two-three-four..."

The three very tiny, very jiggly, and extremely naked little boys blushed all over as they jogged reluctantly toward the icy waters of the nearby lake.

On their way, they passed two more boys, one with dark, curly hair, the other a Native American. Both were completely naked as well and bent almost double, arms wrapped around their middles, butts thrust out, legs clenched tightly together, trying to cover themselves. 

The curly haired boy sneered at the Native American. "Told you I'd get even for this!" he laughed. "Now every dance you do will hafta be a bare dance!"

The Native American glared back miserably. "Ah, shut up!" Then he smirked. "I'd call you a paleface," he said, leaning back to examine the other boy's protruding backside. "But it looks like some things are even paler!"

 "Hey!" He twisted to try to block the other boy's view.  "Oh yeah? I'd call you a redskin, but you're not that red back there!" He laughed as the other boy's blush deepened. "Getting redder..."

"W-Well, if you get any redder, we'll hafta adopt you into the tribe!" He laughed. "We'll call you Little Plucked Chicken!"

"And we'll call you Baby Bear Moon!"

They both snarled at each other, then sighed.

"Man! I just hope nobody sees us like this!"

"Yeah! I've worn buckskin before but this is ridiculous!"

Not that far away, two more tiny, pink-cheeked boys watched with amusement.

"Lookit those guys!" The preppish, brown-eyed boy laughed. "Don't they know nobody'll see anything?" He stood, hands on his hips, smiling smugly. "In scenes like this, the camera always just shoots us above the waist!"

The beet-red, skinny boy with the dark hair grimaced. "Uh, yeah. Hate to break it to you, ol' buddy Matthew, but we aren't being cut off below the waist!"

Matthew's face fell. "Th-th-then they'll add black bars over us in post-production..."

The other boy shook his head. "No post-production. We're both completely exposed." He rocked back and forth on his heels, rubbing his arms. "Naked as the day we were born!"

"WHAT?" Matthew quickly covered his privates with his hands, all the color draining from his face. "They can't do that! We'll get thrown off the air! And arrested and... They can't show us on television naked!"

The other boy sighed. "Yeah, see, that's the thing. We're not on television anymore." He smirked at the suddenly mortified boy. "Looks like we're gonna hafta call you Show-It-All Matthew!"

Matthew glowered. "Well, your name's Adam! Can't you go out and find us some fig leaves or something?"

"Guys! Guys!" A third boy, this one blond, padded over. "It's fine! I know what's going on!"

Adam took a deep breath. "This oughta be good. And what's going on, Doug?"

"We're cherubs! Well, cherubim if you wanna get technical. I know because I played one once on the show!" He looked down at his naked body. "Actually, this is less embarrassing than that outfit they made me wear." Then he laughed at the others. "And I'm not the only one wearing it this time! Welcome to Cupidity, guys!"

The color returned to Matthew's face, and deepened. "Doug, if you're the one who did this to us..."

Doug held up his hands. "I'm not, I swear! I don't know how we got here!" He rubbed the back of his head. "In fact, I seem to remember us all growing up and going on to other things..."

"I remember that too," Adam pondered. The three of them contemplated their prepubescent bodies. "But we're certainly not grown up any more!"

Matthew looked around at the giant room. "More like shrunk down! This is so humiliating!"

"You're telling me?" A freckle-faced boy joined the group. They all stared at him with amused amazement and amazed amusement. 

"ALASDAIR?"

"Uh," Doug chuckled, looking at the scrawny little figure in front of them. "Aren't you supposed to be... bigger?"

"It's so embarrassing!" Alasdair sulked, folding his arms over his chest. "I've been shrunk down to the same size as you squirts! This is the end!" The other boys giggled and Alasdair blushed. "You know what I mean!" He shifted his weight to the other foot.

Yet another boy appeared, a pot-bellied little brat with greasy black hair and a tiny, drawn on fake mustache.  "You think you got problems?" 

The others all stared, incredulous smiles spreading across their faces. "ROSS?"

They looked at each other, then at their now pint-sized former show director.

"Hey, look! He's SHRUNK!"

"Yeah! All over!"

"He's the same size as us now!"

"Yeah! And just as naked!"

Whooping laughter.

Ross turned crimson. "Aw, come on!"

Alasdair nudged the others. "Hey, I don't even mind being a little bare naked squirt if it means I get to see Ross like this!"

Nervous, the pint-sized Ross took a step back. "N-Now guys... I don't know what you're planning on doing..."

To the others' delight, the magic words triggered a deluge of green slime to fall from the sky. It had a much longer drop and a much smaller target, and Ross was almost drowned in the gunk as the others cackled.

Shivering, little Ross looked defiantly at the others. "Well, at least I'm wearing SOMETHING now!"

Another group of boys wandered over.

"Hey, Ross!" Chris cackled. "What was that you said about our shrimpy, scrawny bodies?"

"AW, SHUT UP!" Ross slipped on the slime and fell.

"Well, there's no one who deserves it more!" Kevin gloated. "Remember all those times he made us wear dresses?"

"Or diapers?" Vik added. "He humiliated us on national television!"

"Yeah!" Ted pounded his chest. "Now we've got our dignity back!"

The boys looked at his, then each other's rosy little backsides, then back at him, scowling.

"Well, sort of..."

Then Doug was struck by a thought. "Oh no..." He looked panicked.

"What is it, Doug?"

"Mom's gonna kill us!" he wailed. "You know how upset she gets when we aren't wearing clean underwear!"

They all stared at him.

#

And at a different boys camp, two boys were swimming neck and neck in competition.

"Wow!" Marty exclaimed. "This old lake sure seems wider than I remember it!"

"Yeah!" Spin responded. "And colder too! But don't think you can use that as an excuse! I'm winning this race and I'm taking Annette to that dance!"

"No, me!"

"No, ME!"

Unnoticed by them, little camp mascot Moochie was dog-paddling and accessing the situation. His eyes widened as he saw the two boys, both of whom he already knew quite well, swim past. While neither of them had noticed, Moochie was amazed to realize the they were both a lot smaller than they had been. They'd been teenagers before, practically adults from his point of view. Now they were little kids about the same age he was. And they were ALL a LOT smaller. He looked back the way they'd come to see two enormous pairs of swimtrunks floating unoccupied on the surface before sinking slowly and majestically to the depths of the lake. Then he looked at the ferociously competing boys so intent on their race neither of them had noticed, their furiously  thrashing lily white bare behinds gleaming beneath the clear water. His eyes bulging, Moochie did his best to smother his giggles. Then he started dog-paddling to shore, his own lily white bare behind thrashing as he took a shortcut.  

Finally, they reached the other end of the lake.

"Wow!" Marty gasped, out of breath. "I feel like I just swam Lake Champlain!" He gritted his teeth. "But I'm still gonna win!"

Spin, meanwhile, treaded water, staring up at the wooden dock high overhead.

"They must've really renovated this old place recently!" he observed, Marty catching up with him. "But I'm still taking Annette to that dance!"

"Not if I can help it!"

Almost simultaneously, the two boys jumped from the water, grabbing the edge of the dock and dangling there, their legs kicking in mid-air. And that's when they suddenly realized they were both stark naked.

"HEY!" Spin yelped.

"WHAT THE...?" Marty shrieked.

Their two blindingly pale preadolescent posteriors gleamed wet in the sun, wiggling like caught fish.

A waiting Moochie exploded into laughter. "HA!" He gloated, swimming over to get a better view. "Not so funny when YOU guys lose YOUR trunks, is it?"

The two mortified and flabbergasted boys looked around desperately, finally noticing how big everything was and how small they were now.

"Hey! What happened?"

 Moochie ran up to shore, his own pale bare behind bouncing gleefully.  He turned to point and laugh at Spin and Marty as they kicked and shouted.

"Omigoodness!" Marty exclaimed, finally putting it all together. "We've SHRUNK! We're the same size as Moochie now!"

Their faces turned as pale as their opposite ends. Miserably, they contemplated Moochie's tiny, hairless, prepubescent penis and testicles, on full display as he stood on the dock, then looked down to see their own were about the same, if not smaller, and also on full display.

Moochie's toy sailboat sat over on a corner of the dock.  It was now over twice as big as they were.

Spin and Marty looked at one another, their scrawny little boy arms weakening, their naked little boy bodies shivering in the suddenly chilling breeze.

"I... I guess neither one of us is taking Annette to that dance..."

Their grips slipped and they plummeted back into the lake, surfacing a moment later sputtering and yelling angrily at the vastly amused Moochie, who knelt on the dock laughing down at them. 

"Yeah," Moochie giggled. "Spin and Marty are my best pals!" He leaned back, his pasty white rump resting on his heels. "But this is GREAT!"

Spin and Marty stood up in the water, their faces red as fire engines, the whiteness of their hips and sometimes the tips of their cracks flashing as the waves washed and receded, shaking their fists and squeaking up at the formerly smaller boy.  

#

Meanwhile, in a suburban house decorated in early Seventies splendor, five tiny boys ran across the living room floor. They were small enough that the threads in the rug reached just below their bare bottoms, making it a ticklish experience for all of them.

"WOO-HOO-HOO-HOO! You guys would... WOO-HOO-HOO! ...have shag carpets!" Red-faced and rosy cheeked, a fuming Cousin Oliver clutched his glasses as he ran, blushing all over.

"WEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! Of all the... WHA-HAA-HEE! ...luck!" little Bobby whined, his scrawny backside whipping back and forth. "If we... HOO-HOO-WAH! ...were a little taller or the carpet... YAH-HAH-HAH! ...were a little shorter..." He held his arms crossed over his heaving little chest.

"WAH-HOO-HOO-YEE! Then we'd... GEE-HEE-HEE-HOO! ...be getting tickled on our... GAH-HAH-HAH! ...knees!" exclaimed middle boy Peter, his lily-white bubble butt bouncing and jiggling with each step.

"YOW-HAH-HOO-HOO-HOO! It'd at least be less... WOO-HOO-HOO! ...embarrassing than this!" snapped formerly eldest brother Greg,  all four of his cheeks burning. "HOO-HOO-HAH-HAH! At this... BAA-HAA-HOO! ...rate, we... HEE-HEE-HEE! ...won't know if we've got... YAA-HAH-HOO! ...rug burn or diaper rash!"

"Well... GAH-HAH-HAH! ...none of us are... GEE-HEE-HEE! ...wearing diapers!" snapped Bobby. "They're too... TEE-HEE-HAH! ...big for us now!"

He glanced over, enjoying the spectacle of his thoroughly mortified bossy older brother shrunk down to pre-teen size, and forced to parade around naked to emphasize it. Of course, his own situation was only slightly less humiliating.  

"I suppose... HOO-YAH-HEE! ...you're gonna... YEE-HEE-HEE! ...try to blame it on me... WAH-HOO-HOO! ...cause I'm a jinx!" whined Oliver.

"WOO-YOO-YAH-HEE-HEE! Boys..." Mike, once father and patriarch, now the same size and age as the four others, lectured, his bare behind somehow the palest of the bunch. "I'm getting... YEE-HEE-HEE! ...tired of all this... WAH-HAH-HAH! ...belly-aching!"

"It's not our bellies that's the problem," mumbled Greg to himself.

"I'm in the... HOO-HOO-HOO! ...same boat as you... GAH-HAH-HAH-HAH! ...guys!"

"Yeah," Bobby thought, smirking as he looked at him. "We can all see your little bare boat!"

"But... YEE-HAH-HOO! ...when faced with... WEE-HEE-HOO! ...an obstacle, the only... GAH-HAH-HAH! ...choice one has... BAA-HAA-HAA! ...is to meet it head-on!"

"It's not our heads that's the problem," muttered Peter under his breath.

"Now... GEE-GEE-GEE! ...come on! We're nearly... HAH-HAH-HOO! ...there!"

After what seemed like an eternity, the five finally reached the foyer at the end of the room and hauled themselves up onto the brick. They skipped in place several moments, rubbing their backsides, still giggling uncontrollably.

"HOO-HOO-HOO-HOO-HOO-HOOOOOOO!"

"The only good thing," Cousin Oliver panted, "is that the girls can't see this!" He grimaced, his slightly protruding pecs jiggling in time with his skipping. "I would DIE of embarrassment!"

"Oh, man!" Peter sobbed. "And I used to think shag carpets were groovy!"

"Well," Bobby responded. "It sure got into OUR grooves!"

"That's enough, Bobby!" scolded Mike, his falsetto carrying very little authority and his skipping in place undermining whatever was left. "We... Hey! Where did you get that all-over suntan?"

Bobby cringed a bit. "I... may have snuck over to some of the neighbors' nude swim parties..."

"After Alice specifically told you not to? We're going to have to have a talk about this later, young man!"

"Come on, you..." Greg suddenly realized the others were sniggering at his pint-sized, preadolescent privates, which were no bigger than theirs now, all of which all were bouncing as they hopped. He fought the urge to cover himself. "Come on, you guys!" he said, his voice cracking. "We've gotta work on our song! Dad and Oliver have gotta learn the choreography before our big battle of the bands against the Partridges!"

"Yeah!" Cousin Oliver nodded. "I'll bet they're practicing right now..."

