The Man of a Thousand Uses

I had gotten about two miles down the road before I realized what I had done - I had left my journal sitting on the desk in the bedroom. I had been writing in it earlier in the day, and had simply forgotten to put it back in my backpack before I left for school. There was no doubt in my mind that Con would read it if she found it there - she was always trying to sneak a peek inside when she thought I wasn't looking. Until now, I had always been careful to never allow that to happen; my journal simply contained too much "incriminating" information.

You see, Con is my live-in girlfriend, and as ashamed as am to admit it, I have never been a very good boyfriend. In fact, I had taken almost every chance I had to cheat on her over the years. I don't really know why - I simply couldn't help myself. I have always loved women, and if I happened to glance a willing smile at a bar or at a party, well, invariably things would happen. I had always detailed these encounters in my journal (which I realize now was a foolish thing to do), so it is easy to see why I wanted to keep it out of Con's hands. Although she was a beautiful woman, Con could be quite vengeful when she was angry. I had seen her carry grudges for years, but eventually she would always extract her revenge. The last thing in the world I wanted was to be on the receiving end of her wrath, so I quickly turned the car around and raced back to the apartment.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I could sense immediately that something was wrong. I had a sick feeling in my stomach, and I was almost shaking from nervousness. I slowly made my way up the steps, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

There she was. She held the journal in one hand, and the phone in the other. Tears were streaming down her face, her eyes were red, and her nose was running. When she saw me, she told her friend, "He's home now", and hung up the phone.

For a long time, we simply stared at each other. My mind was racing. Finally, I decided to try to take control of the situation; I took a couple of steps toward her and barked: "How could you read my journal?! You knew that was private! I ought to..." Before I could say another word, Con cut me off - she had heard enough. "FUCK YOU!" she screamed through her tears. "I TRUSTED YOU, AND YOU WERE OUT FUCKING OTHER WOMEN, AND THEN HAD THE NERVE TO COME HOME AND WRITE ABOUT IT! FUCK YOU! I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU! NEVER! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS - DO YOU HEAR ME? YOU WILL PAY!"

To this day, I don't understand what happened next. Con let out some type of weird scream, suddenly it felt as though fire was coursing through my veins. I was gasping for air, while my brain was racked with unbearable pain. I was in anguish! I fell to the floor, my entire body paralyzed. My head was spinning, and I tried to yell out but there was only silence. It felt as though my body was being compressed in a vice. The next thing I knew, all the pain was gone, and I could move again, but I was so disoriented and dizzy that it was all I could do just to sit up. As my head began to clear, I almost went into shock - I was still looking at Con, but now she was the size of a skyscraper! I was too small to even leap to the top of her foot! I was no bigger than an ant to her! In fact, my entire living room had swelled to enormous proportions! She bent down and looked at me, but I could not read her face. She did not appear surprised, angry, happy, or anything else - she simply stared at me much like one would stare at a rock or a drop of paint. All I could do was lie there and tremble.

Finally, she began to walk away from me, and I could feel the vibrations her footfalls made. I was literally on the verge of a nervous breakdown - my mind and senses were simply overwhelmed. Running or hiding never even entered my mind; I simply sat there in stunned silence.

Moments later, Con returned with some tissue in her hand. With amazing quickness, she bent down and clasped the tissue around me. When she stood up and flipped her hand over, I was engulfed in tissue in the palm of her hand, staring right up into her impossibly huge face. She spoke for the first time, and although she was speaking very quietly and controlled, the words ripped through my head like a shotgun blast: "YOU SON OF A BITCH. I AM GOING TO SEE TO IT THAT YOU GET WHAT YOU DESERVE. YOU OBVIOUSLY USED ME FOR YEARS, WHILE PLEASURING YOURSELF AT EVERY OPPORTUNITY. NOW IT'S MY TURN. FROM NOW ON, YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME BUT A SIMPLE HOUSEHOLD OBJECT TO BE USED HOWEVER I NEED OR DESIRE." With that, she raised the tissue to her nose, and situated me just below her right nostril. Before I could move or speak, I was flattened to the tissue by a huge rush of hot wind, and then completely coated by Con's steaming snot. The noise was deafening, and I felt like I was drowning in a huge vat of hot glue. She crumpled the tissue in her hand, twisting my body into an impossible position, and dropped the tissue into the trash can beside the toilet. I couldn't speak or move, and breathing was very, very difficult. If I died in this tissue, I knew Con wouldn't care. In fact, I was not even sure if she would ever get me out of here!

