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Mason’s Gas Station

- includes: facesitting, farting, human chair/furniture, ass eating, light scat, public nudity

Word count: 2.4k

It was a cold Saturday night, i needed a quick stop at the gas station on the way home from work. I just got fired, and my self esteem wasn’t so hot.

DING

The sound of the door to the gas station rings as i step in, and it was pretty much empty, i could only hear about 2 or 3 other people in the building. Shelves of chips, chocolate, drinks, magazines, it was a small store yes, but what more could you get from a gas station.

I miserably chuck a bag of hot cheetos onto the counter, wiping the day i’ve had off my face.

“Hiya how you doing is that everything yeah?”

the cashier says, taking the chip bag into his hands and swiftly scanning it across the counter, he mashes some buttons on the screen. I barely even heard what he said, in my own head for a while.

“Hm? oh- yeah that’s it,” i say, reaching into my back pocket for my wallet. But what he says next actually lifts my head.

“Hot cheetos always makes me fart a whole lot, why i don’t ever eat ‘em you know,” he grins to himself, clicking a few more buttons on the screen.

Wow, i’m surprised he was being so straight up, and i feel my face turn red with butterflies. However, the only face i can make is an undefeated smile. I can see his mood change to concerned immediately. He was handsome, very handsome, fluffy dark brown hair, a broad and smooth jaw, and pretty pink lips, he was cute. Of course i have to look at his name tag: Mason. Hot name. “What’s got you so miserable?” he rests his hands onto the counter, ready to listen.

“ Nothing i ugh, just got fired..” i fiddle with my wallet.

“Ah, shame, sorry to hear that. I’d hate to be fired,” i felt slightly comforted, sliding a £5 note across the counter.

“Thanks man, just trying to get over it, super stressed..” I sigh, taking the bag of chips in my hand.

“Hey, come closer,” he says, waving his hands towards himself, looking around carefully at the other few customers, he whispers carefully as i lean in. “I think i know a great way to reduce your stress…” he smirks, chuckling to himself again. I was clueless, i shook my head, leaning my ear in closer.

“Just take a look at this chair behind me, got this whole right in the middle, perhaps you could take a little break being smothered by my butt, like some sort of massage, sound good?” he reaches behind his back, smoothing out his polo-shirt uniform from the back, his pants looking particularly tight. I was speechless to say the least, i felt my ears grow all hot, and i stutter.

“I- What, what do you mean? Are you so sure? Seriously?” I itch the back of my head, nervous about what other people would be seeing.

“Yup, i’m serious, can i de-stress you with a face-sit massage? Or would you prefer to just leave?” He throws his hands to his side, pulling a face, telling me it’s completely up to me.

He wasn’t wrong, that did sound nice, a guys butt pressed against my face, maybe i could take a quick nap even.

“Ugh.. you know what… sure.. i guess that would sound quite nice.. i’d love to, Mason,”

I talk as quietly as i can, desperately not wanting other people in the gas station to hear us. His face lights up, and he opens the cash register, handing me my change. “Amazing! I’d be honoured to, here’s your change,” he looks around one more time, walking over to the camera in the top corner, shifting it far to the left. He shuffles back, whispering, “just walk around the counter and crouch when you get here, you do what i say got it?”

I not without being told twice, taking a glance back to an empty isle and tip-toeing around the counter, heaving open the small door, he looks at me the whole time. I crouch to the floor, and sneak up to him, he was trying to make it look less obvious i was here. He was already slipping off his pants, his thick bubble but hidden from everyone else’s view, was he really ready to do this whilst at work?

As i get closer i get a good look at the chair, it was a simple stool, the seat coming up to my head, a large whole in the middle couldn’t be missed, but dangling from the underside on the rim of the hole, was a fairly long strap that ended with a clip. I hear the jingling of his belt and his trousers suddenly drop by his ankles with a thud. When i look up Mason is kissing his teeth at me, waiting patiently.