#

And in the garage of another suburban home nearby, a ruddy-haired, freckle-faced, stout little mite was standing on an upside-down plastic bucket struggling to reach the strings on a bass guitar that was like a skyscraper to him.

"I'll never make it!" 

A blond boy peered down at him from atop his gigantic drum kit. "You think you got problems?" He grabbed a drumstick taller than he was and managed to hit a cymbal.

"Pipe down, you guys! I got real trouble!" A shaggy-haired, rail-thin boy glared at them. "I've got to sing this stuff and my voice is four octaves higher!" He made a face. "To say nothing of the fact we're all buck naked, pint-sized, and we've lost half the group!"

"They can stay lost! I'm not letting the girls see me naked!" The blond kid shouted in a panic. "Not even Mom! No way!"

"Guys! Guys! I've got it all worked out!" A fourth kid made some adjustments on a speaker he was standing on. "Instead of trying to play those things, you can just sing to pre-recorded tracks!"

"Well, that's a little better," sighed the shaggy-haired kid. "We'll still sound like Alvin and the Chipmunks, but..."

"Hey!" The blond kid clambered down from his perch, making his way over to the speaker. "I like Alvin and the Chipmunks!"

"You would!" the shaggy-haired boy snapped back. He looked at his former baby brother. "Ugh! I can't believe I'm the same size as you!"

"Get used to it, big guy!" the ruddy boy slapped the singer on the back. "Hey, at least we're out of those stupid polyester matching outfits!"

"Yeah!" The shaggy-haired kid rolled his eyes. "Now we're in matching birthday suits! Styled in early pipsqueak!" 

"Come on, you guys!" The other kid shouted from on top of the speaker. "Get up here and I'll turn the sound on!"

"Sure thing, Reuben!" The red-haired boy smiled up at him, climbing up the speaker to stand next to him. "Y'know, nowadays it feels more like we can see eye to eye on things!"

He plopped down on the speaker, his pudge jiggling, his white legs dangling over the side.

The other boy sighed. "It's my nightmare. I'm not big enough to spank him now. In fact, he could probably spank me!" He shuddered.

The two other boys climbed up and sat down.

"And don't you worry about the other band!" Reuben told them. "They're in the same fix! In fact, I snuck over and spied on them earlier." He snickered. "They were getting their butts tickled trying to walk through their shag carpets! Man, it was hilarious!"

The others all looked at one another, giggling. 

"Here's my idea," he explained. "If we can figure out some way to get this speaker to the show you guys might be able to perform from up here. But we have to check to make sure the sound vibrations won't make it too difficult." He flipped a couple more switches, then sat down next to the others as the speaker warned up.  "Just let me know how you feel about it...."

The music started. After a moment or two, all four boys' eyes widened as the sound started vibrating certain very sensitive areas of their exposed anatomies.

"WHOAH-HOO-HOO-HOO-HOO!!" The blond boy squealed.

"H-H-HEY!" The freckled kid squeaked. "YEE-HEE-HAH-WOO! WH-WHAT IS THIS?"

The music kicked in, the sound vibrations literally lifting them and suspending them in midair as their wee buttocks shook with the beat.

"OH-OH-OH-OH-KA-KA-KA-KA-KAY!" The fourth boy struggled to keep his voice level. "P-P-Performing on the sp-sp-speaker is out!" He grabbed the edges of the imitation wood speaker case. "A-And so is s-s-standing up! HOO-WOO-WOO-HOO!"

"H-HEY!" The blond boy laughed. "Th-This is actually kinda fun! HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"

"YOW!" The ruddy boy exclaimed, a look of astonishment on his face. "The ads for these spe-spe-speakers are right! You really c-c-can feel every note!"  His eyes bulged as the pasty white skin of his chubby little behind shook like waves on a troubled sea. "YII-HII-HII-HAH!"

The shaggy-haired boy turned red as his scrawny bare backside jiggled helplessly. "REU-REU-REU-REU... YEE-KEE-KEE-HEE-HEE!" He swallowed. "Reuben... WOW-HOW-HOW-HOO!" He swallowed again. "H-H-How many songs are on th-th-this t-t-tape?"

The response was mumbled. 

"What?"

"I I-said t-t-two hours and forty-five minutes! I d-d-didn't know I w-w-wouldn't be able to shut it off!"

The shaggy-haired boy crossed his legs and hugged himself. "Reuben... YEE-HAH-HOO! If I s-s-survive the humiliation... YOO-HOO-HEE!... I'm going to k-k-kill you for this! WHA-HAA-HOO-HEE!"

"YAH-HAH-HAH-HOO-HEE!"

"HOO-HOO-HOO-HEY!"

#

Several streets over, two tiny red-faced boys paraded down the street, jaws set, once muscular physiques deflated down to scrawny little boy bodies. Both were trying desperately to hide their discomfiture behind a show of cheeky swagger and macho bravado.

"It's nice to see you've solved the Underoos problem."

"Thanks. And you can stop sucking in your tum-tum now."

"Back at cha. I bet you miss your leopard-skin from GILLIGAN'S ISLAND."

"I do miss my loincloth. By the way, that nickname Peewee is more appropriate than ever."

Long pause.

"D-Do you think anyone'll see us like this?"

"Eventually. You think it'll be anyone we know?"

"Eventually. So... You thinking what I'm thinking."

"There's nothing else to do."

"I will if you will."

"Deal."

They both threw back their heads and started sobbing with embarrassment, hot tears of utter humiliation running down their cute little boy faces as they continued down the street, pudgy little bottoms wagging, howling at the top of their teensy little lungs. 

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

They passed a small backyard garden where a small, very nervous boy wearing tiny wire-framed glasses and absolutely nothing else was hunting for somewhere to hide.

"This... This is simply outrageous! A man of my social standing... My position in the community..."

Then he heard a voice that struck terror in his wee little heart.

"HEEEY, GEORGIE!"

He started. "I... GEORGIE???"

"Well, sure!" A cheerful, smiling boy, also tiny, also completely naked, with a blond cowlick and a sunny disposition,  strolled over to the first boy. "We sure can't call you Mister Wilson now that you're a kid like us, can we?"

He stared up at the smiling boy. To his horror, he was half a head taller. "Oh my God..."

A dark-haired, freckled kid trailed behind him. "Gosh, Mist- I mean, Georgie!" He giggled. "You sure look funny kid-sized!"

"I... I DO NOT!" the mortified newly-christianed Georgie shouted back, blushing all over.

"Yeah, Tommy!" The cowlicked boy scolded. "We shouldn't make fun of Georgie!" He threw his arm around the horrified little mite's shoulder. Georgie squirmed, trying to get away. "He's always been a good pal to us!  And now he's our size! Ain't it neat?"

Georgie glared at the boy, misery written across his face. "Neat's not the word I'd use..."

After a quietly frantic struggle, Georgie managed to escape the boy's grip.  "L-L-Listen, Dennis... I really can't deal with all this right now... I... I..."

"Aw," Tommy smiled. "I'll bet he's shy about runnin' around with no clothes on!"

"Ah heck, Georgie!" Dennis laughed. "Nobody cares if little boys run around naked! Well, our moms sometimes but that don't matter too much!"

"Yeah!" Tommy added. "And if any girls come along, we can hide in the bushes!"

Georgia's face paled at the thought.

"Sure!" Dennis nodded, though his face reddened. "Who cares if dumb ol' girls see us! If that Margaret tries to play house with us, I'll..." He punched at the air.

Georgie was almost sobbing at this point. "Please, no..." He sobbed to nobody in particular. "Not the little neighborhood girls..."

Dennis finally noticed his distress and blithely misinterpreted it. "Hey, it's okay, Georgie! Don't be sad!"

"Hey, Dennis!" Tommy tapped his friend on the shoulder. "I bet he doesn't know how to be a kid anymore!"

A look of dawning revelation crossed Dennis's face. "Gosh, I bet you're right! After all, it's been a long, loooooooong, long long long time since he was a kid before!"

Georgie scowled. "It wasn't THAT long ago..."

"It's okay, Georgie!" Dennis grinned. "We'll teach you how to be a kid again!"

"Yeah!" Tommy laughed. "It'll be LOTS of fun!"

Georgie shook his head. "Oh, no... No..."

Before he could flee, both boys had grabbed his arms and started leading him away. 

"No, no, boys! You don't have to..."

"Gee, this'll be fun! We can play tag... And leapfrog... And go swimmin' in the pond..."

"Oh, my Lord..."

"And we can jump on the bed... And play board games... And tackle football..."

"Help! Someone, someone please help!"

They disappeared over the horizon, three little peach-colored tushies wiggling in unison.

"And if you wanna game from your time, I'll bet we can find some hoops and maybe some sticks to roll them..."

"HEEEEEEEEEELP!"

#

And in the neatly trimmed bushes of a neatly tended suburban home, a very tiny blond boy with chubby cheeks fore and aft peeked out from his place of concealment.

The robot VICKI, colloquially known as Vicki around the neighborhood where the the boy's family had been passing her off as human, stood stoically next to the bushes. As per the boy Jamie's previous request, she looked straight ahead and not down at him. 

"Aw, man!" Jamie whined. "If Dad had to make a robot, why did he hafta make it a girl?"

Vicki replied in a flat monotone, "Your father decided a girl robot would appeal more to consumers due to the popularity of dolls among young girls."

"Yeah, but it stinks for me!" Jamie covered himself as best he could with the foliage around him. "I can't let myself be seen naked by a girl, even a girl robot! I don't even let my mom see me in my underwear!"

"You do not need to worry. You are not wearing underwear."

"HEY!" Jamie shrieked in shocked surprise. "How did you know that?"

"I can see over the bush."

"WELL, STOP LOOKING!"

"Stop looking." Vicki shut her eyes.

"Hey," Jamie brightened. "This would be a lot less embarrassing if we were on equal footing." He looked up at the robot. "Hey, Vicki! Dad programmed you to shrink, right?"

"Shrink. Right."

"Can you shrink down to my size?"

"Shrink to your size."

Vicki blurred, a blue haze appeared around her, and she dwindled down in size until she was eye-level with the tiny Jamie.

"Great!" Jamie smiled. "At least now you can't see over the bush anymore. Now, let's even things out more: Take off all your clothes!"

Vicki swiveled her head to look at him. "Not on your life."

Jamie's jaw dropped. "But you gotta! I just ordered you!"

"I was programmed by your father not to obey any orders from you that might be indecent, dangerous, or illegal."

"Great!" Jamie crossed his arms, sulking. "He would've thought of that."

"I am, however, not seeing you in your underwear."

Jamie made a wry face. "Very funny! Y'know, this is even more embarrassing with you the same size as me! Could you go somewhere else?"

"Go somewhere else." Vicki turned and walked around the side of the house.

Presently, he heard another voice. "Jamie! Jamie!"

Jamie's friend Reggie ran over, dragging a young Asian boy about the same age as them. They were, of course, both as tiny and as naked as he was.

"Reggie!"  Jamie emerged to greet them 

"Sorry!" The dusky-skinned boy apologized. "I would've been here sooner but I was waiting for Vicki to go away, for obvious reasons." He looked down at his nakedness and blushed.

"Vicki?" Jamie remembered the need to keep Vicki's robotic nature a secret. "You didn't see anything, did you?"

Reggie shook his head. "I was too busy trying to keep anyone from seeing anything to see anything."

He waited out the laugh track, then continued. "This is Po," he indicated the Asian boy, a slightly pudgy lad who offered them a gentle, beatific smile. "He knows a whole lot about being a cherub!"

"I studied the nature of the cherub in the Shaolin Temples of my homeland," the boy explained in a quiet, measured voice. "And I have been a cherub myself for many years. I understand you have only recently crossed the threshold into this world and I am willing to offer my guidance."

Just then, a voice thundered from overhead.

"JAMIE! JAMIE, WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Oh no..." Jamie whispered. "That's all gonna hafta wait!" He grabbed the others and dove with them back into the bush. "It's Harriet!"

Po looked at the others, confused. "Harriet?"

"Jamie's neighbor," Reggie explained. "She has a huge crush on him! And she's a girl!"

"Yes," Po nodded. "I assumed that."

"We can't let her see us like this!" Jamie howled. "I would totally die of embarrassment."

"Ah yes," Po nodded. "The burden of human modesty. But you don't have to worry about such things."

"JAMIE!" Harriet peeked in all the bedroom windows, then got down on her knees to look in the basement windows as well. "JAMIE, ARE YOU THERE? JAMIE!"

"Don't hafta worry?" Jamie half-shouted at Po. She's warm for my form! And here I am, bare-butt naked!"

"Um, yes." Po nodded, struggling to comprehend. "But we cherubs vibrate at a slightly higher level than humans. In most circumstances, they are unable to perceive us."

"You mean we're invisible?" Reggie asked.

"Like ghosts?" Jamie added. "She can't see or hear us?"

"Not at all. Unless..."

"Oh, WOW! That's GREAT!" Jamie crowed, a mischievous glint in his eye. "C'mon, Reg, this is the chance of a lifetime!"

"But..."

Before Po could restrain them, the boys jumped out of the bushes and, tiny and completely naked, marched over to the gigantic girl.

"HEY HARRIET! YOUR DREAM BOY IS HERE!"

