Bubblartse Gum

Quiz time!

The good ending

Lartse was getting more and more motivated with each good answer, so much so that Chris kept stroking its hair all the way through and complimenting its quick thinking and clear explanations. In the end, it passed with flying colours. Chris was proud of his mini-nerd, both of them smiling with joy.
“Well done! I definitely understand it better now thanks to you. I still have a lot to learn by heart, but at least I get the logic behind it now!”
“Th-Thanks Chris Sir!” Lartse could not help but blush. “And if you, hm… i-if you need help for your exams, I could… you know…”
“Could what?” Chris frowned, confused.
“You know, help you…” It lowered its voice, even though it was already barely audible. “…cheat… if you put me in your ear or something…”
“Oh!” Chris erupted into laughter. “Oh no, goodness! Like, no offense, but that’s not my style! I gotta know that stuff for when I’m on the field, you know? I can’t risk people’s lives just because I was too lazy to study for one exam.”
Lartse turned bright red and covered its face in shame. “Oh, sorry Ch-Chris Sir, I-I-I…” it stammered out on the verge of tears. “I just want you to be the best!”
Chris gave his pet a light pat on the head. He simply couldn’t help finding it very cute. “Don’t worry, I get it! Your offer is appreciated, little one. But you should know by now…” He put his hands behind his head, stretching and flexing, his shirt tensing and barely managing to contain his bulging muscles. “…I am already the best!” He propped his feet on the desk, right next to the Petri dish, his tired soles towering over his pet to give it a show of true might.

Lartse couldn’t see Chris Sir grinning, now that his soles took most of its vision, but it had no trouble picturing the relaxed, cocky face of its titanic master. It had spent many, many hours staring at him, eyeing his toned body and the ripple of his muscles when he stretched, dreaming of being tightly hugged in his big arms, yearning to be suffocated between his thick thighs, salivating when his Converse-clad feet would twitch and bounce and show the slightest hint of sole or sock, tensing in pleasure whenever he would so often erupt into laughter and reveal his perfect glistening teeth… Lartse couldn’t have been more infatuated with Chris Sir, couldn’t have wished more to belong to him body and soul; and here it was, a literal insect at the feet of the man who bested it in every way that mattered. It was so insignificant that the mere sight of his plump toes looming above the plastic container was nothing less than a godly apparition, an effective reminder of its place and inferiority.

Far beyond the imagination of his awestruck pet, Chris was lazily scrolling through his phone, and soon the short study break became a much longer procrastination session. His pet had slipped out of his mind; he had gotten into this strange state of semi-boredom, slumped in his chair, without enough will to scratch the itch of doing something fun, such that he didn’t notice his feet were idly toying with the items on his desk.
To Lartse, this was a mini-rampage. Its surroundings were thrown left and right, making a complete mess, and it wasn’t long before its little home became the target of the dexterous toes: they flicked the Petri dish upright on its side and rolled it back and forth. Lartse found itself sliding down as the sticky saliva was slowly collecting in the shadow of the sole.
Then, without any warning, the Petri dish was dropped flat on the desk, with Lartse outside in its little pool of spit. The sole came down on the puny pet, unknowingly pressing it into the flesh.

Chris eventually found deep within him the strength to get up and fetch a drink. He dragged his tired feet to the kitchen and took a can of orange soda from the fridge. It was only then he realized there was something stuck to his sole, something… suspiciously squishy. He raised his sole into view, holding to the sink for balance, and found Lartse mashed flat into a paste. Well, not exactly a paste… more like a chewed-up piece of gum.
Lartse took a deep breath of relief when Chris Sir peeled it off his warm sole. It had somewhat enjoyed the unexpected ride underfoot — or rather, it had enjoyed the crushing feeling of powerlessness; the spotless kitchen tiles had been much too cold to bear, and the air had been getting thin once Chris Sir stopped walking… Well, it had no right to complain. It was somehow still alive: its body had lost all shape except for its face, but its mind was working all the same.
Lartse seemed to be taking this new development quite nonchalantly; Chris however was quite surprised. People with shape-changing quirks were not uncommon, but Chris was most certain that his mini-nerd was quirkless. Was this an effect of the failed mixture? Was this how his Invincible Touch reacted with tiny people? Was it made this malleable from bathing in his spit? His mind raced for explanations… then stopped abruptly on one thought: who cared? The poor little thing was definitely beyond salvation now, too far removed from the human being it had been just an hour ago. …Which opened the possibility of keeping it forever. His eyes lit up with devious excitement, and he stood straight with renewed energy.

