“Oh, hey!” called a young man.
Dara, a petite young woman with pink-dyed hair and a sort of perky-goth outfit turned to him. He was an unremarkable sort of guy, shaggy brown hair and a fit but not quite toned build. The man was wearing baggy sweats and one of those free shirts they give away for joining a gym.
“Yes?” she said, warily.
It was never a great idea to be too friendly to a stranger you meet on the street. Better safe than sorry.
“I was wondering if you could help me with my costume for a Halloween party tonight,” he said.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not great with costumes. I’ve got a Halloween party I’m supposed to go to myself, and I couldn’t come up with a good costume.”
“Oh, come on. You’ve got a great look. Maybe you don’t know costumes, but you’ve got an eye for color and fashion. It’ll only take a minute.”
“Well… what do you need?” she said.
“I just need you to look in this store window and help me pick a costume from what they’ve got in the display here.”
She glanced at the store window. It was a floor-to-ceiling full-size display window beside the entrance of a costume shop. The stuff on display was mostly standard, generic outfits. They were all cheap and uncreative. She’d visited this store herself a few days prior and found nothing of interest. But if it would get him to leave her alone, she supposed it couldn’t hurt to make a bit of a show of considering him, then pick a random outfit.
“Okay, but let’s make it quick,” she said.
Dara stepped up to the window. It was a bright, sunny day, so the indoor lights made for a poor view of stock. She leaned close to the window and squinted at the standard devil suits and bank robber outfits that she’d seen a thousand people wear to costume parties on TV and never in real life.
She heard a faint click, and likely would have turned to see what it was, if not for a peculiar sensation that came over her at the same time. It was a warm, tingly feeling across her skin. Her clothes suddenly felt a little snugger, and the texture felt more pronounced. It was pleasant, the sensitized feeling she got sometimes when she stepped out of a hot shower. It was distracting to say the least, but not nearly as distracting as what came next.
She felt a smooth pressure against her butt and back, knocking her forward and pinning her against the display window. The slow, steady pressure continued, and before she could turn her head the smoothness behind her pressed hard enough to moosh her face tight against the window.
There wasn’t enough time to do much more than squeak in surprise and struggle a bit before the pressure started to rob her of any mobility at all. Her chest spread slightly and flattened against the display window, then she felt her midriff flatten against the cool glass. Her hips widened a bit as the pressure continued and flattened her bottom against what was behind her. Soon she could feel the same smooth pressure across the entire back and the entire front of her body. She could even feel the surface of the window in front and a similarly glassy panel from behind working its way down her arm. After a few more seconds, even her pinky was pinched tight. But… but that was impossible. Glass couldn’t possibly bend that far or it would break, and if it was flat, that would mean her whole body had been compressed as thin as her finger… No, even thinner, because she could feel the pressure bearing down on her more and more. She should have felt bones breaking and organs squishing. It should have been agony. But it felt… nice. In places like her nipples and… other places, it felt like a playful, stimulating pinch, like someone teasing her during foreplay. Her muscles burned a bit, like they did during that first stretch in the morning.
Not until she could feel the curve of her fingernails start to straighten out did the pressure finally stabilize.
~~~
The man stood with his back to the glass door of the store, his weight pressed hard against it. When he’d felt the door had swung as tight against the store window as it could go, he reached into his pocket and clicked off the power on the portable device he’d “borrowed” from some folks at the university. After the odd sensation that came along with its activation dropped away, he tentatively released the pressure on the glass door. It didn’t spring back at all. With a wide smile, he turned to admire his handiwork.
His perky volunteer was still there between the door and the window, motionless and pressed tight to the door. Someone who knew her might observe that she was maybe two inches wider than she was before, but viewed from directly behind she didn’t look so differing than she had before. He swung the door open a bit and viewed her from the side.
