Last Judgement For Poorly Done Renovation Work

Last Judgement for Poorly Done Renovation Work

Baby bro! Do you hear me? I know I'm not allowed to smell your dirty socks in the bathroom, but that's no way to punish me! DO YOU HEAR ME?? I’m still your big bro!!

SO!!! Do you accept my raise? Your boss has already paid the fees, hurry up, I'm dying to crush you like a grape

I don’t accept anymore a no from you boss! Hope your bones aren’t that fragile

It always feels good to hit his hometown !

Jake and Mark were the kings of their frat house—big, brawny, and unapologetically dominating. They had the muscles, the attitude, and the confidence to match. Their third roommate, Tim, was the exact opposite: small, timid, and always getting pushed around.

The cramped apartment was an issue. With two massive dudes and one tiny guy sharing such a small space, tensions were bound to rise. Mark, tired of crashing on the couch, grumbled one night, "Man, this ain't working. We need more space."

Jake, lounging on the only other bed, smirked. "Got an idea," he said, pulling a vial from his pocket. "Found this in a chem lab on campus. Supposed to shrink anything."

Tim, who'd been trying to blend into the background, looked up nervously. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Shut up, Tim," Mark snapped. "You're about to solve our space problem."

Before Tim could react, Jake was on him, forcing the serum down his throat. He struggled, but Jake was too strong. In seconds, Tim started to shrink, his screams growing higher-pitched until he was no taller than a soda can.

Jake and Mark laughed, towering over their shrunken roommate. "Now we've got more room," Mark said, kicking Tim's tiny body under the bed. "And a new pet.

The days that followed were a nightmare for Tim. He was forced to run around doing their chores, barely able to keep up with the demands. They treated him like a toy, tossing him back and forth, and worst of all, they made him tend to their sweaty, rank feet after soccer practice.

"Yo, Tim, get in there and clean between my toes," Jake barked, shoving his giant foot into Tim's tiny face.

Tim gagged but complied, knowing resistance was pointless. The smell was overpowering, but he pushed through, scrubbing and massaging as best he could with his minuscule hands.

Mark, watching from the couch, laughed. "Good job, little guy. Maybe we'll let you sleep in a shoe tonight instead of the sock drawer."

Every day was a new humiliation. They'd play catch with him, dunk him in their beer, or trap him under a glass jar for hours. His life had become a constant barrage of their brutal games, their raw laughter echoing around him.

But the worst part wasn't the physical torment—it was the realization that they didn't see him as a person anymore. To Jake and Mark, he was just a weak, tiny creature, there for their amusement.

For Tim, escape seemed impossible. The once-small space of their apartment now felt like an endless prison, with his towering tormentors watching his every move. He was at their mercy, a prisoner of their cruel desires.

Jake and Mark, meanwhile, relished their newfound freedom and space, their domination complete. They had their beds, their room, and their new pet—life was perfect. For them, it was just another day in the frat house. For Tim, it was a living hell.