Chapter 2
Stefan let himself fall backward onto the bed – the cool, taut sheet felt like salvation after the muggy night. The air conditioner hummed quietly, the smell of Mint’s fart still lingered faintly in his nose, mixed with the hotel shampoo and the light film of sweat on his skin. His phone lay next to him on the pillow. He opened Line, scrolled briefly through the three new contacts and tapped on NookNook69.
His fingers hesitated for a moment – then he typed:
“Hey, I’m the smell guy from today. ? I have an interesting offer.”
He pressed Send before he could change his mind.
The ticks turned blue immediately – she was online. Three dots appeared … and disappeared again … then dots once more. It took almost a minute before the message came.
Nook: Hahaahahaha omg you’re really back ?ﾟﾘﾭ Smell guy still alive? ? What kind of offer? Tell me quick, I’m on break and eating Som Tam
He saw her send a sticker – one of those cute cat emojis with big eyes and question marks above its head.
His heart beat faster. The fantasy from earlier – the ball, the giant butt, the asshole as his entire sky – was now fully back. He knew he shouldn’t blurt out the offer too quickly. But he also didn’t want to beat around the bush. Stefan typed the message in – carefully worded, but still direct enough that she would understand he was serious. His thumb hovered for a moment over “Send,” then he pressed it.
His message to Nook:
“Sounds a bit unusual but can you go to my hotel room tomorrow morning? I’m not at home. On the table there is a small ball and a weak glue. Can you take the ball and find a pretty working girl with unshaved armpits? Please clarify with me to glue the ball in her armpit for 12 hours. After that please bring the ball back safely. Is that possible? How much does it cost?”
He put the phone down next to him on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The air conditioner hummed, outside the muffled traffic of Sukhumvit Road could be heard. His pulse was still high from the events of the evening, and now he waited for her reaction.
It took less than 30 seconds before the three dots appeared. Then:
Nook: ……… wtf ?ﾟﾘﾂ?ﾟﾘﾂ You really mean that seriously?? Ball glued in armpit?? 12 hours?? And I’m supposed to find another girl for that with “unshaved armpits”??
Dots again … longer this time.
Nook: Okay first breathe. That’s by far the craziest thing anyone has ever written to me. And I’ve heard a lot ? But you always pay well and you’re harmless, so … let’s talk.
Nook:
I’m not going alone into your hotel room if you’re not there. Too risky for me. Either you’re there and hand me the ball personally, or I’m not coming at all.
I can organize a girl, yes. Unshaved? That’s not so common here (many shave or wax), but I know some who are natural. Ploy for example hasn’t shaved anything lately because she was lazy ? Or I can ask Mint or others.
12 hours glued in the armpit? That sounds like … torture for the poor girl. She sweats there all day. And weak glue? What kind of ball is that anyway?? Is there something inside? Drugs? Camera? Tell me the truth, otherwise no.
Price: If I do this (organize girl + take responsibility + bring back), then at least 20,000 Baht. Prepayment by transfer or cash. Plus 5,000 extra for the other girl. And only if you guarantee me that the ball is harmless and nothing illegal is inside.
Nook: If you tell me what’s really going on (why ball? why armpit? why 12 hrs?), then maybe less money or I’ll even do it myself. But if you’re messing with me or there’s something dangerous in it → police immediately.
Nook: So? Tell me more. And tell me hotel + room number if you want me to come tomorrow morning (but only if you’re there!!). I’m curious now ?
She sent one more sticker after that: a monkey covering its eyes and peeking through its fingers.
Stefan typed the message in, quickly corrected the typos, and sent it:
“It’s just a ball. What if I leave the ball at the reception downstairs. You pick it up there. Half the money right away, the other half later.”
The three dots appeared almost immediately. Nook was still online – probably sitting there with her Som Tam, staring at the screen.
Nook: Hmmm… okay, that already sounds safer for me. Reception is public, cameras everywhere, no one can say I stole anything.
Nook: But let’s make this clear:
You hand over the ball + the weak glue at reception (in an envelope or bag with my name on it, e.g. “For NookNook”).
I pick it up, tell reception I’m your friend or something.
