A Fly On the Wall by sickpuppies
Summary:

Join Nick, a boy turned into a fly, as he explores his new world. Filled with high school drama, girls, snails, food, breasts, other flies, and maybe even a bit of humor. Who knows?


Categories: Odor, Teenager (13-19), Crush, Entrapment, Feet, Mouth Play, Unaware, Vore, Scat Characters: None
Growth: None
Shrink: Micro (1 in. to 1/2 in.)
Size Roles: F/m
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 23 Completed: No Word count: 30677 Read: 324686 Published: May 08 2014 Updated: December 19 2014

1. Chapter 1: Magical Snails by sickpuppies

2. Chapter 2: Nick is shrunk (What a surprise) by sickpuppies

3. Chapter 3: Some sexy changing room action by sickpuppies

4. Chapter 4: Woops, I guess this is the chapter with the changing room by sickpuppies

5. Chapter 5: Timing is important by sickpuppies

6. Chapter 6: What the hell should he wish for? by sickpuppies

7. Chapter 7: The bad things that happen in the woods by sickpuppies

8. Chapter 8: The slow digesting process by sickpuppies

9. Chapter 9: what Now? by sickpuppies

10. Chapter 10: Soup Is Good For the Soul, Not the Body by sickpuppies

11. Chapter 11: Almost at the end by sickpuppies

12. Chapter 12: Ya’ll ready for some full tore vore!? by sickpuppies

13. Chapter 13: Neil, Sex Demon by sickpuppies

14. Chapter 14: A Fun Little Biology Lesson by sickpuppies

15. Chapter 15: Exit Strategy by sickpuppies

16. Chapter 16: Changing Scenes by sickpuppies

17. Chapter 17: City Life For a Bug by sickpuppies

18. Chapter 18: Police Intervention by sickpuppies

19. Chapter 19: Talk About a Fun Afternoon by sickpuppies

20. Chapter 20: A Gas Explosion by sickpuppies

21. Chapter 21: Back to the BooBs by sickpuppies

22. Chapter 22: Boobs 2, the Triumphant Return by sickpuppies

23. Chapter 23: More on the Topic of "Boobs" by sickpuppies

Chapter 1: Magical Snails by sickpuppies

Nick grumbled to himself angrily. In the course of a few minutes, he had been unimaginably lucky, made a poor decision, and was now utterly screwed. How did he always mange this type of thing?

            It all started a few long hours ago. It was a cold winters day, snow falling outside as it had been doing for the passed few hours, piling up high outside. Nick, with a pessimistic mood that wasn’t common for him, could only focus on the backbreaking labor of cleaning it all up.

            The teenager wasn’t always in a bad mood, but today he was. Something about the air just annoyed him. Perhaps it was a bit too humid. Maybe it was the spring in the couch that would poke him no matter how he moved. Perhaps it was his sister’s annoying voice coming muffled through the walls. Nick couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t spend the day talking on her phone.

            “Or maybe it’s the damn fly!” he yelled to himself as the annoying pest once again buzzed past his face. It wasn’t one of the small gnats that would sometimes pop up. Those he could ignore. No, this was a horse fly, the type that you could hear from across the room. Oh, he hated flies so much.

            He tried swiping at the bug, but it effortlessly avoided his attack, probably more due to luck than anything. Even so, as it buzzed off into the corner of the room, Nick could practically hear its condescending laughter, mocking him. Flies are well known as the cockiest bug.

            He grabbed a soft cover book that had been lying on the table next to him. One of Ashley’s chick flick romance novels. He never actually saw her read it, but every few weeks the bookmark would be a little farther in, except once when it had gone back twenty pages. He never did find out why that was. It flew across the room, causing the fly to once again jump into the air, probably more annoyed than hurt. Nick noticed that the bookmark had fallen out in the process. He doubted Ashley would even notice.  

            Reluctantly, he went back to watching the TV, and whatever boring program he had been watching.

            “Oh,” he said without even a hint of excitement. “A repeat of friends. Who-hoo.” He thought for a second about how he could put more sarcasm into that sentence. After a while he gave up, realizing it was impossible.

            So everything went back to the way it was. The air was slightly to humid, the spring still poked into his back, and that damn fly just buzzed past his face again!

            “Really!” Nick shouted again, amazed by the pure audacity of the fly. What did he ever do to deserve this? Why had this fly picked him to torment. Why was it he who needed to bare this burden?

            He was about to get up, to do what he did not know, but he stopped in his tracks. The fly had landed on the table before him! Its huge, bulking body a truly repugnant sight. Its clear wings hideously reflecting the light from the lamp behind him, its huge eyes twitching in such a way that only nature could have made, designed specifically to weird people out.

            Without even the slightest bit of hesitation, Nick slammed his hand down on the bug, mashing its body underneath. He immediately regretted the decision. With a look of complete disgust, he pulled his hand off of the table, fly guts dripping from his palm, pooling on the table.

            “Ugh,” he groaned as he left to wash his hand.

 

            He returned a little bit later, all manner of the disgusting insect removed from his hand. With a plop, he sat down on the couch, that annoying spring poking him once again. It didn’t faze him though. At least the fly was dead. He closed his eyes, picturing a world where all flies had been exterminated. His friends would always tell him, “No, if all flies went extinct, then nothing would decompose.”

            “Fine by me!” he would always reply happily.

            Then his ears rang with a faint, but all to familiar buzzing sound. Hesitantly he opened one eye, peering around the room, hoping his senses where lying to him. There, climbing up the far wall, just out of reach, was another thick, disgusting fly.

            “Mom,” Nick called as he slid his winter boots on. “I’m going out.”

 

            He had no real plans, but felt that a walk might do him good. Even though it was freezing out. And snowing. And there was a harsh wind. And he had forgotten his mittens. He stubbornly pushed these annoyances from his mind.

            His thick snow boots kept his feet dry as he walked through the slush, but the rest of him was becoming damp. He hadn’t bothered a hat. All he had was a pair of jeans and a jacket.

            But he kept going, his mood worsening with every step. Soon he started grumbling to himself, an act he often did. “Stupid cold,” he would say. “Damn flies. Freaking slush.”

            He stopped in his path as he noticed the slightest bit of movement below him. On a cleared part of the sidewalk, a lone snail slithered on his way. “Really?” he asked aloud. “It’s winter. There aren’t supposed to be bugs in the winter!” He hovered his muddy snow boot above the creature, fully intending to end its miserable life. But something stopped him.

            “Wait!” a tiny voice called. He shook his head in confusion. Was he hearing voices now? Nick scanned the area around him, but there was no one around. Nothing that would ask him to wait at least. The only life he could even make out was the small snail.

            He carefully placed his boot on top of the creature and was amazed as the voice came again saying, “No! Don’t!” Amazed, Nick took his foot away, and crouched down to look at the odd snail.

            “You can talk?” he asked sarcastically, not believing his own ears. He laughed as the snail turned its head, almost like it was facing him.

            “Well… Yeah,” the snail responded.

            “That settles it then,” Nick said with a straight, unimpressed face.

            “Settles what?” the snail asked curiously.

            “I’ve gone insane, or passed out in the snow and am now hallucinating.”

            “Believe what you want human, but would you please let me carry on my way?”

            “And why should I?” The snail sighed. He wasn’t supposed to do this, but it looked like the tiny bug had no choice. He had world domination to conduct.  

            “If you let me live, then I can grant you a wish.” Nick burst out in laughter. Now he was sure he was insane. The snail waited a bit for the boy to calm down, but eventually became bored with the situation. “Hey!” He called out. Snails, contrary to popular opinion, are not patient animals. “Do we have a deal or not?”

            Nick managed to contain himself long enough to answer. “Sure,” he said through deep breaths. “I’ll let you live, you grant me a wish.”

            “Yes,” the snail continued. “Tonight someone will visit you. Tell him your wish and he’ll make it come true. Now, I’m very busy, so I will thank you to let me be.”

            “Sure thing snaily,” Nick said as he stood up, still giggling to himself. He carefully stepped over the ‘magical snail’ and continued with his walk. “Hey guys,” he said to himself as he pictured telling people about this. “I found a snail that talks, and grants wishes.”

 

            He was a little surprised when he actually reached home. Nothing was unusual; he had just really thought he had died. A pleasant surprise finding out that he was actually very much alive.

            The air inside was the same it had been when he left. Slightly to humid, but acceptable. He slipped off his wet boots and plopped back onto the couch, relaxing after an eventful walk. He mound loudly as he heard a buzzing go by his face.

 

            Darkness surrounded Nick’s bedroom. Only a few loose rays of moonlight found there way into his window, passing onto his floor. Nick slept soundly; cuddled up in his warm blankets, clutching a teddy bare he was far to old to have, close to himself.

            A dark figure rose out of the shadows from under his bed, moving silently. It grinned in the dark, its brilliant white teeth shining even in the low light. For a second it remained still, trying to remember what it was supposed to do next.

            The being racked its brain for the answer, but could not find what it was looking for. With a low sigh, it pulled a tiny book out from one of its pockets and started flipping through the pages. It soon found what it needed to, and slipped the book away.

            It reached out, laying a finger onto the sleeping boy. Nick didn’t move. So the being poked him. Nick gave a snore of protest, still very much asleep. Annoyed, the being leaned over him, a fist ready to come down on the pesky teenager. The shadowy figure stopped as it caught sight of the teddy bare. It pulled back, trying to control the laughter that was bustling from inside it.

            “Calm down,” the being said to itself in a low hiss. It took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I got this.”

            Once again the being moved next to the bed. With one quick motion, it slapped the boy across the face. Nick jumped up, finally woken from his sleep. He looked around hurriedly, trying to find his attacker. He stopped when he saw the huge, pearly smile at the foot of his bed.

            “Hello,” the thing said in a low, almost frightening voice.

            “What?” Nick said in surprise.

            “I am the demon that has been called up from the gates of hell. Your greatest fears come to be realized! I am pain, agony, death, and, hey wait! Don’t do that!” Nick reached over and flicked on his lamp, reveling the demon for what it was.

            Now it was Nick’s turn to laugh. Before him stood a cartoonish looking kid, only about four foot tall at the most, wearing a black and blue robe that was entirely to big for him, with a pointed wizards hat that practically covered his eyes.

            “I told you not to do that,” the kid said, clearly annoyed.

            “Sorry,” Nick replied. “I didn’t think the ‘demon called up from the gates of hell’ would look like… well… you!”

            “Well I do!” the kid said with a huff. “It’s my first day, Okay?”

            “First day?” Nick repeated, amazed. “At what, being a demon?”

            “Well, no. At granting wishes. I usually do… other stuff.”

            “Wait,” Nick stopped him, already knowing where this was going. “Your telling me that thing with the snail was real.”

            “Yes, and now I have to grant you a wish.”

            “Really?”

            “Yep.”

            “Any wish?”

            “Yes.”

            “And you’re going to do this?”

            “Yes.”

            “All by yourself?”

            “Yes! Now get on with it, what’s your wish?” Nick closed his eyes and fell back, a humorous smile still on his face. This was turning out to be an interesting day. But the question became, what should he wish for?

            He could wish for money, but that would get old. He could wish that that girl in class would fall in love with him, but money would do that just as easily.

            “Oh, what the hell.” he said out loud, more to himself than the kid. “I wish I could fly.”

            “How creative,” the kid shot back. “Haven’t heard that one fifty times.”

            “Yeah?” Nick asked arrogantly. “And what would you wish for.”

            “No, no, flight is fine. Now just close your eyes and I’ll make it happen.” Nick shook his head, still in disbelief. This couldn’t possibly be real. He shut his eyes.

            He could feel the kid pushing him down to the bed, and soon heard the flick of the light switch. He couldn’t help but peak a little.

            “Hey, close ‘em!” the boy said, now standing above him on the bed, holding a bag. Nick closed his eyes again. He could feel something falling onto his face, and barely resisted the urge to sneeze. Soon he found himself drifting back into sleep. Before he did though, a voice called out to him.

            “If you have any problems, just call my name and I’ll come. It’s Macle by the way.”    

End Notes:

I'm going to try to avoid any male giant action in this story. But for all you out there who like that sort of thing, don't worry! I'm working on another story that is nothing but giants! Keep an eye out.

Chapter 2: Nick is shrunk (What a surprise) by sickpuppies

The sun rose on the next morning in much the same way it had done the last. Peacefully, just lifting up over the lip of the world, its beams radiating love and warmth onto the earth.

            But Nick’s morning was not peaceful. It was rather rude and sudden, much as it had been the day before. He was sleeping soundly, cuddled up in his thick winter blankets, his head resting peacefully on his pillow, when a black-hearted raven decided to great the world.

            Every morning for the last few years, the devil bird had flown to Nick’s house, perched on a ledge outside his window, and gave a screech that penetrated into his very skull. But just one screech was not enough for the bird, oh no. It would continue its screeches until the boy finally rose out of bed and banged on his window. He would always swear that the raven actually smirked at him before taking off.

            So today, when the bird’s calls woke him up, he was not surprised. Annoyed, yes, but not surprised. Still, something felt odd. With a groan, he tried to push the blanket away from him, but found he couldn’t. He stopped moving for a second, his tired brain trying to comprehend what was happening, all with the incessant screeches of the raven echoing through the room.

            Finally he was forced to open his eyes. This was always the most dreadful part of the morning, when the bright lights would nearly blind him. Or at least, it should have been. He was surprised to find that he was actually covered in shadow, and something huge was blocking his view of the window.

            “CAWWWWWWW!” the bird shouted again.

            “Oh shut up!” Nick yelled back in an oddly squeaky voice. “Wait, what the hell?” he looked up at the huge thing above him, then to his left and right. Then finally, he looked down at himself, and it all made sense.

            Sense in this case meant that everything in fact didn’t make sense at all. That is why it all made sense. If one thing was clear and everything else was wrong, then something was really wrong. If everything was wrong, then it all fit together.

            What he saw when he looked down was not his body. What he saw was a hideous, disgusting, fat, harry, putrid body of a fly.

            “Ahh!” he shouted as he scooted back on his pillow and away from the huge object, which he now realized was his blanket. “What the hell!” he bellowed again. The crow responded with yet another annoying caw.

            He took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself. It worked momentarily, but the shock of being turned into a bug is not something you can get over in only a few seconds. So, he took the next few minutes to run around his pillow in circles, screaming his lungs out.

            Eventually the raven grew bored of waiting, and simply flew away, leaving poor Nick all by himself. Still he ran in circles, trying in vain to regain his composure.

            He rushed forward again, but this time one of his six feet snagged on a fold of the pillow, sending him rolling towards the side. With a scream, he fell from the edge of the bed, landing on the cold, wood floor beneath.

            There he stayed, not because he was injured, but because he had finally moved past the all-consuming fear that had held him. Now he was trying to rationalize the situation.

            “Okay,” he started calmly, speaking to himself. “You’re a fly. You can deal with that. But how did you become a fly?” He searched his mind for something, anything that could explain it, but nothing came up. He hadn’t been near any nuclear plants, nor had there been any experiments done to him. His life had been completely normal!

            “Except for the snail,” he whispered to himself. But how could that be the case? It was just a dream, a delusion. There was no way a magic snail and a kid wizard could have done anything, and besides, he had wished to fly, not be a fly! Then he realized, flies could fly. Technically, his wish had come true.

            He racked his brain again, this time searching for a memory that could help him. He remembered the boy saying something last night. Something about needing help.

            “Oh!” Nick shouted as he remembered. “Maple!” Nothing happened. “Wait, no that wasn’t it. It was… Pickle! Sickle! Mackerel!” Still nothing. He collapsed to the ground, loosing all hope.

            “It’s pronounced, Macle,” a familiar voice called from the top of the bed. Nick immediately turned, starring up at the edge of the bed, and the small wizard who was laying on it.

            “Hey!” Nick shouted in excitement. The boy rolled over so that he was leaning over the edge of the bed, looking down at the tiny bug.

            “Who said that?” the boy asked playfully.

            “Its me! The fly!”

            “If they’re not hear,” the boy continued, pretending not to have heard the bugs please for help. “Guess I’m just going to have to look for them.” He swung around so that his feet were hanging from the bed. Then he jumped down, the boy’s thick boots slamming into the ground on either side of the tiny fly.

            Nick jumped in fright and tried to scurry away, only to trip again. He could hear the wizard laughing above him.

            “Come here you little pest.” The boy crouched down, grabbing the stumbling fly before it had the chance to go further. He brought the bug up to his face, allowing it to lie in the palm of his hand. “So what did you want anyway?”

            Nick was trembling, the sight of someone so big that they could crush him sending waves of terror through him. To think, this was the tiny kid from the other night!

            “W… Well,” he started, trying to force something out.

            “Don’t be scared,” Macle said in a more calming tone. “I was just joking before. You can speak, don’t worry.”

            “Why am I a fly?” Nick finally managed to blurt out.

            “Oh that. Well you wished to fly, so I made it so you could fly.”

            “But why did you turn me into a bug?” he demanded, his confidence returning.

            “What, did you think you’d just grow wings or something? That wouldn’t work at all! The only logical thing to do was turn you into something that could already fly.”

            “I didn’t want this! Turn me back!”

            “Oh, you want to change your wish? Can’t do that. Well, I could but it’s a pain.”

            “I don’t care, change me back!” The boy moaned.

            “Fine. But you have to do some stuff first.” Nick just starred at him with his blank, creepy eyes. “First of all, I can’t turn you back until 24 hours have passed. And, well that’s about it.”

            “So I have to be stuck like this for a whole day?” Macle nodded. “But what if someone sees me, and tries to squish me?”

            “Hmm…” Macle thought to himself. “That’s a good point.” The young wizard rubbed his chin for a second, trying to think of a way to help. “Ah. I could make you invincible for the day. If you get squished, you pop back to life in a few seconds.”

            “Really?” Nick asked in amazement. “You can do that?”

            “Yep. All powerful demon, remember?” Macle said confidently. “Watch.” With one swift movement, the boy smashed his hands together, smushing the tiny fly effortlessly. He pulled his palms apart, giggling at the disgusting mass of blood and body parts the fly had left behind. He spoke a few words in an unknown tongue, then blew across the body parts. They started to vibrate at first, but soon reformed into the same fly that had been alive only moments before.

            Nick looked at himself in amazement. He had been dead! Smashed between the palms of this giant, and now look. He was fine!