Striding boldly up to where the girl knelt in the grass, they shouted gleefully up at her.

"HEY, I BET YOU'VE WAITED FOREVER TO SEE THIS!"

Jamie swiveled his hips and did a clumsy bump and grind as Reggie swayed from side to side, his tiny boyhood flipping back and forth. 

"LOOKIT THESE GORGEOUS BODS! EAT YOUR HEART OUT, ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER!"

They flexed their preadolescent muscles, running through a string of bodybuilder poses and laughing hysterically.

"HEY!" Jamie shouted. "CHECK OUT THESE GLUTES!"

He turned around and flexed his buttocks, squeezing tight, then relaxing them. He did this repeatedly, with Reggie eventually catching on and copying the move. Then they sucked in their stomachs and posed.

"MISTER UNIVERSE, HERE WE COME! WE..."

Po had also emerged from hiding. He laid his hand on Jamie's shoulder.

"As I was saying," he said quietly. "We are completely invisible and unperceived by humans... Unless we call attention to ourselves by perhaps shouting or making spectacles of ourselves."

Jamie and Reggie were suddenly very subdued. "Uh... If we do... Then what happens?"

Po sighed. "Then they can see us."

"Then they..."

Jamie and Reggie absorbed this. In quiet horror, they looked up, up, up at the gigantic Harriet, who looked straight back down at them, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hi, Jamie!" Her voice thundered from on high as she looked directly into their eyes. "Hi, Reggie!" 

The boys' breath froze in their throats. They suddenly felt very exposed.

"How you feeling? Pretty small, I'd guess!"

The boys looked at each other, then back up at the pesky little neighbor girl who now loomed over them like a mountain. 

Slowly, Jamie and Reggie dissolved into tears, their shoulders quaking, their chests heaving, their faces burning like hot coals. They could hear Harriet giggling high above them.

"I did try to warn you..." Po shrugged.

"And who's your little friend?" asked Harriet, looking directly at Po.

Poe's face fell. "Oh no... Oh NO..."

Slowly, he joined the others, sobbing in humiliated embarrassment while a gleeful Harriet enjoyed the view.

And in the bushes behind them, the little face and bare shoulders of the still tiny Vicki emerged from the foliage. Her dress and other garments lay in a heap beside her.

She looked at the little row of sobbing bare bottomed boys lined up a few feet away, brought low by their own hubris. And even though she was a robot, she couldn't help smiling.

#

In another home, a fuming little boy paced back and forth on his neighbors' end table, almost slipping on the lace doilies.

"SAMANTHAAAAA!" 

He cast  murderous eyes on the little cherub figurine now the same size and general appearance as him also standing on the table. His little pale chest heaved with indignation.

"SAMANTHAAAAAA!"

A voice came from behind him, singing.

"Baby-face... You've got the cutest little baby-face..."

The boy looked over his shoulder up at the oval picture hanging on the wall of a similarly aged, similarly sized, similarly stark naked boy lying on a bearskin rug, his legs curled up, his round, pink bare bottom gleaming in the sun.  

"Hiya, chubby cheeks!" the boy in the picture said, grinning at the other boy's bare behind. "Y'know, I'm beginning to understand what Sammy sees in you!"

The boy's jaw dropped. "Uncle Arthur???"

"In the flesh!" The boy  propped his chin up on his fists, snickering. "That does seem to be the dress code around here!"

"Uncle..." Blushing deeply, the boy on the table tried to grab up the lace doily to cover himself. It was taped down so he was unsuccessful.  "Uncle Arthur, if this is another one of your sick jokes..."

"Don't have a temper tantrum, junior!" Arthur smirked. "I didn't do it! And neither did any of the other Usual Suspects! You've been turned into a cherub!"

The boy on the table stared. "A cherub?" he exclaimed. "You mean like the cupids on the Valentine cards?"

"Yep! Or like your friend over there..."

Arthur pointed at the figurine, now a chubby lad with curly blond hair. He turned to shake his hand.

"Hi," the boy said matter of factly. "Name's Dan. Glad to make your acquaintance." 

"Great to see you again, Dan!" Arthur waved from his picture frame. Dan waved back.

"AGAIN?" The boy looked from one to the other. "You two KNOW each other?"

"Oh, sure!" Dan replied. "Arthur and I go way back!"

"Dan," Arthur gestured. "This is... Darwin or Dustbin or something... Oh, I can never remember!"

"Darrin," the boy corrected.

"He's in advertising," added Arthur.

"Great!" Dan replied. "Then maybe I can ask you for something: Can you arrange to move Valentine's Day to a warmer month?"

"I... Uh... That's not my department..."

"I mean,  who's the genius who put it in February? Look at us! We freeze our little tuchises off!"

"Sure, right." Darrin patted Dan on the shoulder, then glared up at Arthur. "Would you mind getting me OUT of this? I feel like September Morn!"

Arthur shook his head. "Doesn't work like that, guy! You're in the cherub dimension. The only way you can manifest here is in cherub form." He shrugged his little pink shoulders. "It goes for us too! Why do you think I'm sprawled out here all precious and pint-sized with this lousy rug tickling my little white tummy?"

The picture disappeared. The boy from the picture now stood next to Darrin, the same size as him. His bottom was still just as round and pink, though. For that matter, so was Darrin's. 

"Y'see? I often come to this dimension to, um, see the sites but I have no choice but to be in cherub form! It's sorta like visiting a nudist colony!"

Darrin struggled to understand. "But then how do I get back to normal?"

"Well, in a sense, you are normal. Your actual, adult, full-sized, fully clothed form exists elsewhere. This is just a portion of your being projected into this world." 

Darrin raised an eyebrow.

"You don't believe me."

"Let's just say I'm a skeptic."

"Fine, fine!" Arthur waved his hand. "Honestly, kids today don't believe anything anymore!" He thought a moment. Then he grinned. "Aha! I know! I'll prove it!"

He struck a pose, stretching out his arms.

"Calling Doctor Bombay, calling Doctor Bombay! Emergency! Come right away!"

There was a puff of smoke and suddenly another bare little boy stood there, this one stocky with dark, curly hair.

He looked down at himself, then at the world around him.

"Whuh... What... Why, this is..."

Standing behind him, Arthur surveyed the situation and snickered. "I'm beginning to see why they call this an end table!"

"Arthur!" He shouted in a posh, squeaky accent, his wee little nub waggling about as he marched over to the other boy. "Just what is the meaning of this? I was in the pool, just about to teach my nurse how to do a proper breaststroke..."

"Yeah," Darrin grimaced. "I'm sure you were more than happy to demonstrate."

"...And now I find myself dragged across dimensions and reduced to this infantile, abbreviated condition! It is deucedly inconvenient!" He blushed suddenly. "And quite embarrassing! I certainly hope Nursie isn't watching! This is not the manly figure I wish to present!"

"You look like Freddie Bartholomew," observed Darrin.

"Oh. The mortal." Doctor Bombay looked at him languidly. "What does it want?"

"I'm having a bit of trouble explaining the cherub dimension to him," Arthur informed him. "I thought you could lend your expertise."

"The cherub dimension?" Doctor Bombay sighed. "Why, it's merely a pocket universe within our own manifesting various archetypes and caricatures from pop culture at a slightly different vibrational rate than ordinary reality, causing their world and ours to intersect only under certain circumstances but otherwise remaining mostly invisible and undetectable to ordinary humanity." He sniffed. "Obviously."

Darrin's eyes narrowed. "Oh, obviously!" he said sarcastically.

Doctor Bombay ignored him. "As I was saying, Arthur, I do not appreciate your little joke! You know our powers are extremely limited in cherub form..."

"They are?" Darrin brightened.

"Of course!" Arthur sighed. "Why do you think I haven't goosed you yet?"

Darrin glared at him, his eyes narrowing.

"I thought about doing it manually but that seemed kinda icky..."

"A-HA!" Another boy stormed over, his pudgy little buttocks jiggling as he stomped across the table. "Fancy meeting you here!"

Darrin stared at him, utterly confused. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Name's Irving. Irving Bates. You may not recognize me from this angle. Last time, I was down here and you were up there!" He held his arm up in the air, palm down.  He stepped up to Darrin so close their chests bumped together. "But this time, you're shrunk too! We're nose to nose!"

"Among other things..." sniggered Arthur.

They both looked down, yelped, and took a step backward, blushing.

"Too bad," Arthur cackled. "I was hoping for a sword fight."

Red-faced, the two boys stared daggers at him.

"I'm the salesman your daughter turned into a kid," Irving explained. "As you can see, she's been at it again, with a few twists." He scowled. "A wire-hair terrier chased me a block and a half!"

"It wasn't Tabitha!" Darrin assured him. "It was... It's complicated. Don't ask me to explain." He gestured to the others. "And PLEASE don't ask THEM to explain."

Arthur huffed. "I think I liked you better when you were Billy Mumy."

Before Darrin could ask, there was a loud, distorted noise far overhead, a sound which gradually became recognizable as singing, loud and tuneless.

"Oh, dear," little Doctor Bombay peered up into the distant skies above him. "It seems the lady of the house is about."

"GLADYS KRAVITZ???"   Darren's hairless little boy chest heaved in panic. He saw her as if through a distant haze, an enormous figure in a tacky housecoat approaching them like a dinosaur moving through the underbrush. "Can she SEE us?"

"Sort of," Arthur answered. "Unless they're cosmically gifted or trained in the art of second sight, or when the energies are flowing a certain way, most humans can perceive us only when they think we're porcelain cherub figurines. We gotta hold still and stay quiet though, so we don't break the illusion." The fair-haired, nude, adorable little mite looked up at her and grimaced. "Dear god, how does anyone hum off-key?"

Darrin interrupted.  "So regular sized people can't see us?"

"Usually," Arthur answered. "Except when they can. It's very complicated... It depends on..."

"Never  mind! Quick, everyone!" Dan shouted to the others. "Pick a pose and hold it until she's gone!"

He resumed his usual stance and the other four boys quickly struck poses, watching the gigantic to them middle-aged hausfrau loom overhead like an enormous black cloud.

"Wait a minute," Darrin whispered through clenched teeth as he stood in position. "You mean all those cherub statues we've seen over the years are actually alive? And you've seen EVERYTHING?"

"Of course," shrugged Dan. "But we don't pay attention."

Oblivious to the miniature drama going on under her nose, Gladys Kravitz bustled about doing her housework, flicking a ratty old feather-duster over the bric-a-brac around her tatty living room.

"Oh, lord. It just hit me," Darrin whispered, blushing all over. "I'm stark naked in front of Gladys Kravitz!" 

"We all are, little fella!" hissed Arthur, equally embarrassed. "And we're kids now, which makes it better or worse, depending on how you look at it..."

They all struggled to suck it up, and in a couple cases suck it in, as the snoopy, hatchet-faced woman peered down at them.

"Wha... I don't remember buying these..." She picked up and examined the little figures, which looked and felt to her exactly like porcelain dolls. The boys, meanwhile, struggled to maintain their poses.  "I wonder where they came from..."

Darrin made a sour face to the others. Meanwhile, Gladys Kravitz took another handful of her pills, washing them down with a glass of water. 

"Maybe Abner bought 'em." She took her feather-duster and whisked it across the backs of the wee figures. The boys' eyes nearly popped from their sockets.

For Doctor Bombay, it was the breaking point. He turned around, glaring fiercely up at her.

"Now see here, my good woman!" he shouted in his tiny falsetto, clutching his affronted little backside. 

Gladys Kravitz's mouth opened and closed. She stared down at the tiny, furious, naked boy squeaking at her in a voice too high and faint for her to fully make out.

"I have been diminished, denuded, dwindled back into prepubescence, and now my person and my dignity has been severely and most crassly violated.There is only so much a man can possibly take! Good DAY!"

He made a swooping gesture and vanished.

 Gladys looked down at where he had been. Then she looked at the others, who had dropped their poses in surprise at Doctor Bombay's outburst. Quickly, they tried to resume them as she stared down in shock.

She dropped the feather-duster and shrieked. "AAAAAAAAABNEEEEEEEEEER!"

Then she fell to the floor in a faint.

"Good enough for her, too," growled Arthur. He turned around and bent over. "I've always wanted to moon that old crone."

Irving peered down at her. "We'd better get out of here before she wakes up!"

Before they could move, however, another bare naked boy, this one with reddish hair and freckles, ran over.

"Marvin! Boy, am I glad I finally found you!"

Darrin double-taked. "Herbie?"

Irving and Arthur looked at Darrin. "Marvin?"

"Long story. What is it, Herbie?"

The new boy stood a moment, panting and out of breath. "I been looking everywhere for you! Our team really could use your help in the big game this afternoon! You're the best basketball player in the neighborhood and the other team is murder!"

Darrin shrugged. "Sure, okay. I've got nothing better to do..."

Now Herbie double-taked. "Hey! Your voice got better!"

"Can I play too?" Irving asked anxiously. "It's been ages since I played basketball!"

"Uh, sure! I guess we can use another player or two..."

They all started climbing down from the table and sneaking around the semi-conscious, muttering  Mrs. Kravitz.

So, Herbie," Darrin smiled. "How good is this other team?"