“Hey, Squishy,” he affectionately asked his pet, “can you still talk?”
The piece of gum tried to open its mouth, but only managed to produce a tiny bubble that popped instantly. Chris Sir didn’t seem too disappointed, though, and continued: “Oh well, I just meant to ask you a simple question anyway. Pop once for yes, twice for no, you know how it goes.” He secured Lartse tight in the palm of his hand to open the bottle, then took a big chug, making sure his pet had the best view of his throat bobbing with each loud gulp. “Haaa… That was refreshing. So, yeah, I meant to ask. I don’t think there’s a way out of this for you now, and honestly I wouldn’t even know where to begin if I had to explain your situation to anyone. So, will you be my plaything forever? Let’s just drop the whole search for a cure, and I’ll make sure to treat you well.” He gave his pet a corny wink and took another sip of soda.
Lartse’s reaction was instant. It popped once, as loud as it could, like bubble wrap imploding from joy. Chris erupted into laughter and teased his plaything by rolling it between his fingers. “You are an eager little thing, aren’t you? I think you deserve this.” He pressed it flat against his Adam’s apple, keeping it in place with a single finger, and downed the rest of the bottle, making sure to exaggerate each movement of his throat.

Lartse was in heaven. It had never imagined it could ever be so close to Chris Sir, let alone in his possession; yet it was now being rewarded for its loyalty and sacrifices. It mind was overloaded with raw pleasure, each bump and bob of the mighty throat sending shivers through its whole mashed body. It wished it could express to its owner how immense its joy was, but the faint pressure of the fingertip keeping it in place was too much to overcome. It could do nothing but stay still while the soda rushed on the other side of the skin like a waterfall.
Chris raised the bottle to make the last drops fall into his maw, then let out a loud sigh of satisfaction followed by a quiet burp. He kept his plaything against his throat a bit longer before peeling it off and rolling it into a vaguely human shape. “Hope that was fun! I should probably clean you up before we go further, though.” He turned to the sink, let the water warm up for a moment, and gently rubbed his pet clean.
The lightest of Chris Sir’s touches still felt to Lartse like being run over by a truck, but its newfound malleability only made the intensity of the massage all the more satisfying. Chris Sir was kneading away all the worry and the pain of a life it was already beginning to forget about. It could never have dreamed of being this relaxed and carefree, kept and turned into putty in good hands — no, in the best hands, taking part in the life of its biggest idol for the ridiculously low price of giving away its own.

Once his plaything was clean enough, Chris flicked it into his mouth and started chewing it. After all, that’s what a piece of gum is made for, and this one in particular was very fond of his mouth… He shuffled back to his living room, turned on the TV and plopped down on a beanbag. He figured he had deserved some gaming time and let himself get pulled into a few matches. He was chewing absent-mindedly on his gum, blowing big bubbles and letting them pop sharply on his lips.

Chris Sir’s mouth was comfy and warm and even better than Lartse had imagined. The tongue made for a soft bed, though the tiny pet didn’t get much rest on it; soon, the pearly teeth were hard at work, lazily tearing through its body to bring the flavour out of it. Lartse might as well have been caught in the cogs of an infernal machine, for how easily it yielded between the powerful molars. Again and again and again and again Chris Sir squeezed the marrow out of it, and all the saliva it was bathing in only made it more malleable, almost slimy in substance; it felt like a fish in water, free of pain and worry in its natural habitat. The piece of gum would get a short rest whenever Chris Sir brought it against his lips, but then the force of the air pressing against its flat form and shaping it into a bubble stretched its body to its limits and broke its structure even more. Lartse was literally melting in Chris Sir’ mouth like an ice cube, and neither of them seemed to notice it, until the jock lost his grip on his plaything when it had become too liquid.
Lartse tried to extend a hand it didn’t have towards a tooth too large and smooth to grab, and after a quick slide down the tongue, the throat opened wide under its metaphorical feet to welcome it in an unescapable embrace. Lartse trickled down into the darkness and soon joined the stomach acid, which made quick work of its body and mind. It only had time for one last thought as its nerves burned like fire: that this was all its fault, but that at least it had entertained Chris Sir, if only a little. It didn’t die peacefully, but it died content of its servitude.

