"Yeah! It's the latest in tiny living. This compacts all of the amenities of a full bath into a half bath!" she said. "That's why the bedrooms are so big, even though this is an apartment. It's why you were able to move in even though I already had a roommate."
He glanced at the walls of the bathroom. They were like something out of a star ship, all brushed metal and chrome. There was a fancy toilet and a sink... but that seemed to be it.
"Um, Melanie? What about the shower?" he asked.
"It's right there!" she said, excitedly pointing at a small glass box tucked underneath the sink.
He looked at it doubtfully. The box was maybe one cubic foot. How exactly that could be a shower was beyond his imagination.
"Uh..." he said.
"I'll show you, silly!" she said. "Stand back."
They both stepped outside the doorway of the room and Melanie flipped up the cover on what at first he thought was a light switch. It had a simple knob, one setting marked "Half-Bath," and the other marked "Deluxe Shower." She clicked the dial and they watched through the doorway as the lights blinked twice and the technology sprung into action.
The sink and the counter it was installed in receded into the wall with a smooth click. Then the glass box expanded, first upward until it reached the ceiling, then forward and back until it reached the near and far walls, and finally forward until it filled half the room. When it was done expanding, the sink head re-emerged from the wall, now at the appropriate height for a shower head, and the controls popped out of the wall below it. The last thing to happen was a small door slipping aside, right where the medicine cabinet was, revealing the shampoo and other toiletries. Just like that, the room had a luxurious, spacious shower.
"Amazing!" he said.
"Yep! The whole thing self-cleans every time it packs away again, so it's really convenient."
"I can imagine. It seems like this apartment will work out great for us!"
~~~
Over the next few weeks, Deacon and Melanie got settled sharing the rest of the apartment with her long-time roommate Debbie. It was a little bit of an adjustment for them, as they'd had plenty of time to get used to each other's quirks and habits, but Deacon was only just beginning to pick up on them. Worse, while they both had pretty standard 9-to-5 jobs, he started work at 5 am and thus had an earlier bedtime and a MUCH earlier morning routine. Fortunately, he'd gotten pretty good at getting out of bed, working his way through breakfast, and getting ready for work, all without waking them.
He was running a little late one day, and thus was rushing through his morning shower, when he heard the bedroom door click open.
"Aw. I must be stepping on her morning routine now. Gotta remember not to hit snooze too many times again," he said, finishing up with his body wash and stuffing it back in the recessed cubbyhole.
He'd barely gotten his fingers free when he heard first a click near the door, then a click in the cubbyhole. The door slid shut, the shower shut off, and the controls slipped into the wall.
"... Uh oh..." he muttered.
The shower head popped out of view and instantly one of the walls started to slide toward him. He turned and tried to push the shower door open, but it was already secured, so all he could do was press his hands against the glass wall as it backed him against the tiles behind him. It stopped moving only after it had sandwiched him snuggly, his chest and belly pressed flat against the smooth glass. The shower that had been large enough for two now suddenly was one foot wide, which was just a tad narrower than he was. Or at least, than he used to be.
Deacon huffed and heaved at the wall, but it didn't budge. What did budge were the walls to his left and right. Without warning, the slid inward, striking him firmly on the arms and squeezing them tight to his sides. They continued inward, compacting his shoulders and hips. The pressure was incredible, but somehow as his body squeakily flattened against the smooth glass on all four sides, he didn't feel any pain. It was kind of nice, in a weird way, his soapy body squeezing and sliding on the glass as it squished. He was particularly aware of his manhood, which was now pinned tight between his belly and the glass wall. The squeezing, pinching sensation was... distracting to say the least. It reminded him a bit of those fancy roller-based massage chairs, much more vigorous and constant, and everywhere except his feet and his face.
Wait...
