YourBigBoss

"Broooo...F-fuuuck! They feel sooo good! Eric and Tyler really are my feet! I didn't know it would be like this but damn I'm glad you convinced me to let you transform them." Ryan feels his cock harden up in his underwear as he gets his tender toes sniffed and sucked on lewdly, causing him to hump and grind against the bedsheets.

"I'm so glad your into it, too, dude! They're better like this. They never would have understood us, they held us back. But not any more. And now these fucking hot feet of yours are even hotter. How's it feel to be a fags stinky feet, bros? Hahaha!" Jake laughs and licks and looks down at his hot gay bestie's feet and imagines their two homophobic pals trapped deep inside them. It gets him hard to imagine how they will be reshaped by this experience, if he ever decides to turn them back.

"Oh they hate it, bro! For now... Mmmm... But how can ya hate this gay shit once you realize how good it feels..." Ryan moans out and spreads his toes, he can faintly feel them trying to resist and move on their own, shy away from Jake's exploring nose and tongue. But his feet have to obey his will. He's normally a sweet guy but Ryan is starting to like the feeling of his former friends trapped beneath him, transformed into mere parts of his body. It's awakened a darker and more dominating side of him. He pushes his feet back against Jake's face more, gripping his face between his toes and holding him there. Forcing him to be trapped in musky foot air, nothing else to breathe in.

"Ugghhnnn fuuuck... Duuude..." Jake huffs and moans out into his best friends feet and sniffs the air and licks harder over his feet. He's loving this new side of Ryan and how their relationship is free to develop without their former friends judgment holding them back. He's stroking his cock and touching Ryan's butt, groping it, worshipping him. It's so hot and he couldn't be happier.

That old him was melting away. Was he even aware anymore of what he used to be? How he was changing? No. It felt too good. He liked it too much. The feeling of his body swelling, the growing desire to get to the gym, to smirk, to fuck. Flex, smirk, grow and repeat. All he knows now is how to be dumb and hot and he loves.

Ya’ll like my butt so much. Making me want to twink out. I could make a UwU face, bite my lip, push out my rear and say ‘Mmm, does my butt look big like this?’. Then you’re ensnared into my trap. Hypnotised and fixated by my ass, those two perfectly round globes. I’ll make sure you’re the ideal top for me. A big smelly jock with a thick meat head.

‘Gosh it feels so empty’ I’d say, and your cock would swell and expand as your brain empties. Arms balloon and chest cracks. Sweat leaking from your pits and feet. Your legs hardening into thick tree trunks. Square jawed and glassy eyed. I want you perfect; to get what I need from you. My perfect jock top. All muscles. Dense. Meaty. Dumb.

I’d giggle and say ‘Like, you’re so hawt’ as I push back into you. The slow cogs in your head would turn and you’d grunt. ‘Flex for me dummy’ and you’d flex, like my own action figure for me to play with. A toy to pose. You no longer have the mental capacity to disagree, to deny me. Agreeing is just so much easier. After all, you don’t need to think, you just have to look hot and strong. Nothing more than a glorified chiseled statue. A trophy.

Bryce couldn’t believe that he met a hot Doctor who was running a muscle growth study. He had always wanted to put on muscle but his skinny frame seemed intent on remaining that way. When the Doctor informed him that he still had one spot open, he quickly volunteered to join the study.

Throughout the next year, Bryce would arrive to the Doctor’s lab once a weak and strip down naked so measurements could be taken. Then he would watch a few videos about a new workout technique or diet option. At first these videos were annoying to watch. Sometimes he swore he heard someone talking in the background or saw a random word quickly flash across the screen. When he told the Doctor about this, the Doctor just told him to stopping worrying about it and ignore it so that is exactly what Bryce did.

As the months went by, Bryce found himself incapable of focusing on his studies and found that he only cared about his workouts and diet. He eventually stopped going to classes. He continued to ignore all requests from his teachers and guidance counselors. He just found school so boring now that he couldn’t even give it a moment of his attention anymore. All that mattered now was giving the study his all.

He eventually received a letter that stated that he flunked out school but by the time it arrived, he found that he couldn’t read it so he took it to his next appointment with the Doctor. As the Doctor read the letter to him, he smiled at the end, put his hand on his pumped up pecs and informed him that he was now ready for Part 2 of the study. Bryce found himself cumming uncontrollably as the Doctor said that.

