Taskrabbit TF Part 1

Taskrabbit TF Part 1

Took two weeks to get this big lumbering redneck on Taskrabbit. I kept shooting out calls for strong guys to do heavy physical labor. Most of the guys who responded were sturdy athletic-looking guys, but they weren’t what I was after: a big old mountain-man strong genetic oaf. This guy had the goods.

He looked around when he showed up. “What you want me to lift?” he asked. “Got Something you want me to move?” I just stared at him, sizing him up while the silence grew uncomfortable. He flexed his upper body. “I can flip your car if you want. Wouldn’t be nothing to me,” he smirked.

“I need you to skim my pool,” I said. I had prepped it earlier, testing the chemical levels every hour to make sure it was perfect by the time Gigantor here showed up.

The big redneck just stroked his beard. “For real? Thought you needed heavy lifting done.”

“Skim the pool, you get $1000.” I produced cash and his eyes lit up. He snatched it from my hand, then examined it suspiciously.

“That’s it?” he asked. When I let him pocket the money, he perked up. “Wow man. Where’s the pool?”

He stripped off his sweaty tank top and hopped right in the pool. “Feels good. It’s hot as hell out today!” The chemicals took effect almost immediately. As he lumbered around, skimming up leaves and dead bugs, his bulky frame slowly reduced. A few minutes in, his pants slid off his much smaller body. Embarrassed, he dunked his head underwater to snatch them up. When he came up, his beard was gone. His face looked softer and more feminine.

“How’s the water feel?” I asked. He looked around, disoriented.

“It feels... weird.” His voice was high and feminine. His eyes widened as he heard it. He examined his slender fingers, letting his shorts just fall off now. “What was I just doing?”

“I think you’re done in there,” I said. He stumbled from the water, holding his waterlogged shorts in his hand. He was a good foot shorter than me now, his body only about a hundred and twenty pounds. If I were to estimate, I’d say he lost a foot and a half in height and two-hundred pounds.

His tank top, which had fit snugly when he walked in, hung on him like a dress now. He held up his now-massive shorts. “Are these mine? I feel like they are, but...”

“That’s silly,” I said. “Those wouldn’t fit you in a million years.” He left in a daze, flipping the thousand dollars in his hand. When he got to his truck, he awkwardly climbed into the driver’s seat. He looked like a child behind the wheel, clearly nervous to be driving a vehicle that was way too big for him.

As he drove away, I wondered how he would fee showing up to his heavy-lifting jobs for the rest of the day. At least he had the thousand dollars.

And I had all of his size, all of his masculinity, drained away into the waters of my pool. I couldn’t wait to put it to use.

PART 1

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Part 1

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