"They're really good! They were NBA champions last year!"

"WHAT?"

"But we got the home court advantage..."

"I'll just be a spectator, if you don't mind," Arthur said, popping himself down. "Come on, Dan! I'll buy you some popcorn!"

"Sure thing," the cherub shimmied down the table leg. "After all, anything's better'n standing around pretending to be a porcelain figurine."

#

Meanwhile, a few blocks away at a community yard sale, a bemused old pro cherub leaned on his bow watching as the new cherubs on the block stood in a row, bright red on one end and pale white on the other, chins trembling with embarrassment as customers, mostly middle-aged women, bustled about far overhead.

"Gee whiz!" Beaver whined, arms crossed over his pink chest, hips wiggling back and forth slightly, struggling to hold still. "Everything happens to us!"

"Yeah!" Gilbert sulked, flexing his knees, legs crossed over one another. "How come WE'RE the ones who get stuck like this! It's not fair!"

"Gosh!" Whitey insisted, more than living up to his nickname standing pale and goose-pimpled in the sun. His chest bobbed up and down as he swallowed. "A guy never even thinks about his pants until he suddenly doesn't have none!"

"Aw, gee!" Larry sighed, licking his lips. "They got candy apples two tables over! I wonder if we could sneak over and get a bite..." 

Then it happened.

"Oh no!" Beaver sobbed, all the color draining from his face. "Oh no, no, NO!" 

Gilbert looked up, jaw dropping in horror. "Oh... gosh..."

Whitey's eyes bulged from their sockets. 

Larry thrust his chest out and did his best to suck in his ample tummy.

Judy Hensler, their schoolmate, the class snitch and know-it-all and Beaver's arch-nemesis, approached the table.  The full-sized, fully clothed girl smiled down at the tiny, completely naked boys. 

"Oh, look at those cute little dolls!"

Beaver stood, arms at his sides, trembling, his eyes clenched shut, his face burning in an agony of mortification. Judy's enormous hand reached down to pick him up.

"They're so tiny and adorable!" She laughed. "And so detailed! Why, this one even has freckles! And... Why! Is that his little wee-wee?"

Beaver clenched his fists, among other things, as his rival held him in the palm of her hand.

"It looks just like that dumb little boy from school!" She turned him around so he was facing the other way. Then she flicked his little bare rump with her fingers.

"YOW!"

Judy gasped. "What was that?"

Realizing his mistake, Beaver held his tongue. 

Judy giggled. "I always thought that little brat could use a good spanking!"

She flicked his tiny bare bottom several more times. His little white shoulders hunched up, Beaver bit his lip to keep from crying out again as he grew redder and redder on both ends.

"Uh-oh!" She giggled again. "I must have broken it! There's a tiny little crack back there!"

Clenching his teeth, a thoroughly humiliated Beaver silently vowed vengeance.

"I probably should buy it... But honestly, it's way too cheap and silly-looking!"

She plopped him back on the table, his friends looking on in shocked horror. Beaver struggled to hold back tears.

She strolled away from the table, laughing to herself.

As soon as she was out of sight, Beaver rubbed his red, stinging bottom. "Oooooooooo...."

"Judy Hensler saw us naked! All over!" Whitey sobbed. "Oh, we'll never live it down!"

"How come we gotta be the cherubs!" Gilbert pouted, on the verge of tears. "Why can't the girls be tiny and naked and the boys be normal-sized! It's not fair!"

"We'll get even for this!" Beaver vowed. "Someday..."

"Beav!" Beaver's brother Wally, also a cherub, ran over, his pale little rear gleaming. "Are you okay? What've you bunch of little goofs been up to?"

Beaver and his pals stared. While Wally was usually a teenager, now he was their age and their size.

"Wow!" Larry exclaimed, grinning. "Lookit Wally!"

"Yeah!" Whitey giggled. "He's shrunk!"

Gilbert snickered. "Who're you calling a bunch of little goofs, shorty!"

"Aw, come on, you guys!" Wally responded, reddening slightly. "Lay off!"

"Yeah!" Beaver came to his no-longer big brother's defense. "I'll bet he could still lick you, even if he is a pipsqueak!"

Wally made a face. "Uh, thanks, Beav."

"Hey, wait a second! If everyone's our size..." Beaver's face lit up. Stinging backside forgotten, he started climbing down off the table.

"Hey!" Wally called after him. "Where you going?"

Beaver grinned up at his brother on the table. "I'm gonna find that little squirt Eddie Haskell and I'm finally gonna clobber him!"

Wally couldn't help chuckling at that. Then he heard a voice booming high overhead.

"Oh, look at that little cherub figure!"

Beaver's old classmate Mary strolled over to the table.  Wally snapped to attention, arms straight at his sides, chin trembling, all four cheeks reddening with embarrassment.

Whitey, Larry, and Gilbert also reddened as they froze but they couldn't help giggling at Wally's tiny predicament. 

"Why, it looks almost like that Wally from school! Oh, he's soooooo dreamy!"

"Oh no..." he groaned, his face scrunching up as she peered down at him.

#

Some tables over, a middle-aged black man in a Hawaiian shirt and a porkpie hat was arranging his wares on a table. After looking around to make sure no one was watching, he leaned over and half-whispered into a small box.

"Are you sure about this, boss?"

"Of course I'm sure about it, Rochester!" A tiny voice peeped from inside the box. "Now hold the box so I don't tip over!"

Rochester pulled the box back and held it steady as a little head with dark hair and wide eyes poked out to look around.  His white, exposed shoulders shone in the sun.

"Ah, good!" He smiled, leaning back to expose his little pale chest and wee nipples. "Looks like a busy day. Lotta traffic."

He reached up with his skinny boy arms and pulled himself up, his naked body wiggling and squirming. With a bit of effort, he swung one leg over the side of the box, his rosy little bare bum pointing skyward. The cardboard bent just a little as he sat on the seam for a moment. Then he brought his other leg over and dropped down onto the table, his teeny prepubescent boyhood flipping up and down.

"See?" he said proudly up at the bemused black man. "I told you I could do it! I was quite the athlete back in the day!" He flexed his wee muscles.

"Well, there's one thing," Rochester snickered. "If you thought it was hard convincing people you're thirty-nine BEFORE..."

The boy did a look. "I'm going to pretend like that's a compliment!" he huffed.

Then he saw an old hand-mirror lying on its side amongst the items on the table. He started admiring himself, striking poses and turning this way and that.

"I am adorable, aren't I?" He fluttered his eyelashes at himself. "I'll bet I could give Bobby Breen a run for his money!"

Rochester couldn't help but smile. "You certainly are a cute little fella, boss!" He reached down. "Kitchie-kitchie-coo!"

"YIPE! NOW CUT THAT OUT!" The boy glared up at his associate, clutching his bare behind. "If you ever do that again,  at least make sure to get your fingernails manicured first!"

"Sorry, boss!"

"Well, don't let it happen again!"

Rochester changed the subject. "I still don't know about this idea, boss! It seems kinda crazy!"

"It's not crazy!" He insisted, struggling to drag a wooden trinket box out from a pile of odds and ends. "We should make at least forty or fifty dollars here!"

"You're willin' to do all this for forty or fifty dollars?"

The boy looked up at him.

"I know. Silly question."

The tiny boy had freed the trinket box and was now struggling to push it across the table. Rochester struggled not to laugh at loud at his tiny, juvenile, bare bottomed boss straining with all his might, his scrawny arms pushing, his aforementioned bare bottom wiggling frantically, to shove a child's trinket box a few inches.

"UNGH! It's a cinch, Rochester! UMPH! I wasn't... URGH! ...much older than this... WUPH! ...when I started out! And now... GMPH! ...I can use my years of experience... GARG! ...to dazzle..." Panting, he leaned against the box and wiped the sweat from his face, staring daggers up at his gigantic manservant. "Well? Y'wanna give me a hand here?"

"Sure!" With one finger, Rochester moved the little trinket box into position. "How's that, boss?"

"Fine," the blushing, still winded boy ground his teeth in frustration. "Fine. Anyway, I should have no trouble drawing a crowd with my act!"

"You're sure to draw a crowd, all right!" Rochester agreed. "You ain't wearing any pants!"

"I'll do some of my vaudeville schtick and have 'em eating out of the palm of my hand!"

"Sure," Rochester nodded, still dubious. "But how're y'gonna do all that and still have people think you're a ceramic figurine?"

"Because I won't be a ceramic figurine, dummy!" The boy squeaked triumphantly. He walked over, opened the trinket box, and produced a small key. "I'll be a wind-up doll! The most sophisticated wind-up doll on the market! Clockwork Jackie, the Cherub Comedian!"

Rochester considered. "Yeah, but how're you gonna be a wind-up toy?" He looked at the key and the boy's smooth shoulder blades. "There's no way to stick the key in you!"

The boy scowled. "Where there's a will, there's a way!"

Clutching the key, he stormed off behind the box. There was a pause, and then a high-pitched yelp.

A moment later, he re-emerged, the key now protruding from the boy's butt crack. It bobbed up and down as he walked back over.

"There!" he insisted. "Problem solved!"

He stood there, arms folded, staring up at Rochester as if DARING him to say something.

Rochester shrugged. "Well... Okay... But I don't wanna hear any complaints if I gotta wind you up!"

"Now set up the stage and let's get on with it before I catch cold!"

"Well, well!" A familiar voice boomed far overhead. "I always knew you were a crank, Benny!"

The tiny, naked boy scowled up at the sour-faced man sneering down at him. "Fred Allen!" His face reddened. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm not standing on a table in the altogether, cutie pie!" Fred laughed at his fuming rival. "What're you doing, trying out for Our Gang?"

The boy crossed his arms, blushing all over as he looked up at his enormous, fully dressed, still adult rival. Fred, meanwhile, looked down at his now tiny, now prepubescent, stark naked little opponent.

"Well, if you must know," the boy rejoined in his high, squeaky voice, "I'm preparing to make a fortune reviving my old vaudeville act in miniature!"

Rochester nodded. "Yessiree! He's gonna be Clockwork Jackie, the Cherub Comedian!"

"Is that so?" drawled Fred. "It looks more like White-Tailed Buck Benny Rides Again! Side-Saddle, this time!"

"Why, you... you..." The boy waved his finger up at him.

Fred picked the little squawking figure up and held his tiny, de-aged, denuded former rival in the palm of his hand, lifting him up to they were almost eye-level. "Aha, I knew you were circumcised!"

The boy recoiled at his rival's gigantic face. "Ugh! Don't hold me so close! I just ate!"

"Oh, really?" Fred put the little mite down again on the table. "And diddums finish all of his formula?"

"Yessir!" Rochester replied. "Two whole bottles! And a jar of strained peaches!"

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL HIM THAT!" the boy shouted up at his valet. Then he turned his attention back to Fred. "You're just jealous because you're still a dried-up old man and I have regained my childhood youth and vitality!"

"Oh, really?"

Reaching down with two fingers, Fred turned the boy around, then turned the key protruding from his crack. The boy's eyes grew wider with every twist. Fred watched, smirking as the tiny boy waddled, arms at sides, back and forth across the table for several seconds, the key turning. Finally it stopped and the humiliated boy clutched his hindquarters. 

"NOW CUT THAT OUT!"

Rochester grinned down at the little display. "Hey, let me try that..."

"DON'T YOU DARE!" the boy scolded. For emphasis, he removed the key from his rear. "OKAY, FORGET THE KEY! WE DON'T NEED THE KEY! I'M STILL GONNA MAKE A FORTUNE AS A MECHANICAL DOLL!"

"Hmmm..." Fred made a show of rubbing his chin. "Maybe you could at that. But you'd have to make a couple of changes..."

"WHADYA MEAN 'A COUPLE OF CHANGES?'"

Fred brushed the boy aside with one finger. "Hush up, sonny! This is grown-up stuff!"

The boy stood there, quaking in helpless fury.

Fred leaned over and whispered in Rochester's ear. Rochester looked down at his little bare boss, snorted with amusement, and rubbed his own chin.

"Well... It'd definitely make a lot more money..."

This got the boy's attention. "Money? How much money?"

Not long afterward, Rochester had a huge crowd around his table. More people were struggling at the edges to see. Stacks of dollar bills were piled high, overflowing the trinket box, the shoebox, and several paper bags arranged around his chair. 

Fred Allen sat in a folding chair to one side of the table, sipping a bottle of Coke and thoroughly enjoying the show.

As for the boy, he lay tummy down on the edge of the table, his legs dangling over the side. Over near him on the table were arranged several rulers of various lengths and compositions, a few ping-pong paddles, and some sticks.  Rochester offered one to the soft-spoken young man who'd paid his dollar. He waved it aside.

"I think I'll just use my hand, thanks!"

Recognizing the voice, the boy looked up at the giant looming over him.

"DENNIS!?!?"

Then the man's palm hit the tiny boy's squirming, already bright red rump.

"YEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOW!"

The spanking continued, the boy howling in indignant agony as his show vocalist gave him a thorough paddling. 

"Boy oh boy!" A man in the crowd cackled. "Spank Little Jack Benny For A Dollar! What a bargain!"

"Yeah!" Announcer Don Wilson chuckled. "It's the chance of a lifetime!"