He looked up and promptly encountered the descending ceiling. His startled face flattened, and then the two-dimensional pressure that was pressing in from all other sides became a three-dimensional, full body squeeze. He felt his whole body telescope inward, legs squashing and oozing to fill the available space. Face flattening with a startled *mmph*. Every nerve in his body was suddenly pulling double and triple duty. As his body packed tighter and tighter, the nerve density crept higher and higher. As the walls approached their final measurements, they started to shudder to a stop. Every vibration felt like it was buzzing through his while body.
The shower finished compacting itself, and thus him. He tried to move, but he was held vice-tight on all sides. All he could manage was a quiet whimper and a few odd squeaks and wriggles.
The door to the bathroom slid open and a bleary eyed Melanie stumbled in.
"Stupid Debbie, leaving the bathroom in shower mode..." she muttered, obviously still half asleep.
Deacon only caught glimpses of her as she entered, as his face made up the top face of the cube and thus most of his view was dominated by the underside of the sink now. But she was in her nightie, and as usual, she was sans panties (she liked to sleep in the nude, and he didn't mind one bit.)
She fiddled with the tie of her nightie and made ready to hang it on the hook beside the sink, but she paused.
"... That's Deacon's robe. And towel. He never leaves them in here... Deacon!?" she yelped.
A moment later, his view filled with her embarrassed and adorably anxious face.
"Omigosh! I'm so sorry!" she cried.
She scrambled out of view, then he heard a resounding click and things in the bathroom began to slide again. One by one, the fixtures vanished. The glass pressed against his face began to lift away, but he'd been so squished by it, the suction briefly caused him to follow it, causing the rest of his body to squeak and skid along the glass walls. He briefly hoped that meant he was springing back to size, but his feet popped free of the floor and followed him. More pressingly, his very tightly packed package rode along, squicking and squidging along, driving him his hyper-sensitive body berserk.
His mind only returned to something resembling coherent thought when the other walls peeled away from him and he plopped down, wobbling and bouncing across the shower floor like a lump of rubber.
Melanie dashed in, nearly slipping on the still damp floor, and crouched to cradle him in her arms.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Huhhhh-uhhhh," he moaned, eyes rolled back and face beet red.
Her fingers, and the way she'd hugged him to her chest... The warmth of her skin... He could feel it all so intensely. It was almost more than he could stand.
"That... sort of sounded like a happy sound," she said, some of the anxiety easing away and a smirk coming to her face.
"You feel so smooth now..." she said, marveling at his texture. "Nice and clean, too."
She flipped him forward and saw that one part of him was trying its very best to return to its proper shape. His penis, which had been squished until it nearly filled the front face of the cube his body had become, was bulging a bit, each throb teasing at its former depth.
"Well well well..." she said. "Clean body, dirty mind, huh?"
She squeezed him to her chest again, deliberately mashing his malleable body against her nipples.
"Seems like getting squished is a good reason to call in sick. Maybe you and I could have some fun before..."
There was a click at the door and the shower door sealed. Melanie's eyes opened wide as she realized Debbie must have gotten up. And if she'd made the same mistake...
The wall slid up, bumping her from behind. She lost grip of Deacon, causing him to wobble to place on the ground, between her legs as her boobs squashed against the back wall. She squealed in dismay and held her hands out to the side, but when the front and back walls slid in, they easily squished them against her body and squeezed her legs tight against the cube between her feet.
Like her boyfriend, she looked up to encounter the ceiling, and at the same time was learning just how pleasant--if shocking--this experience was. Her butt squeaked down behind her, her nipples squealed down in front of her, and once her body ran out of room and she started to squish downward, her groin pressed down hard on her cubed boyfriend's upturned face.
She gasped and blushed as she felt the warmth of his skin and the quiver of her lips against her sex. The pair of them mashed tighter and tighter, her body squeezing down into half the space his once had occupied, and forcing him to do the same. Glass walls strained and quivered around them, strumming both of their supercharged bodies to new heights, and then finally became still.
