Smells Like Shit The Remote of Transformation chapter 22 by deleted_user

Brandon stood there in his awkward stick-thin body, staring at the steaming, sentient pile of shit that used to be Linda. The smell was starting to hit the whole room now — warm, earthy, and deeply regrettable.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he muttered in his high-pitched whiny voice, gripping the remote with both bony hands. “I can fix this. I can fix this. Just… reverse it. Turn Linda back into her hot young self. Exactly how she was before the shit thing. Same stacked body, same blonde hair, same cranky personality. Fix it!”

He pointed the remote at the glistening brown mound and activated it.

The remote chirped. Blue light mixed with the brown for a nauseating moment.

The pile rippled violently, then began to reform with wet, squelching sounds that made everyone’s stomach turn. Chunks pulled back together, rising upward. Flesh tones slowly replaced the chocolate brown as limbs, torso, head, and curves took shape again.

Linda reappeared — early twenties, platinum blonde, massive perky DDs, tiny waist, wide hips, fat juicy ass — exactly as stacked and hot as before. The torn floral blouse and shredded jeans somehow reformed around her body too, though they still looked ragged.

She staggered once, then planted her hands on her hips and glared daggers at Brandon.

“You little shit — literally!” she barked in her familiar gravelly voice. “If you ever pull somethin’ like that again, I’ll shove that remote so far up your flat ass you’ll be clickin’ buttons with your tonsils!”

Vince was still wheezing with laughter on the couch. “That was beautiful. Ten out of ten. Would watch again.”

Brandon let out a relieved breath. “See? Fixed. You’re back to normal. Well… your version of normal.”

Linda opened her mouth to keep yelling — then paused.

A strange look crossed her face. She shifted her weight, and her fat ass cheeks clapped softly. Then she frowned deeper.

“Wait… somethin’ feels off.”

She reached down and squeezed one of her heavy tits. Instead of the firm, perky bounce she expected, it made a faint, wet squish sound. A tiny brown smear appeared on her palm.

“What the—?” She sniffed her hand and recoiled. “Why do I still smell like shit?!”

She turned sideways toward the mirror. Her skin looked mostly normal… but there was a subtle, glossy sheen to it, like it had a thin layer of something oily and brown-tinted. When she moved too quickly, her massive tits and ass jiggled with a slightly wetter, heavier motion than before. A very faint but unmistakable fecal odor clung to her — not overpowering, but definitely there, like she’d just come from a porta-potty and only halfway cleaned up.

Linda’s eyes widened in horror. “You didn’t fix me all the way, you idiot! I’m still… leaky! Every time I move these damn tits feel like they’re full of warm mud, and my ass keeps makin’ little squishy sounds. And I smell like I rolled in it! Not strong enough to clear a room, but enough that I know it’s me!”

She slapped her own ass in frustration. The clap sounded wetter than normal, and a tiny bit of brown residue transferred to her hand.

Vince howled even louder. “Side effects! She’s a shit-adjacent bombshell now! Still hot as hell, but with that extra… earthy aroma.”

Brandon winced, still in his rail-thin body. “I’m sorry! I was panicking! At least you’re not a pile anymore…”

Linda rounded on him, tits squishing wetly. “At least?! I went from landlord to literal turd to walking biohazard in one afternoon! You better figure out how to clean this up, sparkle boy, or the next time I get that remote I’m turnin’ you into a sentient used condom!”