"Oooooooo!" A plump man with a little mustache exclaimed. "I went out and got twenty dollars in singles!"

"We've emptied out our piggy banks!" The boys from The Beverly Hills Beavers exclaimed, looking down at their formerly senior member. "But it's definitely worth it!"

Mary Livingstone stood apart from the crowd. "I would," she commented. "But I have the feeling he'd probably enjoy it!"

"OW! OW! OOOOOOOOOOWWW!" 

The boy blinked back tears of humiliation. "Well," he whispered weakly. "As long as it's turning a profit..."

Fred Allen leaned over him. "And remember, I get half!"

The boy shouted up at him. "THIRTY PERCENT!"

"Half."

"THIRTY PERCENT!"

"I don't really think you're in a position to argue, little fella!" After Dennis finished, Fred wound up  his arm and gave the little red rump an extra-hard smack. 

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!"

Hopping up on the table, the boy did a frantic little skipping dance, clutching his blazing bare behind. 

He shouted up at his smirking rival in his shrill, peeping voice, his tiny chest heaving indignantly. "I still say thirty percent!"

#

In another part of town, mean rich kid Percy was following the trail of mayhem left by the Gang's homemade fire engine.

"Those dirty cheaters!" he muttered to himself. "Broke my new fire engine... Axle's all bent..." He wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. "Dad's gonna kill me! Jane's mad at me... Just wait'll I get my hands on those guys!"

He heard a loud ripping sound a few houses over. It seemed to come from a large hedge. 

"What was that?"

Then he heard a weird, high-pitched sound like tiny voices cheering.

"What was THAT?"

He went to investigate.

There was a rustle near the bottom of the hedge and the neighborhood boys just he'd raced against emerged, all naked as jaybirds and shrunk to pint size. 

"Yay! Hurray! We did it!" squeaked the very tiny, very bare Wally, pounding his scrawny chest and waving his little fist triumphantly in the air. 

"We won the race! We won the race!" peeped also tiny, equally bare Tommy, bouncing up and down in jubilation, his minuscule boyhood flopping nonchalantly about. "Our fire engine won!"

"Uh... Yeah..." Tiny Stymie seemed the only one aware of what had happened. He looked around, covering his crotch with his hands, his brown little bottom shivering in the breeze. "We sure won, all right..." 

Percy stared down at them in shock, struggling to understand what he was seeing.

The Gang, meanwhile, were completely oblivious to their own nudity and reduced size. They shouted and strutted, celebrating their victory.

Wally stormed over to the comparatively huge Percy. He stood there in front of him, fists on his dimpled, naked hips, the outline of his spine visible through the skin on his back, his little pink bottom flat as a board, grinning in triumph.

"Yeah! Our fire engine won! We beat you!" he shouted up at the bewildered Percy, his voice barely audible. His tousled blond head barely reached the top of Percy's sock.  "We sure showed you!"

"Uh... Guys..." Stymie muttered. "I think we're showin' everyone..."

"You thought you was so hot!" Tommy shouted up at the stunned rich kid, his little chest thrust out, his pudgy bottom jutting out pugnaciously. "You ain't so big!"

"Uh... Guys..." muttered Stymie. "I don't think we're so big either."

"Hah!" Another boy gloated. "We beat the pants off you!"

Stymie gulped. "Someone beat the pants off someone, that's for sure..."

Spanky, still full sized and fully clothed, walked around the side of the hedge to where the others were. He saw the tiny Gang and did a stunned take.

"Gee!" Spanky gasped. "Looks like someone done lost something!"

"Anyways, I guess we've seen the end of him!" The puny Wally proclaimed.

"And vice-a versa!" added Stymie.

"Who wants to ride your dumb old fire engine anyway!" He made a dismissive gesture.Then he motioned to the others. "C'mon, you guys!" 

The wee little Gang marched off,  all naked as and smaller than newborn babies and proud as peacocks, celebrating their victory. 

An amused Spanky walked behind them, watching their tiny bums wiggle.

"Hey, Wally!" Spanky shouted down at his little big brother. "Ya cold?"

Wally didn't even react. "Ah, what's that supposed to mean? Shaddup or I'll pop you one!"

Spanky grinned down at his pal Scotty.

"Hey Scott," he smiled. "How's the weather down there?"

"Ah, it's okay," Scotty replied amicably. Spanky pouted and Scotty waved up at him, smiling cheerfully. His tiny white rump wiggled extra-energetically.

"He was REALLY surprised we won!" chortled Tommy. "Wow! Did you see the look on his face?"

"I tried," Stymie replied, "But I didn't have no telescope!"

There were two girls sitting on the grass by the sidewalk. One of them was Mary, the girl Wally was trying to impress earlier.

Spanky saw them first. 

"Whuh-oh!" He slowed down to watch. "This is gonna be somethin'!"

Totally oblivious, the little group of buck naked boys strolled past the gawking girls.

"Boy!" Wally crowed, still gloating. "I'll bet he felt small!"

The girls gasped, then dissolved into giggles. 

"Oh, you nasty man..."

The boys looked up, saw the girls, yelped, and fled, ducking behind a little hedge.

A moment later, there was a chorus of squeals.

"WOW!"

"YIPE!"

"YOW!"

"OOO!"

"OWW!"

"EEP!"

All the boys emerged, glaring daggers at the cactus plants hidden behind the bush. Wincing, they turned to examine their own and each others' needle-studded bare backsides. Then they saw Spanky nearby, pointing and laughing his head off.

Wally turned beet red. "I'll get you! C'mon, guys!"

Still laughing, Spanky fled, pursued by an angry, shouting mob of naked boys less than half his size, cactus needles bobbing as they ran. 

Back at the hedge, meanwhile, Percy was finally processing what he'd just experienced.

"Why... They all SHRANK! They actually SHRANK! There wasn't a single one of them bigger than a field mouse!"

He laughed out loud. Then an evil smile crossed his face.

"I'll bet I could lick every one of those pipsqueaks! Oh, baby! I'll clobber them!"

Cackling gleefully, Percy ran into a nearby garage.

"Where's that fly swatter I saw in here earlier? I'll murder them!"

There was a pause as something shifted in the dimensional planes.

And a  moment or so later, a tiny, stark naked Percy emerged trying to carry a wire fly swatter taller than he was.

"Okay," he peeped in a high-pitched squeak. "Where are those little squirts?"

He looked around a moment and ran off in search of the Gang, his little nub wiggling, his pudgy, pale bare behind jiggling like a gelatin mold. He ran past the two girls, who covered their mouths, giggling.

"I'll get those guys!" He kept running, his little tummy going in and out, every single one of his freckles on full display. "No one humiliates me and gets away with it!"

#

And at a typical American  high school across town, there was chaos in one of the classrooms. A tiny, completely naked, rotund little boy stood on the teacher's desk, trying in vain to take charge of the situation.

"ORDER! ORDER! I DEMAND ORDER!" He stomped his little pink foot, his wee boyhood jiggling. "BLAST IT! ORDER!" Pause. "Please?" Despite his best efforts, he looked and sounded like a petulant toddler.

Two cherubs sat at their desks, watching with considerable amusement.

"Poor little Mister Weatherbee!" a red-haired, freckle-faced little cherub giggled.

"Yeah!" A skinny boy wearing only a crown-shaped hat nodded.. "You'd think a pee-wee Weatherbee trying to teach biology in the nude would at least hold people's attention!"

Now the pipsqueak principal was trying to write on the blackboard, struggling with a piece of chalk almost as big as he was. The spectacle of his furiously wiggling bare boy butt as he wrote was sparking fresh hysterics from the class.

A red-faced Weatherbee glowered at them. "You all have butts too!" This did not have the desired effect.

Archie stifled a guffaw. "He's just lucky most of the class are also cherubs!"

"Yeah!" Jughead nodded, looking down at himself, then at Archie. "So're we, I guess! It makes it a bit less embarrassing."

"Hey, look!" Archie pointed. "Weatherbee's not the only one with problems!"

 A tiny and prepubescent Moose was standing naked in the palm of a full-sized, fully clothed young man's  hand. The comparitively huge boy looked down in bemusement at the blustering, bare bottomed miniature Moose, now a pink, blond, egg-shaped mite. thoroughly enjoying the change in scale. The former Moose, however, not so much.

"What are you laughing at, buddy?" He demanded in an angry peep, struggling to keep his balance, if not his dignity. "Yeah, buddy, you think this is some sort of joke? You think I'm funny? Yeah, I saw you looking at Midge! And you'd better leave her alone, you understand me?" He squeaked ferociously up at the smirking giant, his bald little nub bobbing back and forth as he shook his fists.  "I ain't fooling around here! You leave her alone!"

The boy just looked at him, continuing to chuckle.

"Moose," he said calmly to the blustering little boy. "I didn't talk to Midge. I barely even know Midge. I'm not really interested in her."

"What do you mean you're not interested in her?" the red-faced runt shouted up at him. "Are you saying she's ugly or something? You better apologize right now! I'll give you ten seconds to apologize before I..."

In response, the boy curled in the fingers on the hand Moose was balancing on, tickling the nude little mite mercilessly.

"You... HEE-HEE-HEE! ...You better... HEE-HEE-HEE! ...You'd better... HEE-HEE-HEE! ...Okay, I'll give you till tomorrow... HEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEEE! Okay... HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE... Next... Next week?"

Archie and Jughead snickered.

"How the mighty have fallen!"

Jughead pointed down. "Looks like Dilton Doiley is doing all right for himself, though!"

They watched their nerdish classmate strut across the room wearing a smug expression, his thick glasses, and absolutely nothing else. Even as a cherub, he was somehow paler and scrawnier than anyone else, whatever scrawny bottom he had swinging jauntily back and forth.  He stopped in front of the cherub-sized Reggie, who used to enjoy giving the brainy boy scientist wedgies on a daily if not hourly basis. Grinning smugly, Dilton turned and stood with his back to the shrunken bully, arms crossed, legs slightly apart, faux-oblivious, waiting. Reggie reached out, then pulled back,  his hands clenching and unclenching in frustration. Dilton looked over his shoulder, wiggled his hips tauntingly and strolled away.

"Poor little Reggie!" Jughead smiled. "You can't give a naked guy a wedgie! It must be agony for him!"

They sat a moment.

"I guess we really should try to pay attention to Mister Weatherbee."

"Yeah. He's so cute up there."

They sat a moment, both blushing from head to toe.

"Y'know,"  Archie sighed. "I used to have nightmares about being in school naked "

Jughead nodded, drawing up his legs. "Uh-huh. Me too."

"Y'know what?" His voice quivered. "This is worse."

They contemplated their bareness and the handful of full-sized classmates, once peers, now giants, looking down at them and giggling.

Their friend Ambrose leaned over the back of Archie's desk. "Hey, Little Archie! Hey, Little Jughead!" He chortled, checking out their bald little crotches. "Bet you miss puberty, huh?"

Archie and Jughead glared daggers up at him, then tried to scrunch down even smaller on their oversized desks.

 Archie swallowed a sob. The two looked at one another miserably. "You know what else?"

"What?"

"These plastic chairs are COOOOOOOOLD!"

"Uh-HUH!"

They squirmed uncomfortably as they listened to their tiny teacher drone on.

#

Four full moons shone in the drawing room window of Collinwood, despite the sun shining brightly. They belonged to the little cherubs sunbathing on the desk just under the window, the four of them lying in a row on their wee tummies, the arches of their little rumps rising and falling with their breathing. 

David was simultaneously the most and least embarrassed among them. On the one hand, he was only a couple years younger than before, meaning he was the most recognizable. On the other hand, his three companions were not only former adults, but adults who had wielded vast supernatural power; indeed, they had terrorized him once. Now they, like he, were powerless, shrunken down to tiny size, regressed back to childhood and stark naked to boot.  Though he was embarrassed, he knew they were downright mortified. 

Barnabas, at least, was trying to make the best of it. The sunbathing, in fact, was his idea.

"Ah," wee little Barnabas sighed, his solemn, craggy visage now smooth and unblemished, his body now pudgy with baby fat. "After so many years, to feel sunlight again..." His deep, sonorous voice was now a squeaky treble and his white, plump little exposed bottom demolished all his attempts at pomposity. David was amused: Even his crack was crooked. "To feel the warmth of its rays upon my skin after being denied its touch for so long..."

"Yes, Barnabas. I'd imagine for all of us, the sun is shining where it's rarely shone before!" quipped little Quentin, his impressive pompadour firmly in place, though he was now far too young to have sideburns. This quip earned him a dirty look from Barnabas and an amused giggle from David. Well, that and the sight of his rosy, compact little backside.

David nudged the little blond-haired boy drowsing next to him. "By the way," he asked. "Do you want to be called Jeb or Michael?"

"Jeb," the boy hissed. "I've told you countless times already, I want to be called Jeb. But you insist on calling me Michael. You're deliberately doing it to annoy me."

David smiled, looking over the boy's bony shoulder-blades and pink-cheeked bare behind.

"Well, Jeb or Michael, you're just going to have to make the best of it," Barnabas snapped. 

"You were my slave once!" Michael shouted. "You were all my slaves! I was going to role the universe with my queen Carolyn Stoddard by my side! I... HEY!"