As part 2 of the study started, without even realizing it, he started to isolate himself. His friends and family no longer interested in. They would always act concerned about the changes he was making to his life but he knew deep down that they didn’t care. The only person who cared about him and wanted what’s best for him was the Doctor so he would do anything the Doctor says.

Eventually, Bryce was evicted from his small apartment but he didn’t worry. Today was his least appointment with the Doctor. He couldn’t wait to see if the Doctor would be proud of his growth.

He quickly rushed to the Doctor’s office, went to exam room one, removed his shirt, and waited. The moment the Doctor entered the room, Bryce’s cock started yo throb. He started yo tell the Doctor that he was evicted but the Doctor told him that he was already aware and had a solution for that problem but first, all he had to do was watch a new video.

When Bryce awoke, he has no memory of how he use to be but found that he didn’t care at all about that. He knew now who he was and now, he was the Doctor’s perfect muscle toy. All he must do now, is serve the Doctor so he was so happy when the Doctor informed him that the study was a success and that he was ready for Phase 3.

As Bryce listened to the Doctor explain Phase 3, he found his cock start to constantly leak. For phase 3, Bryce would be sold to the highest bidder at a secret auction. Once sold, Bryce would be programmed into his owner’s personal sex toy.

When the Doctor finished speaking, he found himself getting on his knees and crawling to the Doctor. He was so happy that the Doctor chose him for the study that he started to deep throat the Doctor’s cock. He just didn’t know any other way to thank the man for transforming him into the perfect muscle slave.

(2,000 follower special)

On the floor. Now! Put your face where it feels like it should belong bitch! Fuck, you can’t help doing what you’re told, can you? Good. I could tell by the first message you sent me, you were a needy slut. Message after message, needing validation, my attention. My time. But my time comes with a cost. Now it’s time to pay. Let’s get this done while your mind is horny and numb. Feel your body start to become more pliable. Compressing down, reshaping. Let it wrap around my smelly foot. Don’t resist, just let it happen. Let yourself become what you were destined to be. You don’t need arms, don’t need legs. All you need is an opening for my feet to rest; so open wide and let my foot stretch you out. You don’t need to move, to speak. You just need to exist, to be present. To complete the pair. To sniff and suck for eternity. A simple rubbery form designed to cushion my steps. Covered in a bunch of branding to signify your role as a product, uniform and non-unique. Disposable. A slide.

Size 11. That’s what you are. A size 11, Adidas slide. It’s what your label says. That’s how I’ll refer to you. ‘My size 11 adidas slide.’ What I’ll tell people when they notice you. ‘Yeah they’re new, look well sick, don’t they?’ And no one will question otherwise. No one will ever wonder why you smell of feet, why you don’t move or talk, or why you’re left lying on the ground - it’s just normal. You’re a literal footnote, barely worthy of remark.

No, you don’t belong to me, you belong to my chavvy feet. My toes, my arch, my sole. They own you. And my feet are gonna make sure you know that all too well. Your job is to protect them after all. That’s really the only use a filthy slide like you has. And I wear my slides without socks. How else am I going to make sure you smell like my sweaty feet? My juicy toes pushing into you day after day. Listening as the world goes by without your presence as if nothing had happened. Smelling my intoxicating scent as I hang out. Watching as the floor flies by underneath you while you worship my sole.

You WERE a person - had a name, a personality, and now you’re a fashion item for me to show off. Hate it all you want right now, but it won’t take long until you regard yourself as such too. Your mind irreparably warped by my constant heavy impression. By the bitter, salty musk clinging to your entire length. Soon enough, you’ll be happy to do your job. Feeling privileged for my kindness. Proud of that label sewn into you. That barcode number. Smelling my cheesy boy feet was something I chose for you. It must mean you did something right, right?

And you did. You whiffed my feet and gave up your body for something better. Something smellier.

An assortment of cheap materials. My slide. My latest fucking conquest. Accept my foul foot as your new god and prepare to fucking worship the sweat dripping from it. You’re finished!

Hahaha. Glad to add you to the collection, loser. Why should I ever have to buy footwear when there’s plenty of pathetic foot suckers just dying to stay at my feet. Permanently. You loved sliding into my dm’s unannounced, and now I’m gonna slide my big pungent foot into you. Enjoy, fuckwit. I know I will.

Well we don’t want to risk people thinking i’m a bottom, do we? There is somewhere even lower you can occupy. By that I mean my feet, of course. My sweaty juicy boy feet. You can help bump them up a few sizes. Which sole do you want to become? I think the left would suit you perfectly. I’m sure we can find someone to join you on the right soon enough.