You transfer me 12,500 Baht immediately (half of 25k, I’m making it 25k total now – 20k + 5k for the other girl). Cash doesn’t work because I’d only come later.
I find a pretty girl with unshaved armpits (Ploy is perfect for it right now, she hasn’t done anything for 2 weeks ?).
We glue the ball firmly in her armpit for 12 hours – really firmly, right? Weak glue? Then maybe double glue or something.
After exactly 12 hours (I’ll time it) we carefully remove it and I bring the ball back to reception (or directly to you in the room if you’re there then).
Remaining 12,500 Baht immediately upon return.
Nook: But I still need a few more infos, otherwise no:
Which hotel exactly? (Name + address so I know where)
Room number? Or do you just tell reception “for guest in room XYZ”?
Exactly when tomorrow morning? 9 a.m.? 10 a.m.? Earlier?
The ball – how big is it? (Phone-sized? Marble-sized? Tennis ball?) And how heavy? So I know what I’m picking up.
Why armpit and not something else? And why 12 hours? Is this some fetish thing or something scientific? (I’m not judging, just curious ?)
Do you guarantee me there’s nothing dangerous in it? No camera, no poison, no drugs, nothing that makes the girl sick? If yes, then okay.
Nook: If you tell me all that and send the 12,500 right away (via TrueMoney, PromptPay or bank transfer – tell me how), then I’ll do it. Ploy is free tomorrow, I can ask her. She’s already cracking up laughing if I tell her.
Nook: Deal? Send me the details and the money, then I’ll be there tomorrow morning. ?
Stefan was still lying on the bed, staring at the messages. His heart was pounding. This was becoming real – the ball he had intended to use himself was now supposed to be “tested” by Nook and another girl, without him being directly present. In her armpit. 12 hours. With his tiny self inside.
Stefan typed the message, corrected any small errors, and sent
it:
“Okay, Deal. Hotel: Sukhumvit Bliss Hotel, Sukhumvit Soi 19, Bangkok. Room: 1207. Tomorrow morning 10 a.m. – I’ll be there and give you the envelope with the ball + glue personally. Time period: exactly 12 hours, from 12:00 noon until 00:00 midnight. The ball is tiny, about 1 cm in diameter (like a large marble), empty & harmless, just metal, hollow, lots of small holes in it (like a sieve). No camera, nothing illegal, promised. Please look for Ploy (or another pretty girl with unshaved armpits). Money: 12,500 Baht immediately via PromptPay/TrueMoney – send me your number or QR code for it. Rest 12,500 after return of the ball (latest 01:00 a.m.). Thanks, Nook. You’re the best for this.”
He sent it.
Nook replied after 2 minutes:
“Wow… okay, that sounds almost professional now ? I’ll take it. PromptPay number: 081-xxx-xxxx (she sent you the full link/QR as an image). Send the 12,500 now, then I’ll be there punctually at 10 a.m. tomorrow. I’ll ask Ploy right away – she already says yes, cracking up laughing and saying ‘if it’s only 12 hours, I’ll survive it’ ? See you tomorrow, crazy Smell Guy. Sleep well… or not ?￢ﾀﾝ
Stefan opened his banking app (or TrueMoney), transferred the 12,500 Baht – transaction confirmed in seconds. Nook sent a thumbs-up emoji + a kiss sticker.
The rest of the evening passed in a haze. He took a hot shower, lay awake for a while, stared at the ceiling and kept seeing Mint’s asshole in front of him, then Ploy’s armpit (which he now imagined unshaved – dark, soft hairs, warm film of sweat, the scent of 12 hours of everyday life). The fear mixed with pure anticipation. He knew: Tomorrow he would be tiny. 1 mm tall. In a steel ball with holes, turning Ploy’s armpit into his universe.
The next morning – 8:30 a.m.
Stefan got up early. The room was quiet, the sun slanted through the curtains. He took the shrinking machine, placed it on the table, aimed the beam at himself. He placed the small, hollow steel ball (1 cm diameter, countless tiny holes) next to it, together with the weak glue (a small jar of double-sided, skin-friendly adhesive pads he had prepared especially for this).