Hours passed. Con's snot hardened to the consistency of steel, and I was still hopelessly enmeshed. I was beginning to believe that I was doomed to die in this tissue, when suddenly I could tell through the tissue that the lights had come on in the bathroom. I heard water running, drawers opening and closing, and I felt something slam into the tissue - she had obviously dropped something else into the trash can. Before I knew it, I felt my stomach drop as the tissue I was in was once again being squeezed and lifted swiftly into the air. Con opened the tissue enough to expose my snot-covered head, and roughly peeled the mucus away with her fingernails. "I WAS WONDERING IF YOU WERE STILL ALIVE. I AM GLAD TO SEE YOU ARE, BECAUSE I AM NOT ANYWHERE CLOSE TO BEING DONE WITH YOU." She continued to roughly free my body from its unusual prison, and when she held me up again, I realized she was sitting on the toilet. She gazed at me with fire in her eyes, and I fell to her palm in pain and covered my ears as she once again bellowed her horrible, guttural scream. The unbearable pain returned immediately, but instead of feeling compressed, now I felt as if my body were on a medieval rack - I was being pulled and stretched, and enduring anguish unlike any I had ever experienced. It was over much more quickly than before, and once my bearings returned, I realized that I had grown from my former ant-like size to about 3 or 4 inches. I stared into her face, and it still registered only detached nonchalance.

"I'M AFRAID THAT FINDING YOUR JOURNAL THIS MORNING GAVE ME QUITE AN UPSET STOMACH, AND IT LOOKS LIKE I AM ALMOST OUT OF TOILET PAPER. INSTEAD OF WASTING WHAT LITTLE BIT I HAVE LEFT, I THINK I WILL USE MY LITTLE HUMAN CORNCOB, INSTEAD." Before I could even speak, Con squeezed me tightly in her hand and held my head down between her legs as she began to go to the bathroom. She began to piss, and the steaming yellow liquid poured out of her less than an inch away from my face. The fumes began to burn my eyes, and even if I tried to hold my breath it felt as though my nose was on fire. An errant drop sprayed right onto my face, and caused me to dry heave. I literally thought my skin was going to peel off! Before I could even catch my breath, however, she began to take a shit, and she wasn't lying about having an upset stomach. The shit exploded out of her asshole all at once, and coated the inside of the bowl. It seemed to be almost liquid in consistency, and continued coming for about 30 seconds. She paused, squeezed me a little tighter, and then a little bit more plopped out right in front of my face.

Even though at some level I knew what was about to come next, my mind would not accept it. That made absolutely no difference, however. First she reached over and began running some water in the sink right next to the toilet, and without the slightest hesitation plunged me right down between her legs. She began with her vagina, and rubbed me briskly in her pubic hair. I could feel the warm piss coat my head and my body. After a few strokes she would take me out and stick me under the water, and then I would go right back to work. Once she was satisfied that all of her piss had been sopped up, she went night to work on her ass. Pulling her cheeks apart with her left hand, she thrust me right into her crack with her right. At first all she could do was one stroke, because her runny shit would completely cover me. I don't know how I kept from passing out - my eyes, ears, nose and mouth were full of Con's shit, and she didn't ease up. After several passes, she began to scrub a little more vehemently before washing me off in the sink. Finally, she put her finger behind my head and rubbed it roughly all along her crack. The ridges in her ass felt like sandpaper, but were almost pleasant compared to the way she worked me over her asshole. For her grand finale, she dug into her hole with my head until it completely entered it. She let go of my body, and I dangled from her ass with my head securely bound by her smelly sphincter. When she stood up, my body slammed against her huge cheeks. My body was ground back and forth as she took a couple of steps, and then she grasped me again and jerked me free with a powerful yank. "I WILL BE BACK FOR YOU LATER," she said, and she tossed me back into the toilet that she had not yet flushed, and closed the lid. Even though it was dark, I could swear I could actually see the fumes rising from the squalid water. I heaved over and over, even though there had been nothing in my stomach for a long time. I began to pray that she would simply come in and flush me away, because I could not take any more of her vengeance. Sure, I had cheated on her, but I certainly did not deserve this.