Just imagine all the attention you will garner. Every pathetic subby boy will want to worship my new size 13 smelly feet, their noses pressed right up against you as they sniff. Granted, It can be quite a potent musk, but one you will quickly become accustomed to, as it consumes your every moment. Eventually you won’t regard it as just my scent, but also your own. Something to be proud of, the fact you smell of me.

Every step I take with you is like a blessing. You don’t need to see anything else but the ground, it’s where you belong. That or inside a suffocating beat-up sneaker. You’re much more useful like this, serving me. Improving my life just a tiny bit is worth giving up everything.

Ya’ll like my butt so much. Making me want to twink out. I could make a UwU face, bite my lip, push out my rear and say ‘Mmm, does my butt look big like this?’. Then you’re ensnared into my trap. Hypnotised and fixated by my ass, those two perfectly round globes. I’ll make sure you’re the ideal top for me. A big smelly jock with a thick meat head.

‘Gosh it feels so empty’ I’d say, and your cock would swell and expand as your brain empties. Arms balloon and chest cracks. Sweat leaking from your pits and feet. Your legs hardening into thick tree trunks. Square jawed and glassy eyed. I want you perfect; to get what I need from you. My perfect jock top. All muscles. Dense. Meaty. Dumb.

I’d giggle and say ‘Like, you’re so hawt’ as I push back into you. The slow cogs in your head would turn and you’d grunt. ‘Flex for me dummy’ and you’d flex, like my own action figure for me to play with. A toy to pose. You no longer have the mental capacity to disagree, to deny me. Agreeing is just so much easier. After all, you don’t need to think, you just have to look hot and strong. Nothing more than a glorified chiseled statue. A trophy.

This is a story inspired by the story "Refurbished" by the amazing @wakeup01. Most of the photos used in this story were kindly provided by him too!

Corey walked thoughtfully through the new shoe shop, looking at the products on display, all seemingly used goods put up for sale to a new owner. The thought of wearing another man's discarded footwear was kind of gross but Corey heard that this place had some good deals. He wanted some new clothes and if if the gear was refurbished, what was the harm, he thought to himself.

The fact that Corey never really seemed to see anyone sell or donate clothing as he walked past this store on his commutes before was strange, but what was stranger was the fact that all the products on display had a name attached to them, like the size 12 Nikes that had labels with the names "Luke" and "Cody" stuck to them. Could they be the former owners of these shoes? Even stranger, the names had a date attached to them. For some reason, Looking at the shoes close up gave Corey an uncomfortable feeling. In fact, the entire store seemed to carry an odd atmosphere, like hundreds of unseen eyes were staring at Corey...

He tried to shake it off, and turned to leave the store, only to bump into one of the employees. Corey grunted before quickly apologizing. He looked up and saw the employee smirking at him. The young man, roughly 20ish years of age was adorned completely in Nike gear, with the only thing not matching the Nike clothing was a nametag, Josh.

Josh smirked lazily as he eyed Corey up. "Watch where your going, gaylord". Corey took a step back from the domineering aura Josh gave off. He could not help but look at the employees feet, wearing a tacky but sexy pair of slides. Corey quickly looked back up to Josh, hoping the employee did not notice him staring at the younger mans feet.

"These slides are fucking sick, right?" Josh said, with a arrogant tone "Got them right here in this shop, speaking of which, are you gonna buy something, or are you just gonna keep creeping around at straight guys feet all day?". Corey shook his head awkwardly and turned to leave, his face red with embarrassment. "I should g-get going, sorry!". Josh just lazily nodded in disapprovement as he pulls out a small white piece of fabric and quickly grabbed his latest target. "Tch Tch, well bruv, if you won't buy anything from the shelves, I will just have to put you on them instead" he slaps the white fabric on to Corey, a slight sting as it sticks to the skin easily, making Coreys legs wobble and his vision blur slighty. "Store Policy, Mate, should have just bought something. He pulls the fabric... no, the label, and scribbles onto it with a pen, before smirking back to his latest acquisition, Gesturing at the dazed man to look. Though my blurred vision, Corey could barely make out the handwriting. His eyes slightly widened in a fearful confusion as he saw the label.

