You dose Simon with DIME-53,but...

You are lying in the guestroom, trying to drown out the vulgar sounds of sex as Simon and Heather ravage each other in the master bedroom.

Simon always came over to your house because he knew you were the one who washed the soiled sheets. Usually, as soon as they were done, he ripped them off the bed, balled them up, and sometimes even threw them at you.

Simon had always looked down upon you, making boastful claims about how Asians ruled the world and how competitive they were by nature. He would arrogantly say things like, "Asians are incredibly competitive by nature, and if it wasn't me fucking your wife, it would probably be another Asian. We can't help being the best at evolution!" and "My ancestor must have been Genghis Khan; it's probably why I'm so good at filling wombs. I bet that in a few years, every girl in this town will be carrying my seed, and then I will take over all of America, one creampie at a time."

Now, you have the chance to turn the tables on that arrogant bastard by shrinking his cock and balls to nothing!

You always brewed coffee and made breakfast for them in the morning. Simon's idea at first, and then Heather agreed. She said it would build a routine, and Simon arrogantly and truthfully said, "The least you could do is make me a nice meal for taking care of your wife! Hahahahaha..."

"This morning would be different," you mutter to yourself as you pour all ten vials of DIME-53 into the Thermos and mix it with coffee.

Knowing that Heather hates the taste of coffee, you're certain she won't drink any, so you'll just have a glass of water.

As you finish up your daily routine, you see Simon and Heather coming down the stairs. Simon has his usual smug smirk, and Heather is limping slightly, taking light and careful steps. They are both naked as the day they were born, and both look incredibly dirty. Looking at Heather from top to bottom, you notice her hair, with dried clumps of semen sticking the hairs together. She gently tries to fix her disheveled head of hair but realizes she needs a shower and a good brush to get it all out. Her blushed face has streaks of dried, crusty cum around her mouth, hickeys on her neck and tits. Looking down, you see her neatly trimmed bush covered in dried and "fresh" ball batter. You can obviously see they had one more round this morning, judging by the cum rushing down her thighs and legs from her puffy red vagina as she takes a too heavy step down the stairs.

Heather cups a hand between her legs to hinder further spillage, turns around, and hastily wobbles back up the stairs to the upstairs bathroom.

"Fuck," you mutter under your breath, knowing Simon was an arrogant supremacist but did not dare speak ill of whites when Heather was around.

Being alone with him was going to make your blood boil, but you bite your lip and put on your big boy pants because Simon's glory days were soon over.

Simon is not looking any better than Heather, wearing your morning robe and a shit-eating grin, with his genitals swinging wildly with every step. You can't help but stare with fury and jealousy when you see how they used your most expensive article of clothing during last night's marathon. Your cashmere morning robe has apparently been used as a cum rag all night.

Your previously pure white robe is now a filthy off-white cream color, with blotches of lipstick smooches which tells you Heather paid homage to Simon's virility by worshiping his mopped-up jizz loads. All over his mouth and genitals are dozens of lipstick marks matching the same shade of lipstick.

Looking beneath his protruding gut, you see his pride and joy, Khan... Simon's pet name for his penis, chosen wisely, for in between Simon's semen encrusted thighs sat the essence of his masculinity.

Simon's cock and testes look right now like a giant veiny red hotdog with two blushed plums hanging low. The usual size of Simon's balls were like tennis balls but could both get bigger and smaller depending on how many times he had come that specific day. But you had never seen his balls so small, and they hung so low too. Every other time you got a glimpse of Simon's balls, they were taut to his dick, like two softballs glued to a model rocket. He could not even swing them back and forth, but now his exhausted balls hung halfway down his thigh. The few times you saw Simon's dick, you remarked it had a sickly dark yellow color, as if it was rotting, but now it looked sickly in another way. Simon liked keeping his genitals completely hairless; it made his already huge package look even bigger, but now it just made it more obviously damaged.

Simon notices you staring, and his smile widens impossibly wider.

"Eyes up here, homo! Hahahah, nah, I'm just messin' with you. What's for breakfast? I hope you made us something fancy! We are celebrating!"Feigning interest just for today, you smile at him and ask, "Celebrating what?"

"We broke our previous record. She managed to squeeze 17 loads out of me last night. My balls feel so fucking sore, and they feel so light, hehe. Is this how having little grapes like yours feels like, heh? Anyways, I hope you made us something with a lot of protein so these bad boys can go back to normal and pump your wife full of my jizz. Hahahahahah..." He laughed as he sat down at the table. You poured up the spiked coffee in the ridiculously oversized mug you set for him, up to the brim. Simon did not complain; he usually drank way too much coffee. You hoped it was the same today. While Simon waited for it to cool, you placed fresh-baked bagels and cream cheese on the table. Almost instantly, Simon grabbed for the bagels and began eating hastily, much like a pig, which he resembles.