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by Spudd Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Interactive · Fantasy · #1664003
Finding a Shrinking/Transformation gun is not all that fun when its you thats changed.
This choice: tapes you to his drum peddle  •  Go Back...
Chapter #3

tapes you to his drum peddle

    by: Stoic Titan Author IconMail Icon
"Brad, where are you taking me?" You ask, but your giant friend continues to ignore you as he walks back into his room. He sits down at his drums and reaches over to his nearby desk. From the tight grip of his fist, you see his other hand swinging over with a piece of tape between his fingers.

"That piece of silly putty felt pretty good under my foot," Brad says with a grin, looking down at you with a glint in his eye. He presses the sticky tape to your stomach and then begins to lean forward. "And I bet you will, too!"

You look up at your giant friend, confused, but his grin only widens as you realize what he's doing. Sure enough, he's lowered you down toward the peddle for his bass drum, and you feel the cool plastic against your pack as he smooths out the tape with your fingers. Your stuck fast, no amount of struggling looks like it will free you. "Brad, wait!"

Brad didn't wait. He ignored you and you heard the crackle of his drum sticks against one another. Then he started warming up a bit, and you saw his giant bare foot slide over near you, tapping in time with his drumming. In a second, you know, that same huge foot was going to be tapping on you. The drumming completely drowned out your pleas as your towering buddy kept warming up, until finally it all stopped.

He leered down at you, "Okay, ready."

And then his smug face disappeared behind the bare sole of his big, bare foot, his long toes wiggling. And then his foot lowered, the warm, smelly flesh molding around you. You heard the muffled sound of the bass as he pressed down, testing, feeling your body flatten out underneath him. You also heard Brad's distant "cool," it sounded like he was in another room. No doubt he loved the feeling of his bug-sized friend smooshing under his foot.

And that was it. Brad treated you like just another piece of his drum kit, his foot pounding you flat as he practiced. Sometimes he'd press down so often that you were paper thin against the pedal, your gummy form stretched from Brad's heel to under his toes. Other times you'd start reform up into the soft, smelly flesh, only to have his foot crash down on you again.

After what seemed like hours, Brad's foot started to lift off of you, your body sticking to it for a moment as you peeled off, the tape holding you against the peddle...

You have the following choices:

*Noteb*
1. Brad has more ideas for you...

2. Brad wants to play with the remote more...

3. Brad was interrupted by someone...

*Noteb* indicates the next chapter needs to be written.
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