            “See,” the wizard said happily. “Immortal. Now, I have to go. Just call me again if anything happens. If not, I’ll be back in 24 hours.” He placed the fly back on the ground. “Good luck bug.” The boy vanished in a puff of purple smoke, leaving the small fly alone once again.

End Notes:

"I thought you said no giant action"

Well screw you voice in my head, i wirte what i want! Seriously though, this was the only part in the story with any giant action, limeted as it might have been. Everything after this is all femail goodness.

Chapter 3: Some sexy changing room action by sickpuppies

 Nick stumbled around the floor, attempting to understand his new body, a task that was proving difficult. His extra legs seemed to move randomly, and his wings were just annoying. Not to mention the urge to puke every time he caught a glimpse of himself.

            But, even though it was not a perfect situation Nick was feeling optimistic. He was invincible after all. It might be fun to be a bug for a day. If he could only figure out how to move!

            He did eventually work out the basics. He was able to walk without looking like an idiot, control all of his limbs, and even fly a little. Although landing was not something he had mastered yet.

            “Oh, good enough,” he grumbled to himself after he almost managed to land without crashing. He was done practicing. Now it was time for some fun! But what should he do?

            Eventually he decided to fly around, and hope an opportunity would present itself. He wiggled his fat body under his door, popping out into the massive hallway on the other side.

            He confidently strode out, choosing to walk around a bit before doing anything else. The tiny fly was about in the center of the hall when a door creaked open. He turned, startled, just in time to see his sister, Ashley, emerging from her room.

            She was stunning, towering above her brother. Only about two years older than Nick, she was a pretty girl whose perfect facial features were highlighted by her waves of golden hair that fell almost to her waist.

            The giant strode out into the hallway wearing only a tight T-shirt, and pajamas from the night before. Her bare feet slammed on the ground, shaking the floor with each step. 

            For a moment, the small bug was paralyzed with fear, but he soon remembered the conditions he was in. Yes he was a fly who could be effortlessly crushed, but he was also immortal! There was nothing in the world that could kill him!

            While he was busy thinking about himself, Ashley had walked closer. A shadow fell over the tiny bug, causing him to look up, just in time to see the massive foot crash down on him.

            It was at this point that Nick recalled something else. The wizard had told him he was immortal. He never said anything about getting hurt. So, for that brief second after his sister stepped on him, a pain radiated through his body that can only be described as unpleasant.

            His sister carried on her path, leaving the bug to reform from the blob of body parts she had left in her wake.

            “Hugh,” he said to himself as he looked down. “Didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.” It was an odd sensation, not by any means pleasant, but when one is quickly converted from a solid to a liquid, it is expected to be quite painful. This was more of an extreme tingling.

            An accurate way to describe the sensation would be to consider how it feels when a body part falls asleep. It is similar to that, except it is your entire body, and multiplied by a factor of 11.3. This number coming from Macle himself after growing very bored one afternoon with a supercomputer only a hallway away. But that is a story for another time.

            Nick started walking again, attempting to shake off the sinking sensation. He soon found relative success, and decided to try flying.

            The tiny bug buzzed around the house undetected. He had to admit, flying was amazing. Even if he had to be a bug to do it, the pure sensation of being in the air, nothing holding you back, was exhilarating.

            He happily zipped into the kitchen where his mom and sister were eating. Neither of them looked well rested. He couldn’t blame them; it was a Tuesday after all.

            “Has your brother woken up yet?” Nick’s mom asked Ashley as she poured a glass of orange juice.

            “Haven’t seen him,” his sister responded through a mouth full of pancakes. His mom glanced at the digital clock on the wall. It flashed 7:15. Coincidently, and completely uninterestingly, there was an old clock in their garage at this very moment that was also set to 7:15. The story of this clock goes back to before Nick was born, even before his family had moved in, and interestingly enough involved the destruction of a rather well known planet, an event that Macle had been involved in, and still remembers fondly to this day, even though he is widely hated for it outside of this galaxy.

             “Well he better get up soon.” Ashley chocked down another forkful of pancakes. “Oh,” she said suddenly. “Doesn’t he have lab today?” His mom nodded her head.

            “Yeah,” she responded. “That’s it.” This year Nick had decided to take an elective class that forced him to go in early every Tuesday. He never would have signed up for it if he had known, but no one thought it was something worth bringing up. Today had not been the first day Nick had forgotten, and it would not be the last.

            Ashley and her mom went back to their breakfast. They soon finished and went off to other parts of the house to complete their morning routine. For Nick’s mom, this meant finding something to wear, starting the car, and dealing with any disasters than chose to pop up. For Ashley, this meant attempting to run a comb through her hair enough that she didn’t end up looking like a cross between Cousin It, and a mop.

             This left Nick once again alone. He climbed along the wall to the doorway, being sure that the rest of his family had left. Ever since he had seen Ashley greedily devouring her pancakes, his stomach had been rumbling. But what could he eat?

            He flew around the fridge, but it was airtight. He soon found that the cabinets would be impossible to breach also. There where boxes of cereal, but once again humans had made them bug proof. Don’t they have any compassion for their bug brethren?

            Then his eyes caught a faint sparkle on the ground. A brown liquid that glistened on the tiled floor. He quickly flew down to it, landing with only a mild crash. Improvement for the new bug.

            After he had recovered, he walked over to the puddle, its sugary aroma tantalizing him, tempting him, seducing him. His black eyes starred at it, and his head unconsciously drifted closer. Then he snapped out of his daze, realizing what he was about to do.

            “I may be a bug,” he said to himself. “But I’m above eating syrup off the floor!” He turned his back to the puddle, and readied his wings for takeoff. But, was he really above it?

            His stomach growled again, begging him for some form of food. He tried to focus on other things, but his mind kept drifting to piles of succulent pancakes smothered in syrup. Thoughts of little pancake women showering with the thick brown goodness, begging him to take a lick. How could he say no to beautiful pancake women?

            Syrup coated his entire body as he jumped into the pile, loosing all self-control he had. Eagerly he slurped up the mess, taking in as much of the sugary perfection as he could.

            His feast ended a few minutes later with his laying on his side, stomach completely full. He grinned happily, or at least he would have been if he were human. A fly’s grin looks exactly like a fly’s frown, mainly because it’s a fly and as such, has difficulties expressing its feelings. This had led to many fights between fly boyfriends and fly girlfriends who just want their man to express themselves more.

            Happy and content with his meal, Nick tried to get up only to find that he was stuck. It was at this point that he realized how stupid it was to jump into a pile of syrup, and grimaced. Of course to anyone watching, his face would not have changed at all, since he was fly.

            Once again he tried to retch himself away, but the liquid clung to him like a new born monkey clings to its mother. Except this monkey was big, brown, and had a grip that would rival that of a terminator. So, describing it as a normal monkey would be accurate.

            “Great,” he mumbled to himself. “At least it can’t get much worse than this.”

            Now, many people believe that saying a line such as the one Nick just said is bad luck. This is not the case. It is in fact very lucky. This is because fate has seen the obvious path played out so many times, that it has become a cliché, and as such fate avoids it. This is why it was extremely unlikely that the following events actually happened.

            Right as Nick finished his thought, his sister walked back into the kitchen, walking right for the tiny bug entrapped in syrup.

            “AH!” Nick screamed, more in surprise than in actual fear. As it has been mentioned before, being crushed was not necessarily painful, but it was unpleasant enough that one would try to avoid it in the future. Plus immortality is something that is easily forgotten when your thousand foot tall giantess sister is about to step on you.

            In the time it had taken for Nick to become trapped, Ashley had managed to comb her hair so that it fell flat on her back, coming down almost to her waist. She had also changed from her shabby pajamas into sweatpants, a thick sweatshirt, and a pair of fuzzy pink socks, the right one of which was about to fall onto Nick’s head.

            Her fuzzy sock fell, first pressing slightly into Nick’s fly body, the gooey syrup expanding to take on most of the weight. But, soon the syrup was spread as thin as it could have, and the small fly was forced to bare the rest of her weight. His body burst, organs spilling out onto the ground, mixing with the sticky coating.

            Ashley pulled her foot up from the spot, noticing in annoyance how sticky it felt. She looked down at the blob of syrup, then back to the clock. 7:30 it flashed, signaling that she was already late. No time to find a new pair. She strode out of the kitchen, in search of her shoes.

            Nick came with her, although not by his own free will. His body had been mixed with the syrup that was now coating the under side of his sisters sock. Each time she lifted her foot up, he would reform just enough to regain consciousness, only to be crushed a second later. As one would imagine, it was not a walk in the park for Nick. (Get it, walk!)

            Ashley crouched in front of her closet, quickly shuffling through the multitude of shoes that were lying on the bottom. So far she had found many that she would have worn, but not a single match.

            This however gave Nick a chance to reform, as she was on her knees, leaving her soles exposed. Fist his head popped back up followed by his exoskeleton, and his inner organs. Then his arms, legs, and finally his beautiful, glossy wings.

            Exasperated, Ashley finally decided to just put on a pair of snow boots she had. She moved to her bed, managing to avoid crushing the tiny fly in the proses. She undid the Velcro that held the boots tight, and moved her foot towards the newly opened hole.

            Nick tried furiously to wiggle free. He knew that he was in no real danger, but if she strapped on her boots, and he was inside, that would mean he would be trapped inside them for the whole day. Continuously being stepped on, trampled on, crushed, and by his own sister to!

            He had to do something, which only made it worse when he failed to do anything. Ashley slipped her foot into her boot, fly and all, and quickly redid the Velcro, sealing him in. 

            Ashley’s foot rose and fell rhythmically as she walked, oblivious to her tiny brother currently trapped underneath her sole. On most days, Ashley’s trip to school consisted of a great deal of walking, since she did not have a car. This, obviously, would be horrible for Nick. Each step she took crushed him, so a walk would be astronomically horrible. Or at least greatly unpleasant.

Today was not one of those days. Her friend, Shannon, who being a licensed driver for almost a week now, was more than willing to drive her friend anywhere she so wanted. The best part was that it only cost Ashley a few seconds of all consuming terror as the girl screeched around turns, ran stop signs, and managed to flip off three pedestrians, only one of which was actually disserving of it.

 So, Nick was finally given the freedom to reform, as Ashley was sitting down, taking her weight of her feet. The tiny bug tried to wiggle around, but found himself thoroughly trapped. Her warm foot pressed in on him from all sides, pinning his arms, legs, and wings against his body. There was nothing he could do.

The sensations going through his body where odd to say the least. Strange, and alien, like an odd mix of other emotions Nick had never felt before. Since he had nothing better to do, he decided to try and describe these feelings.

There was defiantly fear involved, but it was not the main ingredient in the emotional recipe. It was like the feeling was a delicious cake, and fear was the icing. The most obvious component, but not the most important.

So what was the succulent inside of his cake? Was it joy? No, that wasn’t it. Jealousy? No, what would he be jealous of? Perhaps there was a trace of insanity. This is what he settled on as the main emotion, partially because it made sense given recent events, but mostly because he was growing bored of trying to name emotions.

What his mind wandered to next surprised even him. As Ashley moved slightly above him, as her soft sole rubbed against his back, he couldn’t help but think of his sister. He imagined himself as a human, shrunken and rubbing his sister’s feet, letting the aroma wash over him, pressing his face against her delicate soles.

“Interesting,” he said as he shook himself away from his fantasies. “First time that happened with my sister.” In truth, it wasn’t. He was just a bit shy about the topic.

End Notes:

I'm having more fun writing this than i thought i would!

Today when i was writting this story, i saw a tiny knat buzzing around my room. No, it was not a big old fly, but close enugh. I considered not killing it for a second, but honestly, screw knats. Heres the awsome part, managed to catch it with one swipe. Felt like ninja.

Anyway, i'm feeling very open with this story, so if you want to see anything ahppen to out tiny friend Nick, just say so. I already included some bird action in a later chapter based on a coment, so don't be afraid!

Chapter 4: Woops, I guess this is the chapter with the changing room by sickpuppies

Nick thought the torment of that day lasted for hours. In reality, it lasted for 3 hours, so wasn’t that far off.

Taking your shoes off in the middle of class was not very common. Some might even say it was down right strange, so it came as no surprise that Nick remained trapped insides his sister’s boot for most of the day.

Nick was forced to stay like that, pressed up against her warm sock, pinned between her foot and her boot. Soon the air grew hot even in the chilly whether, and he could just barely feel tiny beads of sweat start to roll down her sock. But there was something else about her that Nick loved. The sweet smell of syrup had never left, and although it had been diluted, it still filled Nick’s nostrils with a heavenly aroma each time he breathed in.

His face was one of complete bliss for the greater part of the day. This being of no significance due to the fact that all emotions of a fly look exactly the same.

Ashley sat in her geometry class, tapping her foot furiously in boredom. Each tap sending vibrations through the ground. Each time her foot fell, it fell with a deafening boom that could only have been matched by that of an atomic bomb. If you have ever been near an atomic bomb, you know how much of an accomplishment this is.

Nick was not in that boot. Her other foot, the one that housed her small bug brother, was actually resting on a chair next to her. This took all the pressure off of the tiny fly, allowing him to fully enjoy his time at his sister’s feet.

“This can’t possibly get any better,” he said to himself as he snuggled closer to her warm sock.

Fate happened to be listening to the little bug, and took his little soliloquy as a personal challenge. Not to make life better of coerce. No, fate only intervened if it could help screw you over. Many people out there will say different, claiming that fate can be kind at times. This is not the case. That is called good juju, and is a completely different type of magic that one really should not mess with. If ever given the opportunity, consult Macle on the topic of bad juju. It makes for an interesting story that will be told at a time that is not right now.

Fate looked eagerly for a way to ruin the perfect day that the tiny bug was so thoroughly engrossed in. After a long moment of careful deliberation, it worked its magic, a dark cloud forming overhead. Thunder crashed down all about it. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, as if from nowhere, nothing continued to happen.

But this nothing stopped happening a mere ten minutes later. This stopping of nothing resulted directly is the start of something, witch for a brief second started stopping, but soon stopped stopping, resulting in nothing being started, ended, and something growing into something else.

To simplify things a bit, Ashley’s next class was gym.

That might be a little vague, so lets simplify things. In gym, the students were forced to change out of their street clothing and into a pre-decided gym uniform that was utterly hideous and looked good on absolutely no one. This being the case, the gym teachers wore only the uniforms, even outside of school.

Ashley walked into the girl’s locker room, accompanied by a few of her closest friends. First there was Shannon, who was about as smart as a can of pickles that had been left out in the sun to long. Honestly, pickles should not be put in the sun at all. Then there was Carly, a short brunet whose glasses covered a good three fourths of her face. There were others as well, but they aren’t really important.

As the girls absentmindedly stripped, they made idle conversation about the events of the day. Ashley undid the Velcro on her boots, and casually slipped them off, finally freeing the poor bug from his horrifying prison.

Or at least he would have been, had he not still been stuck to the bottom of her sock. She once again placed her foot of the ground, this time effortlessly squishing the small fly into paste.

She continued on with her changing, all the while oblivious to the poor little bug on the floor. The bug in question not being Nick, who was having an amazing time, but rather the poor spider that had made a beautiful web in the locker room only to have one of the girls knock it over by accidently tossing her shirt into the air. Afterwards the spider swore revenge, but being the size of a spider, it wasn’t about to try and carry them out.

The sounds of random girls soon died away as they all exited the locker room. This finally gave Nick a chance to reform since he wasn’t being stepped on every other second.

Like all the other times, Nick’s head regenerated first, followed by his body, and finally his legs and wings. He bounced back up to his feet, eager to find a better place to be.

He was about to fly back into his sister’s shoe, but then a thought accrued to him. He was in the girl’s locker room as a fly. He could just stay and watch the show!

“It might be a little perverted,” he mumbled as he flew on top of a set of lockers, relatively safe from being crushed again. “But I don’t even care!”

So he waited for the girls to come back. Then he waited some more. And finally, after a relatively large amount of time had passed, his waiting was rewarded with more waiting. This waiting was then followed by more waiting, and then by the low rumble of giants stampeding into the room.

By this point Nick was on the verge of falling asleep. It isn’t something people think about, but being a fly is actually a lot of hard work. But now was his reward, no matter how creepy it was.

Shannon walked up to the locker he was sitting on, her breasts bobbing up and down with each step. Nick’s confidence quickly shrunk once he actually saw the girls again. He inched away from the rim of the locker, quickly trying to rationalize what he was doing.

Even though it was completely illogical and impossible, he couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if he were caught. If they realized it was him, then he would never be able to go to school again! Everyone would think he was a creep, a pervert, even weird. He did not want to be labeled as the guy who had snuck into the girls locker room to watch them change.

He was going to continue listing every illogical reason to look away, but something caught his eye. Two somethings, really. Two big, beautiful, barely concealed somethings that were only a foot away, at most.

Shannon had taken of her gym uniform, and stood before the tiny bug in only her bra and panties. Both pieces of pink fabric gripped her slim body, leaving nothing to the imagination. Nick couldn’t help but drool a tiny bit.

The girl reached into her locker, leaning even closer to the small bug. He looked down, the view of the girls cleavage too much for him to pass up. Up and down her boobs giggled as she tried to open the locker that appeared to be jammed.

With one final pull, and one enormous jiggle, the locker swung open, her cloths falling onto the ground below.  

“Whoops,” she said playfully, adding a giggle full effect. She turned around and bent over to clean up the mess, her heart shaped butt in full view of the horny little fly.

He was eagerly leaning over the ledge now, barely able to control his primitive ergs. This was getting to be too much for him.

Slowly the girl came up, slipping on her mini skirt in the process. Even though it was the dead of winter, Shannon took it upon herself to look as seductive as humanly possible.

The girl grabbed her shirt next, but waited to put it on. She adjusted her breasts, feeling as if they might not be in the perfect position. She cupped her boobs with her hands, and started jiggling them up and down, trying to feel any imperfections. There was none.

Nick didn’t blink the whole time; drool dripping from his mouth and onto the cold metal of the locker.

The girl leaned in to her locker, reaching in the back for her shoes. As she did, she pressed her cleavage up to the locker, directly below the tiny fly.

Thoughts rushed through the boy’s head, not a single one containing anything other that horny fantasies. So, not much different than his normal thoughts. He leaned even further forward, trusting his sticky legs to keep him balanced as he peered over the edge at the dark skinned beauty below.