He activated the machine. A soft hum, a warm flash – and suddenly he was tiny. 1 mm tall. The world exploded in scale: The bed was a mountain range, the carpet a dense forest of fibers. He climbed into the ball (which now felt like a spacious, steel cave to him), pulled the tiny lid shut (it clicked magnetically). Through the holes he saw everything sharply: colors, light, movements – and he heard every sound amplified.
He had attached a tiny hook to the ball (prepared), so it could be easily grasped. He positioned himself so he had a clear view outward through the holes – especially “up” and “forward.”
With his last strength (a mammoth task at his size) he pushed the ball into a prepared envelope he had already labeled yesterday: “For Nook – 10 a.m. – please do not open!”. He sealed it (as well as possible in miniature) and somehow managed to maneuver the envelope to the door. He called room service (via the tiny but functional microphone in the ball, coupled with the machine) and asked them to take the envelope to reception.
The hotel employee knocked briefly, took the envelope without comment and brought it downstairs.
He was now in the ball, in the envelope, on the way to reception. Everything vibrated slightly when someone walked. He heard muffled voices, the hum of the air conditioner, the distant roar of the city.
10:05 a.m. – He felt the envelope being moved. A warm hand reached in. Nook’s voice, loud and close through the holes:
“There it is… small, but cute. Okay, Smell Guy – or whatever you are now… Ploy is already waiting. 12 hours starting now. Here we go.”
The envelope was opened. Bright light flooded in. Nook’s face huge above him – she grinned, carefully lifted the ball.
“Ploy! Your new accessory for today!” she called, laughing.
Ploy’s voice answered from the side: “Let me see… ohhh, really tiny. Okay, let’s do this.”
He saw Ploy’s armpit – unshaved, as promised. Dark, soft hairs, already slightly damp from the morning, warm scent rising: soap, remnants of deodorant, natural skin, a hint of sweat from the journey here.
Nook held the ball close. Ploy raised her arm. An adhesive pad was stuck on. Then him – right in the center of the armpit. The contact was warm, soft, the hairs brushed the ball like giant trees. The glue held. Ploy lowered her arm.
Suddenly darkness – and warmth. Confinement. The scent exploded: salty, musky, alive, intense. Every one of her breaths moved the skin slightly, a warm draft blew through the holes. He heard her heart beating, the soft rustle of her clothing, her footsteps.
The 12 hours had begun.
Stefan was now 1 mm tall, firmly glued in the center of Ploy’s right armpit. The glue held him securely, but not so brutally that it would hurt – the tiny hairs around him constantly brushed against the steel surface of his ball like a dense forest of soft, warm trees. Every one of her breaths moved the skin slightly – a gentle rise and fall, like waves on a living ocean. The scent was immediately omnipresent: warm, salty, a hint of fresh shower gel (coconut and something citrusy), underneath it the natural, musky smell of her skin, which intensified with every drop of sweat that formed.
The first minutes were overwhelming. He enjoyed it – really. No escape, no distraction. Only Ploy. Her armpit was his entire sky, his walls, his universe. Through the holes he saw in all directions: dark, moist hairs moving like giant palm trees, the smooth, golden-brown skin rippling slightly with every movement, tiny beads of sweat glistening like glass spheres and slowly rolling toward the ball before being absorbed by the skin.
10:15 a.m. – Ploy and Nook left the hotel
He heard their voices muffled but clear – as if he were directly inside her body.
Nook: “And? Feeling anything yet?” Ploy laughed softly: “Nah, nothing at all. It’s like some little metal button. Just tickles a bit when I raise my arm.” Nook: “Haha, the Smell Guy is paying 25k so you can stink for 12 hours. Best job ever.”
They both laughed. Ploy raised her arm experimentally – suddenly it got brighter, fresh air streamed through the holes, the scent briefly lightened. Then she lowered it again. Darkness. Warmth. Confinement. He felt the pressure of her skin wrapping around the ball like a warm blanket.
10:45 a.m. – Ride in the Grab
Ploy sat in the back, arm casually on the rest. Every bump in the road made her body vibrate – a gentle shaking that transferred to him. The sweat was now really starting. Not much, but enough that a small bead dripped directly onto his ball. It ran along the outside, seeped through a hole and hit his tiny skin. Salty. Warm. Alive. He instinctively licked it – the taste was intense, almost sweetly salty, like seawater with a hint of her natural scent.