Blushing brilliantly, he glared at the snickering David, who had just goosed him.

"Oh, if I ever get my powers back..."

"You will not!" Barnabas vowed. "None of us will! We are cherubim now and I for one welcome it! I have been cured of my curse, as have both you and Quentin. No longer am I condemned to an existence of darkness, living only by night, trapped in a coffin by day, and forced to prey upon... YIPE!"

David had just goosed him too. He reddened, grinding his milk teeth.

"As I was saying," he growled. "If this means my dignity must be compromised, it is a trade I am willing to make!"

He yelped as David goosed him again.

"I wish you would stop that," Barnabas said primly.

"Well," Quentin said. "Just goose him back. He's the same size as us and just as vulnerable."

He glanced over at David's pasty, oval little bare butt. David glared at him as if daring him to try it.

"Oh, if my Aunt Elizabeth could see me now!" David mused. "She'd be scandalized! 'David! Put some clothes on this instant!'"

Michael looked mournful. "If only we could. If only we could."

Barnabas shot him a sly look. "And what would your father say if he knew you were in the company of a vampire, a werewolf, and a demon?"

"I don't know," David shrugged his tan little shoulders. "Go ask him."

He indicated the bar across the room where a tiny, round-faced boy was desperately trying to get at the brandy in a glass snifter taller than he was.

"He should be glad he can't get it," Michael observed. "Between his age and his size, it would knock him on his little keister."

"I'd like to knock him on his little keister!" David mused. 

"Hmm," pondered Quentin, rubbing his chin. "I wonder if there are any other cherubs in Collinwood..."

"As a matter of fact, there is one!" A voice came from the shadows behind the curtains. "And he is not at all happy about it!"

A boy emerged from the darkness, a very skinny, effete, rather dramatic little boy with dark hair and a furious stare. And an indie belly button.

Michael's mouth dropped open in shock, then curled into a smile. "Nicholas Blair!" He laughed. "You've certainly come down in the daemonic hierarchy!"

"Looks more like Nicholas Bare!" chuckled David.

Nicholas Blair pointedly ignored him. "I warn you... I warn all of you... This is only a temporary setback!" he insisted.  "Someday, I shall regain my proper position..."

Quentin grinned. "It seems to me that IS your proper position!"

"You wait!" he shouted, turning to go. "You haven't seen the end of me!"

This amused David, Michael, and Quentin and even rose a smile from Barnabas. 

"You'd think they would know better than to say that!"

"Still, at least he has a nice, even tan..."

"Mock me if you will! But... WHOOP!"

He turned to find a trident goosing him. It was being wielded by a bald, fiery red boy with horns and a forked tail.

"Come on, Nick" He grabbed the boy by his ear. "Back to the pits!"

The little ex-necromancer squirmed. "Ooooooh..."

The horned child tossed him back behind the curtain, where he disappeared.

"Oh, I hate cherub duty!" he whined, stomping his feet. "It's so embarrassing having to go around without my diaper..."

He vanished behind the curtain too, leaving an especially stunned little David.

"Huh?" David stared, jaw dropped. "Hot Stuff, the Little Devil?"

Barnabas was lost. "What...?"

"A comic book David occasionally looks through at the Collinsport drug store," Michael explained. "He's not allowed to buy them, though. His father doesn't approve."

David, meanwhile, was still amazed by Hot Stuff. "He's REAL?"

"Anything is possible for a cherub," Quentin shrugged.

"Huh," David shook his head. "I wonder how Richie Rich is doing..."

"Doing great, thanks!"

An oddly proportioned blond boy with hair like molded plastic was suddenly there. Another strange boy, almost identical except with dark hair and sleepy eyes, followed him out.

David was agog. "RICHIE RICH???" Then he looked at the other boy. "And...?"

"Jackie Jokers. No one ever remembers," he groused. He went to stick his hands in his pockets, belatedly remembered he had no pockets, and crossed his arms instead, sulking.

Richie, on the other hand, couldn't have been happier. "It's GREAT being a cherub! I LOVE it! Sure, I miss some folks like Mom and Dad and my girlfriend, but I have so much fun! And the best part is that no one even knows I'm the World's Richest Kid! No one even suspects! Going around like this, I'm just like everyone else!"

He turned to leave, revealing the strange 'S' shape imprinted on his bare bottom, bisected by his crack. 

Jackie Jokers turned to them.

"Don't tell him. It'd break his heart."

Then they both vanished into the shadows, leaving four very confused little boys.

Then they heard a sound, a sound that froze the breath in their little chests. A woman's laughter, light, ethereal, and mocking, floated through the room as the boys all paled considerably on both ends..

"Oh no... Oh NO..."

Little Barnabas sighed. "It was inevitable, really..."

Quentin looked up. "Angelique..."

A beautiful woman, human-sized, with elaborate blond ringlets, an elegant white gown trimmed with lace, and deranged eyes appeared from nowhere.

"So! Barnabas Collins! Quentin Collins! Little David Collins! Jeb Hawkes, or should I say Michael Hackett!"

Each boy squirmed with embarrassment as Angelique named him. Quentin fumed helplessly, Barnabas swallowed hard, David and Michael were on the verge of tears.

"How utterly precious you all look!" She laughed. "Like something from an Eakins painting!"

"GET OUT OF HERE!" David shrieked, his voice even shriller than usual. "WE'VE GOT NO CLOTHES ON!"

"I've seen naked boys before, David," Angelique answered. "And that's all the four of you are. Just tiny naked little boys."

She grinned ferociously down at them, relishing their miserable little faces.

"You've all been thorns in my side. Each of you has caused me pain over the years. But now, your grand powers and positions are stripped from you and you are all merely helpless, naked little boys!"

"T-True, Angelique," Barnabas glowered up at her as fiercely as a small boy could, all four of his cheeks blushing profusely. "And boys we shall remain! I happen to know your witchcraft cannot harm us as cherubs. You cannot renew your curse or hex us or harm us in any way. All you can do is embarrass us!"

Angelique glared at him. "I cannot use my powers directly on you, it's true. But I have another method to punish you all. One quite traditionally used on naughty little boys." She gestured. A wooden ruler levitated across the room into her hand.

Quentin was the first to realize. He blanched. "She... She can't be serious..."

David looked at the other three, contemplating the notion and fighting the urge to laugh out loud.

Sometime later, Barnabas' whute, plump little bare bottom, Quentin's rosy, compact little bare backside, Michael's pink-cheeked little bare behind, and David's pasty oval little bare butt were arranged neatly in a row facing rudely if adorably toward the room. They had been secured in place by a single ribbon of scotch tape. Their legs hung over the side of the table, kicking in midair.

They all shouted and squeaked in their tiny, high-pitched voices as the wooden ruler smacked them firmly and repeatedly on their jiggling, reddening butt cheeks. This had been going on for some time and it was likely to continue for the foreseeable future.

WHACK!

"OW!"

WHACK!

"OW!"

WHACK! 

"OW!"

Angelique sat nearby in an armchair, sipping cognac and watching with quiet satisfaction and delight.

"This... This... OW! This... OW!" Michael dissolved into tears.

Despite his own pain and humiliation, David was vastly amused. 

"Wow!" He exclaimed. "OW! Banabas, Quentin, and... OW! ...the Leviathan King all... OW! ...all getting bare bottom spankings! OW!"

Quentin winced. "OW! And if I know these guys... OW! ...it isn't the first time!"

WHACK!

"OW!"

WHACK!

"OW!"

WHACK!

"OW!"

As the four little rumps squirmed helplessly,  Quentin spoke through clenched teeth.

"So... OW! ...Barnabas! Still... OW! ...think... OW! ...the trade... OW! ... is worth it?"

Angelique poured herself another cognac, picking up the tiny, squeaking Roger Collins and dropping him in a nearby trash can.

"I... OW! ...forbid you to... OW! ...I forbid all of you to tell any... OW!"

David managed a pained smirk  "OW! Um, we have to... OW! ...go naked and... OW! ...and our bums are... OW! ...going to glow like traffic lights for weeks! OW! Good luck keeping this secret! OW!"

The boys' legs kicked frantically in the air.

WHACK!

"OW!"

WHACK!

"OW!"

WHACK!

"OWWWWWWWWW!"

#

In a small beachside home, Sandy and Bud were being read the riot act by their furious father.

"Well, we're sorry, Dad! We didn't know it was you!"

"Yeah! We thought it was some other little kid! I mean, we..."

"I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN!"

Quaking with fury, the naked little preadolescent Porter Ricks stood on the living room table glaring up at his two full-sized, fully clothed teenage sons. His freshly spanked bare behind glowed like a hot coal.

"But we thought that little girl was just spanking her doll!" Sandy insisted, trying hard not to smile. "How could we know it was you?"

"Yeah!" Bud added. "When we heard you crying and screaming for help, we came and got you!"

The cherub Porter's face burned a deep scarlet.

"Boy!" Sandy giggled. I'll bet it was the first time in years you were on the other end of a bare bottom spanking!"

"Yeah!" Bud added. "And the first time your end was on the other end of a bare bottom spanking!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Porter Rick's squeaked up at his two snickering, giant sons. "Since you find bare bottom spankings so humorous, that is what you're both going to get! Right now!"

"I... From YOU?" 

Teenage Sandy and twelve year old Bud looked down at their naked,  pint-sized, little boy father.

"Yes, from me! And I don't want to hear any backtalk!" The tiny, angry father placed back and forth, his red-hot little behind wiggling as it glowed incandescently.

"Sandy, you go into the next room and wait! Bud, you go with him and get undressed! No dawdling!"

Sandy and Bud exchanged looks. Shrugging, Sandy and Bud went to their bedroom to get ready.

"Boy!" Bud said as he removed his cut-outs. "Dad sure is sore!"

"Yeah!" Sandy snickered. "And I bet I know where!"

Presently, a now naked Bud walked back into the room. His wee little boy father had climbed down onto a chair. He looked up at his gigantic young son.

"Not so smug now that we're both naked, eh?" Porter demanded.

Actually, Bud was trying to keep a straight face. For one thing, he had started adolescence and had begun to get his pubes. There was a bit of reddish peach fuzz visible around his developing genitals. His tiny dad, meanwhile, was completely bald down there and very, very much a little boy. Both of them had noticed and Bud was struggling not to smirk.

"All right," Pint-sized Porter ordered, refusing to admit his humiliation . "Turn around and bend over."

Bud did as he was told. Each one of his chubby, lily white bare buttocks was almost twice as big as the tiny Porter, who wasn't quite tall enough to reach them.

"Okay, crouch down a little!" the mortified Porter demanded. Bud complied.

"All right, you know why I have to do this..."  the tiny, red-bottomed mite told his enormous, pale-bottomed son.

"Yessir."

"This is going to hurt me more than it does you."

He wound up and gave his son a resounding smack on the backside. There was absolutely no reaction from Bud, who clearly didn't even feel it.

Frustrated and humiliated, Porter tried again, and again, and again, running back and forth on the chair to hit one cheek, then the other. 

Bud couldn't help smiling at his tiny little father's efforts. But he did his best to be supportive.

"Ow," he said with as much conviction as he could manage. "Ow! Ow!"

Porter stood on his toes to reach the higher parts of Bud's rump, stretching as far as he could. The skin on Bud's huge cheeks barely jiggled.

"Ow!" Bud said, struggling not to giggle. "Ow..."

A long pause.

"Hey, Dad!" Bud called back. "Are you okay?"

"Mmphn mmph!" came the muffled answer.

Apparently, Porter had stood too close to the edge of the chair, lost his balance, and fallen in.

Bud blinked. "I thought I felt a tickle back there!"

He reached back and pulled his little father out from his crack, then set the tiny boy back down on the chair. 

"You okay, Dad?" He tried and failed not to giggle.

Porter Ricks was too humiliated to answer. He looked  up at his gigantic, freckled son,  who smiled down at him, his lily white bare bottom completely unharmed. Porter's own bottom was burning like a forest fire.

"Well?" The exhausted little boy demanded. "Have you learned your lesson?" 

"I guess so, Dad!" Bud tried not to laugh out loud.

"Good. Now send Sandy in!"

Bud padded across the room to the bedroom.

"Sandy! Dad says..."

"I know, I know!" came a tiny, peeping voice.

Bud stared down in surprise and amusement as his shrunken brother emerged from the bedroom. The now naked and prepubescent Sandy walked past him, red-faced, not even reaching Bud's knees.

"Gee!" Bud said between giggles. "What happened to you?"

Sandy glared angrily up at his once little, now big, big, BIG brother. "You know what happened!" He turned and walked away, his pale backside wiggling  "Some guys get all the luck!"

Porter was obviously far more effective this time. Sandy's "Ow's" were far more genuine and heartfelt. And soon, his backside was as red as his father's.

After dressing, Bud leaned against the doorframe and watched, the only one full-sized, the only one wearing pants,  the only one  with pubic hair and the only one who wouldn't need to sit on a pillow..

He watched his teeny-tiny father and his teeny-tiny big brother trying to climb down from the chair they stood on, their bottoms blazing like hot coals. 

"Looks like I'm gonna be the big man around here from now on!"