“Hey Nick!” Macle shouted from behind him, causing the small fly to jump in flight. This was the worst possible action he could have taken, since he was unable to catch himself again. He fell down, straight towards the perky set of breasts below him.

His body hit into hers, the impact being lessened considerably by the squishy object under him. He tried to grab onto something, but the girl’s soft skin didn’t offer him any footholds. The small fly slid down, soon finding himself lodged in the massive beauties cleavage, her warm skin pressing into him from every angle.

Macle eagerly looked over the edge of the locker at the fly’s actions, bursting out in laughter as he slid down between the girl’s breasts. He wanted to surprise the fly, but he didn’t think it would go over this well!

“Oh my god!” Shannon shouted as she pulled away from the locker, easily feeling the trapped fly.

“What?” Carly asked, her own shirt lying carelessly on the ground, along with her sweatpants. She actually dressed for the season she was in.

“This little perverted bug fell into my boobs!” the girl replied as she moved back and forth, shaking her breasts to and fro as if her life depended on looking sexy. Just a force of habit.

She reached inside slowly, her delicate fingers rapping around the fly squirming around between her. She pulled it out, a disgusted look on her face as she looked at his grotesque body.

“Ew!” She shouted as she dropped him to the ground. The girls around her backed up, hating the idea of being so close to something so disturbingly ugly.

“Its so hideous!” one of the girls shouted.

“Its so perverted, and ugly!” another replied.

“Disgusting!”

“Creepy!”

“If it was a boy I would never date him!”

“Yes you would! Your such a whore!”

“Shut up, its so gross!”

“KILL IT!” they all shouted in unison.

Nick didn’t really know what was happening. At first he thought they were screaming about him, but he soon reasoned that this was simply impossible. He considered himself the epitome of beauty, rivaled only by his reflection in the mirror; so to be referred to as “Ugly” was simply not possible.

 “Oh wait,” he said allowed as he recalled the fact that his looks had been taken away from him when he had been turned into a fly. He looked up as a shadow fell over him. Hovering above was the dark form of Carly’s boot, still muddy from her walk to school. “Well that’s not good.”

Her boot fell, squishing the fly instantly, its small body being converted into the slimy paste that it so often became.

“Is it dead?” Ashley asked, hoping that the monster had been defeated. Carly picked her boot up, trails of goo hanging down from its sole.

“Yeah,” she replied. “I think its dead.”

End Notes:

This time the title made sence, YAY!

Good news, I finished this story! No, this was not the final chapter. I still have to read everything over and change a few things, but the hard part is behind me. Just to clear any confusion, there will be more chapters! This is only about half the story.

Still, I can always add more. If you have any ideas don’t be afraid to leave a comment!

You can also email me, but I never check my email. That may not be the best option for you, but whatever. Do what you want.

One last thing, I have a bunch of half finished stories that I want to complete. I could choose one, but what would be the fun in that? So I made another story with the first chapter from each. I’m letting you guys decide. Have fun picking!

Chapter 5: Timing is important by sickpuppies

The girls quickly finished changing, completely forgetting about the crushed bug that lay on the ground. Each time that Nick regained consciousness; one of their massive feet came down, accidently squishing him once again. First it was Shannon, who crushed him using only her socks, then his sister crushed him under her heavy snow boots.

This went on for a little while, until the girls had all changed and left the locker room. After the last girl left, Nick popped back into his normal fly form, unhurt, and undamaged.

He gave a sigh of relief that nothing worse had happened. Then he smiled, recalling all the good that had accrued. He pictured Shannon’s breasts again, those lovely, warm, comforting, bags of goodness that he had the great pleasure of being pressed against. The tiniest bits of sweat dripping down from the period before, the way they jiggled as she moved, like the two sexiest bowls of Jell-O in existence. It might have been the greatest moment of his life so far.

“You alright down there small fly?” Macle called down. “Get it? Instead of small fry I said fly!” Nick looked back up at the boy sitting on the ledge of the locker above.

“Hey!” he called, “Why did you scare me like that!” Macle shrugged.

“I had to tell you something, so I popped in.”

“And why didn’t anyone else see you?” Nick continued in as angry a voice a fly could manage, which wasn’t very convincing since it came out as a high pitched squeak.

“Magic demon,” Macle replied with a smile. “It means I can do whatever I want.”

“Well then why did you come here?”

“Straight to the point, don’t you want to chat for a bit?”

“Not really.”

“Ugh…” Macle moaned as he hopped down from his perch. “Everyone’s always in a rush. Can’t stop for five seconds and talk, oh no. Got places to be, things to see, girls to perve out.”

“Hey!” the fly cut in. “I was never going to do anything more than look until you showed up!”

“Right. I believe you. No really, I do.”

“Go to hell.”

“First let me say what I’ve come to say.” Nick tried to give his most impatient and annoyed look, but being a fly, the effect was lost. After a moment of awkward silence, Macle chose to continue. “I found out that your wish has been deemed expectable to change, on the condition that your new wish be thoroughly thought out first, as it will have a far lower chance of being revoked if you manage to mess that one up to.”

“So I can make a new wish whenever?” Nick said hurriedly and happily. He was enjoying his time as an immortal bug, but being human held more appeal to him.

“No, try to listen this time. You can make a new wish after you have thoroughly thought it out first,” Macle replied with a hint of condescension.

“And what counts as thoroughly thought out?”

Macle shrugged. “I don’t know, bug boy. Just give it some thought.”

“Fine,” Nick relied, a bit irritated. All of this wasn’t even his fault! “Who reviews and manages these wishes anyway?”

The actual process of wish making is a long and drawn out series of events that very few people in the world understand. Its starts with one supernatural being, in this case the snail. It is actually important to note that this snail was in fact no ordinary snail, but the mighty lord TruckZot, banished from his own dying planet by the shadow artist twilight during the Olympus exploration, extermination, and recovery operation. This, as we all know, being the direct result of our good friend Macle taking it upon himself to intervene in the second galactic war on peace, complicating the normally simple mission to new, previously inconceivable heights of difficulty. The tale has been recorded and re-told countless times, but this story will not be one of them.

After lord TruckZot had bargained for his life by giving the boy a wish, he had made contact with the Demon’s Guild of the Dammed, who at that point, assigned a demon to conduct the exchange of wishes. As luck would have it, Macle was assigned.

This might not seem complicated on the outside, but in between are numerous steps dealing mostly with stacks of paperwork. This poses a problem considering that the Demon’s Guild of the Dammed is located in Hell, next to Mt.Firebelcher, and on the banks of lake Rebecca Black. For further information, refer to the best selling novel, Taxes, Miscellaneous Paperwork, the Devil, and You.

So, instead of listing out the many people and organizations involved, Macle chose to answer with, “People. You wouldn’t you them. Anyway, think about your wish, don’t mess it up again, and call me when you’re ready.”

“Wait,” Nick started, trying to force the young wizard to give him some more information.

“See ya!” the boy shouted as a puff of pink smoke enveloped him. It cleared a bit later, leavening the fly coughing uncontrollably, and an empty spot where the wizard had stood.

“That’s great,” Nick mumbled. “What the hell should I wish for?”

End Notes:

You know what i realized? I have written over 100,000 words in all of my different stories. The average novel is about 60,000. WHY WASNT I WRITTING A DMAN NOVEL! Could have published that by now...

Just kiding of cource. I love writting for this site.

Chapter 6: What the hell should he wish for? by sickpuppies

The small fly considered his options for the future. What should his wish be, and more importantly, how could he be sure it wasn’t going to turn around and bite him in the ass like the last one did?

            His pondering was soon interrupted as the door to the locker room squeaked open, signaling a new class coming in to change. The fly briefly debated the idea of staying there and watching another peep show, but decided against it. He had been creepy enough for one day.

            He flew over the girl’s heads, exiting the changing room and flying into the wide-open gym. The distant smell of sweat hung in the air. Not completely overpowering, but the type of stench that grew really old, really quickly. Nick never understood how the gym teachers could spend a full day in it.

            He noticed an open window near the top of the room. Thinking this was probably the best option, he flew to it. Delicately he landed on the windowsill, a cool breeze passing over his small body.

            The day had grown rather pleasant. Surprising given the fact that there was still piles of snow outside from the day before. The skies where clear, the sun hanging high above the school at its normal 10:30 position. He could hear birds chirping some where in the distance, and a lone hawk even patrolled around the forest to his left.

            “Interesting,” Nick thought out loud. “There’s usually not so much life in the winter.”

            He noticed a group of crows below him, scavenging around for some form of food. The thought reminded him that he hadn’t had a good meal since yesterday. Well, unless you counted the pile of syrup, but Nick didn’t.

            He thought briefly about going to the lunchroom, but quickly decided against it. The only food he would be able to find would be on the plates of hungry teenagers. Everyone knows not to get between a teenager and his food.

            “Besides,” he thought out loud to himself. “Lunch foods horrible anyway.”

            With the grace of a newborn giraffe, he jumped down from his high perch and attempted to glide down to the ground. To the untrained eye, this would have appeared more like an attempt to attack the ground with his face, but no one cares enough about a fly to judge.

            He nose dived into a thick patch of snow, thankfully breaking his fall more than his face did. He shook bits of snow off as he pulled himself out of the pile, grumbling angrily to himself.

            “Stupid gravity,” he said, among other, less PG things. 

            But he froze his movements as an icy screech filled his ears. A shadow fell over him. The wind blew, sending clouds of snow rolling past the tiny fly.

            Slowly he turned around, knowing what must be behind him.

            “Hy,” he said meekly to the giant, black raven. It didn’t answer back. The raven had a strong policy against talking to its food.

            It launched its beak forward, attempting to grab the tiny fly between its monstrous jaws, but Nick was just able to avoid it.

            “Wait!” he shouted, as if it could do him any good.

            Again the bird tried to bite him, but once again missing, its bill burring deep into the snow.

            He pulled it out quickly, now growing slightly annoyed with the insect. Who did it think it was, trying to avoid becoming its lunch? It was a bug, and therefor needed to be eaten by higher life forms. That was just how things were done!

            The raven hopped forward, giving up on his attempt at catching the bug in his beak. Instead, the bird chose to simply squash the insect. He could eat its remain off the ground later, if he felt like it.

            Nick frantically tried to avoid the bird’s talons as they came crashing around him, leaving deep indents in the snow. His movements were slowing though, and his breath was fleeing from him. There was no way he could keep this up forever.

            Then he slipped. One of his legs caught on a sheet of ice, and the others tangled up trying to compensate. He crashed to the ground, looking up just in time to see the ravens foot hanging above him.

            He could have sworn that the bird was grinning at him. With one quick movement, the bird slammed his foot down, crushing the back half of the fly under his foot. Then, just to be sure he got him, the raven started grinding his foot, crushing whatever was left of the bug with a satisfying squelch.

            “Stupid bug,” the raven said. “Never try and disobey your higher beings.”

            He lifted his talon up, fly guts streaming from his foot to the mass of organs below. It looked appetizing. The bird was about to take a bite when he heard the squeak of an unoiled door behind him.

            A couple of humans stepped out, talking about something no one cared about. The bird cursed to himself. It looked like he wouldn’t get that meal after all.

            He hastily took off, seeking to avoid the annoying children at all costs.

            It only took a few minutes for Nick to reform into his former fly self.

            “Ah,” he said out loud. “Guess that bird decided to run away. Good choice. No one wants to mess with me!” He jumped as he heard the loud screech of a raven not to far away. “Better leave before he comes back with more of his goons.” Hurridly he jumped into the air, his wings beating violently as he attempted to fly away.

            There wasn’t too much around that looked appealing. He could go back into the school, but he had enough of that for now. If he stayed out in the open, some birds might come back for him.

            So it seemed he only had one choice, the woods that were just beyond the schools edge. It seemed as good a place as any, and at least there he wasn’t going to find any giant humans to step on him, and he would have a much better chance of escape if a bird saw him.

            “I’m sure nothing bad could happen in the woods!” he said optimistically to himself.

End Notes:

Get ready, the next few chapters have some animals in them. Its goning to be fun. Trust me on that.

Chapter 7: The bad things that happen in the woods by sickpuppies

The funny thing about trees is… nothing. There is nothing humorous about trees. No jokes that can be made, no puns to groan at. Absolutely nothing. That being said, the following chapter will contain no tree related comedy.

 

            “Hey,” Chippy the squirrel said to his companion, Dimmy.

            “What?” Dimmy replied.

            “What is a tree’s favorite subject in school?”

            “Gee, I don’t know. I’m stumped.”  

            “Chemistree!”

            “Hoho!” Dimmy laughed. “How about this! What do you call a tree that’s always envious?”

            “What?”

            “An evergreen!”

            “That was so bad, I’m going to have to leaf.

            “Don’t leave yet. Remember, good things come in trees.

            “True! What is a trees favorite movie?”

            “What?”

            “Forest Gump!”

            “Oh shut it!” Wally the badger shouted. “I hate tree jokes.”

            “Don’t worry,” Chippy replied. “They’ll grow on you!”

            “Shut up or I’ll come up there and eat you!” the badger shouted.

            “Hey Chippy,” Dimmy said to his friend. “Don’t worry, I’ve heard his bark is worse than his bight!”

            “I got one!” Chippy turned back to the badger. “We’re peaceful squirrels. If you want a fight, you’re barking up the wrong tree!”

            “I hate you all!” The badger mumbled as he lumbered away.

            “I think we got to the root of the problem,” both squirrels said in unison, falling down in laughter soon after.

 

            Nick carelessly flew through the forest, the trees starring him down menacingly. The tiny fly felt small, even more than usual. But he did not feel threatened, in fact he was really comfortable in the forest. He could hear birds chirping not far off, but he was not worried. He saw two squirrels laughing on a branch, but still he felt no fear. This was a safe place.

            He flew in a wide ark around a particularly large tree, the slight breeze helping him on his way. Then, as if a miracle had chosen to plop itself down right in his path, he found himself face to face with a pear tree.

            “What luck!” he shouted as he sped over to the tree, who’s fruit had matured to the perfect age to eat. Rather impossible considering it was the dead of winter, but Nick had long since given up on logic. It seemed to have gotten lost somewhere. Or was it, STOLEN!!!!! Did this just become a mystery story?

            Nick landed happily on the first pear he saw, digging his fly face into the succulent fruit, slurping up all that he could. His belly was filling fast, the juices of the pear sliding down his face. This was perfect!

            So complete was his focus on the pear that he didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind him. The careful clip-clop of hooves on the hard ground, or the low groans the creature made as it came upon the pear tree.

            “Yes!” the deer practically shouted to himself. “I freeking LOVE pears, even more than I love tree puns! And look, there’s the perfect pear, right there!” The young stag craned his neck to reach the perfect fruit, and was just able to grip the bottom portion of it with his mouth. Eagerly he pulled down, breaking the pears stem, sending it falling to the ground below.

            It was at this moment that Nick realized he was not alone. He tore himself away from the pear just before it impacted with the ground, saving himself some injury. Still, he did not have time to truly right himself, and crashed into the ground with a rather loud thud.

            “This is going to be soooooooo good,” the deer said as he bent down. “Wait!” he said as he caught sight of the fly that was now stumbling around, trying to find its balance. “Hey fly!” he yelled at the bug. “There is no way I’m letting you touch my pear.”

            “Fine!” Nick shouted back up, annoyed at the sudden change of things. “I’ll just take another one!”

            “No!” the deer replied. “Flies don’t deserve any fruit. You need to be dealt with.”

            “Oh,” Nick mumbled, knowing full well what was to come next. “Please don’t.”

            The deer lifted his front foot into the air above Nick’s head, crushed blades of grass stuck to the hoof by layers of dried on dirt. He had no time to avoid it. With a deafening boom, the deer slammed his foot into the ground, stomping the fly into mush.

            Nick’s body molded to the deer’s hoof, his exoskeleton cracking, and his guts popping once again. Before he lost consciousness, he had time to think, “I’m sycamore of getting stepped on.”

            The deer bent down, happily munching on his new treat, unbothered by any more flies, or the one that was under his foot. Every once in a while he would move, take a step forward or back, but most of Nick’s body remained trapped on the under side of the deer’s hoof, reforming just before it landed, once again crushing him into bug paste.

            Soon the deer finished his meal. He craned his neck to the sky, noticing the thick foliage above, and said, “Guess I should be going. Not much seems to be happening around here.”

            In fact there was a lot happening around there at that very moment, but since this manly entailed a badger trying to climb a tree, rather unsuccessfully, while two squirrels ridiculed him with a seemingly infinite supply of tree related puns, the deer chose not to count it.

            So he scampered away, going deeper into the forest, each well placed step once again crushing the tiny fly. Eventually Nick did fall off, but it had not been a fun ride.

            “Ugh,” Nick groaned as he tried to stand up, his head spinning all around him. He could hear the deer running off in the distance. “Yeah, you better run,” he managed to say before falling over again. “Silly deer, thinking that just because it weighs over a thousand times my weight it could kill me. IMORTALITY BITCH!”

            He was about to close his eyes and allow the cool air to nestle him into unconsciousness when a chirping sound echoed in his ears. Immediately he sat bolt upright, alert and focused.

            “Oh, not again,” he moaned as the chirping sounded again, only closer. He turned around finding a carnal hopping closer and closer to him. He had to admit, it was a beautiful bird, the red of its body standing out amazingly against the green of the forest, and the white of the snow.

            “Well look at this!” the cardinal said happily. “A muddy little fly volunteering to be my lunch.”

            “Wait,” Nick said quickly, moving back as he said it. “I’m no ones lunch!”

            “You’re a bug. That makes you my lunch.”

            “I’m not a bug!” he shouted, starting to get annoyed. He knew he looked like a fly, but damn it he had dignity!

            “You have wings, are small, have a black body, two gross eyes. I’m going out on a limb and saying you’re a fly. And I eat flies. Now stop moving so I can eat you!” The bird dove its beak down at the bug, but Nick was used to dodging things. He moved out of the way just in time.

            “Come on!” he shouted. “Can’t you give a guy a break?”

            “No!” the bird shouted, positioning itself for another strike. It moved quickly, its beak digging into the dirt that Nick had been standing on only moments before. But, Nick is a clumsy fly, and managed to trip yet again.

            “Hah!” the bird said as it stood above the bug. “Got you now!”