I lost track of time. I wasn't sure if I had been trapped in that odorous hell for minutes, hours, or days. Finally, as the first waves of unconsciousness began to overtake me, I felt my body rising into the air. Though my eyes were swollen shut, Con must have dropped me back into the sink because I felt cool, refreshing water cascading over me. Shortly thereafter my entire body was wrapped up into a rough towel, and I was carried out of the room. When she dumped me out of the towel onto her desk, my eyes were finally beginning to clear. I will still around three and a half inches tall, and I was lying night next to a pair of Con's panties. My heart began to pound unmercifully in my chest when I caught sight of Con herself - she was holding a sewing needle that looked like a giant menacing spear from my vantage point. Before I could utter a sound, she whisked my puny form onto her underwear and threatened: "IF YOU SO MUCH AS BREATHE, I WILL RAM THIS NEEDLE RIGHT UP YOUR ASS." Believe me - I froze.

It was immediately clear to me - Con was actually sewing me to a pain of her panties! I was lying on my back, and she looped the thread several times around my legs, and then several more times around my stomach, chest and arms. When she finished and tied off the string, I was hopelessly bound to her thin cotton briefs. She held them up, and I realized that I was actually attached in the middle of the rear of the panties - right where her ass would soon be situated.

"I TOLD YOU THAT YOU HAD GIVEN ME AN UPSET STOMACH. THANKS TO YOU, I AM SUFFERING FROM UNBEARABLE GAS. INSTEAD OF STINKING UP MY BEDROOM WHILE I SLEEP, I DECIDED THAT I NEED A HUMAN DEODORANT PAD." Sure enough, I screamed in horror as Con's huge feet stepped into the panties night beside my bound body, and she slowly began to raise the underwear up her legs. My eyes grew wide as I saw her mountainous ass cheeks growing closer and closer, and the same asshole that had imprisoned my head earlier in the day coming cleanly into view. When she had pulled them all the way up, my body was being crunched right in the middle of her powerful butt, and my face was staring straight into her pungent asshole. She took about two steps, and the rubbing motion acted almost like a vacuum - I was pulled in deeper until my body was pressed tightly along her crack, and my face was glued against her rancid sphincter.

Suddenly she stopped walking. I could sense some type of deep, internal rumbling. I tightened every muscle in my body and tried to hold my breath, but it was as useless as trying to stop a tornado with a B.B. gun. I heard a deafening ripping sound, and my head shot backwards with the force of a rifle shot. My senses were overwhelmed, and for a moment I literally thought my nose was going to shrivel up and drop off! The stench was simply indescribable, and continued to linger long after the initial fart. It was almost as if the odor somehow attached itself to my face, like a coat of paint. As soon as I would start to recover from one, Con would launch another - each one seemingly louder, longer and stronger than the one before.

The wind got knocked out of me when she plopped down onto the bed. In addition to my torment at simply being trapped deep within her ass, I now had to contend with her almost unbearable weight. If she had been sitting on a hard surface, I surely would have been crushed into oblivion. I kept trying to hold on to sanity, because I felt sure that I would get a reprieve as soon as she fell asleep. I was wrong - the onslaught continued all night. In fact, when she would roll over onto her back while she slept, I would be hopelessly crushed and pressed against her body, where I had no choice but to use every ounce of strength in my lungs to gasp deeply for air. Therefore, when another fart would splatter in my face, I had to inhale it deeply or risk losing consciousness. While a part of me welcomed the prospect of death, I had now resolved that no matter what she did to me I would fight for life. Looking back, it was probably a foolish choice.

She was lying on her side, pinning me deep within her ass cleavage when her alarm went off. She sat up and signaled an end to my duties as a deodorant pad with one last long, wet, sputtering expulsion of gas. She pushed the panties down her legs, and let them drop to the ground. Her gigantic pink toes crashed down beside me, and she walked out of the room, leaving me pinned to her cotton panties on the bedroom floor.

Con returned in minutes, and I could see that she was weaning exercise clothes. She walked past me without a glance, and I heard her rummaging through her closet. The next thing I knew, she was down on all fours, and her huge face was right in front of me. Before she even spoke, she scrunched up her face in disgust. "DAMN! YOU STINK LIKE HELL! I GUESS YOU REALLY DID ABSORB MY FARTS! UGH! ANYWAY, I HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU." She brought her hand around to reveal two objects she had been concealing behind her back. My nose revealed what they were before my eyes could focus - they were her slip-on, laceless canvas Keds. I recognized the smell instantly, because I had constantly beseeched her to get rid of the damn things - whenever she wore them they would stink up the whole house. She had owned them ever since I had known her, and she never wore socks when she put them on. Of course, as bad as the smell had been at my usual size of six feet tall, it was nothing compared to fetid wreaking they were emitting to my highly-attuned senses. "DON'T WORRY, YOU WON'T HAVE TO SMELL THEM FOR LONGAT LEAST.. NOT YET. I AM GOING JOGGING, AND THEN TO WORK OUT. BOY, I BET MY FEET SURE WILL GET HOT. I HOPE I CAN FIND SOMETHING TO COOL THEM DOWN WHEN I RETURN."