Then a thought struck him. "I could spank both of them now!"

They fell off the chair, landing on the floor. Both leapt up, howling and jumping about clutching their painful little red bottoms.

"Some other time," Bud decided, smirking. "Right now,. I might burn my hand "

#

And in his secret lair in the outskirts of Gotham City, the evil scientific genius known only as Electro gloated over his tiny captives.

"Yes, Batman and Robin!" He exulted. "I have shrunken the two of you to doll size!"

The two tiny, regressed and unclothed crusaders exchanged looks, standing on Electro's control board and shivering in the air conditioning.

Batman, now more of a Bat Boy, wore his familiar bat-eared cowl and nothing else. He stood next to his junior partner, now the same age as him, who wore nothing but his domino mask.

"Somehow, I don't think you're responsible for this, Electro!"

"Really?" The villain responded. "What makes you say that?"

Bat Boy and Robin stared at Electro, who was just as small, just as bare, and just as prepubescent as they were. He wasn't even wearing a mask. And to no one's surprise, he wasn't a very cute child 

"Just a hunch!"

"It doesn't matter!" The villain snapped. "Now the two of you are tiny and helpless! And the perfect size to carry out my plan!"

"You're crazy if you think we're going to help you, Electro!" responded Robin.

"Oh, but you will help me, Boy Wonder!" He walked up to Robin, his tiny, preadolescent nub bouncing jauntily, and looked him straight in the eye. "You're going to steal the plans for the military's new super-secret spy weapon! At your current tiny size, you're sure to go undetected!"

"Why don't you sneak in yourself? You're the same size as us!"

"BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO!" The villain marched across his control panel with as much menace and dignity as he could muster, his pink little bottom jiggling. 

Though it took him awhile, finally he reached a bright red lever that towered above him.

"Once I throw this switch, the two of you will be placed under my complete mental control!"

He turned and pushed the lever. It didn't move. He pushed harder. It didn't budge. Leaning against it, he shoved with all his minuscule might. Nothing. 

"And... UNGH! ...once you... UHNG! ...are under my control, you'll do what I say!"

He backed up, ran at the lever, and shoved. It didn't move and he bounced off, falling on his little bare fanny. Looking around quickly, he jumped to his feet, hoping no one had noticed.

The two tiny heroes watched him struggle. 

"Do you think we should call Commissioner Gordon and have him taken in?"

"Nah. I don't think he'll be much of a threat anymore. Besides," Bat Boy's face reddened. "I don't know if I want Commissioner Gordon to see us like this!"

Robin nodded glumly. "I don't know if I want ANYONE to see us like this!"

"BATMAN! ROBIN! There you guys are!" The fifth-dimensional imp who called himself Bat-Mite appeared out of nowhere, floating above them. "Wow! What happened? You're smaller'n me now!"

"YEEP!"

Stooping, the two naked boys covered themselves, looking up at the imp in impotent rage 

"H-Hey! What are YOU d-doing here!"

"Go away, Bat-Mite!"

"Awww! You're so adorable!" he cooed down at the embarrassed boys. "Oh, lookit those little pink tushies!"

"Darn it! Go AWAY, Bat Mite!" squeaked the humiliated little Bat-Boy, his little chest heaving.

Bemused, Bat Mite reached down and picked up the two furious, struggling boys. "Kitchie koo! Kitchie kitchie kitchie koo!"

"H-H-HEY! HOO-HOO-HOO-HOO!"

"WOO HOO HOO HOO HOO! C-Cut it out, B-B-Bat Mite! HOO-HOO-WEE-HEE-HOO-HOO!"

"Yeah! HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HOO-HOO! P-P-Put us down! YAH-HAH-HAH-HOO-HOO!"

"Oh boy!" Bat Mite cackled. "My own personal Batman and Robin action figures! Kitchie kitchie koo!"

"HOO-HOO-HOO-HA-HA-HA-HA-HOO!"

"I gotta show these to Batgirl! She'd think they're neat!"

"NO! NO NO NO NO NO!"

The magical mite disappeared, his two shrunken idols struggling helplessly in his grasp.

#

Some distance away in a secluded lake, two very small boys, a brunette and a redhead, treaded water naked as they watched an angry, heavyset girl wandering around on shore. She was searching the brush, looking for something.

"You're getting cold, Janice!" The dark-haired boy shouted mockingly. They were just close enough that she could hear their tiny cherub voices. While how she could see and hear them at all was a mystery to them, they theorized it was since animals could sense them and she was just barely human...

The girl glared murderously at the two pink, tiny mites peeking out at her from the water, then moved to look in the branches of a nearby tree.

"Getting warmer..." The redhead shouted, laughing.

More quietly, the skinny dark-haired boy said to his friend, "Soup, how long do you think that dope Janice is gonna keep looking for our clothes so she can take 'em?"

"Probably forever!" he guffawed. "Just watch, Rob. That dumb Janice won't ever figure it out!"

"Getting warmer, Janice...!" The redhead had spotted something in the tree's branches and he carefully and maliciously guided the girl to it. "Warmer... Yeah, you're red hot now..."

And that was when Janice knocked down the hornet's nest.

The nest plummeted to Earth, smashing and unleashing a swarm of furious, stinging bugs who headed right toward the startled Janice.  

"Uh-oh..."

She took off running, racing toward the pond, a cloud of bugs buzzing around her.

"OH! OW! OH! OH!"

Soup and Rob laughed fit to bust, their little shoulders bobbing. When she dove in the water to escape the hornets, the waves nearly drowned them.

"We better get out of here!" Rob said nervously.

"Yeah," Soup agreed. "We don't wanna swim in the same water as Janice! We might catch something!"

The two swam over to the nearby dock, climbing up the ladder out of the water. Naked and dripping, they turned to laugh at Janice when she surfaced, waterlogged and sputtering.

"Hey, Janice!" taunted Rob, his scrawny bare behind glistening wet in the sun. "Have a nice swim?"

Soup held his hand by his mouth to amplify his voice. "I bet those hornets are gonna hafta get tetanus shots!" His wee, chubby bottom pale in the light.

Furious, Janice looked around. Then she saw the tiny boys and burst out laughing too.

Soup and Rob climbed up to the deck and stood there perplexed, their tiny dinks shriveled by the cold water.

"What's SHE laughing at?"

"I dunno. Maybe she..." Then Rob realized. "Oh no..."

Soup still hadn't gotten it. "What?"

Rob pointed down. Soup looked, first at himself, then at his equally stark naked pal.

"Omigosh!"

Soup and Rob choked back sobs.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all..."

Their necks retracted and their shoulders rose as embarrassed smiles spread across their faces just before Janice grabbed them both, one in each hand.

"NOW I gotcha!" She gloated, squeezing them in her grip. "And I'm gonna clobber you two!"

"Like THIS?" demanded Rob. "You can't beat us up like this! We're too little!"

"Yeah!" Soup added. "It'd be like beating up a baby!"

Janice grimaced. Then she smiled. 

"Oh. Well, in that case..."

A little later, the two boys were running through the forest underbrush, faces burning with embarrassment, other ends burning like fire.

"Wow!" Rob gasped, struggling to hold back tears. "She spanks even harder that she hits!"

Soup sulked, his arms folded across his chest. "Don't remind me!"

Then an awful thought struck Rob. "Soup... The town Halloween part's tonight! Everyone will be there! We don't even have costumes!"

"Sure we do!" Soup answered. "We're going as fireflies!"

Their two wee little bare naked blazing backsides wiggled almost in sync as they ran.

"We'll get even for this!" Soup vowed. "Even if it takes us the rest of our lives!"

#
And at a completely different lake, two tiny boys ran down a completely different dock. Little Bo and Luke, regressed to pre-teen boys, leapt into the water; rather than a splash, they made a plink, as if someone had tossed in a pebble.

A second later, they surfaced.

"WHOOO!"

"MAN!" Tiny Luke splashed around, his little flat chest devoid of hair. "This is GREAT!"

"I'll say!" crowed Bo, his face smooth as a baby's, or his own, bottom. "We can go skinny-dipping all we want to and we don't hafta worry about about someone stealing our clothes!" He laughed. "We don't have any!"

"And you know what else?" Luke added. "We don't need to worry about ladies peeping on us!" He made a surface dive, his little boy bottom flashing in the sun.

"Yeah!" Bo did the backstroke. "After all, who's gonna wanna look at a couple of little boys?"

That was when they heard the giggling.  Looking back on the shore, they saw a Girl Scout troop, ten or eleven young girls, gigantic to them but also their approximate physical age, all thoroughly enjoying the show. Some of them even had binoculars.

Luke gulped. "Well... That answers that question..."

Bo's eyes widened. "Little girls!"

Blushing profusely, the two boys sank down to their chins in the water.

"Oh no..."

Treading water, they stared at the laughing, giggling girls staring at them 

"That's Polly-Ann Yeggers!" Luke noted a freckle-faced girl with an overbite. "I used to date her big sister!"

"And there's Frances Smythe!" Bo observed. "Daisy babysits her sometimes!"

The girls watched them, talking amongst themselves.

"Oh, gosh! They're soooooooo cute!"

"And soooooooo naked!" A laugh. "I'm pretty sure I saw EVERYTHING!"

"Oh please say she didn't see everything," a mortified Bo whimpered. "Oh please, oh please, oh please..."

"Oh, man! They look like Bo and Luke Duke!"

The boys looked at each other in horror. "They recognize us!"

The girls giggled. "Except now they're little!"

"REALLY little!"

"All over!"

The boys' faces burned.

"Real cute little tushies, though!"

Luke turned to Bo. "Wait a moment. They saw our tushies?"

"Bo's is so pale..."

"And Luke has the sweetest little dimples!"

"Oh God. They DID see our tushies!"

Bo and Luke quietly died inside.

"What're we gonna DO?" 

Then Luke groaned.  "Oh no..."

Bo winced. "What now?"

"Y'remember back when we'd sometimes come out here to catch bullfrogs for Uncle Jesse to cook?"

Bo was confused. "Yeah. So?"

"They do too!"

They turned to see a mob of bullfrogs swimming towards them. Bullfrogs generally get to be anywhere between three and six inches long. Which doesn't sound like much, unless you're a five inch high cherub.

"SWIM FOR IT!"

Bo and Luke swam frantically, the frogs in hot pursuit.  Bullfrogs generally look pissed off anyway, but both Duke boys sensed this time it was real.

Presently, they reached the shore, running naked out of the water while the frogs hopped after them. 

"I think... I prefer... Roscoe chasing us!" Luke gasped as he ran.

"Yeah!" Bo panted. "At least... At least then we have a car!"

"And pants!"

The giggling resumed, louder and high above them. They looked up, up, up to see the girls looming over them, hands on their knees, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.

"Hey! It IS the Dukes!"

"The junior version!"

"Yeah! Not a hair to their name!"

The boys somehow paled and reddened at the same time.

"Wow, they're shrimps! The guys in my class are more developed than those two!"

"Yeah!" Giggle. "But not as cute!"

"Or as bare!"

The tiny boys ran squealing around the girls' feet, frogs in pursuit. At the moment, neither modesty nor dignity were options.

"Hey!" They shouted up at the girls. "A little help here!"

They bounced and wiggled, wearing nothing but all-over blushes.

"Ah, come on!"

The girls remained blithely neutral, watching the bare-bottomed boys run in circles, putting on an amazing and incredibly humiliating show.

"Please?"

#

After a busy afternoon, Sam, Roberta, Teeny and Chrissy were walking their bikes down a shortcut through the park.

"Oh, I hate long bike rides!" Chrissy whined. "I always wind up all tired and sweaty!"

"That's because you're so fat!" sniped Teeny.

Roberta glared at Teeny and she backed down.

"Hey! Don't knock long bike rides!" Sam said. "Remember, the last one we had, we caught the Wormer Brothers skinny-dipping!"

There was a chorus of giggling and they all brightened up.

"That was classic!" Teeny laughed. "Scott, Roger, Eric and Clay, all naked as jaybirds! What a sight! Especially Scott!"

"Don't forget when we stole their clothes and made them run after us bareassed to get them back!" Roberta snorted with laughter. "I can still hear Scott screaming 'All right, joke's over!' with him and his brothers hiding behind a tractor!"

"Yeah. It was a dirty trick but they deserved it!" Chrissy sighed. "But that was a once in a lifetime experience. There's no way we'd ever catch them again..."

That's when they heard the faint, happy high-pitched shouting and the splashing. Lots of splashing.

Exchanging puzzled looks, the girls went to investigate.

"It sounds like it's coming from that old birdbath under the maple tree!"

"But who'd be out there?"

They left the paved walkway and snuck behind the trees.

And that's when they spied the Wormers, now cherubs, splashing around in the birdbath.

"Oh my GOD..." They squealed, then shushed each other.

The water wasn't that deep, even to the pint-sized Wormers. It only came up just above their knees, meaning the girls had a full view of their naked backsides and wee willies as they laughed and splashed and sported in the water.

"Omigod!" Teeny exclaimed."I saw Scott's penis! Again!"

Chrissy looked. "It's even smaller than it was last time!"

"That's because they're smaller than they were last time!"

The girls giggled. Not only had the four boys shrunk, three of the four had age-regressed so they were now all physically the same size as their youngest brother Clay.