            The cardinal was able to engulf Nick’s entire body in one bight. Within a second, the bird had swallowed him down, a small bulge slipping down its throat. With a plop, the fly landed in its belly. The meal had been beaten.

            “Not a bug,” the cardinal said sarcastically. “Well you sure tasted like one!”

End Notes:

You made it through all those puns! Good job!

Did you cringe as much as i did? I cringed a lot.

Chapter 8: The slow digesting process by sickpuppies

Nick tumbled about inside the cardinal’s stomach, the bird’s acids coating his body. It burned, it was dark, every time the bird moved he was tossed about, but the worst part had to be the smell. Like an odd mix of expired milk, compost, and a healthy mix of random bugs and worms.

            “Hey!” Nick shouted, a splash of the birds stomach acid finding a place within his mouth. He gagged, but soon continued with his useless rant. “Get me out!”

            He couldn’t see anything; witch was probably a good thing. Who knows what half-digested bugs could have been floating in the cardinal’s belly? Every once in a while a chunk of food would bump into him, causing him to jump as if it had been a monster trying to drag him down to the deepest pits of hell.

            Soon he realized that there was nothing that he could do about the situation. He sat down, leaning up against the walls of the bird’s stomach.

            “Guess there isn’t much I can do,” he thought to himself. He would usually have said it out loud, but he didn’t wish to swallow another mouthful of bird acid. The stuff tasted nasty.

             His waiting continued for a while. The bird hopped around cheerfully, pecking through masses of dirt and soil in search of more snacks to devour. It didn’t find any bugs, but seeds would do just as well.

            “Hugh,” the bird said, looking into the sky, the sun directly overhead. “Guess its time to get back. The kids will probably be hungry by now.”

            The cardinal jumped into the air, flying gracefully off to her home.

            It was not a long trip, nor was it eventful. The flight was the same as always, save for a badger chasing after two squirrels with a fury matched only by the ancient Huns of China.

            She soon landed on her nest, perched high in an old oak tree that had stubbornly refused to shed its leaves, even after the dense snow falls. As soon as she landed, she was greeted with a chorus of chirps and squeaks from her five babies.

            Whenever the mother bird was asked about her children, she would always say that they were beautiful little darlings. This was not the case. If you have ever seen a baby bird you will know that they look more like a naked mole rat that had been run over, pecked at by a vulture, then left in the sun for far to long, than anything resembling cute.

            The cardinal knew that her children were hungry from the moment she landed, their little heads bobbing in front of each others, all in a desperate attempt to be fed first.  

            “Ok, settle down.” She said as she leaned in. “There’s plenty for all of you.”

 

            Nick was growing quit comfortable in his new prison. The walls were wet and slimy, but it was warm. He had space to move around, nothing was crushing him, somehow he could breath, and he was even gifted with warmth you simply could not find during the winter.

            This was all ended, rather harshly, as the bird’s stomach contracted, forcing its contents back into her throat. The tiny fly fought back the erg to scream, knowing full well what would fill his mouth if he did. Up and up he was forced, until the light of day once again came into view.

            It was the most beautiful thing in the world after being trapped for so long in complete darkness. More beautiful than the U.S.A to an invading alien species, more desirable than an Oscar to Leonardo DiCaprio, and even more heavenly than a slice of cake to a 400 pound woman who had been on a diet for a whole three hours. He rushed towards it, finally being flung into the heavenly air.

For a second, all was right in the world. There was no war, no famine, no dead babies, all was perfect. Then everything came rushing into focus. He was being dropped into the mouth of a new predator!

            “No!” he screamed, flapping his acid drenched wings in desperation. Although he was unable to take off, he was able to adjust his coerce just enough to miss the baby’s mouth, bouncing off its body onto the nest below.

            He struggled to move, trying to get away from the horrific feeding frenzy around him. One of the babies kicked him, sending him carrying across the nest. Struggling to lift himself to his feet, the chicks scampering around him, pushing him back down to the ground each time one of them decided to walk over him.

            “Stop damn it!” he shouted after one of the chicks used him as a stepping stool to reach that much higher above the rest. He tried crawling again, working his way over to the side of the nest.

            Exhausted, he pulled himself to the edge of the thorny home, looking over at the five-story plunge to the ground. His wings were still wet, and there was little chance he could fly. He glanced back at the feeding frenzy.

            For a second, he was reminded of black Friday. People rushing around, stampeding like a herd of wild buffalo. He fondly recalled one year when he had stayed home and just watched videos about the chaos all day long. There was an old lady walking around, just looking for a deal. She saw something that she liked, walked over to the shelf, and reached for the item, the very last of its kind..

            At the moment her old fingers rapped around the box, another lady appeared out of nowhere, snatching the box with a blood curling yell similar to that of a Mongolian warlord. The old lady was not intimidated however. The second the other turned around, the old lady tackled her to the ground, screaming death slurs the likes of which shouldn’t even be spoken at a Satanist convention.

            The police showed up soon, only to be caught in the spectacle of a 70 year old grandma beating the living hell out of the other with her handbag. It took three of them to pry the two apart.

            The spectacle that was going on in front of Nick did not even compare to that of Black Friday, but it was close. This made the decision that much easier.

            He jumped, falling like a stone towards the ground below. “Hello ground!” he said happily moments before impact.

            Soon the fly woke up from his unconsciousness, completely unhurt. This immortality thing really had its up sides.

            “Ah,” he said as he rose to his feet. “Perfect landing, as always.” He flapped his wings once, and found that most of the bird puke had come off. At least now he could fly again.

            He briefly considered the idea of staying in the forest a while longer, but was quickly convinced otherwise when he heard the chirping of the baby birds above.

            “Screeeeeeeeewwwwwwww that,” he shouted as he flew away, back to the school. At least his hot classmates tortured him there.

            The old brick and mortar prison that Nick called a school soon came back into view, the trees fading away behind him.

            “Good riddance,” Nick said as he zoomed out. “But what now?”

End Notes:

Yay, no more lame puns!

 

Chapter 9: what Now? by sickpuppies
Author's Notes:

Alright, I know i said that i was planing to do the horse thing next, but this fits in better. But don't worry, its coming! Probably after three more chapters.

The bug flew up to the building before him, not knowing if it was truly the best idea or not. Only a few feet away were hundreds of giants, each of whom could crush him in an instant. Then again, he was immortal, so that wasn’t all that threatening.

            The bigger issue was what to do. He had fun in the girl’s locker room, but he was no longer in the mood to hide and watch people strip. He recalled the events in the forest. Being stepped on by the deer, then being eaten by the bird. It was so gross. Being slowly digested, mixing with the countless other bugs the bird had eaten that day. Swimming in a bath of organs and acid.

            “Oh!” he said happily. “I could eat something!” It was the first time things around him had been calm enough for the bug to notice the low growling in his stomach. That pear had been tasty, but he hadn’t eaten much of it before he was so rudely interrupted.  

            The small fly roamed around for a bit, trying to find something appetizing, or at least something fun. Sadly nothing interesting seemed to pop up

He circled around the large, square room that he knew to be the lunch hall. All sorts of smells wafted up from the exhaust vents, some of which were actually pleasant. A rare accomplishment for the lunch staff.

Finding an entrance proved to be more of a challenge than he had hoped for. All of the windows had been closed due to the cold, as well as the doors.

The fly plopped down on a windowsill, looking into the lunchroom hopefully. The sheer ferocity with which the students attacked their lunches with was simply stunning. He watched as one boy attempted to shove an entire sloppy Joe sandwich into his mouth, spilling half of its contents on the plate below him. It was like watching a nature documentary about crocodiles that hadn’t eaten in months when a heard of gazelle try and cross the river, only the gazelle seemed to have a greater chance of survival than the lunches.

A low mumbling echoed from the fly’s gullet, reminding him just how hungry he was. How he wished he could just jump into a plate of pasta, or dive into a bowl of soup. Eat all he wanted, and never be forced to slurp up a discarded drop of syrup from off the ground.

   As he sat, fantasizing about a delicious lunch that seemed too far away to ever become reality, a buzzing entered his ears. He turned, trying to find the source of the sound.

“Oh great,” he said as he saw what was making the aggravating noise. Another fly, only bigger, fatter, uglier, and simply more repugnant, than any other fly Nick had seen in his life. It hummed through the air, its greasy wings slowly beating up and down, to lazy to put any real effort in.

As it came closer, a stench enveloped Nick. It was not the normal type of stench a wild animal would have, not even if it had been rolling around in its own feces. It was as if this fly had found a landfill, built a home there, absorbed the stench of thousands of years of waist, and then decided that it wasn’t enough. 

If a thousand whale carcasses suddenly appeared on the beach, each one decaying in the summer sun, it would not have compared to the reek of this fly. Imagine a public carnival during the summer. Now imagine the dirty public bathroom at that carnival, only it was never washed, ever, and had recently been visited by a group of burley bikers who had eaten two hundred dollars worth of Taco Bell. If you are able to imagine this site, and not pass out from sheer terror, than imagine the minimum wage employee who is then told to clean the mess up. If you could convert that man’s terror into stench, you might come close to that of this fly.

It landed on the windowsill next to Nick, stink lines practically radiating out from its thickness. It turned to the boy, its black eyes coated with a layer of slime. Disgustingly, it swaggered over to Nick, one thought in its mind.

“Hey baby,” it said in its best sexy voice. “You looking for a good time?”

If a fly had ever actually managed to display emotion on its face, it was nothing compared to the look of complete disgust that Nick now displayed.

“What?” he managed to ask after a good minute of trying to comprehend what was happening.

“I know I’m stunning,” the fly said in a deep voice as it flexed its muscles. “But you’re pretty cute to, so you wanna do something?”

What the hell was happening? Only a few seconds ago, Nick had been quietly fantasizing about food. Now it looked as if he would never eat again without fears of throwing up.

“You know,” the bug continued, still using its most seductive tone. “I know a great trash can with our names on it.” If a fly could wink, this one did.

“I think I’ll pass,” Nick finally managed to say. Evan as he did, he could feel the juices in his stomach fighting to jump from his mouth.

The other bug was stunned. Never in its whole life had it been turned down. Not even once. It had worked for hours and hours to become the most disgusting, repugnant being in the whole world. He should have been able to confidently lay any fly he so chose. What was happening? Was he not disgusting? Were his layers of slime not thick enough? Were his wings not greasy enough, or was it his body? He could always put on a few more ounces, but he didn’t think it would matter.

It stumbled off the ledge, to stunned to even speak, and flew back to its dumpster where it preceded to binge eat garbage, all in an attempt to regain its repulsiveness.

After the thing had left, Nick turned back to the lunchroom. His appetite had been diminished, but it returned with a new ferocity once he saw a student devoured a large slice of pizza as if it was nothing. Rich, red, gooey sauce dripping down onto his shirt, the smell almost coming through the window. He needed to get in there.

Gracefully he jumped from the windowsill, flying around the room, hoping to find some sort of opening that he had missed. On his third loop around, he noticed a dumpster packed to the top, and the slightest amount of movement. He buzzed in closer, only to find the giant fly from before, crying, and gorging on a discarded apple core.

Nick flew away as fast as his wings would let him.

Life seemed to loose some of its meaning by the seventh trip around. Being so close to such an oases of taste and smells, yet being trapped outside, doomed to never taste the sweet lunch food of public school. He pressed his face against a window, hoping that somehow he could transverse the glass, but nothing happened. Glass has a tendency to stay solid, no matter how much you would wish otherwise.

If you really wanted to, you could change one large sheet of glass into many much smaller pieces, but this often resulted in injury, looking like an idiot if it was unintentional, looking like a brute if it was, and worst of all, the scattering of thousands of tiny, sharp shards of glass that are impossible to see, will always cut you, and will continue to turn up even years after the incident. For these reasons, it is not recommended that you break glass.

Nick was an intelligent fly, and as such, the reasons listed above played no part in his decision to fly away in search of a different entrance.

As he circled low to the ground, he caught sight of movement, slow as it was. He turned, and headed for the tiny thing on the ground, partially because he hoped it would know how to get inside, and mostly because he was growing board.

He discovered as he drew closer, that the tiny amount of movement was coming from a snail by one of the doors. Its yellow shell stood out against the inch or so of snow that covered the ground around it. Its eyes bobbed and weaved in the slight wind.

Nick couldn’t shake the feeling that he had seen the snail before. Something about the thick slime trail it left in its wake, or the way its eyes seemed to squint in hatred whenever the wind blew.

The fly landed behind the creature, shaking off the tiny amount of snow that powdered his back.

“What do you want?” the snail asked quickly, obviously annoyed by the mere presence of the boy. The nasty attitude stirred something in Nick, and he was quickly able to recall where he knew the snail from.

“You’re the snail from the sidewalk!” he shouted in surprise as he rushed over to the bug.

The snail scoffed at him. “No, I’m not stupid enough to go on any sidewalks.”

“No,” Nick insisted. “Your defiantly the same snail.”

“Listen,” the snail said, turning its eye stocks towards the fly. “I know that flies are one of the least intelligent creatures on this earth, but try to get this through that thick, fat, skull of yours. I don’t know you. I never did know you, and I don’t want to know you now. So how about you take your disgusting, garbage eating body, and crawl up something else’s ass? (Foreshadowing perhaps?) That sound like something you could do?”

Nick, undeterred and unoffended, pushed on. “I know you’re the same snail. Don’t try to say otherwise.”

“Oh, I get it,” the snail replied with an attitude that closely resembled that of Nick’s sister when she was on her period. Not actually mean, but bitchy. “You think that all snails look the same, don’t you? Where just one big colony of air swallowing, cheesecake eating, racecar driving, penguin tail steeling inbreeds, don’t you?” These, of course, where stereotypes of the highest offence that plagued the snail community, at least with other bugs.  

The term, air swallowing, came from the fact that slugs did not breath, but gulped down air, much as a drowning man does after he is rescued from the clutches of a giant squid, and is pulled from the water into a rather sizable finishing boat.

Cheesecake eating comes from France, where cheesecake is often times thrown out, simply because there is to damn much of it. This being the case, France has been thought of as the leader in bug/cheesecake interactions. France is also known for eating snails. So, when a snail is called a cheesecake eater, it is basically saying that they are a snail in France, and will therefor be eaten by a smelly French man.

Racecar driving is not a stereotype, the snail simply could not think of another quickly enough. In fact, most snails’ dream of going at high speeds, so being a racecar driver would be horrible. A snail doesn’t know how to drive, so they would crash almost instantly. Come to think of it, this would actually be a decent insult.

The final slur is from unknown origins, but has been around since the time of the dinosaurs. Even the great snail historians have failed to find an actual meaning behind it. Not surprising given the fact that snails are generally poor at archeology. The saying has never changed since then, and most likely will never change.

“No!” Nick burst out. As a white kid, he was always jumpy around any mention of racism, even if it was to snails.

“Save it planet buster!” the snail shouted. “Just leave me alone!”

The phrase, planet buster, comes from a long ago story where a fly flew into a very important piece of machinery that resulted in the cataclysmic explosion that doomed planet H-Raven, the Galactic Rebellion, and thousands of poor, defenseless, snails. This is, by the very definition of life, truth, and bug kind, a story for another time.

The cold iron door behind the pair of insects swung open, a blast of warm air flying out from the exposed crack. Nick noticed the movement, but the poor snail, enveloped so completely with its rant against the fly, was caught off guard.

“Hey dude, its cold out here,” a human said above them as he walked out of the door, stepping over the pair. Nick looked up in surprise as the giant walked overhead. Meanwhile, the snail was beginning to turn a nasty shade of red as its anger grew, spewing hate slang in such a quantity that had not been heard since Mel Gibson first became angry with a black person.

Lets all take a moment to recall the fact that Mel Gibson once said, “Get raped by a pack of niggers.” My favorite part of that is the fact that he said, pack.

It was because of this that Nick felt almost no sorrow when the giant behind the first one stepped out into the world, and onto the tiny snail. With a crunch, all aspects of the snail where erased from existence, its body crumbling under the massive weight of the high school student.

“Who,” the boy said as he lifted his shoe, gunk trailing from the sole of his foot to the ground. “I think I stepped in something.”

Nick didn’t wait to find out what happened next, or even to marvel at the speed at which karma worked. Scents poured out of the lunchroom, enveloping his entire being. He wafted, much like a character would do in a cartoon, into the lunchroom, the door swinging shut behind him.

“Damn,” the crumpled form of the snail said. “Just when I was so close to world domination.”

End Notes:

I had pasta and meetball for dinner tonight. Just one big ass meetball on top of pasta.

 

Chapter 10: Soup Is Good For the Soul, Not the Body by sickpuppies

I had originally written more, but I felt like it would be best to cut a bit out. It ended up being a bunch of chapters all about how Nick was trapped in the lunchroom and a few fun events that happened in that time. After re-reading, I found that there was barely any humor involved, so I deleted the chapters. I know what my people want, and that is defiantly not giant related smut.

 

“Hey,” Sam said, a freshman that had been enjoying a slice of pizza. “There’s a fly in your soup.”

            “Holy shit Sam,” Jake exclaimed in annoyance as he turned to his friend. “You make lame jokes every second of the day, but I will honestly throw you in a leach infested swamp if you finish that one!”
            Sam looked at his friend with a face that failed to show even the slightest of emotions. “Okay then, enjoy your soup.”

            “Thank you,” Jake said honestly as he turned back to his bowl. His eyes widened when he saw the small bug floating in the red liquid. He glanced back at Sam, who was laughing to himself. “Don’t say a god damned thing.” Jake stood up, taking his tray to the garbage can.

 

            Nick had launched himself into the nearest food item his bug eyes found, which happened to be the tomato soup he was now swimming in. The delicious taste was like nothing he had ever known before. Even though it was terrible by normal standards, it was a delicacy to a fly.

            The tiny bug soon lost all sense of where he was, and the potential dangers that surrounded him. So complete was his ecstasy that he didn’t even notice the few sips Jake had taken, or the fact that he was being walked over to the trashcan.

            It was only when the soup was poured out that Nick regained his composure. He tumbled through the air, his wings weighed down by the thick soup that clung to his body like newborn clings to its mother. No matter how much you want it to just leave you alone for five freaking minutes, it holds tight.

Nick landed on a plastic lunch tray, soup poring onto him like a magnificent, blood red waterfall. It stopped soon, and the bowl was tossed down, landing lightly on top of the small fly.