"Wha-What the fuck?" Corey stammered in panicked confusion, much to Josh's amusement, as he replied "It's a label with cleaning instructions, ya know, for a sock, innit?" Corey tried to stammer out a response but he could open his mouth anymore, no matter how hard he tried. "Sorry, buttfucker, socks don't talk, do they? Now C'mere, look at my big, straight, size 14 foot"

Corey stared at the big meaty foot, as Josh took off his slide and sock, and held it right in Corey's mesmerized face. The cheesy musk wafting into his nose, enticing him mindlessly to press his face into the soft, warm foot skin. Corey leaned forward, his body moving against his will. He knew this was a bad idea, he did not want to touch the big foot. The big... sexy... meaty... smell straight chav foot.... He could not stop focusing on it. It beckoned him, it called to him as he pressed his face into it. The foot was almost... hypnotic. Like a siren calling out to a sailor. He could barely process the sensation of his body as it slowly hallowed, threads of white cotton quickly overtaking his skin, his body turning soft... warm... hollow... like his body was turning into a ... sock. Corey moaned one last sound before his body shrank, his face turned to cotton, and he became a simple sock, that quickly wrapped around Josh's big foot.

Josh chuckled. "That's where you belong, bruv. On my alpha feet, you need this, gaylord. You need to be serving your straight owner, soaking up my sweat like a good little footmuncher bitch. You turned into a pretty comfy sock, fucking mint!"

Josh went back to working, making sure to dig his toes and work up a sweat to keep his little gay sock bitch nice and wet. By the end of the day, the stupid little sock was barely able to think, only caring about being comfy, being useful, being property... Josh's property... forever a cotton slave to its alpha chav god's stinking foot...

Goddammit. Why does he always have to argue about it. Can’t he ever put himself in my shoes and try and be more understanding.” I mumble to myself as my boyfriend fades out of sight down the empty train car. I sigh and stare out the window of the train, listening to the world outside shudder past.

“This space free?” Comes an excited voice, I look up to see a fit young guy casually drop onto the seat opposite me. He looked no older than 22 and was outfitted for some kind of sports game, with a designer tracksuit sagging off his hips, a red jersey that pressed against his lean stomach and a glossy puffer jacket.

“Uhhh…not really.” I remark, side-eying his trendy permed hair, perfectly styled and faded. I had never really understood the appeal of…‘fuckboys’; rich but devoid of personality - aside from the prepackaged one they adopt. In this case even I had to admit that he was rather attractive, in a blunt, dumb ‘grammer is for losers’ sort of way. There was a casual air of confidence in the way he carried himself, narcissistic? Sure, but maybe a little ego didn’t hurt, especially in the bedroom.

Shame he obviously wouldn’t be a sub - he’d look nice around my cock, although I can picture my boyfriend tripping over himself to placate his every whim. The perks of this ‘open relationship’ we had seemed increasingly one sided. Ugh. I’m quickly reminded of our argument, and my indignation wins out over my misguided lust.

“Mate, you look proper mad.” He chuckles, kicking off his trainers. He stretches out his legs and rests them on the seat next to mine.

“Name’s Dominic and I’m not….mad.” My voice trails off.

“Uh oh. Who is she then blud?” He gestures at me with his hands, rattling the horde of bracelets that buried his wrists.

“He.”

“Pftt. I should ‘av guessed. It’s all the same to me. I’m Trev ‘btw’. You off to the gay convention?” There’s a wry smile that is hard to be angry at, in fact I feel strangely comfortable with him. He seemed like a good listener.

“Funny, but yes. Meeting our friend Nate there.” I cross my arms in a futile attempt to appear more dominant.

“Wait, they have those now?” My eyes squint at him. “Just fucking with you. I got a game the next town over. I’m a player.”

“Wow, you don’t say.”

“Maybe you’ve seen me play on the tele eh?” He puts on a face and flashes his shiny white teeth proudly.

“Sure…” He was in a professional team? Like I’d know.

“So spill, what’s the issue with yuh ‘boy’? His ‘bussy’ too small?” My mouth begins to move before I really get the chance to think about what I’m saying, or why I’m telling him at all.

“Ugh. He just never tries to see things from my perspective, he always expects me to play the ‘top’. About everything. And I don’t share his weird kinks.”

“TMI. Oh. You’re the top? And your name is Dom? ‘Lolz’. Is your boy called SUBastian?” He laughs mischievously. His brazen use of text speech was strangely endearing, something I thought impossible.

“Dominic. And no, his name’s Addy.” I correct, flatly.