“Hey don’t take too long, i got customers comin’! Just wriggle through that hole from underneath and i’ll tie you up in a minute, now shush, can’t be talking to ya right now,” He tries to keep his eyes on the shop, only the corner of his mouth moving when he speaks. I don’t take any longer and grip either side of the chair, pulling myself through the middle front and grazing through the large hole in the chair. Mason’s ass looked even bigger from this view. Pale, thicc, hairless, and a soft pink hole, it had so much character.

I shove my head through the plastic hole, and it takes some neck strength to keep myself in place. I give his ankle a small kick to signal him i was ready, and Mason takes his eyes off the shelves and quickly bends down to reach underneath the stool. Wrestling with the strap i saw earlier and i feel it snake around the back of my head and a “CLICK” noise is made on the other side, i could finally rest my head back and get comfortable. Mason gives a quick whisper, “We good with this? Once i’m sat i wont be up till my shift is done, so that’s 2 hours, i might give ya’ some air if it gets quiet enough, but other than that, this ok?” He talks pretty reassuringly, deep down he was a sweet guy, but his ass seemed to talk more than he did.

I couldn’t shake or move my head, so i risk a small whisper, “Yeah..”

Mason grins, standing up, readying both his feet on either side of the chair, his ass already opening at this position. He grips the back of his uniform and pulls it up a little bit, before leaning back and descending his fat mounds of meat onto my face. His ass melts over my face, burying my head into the back of the strap, he was heavy. His skin smudges under my eyelids, a condensed amount of fat demolishing my head. Luckily, i could still see, barely, with my nose pressed deep into his wrinkly hole, i gaze up at his mountain of a back, it looked so large from this angle. The top of his head peeped over his shoulders, all i could see was a few thin strands of his hair, but it was enough. He only gives me a small look back, winking deviously, before turning to the store, ignoring his brand new stool.

“Hello mam, is this all i can get you today?” A customer appeared at the counter, a small child stood next to her.

“Yes sir that’s everything, here’s £12,”

“Alright…” I hear the cash register open and close from above, “Here, £1.20 change for you, have a good evening, bye! bye,”.

There’s a few second silence, and then Mason turns around, ruffling my hair up.

“Didn’t even suspect a thing!” He sure seemed happy about this, and so was i, boy Mason was right. I felt relaxed, this was like a face massage, and yes, his ass was pretty funky, but what else could you expect from a man’s ass. I drown out the sound of Mason speaking to more customers and enjoy the moment, i might aswell be in heaven. To my surprise, Mason begins to shuffle ontop of me, squishing my face left to right, my nostrils pressed back and opened up like a pig against his hole.

A quiet, warm shot of air releases up my nose. And Mason grows comfortable again, smothering me back into the seat, the walls of his cheeks now moist. It felt like i just ate wasabi, my sinuses cleared up and i felt light headed, my muscles relax and the scent of ham intoxicates my nose. Wow he was good.

My nose felt sucked into his hole, Masons ass clenched, almost plugging my nose. After a few minutes, rustling sounds can be heard from above, followed by crunching and chewing. My eyes dart around, trying to figure out what was going on, and he brings his arms down and shakes a bag of opened hot cheetos shove my face. I was mad at first but i grew fearful, remembering what he said about what they did to him.

“Heh! Don’t worry i’ll be sure to save you some,” he giggles, licking his fingers and pushing his butt down onto my face once more, grinning.

BFFTTT.

A strong, cheesy fart explodes over my face, tasting spicy over my tongue, and i slowly shake my head as much as i can, not being able to sense any fresh air. All Mason does is laughs evilly and wiggles his hips, getting back to work, nuzzling my nose in deeper.

Over maybe the next hour, about 20-30 customers pass by, some took longer than others, however all of them came and went without thinking the person they were buying snacks from was smothering somebody under the counter, a full de-stress massage, for one of them anyway, i was beginning to struggle. The past hour had been filled with farts, farts, and more farts. Mason wasnt wrong about the cheetos.