Quickly, Nick shook his head; trying to retch himself from the hypnosis the food had put him in. As he looked around, he noticed that he was not in total darkness, as he had expected. Instead, he was bathed in a faint, yellow glow. Smells assaulted his nasal cavities, but they weren’t the normal, beautiful, scents of food that had been so enticing. The stench of a multitude of half eaten lunches combined, forming a smell that no one would be attracted to. Except that fly that Nick had met outside. He would probably love it.

The tiny flyboy crawled around the slimy plate, trying to find some way to free himself from the bowl that surrounded him.

“Well,” he said allowed to himself, his high voice echoing off the walls of the bowl. “Guess worse things could happen.” He started scooting around the bowls edge, hoping to find a small opening he might have missed. “I could have been stepped on again, or eaten alive, or sat on, or baked into a pie…” He reached the point he started at. It didn’t appear as if there was a way to escape, but he wasn’t one to loose hope. He started on another lap around. “Or worse yet, I could be trapped in here with that ugly ass fly. Or another snail. Man, screw snails.”

He stopped as he heard a few unintelligible sounds above him. A crash echoed through his prison as more food was dropped into the bin. The giant’s plate came next, crashing down on the flimsy bowl that held Nick captive, splitting it in two with a massive smash.

Nick jumped, the plate having missed him by only a few inches. His heart was pounding, but he soon regained himself. After all, he wasn’t trapped anymore.

He crawled out from between the cracks of the dinnerware, once again free to bask in the artificial light that bathed the cafeteria. Not the nice artificial light that you could find at a high-end business though. This was the type of light that had a yellow tinge to it. The type that would always give you a headache if you spent more than an hour near it, whether that be because of the slightly putrid sent, the annoying buzzing of exactly one lamp per room, or the vast amounts of toxic chemicals they were undoubtedly pumping out. These factors made the lights cheep, and so were absolutely perfect to be installed in a school.

Nick flapped his buggy wings. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to like them. The light played off them so smoothly, like the suns reflection off of a serine lake.

Unknown substances flew from his wings as he tried to take off. He found he was unable to, the discarded waist he had fallen in still clinging to his hairy body.

“Ugh,” He groaned as he realized that he was still trapped. “Does this really need to happen? Does it!” No one responded. “And where’s that wizard kid anyway?”

Just as he asked that, calling the question to the heavens above, as if by magic, nothing happened. So Nick continued to flap his wings, attempting to dry them quicker.

He was safe for a few moments, but fate grows bored rather quickly.

 

Some unknown freshman walked over to the yellow lunch bin, a plate of mostly eaten burrito in his hands. He was engrossed in conversation with his friend, and so was unaware of the small fly below.

Nick looked up as the sound of conversation grew closer. He saw the boy above him, holding the tray of food over the trashcan.

“I know what your thinking,” Nick said allowed, aware that there was no chance the boy would hear him. “But let me tell you something about some poor kids in Africa that deserve that food more than me.”

He didn’t even have time to finish his ramblings before the freshman released the tray, its contents plummeting towards the small boy below.

A mass of ground meet plopped onto him, pushing him down to the cold plate he had been standing on. The aroma of hot sauce penetrated his nostrils, wafting up to his brain where he could feel it eating away at his nerve endings. It was not because it was so spicy, but because the unbelievable blandness of it was too much for any mortal to truly comprehend.

Grumbling continuously, the fly managed to dig his way free of the burrito mess. Once again his eyes were exposed to the annoying lighting.

“This better not go on for a while,” he said with a grimace as he pulled the rest of his body out of the pit of unknown meats. Well, meat is an assumption.

That went on for a while. A continuous cycle of students finishing their lunches and dumping them into the garbage, covering Nick in piles of mostly eaten food, preventing his escape.

“Really!” he called up as nearly three fourths of a sandwich barely missed him. “You barely even ate it!”

“So,” a voice started from behind him. Nick turned slowly, knowing all to well the source. “Having fun?” the now shrunken, but still short, wizard asked.

“Not as much as I was,” Nick responded.

“Yeah, I got that impression. Watching stuff get pilled on top of you isn’t that fun.”

“Wait,” Nick said, catching something in the boy’s last sentence. “You’ve been watching me?”

“Yep,” Macle replied happily. “The whole time. Up to now it was amazing.” Nick groaned loudly, more for effect than anything.

“I’m not even surprised,” he said after the moan had gone on long enough.

“That’s why I’m here anyway.” Nick continued to stare at him Blankley, which was even more unnerving since he was a fly. “I’m going to make it so you can fly again!” Macle had lost none of his pleasant mood.

“Thanks,” Nick said, surprised. He never actually thought that the small demon would do something helpful. “Just, please don’t mess it up.”

“Oh my deer fly,” Macle said as he started moving his hands in seemingly random motions. “I never messed anything up.”

A cloud of pink smoke with sparkles appeared around the fly, circling around him in a puff of magic. By the time the thick smog dispersed, Nick was completely cleaned, and the little demon had vanished once again.

Quickly he tested his wings, and sure enough, he lifted into the air.

“Ha!” Nick laughed, amazed that everything was actually working out. He could hear another person approaching, so he quickly shot up, flying into the open air and out of the horrible entrapment that was the garbage can.

End Notes:

Just want to make some things clear, I didn’t actually cut anything out, so don’t spam the comments section begging me to add it in. But don’t worry; the next chapter will have some more action in it. (I plan to post it soon. Like today soon.)

Chapter 11: Almost at the end by sickpuppies

Gleefully the fly buzzed around the lunchroom, enjoying the stale air that rushed past his face. He was free again, and it looked like nothing could bring him down again.

            “Like, Oh my god,” Britney exclaimed. “There’s a totally disgusting fly!” Britney was a senior in high school whom Nick had, at one point in time, had a crush on. This was until he talked to her and realized she had an IQ somewhere between pile of cow dung, and the color blue.

            It may be important to note that the cow dung discussed in the last paragraph was intended to be made from a cow native to earth, as apposed to the cows on planet H-Raven. H-Raven cows are similar to earth cows in every way, except that their turds are very intelligent. When one was given an S.A.T test, it received a 660. This is amazing considering that it was a pile of cow feces, and because it had no limbs to hold the pencil with. It is still unknown how it actually managed to complete the task.

One of these turds was responsible, in part, for the destruction of planet H-Raven, but that is a story that will be told in a time and place that is something other than this one.

            The color blue, for this to be accurate, must be a normal shade of blue, and not the super intelligent shade of blue as is seen in the book, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, which I have been ripping of since page one.  

            Nick’s first conversation with Britney was about how she had just been given a new car for her birthday, a bright pink mustang with a hydraulics system, and nitrous. She had been asking, for the past year mind you, for a bright pink mustang convertible with hydraulics. Being the person she was, she was overjoyed at the gift and completely looked over the small imperfection.

            She did however crash it into the head of the statue of liberty. It is still unknown how. When questioned about it, she said, “Well, I was like, driving. Its not easy, Okay?”

            Normally she would never dare to touch a fly, or even to look at one, but today was a special occasion. Early in the day one of her friends told her a joke, which she had not been able to understand. This annoyed her to no end, and she could not stop thinking about it. This put her in a very negative mood.

            The joke was as followed. What is the difference between a black person, and Batman? Batman can go to the store without robin.

            I would like to take a moment to say that racism is not Okay, but it can be really funny.

            Britney was many things, but she was not a comic book nerd. She was a racist, however. Many years ago she had had a nanny to take care of her. The woman was Pilipino, didn’t speak English well, but did her job. So one day, when Britney was extremely bored, she went up to her father and said, “Daddy, the Mexican stole my money.”

            Her father, with a stern look on his face, replied, “Probably to by landscaping equipment.”

            Again, racism is not Okay, but can be funny.

            Since she was in such a bad mood, she acted on impulse, not even thinking about her perfect nails. She swatted at the fly, managing to hit it square in its fat little body.

            “EW!” She screamed as she realized what she had done.

 

            Nick fought to control himself as he tumbled through the air, his head still spinning from the hit.  He saw the floor above him, realized that this is not how it was supposed to be, tried to correct himself, and wound up in a thick layer of pudding.

            “Oh god!” Nick said as he tried to pry himself from the death trap. “Vanilla. Why did it have to be vanilla!?”

            Amy was a freshman girl, long brown hair flowing almost down to her waist that matched her dark brown eyes. Her wide smile never left her face, always exposing adorable, tiny dimples in her cheeks. She sat at her lunch table, talking with her friends, completely unaware of the small little bug that had managed to find its way into her dessert.

            She placed her flimsy, plastic spoon into the white goo, scooping up a thick chunk, along with the little buggy.

            “Wait!” Nick shouted desperately as he tried to retch himself away from the goo. “Vanilla pudding is terrible!”

            He entered into the gapping cavity that was her mouth, the air turning hot and wet. Her mouth closed, all light shut out from Nick’s newest prison. He could feel her pulling the spoon out, her lip scraping everything on the spoon onto her tongue

            Nick fell onto her thick, wet muscle, spit now adhering itself to his body along with the disgusting pudding. She swished the substances around in her mouth for a few seconds, the fly being tossed around like the helpless food scrap it was.

            “Wait,” Nick said desperately. “If you swallow me, you’ll get fat!”

            The girl didn’t hear him, nor would she have cared. She swallowed all that was in her mouth, bug and all. The contents dripped down her throat, the warm, squishy muscles pushing Nick lower and lower.

            Finally they stopped, and he dropped into a narrow opening he could only assume was her stomach.

            “Great,” he said. “I guess this is my punishment for failing biology. A full tore of a girl’s digestive track. Oxygen not included.”

End Notes:

So, anyone got any good plans for the summer? Me, I’m probably going to go out, make some friends, party hard, get wasted. You know, the norm.

Or, sit at home and write my life away. Whatever.

Chapter 12: Ya’ll ready for some full tore vore!? by sickpuppies

After a while, Nick began to hum the tune of Live and Let Die. Partially because it seemed fitting for the moment, but mostly because he was bored. Really bored. He had expected to be churned into mulch within a few minutes; the girls stomach acid digesting him into a warm fly flavored paste. This had not been the case.

            He sat alone in her tummy, the random food particle drifting into him every once in a while. The air was wet and heavy, and her heartbeat was almost defining. Her movements were enough to toss him about, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

            “Hey!” he shouted in vain after a particularly bad shaking. “Some of us are trying to get digested in peace!” Obviously no one heard him.

            He settled back down into the warm bath of acid. “Wish I could just get out of this mess.”

            “Wish you say?” a voice called to him from across the stomach. He turned his head just in time to witness a tiny pyro techniques display that was pretty, but completely unnecessary. Soon darkness returned to the stomach, leaving the two once again shadowed in silence.

            “What do you want now, Mable?” Nick asked, not even needing the slight bit of light to know who stood before him.

            “Mable?” the wizard shot back, pretending to be offended. “That isn’t even close!”

            “Sorry,” Nick said, not feeling much pity for the demon. “What was it again?”

            “Macle,” the boy answered.

            “That is close!”

            “Don’t care, you were still wrong! I thought we were friends.”

            “You turned me into a fly!”

            “And you’ve been having fun.” Nick stopped. He hated to admit it, but the kid had a point.

            “Fine,” he said after a brief pause. “What do you want?”

            “Well, I heard you make a wish. I came to see if you wanted that to be the wish.”

            “No,” Nick replied, thinking. “Not that one, but give me a second.”

            “Fine, but be quick. I have stuff to do,” Macle responded with a humph. 

            “Like what? You said you just watched me all day.”

            “Among other things.” Nick was about to speak again, but thought better of it. This was not a fight he was going to win.

            He went back to the careful calculations that went into making a wish. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in another position like this, especially if it didn’t turn out to be as fun.

            There was one wish that he knew would work, but he couldn’t help thinking it was a waist. He had had so much fun today, but he couldn’t live like a fly forever.

            “I wish I was human again.”

            “Okay,” Macle said, not at all surprised. “Are you sure though? I mean, you could have anything else in the world.”

            “Yeah,” Nick replied, not about to fall for another one of the kid’s tricks. “But I think I’ve had enough magic for one life time.”

            “If you really think so, then I will make it so. Say goodbye to your insect looks bug boy!”

 

A flash of light enveloped Nick, its warmth radiating through him, coating him in a heavenly comfort that one can only achieve after turning back into a human after becoming a fly. This is really amazing considering what actually happened.

            “Hey?” Nick said as he lifted his arm up, thick sludge dripping from the appendage. “This doesn’t feel right.” The blackness had returned again.

            “What do you mean?” Mackle asked. He knew exactly what the boy meant, but was truly a dick at heart.

            “I’m still in the stomach, aren’t I?”

            “Of course you are!” Mackle said happily, a smile spreading on his face. “You only asked to be a human, not to be out of the stomach.”

            “You are such a dick,” Nick said more in amazement than anger.

            “Yeah,” Mackle agreed.

            “I know what you’re probably going to say, but can you fix this?”

            “Oh, you want to re-do your wish?”

            Nick took a deep breath. He knew exactly where this was going. “Yes, I want a re-do.”

            Mackle shook his head mockingly, but quickly realized that the fly couldn’t see him in the dark. “In that case, I’m going to have to get everything ready again. It’ll take three hours, minimum.”

            “And I’m stuck as a shrunken human until then?”

            “Well you don’t have to be. I can revoke your last wish.”

            Nick paused. “Really?” he shouted. “You can do that?”

            “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

            “Why didn’t you? I never wanted to be a fly in the first place!”

            “You said you wanted a re-do, not to revoke it.”

            “Well can I revoke it now?”

            “No. That was two wishes ago. I can make you into a fly though.”

            Nick moved around a bit, the stomach acids bighting into his body. He must have lost his immortality when he was transformed. “Fine.”

            “One thing.”

            “What?”

            “If I change you back, it’ll take a bit longer to get the papers through.”

            Nick groaned loudly. “I don’t care, just do it.”

            “Fine, your choice.” Mackle began waving his arms around in patterns that would appear like arcane rituals, but once again remembered the darkness. He grumbled a bit, robbed of his demonstration, and simply flicked his fingers.

            Nick lifted his arms out of the acid. All four of them.

            “Thanks,” Nick said, a bit of sarcasm entering his voice.

            “No problem. I also gave you back your immortality. Enjoy.” Mackle waited for a response, but none came. “Well, call me if you need me.”

            “Wait!” Nick shouted, but the boy disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Great,” the fly grumbled. “Now I have to go through this girl’s digestive track. That’ll be fun.”

End Notes:

Damn it, another filler chapter. Can't we get to the fun stuff already!?

Also, I'm thinking about doing commissions if anyone is interested. 5$ for 500 words, which is about a page, single spaced. If you're interested, send me an email at bleachwhiteskull@gmail.com. Include what you would like the story to be about, what i should include (feet, vore, ect.) and how long you would like it to be. Go on, email me. I know you want to.

Chapter 13: Neil, Sex Demon by sickpuppies

It gets really boring inside of a stomach. See, the problem is that there isn’t much to do. So, Nick was forced to wait, the low grumbling of the girl’s body, and the slow, rhythmic beating of her heart, the only things to keep him company. 

            “Ugh,” Nick said as he once again slumped against the smooth, yet slimy, walls of the organ. “How long is this supposed to take, anyway?” No one answered. “Not even a guess?” he asked the darkness. Still no response. “A general idea? Hours, months, days, what?” Nothing. “How about a random unit of time? Just shout something out.” The silence was almost defining. “Well fine then!” Nick said, annoyed at the stuck up attitude of the emptiness. Who did it think it was, not answering him? What, did it think it was better than him? Because it wasn’t!

            Nick stretched, settling back into a relatively comfortable position. “Screw it,” he moaned as he closed his eyes. “I’m taking a nap.”

 

            “So Amy, did you do anything fun this weekend?” Clair asked.

            “No, not really,” Amy replied.

            Clair snickered. “Well I heard something about you.”

            “What?”

            “Something about this weekend.” Amy shrugged, genuinely not knowing what the other meant. Clair continued. “Something about a party. And about a boy.”

            “Oh, a boy?” Amy said, playing along with the other girl’s mad ramblings. “Was he cute?”   

            “I guess he was to you. People are saying you played five minutes in heaven.”

            Amy leaned closer to the girl, feigning excitement. “Really? Who was it with? Someone I like? Was it Scott Johnson?”

            “No, it wasn’t Scott. Much better looking than Scott.”

            “Hmm. I just don’t remember. Was I drunk?”

            “Drunk? I heard that you were sober, and that you really wanted to do it to.”

            Amy turned from the girl, resting her head on her fist, pretending to loose herself in thought. “Someone I would willingly play five minutes in heaven with? Nope, can’t think of anyone.”

            “Fine, I’ll describe him to you.” Clair could barely contain her smile now. “He’s not very tall, but I heard he’s big in other places.”

            Amy tried to suppress a laugh, and failed miserably. “Good start.”

            “He’s a great kisser, although he has to take a break every so often to blow his nose.”

            “Sexy.”

            Clair nodded. “You know him yet?” Amy shook her head. “Neil…” She let the tension build. “Pickleman.”

            Amy couldn’t stop herself from bursting out in laughter. She let her head drop to the table, giggling uncontrollably.

            Neil Pickleman was the very definition of an unattractive person. Standing at a respectable 5’4, with a face that had more craters than the surface of a rednecks lawn after he finds his stash of grenades, and a potbelly that looked like it consumed enough pizza to feed an African colony, Neil practically screamed sexy.

            His fashion sense was worse than that of a ninety-year-old lady who just found out what a pimp looked like and thought it was “totally dope.” His hair had more grease in it than the entire cast of jersey boys. The only difference being that, instead of being the product of many hours work, Neil’s hair came from a lack of showering for a few months. Or years. You never can tell with a person like that.

            It is rumored by those who play Magic the gathering, that his ass has the power to clear an entire comic book convention with its mighty wind abilities. He has a world at war account with the username, Pussydestroyer92. His ability to clog a toilet is legendary, matched by none other. He announces his intent of going to the restroom by proudly proclaiming, “I go to drop the brown atomic bomb. Lord have mercy on my target.” He had good reason for saying this. His turds of doom have been the lone cause of 27 different janitors quitting their jobs after seeing the destructive power of his rear end.

            “So Amy,” Clair continued after the girl had mostly contained herself. “How was he? Was he as big as they say he is?”