Chris didn’t try to stop himself from swallowing when he realized his new plaything was going down his throat, nor did he try to rescue it once it had landed in his stomach. He didn’t care whether it had been an accident or a willing sacrifice, nor did he care about what would happen to his tiny pet. He didn’t miss the chewy feeling and chicken-y taste in his mouth, nor did he spare a thought for the mini-nerd when he shoved its clothes and useless lab notes into a trash bag. He didn’t think it deserved a keepsake, nor did he ever wonder if this could have gone another way. Just like any other food, this piece of gum had gotten out of his life just as quickly as it had entered it, a simple snackrifice in a busy day.

The bad ending

However, Lartse quickly found out its mind wasn’t as sharp as usual, quite foggy in fact, probably from the rough trip home. It had trouble understanding some of the questions or properly explaining some of its reasonings. The more the quiz went on, the more it felt disconcerted by what should have been an easy endeavor. In the end, it didn’t score badly, far from it and nothing to scoff at; but this was much below its usual, and Chris Sir had scored better than his mini-nerd.

Chris was equal parts baffled and excited. He hadn’t expected to almost ace this quiz, neither had he expected Lartse to score quite lower than him! He couldn’t help but feel victorious over his tiny pet. He bent over the Petri dish, his face looming over the minuscule occupant, his broad grin filling the sky.
“Well, you didn’t make yourself too useful there, if at all, did you? I guess I truly am the big brain here~” he gloated. “Maybe I should have taken over that chemistry assignment, I’d probably have solved it, unlike you…” His elbow almost knocked the Petri dish off the desk when he rested his head in his hand. He loved playing the role of the cocky jock, and given the look on its face Lartse was enjoying it too. “Maybe you’ll become smarter if I let you drink some of my juice?” he wondered out loud. After a pause, he added: “You know what? Entertain me. Beg for it.”
Lartse wasn’t sure what Chris Sir meant by his “juice”, but it was sure it would enjoy whatever he had in mind. This new side of him was making it blush red plus ultra, and it would do anything to make its owner lean into it even more. It complied and fell to its knees, joining hands and babbling praise about its god. “O Chris Sir, greatest mind in the universe, I implore you! I’m less worthy than a bit of your toe lint, but please, a single drop of your juice would be a blessing for a feeble bug like me!”
Chris amusedly watched his pet bow lower than low. “That’s good… enough.” With that, he spat on Lartse again.

To the giant, this was both a reward to his pet for its obedience and a humiliating way to remind it of its place. To Lartse, this was like a cloud far above had dropped all of its water at once. The puny pet found itself completely spit-soaked, flailing to keep above the surface and shivering from the shock. It could barely swim through the thick saliva: its limbs were too weak to even part the sticky spit, and with each movement they seemed to… stretch? They bent awkwardly as if they were broken, but Lartse somehow couldn’t feel any pain or discomfort; on the contrary, it was in a state of pure, yet uncanny bliss. It had the nagging thought that something wasn’t right, though it wasn’t sure how to communicate its distress to its owner.

Chris could barely hear his pet’s muffled whimper, but its body language clearly indicated trouble anyway. Hell, its body itself was a sign that things weren’t right: Chris could see the arms of his mini-nerd waving like noodles. His mind wandered for a second to the delicious image of spicy ramen noodles, then focused back on the bizarre situation.
“You okay, dude?” he asked in a soft voice. The whimper grew slightly louder. “Okay, I’m gonna fish you out of there. Don’t move, don’t panic. Got it?” He gingerly brought two fingers around Lartse, then gently pressed them into a claw. He picked up his pet, softly dropped it on a folded tissue and gave it a closer look. His brow furrowed with confusion when he saw that Lartse, while not injured, still had its limbs weirdly stretched… and that there were now two deep dents in its body, just where Chris had gripped it.