12:00 noon – First bar (Soi Cowboy)
Ploy went to work. He already heard the music from afar – loud bass, Thai-pop remixes. She danced on the small stage. Every movement was an earthquake for him: arms up, hips circling, spins. With every arm raise, fresh (but hot) air rushed in – the scent grew stronger, the sweat now flowed in small rivulets. The hairs stuck together damply, almost completely enclosing his ball. Through the holes he saw: huge, sweaty skin landscapes moving, glistening, breathing.
A customer ordered a drink. Ploy leaned forward – the arm dropped deep. Suddenly he was almost squeezed between upper arm and ribs. The pressure was enormous, but not painful – only overwhelmingly tight. The smell became denser: sweat, perfume, a hint of cigarette smoke from outside. He heard her heartbeat speed up – maybe excitement, maybe just from dancing.
1:30 p.m. – First “customer”
Ploy went with a guy (Australian, mid-40s, loud laugh) into a small room upstairs. She lay down, arm over her head – classic pose. His world went pitch black and hot. The sweat flowed stronger now. Small drops gathered, ran over the ball, seeped in. The scent was now pure: salty, musky, a bit sour from the day. She barely moved – only light breathing, occasional sigh or soft laugh.
He heard everything: the rustle of the sheets, the guy’s quiet moaning, Ploy’s professional “Yes baby, like that.” But for him it was all far away. His universe was only her armpit: the pulsating skin, the steady flow of sweat, the warm, moist pressure.
3:00 p.m. – Break
Ploy sat outside, smoking a cigarette. Arm hanging loose again. The sweat dried a bit, became sticky. The smell changed: less fresh, more intense, almost cheesy from the long day. He enjoyed it – the change, the development of the scent, how it became deeper, earthier.
6:00 p.m. – Dinner time
Ploy ate Som Tam and grilled chicken at a street stall. Spicy food. He felt her body react – light bloating, a small rumble in her stomach (which he heard through the skin like distant thunder). She laughed with Nook: “The little one in there is probably getting something spicy now.” Nook: “Hope he holds out. Still 6 hours…”
8:00 p.m. – Peak time
More dancing. More customers. The sweat was now massive. His ball was wet, slippery, surrounded by a warm, salty lake. The scent was overwhelming – animalistic, raw, addictive. Every movement was a tsunami: arms up during pole dance, tighter pressure when sitting on a customer’s lap, fresh air when she took a break outside.
11:30 p.m. – Last hour
Ploy was tired. She sat in the changing room, arm up, wiping herself with a damp cloth. The smell was now at its strongest: 12 hours of sweat, dancing, sex, food, everything mixed. He was soaked in it. It was too much and exactly right at the same time.
00:05 a.m.
Ploy raised her arm. Cool air rushed in – a shock after all the heat. Nook’s fingers carefully reached for the ball. The glue released easily (as planned). He saw her huge face again – sweaty, grinning.
The ball was placed in an envelope. He was on the move again – back to the hotel.
Stefan felt the ball being carefully placed into the envelope – one last gentle rocking, then it grew calmer. Nook’s footsteps echoed through the streets of Bangkok, the roar of the city mixing with the muffled laughter of Ploy and Nook. He was still wet, surrounded by the sticky, salty film that had accumulated over the last 12 hours. The scent lingered inside the ball like a warm fog – intense, raw, unforgettable. It had been overwhelming, sometimes almost too much, but that was exactly what he had wanted. And now that it was over, he felt a deep, satisfied exhaustion.
01:15 a.m. – Back in the hotel room
The envelope was opened. Bright room light flooded in. Nook’s face appeared huge above him – sweaty from the walk, but with that cheeky grin he already knew.
“Well, Smell Guy? Welcome back to the big world.”
She carefully lifted the ball, turned it in the light. “You look… wet. Ploy really gave it her all tonight. She laughed about you the whole evening – ‘The little one in there must be living like a fish in saltwater now.’”
Nook gently set the ball down on the desk, right next to the shrinking machine. Ploy had not come along – she was still out – but Nook had asked her to pass on: “Tell him thanks for the money and that he’s a freak, but a nice freak.”