            “I don’t know, I couldn’t lift up the rolls of fat.”

            “Well how did his tongue taste? You gave it a good sucking right?” Amy didn’t respond this time. Instead, she threw a hand over her mouth, still laughing uncontrollably, but now with a rather unsavory picture in her mind. “Did you play with his boobs? I heard his sweat makes them nice and slippery.”

            “Please…” Amy said through a fit of laughter that was bordering on snorts.

            “I assume you didn’t let him do anything serious.” Clair leaned in closer so that she was only a couple inches away from the girl. “I only say that because you’re walking fine.”

            Amy through her head back, her laughter now mixed with gags as pictures of Neil penetrated her mind. “Hey baby,” she could hear him say, spit flying out of his imaginary mouth with each syllable. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentile. At first.”

            Finally Amy’s fit of laughter came to an impressive crescendo as she imagining the beautiful image of Neil on top of her saying; “They don’t call me the PussyDestroyer for nothing.” She felt a large sum of vomit forcing itself back up her thought, but her brain was too filled with pictures of Neil’s naked body for her to care.

 

            “Hey!” Nick shouted up as he slammed his fist into the girl’s stomach walls. “I’m trying to sleep down here!” At first the movements of the giant were nice, soothing and such, but now she was jerking around constantly. And there was the most obnoxious noise reverberating around his fleshy prison. Was it so much to ask for a little quite as he was digested?

            Then everything went quit for a few seconds. Nick nodded his head, slumping back against the pulsating walls. “Finally.”

            Right as he closed his eyes, the stomach jerked in a way it had never done before, sending his small body flying into the air, his face slamming against the far wall.

            “Oh what the hell…” he said, before the stomach churned again, sending him spinning into a half digested, but still hard, bit of candy. He also hit this face first. “Will you just stop!?”

            But it didn’t. The walls around him continued to pulsate. With one final spasm, they collapsed in on the stomach, squeezing its contents together. A tiny hole opened up in the sealing, and the small fly was sent rocketing through it, along with the rest of Amy’s lunch.

            Nick gasped as his eyes were once again exposed to the sensation of light. “Its…” Nick tried to find the words to describe the freedom that was only a few inches away.

            But, before he could think of something clever, the light was blocked off. Amy was finally able to push away the thoughts of Neil, and his massive, sweaty, and oh so sexy member long enough to regain control of her gag reflex.

            “Oh poor Amy,” Clair said as she realized what happened. Tenderly she held Amy’s head, turning it to her. “Just close your eyes, think of Neil, and swallow.”

            If Amy could speak, she would have given a pleasant “Fuck you,” but sadly she was not in a position to do so. Instead, she gathered herself, tilted he head back, accidently let another image of Neil enter her dirty mind, and swallowed.

 

            Nick moaned as he slid back down the girl’s esophagus. “Well, what did I really expect?”

End Notes:

You thought i was going to chicken out with the full tore stuff, didn't you? I told you guys in the comments i wasn't going for that!

 

Chapter 14: A Fun Little Biology Lesson by sickpuppies

Nick plopped back into the acids of Amy’s tiny little stomach, along with the rest of the girl’s lunch. From the outside, you would never have guessed that she would have such an appetite. She was exceptionally skinny, yet ate with a passion that bordered on the insane.

            Nick crawled over a mostly liquefied chunk of bread, the stomach acids splashing up onto him as he did so. “Damn it!” he shouted as he tried to shake the vile liquid off, but only managing to splash more on. There was a slight tingling sensation radiating through his body now. “Can’t I just get digested already?”

            And by some twist of fate that has not been seen in this story for some nineteen thousand words or so, fate actually did something helpful. For at that very moment, a tiny hole opened in the bottom of Amy’s stomach, allowing the more dissolved contents to flow freely to the second stage of their journey.

            Nick was far too large and solid to fit normally, but he was not about to let that stop him. With an eager smile, he dove headfirst into the opening, wiggling his body until he forced himself through.

            “Ha!” he yelled triumphantly as his back legs followed him, and the opening closed up. “Finally!”

            There was something about this new passage that Nick found oddly suffocating. Maybe it was the way the wet walls pressed so strongly against his body, or perhaps it was the slight odor that surrounded him. Then again, it might be the fact that he left all traces of oxygen behind him when he dove into her intestines.

            He couldn’t be sure, but he felt like the walls were actually pumping out more slimy gunk  to coat his body. “Gross,” he said as his face slid over a particularly thick and nasty glob of the stuff. But hey, at least the burning sensation had stopped.

            Down he slithered, making his way through her digestive tract like a worm would make its way through the earth, blindly being pushed forward. The walls hugged him like a loving cocoon that wanted to smother him.

            The journey could be described as the most boring rollercoaster ever invented. There was a lot of movement, a couple flips, some twists and turns, sudden jerks, and even a plunge or two, but damn it was slow.

            This part of Nick’s Journey took a solid 2 hours to complete. 2 hours of nothing but the rhythmic beating of the giant’s heart to keep his company.

            But the worst part of it wasn’t anything you would expect. No, it wasn’t the complete lack of life sustaining oxygen, and it was not the anaconda like press of the walls. It wasn’t the disgusting liquid, nor was it the insane levels of darkness. No, the worst part of it was the itch on Nick’s nose, which he just could not scratch.

            Two hours of digestional fun later, Nick was pushed out of the giant’s small intestine, his body pressed trough another, but slightly tighter, hole, plopping him out into a new, slightly larger tunnel.

            “Oh yes!” Nick yelled as he frantically scratched his nose with his newly freed arms. The feeling of having an itch finally scratched after such a long time borders on orgasmic.

            But, like most good things in life, Nick’s moment of bliss had to come to an end. His journey was not yet done. A low gurgle rumbled through the cavern, followed by a squelching that seemed to come from all around him.

            Like a monster crawling out of a swamp, the noise grew in volume until it was ringing in the little bug’s ears.

            Finally the oozing sound ended, but a new trouble began. The walls around the tiny chamber collapsed, again gripping the fly in their slick, lubricated walls, pushing him steadily forward.

            “Oh, not again,” Nick said as his arms were pinned at his side.

            This ride was calmer than the last. The rollercoaster that was Amy’s small intestine had ended, and her mostly straightforward large intestine stretched out before Nick. It was looser than the other, and thankfully most of the not so pleasant liquids of the previous trek seemed to have vanished. It did have a certain odor to it though.

            Nick gave a long sniff, and was surprised when air filled his lungs. Well, if you would call it air.

            “Smells… interesting,” Nick said, not fully able to place the scent. It was an odd mix, not entirely bad. Like if you combined a fresh glass of orange juice, an apple pie baking in the oven, and stake cooking on the grill, then pored on a heaping helping of Neil’s sweat until the it completely overpowered everything else in the dish.

            “It smells like justice!” Nick exclaimed triumphantly. “Wait, that’s not right. I think these fumes are going to my head.”

            The rest of Nick’s large intestine trip was rather uninteresting. Just more of the same thing, really. Flabby walls to his right, slick walls to his left, and the growing stench that seemed to permeate the entire track.

            About two hours later, the tunnel opened up before Nick, allowing him to drop into a crevice below. He hit, face first, into something hard, yet oddly squishy. It was almost like a thick mud, only much more smelly.

             “Oh,” Nick said after a second. “I think I know where I am.” He gave a knowing grin, then leaned back against one of the pulsating walls, stretching out on the warm ground. He put two of his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes. “At least I’m almost done.”

 

End Notes:

So, this is officialy the longest story i have posted! Yay! Also the most read, and the most reviewed!

 

Chapter 15: Exit Strategy by sickpuppies

Amy sat at her desk, eyes locked on the boring, white sheet of paper before her, its questions lazily playing through her mind. Her teacher sat at the front of the class, her two-inch thick glasses aimed down at the newspaper spread before her.

            What, Amy though to herself. You never heard of a computer?

            She returned to the worksheet. It wasn’t even a test; just something to keep the class occupied while Ms. Ironass did whatever she was doing. Like always.

            The slow, methodic ticking of the clock at the front of the room boomed in Amy’s ears, reminding her exactly how slow time was going. Tick… tick… tick… why couldn’t it just end already?
            Then her stomach decided to give its impute to the situation. It accomplished this with a loud growl, which made everyone in the class glance in her direction.

            “Sorry,” she said quietly, and everyone returned to their task. Stupid stomach! Just stay quiet!

            A few minutes later, it happened again, only louder, longer, and just generally more intrusive.

            “Sorry,” Amy said again, shrinking back into her seat in embarrassment.

            “Amy,” Ms. Ironass grumbled as she folded her paper. “Perhaps you should go to the bathroom.”

            Amy nodded once, the low chuckling of the class echoing all around her, and rushed outside.

            “Aw shut up!” Ms. Ironass groaned as she returned to her paper.

 

            Amy threw open the door to the bathroom; silently thanking everything she could think of that there was no one else in there. She rushed into the nearest stall, locking it behind her. Quickly she dropped her shorts, than sat down on the cold toilet seat.

            One final gurgle reverberated through Nick’s chamber, which had grown considerably smaller since he had been so rudely dropped in. Lets just say that there was still more to come.

            There was a sudden jerk that ripped Nick back into consciousness, followed by a steady sinking of the floor.

            Nick’s smile grew as he realized what was happening. “Freedom!” he cried happily. “I’m almost there!”

            Amy’s stomach growled much like a lion would if it had eaten a gazelle with much too much amounts of hot sauce pored onto it. Or, perhaps it was more like a hippopotamus that was just bitten by a crocodile. No, that’s not it either. Oh! It was like an elephant that just found out it has amnesia! That’s not it either. Well, lets just say it sounded like some animal in Africa.

            The cold toilet seat felt nice under her bare buns, but that was perhaps the only nice thing about the place. The walls of her stall were dirty, smeared with large sums of something Amy didn’t want to think about. The floor was damp, scattered with random puddles that looked a little to yellow to be water, and the mold and mildew speckling the ceiling was enough to make any one feel as if they were in a Saw movie.

            So, instead of taking her normal, slow and pleasant styled bathroom break, she pushed hard, trying to finish as quickly as humanly possible. But, when you push really hard when taking a number two, you start making some rather unpleasant noises.

            The first fart that erupted out of Amy’s small bottom reverberated around the room, bringing a sudden stop to any and all movement. Even the bugs, usually to engrossed in their own lives to notice humans, stopped what they were doing so that they could judge her and her unsavory flatulence. One spider even had the nerve to utter the words “Well I never!” to which her husband replied, “Yes you have.”

            Amy listened for any noises after, but none came up. She breathed a hefty sigh of relief. At least she was alone.

            The next five or six minutes sounded much like an orchestra playing for a galley of rich, snobby folk, if only the band had been made up entirely of tuba players. Each toot rang out through the tiny bathroom, rolling like a thunderstorm through the air. And the smell wasn’t any better.

            “Uuughabhehugh…” Amy grumbled after a particularly wet squelch. She silently gave thanks that no one else was around to hear.

            Tammy, a small, frightened, freshman girl sat silently in the stall all the way at the end of the room, quivering at the anger of the beast only a few feet away from her. When the girl had first came into the bathroom, she had been freaked out by the deadly decor, then this… this thing had come in. She had thought it was just another girl, but no. Nothing human could make such ungodly sounds.

            A final helping of turd exploded from Amy’s petite bunghole. Amy gave a modest “Heguawaaahahah,” as the cold, mostly brown, water from the toilet bowl splashed up, wetting her bare backside. But this was a special diarrhea bomb, for in it contained the traces of a certain fly we have all come to love.

            Nick dug his way free of the entombing mud baby, quickly swimming up through the swamp to the air above. He breached the surface, throwing his head back in joy, breathing the toxic fumes that had been trapped indie the toilet bowl deeply. Hey, at least it had some oxygen in it.

            “WOO!” Nick shouted, now swimming carelessly on his back, bumping into small islands of floating fecal mater as he went.

            He looked up at the dark sky that hung over him. The slight crack of light between the girl’s thighs was so promising, so loving, and so caring. All he needed to do was escape, and he would be free.

            Amy stood up from her destroyed throne, the polluted gasses leaking out to the world. She leaned backwards, cracking her spine, and smiling broadly in victory. It had been a hard fought battle, but she had won. Well, something had lost anyway.

            She turned then, and looked at her handy work. A hellish mess of brown, green, and yes, even some tinges of red. There was not an inch in the toilet bowl that hadn’t been covered, and that was just how she licked it.

            “Hmm…” she thought to herself. The toilet paper at schools is legendarily dry and painful. Did she really need to wipe? “Eh, I’m probably dry.” She pulled up her shorts quickly, the waistband jiggling her butt as it came up. She opened the stall, walking out of the room as if she had just killed a dragon. Victory was hers.

            Tammy silently whimpered in the stall at the end of the hall. Surely a demon had visited her on this day. 

 

            After a while, Tammy mustered the courage to run from the haunted room, leaving Nick alone to swim around in his bog of a swimming pool. Luckily he was a fly, so the pure disgustingness of the situation didn’t faze him as much as it would someone else. After meeting that horrible abomination of a fly some time ago, everything somehow looked better by comparison.

            Amanda walked briskly to the girl’s bathroom, her booty begging to drop off its load at the nearest port. When she first opened the door to the bathroom, she was stung by the putrid odor of everything. But, she needed to go, so she pushed through.

            The smell only grew stronger as she came closer to the stall. Like a zombie crawling out of the earth, the fumes came to her nose, seeping into her brain stem, trying to kill her from the inside, but she pushed through the pain.

            She opened the door to the stall, and gagged at the sight. “Oh deer god!” she yelled, tears coming to her eyes as she backed away. “What happen here? What has done this… this atrocity?” She hurriedly scanned the room, as if the perpetrator would be close by. “This should be handled by a priest!”

            Still, her ass begged her for the sweet release of number two, and the only other bathroom was on the other side of the school, in the special kid’s wing. “No,” she said as she recalled her last visit down that hallway. “Never again.”

            She reached out to the toilet, and pulled on the lever, praying that the mess would go away.

            The toilet roared below her, as if the very gates of hell had opened up to receive the load. There was a mad rushing of water, a gurgling sound, and then all was still. Hesitantly she looked down.

            It was gone. Say what you will about the school, they had powerful toilets. Something the janitors had insisted on ever since the decimation of the east wing in late 2016. A plaque still hung on the wall there, the names of those fallen written in gold letters under the words, “It was their duty”

            Nick, being the small fly that he was, had absolutely no ability to stop the force of water that tried to pull him down to the drain. But he was surprised with himself. Instead of panicking like he usually would, he simply sat back, accepting his new fate.

            “Can’t be worse than that girl’s insides, right?” he said as he plummeted down into the darkness.

End Notes:

"All he needed to do was escape, and he would be free." - I'm sorry, but who wouldn't this apply to?

 

Chapter 16: Changing Scenes by sickpuppies

Nick rode the twisting water slide with glee equal to that of a child going to see their first horror movie. There was happiness there, but the loads of fear piled on top masked it. The key difference between a horror movie and Nick’s little rollercoaster is that there is very little chance you will actually get hurt going to the movies. Yes, a lamp might fall on your head, or someone pulls the fire alarm, everyone panics, someone pushes you down, and you are then trampled to death by the mass of people desperately seeking safety, but that is very rare.

            But Nick had no idea where this pipe was going to go, and what he was going to have to deal with to get there. Was he going to swim the rest of the journey? Would he be dumped out in the ocean, or sent to some sewage treatment plant? Was he ever going to see the light of day again?

            He probably was, considering he was immortal and still had a wish left, but Nick was in a dramatic mood, and so thought to ask these questions anyway.

            A sharp left turn sent him sliding along the top of the pipe. A stomach turning flip came next, followed by five quick zigzags, each of which seeming to have no real purpose at all.

            Then finally, after some amount of time had passed (it is easy to loose track of such things when you are on a water slide no one was ever intended to ride on) the pipe opened, and the slightest rays of artificially created, and slightly yellow light appeared.

            “Yay!” Nick said happily as he was pushed forward, out of the darkness and into his next destination. He flew out of the pipe, soring through the air for a brief second, water droplets falling all around him.

            The room was dark, and pretty dingy even by sewer standards. There was a single light bulb in the corner, the filament spewing the hazy light forth. A door had been placed on the far wall of the room, constructed completely of iron. It looked as if it was meant to cage some horrific beast from the depths of hell.

In reality, the door’s main purpose was to keep out the homeless who had consistently found ways into the sewer for hundreds of years. Mayor Egor III had proclaimed on his election day that he would once and for all rid the world of the homeless. His plan to do so was to put massive doors, like this one, throughout the sewer system. His reasoning was simply this, “Since the homeless come from the sewers, all we have to do is block them out!”

At first, the good people of Idiocracity, the city that Nick was now under but more on that later, had reacted badly to the mayor’s plan, but soon grew to love it. One wealthy business man was quoted as saying, “Hey, it would explain the smell.”

Of course Mayer Egor’s plan had resulted in a total of 0 homeless people being repelled back to their smelly underground city. When this statistic was announced, Egor held a press conference and stated, “Well shit, we forgot to cover up those man holes, didn’t we? That must be it.” And so, the issue was dropped, and never truly resolved.

Nick continued to fall, but soon landed on a hard, metallic surface below. Face first of course. He stood up, shacking some of the water from his body. The small fly had landed on a grate, allowing most of the water to run right through, while keeping his solid body out.

“Wow,” Nick said as he walked onto the concrete floor and off of the grate. “Something helpful actually happened! What are the odds?”

             Apart from the iron door, which Nick had little chance of opening; there were only two exits from the room. One was the way he dropped in, which wasn't the most appealing option in the world, and the other was a storm drain above. This seemed like the simplest, and least messy, solution.

            Once Nick’s wings dried, a task that didn’t take nearly as long as he had expected, the small fly jumped into the air, annoyingly buzzing out of the drain, and into the heavenly light of day once again. He breathed the fresh air deeply, and allowed the brutal sun to coat his entire body in its cozy embrace. Finally, after hours and hours of not so pleasant torture, he was free again!

            But, where exactly was he? Before him stretched a high brick wall, which was completely hideous in all regards. It wasn’t even that nice type of brick that people pay for in their homes so that it looks old fashioned. These were the old bricks that had been put in at the dawn of civilization, and hadn’t seen soap since. Slimy, with a thick coating of gunk, the wall seemed to stretch on and on.