He throws me a look, then stands up, fresh air wafting over me. He yanks up his pants, shuffling them back on.

“Ok man, the stores quiet, i gotta take a dump, enjoy your 3 minutes of air,” he chuckles, and his footsteps fade away into the back of the gas station.

I take these few minutes to wonder what time it is, or how much air i have left. And i even panic thinking about if someone came into the stair and saw me like this. I would die on the spot.

Footsteps grow louder, and Mason returns with a stretch and a yawn. He takes a look at the empty store again and fiddles with his belt, dropping his pants to the floor, he sneaks around me, stepping his feet on the rest of the chair legs. I notice brown smudges around the rim of his hole, and a sweaty trail from the top to bottom of his crack.

“Guess who didn’t wipe?” He giggles, finding himself hilarious. “Clean it, and i’ll give you 5 minutes of air in the next half hour,”

I don’t have time to negotiate before he plummets his fat ass back down onto my face with a loud smack noise. He shuffles his butt further forward, dragging his filth across my face, until my disgusted lips meet his hole. And i obediently lick, snogging at his fart hole, cleaning the dirty residue on the rim, lapping up a trail of sweat from his entire crack. Mason gives a satisfied sigh, slumping back onto my tongue, and gets back to work, and by “work” i mean going on his phone.

A few minutes of licking later i think i’m done, his back end just a canvas for my hungry, greedy tongue. I close my mouth, and Mason glances back. “Nice work, seat” he mutters. He lifts up, stretching his knees out to come out more, and he plops his ass back down on my face, this time my nose slodging deep into his butt, my saliva acting as a lubricant. A squelch noise is made when my nose wiggles into his ass.

The next hour was a complete blur. I got that 5 minutes of air, but a customer came and it was cut short by 2 minutes. I think all those hot cheeto farts went to my brain, because before i knew it, his shift was done! It was 10PM already. Mason climbed off me, putting his pants back on. “Looks like we’re done here seat, glad to help you de-stress” he says, crouching down to unclip the stool strap under my head, and i finally slip out the chair.

I stretch like crazy, my knuckles cracking easily, and i rub my eyes.

“Hopefully i didn’t give you pink eye or somethin’!” Mason laughs, tucking in his stool and reaching up for the camera in the top corner, moving it back to normal.

“No, no.. just tired… thanks so much for that man, i really needed that,” i yawn, walking over the counter, meeting him back across the counter.

“No worries, and hey listen, before you go i’ve been thinking, you just got fired right?” he leads on, grabbing the half empty hot cheeto packet and folding it up. I nod my head, remembering the reason i came here.

“Well, how would you like to work for me? As my seat? Everyday you’d come in with me and you would be my seat for the day, and i’d be paying you, how does £12 and hour sound?” he grins, tilting his head, knowing he’s already got me.

“Holy shit really? That would be amazing, i’d love to work for you, uh.. Mason!” i grin, nodding my head.

“Amazing, see you here at 9AM tommorow morning, don’t be late, or else,” he raises an eyebrow, a playful yet stern tone taking over him, he hands me the bag of chips, and i leave the gas station and return to my car.

———

On the drive home, i reflect on the evening i had. The day was going horrible, but Mason changed my night! And possibly my life even. I take the half eaten cheetos and wrestle it open with one hand, and i expected to feel chips first. But i pull out the receipt, covered in flavour dust. At the bottom, written in marker pen, said:

“82055 68120, call me cutie, ;) xx

picture source and story requested by: Instagram account @madnikemaster

Daniel had his Instagram account for almost five years and had quite a lager following. There would be so many comments under several of the pictures he had posted on his account. Many of them loved his post and some wanted to come worship his feet. He rather loved the attention that his account got him from so many people.

He kept noticing this one follower sending direct messages to come worship his feet in person. Daniel normally ignored those requests, but this one guy was persistent. He would message every week about being serious about worshipping his feet in person. To see if the guy was legit, he told him to prove it. He messages the guy to send him $50 and he would let him worship his feet in person. Not even five hours later, Daniel had $50 deposited in his cashapp. After seeing how desperate the guy was to be his foot worshipper, he sent him his address and when he would be available. The arrangements were made for the guy to come.

