Spicing Things Up (Chapter 6)

Seeing Ashley’s scowling visage get further and further away while Shelley marched out to her car, holding her six-inch-tall victim in one hand and the device in the other, Cody’s pulse stampeded. In theory, he knew he should’ve felt safer going into his friend’s possession for an afternoon of “training.” Even though she apparently had zero sympathy for the lust-driven dilemma he’d gotten himself into, and seemed keen to take advantage of his powerlessness (plus all the obscenely personal information she now knew of him), he at least trusted her not to permanently damage him. The way things were going currently with Ashley, on the other hand, his fiancé might just tire of his incompetence as a slave and shrink him down to a size more easily crunched like a cheerio beneath her big toepad, expecting to simply wash him away and then buy herself a new sole-sucking pet humanoid the next time she was out and about.

Still, considering how Shelley had settled so quickly into the reality of this situation, dropping her sweltering feet right back on his ottoman-melded face after hearing his sorrowful cry for aid, and then even manipulating Ashley into surrendering him for a while, Cody didn’t expect the girl to soften toward him anytime soon. His guess proved correct almost immediately when, locking the door, Shelley began feverishly tinkering with the transmogrifier, a look of determined zeal in her eyes. Next she kicked off those post-workout flip-flops and shoved her hand into one of her recently sweat-boxed sneakers still resting on the seat, grappling and then withdrawing the utterly drenched flap of her abused insole. Cody guessed it had once been pure white, but the warped foaminess been turned a smoky gray by repeated and pounding usage, then outright charcoal-black under the dented impressions of her toeprints, heel, and the ball of her foot. When she held it closer to the six-inch man squirming in her opposite fist, he could see the shine of dormant sweat still souped into the absorbent fabric like a kitchen sponge, and could smell its grotty sting even better.

“You know, I was going to offer to let you pick where you want your face to come out of when I merge you with this nasty thing in a second, Cody…” Shelley muttered, while still prodding at the device’s settings. “…but to be totally honest with you, just like you were honest with me in there, I’ve barely ever used one of these things before. Which means I can’t exactly guarantee how well it’ll work. So maybe instead of making promises, I should just go ahead and pull the trigger, mix you in with my poor little sweat-rag of an insole, and see what actually happens, before I stick you back in my shoe where you belong?”

All this, Shelley said with the same upbeat conversational enthusiasm that made her such a good teacher. Meanwhile, Cody felt like he’d had the wind punched out of his lungs. It was unsettling enough before when most of his human form was robbed of him and replaced by an object meant for propping up one’s feet, but now Shelley was talking about fusing his being with the most disgusting odor-entrenched perspiration-disintegrated item she had at her disposal now. He’d seen the way she threw herself fully into those CrossFit workouts, often literally when jumping atop boxes and dropping out of pull-ups, and her feet really took a beating. To imagine having his shrunken self now unite with that flattened foam slip so often trapped between shoe structure and feminine arch, a shape which existed exclusively for Shelley’s toejam-ravaged soles to violently compact, malform like putty, and tattoo with her saltwater stench, he just about turned green.

“Sh-Shelley, you… can’t be serious!” Cody practically wailed.

“Oh, I absolutely am serious,” Shelley said, while promptly pressing Cody face-down into the oblong mattress of her insole. “This was actually the first thing I thought of doing with you, as soon as you told me that this whole thing was all your fault. It just seems… fitting.”

“PLEASE! This is crazy. Y-You said you didn’t even know if it would work! And oh my God, it smells so-”

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me how bad my shoes stink! Only, you might want to save your complaining for when you’re actually a smushed-together little monster and my foot is pressing you down good and hard, because it’s probably going to be a lot worse than it is right now. Okay, you gross little runt, try not to move too much while I do this. But maybe cross your fingers for luck.”

“Shelley!”

The device clicked and Cody melted into the insole. Thankfully it didn’t hurt, and his brain seemed to skip a few frames, such that he couldn’t even judge exactly where his human body began and the ratty slime-grayed oval ended, but in the next second, he wasn’t feeling his features smothered down into the flaking dampness, but instead looking upward at Shelley. Again all recognizable organic sensations except those in his face had vanished, restricting him into the tactile yet somehow lifeless feeling of the gritty rounded slab, which bent limp in the girl’s grasp. Right away Cody perceived the volume of sole pore fluid both old and new ingrained into his very fibers. It itched like hell, made all the worse by his lack of limbs giving him no way to relieve the juicy irritation, but the feeling of being soaked back-to-front was usurped for sheer discomfort by the vulgar concentration of musk steaming out of what was now most of his body.

“Good news, it worked!” Shelley cheered, while slotting her speechless and deathly-humiliated insole-friend right into the sneaker. Instantly the heat and humidity, not to mention the wallop of that viscid odor, tripled. “Don’t worry about not having any other parts of “you” besides your face. Like your dick, for example. I did that on purpose. We definitely don’t want you to actually enjoy this too much, and besides, I gave Ashley my word that I’d whip you into being a much better slave by the time you go back to her. And you should know by now that I always keep my word, Cody.”