Lartse smiled at Chris Sir. It was feeling fine now, thanks to its master’s quick reaction! …Except for its weird limbs, but it still couldn’t feel any pain there and they seemed to move just fine; they just couldn’t keep straight to support its weight, forcing it to stay sat. There had been weirder things happening this evening, anyway. It had trouble parsing Chris Sir’s expression, though: was that worry on his face? Was there something he could see from above that it had failed to notice? Lartse looked around: nothing else too unusual… then downwards: its chest was completely caved in. Its lungs should have been reduced to mush, yet it had no trouble breathing. Panic quickly settled in, and Lartse found itself trembling with confusion, thoughts spiraling into anxiety. What was going on? Why was this happening? What had it done to deserve this?
…Maybe this was simply its new nature. It was not even a human being anymore, only half flesh and half spit, putty in the hands of its owner. There was no chance of going back to its normal life now… and maybe that was okay, if that meant it could spend the rest of its time with Chris Sir. Come to think of it, Lartse would happily pay that price again for its idol.

Meanwhile, Chris failed to come up with a solution for this new development. He couldn’t wrap his head around whatever was happening to his pet… and then he realized he didn’t care. There probably wasn’t any way to fix this, and the dumb mini-nerd was not worth that much effort. It had said it itself, after all: it was less worthy than a bit of toe lint.
Toe lint, huh?… A grin crept its way across Chris’ face. Maybe Lartse could still be useful for a little fun.

“Chris S-Sir?” Lartse inquired, slightly worried by the look on its master’s face. It trusted him, of course, but it wasn’t sure what he had in mind. Anything would be better than the sorry state it was in: it just needed to know what that anything would be.
“Don’t worry, little one,” Chris replied with a deep, sultry voice. “I’ll make you into the piece of toe lint that you so dearly wish you were… And if you make yourself useful at my feet, I’ll keep you down there.” He extended a finger towards his pet. “Deal?”
Lartse jumped at the opportunity and at its master’s digit. It bowed before the fingertip and planting a loving kiss on it. Chris Sir erupted into laughter. “I just wanted you to shake it, but I’ll take that as a yes! Now be a good boi and climb on it.” Lartse obediently threw itself onto the plump flesh and hugged it as best it could with its distorted limbs. This was more familiar. This was good. Lartse was going to please its master as best it could, even if it had to pay for it with its body and life.

Chris propped his foot on his knee, and wiped his puny slave off his finger between two toes. He brought his foot back to the floor without a look or a word at his pet, then yawned from his hard day of work. He really deserved a break after all this, so he turned on his computer and searched for a game to play. One run led to another, then to a third; meanwhile, Chris found himself itching for some proper foot worship. He could barely feel his tiny slave at work, and this wouldn’t do. With a disappointed sigh, he took his phone and sent a quick text.
Lartse was going through hell, and loved it. Under the immense weight of Chris Sir’s foot, soaked in warm sweat and idly toyed with, its body had completely given in and become nothing more than a ball of sentient flesh, a piece of chewed gum. Any attempt to reach an arm out and rub Chris Sir’s foot was made impossible by the sheer force of Chris Sir’s toes simply being at rest. All it could do was weakly, but eagerly, kiss the skin that whatever was left of its face was pressed into. It wasn’t thinking about its survival — it couldn’t think, with its mind being turned to mush by the intense pleasure and pressure: it only cared about worshipping. Every little movement from Chris Sir brought a wave of pain and pleasure that it didn’t know it had been craving, and it only hoped it could enjoy it and give back to its master forever.
Then, there was a knock at the door.