From this angle, she looked quite a bit different. In fact, she was nearly invisible. The door was hinged to open nearly flush with the window, and thus her whole body had been flattened into the eighth of an inch or so of room between them. He opened the door a bit more and looked at her from the front. Her nose had turned up a bit—in a cute, button-nose sort of way—but otherwise her expression was a mildly startled, blushing, 2-dimensional rendition of what it had been before the ‘procedure.’ She seemed to be adhered to the door, held tight to it like a vinyl sticker. He worked his fingernails behind her pink pigtails and carefully tugged.
She started to peel free with a satisfying sound, like someone pulling a length of packing tape from the roll. Her body had become a bit stretchy, so it took some effort to get her completely free from the door. He took his time. No one had come running to stop him when he’d started pushing on the door, and thus no one had seen that this was a real goth girl. And now that she’d been robbed of a dimension? Well, why wouldn’t a costume shop have a decal of a cute goth girl on its door?
When her sideways feet popped free, he ran his fingers along her skin. It felt marvelous, smooth as rubber but still warm as flesh. Even the cloth had taken on the shiny latex texture. He gave her face a twist and stretch, admiring how the light curved across its glossy surface until he saw the flattened eyes dart in his direction. Her pale skin blushed a bit more, perhaps in anger. Beneath his fingertips he thought he felt the tiniest shudder of motion.
“Hah!” he said, excitement in his tone. “Your eyes can still move! That’s perfect. You’re just right!”
~~~
Dara tried to scream, but all she could manage was a silent puff of breath through her nose. It would have been difficult enough to comprehend what was happening in her proper state of mind. Right now, it felt like someone was gently squeezing all her most sensitive places, which was not conducive to clear thought. Where his fingers touched her, she felt a deep, delicious warmth, and her skin had become so sensitive she could make out the ridges of his fingerprints. The way his digits glided smoothly across her skin felt wrong. When his experimental twisting brought her face toward the window, she caught a fleeting glimpse of herself, and saw the glassy sheen of her compressed skin. But even looking at herself was tricky, as her floppy head had a terrible habit of pointing her eyes in two different directions.
Just as she was starting to get a grip on what was happening to her, the man responsible for this predicament further complicated her thought processes. He started wadding her up. The places her body bent and creased felt the same pleasant squeeze as the rest of her body, only amplified a thousand times. When one of her nipples was scrunched up it almost blew her mind, and things only got worse. She started to feel the matching sensations of flesh against flesh in impossible places. Her ankle folded against the front of her knee. Her breasts squished against her butt. His hands bunched her tighter and tighter, causing the pinching and massaging sensations to grow ever more intense. Then, abruptly, she felt herself stuffed into a coarse cloth bag and hefted from the ground.
~~~
A few minutes later, the man was back in his apartment. He set the borrowed device on the table, then unzipped the bag and pulled out his acquisition. Dara had picked up a few unsightly wrinkles, so he laid her out on the bed and ran his hands across her flattened form. This got a bit of a reaction out of her, causing a bit more trembling and a half-heard moan, but he was in too much of a hurry to pay much attention. He had a costume to put on.
After a few experimental tugs at her lips, he fiddled with a dial on the device, then pulled her lips apart. They spread easily, stretching out like the ankle of a sock, but snapping back as soon as he let go. Perfect.
He stripped down and sat on the edge of his bed. Somewhat roughly, he tugged her mouth open and slid one foot inside. She trembled around the mouthful, but it felt like a warm, oiled tube of rubber, caressing his foot tightly but still sliding easily as he tugged her up his leg like a pair of tights. Before she was too far up, he slipped his other leg in, then started to bunch her body up so that he could guide his own legs down into hers.
~~~
The quivering remnants of Dara’s mind were entirely wiped away by the intensity of being donned like a literal body suit. Every sense was ablaze. She could feel every nook and cranny of his skin as it slid along her insides. Her flattened tongue slid sinfully across his body, tasting him as he essentially fed himself to her flattened form. Her stretched-tight ears vibrated with the rubbery stretching and high-pitched squeaking of her flattened skin against itself and over his body. Her eyes, treated her to a kaleidoscope of light and color as her head flopped and twisted about. And her nose steadily filled with the scent of his body. Her already stretched body grew taut around him as he started to fill her. His thicker legs and broader chest drew her snug as a second skin over his body, and she felt a curious sense of satisfaction, like one gets after a particularly filling meal. Until now she’d been fighting with the sensations, trying to draw together enough of her mind to work out how to get out of this predicament. Once he started running his hands over her body, flattening out the wrinkles, she took a moment to bask in the wonderful sensations.