“Uh huh. Yeah, and have you tried the same? See things from Addy’s point of view. Find equal ground right. Maybe I can help. It’s like when there’s a disagreement in our footy team.”

“I don’t think it’s quite the same thing…”

“Should give it a try Dom, see how it feels to be the sub. It can be fun to let someone else take charge. Easy too when you don’t overthink it. Go on, just lay back and relax.” Yes, I’m sure this will solve all our problems. I humour him anyway, resting my back against the seat’s cushion. Ten seconds pass in silence, just the hum of the train carriage throbbing rhythmically.

“This is stupid-“

“Shush.” Trev stares at me intently, trapping my eyes into his own. I don’t think to look away, why would I. He continues talking, I hear the words floating past me but don’t register what they are. It feels like minutes until his fingers snap in front of his face, and the spell is broken. He just smiles and waits expectantly for me to reply. His legs move from the seat next to me and I follow their movement.

“I—I guess.” I stutter, unsure of what I’m replying to, feeling slightly dizzy, like waking from a dream. For some reason my eyes seem drawn to his feet, now resting on the edge of my own seat, fidgeting between my thighs. I didn’t notice that they were sockless before… or that they were so big.

“Deeper.” He snaps his fingers again. My eyes are feeling so heavy, it’s becoming harder to keep them open. “Picture your boy sitting in your place. See it in your head.” I think about him, see his dreamy smile, like the one growing on my face. “So easy.” Trev repeats, my head nodding absently to his words. He adjusts and pushes his feet against my groin. Hmmf. I should tell him to stop. To stop…

“Uhh.” The dull sound leaves my lips instead of the words I wanted, the rubbing sensation fraying the edges of my thoughts.

Trev’s fingers fiddle at his pockets. He pulls out a vape stick and blows a huge bubblegum flavoured cloud of smoke into my face. The fumes flow through my open mouth and circle my head. His hands appear to be moving in slow motion, like everything was suddenly at half speed.

“Being in charge is exhausting huh. Much better to just relax and follow along, like your boyfriend would.” Yeah, he would probably do whatever this guy asked him to.

“I bet he’d rub my feet If I told him to.”

“Yeah.” I agree, wrapping my hands around Trev’s chunky feet - he definitely would. I run my fingers up and down his sole, picturing my boyfriend in this situation.

“Eyes up here fam.”

*snap*

I look back up at him, falling into his stare once more, entranced. My hands continue to massage him, passing over the curves and arches of his large feet. The shame of doing this in a public place completely lost on me. “Good foot boy.” I fail to hold back a moan at the validation. Is this what it feels like? It feels…nice, good.

I sense my body start to slowly lean forward of its own volition. Trev loudly exhales, his lips pursing. Another dose of bubblegum mist fogs my view. “What else would your boy do?”

“Don’t know…”

“Bet he’d love to sniff my lush feet hm?”

Probably, I think. He was way more kinky than me about such things. This guy’s feet were quite ripe after all, maybe if I got a bit closer…no—no what am I doing? I begin to pull back when his intense eyes narrow at me.

“It’s okay. I can see you want to take a whiff too. Boy.” His inflection changed on the last word. There was something about the way he said it. Powerful.

“My—my boyfriend will be-“ My voice cracks.

“Put your fucking nose here. And sniff my cheesy feet.” He orders, accentuating each word, dropping all pretence - his finger snapping and pointing down.

It’s like a switch being pressed in my head. The words cut like a knife right through any lingering hesitation. My face lowers and inhales deeply, sucking up his harsh scent.

“Yeah.” I mumble from behind his feet in a daze.

“Yeah what?”

*snap snap*

“Yes sir.” I don’t know why I said it, it just slipped from my lips and then it was too late to take it back. Too late to stop, as my face leans down to his foot like a magnet. Too late to pretend I didn’t want a sniff, my nostrils breathing the thick musky air.

“A good start boy.” I tentatively take a couple more whiffs, a part of me still attempting to hold back, feeling self aware. He rolls his eyes and shoves his feet forcefully into my face, my nose pushed snugly between his big toe. His stench shrouds my head like a cloud. The concept of ‘disgusting’ faded to nothingness.

“Salt and vinegar flavour, your fav.” Trev asserts. It became true the moment the words left his lips. Salty and eye watering. My favourite. My cock liked it too apparently.