Chris perfectly heard the frantic knock at the door, but chose to ignore it until he had properly finished his game. He stretched his toned body, abs peeking from under his shirt, then rose to his feet. He could feel his tiny toy lodged right under his big toe as he stepped over the junk scattered on the floor on his way to the door. As soon as he opened it, a short figure hurried its way through the crack and swiftly hid behind the jock.
Lartse could barely see anything from its position, with Chris Sir’s mighty toe filling most of its vision, but it managed to recognize the man from his black tracksuit and fluffy hair tied into a ponytail. It was a student from the science course with a part-time job as a lab assistant to their chemistry professor. He usually seemed quite composed in the classroom; but here in Chris Sir’s flat, he was shaking in submission.

“Please, s-sir, you can’t leave me waiting outside like that!” he whimpered.
“Oh, I can’t?” Chris raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Say that again.”
“…I mean, I can’t risk getting caught sneaking in the hero dorms!”
“Then don’t wait outside and just go home if you’re so afraid of being seen here. You’re just another student, no big deal.”
“Y-Yeah, but also —”
Chris slammed the door close. “I don’t wanna hear it. I don’t wanna hear another word that isn’t praise and worship, or I’ll put a leash on you and walk you through the whole campus so that everyone sees you at your rightful place. Is that clear?”
The slave knew that Chris was teasing him with his deepest desires… but he also knew that his master would definitely follow through. “Y-Yes sir!”
“Good.” Chris relaxed and pointed at his desk. “Under there, face up. Lick my feet clean and don’t miss a spot. And keep silent.”
“Yes sir,” the slave whispered. He fetched his usual head cushion from under the bed, set it on the floor and lied down, his body fitting tight under his master’s chair. Chris returned to his desk and propped his tired feet on his slave’s face, who wasted no time worshipping them.

Lartse was still trying to register the fact that Chris Sir had enslaved their chemistry lab assistant. Sure, he was just another student, he wasn’t actually in a position of power and mostly just helped them handle sensitive products; but there was still something impressive, almost transgressive to it. To think that its master was so charismatic he could make anyone humiliatingly bend to his will! Chris Sir truly was a force not to be messed with. Lartse was all the more ecstatic to have been granted the privilege of serving Chris Sir, even though it was now incapable of following through its servitude. It could only hope that it made for a pleasant stress toy.
Then, everything went dark.

A chill of pleasure ran along Chris’ back when his slave wrapped his lips around his toes and took them deep into his mouth. There was quite nothing like the feeling of bathing his toes in a warm puddle of saliva with a tongue lovingly, diligently making its way around each digit, pressing and licking and teasing and jolting him awake and relaxing his tired muscles. This slave in particular was so good at his job that every session sent Chris into a trance, and this one was no exception; he was losing focus to the point he had to quit his game. He had to release all this bliss within him, but he didn’t quite feel like busting a nut, so he decided to knead his slave’s face with his feet instead. The slave only grew more excited in response and worked more frantically on his sole and toes. They both couldn’t keep silent anymore, starting to pant and moan softly, Chris gripping his desk and the slave grabbing at his master’s feet.

Inside the mouth, Lartse was in deadly peril. It had been dislodged from Chris Sir’s toe almost instantly by the hungry tongue, and the fact that it managed to keep afloat was nothing short of a miracle. Its luck didn’t last long, however: soon it was tumbling down the red carpet and into the entrance hall of hell. With no light reaching inside, Lartse couldn’t even take one last look at its master’s heavenly plump toes as it was pulled down the thirsty throat. It knew very well what was coming next, but it could never have prepared for the sizzling fire that engulfed its puny body and made quick work of it. Just like that, with one last burst of excruciating pain and one last thought of its worthlessness, it was gone from existence and from its master’s mind.

Though he was having much fun, Chris was getting tired. He pulled his foot out of his slave’s mouth and firmly rested it on his round face.
“Okay, that was nice. Good job.” He ruffled his slave’s hair with an expert foot, which got a moan of satisfaction out of him. “I’ll let you go back home now.” He rose out of his chair, squatted down and extended a hand. The slave gladly grabbed it and pulled himself out from under the desk with a pleased smile. He fixed his messy hair and wiped his face on his shirt, before turning to Chris and bowing low. “Thank you sir, the pleasure was all mine.”