"Hey, look!"

Roberta pointed to Clay jokingly splashing formerly oldest brother Scott's bare behind with water. Starting in surprise, he tried to push Clay away... and couldn't. Clay was just shoved back a little. He retaliated, shoving Scott, and the two of them got into a wrestling match, their same-sized genitals flopping about. Eric and Roger joined in the fight by splashing them both.

"Oh my God, they're precious!" Teeny laughed. 

Then the boys finally realized they were being watched.

"W-Whuh... HEY!" Scott turned beet red, turning and cupping his hands over his tiny privates. 

The others followed his lead, faces flushed, eyes wide, all lined up in a row knee-deep in the birdbath with their hands over their crotches.

The girls emerged from hiding, strolling over to the birdbath to look over the tiny, naked Wormers.

Scott tried to play it cool. "L-L-Ladies..." He nodded his head, smiling sarcastically.

Roger, meanwhile, was quaking in helpless fury. "What are YOU doing here?"

"Looking at you shrimps!" Sam answered. "Any objections?"

The boys were trembling with anger and embarrassment. The girls could see them shivering in the suddenly chilling breeze, trying desperately to think of some way to get out there with a shred of dignity.

"Oh yeah?" Eric shouted, his voice almost too high to hear. His brother Clay looked at him in shock.

"Well..." Scott sputtered. "Well, we don't care!" he concluded finally. "Go ahead and look!"

"Yeah!" Eric added. "We got nothing to be ashamed of!"

"They've got nothing, period!" Teeny whispered to her friends.

"Why should we care about a buncha dumb girls peeping at us!" Roger squeaked, his chest heaving, clearly not believing a word he was saying.

The Wormers then looked around, unsure what to do next.

"Come on, you guys," Eric said to his brothers. "Let's get outta here!"

Casting angry looks at the snickering girls, the tiny Wormers did their best to climb down from the birdbath bowl while also trying to cover at least their privates and maintaining their dignity,  something of a lost cause at this point. 

"You guys need any help?" Sam asked, laughing at their struggles.

"AW, SHUT UP!" Roger growled, his bare bottom wiggling adorably while he searched for hand and footholds. 

Teeny giggled. "Hey," she said to her friends. "Let's goose them!"

"DON'T!" The two youngest Wormers wailed, on the verge of tears. They sounded so pathetic, none of the girls had the heart.

Finally, the little Wormers were on the ground, tiny, naked, humiliated, and trying their best to look defiant as they looked up at the snickering girls towering over them.

"Come on, you guys!" Scott said to his brothers. "Let's go somewhere where we can have some privacy!"

They walked off, the girls exploding with laughter at the sight of their wee wiggling tears.

"Hey, boys!" Teeny called after them. "Nice buns!"

"AW, SHUT UP!"

They vanished in the distance.

The girls leaned against their bikes to keep from collapsing with laughter.

"Well," Chrissy admitted. "That was a unique experience..."

"And it might not be over yet," Sam observed.

The others were puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Sam smiled. "You know what's over in that direction, right?"

Roberta and Teeny shook their heads. But Chrissy knew: "The dog park?"

Presently, they heard a high pitched whine off in the distance which as it drew closer sounded more like "AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIGH!"

And then they saw it: The four terrified, naked, pint-sized Wormers being chased by a poodle the size of a hippo to them.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIGH!"

"Mrs. Bakersfield needs to learn to keep a better hold on her lead..." Chrissy sighed as she went to retrieve the dog.  

#

Meanwhile, Indiana Jones found himself once again Young and once again walking naked with his father down a deserted path.  There were some important differences: Most notably, his father was now the same age as he. Indy was bemused by this and also by his father's now smaller and scrawnier bare butt.

As for Indy, he dearly missed his shoes, his socks, and most urgently, his palm fronds. And he suspected his father missed his briefcase and his mustache. He was also quite aware his own bare butt was small and scrawny as well. There was also the fact they were both only inches tall, but he preferred not to dwell on it. 

He couldn't resist: "Father... Are we being skeptical, cynical, or stoical?"

There was a pause. Then his father's now much higher voice: "Junior... I reiterate... Shut up."

"Follow-up question..." Another voice behind Indy said.

  Indy looked over his shoulder to see another naked boy whom he eventually recognized as his long-lost son Mutt.

"Follow-up question: Are we feeling juvenile, infantile, or just freaking cold?"

Dad considered. "I would say all three, actually..."

Indy sighed wearily. "Mutt... I don't see what you think is so funny about all this."

"That's because you don't have the same view I have."

Indy reddened and clenched his buttocks muscles instinctively in response.

They found themselves walking past an old, abandoned house several times their size. And outside the house, they saw a green-skinned boy talking to a thorn bush.

"Aw, c'mon, Pop! Come on out!"

A slightly effeminate, high-pitched voice from within the bush replied: "I can't, Eddie! I'm nude as a nightingale!"

The trio couldn't help staring at the boy.  He had dark hair styled into a widow's peak, modest fangs, and a pugnacious build. Most bizarrely, while his skin was a strange, sickly greyish-green, his pert little bottom was rosy pink 

The boy noticed they were staring and scowled at them.

"What's the matter?" he demanded. "Ain't you ever seen a guy with tanlines before?"

The three boys hurried on their way.

"The nerve of some people!" he muttered. "So embarrassing..."

"Ah, don't let it worry ya, Eddie!" 

Another boy walked over, clapping Eddie on the bare back. He was slightly taller but otherwise quite similar to Eddie, right down to the green skin, the widow's peak, and the rosy pink bare behind. Even their wee-wees were similar, though Eddie's was slightly bigger.

"This whole cherub thing is the greatest!" he exulted, taking a deep breath and pounding his skinny little chest. "It's been years since I've felt so alive, if you'll pardon the expression!"

Eddie giggled. "You look real cute, Grandpa!"

"Don't call me Grandpa!" Grandpa insisted. "Call me Sammy! That's what the kids called me back in the old neighborhood when we used to play stickball!" He mused. "It was fun, except when the guys wanted to play for high stakes!"

"Was that when you were a kid, Gran... Sammy?"

"I'm a kid now, Eddie! As youthful and spry as I ever was!" He cackled. "If this is second childhood, I'm all for it!"

There was some loud squeaking from a few feet away. Grandpa walked over to where a full-sized bat hung not too far over his head from a branch.

"Ah, what do you know, you fugitive from a Bat-Signal?" More squeaking. "Igor, you're just jealous because I'm young again and you're still a broken down old Transylvanian winged mouse!" More squeaking, angrier this time. "I don't care if you are bigger than me now, you're still my lab assistant!" More squeaking. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING A JUVENILE DELINQUENT?"

"Well, I don't care!" The voice squeaked from the thorn patch, adding to the general bedlam. "I'm not coming out! I'm not, I'm not, I'm not!"

Eddie attempted reason. "You can't stay in there forever, Pop!"

"I can so!" The voice insisted. "Just bring me my milk and cookies every afternoon and I could be quite content in here..."

"Hhmph! That Igor!" Grandpa stormed over, his little tummy wobbling. "Some nerve calling me an escapee from a diaper commercial!"

"Gra... Sammy!" Eddie called urgently, his little bottom bouncing. "Pop still won't come out! Says it's too embarrassing!"

Heaving a sigh, Grandpa addressed the bush. "Herman. We're all naked here. No one's gonna look at you."

"I don't care!" came the petulant response. "I'm not walking around with everyone able to see my stitches!"

"Herman," Grandpa smiled sarcastically. "You're acting childish..."

"So? We're children!"

"Ah c'mon, Dad!" Eddie wheedled. "We can play games and read comics and stuff!"

"Big deal," Grandpa muttered under his breath. "He did all that already!"

"Well... Okay," the voice conceded. "But you gotta promise not to laugh."

Grandpa crossed his heart and held up his right hand. "From the bottom of my heart, and vice versa."

The bush rustled. And Herman emerged.

Grandpa immediately dissolved into laughter.

Eddie goggled. "Dad! Is that you?"

The boy Frankenstein Monster was fresh-faced, stocky and very, very short, not even quite eye-level with Eddie's nipples.  He looked up at the two taller boys. "Y'see, I had a big growth spurt in college..."

Grandpa wiped away tears of laughter. "He looks... He looks like he was sewn together from a nursery school class!" He caught sight of the inscription 'MADE IN GERMANY' on Herman's rump and was off again. Herman glowered at him. 

"Ah, it's okay, dad!" Eddie patted the top of little Herman's head. "We still love you, even if you are a squirt!"

Blushing, Herman turned to his son. "Eddie," he began, but was distracted by his own voice echoing. "Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie..."

Grandpa put a restraining hand on Herman's shoulder. "Don't talk into his belly button, Herman..."

"Yeah..." Eddie made a face. "It feels funny..."

Then Eddie brightened. "Hey, wait a second! Now I can play catch with you!"

Herman seemed dubious, not to mention mortified. "Eddie, I don't think that's a good..."

But before he could react, Eddie swept him up in his arms and tossed him high into the air.  Then he and Grandpa waited.

Eddie looked into the clouds. "Is he coming back down?"

Grandpa shrugged. "Eventually."

Then they heard someone else laughing.

"Eddie Munster!"

A red-haired, freckle-faced boy, also stark naked and tiny though his bare behind was much more pale, walked over. They were all about the same size.

"Googie Miller," Eddie said through clenched fangs.

"Hey, Shorty!" Googie laughed. "I haven't seen you since that broken down old grandpa of yours tried to turn me into a monkey!"

"Googie..." Grandpa purred, sounding dangerously calm. "I'm Sammy, one of Eddie's relatives. Can I see you over here a moment?"

He started leading him away. Eddie grabbed Grandpa's arm.

"Grandp... Sammy," Eddie whispered urgently. "What are you doing?"

Grandpa laughed. "This is the chance I've been waiting for! For years, I've wanted to punch that brat right in the nose but I couldn't because I was a grownup and he was just a kid! We're the same size now! So this is my chance to clobber that little jerk!"

He and Googie went off behind some trees. 

Several minutes later, Googie emerged and wandered off, not a hair out of place, none the worse for wear.

A quite mussed up Grandpa walked back to Eddie sporting a runny nose, a black eye, and a red, stinging rear.

"Grandpa!" Eddie exclaimed. "What happened?"

Grandpa stared at the ground. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Herman landed behind them with a thud.

#

Meanwhile in the Moppet household...

WHACK!

"Ninety-six..."

WHACK!

"Ninety-seven..."

WHACK!

"Ninety-eight..."

WHACK!

"Ninety-nine..."

WHACK!

"One hundred! Okay Pop, you can get up now!"

The very rotund, very small and now very sore little boy who had been George Moppet climbed down from his daughter's knee, fighting back tears.

"Gee, I'm sorry, Dad! But you told me to spank you as hard as I could one hundred times!"

"Yes," George Moppet nodded, his bare behind now blazing merrily. He looked up at his gigantic daughter.  "I most certainly did, Lulu. Thank you very much!"

"I hope I didn't hurt you too much!"

"It's... It's fine, Lulu..." George shifted his fat, stinging little backside back and forth.  

"After all, when you spank me, it's always..."

"NEVER MIND, LULU!" George tried to pull himself together. "I...It was necessary. As humiliating as that was, anything's better than forgetting your mother's wedding anniversary!"

"Did you get her a nice gift, Pop?"

"Indeed I did! But I never would have managed it if you hadn't reminded me at the last second! I deserved to have my pants slapped!"

Lulu sat up in her chair. "Gee, Dad! You want me to go spank those too?"

George blushed. "No. No, that's alright." He marched quickly and stiffly to the door. "I just need to go out for a little while..."

He hurried outside, checked to make sure Lulu was out of earshot, then clutched his red, stinging fanny and started wailing at the top of his lungs.  

After a few seconds, he heard someone laughing. He turned in shock to see another rotund, tiny, naked boy, this one with strawberry blond hair and an unspanked bottom.

"Tubby Tompkins!"

Tubby was still laughing.

George stormed over to face the other boy. They stood eye to eye, their bellies almost touching.

"What are you doing here!"

 "Boy, this is a switch!" Tubby guffawed.  "YOU getting spanked for a change!"

"I COULD STILL SPANK YOU IF I WANTED TO!" The beet red George Moppet shouted indignantly.

"Oh yeah?" Tubby replied. "And now I could spank you right back!"

"DON'T YOU EVEN TRY IT!" 

"Boy! It sure is funny seeing YOU with a sore behind for a change!"

"Oh yeah? Well, I..."

"Hey guys!" Someone called from the sidewalk. 

It was Tubby's gang, Willie, Eddie and Iggy, all of them tiny and naked too. Another kid was with them.

"Hey, Tub!" Eddie called. "We got a new prospective member! Scott something..."

"Scott Carey," the boy corrected. "I love being a cherub! It's so great having people the same size as me again!" 

"We're gonna go swimming in the creek!" Eddie added.

"Great!" Tubby shouted back. "Be right there!"

He turned to George Moppet. "Wanna come?"

George considered a moment. "Sure, why not?"

The two of them ran down the street after the others.

***********************************************

MORE TO COME... 

(MAYBE)