A looming shadow causes the few errant flies to buzz away, a momentary reprieve for the pile of shit. It’s then that he realizes the footsteps and shadow are one of the same. His blurred vision picks up the sight of a large boot sole descending. SPLAT! He’s pancaked further. And that would be that, if not for the Chronivac’s attempts at restoration at that exact moment.
Cory’s already pattied body quivers and quakes as it takes on a fleshy tone. The man currently standing on him only had time to hear the squish, so naturally he lifts his boot to see what mess he’s wandered into. He’s expecting something along the lines of discarded food, maybe even a used condom. It wouldn’t have been the first time. What he’s not anticipating is finding nothing.
“Aw shit. A wad of gum.” The janitor lifts his foot further ready to pry the damned thing free, only to find a flat little patch of peach, something more like putty, covering a large portion of the toe and arch of his boot. It bunches up right at the base of the heel, thicker there, and oddly enough, seeming to wobble. He scowls in disgust and pinches the thickest part of the thing, then peels. It stretches just a bit, stuck exactly the way he’d expect silly putty to, but it’s thicker and more firm…and a bit wet.
“EUGH!” The janitor drops it, and it flops against the floor with what sounds eerily like a high pitched grunt. He inspects his fingers to find a bit of a milky, thick substance that smells oddly like cum. “What the hell?”
Cory can only moan and squirm ineffectively, face down against the dirty floor. What had happened to his body? He’s still small, and still helpless. He can feel his various extremities but is unable to move any of them beyond little gyrations that cause his entire form to wriggle. He seems to still be in the same shape he was when he was freshly stepped on poop, but now fleshen, with his face spread across his front. He can feel his nipples as two distinct entities pressed against the floor, as well as his genitals…though given the lack of pressure he has to wonder if they’re a solid, separate entity, or distended and pressed flat like his face. He feels a rush of air against his exposed asshole on his back side. It’s shocking enough to elicit a muffled yelp in surprise, and produce an instinctive shuffle as he attempts to escape like some sort of fucked up human-slug thing.
The janitor bends down and pokes the thing, right where he sees a little pink indent in it, much like a pucker. It winks at him and causes the entire object to tremble and flap as if it’s alive, and he even hears it seem to squeal. Gingerly, he takes a hold of it into his palm, trying to ignore the slickness of the front, and flips it over. There he sees the unthinkable: a human face, although a heavily distorted one. It appears to have sandy hair and brown eyes, though they’re fairly far apart from one another. Its nose is squashed as if it were up against a pane of glass, and its lips appear to be stuck in a similar state, swollen and pressed together. It even has nipped, and a belly button, and a puff of wispy hairs above what may have once been a crotch. He can’t help himself, and the janitor pokes at the pinkish area below the puff of hair with morbid curiosity. Bingo, that’s the source of the moisture from earlier. He can’t really tell if it’s supposed to be a flattened penis slit or a very swollen vagina because there’s no balls, just two spongy sort of plush lips…or flattened testicles flanking the little slit. So the thing on the other end must’ve been an anus. There’s even five sets of nails at each corner of the vaguely rectangular patty, each sitting atop a squashed little bump that may have been fingers and toes. They gently clench and unclench, along with other vague little twitches and spasms the entire thing gives off. It looks up at the janitor with wet eyes, and he can’t help but feel both a sense of pity and…a stirring, in his loins.
“Are you alive?” He asks, not exactly expecting an answer: it’s clearly alive and probably not well. The thing just flops a bit and lets out a high pitched, muffled moan.
Experimentally, the janitor pokes around at the flattened, stretched mouth. It seems to be smashed together.
Cory knits his eyebrows together in a panic. The janitors huge, calloused finger begins to push around his sensitive mouth. It takes a few moments of stimulation before the finger finds a hold and is able to spread the lips apart. Cory whimpers as his little mouth is invaded by this massive thing; it pushes against his tongue and distends his cheeks as he unwillingly nurses it. But as soon as the assault stops, it’s over, and the janitor removed his finger with a wet PLOP. Cory coughs weakly and continues to struggle in vain, but the janitor brings him closer and coos.
“Hey, hey, there there. Sorry I stepped on you. And stuck my finger all up in your— Uh..mouth. I just wanted you to be able to speak. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” This seems to calm the thing enough that it stills and locks eyes with him. “You got a name?”
“…Cory.” Cory isn’t sure if it’s a mistake to speak to this guy, but he doesn’t have much of a choice until he can figure out how to get the Chronivac to restore him fully.
The janitor grins disarmingly.
“The name’s James. Er, what happened to you?”
“I don’t know.” How could he ever explain. “Could you just put me someplace safe? So no one else steps on me?”
“Nonsense. You’re coming with me little guy.” And with that, the janitor slips him into his shirt pocket as if he’s nothing more than a credit card. He pats it, wincing as he hears a bit of a squishing sound. “Sorry, force of habit.”