“Oh,” Chris added, almost as an afterthought, as his slave was reaching for the door handle. “There’s one last thing I wanted to ask of you before you go.” He grabbed Lartse’s bag and searched inside for the notebook. He flipped through it until he found the page of instructions he was looking for, which he tore out and handed to his slave. “I need you to try and prepare a dose of this,” he explained. “Should look purple-ish if the notes are right. And keep it a secret. Got it?”
“Sure, sir.” The slave paused for a moment, then dared to ask: “What’s it for?”
“Oh, you’ll see…” There was an unusual glimmer of malice in Chris’ eyes. “Something really fun~”

The worse ending

Lartse was on the verge of a breakdown. Its results were pathetic, and Chris Sir looked displeased. Lartse felt like a fraud. It probably was, to be honest: first it failed the chemistry assignment so bad it shrunk down; now it couldn’t even pass a simple study quiz… It felt dumb and inadequate. It couldn’t even think properly: its mind was a fog, and trying to retrieve any piece of information was like playing a rigged claw machine. It felt worthless. It had done all this to impress Chris Sir, but it ended up just wasting his precious time. Lartse couldn’t take it anymore: it started to cry, its tiny tears joining the gob of spit it was still sitting in.

Chris was mildly annoyed. He had promised to take care of his mini-nerd, which would have been manageable in his busy life; but what he has here on his desk instead was a crying mess of a dumb bug. There wasn’t much he could do to help that thing if it didn’t toughen up a bit and show some resourcefulness. He gently petted it to try and comfort it, to no avail.
He figured he should have seen it coming. Who the fuck messes up chemistry so bad they turn the size — and intelligence, apparently — of an ant!? Of course Lartse was a dumbass. None of his other slaves had thrown themselves body and soul to him, none of them had this little self-esteem; Lartse was just too much into it. It was living in a fantasy world, expecting him to play along and cater to its needs and wants. Maybe this was all part of its plan. Maybe it wasn’t that dumb and had somehow shrunk on purpose. Chris couldn’t bring himself to even pity the poor thing: he simply wondered why he had even bothered entertaining it in the first place. The more he uselessly petted his whimpy slave, the more he grew irritated; with each stroke of its hair wet with spit, Chris’ touch was becoming less and less gentle, somewhat unwittingly and somewhat in the hope to shut it up.

But nothing could apparently calm down the tiny pet, and Chris was fed up. He grabbed Lartse by its leg and raised it to his face. The poor thing stopped crying, but it was now helplessly dangling upside-down and flailing pathetically.
“We need to talk, bug,” Chris announced with a stern voice.
Lartse choked in a snort. “A-About what, Chris Sir?”
“Why did you want me to be your lab partner? Did you really need me, or did you just want to drag me into your weird little game?”
Lartse was properly flabbergasted. What was its master talking about? “I… What—”
“Don’t give me that look. This can’t have been an accident. You were just desperate to get closer to me, to step into my life, and instead of asking nicely like everyone else, you had to devise this whole scheme to make sure I couldn’t refuse, and probably to indulge in some kink of yours. Like, I don’t judge, but consent, man.”
Lartse had no idea what to respond. There was an element of truth to it: Chris Sir was its idol, and it did really enjoy the fantasy of being shrunk at a giant’s mercy… But this had truly been an accident! It was delighted to have played out this fantasy in real life with Chris Sir for a bit, but the consequences of its predicament were starting to down on Lartse: its brain had shrunken down to the point of imbecility, and it was completely useless as a pet or slave. Lartse looked at Chris Sir with puppy eyes, unable to convey its confusion and despair otherwise.

Chris let out a bitter sigh. “I figured. Well, you’re not getting away with this. I suppose there’s no antidote or something to grow you back? Or should I hand you over to the police at this size, like the little stalker you are?”
Lartse was getting light-headed, but it managed to shout out its scared protest. “N-No, please Chris Sir! I b-beg you! Don’t—”
“So that means you’re leaving it to me to dispose of you, then.” Chris’ eyes were burning with ire, and his words were daggers to Lartse’s ears. “Fine. I revoke my protection.” With those words, he let go of the puny pet.