“You look so much better under me, worshiping me - where you belong. Keep going.” And I did. Breathing deeply, in and out. In and out. The heat from his foot radiates outwards, travelling down my body, seeping into my skin. “Wouldn’t your boy agree to be at my feet at all times If that’s what I wanted?” He—I would. I want nothing else.

“Of course sir.” I say, unaware that the words would seal my fate.

Something is changing. A shift in weight. My whole body starts to feel lighter, filling with air. My skin itches, a rash forming across it’s surface - bleaching every inch an even, clean white. The rash crawls down my chest, flattening my modest set of abs, leaving everything it touches incredibly soft, absorbent and flexible. Tiny strands of fuzzy cotton fabric poke out from each pore; the changes showed no sign of stopping.

Everything is happening all at once, alarms try and go off in my brain but it’s preoccupied swimming in a musky drunken stupor. My feet seem to leave the floor as my form inexplicably shrinks, the length of my arms folding inwards as my body simplifies.

“Look at you bruv. You were easy as fuck.” I gaze up at him, his smug face towering over me, looking so far away. A puff of vape smoke floats down towards me, particles dissolving on my cushioned skin. The sweet aroma mixes with the smell of his sour feet. “Just one look into my eyes and you were done. Get socked bro.”

Trev started to appear bigger and bigger, his feet dwarfing my new size, now taking up my whole view. It was like my essence was being pulled around his foot. My mouth opens and his toes slip effortlessly inside, stretching me out and making themselves at home. The rest of his foot follows, his ankle resting at my opening. It sets off my gag reflex momentarily, before feeling perfectly natural, like I was tailor made for his foot.

“Sorry bud, they’re a size 13.”

The taste of his potent sole explodes into me. I’m violently shaken out of my trance-like haze, the world around me speeds up. I try and desperately pull away, lucidity returning like a slap to the face. Why am I on the floor? Why is his foot in my mouth?! Oh shit oh shit!

“Get socked!” Trev yells enthusiastically. “Get fucking socked!”

Control is slipping away. My skin pulls taut around his foot, the fabric digging between his toes. It feels as though every part of me is pressed against him, his warmth surrounding me. My new shape settles into place, defined by his smooth curves.

I can’t move my ‘body’ at all, but all my senses still persist…somehow. My blurry vision clears, a sudden shift in view makes me disoriented. It’s as if I have a pov of the room from the bottom of Trev’s foot, he lowers it to the floor and my worldview erratically drops to carpet level before going dark. The material of the carpet brushes against me, the strange sensation is embarrassingly pleasing; bringing attention to the absence of my cock. Relief now seemed impossible.

“Socked. Man, I love that initial freshness. Tbh, it makes the inevitable even more fun.”

He pushes the weight of his foot into me, his sweaty soles sticking to my tight fabric body. It feels humiliating to be literally stuck on the ground. His stench clings to me, soaking me in his foot musk. The imprint of his toes yellowing my surface. It’s like having his foot down my throat, perpetually swallowing his mind numbing sweat.

“Mmm that’s good, you hang so tightly. A perfect fit. Hope you like sucking on my rank fucking toes. Cuz now you’re just my stinky ripe sock. Fucking idiot. Can’t wait to get you worn in.”

That’s not possible, I can’t be a sock…it defies logic. This is a nightmare I’m about to wake up from, any second now…any second…

He pulls at me and stretches my ribbed opening up and over his tracksuit, stuffing the silky material into me.

“So much more… pliable.” Trev wiggles his toes and my body conforms to it’s every movement, lodging in between each one. I try and desperately struggle, do something. I manage to achieve a light wriggle that only helps pull myself tighter against his skin.

Trev lifts his foot and points it towards the window, the dark night air rushing past outside. A clear reflection echoes back. I stare at it in disbelief, wanting to blink the reality from my eyes. A caricature of my shocked face is crudely printed on the underside of the sock - trapped frozen in time, with the word ‘SNIFF’ sewn into the fabric. The material was already beginning to discolour. Logic or not, That’s all I am now - a cheap white sock. His sock. An object.

“Basic as fuck boy makes basic as fuck sock. Lit.” He points out, smirking in the reflection while he checks out his new kit. Trev puts his feet back up on the seat, letting me watch the empty space where I had been sitting - back when I was more than just his property.

“Enjoy the view, while you can cheesy. You’re going to spend most of your time staring at the floor, or the inside of my fumigated sneaker.” What joy. I hadn’t even thought about that, about what comes next. Surely he didn’t plan to keep me like this? “Hmm. I think the name Dominic is a bit too fancy for you now, how about…sock. Simple, to the point.” Trev steps me back against the ground, his heel slightly raised. “Suits you, don’t you think sock?”