            To his right was more brick, where the wall made a sharp turn forming a dead end. There was a dumpster situated there, and Nick could just make out the silhouette of some tiny black bugs hovering around it. Not the type of crowd Nick wanted to fall back in with. His thoughts were briefly polluted with the image of that first fly once again.

            Quickly he shook away the vomit inducing atrocities of the fly, and looked to his left. He couldn’t make out much, since a fly’s eyes weren’t the greatest in the animal kingdom, but he could tell that there was more light then there was in this dark corridor.

            “So,” he said to no one in particular. He was growing used to talking to himself. “On my right is a bunch of sexy flies that will probably want to do stuff to my gorgeous body, and on my left is the inviting sensation of sunlight. Which one to pick?” He was moving before he could even finish the thought.

            He buzzed out into the open with a passion unmatched by any fly before him. When the world finally opened up to him, and he was allowed to see where he was, he was left breathless. For once in his life, he was at a loss of words, for before him stood the vast, sprawling metropolis that was Idiocracity.

End Notes:

“But Sick, that’s not how sewers work!” – voice in my head

“Well to fuckn’ bad. That how they work here.” – Me

Yeah, not much happend in this chapter, so i'll be uploading another within a day or two. Say what you want, i'm pretty good about uploading quickly.

Chapter 17: City Life For a Bug by sickpuppies

“Wow,” Nick said as he fluttered through the immense city. He simply could not get over how big it really was. At his size, a normal human looked like a skyscraper. Now he was able to look at real skyscrapers, and they were aw inspiring.

            He wafted through the air, his senses bombarded by the different sights, sounds, and smells of the city. He could hear the cars honking at each other, and people yelling to one another. He could see the bright lights flashing above and around him. But, more than anything, he could smell the delicious delicacies of the nearby eateries.

            But he avoided these restaurants. He could always eat, but things had a tendency to end badly whenever he found something to snack on. He shuddered as he remembered all the food related activities of the day. The syrup, the deer and the apple, and everything that had happened in the lunchroom.

            Soon something caught his attention. He passed by an electronics store, proudly displaying the newest forms of technology. At first it was just the bright, pretty lights that Nick was attracter to, but he soon found something more.

            “That’s the new Machine Head gaming system!” Without even a seconds thought, the fly rushed into the hard glass separating him from the system. To his dismay, the glass stopped him with a small plink.

            Nick was not deterred however, and continued to bash himself against the glass for almost a full minute before he finally remembered that flies cannot transverse solid objects. Most times Nick would know this instantly, but this time his fly instincts took over.

            The bug looked around, embarrassed that he had been so moronic. He saw a pigeon sitting on a park bench a few feet away that was starring at him with a completely blank expression. Somehow, Nick knew that it was judging him.

            Before anything else could happen, Nick fluttered into the store, escaping the pigeons knowing glance.

            In actuality, the pigeon was not concerned about Nick. He was actually thinking about how much he hated ducks. All they have to do is go up to an old person a quack a bit to get food. And what did pigeons get? Whatever people toss on the ground. It’s not fare!

            Nick rushed to the display for the Mecha Head gaming system. It was only when he reached it that he realized he would not be able to play it.

            “NO!” Nick screamed as he collapsed on a nearby shelf, shacking his fist dramatically in the air. No matter how hard he tried, how much he wanted it, there was no way a fly would be able to play on a human gaming system. But, before he was even able to finish his little fit, a child came up to the system and turned it on. “Well, at least I get to see someone play it. That’s something.”

            For the next few minutes, Nick stayed at his perch, eyes glued to the ultra –HD T.V. screen. It was because of his complete memorization that he missed out on viewing a super interesting episode of the news that was playing behind him.

            The 3D holographic visualizer, an immense improvement on its 2D counterparts of last month, displayed the elegant form of a female news reporter, dressed all in red, and who’s noes was far to big for her face.

            “And of course, the top news story on our program today is the now infamous interview our very own reporter, Clair Gumby, conducted with the president of the United States. We have a clip for you.” The picture changed to that of a poorly lit room with two fluffy chairs. Inside of these chairs sat two people. Reporter Clair Gumby sat on the left, a beautiful woman at the age of 85 dressed in the clothing of a twenty year old. Many people had complained about this in the past, to which she had replied with, “Ya’ll perverts who just want to get with a sweet old lady. I have got with many men in my lifetime, and I can say for sure that I would be to much for any of you to handle.” Across from this old bag sat President Shalts, sweaty as always.

            “So,” Clair started. “You’ve come under a lot of fire recently Mr. President.”

            “I have,” Shalts admitted.

            “First there was the Nutown incident, that ended with the complete and total destruction of a city for reasons you have not yet given us.”

            “They are good reasons though,” Shalts interjected with a wag of his finger.

            “And can you tell us them?”

            Shalts leaned back in his chair confidently. “No.”

            “Okay, then I will continue. There was also the incident with project HALO.”

            “Which was also justified.”

            Clair smiled politely. “Of course it was. This was then followed by the Olympus exploration, extermination, and recovery operation, and all the revelations that went along with it.”

            “Yes,” Shalts said happily.

            “After which you declared yourself president for life since we are now at a time of intergalactic war.”

            “Also true.”

            “I’m going to be blunt here. Are you the devil? And I mean that literally.”

            Shalts leaned forward in his chair, wiping some of the sweat from his face. “I am telling the truth. I am not the devil.”

            “But because of your actions, we were involved with two wars, one of which was interplanetary. Not to mention the death tolls, which numbered in the millions.”

            “I was just doing what I thought was best.”

            “And you don’t think that someone else might have better ideas?”

            “Nope. Everything is working out perfectly.” At this, the president pushed his hands together, forming an evil pyramid. The silence hung in the air for a moment.

            “See, its shit like that that makes people think you’re the devil.”

            The picture cut back to the news reporter in red. “We conducted our own survey on this topic.” A graph appeared next to her. “Ninety five present of the population believes that Shalts is the devil, three present think that he is not the devil, but has made a pact with him, and one percent think that he is actually a good guy. Stupid, but good.”

            “The reaming one percent has been lost somewhere along the way, because honestly, where not very good at our jobs. Now some boring crap you don’t care about!”

            The child took the helmet off, his hair a complete mess. The one downside of this high tech gaming system was how stupid one looked while playing, and even after.

            Nick stretched his wings. There was nothing left for him to do here. He jumped from the shelf, flapping his bug wings with skills one would not expect a fly that was only a day old to have.

            He buzzed out of the open door and back into the cold air of the city. Up he flew, into the skies above, away from any humans, and the dangers that came with them.

End Notes:

Anyone catch the references there? Well, reference. I still need to write the stories for the others.

Next chapter will be up soon (maybe within the day) and it will have some sexy action! Well, that might be up for debate. You'll see what i mean.

Chapter 18: Police Intervention by sickpuppies

It was enjoyable at first, gliding around in the open world, looking at the beautiful scenery around him. The sun glittering off the glass of the buildings, the cars below moving almost like a liquid through the dense streets. It was not like the beauty of nature, it had something that made it unique, but heavenly nonetheless.

            Nick, being the teenager that he was, quickly grew bored of appreciating it. He wanted to do something, see something new and amazing! But, there is not much to do in the city if you are a tiny fly.

            But, something caught his eye below. A movement that went against the flow of the crowd. A being that looked almost out of place in the hustle and bustle. Well, two somethings, actually.

            Nick dove downwards, eager to find out what the creature was. Could it be a bear? No, that would make absolutely no sense. Could it just be a really fat guy in a trench coat?

            It wasn’t until he was a few feet away that his poor eyes were able to make out the creature. Standing above the crowd, its fur a rich golden brown, its muscles lean, was a horse.

            At first, Nick was baffled. A horse, actually a pair of horses, made less sense than a bear. At least bears could be found in the woods not far from here.

            “Oh!” Nick said happily as he figured out the answer to his conundrum. “They’re from the zoo!”

            They were in fact, not from the zoo at all. One had an uncle who had been in the circus for a brief period of time, but that really doesn’t matter at all.

            They were actually police horses, but to a fly this would have been hard to notice, as there owners were not on them. The two officers were inside the Drunken Donuts across the street, chowing down on a hefty lunch.

             But, Nick was a very observant and intelligent fly, and was able to piece the truth together. They were too well taken care of to be zoo animals, and looked far too beautiful. They were to calm, too well trained. Plus, they had badges on. That was probably the biggest hint.

            “Hmm…” Nick hummed to himself as he weighed his options. All his previous encounters with animals had ended poorly, to put it delicately. If the pattern continued, Nick would probably end up as one of their lunches. Not a pleasant thought. “Yeah, I’m going to pass on the whole horse thing.”

            Laughing to himself, the fly buzzed away.

            But, something drew him back. He knew that they were horses, and he knew his odds were not great, but they might just be able to understand him, and maybe even help.

            “That’s stupid,” he said as turned around again. “There is no way that it will end well.” He spun around again, now facing the animals. “But, nothing has gone well before this, so what have I got to loose.”

            “Hey Carl,” the horse on the left said to his friend.

            “Yeah Frank,” the other replied.

            “Ever wonder why those fat guys ride us around so much? I mean, can’t they just get a car or something?”

            “Well Frank, humans are stupid animals, and these are no exception. Remember yesterday when the fat one…”

            “Which one?” Frank interrupted.

            “Good point. The one who doesn’t have a chin.”

            “Ah. Go on.”

            “Thank you. Anyway, just yesterday he thought that there were ten planets.”

            “Oh, I remember now! Didn’t that conversation end up with them debating philosophy?”

            “It did indeed. Like when your guy said, so elegantly I might add, ‘I eat, therefor I am’.”

            “Excuse me,” Nick said nervously, but the horses took no notice.

            “Oh, and the excellent quote about carrots. ‘I don’t believe those doctors know what they’re talking about. Anything that smell like my grandma’s gym socks can’t be healthy.”

            “What type of carrot would fit that description?”

            “I don’t think he really knew what a carrot was.”

            “Um… Excuse me officer,” Nick tried to ask again, intimidated by their sheer size. Still they did not turn to him.

            “Oh, how about the time when we were riding down the street and passed the salad kart.”

            “I remember the look of horror on their faces.”

            “Yes, but do you remember what they said after they passed by it?”

            “I think it was something like ‘Food like that should be a crime. Then I’d be able to go all ape on it.’”

            “Excuse me!” Nick shouted, now buzzing hurriedly between them.

            The horse of the left closed his eyes, and took one long, slow, deep breath. “For Jessica Parker’s sake, what?”

            “No, don’t acknowledge it Frank!” the other horse quickly said. “It’s a bug! Don’t talk to bugs.”

            “Shit. I know… I just thought that maybe it would leave if I…”

            “No! They never leave! The just fly around and bight you. Especial if you say something. Have you ever heard a fly try and tell a story?”

            “No.”

            “Well if you give them the slightest bit of attention, they’ll try. And let me tell you, it is not a fun experience. They just go on and on, forming half sentences with their small, dumb minds.” He practically spit on the ground.

            “But, I’m not a fly!” Nick yelled, trying anything.

            “Fine,” Carl said, defeated. “What should we do with it now?”

            “Only thing we can do. Follow my lead.” With as much of a snobbish attitude as the horse could produce, which was a lot given that horses where very snobby animals to begin with, Frank whipped his head into the air, turning away from the fly as he did so.

            “Ah. That should work,” Carl said as he did likewise, turning complete around.

            Nick groaned, the horse’s gigantic posteriors now obstructing the greater portion of his view.

            “Great,” he said, annoyed. “Guess that didn’t work.”

            The fly turned to leave, but something stopped him. A subtle sent wafting through the air, its delicate odor slowly surrounding him. It smelled like a combination of the sweet, yet slightly sour aroma of a newly baked pie cooling on a windowsill, mixed with a pile of newly laid cow manor baking in the noon day sun.

            It grabbed hold of the little fly, turning his back around to the great ass before him. He chuckled as thoughts started racing through his head. Dirty thoughts. Thoughts that he was ashamed he was thinking, and thoughts that seemed just plain wrong.

            “Thoughts that other fly would probably agree with,” he said out loud as he drifted ever closer. The horses rear twitched slightly, its massive muscles moving the most minute of amounts. Its tail swung lazily, the golden hairs gently traveling back and forth.

            Dare he land on the magnificent body? Would the horse feel it? Would he do something about it? But, perhaps just a touch would be fine.

            Elegantly he glided over to the soft, felt like skin of the horses’ bottom, landing delicately on its fur. The smell had grown stronger now, reaching around him, enveloping him in a cocoon of sweaty goodness.

            He was drawn towards the source of the reeking, his nose guiding him to his the irresistible temptation. So close it was now, so complete was the stench. It seeped into every poor of Nick’s body, filling his nostrils with its heavenly stench.

            Nick took a deep breath, savoring the sensation. “This feels so wrong,” he said to no one in particular. “But it smells so right.”

            Without another moment’s hesitation, Nick jumped headfirst into the animal’s posterior.

End Notes:

Back to the animals! But only for a few chapters, i promis.

In other news, i started planning out another, more story focussed work! Oh, it looking pretty good so far.

Also, that commission thing is still open, if anyone is interested. Just send me an email at bleachwhiteskull@gmail.com

 

Chapter 19: Talk About a Fun Afternoon by sickpuppies

The huge horse gave a slight jump.

            “What is it?” Frank asked his friend, who was now wide eyed.

            “I think something just…”

            “What?” Frank asked again, growing annoyed.

            “Something just…”

            “Spit it out!”

            Carl turned slowly to his friend, his eyes trembling, and his face pale. “I think that fly just crawled up my butt.”

 

              Nick couldn’t help himself. This must be what true love feels like. A horse’s ass.

            There could be no sweeter sensation for a fly. Being covered, disgusting head to vile toe, with the terrible substances that called the horse home. Eagerly Nick rolled around, making sure to cover his entire body, a wide smile plastered on his face all the while.

 

            “What did you just say?” Frank said, on the verge of laughing.

            “Its not funny,” Carl replied in a horse whisper. (Ha! Get it, a horse whisper!)

            Frank snorted with delight, masking it with a poorly done fake cough. Once he was able to control himself, he said, “Of course not.”

            “Well what do I do?”

            “Ah, the great question that has troubled philosophers for ages. If a fly happens to crawl up my bum, what is the best course of action to remove said fly?”

            “Stop making fun! This is serious.”

            “Dude, calm down.” Frank tossed his head to the side, rolling his eyes widely. “Man, what crawled up your ass and died?”

            “Just tell me how I can get it out!”

            “You could try sitting on it.”

            “That’ll force it deeper.”
            “You could try asking nicely.”

            “You got me into this, damn it! You could at least help me out.”

            “I could, but that would be a lot less fun.”

            “Wait, I think I have an idea.”

            “Well try it then, and stop bugging me.”

 

            Nick, now thoroughly engulfed in the horse’s hole, was far to busy enjoying the rich bounty of treasure that he had found within to notice the movement all around him. So complete was his ecstasy that he failed to feel the walls closing all around him. It was only when his body was on the verge of popping was he snapped out of his stupor.

            “Wait,” he said, realizing something was wrong. “Was it always so tight in here?”

            With one perfect flex, the horse was able to squeeze its immense muscles together. The walls of Nick’s prison pressed on, the powerful body pushing in on him from all directions. Finally, and with the satisfying pop that accompanies the squish of a bug, was the poor fly’s life ended.

            Or, at least it would have been if not for the immortality, but we’ll come back to that later.

 

            “Did you get it?” Frank asked his partner nonchalantly. 

            “I… I think so.” A bit of the color was returning to the horses face, although it still looked long, but that might just be genetics.

            “Well that’s good. Nothing worse than having a bug up your ass.”

 

            The incessant wiggling stopped for a moment, which was really the worst part of the whole ordeal. The thing was dead, and that’s all that mattered. Carl could continue about his day as usual, only slightly traumatized.

 

            Although Carl thought that the experience was over, he was wrong. If only he had talked to the fly for a few seconds, he might have learned that he was immortal.

            Nick regenerated his body quickly, coming back into consciousness with a big smile on his face. He remembered exactly where he was.

            “Silly horse,” he whispered to himself. “Can’t kill me that easily.” He could still see the faintest speck of light in front of him. He dusted some brown sludge off of his shoulder confidently, and then started his crawl out from the horses rear.

 

Carl’s eyes went wide once again. His partner noticed, and gave a labored sigh before saying anything.

“What is it now?” the horse asked.

“Frank…” Carl said, his face as white as a ghost. Well, that doesn’t really make that much sense does it? Ghosts can be all sorts of colors. The guy from ghost busters was green! So a better saying would be, his face was as white as the sheet a kid uses to pretend to be a ghost when his mom forgets that it’s Halloween and is forced to quickly throw something together at the last minute. Yeah, that just flows of the tongue, doesn’t it? Carl continued, saying, “I think it’s moving again.”

“Again?” Frank asked mockingly. “Are you sure its not a new fly? Your ass can be pretty appealing. Remember that time we went down to the derby and those guys where checking you out?”

“I told you never to speak of that!”

“I remember there was that huge, pure black Philly who was making googly eyes at you.”

“I said shut it!”

“Didn’t he give you his phone number?”

“Why must you mock me? There a damn fly in my ass, show a little sympathy!” Frank sighed. He tried to feel bad for his friend, but it was just not going to happen. When a friend tells you that a fly crawled up his ass, you laugh.

“Well what do you want me to do about it? I could go into that restaurant and see if they have a plunger I could borrow.”

“No, I don’t think that would be the best solution.”

“How about I give that Philly a call! He would be more than willing to check up there for you.”

“No!”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Damn Carl, I just don’t know what you want from me. Those were two very good ideas.”

“Could you just… I don’t know. Check it out for me?”

“Carl, are you asking me to look inside your butt?”

There was a brief, but intensely awkward pause. “Well…” Carl stammered. “Yeah. Just see if you can do anything.”

“About the fly in your butt?”

“Yes.”

Frank groaned loudly, throwing his head back for effect. “Carl, I don’t know what you would ever do without me.” The horse turned around, trotting towards his friend’s rear end.

“Thanks,” Carl called down to him.

“Don’t talk,” Frank replied, his face only about a foot away from the others behind. He was starring intently at the darkened hole in the center, waiting to see anything unusual. Then his thoughts drifted to how unusual he must look at this moment. He chose to ignore those thoughts.