~~~
He finished suiting up and looked in the mirror. In a way, the outfit was perfect. Her skin tone had completely replaced his, and still had the perfectly glossy look that he felt added to the “costume’s” overall look. But the shape was all wrong. He basically looked like he’d painted his body to match hers and squeezed on some rubber clothes to match her outfit. If not for the lips drooling slightly around his neck and the head that lay scrunched back like a disused hood behind him, he might well have just bought a body suit. That wouldn’t do at all.
He tweaked one of the knobs on it and the sensation in his body grew stronger. He felt her body tighten around him and watched in satisfaction as his legs and arms squeezed thinner. He saw his waist narrow to match her trim physique and even felt pressure on his shoulders pulling him down to her height. Within a few moments he was just an oddly large male head sticking out of an almost perfectly stored, rubbery rendition of Dara’s spunky self.
A quick, squeaky tug pulled her head over his like a hood. He couldn’t see a thing, but he fumbled for his phone on the end table and snapped a selfie.
“Perfect!” he squealed, once he’d pulled his head free from her mouth again. “I’ll show up at the party, make a grand entrance with the head in place, then do the rest of the party with it pulled back unless people want pictures with me. And people will want pictures with the winner of the costume contest.”
He glanced down.
“Oh… well that’s not going to work.”
The sensation of her smooth, moist insides sliding all over his body had produced a visible… distortion under the rubbery skirt that was still plastered against her thighs.
“I’ll just feather the settings a bit more until that’s not quite so pronounced.”
He reached over to make the change, but no unused to the slender, feminine fingers he had now, he over turned the knob. The stretchy flesh wrapped around him tightened down with punishing force and the lips around his neck started to squeeze at his neck.
~~~
The instant he touched the knob, she felt the firm form inside her body become a good deal more yielding. At the same time, she felt her squished muscles regain a measure of their mobility. Rather than let this opportunity slip away, she quickly squeezed every muscle she could. His body compacted as easily as hers had, squeezing down from a body-filling core that stretched every piece of her to something a lot closer in size and shape to the digestive system that had served as his entry point. His arms were forced back down hers, bunching up alongside his torso inside what turned out to be her stomach. His legs joined them squashed easily by the body that was stretched so tightly until now.
“No, no!” he yelped.
She could feel his throat vibrate against her tongue as her suckling and swallowing started to draw his head down between her lips. She gulped and slurped hungrily, her stretched lips flipping up over his mouth to silence him and her head slipping up over his forehead to give her a perfect view in his mirror. His terrified eyes vanished as her lips slid shut. Then a good, firm swallow sent his head sliding down her throat as a subtle bulge.
Dara looked in the mirror to see what had been made of her. Her skin and clothes were still shiny and smooth, but her limbs and head were back to their proper shape. She had to shake her head a bit before her pigtails popped back to a glossy approximation of their former appearance. Her belly was another matter. It wasn’t so swollen that one would guess it contained a full-grown man, but it was a taut, spherical potbelly. For the life of her, she looked pregnant. And the baby was really kicking.”
“I should figure out how to let you out. That’d be the right thing to do,” she said, stroking her fingers squeakily over her squirming belly. “But you tried to make me a costume, and there’s nothing right about that… And I do have a costume party to go to… I don’t know exactly what sort of a costume a shiny, smooth, pregnant version of myself counts as, but it’s sure a unique one. So come on.”
She gave her belly a slap and was rewarded with renewed struggling.
“You’re going to be my prop.”
She looked about for her purse and found it stuck to the back of her leg like a tattoo. Once she’d peeled it free, she stuffed his mysterious device inside, grabbed a few penalty dollars from his wallet to pay for a taxi, and strutted out of his apartment, certain she was going to make quite an impression that night.