Careful What You Wish For (Chapter 19)

Cody didn’t have time to wonder what this meant, as he felt his legs transforming into liquid and splashing gelatinously into a puddle below him. The ancient brine stench rising out of his morphed limbs, a distinctly recognized flavor from just one sniff, told him immediately that Kayla was turning his body into a living fluid statue of her own salty pore drainage. Though like an ice sculpture on a hot summer’s day, that artistry wasn’t destined to last long, as he felt the infectious transformation creeping up his hips and onto his stomach, instantaneously processing flesh and bone and organs, and turning it uniformly to cloudy rancid perspiration slop that smelled of wet mushrooms and laundry bacteria. Though it wasn’t agonizingly painful to be literally melted into his owner’s foot sweat like a shrunken witch, it didn’t feel great either.

“I’M… BEGGING YOU!” Cody yelped, fearfully inspired as more and more of his body turned to liquid and poured out into a vigorously-smelly miniature scum pond of Kayla’s sole gunk. Tears welled in his eyes like she’d demanded, which he quickly realized was actually her sweat starting to transform him from the inside-out and then leaking out his eye sockets like acid. The aroma and realization of what was happening to him also had the benefit of nauseating Cody into sounding just as hopeless as she wanted. “PLEASE! I’M… NOTHING! J-JUST GIVE ME SOMETHING! I’LL DO ANYTHING! H-HELP! I’m… ggrrruuugh…”

Though Kayla had remained coldly stoic up to now, she couldn’t resist bursting into laughter once Cody’s body was overtaken by its rapid metamorphosis into ripe slippery foot-slime. His final words gave out as his jaw sputtered to liquid, and then the rest of his head, leaving him as an unrecognizable splat on the floor.

“Oh, all right, if you insist!” she teased. “Start by taking off these shoes. That’s all. Hey, even you can handle that, right?”

Kayla’s will surged through Cody, causing him to retake his regular form in an instant. Or at least he thought it was his own body, until he tried to stand and then promptly fell over again, as if his limbs were made of jelly. This in fact wasn’t far off, because even though he was shaped more-or-less like his usual two-inch-tall self, Cody’s anatomy from surface to core now consisted only of the giantess’s gummy sticky gray-spotted toejam, all fresh-picked and fused together by much of the same drippy grime and throat-clearing putridness which had just plagued his last “new” body in a much messier form. Shakily, feeling like he might fall apart at any second, he staggered toward the slope of Kayla’s right-side sneaker.

Even crawling up the shallow canvas hill toward the knot, Cody could feel jammy specks of himself peeling away – which stung as badly as losing chunks of his body should have, no matter what he was made of, but there was no time to wince or weep. He quivered his way through the pangs and took hold of the tied laces with both gooey lint-made appendages. Unfortunately, Kayla had strung a tight bow before her workout, and Cody could feel more juicy shreds of his body hurtfully scraping away each time he pitifully struggled to undo the knots, while making little progress. It felt like trying to untangle barbed wire with his bare hands. Again, however, despite the odds stacked against him, he kept on voluntarily causing himself further humiliating ache, watching repulsive flecks of his toe-crud physique crumbling away and her foot sweat oozing out of his jam limbs like lifeblood, all to keep Kayla from upping the ante.

“What’s the HOLDUP, midget? Oh, silly me. I guess you have to be a little more solid to do a job like that. Well, why didn’t you say anything? I’m right here, y’know, and I’m all ears. All you have to do is ask!” she said, laughing again at the absurd idea of Cody ever actually asking for help and then receiving it.

Just when her shrunken toejam puppet had worn his hands away entirely from rugburn against the shoelaces, while barely even loosening then, he felt himself changing again. This time Cody’s skin was made of a firm leathery substance, indeed denser and less prone to flaking away like soaked cotton candy, but he also recognized numerous discolored stamps across his figure in the rounded ring-laden shape of toeprint stains; she’d transformed him into a humanoid version of an overworn sandal insole. The fumes wafting off him – disturbingly redolent of every sweaty crook and crevice on Kayla’s feet – were somehow even stronger than when he was made of her toejam, and those gigantic toeprint marks dotting him like Swiss cheese depressions felt uncomfortably similar to brands made with a hot iron the size of a dinner plate, but Cody tried to count his blessings, at least able now to complete the first step of the massive chore that lay before him. Wrestling with Kayla’s shoestrings, he’d now made it possible for first foot to exit the vessel, and all it had cost him was having his body melted into sweat, remade, and then self-flagellated away again piece-by-linty-piece. Cody coughed all the while from the summery leather-mildew reek of his own sunken sandal constitution, and from the still-stark phantom pains he’d experienced in those previous two more-breakable forms, as he clambered meekly to the other sneaker and repeated the process.

“What, are you taking ANOTHER break? You know, if this was a real job, and you were getting paid in something other than blue balls, I could totally fire your little ass for lazing around like this,” Kayla complained. “Oh, my bad, freak! I guess you can’t exactly pull my feet out of the shoes. Not from there, anyway. Let’s find you a better angle.”

One horrified breath later, Cody was transformatively robbed of his newly-violated physiology, not only made of something else, but transported in an instant to somewhere pitch-black, muggily squalid, and absolutely crushing in a way that would’ve threatened a claustrophobe’s sanity. Though of course he was well-acquainted with this spot, knowing it after just one powerless flinch and an intake of the sourest flesh-curdled strain of the giantess’s foot raunch available: taken directly from the source, as he’d been merged with the gym sneaker’s flattened insole, allowing his face and arms alone to rise out of the sweat-drenched crater where her heel rested. In terms of physics, this was technically a better “angle” for helping her foot get out of the shoe. But especially with even fewer human features to use after being oppressively blended into that foamy footprinted flap, he might’ve had better luck trying to bench-press a car.