Lartse felt the warm glow of its master’s Invincible Touch leave its body as it was plummeting towards a now-certain death. Visceral pain flooded into its every nerve all at once like a lightning strike, blinding its vision and cutting off all its thoughts. The hard wood of the desk catching up with its body was the camel that broke the straw’s back, a crash so violent it numbed every other feeling into nothingness in comparison. Lartse could barely make out Chris Sir’s words booming over its ears throbbing.
“You wish you hadn’t given your life over to me.” Chris slammed his closed fist right on the frail figure below to wipe it out of existence. Just like that, it was done; no one would ever know, and no one would ever care. He could go back to his busy life unbothered now.
Except, when he raised his fist again, Lartse was stuck to it. Not as the bloody, broken carcass he expected, but as a mashed paste of flesh, letting out a faint whimper.

Chris couldn’t help but erupt into laughter. This was getting ridiculous. This couldn’t be real. How was the little shit still alive? What was even that? No, actually, he didn’t care. It couldn’t have looked more miserable: it was like he had picked up a piece of chewed gum straight from the pavement. And from this last thought, a devious plan formed in his mind.
“Look at you. Wait, no, your eyes are all messed up now. Can you even hear me?” He chuckled when Lartse’s whimper grew louder in response. “Good, ’cause I want you to know exactly what’s gonna happen. You know, I had to miss my boyfriend’s game tonight because of you. I was gonna just throw you into the trash, since you won’t even give me the satisfaction of dying, but I have a better idea. I’ll make sure you suffer and wish you had never crossed my path. I’ll sacrifice you to him in the most humiliating way, and you’ll wish you could scream. You’ll have plenty of time to reflect on what you did to me before you die, if you even have that privilege in your sorry state. You’re a stain on the muddy sole of society, so I have no choice but to bring justice and put you in your rightful place.” He scraped his pet-gum off his hand, rolled it into a ball, and dropped it in his pocket.

The stadium was close to the hero dorms, so Chris quickly got there. He didn’t even check if anyone would see what he was doing — he was a hero in training, no one would dare to cross him or his blasty boyfriend. He knew the game was almost over, though, which meant he only had a few minutes before the players would come back to the locker rooms. He hurried and soon found what he came for.
There on the floor, in all their manly glory, stood a pair of black and orange boots fresh from a hard day of hero training. Chris sat cross-legged before them and fished Lartse from his pocket. He took a boot, flipped it over to reveal the sole, and spread his pet-gum flat on the word MAD, deep into the treads. Proud of his work, he flipped the boot upright again and stomped it on the floor a couple times to make sure the piece of living gum would properly stick to the sole.

And, well, now that he was here… there’d be no harm in having a little fun, right? He glanced out the door to make sure no one was coming, then grabbed the other boot by the heel and brought it to his face, sticking his nose deep into the opening.
He could never get enough of the particular sweet scent that his boyfriend’s sweat carried. Wherever he went, his sugary body odor would permeate the area, with spikes of burnt caramel wafting through the air whenever he used his quirk; a hard day’s worth collected and baked into the insole of his boots was nothing short of a drug for Chris, a weakness that the blasty student was too happy to tease him with and, whenever the mood striked, to use for domination.

Chris had to stop sniffing his boyfriend’s boot for a moment to catch some actual air. He would often be so deeply enraptured by the smell that he’d get light-headed from the lack of oxygen; while this made for interesting sexy times, now was not the time to get caught passed out on the floor like a reckless freshman at their first frat party. He allowed himself a few more puffs of the lustful sweat, then planted a kiss on the toe of the boot before setting it back in its place and quietly making his way out.

And as Lartse suffered in silent agony, its body inhumanely stretched and strained, its mouth distorted and glued under the mighty boot gasping for the damp air of the locker room, its feeble mind nothing but anguish and torture, heavy stomps and rowdy cheers echoed closer and closer throughout the corridor…