An Odd Dream
I said I never would, but I've written another one. Sorry for the repeated gag but, hey. ;3
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Another weekend had blazed past, and it was time for Jackson to call it a night. "Back to the grind tomorrow," the husky sighed, clambering out of his boxers en route to bed. He flopped and landed on the sheets with something of a jiggle, his stocky build showing some padding as of late. There was a ruffle of paws through his short-trimmed headfur, and then just the quiet of the room.
Not even a minute passed, and Jackson was out cold.
"Nine o-clock meeting, nine o-clock meeting... Fuck!"
Jackson heaved the mesh gate open to the construction site, hearing it clonk shut behind him as he made a break for the staff room. There was bitter cursing under the husky's breath, the heaving of his chest, and the plap-plap of his bare soles on the dusty ground.
Hold it. Bare footpaws? He blinked and stopped in his tracks, looking down his front. Not only had he forgotten his steel-capped boots, and his reflective vest... Everything was missing! He was naked, at work! And to top it all off, his boss would be out soon wondering where the hell the husky was.
"Don't freak out, damnit," Jackson grunted. He gulped. Where could he hide out? His eyes darted around: the staff building was just up ahead, bare minus the mandatory safety-wear signs. No bin, no skip, no toilet...
The dog's eyes widened as he spotted something bright orange just down the side of the hut: a portable cement mixer.
"A mixer; really?" He approached the far side of the staff hut briskly, hiding himself from the windows. "What a stupid idea, how am I going to fit..."
A click of a latch opening behind him meant there was no time to deliberate. With ears perked high, the dog stuffed his arms into the barrel in a panic, hips squirming as he coiled inside the stuffy, wet enclosure.
"I can't believe I'm d-doing this..."
There was a clack of the staff room door closing, and the familiar voice of his two co-workers. They were coming closer.
"... really expect us to do contract work? For the council?" There was a thump as a paw grabbed the cement mixer's handle, Jackson holding his breath. "I mean, it's just a pot-hole, but christ, we have things to do here!"
The rest of the pair's banter was drowned by the sudden loud rumbling of the mixer's wheels - he was being dragged away, off the site.
There were a few minutes of this, before the mixer was brought to a halt. Jackson was too scared to even raise his ears, afraid he'd be found out.
"So where do you think Jax is, huh?" The husky's face ran cold. "Oh, probably slackin' off with his boyfriend." There was a laugh. "Yeah, that faggot--"
Jackson had to hold back a yelp as something threw him to the side, pinning him there. The mixer had been turned on, and it was pressing him to the damp walls of the barrel like a centrifuge. The deafening noise of the motor had come with it, the dog becoming sickeningly dizzy and disoriented. He tried keeping himself firm by pressing his thick paws to the sides - but the goopy cement left-overs made it hard to keep a grip.
Finally, the madness stopped. Jackson's head spun, physically rolling on his burly shoulders as he tried to come to. He could hear footsteps again...
All at once, his dizzied body was lurched forward into the light, the mixer tipping over. The husky's mind raced: he was going to be found! His paws frantically gripped at the sides to keep his body stuck inside, but he lost all friction against the barrel. He actually felt his belly roll out from under him, followed by his chest, and the most bizarre sensation of being pulled, stretched outside into open air. Jackson let out a muffled groan as he slid, his body piling on itself.
The sensation of meeting the ground came with a surprisingly loud squelch. He tried to sit up, to no avail; all he could do is blink up at the pale morning sky, seeing one of his co-workers walking away in his reflective garb.
"Come on, let's get this done so we can get back," one of them hollered. The husky grunted and kept up his struggles. Why was his body suddenly paralysed like this? Surely they had seen him.
Jackson's head slowly rolled back, looking upside-down along the ground. He felt a deep rumble in his back, an odd sensation of his body being somewhat wider than usual... Wait, where were his arms? His tail? He could barely feel them, only a heavy, round feeling of his body on the cracked road.
It suddenly hit him - he had been mushed into cement. Living, husky 'cement'.
He briefly considered what happens when you blend the grey and white of his fur, and dump it out on the road in front of... Shit. It was a steamroller, and a massive road-paving one at that, his co-workers perched on top. They were oblivious, the front wheel heaving forward, the rumbling becoming immense.
Jackson could do nothing but stare, the dirty metal wheel filling up his vision as it crawled towards the uniform lump that was his body. There was a final breeze, and then the husky was pinned beneath it.
Bam! The wheel hit him like a hot iron, the heat overwhelming as it spread across his whole body. Then the other feeling hit him, the sheer weight of it all, feeling his body plastered flush against the ground and the passing wheel. He could barely feel his body, grunting as it piled up before the wheel and then was spread so viciously.
And then it came again, just as heavy, but to less effect. He could feel his face stretch extra inches in all directions, as blazing sunlight filled his vision once more.
In a few seconds, it was all over. Jackson's thoughts started to come together again: he had just been paved over the road, naked, by his co-workers - and he was still alive? He tried to grunt as feeling came back to his body, finally feeling how he was laid out. Belly up, he guessed, but it's not like it mattered: he felt like a trodden piece of gum, or a ball of batter flattened into a pancake. It shocked him how none of this seemed to hurt.
He felt a dripping at his 'feet' - it was the coolant! The hefty steamroller came cruising over a second time, Jackson having a little more cohesion this time to observe it; hell, even enjoy it. The pressured wave rippled along his back, dipping his view into darkness once more as he relaxed-relaxed!-at the hot, pressured sensation. He got a final glimpse of the front wheel, water dripping over its smooth surface.
And, once again, it was gone. He could feel the steam rising from his damp, smooth hide - he must be smooth as rubber from all that treatment, surely. It didn't seem to matter about getting up at the moment though. He would probably be stuck there for a while...
The phone was ringing, loudly. Jackson's eyes darted awake, his lids heavy as he swung himself upright. He grabbed his cell phone and pressed it to his ear.
"Jax, we have a nine o-clock meeting today and you're not here! Where are you man?" It was work. The husky mumbled into the handset.
"I'll b-rightf there," he managed, reaching to wipe his muzzle. Drool? He couldn't help but grin.