“Look mommy!” a young boy called as he and his mother passed by the pair. “That horsey is sniffing the other one’s butt!”

“Yes he is,” the mother replied. “Horses are much less civilized than us humans.”

“But wait,” the child said, now with a confused look on his face. “Weren’t you doing the same thing to daddy last night? In bed?” The mother’s eyes opened wide in terror. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, the boy’s inquisitive eyes burning into her skull.

“Um… That was something different. Don’t talk about that.” Before Carl could hear the rest of the exchange, the pair shuffled down the street, the crowd quickly masking their speech.

Great Frank thought to himself. Now I’m less civilized than a smelly human!

 

End Notes:

I can't believe i actually wrote half the stuff that i put in this chapter. Oh, humiliation.

 

Chapter 20: A Gas Explosion by sickpuppies

Carl did his best not to feel awkward about the situation, and was failing miserably. Each person who passed by gave him a look that asked a silent question. “Da fuck?” In response to their unasked inquiry, he would smile, shrug his shoulders a bit, and imagine himself digging a hole somewhere in the dessert so that he could die in it.

“I don’t see anything in there,” Frank called up to his buddy.

“Well, it is.”

“Are you sure? It might just be a mussel spasm or something.”

“No, its defiantly that fly.”

“Are you sure you weren’t just thinking about that big, black Philly?”

“No!”

“Carl, is there something you want to tell me? I will understand, I promise.”

Carl was feeling worse every second. Part of it was the embarrassment of the situation, but there was something new popping up. Something more physical that was hurting his very insides.

“Frank, can you please take this seriously?” Carl begged, a sinking sensation building in his bowels.

“Carl, why so serious?” Carl lowered his head, even more ashamed now than he was a second ago. Thankfully humans were to stupid to understand horse language.

 “Are you sure there isn’t anything?” His stomach gurgled. Something wasn’t right.

“Your butt is as clean as it always is. Which isn’t very.”

“No fly?”

“Nope. No fly.”

“But, it really hurts.”

Frank groaned. This was getting a little old. “Listen, buddy, there is no fly in your butt. And even if there was, it would be dead within a few seconds!” Carl’s insides began to gurgle more. He could feel something pushing its way to the back. “You get so paranoid sometimes! There is absolutely,” He could feel insides moving. “Positively,” His butt was starting to hurt even more now. “Defiantly,” Something was defiantly wrong.

Before his friend could add another description, Frank let out one of the most powerful, wettest, slimiest, foulest farts he had even given. The gas explosion rocketed out from the horse’s backside, flying at full speed for the others open mouth. Even knowing this, Carl could not help but smile as the pressure was released from his insides.

But there was another creature that might have had it worse than the poor horse, who, was about to endure the full effect of a horses ass gas. Nick, our little fly, had been shoved out, and propelled straight from the horses rear, now flying, along with the other contents of Carl’s butt, towards the inside of the other’s mouth.

“Ahh!” he screamed as he, along with several chunks of brownish black sludge, were propelled passed the horses teeth. He landed moments later on the large, pink, fleshy muscle that was the tongue.

“AHuHGUhuauf!” Frank yelled as he danced back and forth, the foul contents of his buddy’s butthole polluting his mouth, the taste of it almost bringing a tear to his eye. He spit out as much as he could, but there was no way he could remove it all.

“Did that… ugh… get in your mouth?” Carl asked, a group of humans now clustered around, starring wide-eyed at the show.

“Did it get in my mouth?” Frank repeated, chunks of the stuff still clinging to his tongue. “Of course it did you ass muncher!” Carl could not help but to think how the term “ass muncher” would be more fitting for his partner, but decided to keep his mouth shut on the topic.

 

Nick rolled around the huge expanse that was the horse’s mouth. The huge tongue moving about wildly, trying to force all the dirty droplets of filth out and away, and failing quit completely. Nick tried to climb out by himself, but whenever he tried, the tongue would always flop on top of him, pushing him back down to the gums below.

“Come on!” Nick shouted after failing for the third time in a row, spit now covering as much of his body as the brown matter did.

 

“God!” Frank shouted as he continued to gallop around, spit flying out of his mouth in all directions. “Why? Why? Why?”

“Aw man,” Carl said sheepishly. “You ugh… you all right?”

“NO! You farted in my mouth!”

 

The contents of the horse’s mouth, or what was left, was pretty thoroughly mixed at this point. What was once two separate, but equally vile, liquids, had now become one. The spit had merged with the ass juice creating a new substance that will henceforth be referred to as “ass slobber”.

The ass slobber seemed to coat every inch of the tiny fly as he was sloshed around the mouth, his tiny, frail body smashing into everything the horse was still chewing. He went face first into chunks of horse duty, was chomped on by the giant’s teeth, and even smacked around by his massive tongue and gums. By the time Frank eventually spit him out, which was longer than anyone involved was willing to admit, Nick was black and blue, hurt both mentally and physically.

That last sentence may have been a bit misleading. He was black and blue, but mostly only because that is what colors flies normally are. You have to really look for the blue, but its there. And the mental part of his pain was much less than implied. Instead of a flash back encoring trauma, it was more like a minor situation that you can shrug off after a few minutes, but always stays in the back of your mind.

The scene Nick saw when he landed with a splat on the hard concrete of the sidewalk was less than desirable. There were humans clustered all around, starring at the site before them. Some of them were actually quit cute, but Nick was in no mode to try anything. Behind him was the massive, flailing form of a horse that had no regard for where his feet landed. Even though Nick was in no actual danger, getting trampled was not something he was too thrilled about, so he took of into the air as quickly as physically possible.

 Amazingly, he was able to escape without so much as a scratch. No humans accidently swatted him, and he was not accidently ingested. He wasn’t forced into another animals behind, and he wasn’t squished in any way. Once Nick managed to fly a decent distance, he breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Well that worked out better than expected!”

End Notes:

Did you notice that I put the name of the chapter into the story text! Like OMG right?

Chapter 21: Back to the BooBs by sickpuppies

The scenery in Idiocracity is truly something to marvel at. Each skyscraper seems to rise farther into the sky than the last; their frames coated by windows that seem almost like mirrors, reflecting the suns light all through ought the streets. Down below, the traffic, both motor and pedestrian, moves at a flowing speed that somehow borders on perfection.

            Nick was to busy bathing in a water fountain to notice. No matter how hard he scrubbed, it seemed like the stench of the day’s earlier events would not leave him.

            “Ugh…” he moaned as he took another sniff at himself. It smelled no better than last time.

At some point he was able to regain control of himself, shifting his mindset away from his primal, fly like urges, and thinking more like the human he was on the inside. This brought amazing amounts of shame. Jumping head first into a horse’s rear end was not something you brag about. Or, some people would, but most others would find these people “weird”.

“Hey guys, mind if we take a second and sit by the fountain?” Sahara asked her friends, who immediately agreed.

The group of three teenage girls could be described in two words. Cliché, and busty. Cliché because they were the model for American teenager. They each had their phones in their hand, tight yoga pants gripping their butts, Ugg boots on their feet, and straightened hair that ran past the shoulders, even going as far as their luscious breasts, which were the reason for the second word.

Honestly, these girls’ assets were stupendous. The type of breasts that a man would stair at for hours and hours if given the opportunity. Perfectly rounded, their texture like smooth satin, they practically called out to anyone who came to close. Like sirens they enticed men, and even some women. But, Nick was to busy scrubbing himself to notice.

“So Michele,” Sarah said to the girl to her left, who’s only distinguishing characteristic was her brown hair, and a rather unsightly mole on her left cheek that just did not go away no matter how many hours she spent at the dermatologists. “Did you see that guy working at Starbucks?”

“Which one?” Haley asked. She was a bit taller than her two friends. Besides her rack, which was completely perfect, the only noticeable thing about her was the absolute redness of her lips. When it came to lip-gloss, she did not know the word “moderation”.

“The tall guy with the long hair,” Sarah responded. She was a blond, and the skinniest among the group. As a result, she really didn’t have much of an ass, but her breasts more than made up for that.

“Oh, the hippy dude!” Haley shouted, a smile on her face. She may have had a crush on him.

“That snot ball? He looked like hadn’t showered in two weeks!” Michele interjected. Haley gasped, slightly offended. That’s was her future husband they were talking about.

“No, not him. The other one,” Sarah corrected.

“Oh, the one with the bitch tits?” Michele asked, her bitchy nature showing itself once again.

“No, not the one with the bitch tits. The cute one, with the glasses.”

“The hipster?” Haley asked.

“Yeah!” Sarah exclaimed. She had a thing for nerds. By which I mean anyone with glasses. But they had to be cute. And in shape. And not have any imperfections at all. And they couldn’t play video games either, because that’s stupid. You know, nerds.

  Before either of her two friends could answer, they were gripped by the passion of a random gust of wind.

“Ah!” They all screamed in unison, frightened by the sudden, and completely not frightening at all, event. They soon recovered, however, and started their deep and complex conversation again.

To everyone in the vicinity, that minor windstorm would have seamed like nothing more than a small annoyance. But, it was much more than that to one particular creature.

Was it the pigeon sitting on the lamppost above, its butt about ready to explode its contents on the girls below? Was it the alligator in the sewer? Was it the businessman who happened to be on a very important business call? Could it be the guy who was riding his bike only a foot away from that man, hot coffee placed precariously in the basket? Or could it be the alien who was sitting quit peacefully in an alley to the right, cloaked with an alien-cloaking machine? Was it the ghost who was meeting with a demon on the other side of the fountain, planning revenge for what happened during the HALO project? Perhaps it was the other alien who was disguised as a homeless man and far to busy grumbling to himself about the events on planet H-raven to notice anything? Or was it the fly that everything else of importance has happened to? That last option would be rather predictable, wouldn’t it?

Find out next time on…

A Fly On The Wall!

End Notes:

A short chapter this time. Sorry about not getting this out quicker. Actualy, I'm not. I don't know why i wrote that. Anyway, I've been working on another, slightly more seriouse work that should be hitting the mostrecent section any day now. So keep an eye out for that as well.

Chapter 22: Boobs 2, the Triumphant Return by sickpuppies
Author's Notes:

Were back for the second season of… A Fly On The Wall! Yes that’s right folks, your favorite story has been brought back to life by the magic of science! So sit back, relax, grab your favorite brand of lotion, and enjoy! Don’t worry, only a few mummies were harmed in the continuation of this work.

To answer the question posed in the previous chapter, it was Nick. Well, and a little bit the business guy, but mostly just Nick.

            When the wind blew with its surprisingly powerful gust, it sent the bicyclist, who really wasn’t paying as much attention to his surroundings as he should have, straight into the path of the businessman. But luckily the man was able to jump out of the way before anything crashy happened. However this did cause him to be exactly one and a half feet over from where he was, and as a result, his whole day was slightly to the left. This doesn’t make much sense, and doesn’t seem like a big issue, but in the greater scope of things it really was. But, that is a story for another time. Not the story for another time, as I have been referring to over the course of this novella, but just something that isn’t interesting enough to be brought up here.

            Nick on the other hand was faced with more immediate consequences. The gust of wind swooped down under him, picking his small, lightweight body up with as much effort as this joke. That is to say, not very much.

            “Woah!” Nick shouted as he was tossed about in the air. Really, he said it more because he felt he should, rather than out of actual fear. He had grown completely used to weird things happening, and being tossed around. Now, it didn’t even faze him.

            He landed with a plop on something warm, squishy, and yes, even firm. It took him only a moment to realize what it was he now clung to. The soft, delicate, but quit deadly skin of the giant Sarah. Or, more specifically, the soft, delicate skin of the top portion of her breasts.

            They stood out quit a ways from her chest, and allowed the fly a rather safe perch. There was very little chance he would actually fall off, given how humongous they really were.

            “Wow,” the fly said as he walked around the squishy mountain. There was something about monstrous breasts that could divert anyone’s attention. Deep inside him, Nick knew that he should be concerned with flying away and getting to safety, but that was not his primary concern at the moment. “These are some great boobs,” he moaned as he bent down, rubbing his face against the milky perfection.

            “Ugh, guys, like, I totally hate wind. You know?” Sahara blurted out to her friends, oblivious to the bug that was on her chest. “Its so windy.”

            “I know, right?” Haley responded. “Why can’t it just fuck off?”

            “It’s like it hates us!” Michele interjected. “We should move.” The other girls nodded their approval, then stood up to leave.

            What was a simple action to the giants was anything but to our little hero. The simple motion of standing up was like a miniature earthquake that, in the end, made the fly unbalanced, and caused him to fall, head first, down into the great valley that existed between the two mountains.

            As he slid further down, shouting in horror, the warm, plush skin started to grip him. The girl’s chest pressed in from all sides, cocooning him in their warm embrace.

            “mpphp!” Nick moaned as the girl’s breast continued to massage his tiny fly body, pushing his even further into the perfect, though slightly sweaty, crevasse.

            “Oh, hold up a second,” Michel said as she reached a hand into her pocket. She had a tough time removing her phone due to the intense tightness of her short-shorts, but that was the price one has to pay for fashion.

            “What now?” Sarah asked with an eye roll. Honestly Michel, you’re addicted to your fucking phone! The girl thought as she absentmindedly pulled her own cellular devise.

            “I thought I got a text,” Michel replied, once again shoving the tiny black box into her pocket, or at least as far as was possible. Haley took a moment to wonder how far the other girl would have to bend to rip those pants right off. Her mouth watered slightly at the thought.

            “Oh, cool,” Sarah said as she absentmindedly started typing away, her face bent down to see the screen.

            Geeze, I wonder what size those things actually are? Haley wondered, undressing the other girl with her mind. They have to be at least a D. No, double D for sure. Yeah, that’s it. A double D. She glanced down at her own breasts for a moment, feeling surprisingly inferior. Why can’t mine be double Ds!?

            Nick struggled to worm his way back up from between Sarah’s gigantic tities. He had to admit, being snuggled between these fleshy melons was amazing, but he also liked to breath. Thankfully the sweat helped to lubricate his massively disgusting body as he slid up.

            The boy silently shook his head as he thought about that. At one point in his life, such things would have made him gag. I guess you start thinking about things differently after being snuggly incased in a horse’s ass.

 

End Notes:

Ah, it feels nice to return to a story after so long…

Some of you were asking, “Why aren’t you continuing your story?” Well loyal fans, I’m not going to tell you. Why? Lets just say a zombie werewolf had me tied up and forced me to work on other, less fetishy, things.

Chapter 23: More on the Topic of "Boobs" by sickpuppies

“So, what now?” Sarah asked, her eyes still locked on the illuminated screen of her smart phone. Or, as she would so creatively refer to it every time autocorrect messed up her perfect text, her dumb phone.

“I don’t know,” Michel said as her hand absentmindedly slipped back into her pocket, her fingers squeezing around her cellular devise.

I wish she would squeeze her fingers around me, Haley thought silently to herself.        

I wish I could get out of these things! Nick practically shouted inside his skull.

“The mall?” Michel offered.

“Fine,” Sarah replied, absentmindedly moving her feet in a way that would propel her body further. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but who cared?

“Cool.” Haley started walking with her friend, looking back at Michel, waiting for her to follow, completely missing the tiny black bug poking up from Sarah’s breasts.

  “Freedom!” Nick cried as his head breached the surface of the blonde’s bouncing boobies. Of course they didn’t here his call, him being a fly and all.

“We can try on clothes and stuff, right?” Haley tried her best to hide her excitement at the thought. Perhaps we could try on some underwear too? Undress each other; tell each other what things look good. Though everything looks good on you, Michel. She glanced back at Sarah. Though you could stand to loose a few pounds.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Sarah said, her breast bobbing up and down as if some invisible hand was silently molesting them. More on that in a moment.

“Great!” Michel said, her phone once again in her pocket. “Hey Sarah, what’s that in your shirt?”

“What?” the blond asked, her face screwed up as if trying to solve a puzzle made up of completely white pieces. That is, a look of frustration.

“In your shirt, what is that?”

“Oh. My. God. Michel, you can’t just pretend like you don’t know what tits are just because Sarah is a little small!” Haley exclaimed. Though I completely agree.

“You bitch!” Sarah shouted, her eyes not looking away from her cellphone screen. “I ought to slap you!”

“Go ahead!” Michel challenged. “I could take your skinny ass any day!”

You tell ‘em girl! Haley thought lustily. Every girl should have a little meat on her bones.

“That’s it, I’m going to totally slap you!” Sarah dropped her gaze, and for a moment, saw the tiny, black, squirming bug in her cleavage. “Oh my god! A bug!” she screamed, backing away as if that could possibly help. “Get it away!”

“Oh no!” the other two shouted in unison, for the girl was moving dangerously close to the street. Sarah, showing about as much bravery as she possibly could, reached into her shirt, her hand clutching the small, disgusting, shit stained fly, and yanked at it. The tiny little devil came free much like Excalibur did from the stone. “EWWWWWWWW!” she shouted, dropping the thing. Somewhere in the distance, a truck honked its massive horn.

Nick didn’t protest much, for he knew there was little he could really do. He just let his body fall, lazily, to wherever it was that it was going to fall. He knew it was going to be someplace unfathomably bad, like down a sewer grate, or into a heaping pile of used gum, but it wasn’t like anything he tried in the past helped him get away from such situations. So he fell, past the girl’s rocking chest, away from her far-too-skinny-to-be-healthy waist, down from her slimy (presumably) crotch, and right into that small, impossible spot between the inside of her shoe and her sock. Yes, he had just found his way into the girl’s shoe. What a surprise, he thought to himself, as the girl jumped up, pushing him further into his newest, yet not nearly smelliest, prison.

End Notes:

Lesson of the day: If you have finals, don’t try to reincarnate a dead story, because you won’t be able to update it for two weeks!

Anyway, today’s chapter was a little short, and you might be wondering why. Well Mr. nosy, I’ll tell you! Its because I’m running out of ideas. This is where you, my noble readers, come into play. Tell me everything you want to happen to our little fly! Trapped in a sock? Doing that now so try not to say that, but anything else I’m open to. Literally anything. Honestly, the more disturbing, grotesque, horrible it is, the more likely I am to include it. Don’t believe me? Give the chapters involving the horses another go.

This story archived at http://www.giantessworld.net/viewstory.php?sid=4216