Light footsteps thud from down the carriage, getting closer and closer. “Hey babe. I wanted to apologise, Nate thinks—who are you? Umm where’s my boyfriend?” Addy had returned, this was my chance.

I wanted to shout and cry out to him, to get his attention anyway possible. I conjured a barely audible rustle and then nothing. All it did was reinforce how small and subservient I now felt, forced to listen to my owner in silence.

“Oh he’s not gone far, cutie. Sit.”

I hear my boyfriend stammer from above. All it took was one compliment and he turned to putty. In most cases it was endearing, but right now I needed him to be anything but agreeable.

I feel the weight on me shift. I glide through the air again, Addy’s expression coming into view across from me, from us.

“He’s…” Addy looks me over curiously.

“Yep. He got socked.”

“Gosh. That’s…hot.” His cheeks blush.

WHAAT! You’ve got to be kidding me! Damn, why did he have to be so kinky when I need him to rescue me. I can recognise his horny face a mile away.

“Now it’s your turn. Look at my eyes.” Trev’s voice taking on a more serious tone. Addy’s eyes dart up, quickly becoming ensnared by Trev’s hypnotic gaze. No, please snap out of it. “Good, keep looking. Relax. Let me give you the deets. In a few minutes you’re gonna have the privilege of having my foot up your arse, sucking up my sweat as a thin piece of fabric like your bf. You’ll be my sock puppet, controlled completely by my foot. You can already feel my toes pushing at your mind. You want it. Say it.” Trev waves me back and forth, hypnotically.

“But…mmm,”

“Say it.”

*snap*

“I — I want to be your smelly sock puppet. Pleaseee Master.” He moans in a trance.

“Course you do.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Addy’s shorts were noticeably tenting, a wet spot forming at the tip. He was getting off on the idea! “Sock puppet. Look at your boy, read the word sewn into him. You know what to do.”

Addy’s head leans towards me, eclipsing my vision. His huge nose presses up against me, his eyes dilating. I can feel his wavering breath brush at my cotton skin. He did exactly what the sock - me, said to and sniffed. The hesitant whiffs quickly devolve into enthusiastic huffing.

“Babeee. Hmmf. You smell so niceee. Mmmm.”

“That’s an obedient sock sniffing sock puppet.” Trev assured him. ”Now onto the other one.” Addy moves away from my view, I can only see him shuffling at the edge of my narrow locked vision. “Ready to join him?”

“Yes masterrrr.” Addy’s voice slurs monotonously. “Enter me and take control. We’re both yours.” Like hell we are!

“I want you to lick this foot clean like a dirty dog before it becomes your new home.” I hear him start to slobber all over Trev. “Good puppet. Get socked.”

The sound of my boyfriend licking and moaning in heat continued for what felt like an eternity. There was nothing I could do but be suspended in the air like my owner deemed appropriate.

“It’s time to become a puppet. Turn around and spread that cute bubble butt. There we go, feel my foot enter your rear, filling you up, fucking your tiny brain. Ufff. Tight. Fuck. Let’s stretch you out, nice and wide. Ahh that’s better. Your hole clamping around my ankle. Yeah. Becoming soft and flexible. A sock puppet. A sweat guzzling, empty-headed, dirty filthy sock puppet.” I can just about see Addy’s head, craning back in pleasure as he’s foot fucked.

“Butt feels…Hnng my—my body…” Addy pants desperately.

“Now belongs to my fat fucking foot. SOCK. PUPPET.

“Pu—puppet.” Addy’s bobbing head pulls out of sight, compressing around the invader inside him.

“Sock puppet. Surrendered all free will. Sock puppet. Commanded by feet. What are you?”

“I’m a sock… a sock puppet. Mmmmf…I’m a soooommfff.”

His voice goes silent. I can only assume he’s turning into a perfect match for Trev’s other foot. The thought horrifies me, but also gets me a little excited. I glimpse a pristine white shape shudder next to me. Trev sits up and places both feet flat on the ground, in order to admire his new additions to the collection.

“Hell yeah. You two make the cutest pair. Glad I could help bring you ‘together’. And no more worries about disagreements ‘lmao’. Go on, kiss and make up.”