Tom was excited that Daniel was letting him come in person to worship his feet. Since it was on a weekend, he didn't have to schedule to be off from work. He would leave out on Friday evening after work and fly back on Sunday morning. He would be back home in time for work on Monday. It was a simple enough plan. Daniel offered to keep him at his house instead of a hotel since the purpose of the trip was to be his foot worshipping slave for the weekend, which worked out perfect for him.

Tom was excited when he was picked up at the airport by Daniel. He finally was getting the opportunity to worship his feet, especially since following his Instagram account for the past nine months.

Once back at his house, Daniel walked Tom in and shut his front door. "Now you will be staying with me till I take you back to the airport. For now, you do whatever I say, got it?" He spoke to an eager Tom. "Yes Sir," he responded back. He grabbed the collar and leash he had left on the table by the entryway. He put the collar around Tom's neck and used a pad lock to lock it on. He took the leash and attached it to the padlock on the collar. "On your hands and knees like a good dog." He commanded. he watched as Tom obeyed him. "Follow, boy." He added next as Tom crawled on his hands and knees beside him.

Daniel led him to his den and sat down on the couch. "First, kiss and lick my shoes while I play a game for the next hour or so." He spoke as he set up the game system. After a couple of minutes of gaming, he looked down to see Tom continuing to lick and kiss his shoes. Ten minutes later, he wanted Tom to do more. "Now take them off and sniff my socks.' He commanded next. He saw Tom obediently untie and remove his shoes. He began to sniff his rank socks that he was wearing. Daniel thought it was humorous since the sock he was sniffing were on his feet for the past three days. "Smell good, boy?" He asked his foot sub. Tom looked up at him, "Yes, Sir." And went back to sniffing them.

After an hour on the game, Daniel needed to do something on his computer in his room. "Follow, boy." He spoke as he led Tom to his room on the leash. "Get under there. I need a footrest while I look up some things." He spoke, pointing at under the desk.

Tom got under Daniel's desk. He saw him pull his chair forward and rest his feet on top of him without a single thought. HIs foot then slowly went to his face, forcing him to sniff his feet even more. From the way, Daniel was rubbing his feet on his face, he could tell Daniel was enjoying his foot sub under his feet.

Daniel smiled as he knew he was making Tom inhale the stench of his foul socks all over again. It was fun to have a foot sub completely under his control. As he was looking up things on the internet, he saw a pair of shoes he wanted to have, but he didn't want to pay for it. He wanted his foot sub to pay the price. "Hey bitch, I want these cool sneakers. They cost $350. Let me have you card so that I can pay for it." He ordered, waiting for Tom to hand over the bank card.

Tom had a feeling that Daniel might make a request like this. So, he intentionally left his bank card and credit cards at home. He only brought with hm a cash card and it was less than $300 on it. He explained this to Daniel, hoping that would be the end of that conversation.

Daniel realized that Tom intentionally left the credit cards and bank card at home and came to him with minim funds. He thought that was not good of a foot sub to do. But there was a solution to get the shoes he wanted and not pay a single dime for them. "Stay there." He commanded. He went to his closet and pulled out the TF ray device. Came back to his computer and scan the sneaker specs into the device. He pushed his chair back from his desk and pointed the device at Tom under his desk. "Since you can't pay for my new shoes, I found another solution. It's kind of permanent, but I don't mind doing it." He spoke as he fired a beam from the device at Tom.

Tom didn't know what he meant exactly as permanent, but he soon knew why. His skin started to become like leather while he was shrinking in size. Colors of black, white and red began to appear on his body. His hands started to shape into shoestrings. It was then, he knew exactly what he meant by permanent. He was being turned into the very shoes Daniel wanted him to buy for him with his money. Before he could scream out for help, his mouth was sealed shut as he continued to take shape.

