Life Changes (Chapter 14) (Patreon)

            I was still so traumatized after my fiancé’s treatment of me earlier, I couldn’t quite believe this claim from Kayla, if only because it hurt too much think that my love could torment me even more vigorously than her big sister who was obviously so ready to undo me. Nodding solemnly, I tried not to quake.

            “I thought about stuffing you in my gym shoes and putting those back in the box. Or maybe just turning you into my shoes. But, it just felt pointless not to have you close by for your first night as our slave, the first of many. So you’re going in here,” Kayla explained. She reached behind her back, producing a black gym sock and waving it overhead like a flag. Her grin made her look like a kid in a candy store.

            Even from a slight distance below Kayla’s cottony pride and joy, I could see the semi-damp sheen on the dark fabric, and most of all, smell the oily wafting odor practically leaking out in liquid form. Of course I knew that vile perfume all too well, after spending the last who-knows-how-long with my body crammed at the sweaty epicenters of the source. It was an unpleasant prospect to imagine being dropped into Kayla’s used socks for the night, but at least nowhere near as bad as what I’d just been through between her toes-pits and sole-rivers. Until I remembered she said she wanted to keep me close, and then I understood. She wasn’t just leaving her socks out to dry overnight with me inside.

            My stomach sank for the umpteenth time today. I wondered if the large amount of her foot grease and toejam I’d already imbibed was about to come back to the surface.

            “D-Do you… um, have t-to…” I stuttered, resentful of how meek I sounded in front of her, knowing Kayla loved every pathetic ounce of my indignity. I also already knew the answer to my question, but for the sake of my mounting panic, had to do it anyway. “…have to d-do that? I… I did everything you just asked before.”

            “Hmm… that’s a GOOD question, fake-David. You’re right that you did do everything I asked just now, or at least didn’t complain too much while I used you for your intended purpose. Let’s face it, you can’t really do anything helpful when you’re smaller than a roach. And in answer to your question, no, I don’t have to do this,” Kayla pontificated, her thoughtful expression suddenly hardening into a dastardly mug. Her fingers plucked open the dark mouth of the black sock, showing me the long wet tunnel to the toe section. “But I’m still going to do it anyway.”

            The giantess gave her brunette ponytail a haughty toss over one shoulder, smarmed at me to milk the moment just a little longer, then held the sock against the carpet, prying the cushy hole open for my embarking. At five inches tall, I’d have to get on my hands and knees to crawl inside, ironically an extra abuse I wouldn’t have had to worry about at thumbnail-size. Almost like she was making me bow while willingly putting myself into such a dangerous and humiliating position. I now had to guess that she hadn’t regrown me just to be nice.

            “Don’t just stand there looking stupid and small,” she mocked. Her fingertip roughly rapped me on the skull. “Get into your new bedroom.”

            There was no room for error here, and my heart just couldn’t take seeing Ashley this soon again if I disobeyed and got Kayla mad. I dropped to my haunches and ambled like a dog into the sock. As I predicted, I instantly felt the squelch of soggy fabric under my knees and hands as I ventured deeper into the cotton cave. Everything quickly turned to shadow and musk; the thick absorbent walls of the gym sock ensured the dense spicy essence of Kayla’s sweat-glazed foot was preserved there, almost mummified, within the sock a whole hour at least after she’d peeled it off her sole. Upon crawling several inches deep, I realized she’d let the mouth of the sock close, leaving me in darkness. I didn’t know which way to go now, and paused to cough and cringe as everything I touched or inhaled was sour and boggy.

            Unfortunately, there was no need to worry about finding my way, because Kayla did the rest for me. I felt the floor under the sock dropping away as the giantess picked her sock up off the floor and let it dangle from her fingers, causing the black tunnel to straighten vertically. Frantic, I reached all around for a tuft of sock fiber to grab onto and save myself the sharp drop below into blackness, but everything my fingers grazed was slippery with foot-grease. Thus I tumbled through the long throat of her sock, scraping my face and tangled limbs along the slick inner walls all the way, until I bounced in a crumpled ball into the toe section.

            “Don’t get too comfy with all that space all by yourself,” Kayla said. I couldn’t see her through the sock, but the light shifted through the threads an inch from where my face came to rest in the soppy material. Assuredly, she was flashing an up-close toothy grin at my misfortunes, even if I was too blinded by the soiled footwear to appreciate it. “Make sure you get out of the way. Your roommate is coming.”

            Knotted upside-down in the narrow point of her sock, I wasn’t exactly sure how it was possible for me to “get out of the way,” with already almost no room to operate in solitude. Kayla didn’t seem to care, though, just as she had throughout the rest of this damnable day. Above, I could see the opening widening again, giving me a thin portal view to something other than shiny sweaty cotton. For an instant I could see the bedroom ceiling, then a flash of Kayla’s delighted smirk, and finally something even worse. The very same naked foot that had spent so much of today battering and shaping me into her ideal slave, now slightly larger but no less formidable in these tight quarters, hovered at the sock mouth before sliding in.

            Most of the light blotted out then, but it was impossible to miss the terrifying golden-bronze shape of Kayla’s hulking yet expertly pointed ped shooting through the tunnel like a runaway subway car toward me. The latent aroma was redoubled when the creator of that raunchy stink and accompanying oozing substances now corked the top of the sock and started to close the distance. I could still see her foot clearly via the pinholes of light that squeezed through the dark fibers of my prison, and within seconds, it overtook me again. No amount of bracing could prepare me for the sharp impact. First I was bulldozed in the stomach by the line of her toes, which raked themselves up from my waist to my chin, seemingly intentionally flicking me upside the head, before coming to rest above. Her sole now fitted itself smoothly into me, the ruddy humid flesh easily molding over my fetal form so that I was bent to become her arch support underfoot.