Melanie couldn't speak. She couldn't moan. She couldn't even blink. All she could do is blush profusely and fixate on the magnificent sensations of her boyfriend using every micron if his own limited motion to twitch against her womanhood in a way that could only have been on purpose. And it felt so good...
He was running a little late one day, and thus was rushing through his morning shower, when he heard the bedroom door click open.
"Aw. I must be stepping on her morning routine now. Gotta remember not to hit snooze too many times again," he said, finishing up with his body wash and stuffing it back in the recessed cubbyhole.
He'd barely gotten his fingers free when he heard first a click near the door, then a click in the cubbyhole. The door slid shut, the shower shut off, and the controls slipped into the wall.
"... Uh oh..." he muttered.
The shower head popped out of view and instantly one of the walls started to slide toward him. He turned and tried to push the shower door open, but it was already secured, so all he could do was press his hands against the glass wall as it backed him against the tiles behind him. It stopped moving only after it had sandwiched him snuggly, his chest and belly pressed flat against the smooth glass. The shower that had been large enough for two now suddenly was one foot wide, which was just a tad narrower than he was. Or at least, than he used to be.
Deacon huffed and heaved at the wall, but it didn't budge. What did budge were the walls to his left and right. Without warning, the slid inward, striking him firmly on the arms and squeezing them tight to his sides. They continued inward, compacting his shoulders and hips. The pressure was incredible, but somehow as his body squeakily flattened against the smooth glass on all four sides, he didn't feel any pain. It was kind of nice, in a weird way, his soapy body squeezing and sliding on the glass as it squished. He was particularly aware of his manhood, which was now pinned tight between his belly and the glass wall. The squeezing, pinching sensation was... distracting to say the least. It reminded him a bit of those fancy roller-based massage chairs, much more vigorous and constant, and everywhere except his feet and his face.
Wait...
He looked up and promptly encountered the descending ceiling. His startled face flattened, and then the two-dimensional pressure that was pressing in from all other sides became a three-dimensional, full body squeeze. He felt his whole body telescope inward, legs squashing and oozing to fill the available space. Face flattening with a startled *mmph*. Every nerve in his body was suddenly pulling double and triple duty. As his body packed tighter and tighter, the nerve density crept higher and higher. As the walls approached their final measurements, they started to shudder to a stop. Every vibration felt like it was buzzing through his while body.
The shower finished compacting itself, and thus him. He tried to move, but he was held vice-tight on all sides. All he could manage was a quiet whimper and a few odd squeaks and wriggles.
The door to the bathroom slid open and a bleary eyed Melanie stumbled in.
"Stupid Debbie, leaving the bathroom in shower mode..." she muttered, obviously still half asleep.
Deacon only caught glimpses of her as she entered, as his face made up the top face of the cube and thus most of his view was dominated by the underside of the sink now. But she was in her nightie, and as usual, she was sans panties (she liked to sleep in the nude, and he didn't mind one bit.)
She fiddled with the tie of her nightie and made ready to hang it on the hook beside the sink, but she paused.
"... That's Deacon's robe. And towel. He never leaves them in here... Deacon!?" she yelped.
A moment later, his view filled with her embarrassed and adorably anxious face.
"Omigosh! I'm so sorry!" she cried.
She scrambled out of view, then he heard a resounding click and things in the bathroom began to slide again. One by one, the fixtures vanished. The glass pressed against his face began to lift away, but he'd been so squished by it, the suction briefly caused him to follow it, causing the rest of his body to squeak and skid along the glass walls. He briefly hoped that meant he was springing back to size, but his feet popped free of the floor and followed him. More pressingly, his very tightly packed package rode along, squicking and squidging along, driving him his hyper-sensitive body berserk.
His mind only returned to something resembling coherent thought when the other walls peeled away from him and he plopped down, wobbling and bouncing across the shower floor like a lump of rubber.
Melanie dashed in, nearly slipping on the still damp floor, and crouched to cradle him in her arms.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Huhhhh-uhhhh," he moaned, eyes rolled back and face beet red.