Daniel watched as the last of Tom was reduced to a new pair of Nike Sneakers. He then erased the reverse form data in the device so that there was no way to change him back. Tom was his sneakers now. He picked them up off the floor. "You see, i erased the information to return you back to normal. So, even if I had changed my mind, I can't make you normal again. You are permanently my new sneakers. Let's see how you feel on my feet."

Tom was frantic over his new existence. This was not part of the plan. He was to just be a foot sub from Friday to Sunday and return back home. Being Daniel's sneakers were exactly what he was planning on. He saw his feet enter the shoes and get secured on his feet. He felt his shoestring arms used to tie him to Daniel's feet. The foul stench socks pressed down on his insole face with tremendous pressure as Daniel stood up and began to walk around.

After much pleading, Steve agreed to let him go hunting with him. Bryan was glad to get to hang out with his buddy again. As Steve pulled up to an area and turned the truck off, he looked at Bryan. "I have a confession. There is a reason why I agreed to bring you hunting with me." Steve paused as he pulled out a strange device form under the seat. "I needed some hunting boots." He added.

Bryan was confused as to him going hunting had to do with getting new hunting boots. "Where are you new hunting boot?" He asked him as he looked around the cabin for them. He saw Steve smiling back at him.

"Right in front of me." Steve spoke as he fired the device at Bryan. A ray of light struck his gay friend. He watched as he quickly shrunk in size and reformed into a pair of boots for his size 11 feet.

Bryan found himself unable to move or speak. HIs field of view was limited with not much light. He found himself split in half. He then saw what was truly his fate. A black socked foot entered his new form and pressed down on his face. He was forced to experience it once more as the other boot was put on Steve' feet. The black socks smelled like they weren't washed in days. They reeked of rotten chees and eggs. He tried to get away from the foul stench but not had the ability. His friend had only brought him along just to turn him into footwear to wear for his hunting trip and nothing more.

Steve found his new hunting boots comfortable. His previous pair had worn out. He had that pair for the past five years. His previous hunting boots were special, too. They were once an annoying neighbor who constantly was throwing trash on his side of the fence. He was a good pair of boots for the past five years. It was time for a new pair of boots, and his old buddy was just the one he needed.

"I hope you last longer than the previous guy." Steve laughed as he got out of his truck and sat at the end. Drinking a bottlen of water before getting ready to go to his favorite hunting spot. So far, the boots were even comfortable to walk in.

Steve then remembered the durability spray he had recently bought. He had it in the bag he brought with him. He sprayed his new boots from the soles on up. "Now you should last for a long time, at least twenty years or more." He laughed as he gathered up his gear to head to his hunting spot.

Theo had received a notice that a troublesome employee had been transferred to his department. No other department wanted him. He was being sent so that this employee could be corrected in his behavior and attitude. The upper management knew he had a record of keeping a tight department. It was their hopes he could help this troublesome employee.

Theo heard a knock on his office door. He saw the time and realized his appointment to meet the troublesome employee was arrived. "Enter." He spoke. He received the shock of his life when the guy walked in.

Max walked in to see someone he hadn't seen since mididle school days. It was the nerd he used to bully. He would reconigze that face even though it had been ages since he last saw him. "The nerd Theo?" He asked, wanting to confirm.

Theo remembered Max as the jock who bullied him in middle school. He was smaller than him and never stood up to him, not one time. When he had switched schools prior to high school, he was so glad to leave his middle school bully behind. He never thought he would see the day that their paths would cross again.

"It's Mr. Theo Frax to you, now. We aren't in middle school anymore." Theo paused. "That was a long time ago. They sent you to me to correct your attitude and job performance. As your new supervisor, I am expecting a change in you." He added. This was not going to be like middle school. He was now Max superviosr. He would not be bullied like he was in those days.

Max laughed at Theo. The nerd had become his supervisor. "Seriously, out of all the people they put over me, it's you? I think I will love working in this department. I really can get my way now and no one to report me." He smirked back at Theo.