He was still tiny, so Nook’s voice sounded like rolling thunder – warm, close, vibrating through the holes of the ball.
Nook sat down on the edge of the bed, leaned forward. “So… how was it? Too much? Just right? Or do you want to try something different next time? Feet? Butt? Or maybe…” – she playfully raised her arm, sniffed it herself briefly and pulled a face, laughing – “…with me? I didn’t shave today either.”
Stefan – still 1 mm tall inside the steel ball – had his own tiny phone with him, shrunk along with him. Line was already open in the chat with NookNook69. He held the miniature device in both hands, typed quickly and fluently on the shrunken keyboard, and sent the message:
“It was a great experience. Thank you very much, Nook. You and Ploy did it perfectly. I’m transferring the remaining 12,500 to you now plus a little extra – let’s say 5,000 Baht more. As a thank you.”
Nook’s phone buzzed almost immediately. She glanced at the screen, eyes widening, then burst out laughing.
“25k + 5k extra? Baby… you’re really crazy, but I like it.” She laughed heartily, leaned even closer to the ball – her breath blew warm through the holes. Then she paused, her grin turning a little softer, almost conspiratorial.
“By the way… I should probably tell you something. I kinda knew the whole time that you were actually inside the ball. Not just some weird experiment or whatever. From the moment you told me about the tiny holes and the ‘harmless metal ball’ and how small it was… I put two and two together. The shrinking thing, you being gone, the ‘Smell Guy’ asking for exactly that setup. Ploy didn’t know – she really thought it was just some kinky gadget. But me? Yeah, I figured it out pretty quick. And honestly… it made the whole thing even funnier. And kinda hot, in a weird way.”
She winked at the ball, tapped the desk lightly next to it with one finger.
“So yeah. I knew you were in there the entire 12 hours. Listening, smelling, feeling everything. And I didn’t say a word to Ploy. Your secret’s safe. But now you know I knew.”
She laughed again, softer this time, and continued: “If you’re ever back in Bangkok or feel like round 2 – just Line me. Just say ‘Smell Guy wants more’, and I’ll organize something. Maybe with all three of us. Or something completely new. You know how it works now. And next time… maybe I won’t pretend I don’t know.”
She stood up, stretched. “I’ll leave you alone for now… to grow back? Or do you want to stay that small and do a second shift?” She winked. “Joking aside – should I leave the ball open so you can get out? Or are you doing that yourself with your machine?” No answer, so she leaves.
Stefan concentrated, ignoring the slight dizziness and the tightness inside the ball. With tiny but determined movements, he pushed against the magnetic lid. It clicked into place – a soft click that sounded to him like a loud snap. Fresh, cool hotel room air streamed in, mixed with the lingering scent of Ploy’s armpit that had embedded itself in the ball over the last hours.
He climbed out. The desk was now a gigantic, smooth continent of dark wood for him. Every step felt like crossing an endless plain. The shrinking machine towered before him like a monstrous tower – its display glowed faintly, the control panels like colossal touchscreens to him.
He reached the control surface, climbed up (the tiny irregularities in the metal served as handholds), and pressed with all his strength on the “Reverse” button. A warm flash surged through him, the hum grew louder, the world shrank back together – or rather: he grew.
Seconds later he stood there in normal size, naked, sweaty, with the salty, musky smell still clinging to his skin. The ball lay harmlessly on the table, now just a small, inconspicuous steel marble with holes. He picked it up, felt its weight – so light, so innocent – and carefully placed it back into the safe. Code: 2519. Click.
He showered long and hot. The water washed away the day, but not the memories. Every drop reminded him of the beads of sweat that had rolled over the ball. He dried himself off, put on boxer shorts, and let himself fall onto the bed. The air conditioner hummed, outside the neon lights of Bangkok blinked through the curtains.
The first test had been a success. Complete. Intense. Overwhelming. He smiled into the darkness as his eyes closed.
Tomorrow: nothing. Just resting. Breakfast in bed, maybe a bit of sightseeing (without hurry), a massage appointment at the hotel spa, a few Chang beers by the pool. No ball, no armpits, no working girls. Just him and the city slowly becoming normal again.
And the day after tomorrow… it would continue.
He fell asleep, with the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the distant honking of the motorcycle taxis in his ears.