Her fingers, and the way she'd hugged him to her chest... The warmth of her skin... He could feel it all so intensely. It was almost more than he could stand.
"That... sort of sounded like a happy sound," she said, some of the anxiety easing away and a smirk coming to her face.
~~~
Now that the initial shock had worn off, Melanie looked her abbreviated boyfriend over. He was pretty much a perfect cube, only a bit larger than the one cubic foot of the collapsed shower. His surface was glossy-smooth, but still warm. It had a rubbery yield to it, twitching and forming goosebumps as she grazed her fingers squeakily across it."You feel so smooth now..." she said, marveling at his texture. "Nice and clean, too."
She flipped him forward and saw that one part of him was trying its very best to return to its proper shape. His penis, which had been squished until it nearly filled the front face of the cube his body had become, was bulging a bit, each throb teasing at its former depth.
"Well well well..." she said. "Clean body, dirty mind, huh?"
She squeezed him to her chest again, deliberately mashing his malleable body against her nipples.
"Seems like getting squished is a good reason to call in sick. Maybe you and I could have some fun before..."
There was a click at the door and the shower door sealed. Melanie's eyes opened wide as she realized Debbie must have gotten up. And if she'd made the same mistake...
The wall slid up, bumping her from behind. She lost grip of Deacon, causing him to wobble to place on the ground, between her legs as her boobs squashed against the back wall. She squealed in dismay and held her hands out to the side, but when the front and back walls slid in, they easily squished them against her body and squeezed her legs tight against the cube between her feet.
Like her boyfriend, she looked up to encounter the ceiling, and at the same time was learning just how pleasant--if shocking--this experience was. Her butt squeaked down behind her, her nipples squealed down in front of her, and once her body ran out of room and she started to squish downward, her groin pressed down hard on her cubed boyfriend's upturned face.
She gasped and blushed as she felt the warmth of his skin and the quiver of her lips against her sex. The pair of them mashed tighter and tighter, her body squeezing down into half the space his once had occupied, and forcing him to do the same. Glass walls strained and quivered around them, strumming both of their supercharged bodies to new heights, and then finally became still.
Melanie couldn't speak. She couldn't moan. She couldn't even blink. All she could do is blush profusely and fixate on the magnificent sensations of her boyfriend using every micron if his own limited motion to twitch against her womanhood in a way that could only have been on purpose. And it felt so good...
~~~
Debbie stepped into the bathroom and rather hurriedly used the facilities. Waiting for the room to click into the proper orientation had left her fidgeting and dancing outside the door, so she was more than a little bit focused on the urgent call of nature for the bulk of her bathroom visit. It wasn't until she was washing her hands and getting ready to head back to bed when she heard something between a squeak and a gasp. She leaned down and looked under the sink. There she saw the shower compartment. The top panel was entirely filled with Melanie's face, which despite its flattened, squared nature was still visibly in the depths of raw, undiluted bliss. On either side, Debbie could barely make out the shapes of flattened hands. Near the midpoint was a dividing line of skin tone, with the bottom looking more like Deacon than Melanie save for the two strips that were probably Melanie's legs. The front had two nipples squished flat and nearly expanded to fill a quarter of the cube face each, then the oddly flattened shaft of her boyfriend. She couldn't see the back, but she assumed it was a pair of flattened butts.
After a bit of mental math, she figured out where Deacon's face must have been, and thus likely the reason for Melanie's expression.
"Eh, whatever floats your boat," Debbie said with a shrug.
She stood and padded off toward her room again, clicking off the light and grinning at the squeaking giggle she heard behind her.
After a bit of mental math, she figured out where Deacon's face must have been, and thus likely the reason for Melanie's expression.
"Eh, whatever floats your boat," Debbie said with a shrug.
She stood and padded off toward her room again, clicking off the light and grinning at the squeaking giggle she heard behind her.