"If you don't act right, I will recommend they termiinate your employment. I am in charge of this department. If you can't follow company rule here, then I will have no other choice." Theo spoke back, not letting himself get intimidated by Max muscular frame and dominate attitude.

"I don't think you want to do that." Max paused. "I highly recommend that you don't." He added, still smirking on his face.

Theo was determined he would not give in to his middle school bully in his adult life. "I really think you really aren't in a position to negoiate terms here, Max." He held a confident look on his face to show him that he wasn't intimidated.

Max pulled out his phone and opened up his TF Pro Max App. He had used it on so many others in the past. Some are his shoes, underwear, and socks. There were a couple that ended up as his snack, which were very tasty, in fact. "Are you sure those are your final words?" He asked him as he put in the setting in the app. He knew exactly what Theo would be.

Theo crossed his arms and looked defiantly into Max's face. "From what I have been told, this is your final chance. If I see that you aren't working out, they will go with my recommendation." He paused. "So you see, you have no room to negotiate with." He gave him a strong, confident look.

Max had his answer. He pointed his phone camera at Theo and hit flash. He got up and went around his desk. in the chair was a roll of toilet paper. He picked it up. "I think I will quit as of right now, but I am taking a consolation prize back home with me. One nerd to use to whip my ass with. At least till you run completely out." He laughed as he grabbed the toilet paper and left his office.

Theo was flabergasted. He didn't know how it happened, but it did. He was now literally toilet paper in Max's hand. He couldn't scream for help, nor could he physically flee from Max. He was powerless and helpless. He was at the mercy of Maxk, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Max got back home and went to the master bathroom. He took off the old roll of toilet paper and put on the new roll. "This is your new home. You will live in my bathroom until you are completely used up and flushed down my toilet." He laughed as he pulled down his pants and underwear and sat done on the toilet. "No time like the present to get you used to your new life." He laughed again.

Theo wanted to run away so badly. He knew exactly what his life intels. His purpose now was to wipe his former bully's ass for the rest of his limited existence. He heard the fart coming out of Max's ass and the plop sound of fecal matter dropping in the toilet. He feared the next part. He felt Max reach over and tear off piecies of him. He could still feel those pieces of toilet paper in Max's hand.

Theo mentally cried as pieces of himself were used to clean Max's butt. He could smell and taste the foul odor and fecal matter left on his butt. It was horrible. If he had a physical mouth, he would be gagging for life. More of himself was pulled off and used again to whip Max's butt. He felt parts of himself being flushed down the toilet without the slightest care. He continues to mentally weep for his new life and existence. Sadly, no one knew what Max had done to him. No one would be coming to his rescue.

Day after day, Reece aired his grievances. "Kurt, man, those sneakers are biohazards. You need new ones, like, yesterday," he'd say, pinching his nose in dramatic fashion.

But Kurt just shrugged, his response always some variation of, "They're broken in. I like 'em."

Weeks passed, and Reece's complaints grew more desperate. He tried everything from leaving subtle hints to outright begging, but to no avail. Kurt's sneakers remained a staple in their shared space, their smell intensifying with each passing day.

One evening, as Reece was once again lamenting the state of their room, Kurt's patience snapped. With a mischievous grin, he pulled out his phone and tapped on an app no one had ever seen before – the "TF App," which stood for "Transformation."

"You want to shut up about my sneakers?" Kurt asked, his eyes glinting with an odd light. Before Reece could respond, Kurt pressed the screen.

In a flash of light, Reece felt an odd sensation, like every part of him was being flattened and reshaped. When he came to, he was no longer human but had become a pair of insoles. Not just any insoles, but ones designed to fit perfectly inside Kurt's repulsive sneakers.

Kurt, with a chuckle, pulled out the old, worn-out insoles and replaced them with Reece. The horror for Reece was immediate and overwhelming. As Kurt shoved his bare, sweat-drenched feet into the sneakers, the experience was magnified for Reece. His senses were heightened; every odor was amplified, every touch was a nightmare.