Without another word, Con sat down on the bed, and dropped the cursed Keds to the floor inches from my prone, bound body. She slipped her feet in them with a whooshing sound, stood up, and left the room. Seconds later I heard the front door slamming.

I lay in my prison of cotton and string for hours. I tried to rid my mind of the memories of the horrors I had endured in the past 24 hours. I tried to forget the smell of her shit, her feet, her arts. I tried to forget the horror I experienced being trapped in her snot. I tried to convince myself that I was actually dreaming, and I would wake up safe and sound... and six feet tall. I slept for the first time since my ordeal began...

SLAM! The sound of the door reverberated in my head. It was not a dream - I was still encased in cotton underwear. Con appeared in the doorway and looked down at me with a scowl. I realized that it was one of the first times she had ever even shown any emotion since yesterday morning. Her hair was drenched with sweat, and her skin was shining bright red. Her sopping clothes were clinging to her body. I held my breath as she stepped towards me. She grabbed the panties, whisked them into the air, and carried them into the living room. When she sat down on the sofa, I found myself face down on a hot, wet leotard. The odor of sweat was overpowering, but lasted only seconds. She flipped me over, and began cutting me loose while she spoke: "IT IS OVER 100 DEGREES OUTSIDE. I HAVE BEEN RUNNING FOR OVER FIVE STRAIGHT HOURS. WHENEVER I WOULD GET TIRED, I WOULD THINK ABOUT YOUR JOURNAL AGAIN, AND I WOULD KEEP GOING. AFTER A COUPLE OF HOURS, MY FEET WERE SO SWEATY AND STANK SO BAD THAT I COULD SMELL THEM EVEN AS I WAS RUNNING. AT THIS POINT, THEY FEEL LIKE THEY ARE ON FIRE. IT IS TIME TO FIND ANOTHER USE FOR YOU."

As she cut the final string, I was finally free. I tried to stand on her lap. Deep grooves were present both on my arms and legs where I had been bound for so long. Before the blood could even return to my feet or hands, I was knocked off balance as Con raised one of her legs. She reached over, and slowly removed one of her white Keds. The stench was so palpable that it almost knocked me down. Immediately I could once again feel my stomach churning, and I was thankful that I had not eaten in so long. Her foot was dirty and had little bits of grime all over it. Before I even knew what was happening, she snagged between her fingers and aimed me right for the opening of her shoe. "ENJOY YOUR NEW HOME, AND PRAY THE PHONE DOESN'T RING OR NO ONE COMES TO THE DOOR. IT MIGHT BE PRETTY ROUGH ON YOU IF I HAVE TO GET UP. IT'S YOUR JOB TO COOL OFF MY FOOT, WHILE I DO A LITTLE MORE READING IN YOUR JOURNAL."

As my body entered the shoe, I felt as though I was entering an Indian sweat hut. It was as hot as wrapping myself up in an electric blanket in Death Valley. I won't even attempt to describe to smell - I heard screaming inside my head. It was like taking my gas mask oft in the gas chamber during Army basic training. When her foot forced me onto my back and covered me, I didn't know how I was going to hold on to life or sanity.

Con's foot almost felt like hot coals. If it hadn't been wet, I would have thought it was going to catch on fire. I could feel the tiny pieces of dirt between my body and her callused sole. She brought her leg up and tucked her foot under her thigh, so at least I didn't feel all of her weight - only the heat and horrible stench. As she re-read my journal, however, she would place her foot down on the floor, and I would crushed to the very limits of human endurance. In fact, she would even tap her foot like she was keeping time to some phantom beat, leaving me light headed, bruised, and sick. The more she read, the harder she pounded. Harder and harder. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. Everything went black.

I wish I could report that this is where my story ended. Since that first horrible day, months have passed. I have been used as a Q-tip, toothpick, tampon, and dozens of other things. Con has given me no indication that she is growing tired of her revenge upon me, and I can't help but to believe that thirty years from now, I am still going to be her man of a thousand uses.

-Seabee