Kurt's feet were the epitome of nastiness. They were unwashed for days, covered in a thick layer of sweat and grime, with nails that hadn't seen a clipper in ages. The smell was like a physical entity, invading what would have been Reece's nose if he had one. And the taste, oh, the taste was worse – salty, bitter, with a hint of whatever Kurt had stepped in that day.

Reece would have screamed if he could, but all he could do was absorb the horror of his new existence. Each step Kurt took was a crushing blow, each second an eternity of suffering. The irony was cruel; Reece, who hated feet more than anything, was now intimately acquainted with the very thing he despised.

As days turned into weeks, Kurt's feet only grew more vile, and Reece's torment seemed without end. But in this bizarre twist of fate, perhaps Reece would finally learn to keep his complaints to himself – or at least, that was what Kurt hoped as he laced up his sneakers, ready for another day of college life, with his former roommate underfoot.

As time wore on, the melding of Reece into Kurt's sneakers became complete. The insoles, a source of pure horror for Reece, now conformed so perfectly to Kurt's feet that they seemed like they were part of him. But for Reece, this melding was a never-ending nightmare.

With each step Kurt took, the terror in Reece's existence was palpable. His senses, unnaturally heightened, were assaulted by the constant stench and sweat of Kurt's feet. The pressure of each footfall was a reminder of his loss of humanity, his once vibrant life reduced to the sensation of being crushed and molded underfoot.

Kurt, oblivious to the true horror of his former roommate's plight, reveled in the newfound comfort. His feet felt supported and cushioned in a way they never had before. He walked with an ease that suggested he was floating rather than walking. But as he noticed this miraculous change, a decision brewed in his mind, one that would seal Reece's fate.

One night, while lounging with his feet propped up, Kurt pulled out the TF app. He contemplated the reversal process, but the thought of returning to discomfort was unbearable. With a cold resolve, he deleted the reverse data, ensuring Reece could never return to his human form.

"Sorry, man," Kurt said aloud, though he knew Reece couldn't respond. "But you make the best insoles I've ever had."

Reece, trapped within the confines of the insoles, was in constant, silent horror. He tried to scream, to plead, to beg for his humanity back, but his voice was gone, replaced by the silent endurance of inanimate suffering. Each day was a relentless cycle of sensory overload; the smell, the taste, the feel of Kurt's feet were all magnified to torturous levels.

He felt every step, every shift in weight, every moment Kurt's feet rested on him. The horror of his situation never dulled; instead, it grew with each passing second. He was aware, acutely so, of every moment, every touch, and yet, he was powerless, voiceless, his protests nothing more than the inaudible cries of a sentient insole.

You always had a thing for dirty used socks. Especially those of Brian, your soccer playing roommate. After every game he would use you as a foot bench so you could sniff and lick the hell out of them.

But you were never satisfied enough, you wanted more, so you got online and ordered a TF-gun.

A few days later it arrived just in time before he had to leave going on a seven-day soccer camp. After a quick explanation of your plan, Brian didn’t hesitate taking the gun out and putting the settings in.

You were still lying in bed when he came into your room and fired the gun, immediately your body starts to shrink taking on a white color, your limbs fusing together as you split in two and a Nike swoosh sign appears.

Brian immediately puts you on his dirty feet. As his foot slides in, you feel like your body is stretched out as it contours the shape of his foot, the smell and taste of his unwashed feet are divine as your senses are heightened to the max.

Walking around with you, Brian noticed how comfortable you are on his feet, the best socks he has ever worn. Before he puts on his cleats, he talks to you one last time making sure you know what you agreed to.

After a long day of running and training he takes his shoes off looking at you, you're drenched in his sweat to the point you're taking a more brownish colour instead of white.

You're already so far gone after only one day that he decides you're better off as a pair of socks than as a friend, breaking the TF-gun so you can never be changed back!

This is your life now just a pair of dirty smelly soccer socks for him, soaking up his sweat at practice and his cum at night.