Trev bends his legs and points me at Addy’s new form, his lustful face captured on the socks sole; the word ‘LICK’ was immortalised above. I was for sniffing and he for licking, it made a bizarre kind of sense to my addled brain. He brings his feet together and rubs us both against each other, our ‘faces’ pressed closely. My mind blurs, the friction bringing searing white hot bliss. God it’s amazing. He was so soft! Please more. More! Babe. Don’t stop. Get socked!

Trev eventually pulls us apart, I watch the folds of Addy’s loose fabric pull taut, finalising his transformation. He made a cute sock, just like me. We were now on equal footing. Wait, what am I thinking? This is insane, I don’t want this! Was I stuck like this? Would it be really so bad? No, stop.

I realised that the smell was permeating my thoughts, twisting them. Knowing that didn’t change how good it felt, how good his touch felt, his musk.

“Don’t worry, when I go to replace you I’ll be sure to sell you on as a pair to one of my foot sluts. Let’s be honest, as socks go, you’re kinda ‘mid’ at best.” The comment did nothing to reassure me about turning back to human. “Man you gay nerds are so dumb, none of you can resist my scent. It’s like you want to be part of my fit. Even my sneaks gave more of a struggle than you two lovebirds. All I need now is some new undies to stretch over my ass and hug my fat dong and balls. Know anyone?” Trev pauses and then laughs to himself.

As each minute passed my mind became more subdued, it was relaxing, becoming content. The part that was angry, defiant, was shrinking. A bubbling happiness was slowly expanding within me. I did my best to push it back but with my senses overwhelmed, it was a seemingly losing battle. Addy was probably already loving every second of it.

“Let’s have some fun. Which one of you will make a good cum sock? Who am I kidding, you’ll both be great. But for now…”

He peels me free from his foot, holding me limply in the air. For a moment I feel incredibly empty, already missing his warmth. The disappointment is short lived; I’m quickly filled out as he pulls me over a stiff pole. His cock. His glorious thick shaft. I’m forced to swallow it whole, it’s tip poking at my edges.

With his hand around me he wanks me furiously, using me as sleeve. ‘Don’t enjoy it’, I shout internally. This sucks. This sucks! It’s hard to ignore the pleasure it brings the both of us. Oh god I’m being stretched out by him completely. It sucks. Sucks… this…mmm. Faster. Go faster! Fill me! Cum inside me, mark me as yours!

My sexy owners pumping reaches a crescendo, now with both hands thrusting me up and down. One final tug. A grunt. A twitch. Thick copious splooge unloads right into me, flooding my interior. His fuckboy seed is absorbed into me, my cotton body sucking up every drop. A dark patch spreads across me and crusts over as it dries. The bitter taste lingers, like the cum was sat on my tongue.

“Fuck me, that was sweet. But enough fun.” Trev pulls me off his dick and janks me back over his foot, his toes push against my cum stained dark spot, still damp.

Trev’s phone starts to ring with some loud trap song. “Trev. Yeah. Yeah mate. Course, you fucka. Be arriving soon. Mint, I got me some new gear too. Ace. Uh huh…K, chat tomorrow.”

What would have normally been inane babble to me made a concerning amount of sense, like his identity was somehow rubbing off on me.

He stands up, dragging something over to him with his other foot. I’m lifted high into the air, tauntingly hovering over his beat up shoe. I can’t help but look down at my future smelly prison. I don’t think my mind can take any more…

It didn’t help knowing that the sneaker was once a guy, now heavily used. It was like seeing a glimpse of my own fate. Mmmm.

“Let’s get you acquainted.”

I see the trainer hurtle towards me as I’m lowered to the floor. My edges slide effortlessly into the pungent confines of his sneaker, the thick stale air engulfing me. I’m pressed against the stained sole and squelch against it’s moist surface; the outline of his foot clearly indented into the material. My vision goes pitch black.

The stench is blasted at me from all sides. Fuck me. I don’t stand a chance against it, my mind is drowned beneath its waves. Sinking below as new, more simple desires emerge.

There’s a muffled sound of an announcement playing overhead. “Guess this is where we get off lads. I should probably warn you, me mates and I have a footie match tomorrow. And I don’t plan on removing you, after that I expect you won’t even want to be turned back. Not that I ever planned to. I’m sure you stinkheads don’t object? Sorted.”

I didn’t object, in fact, I— I think I was looking forward to it. My printed face would probably be completely yellow by the end of it, as it should. Mmm.

The weight of his foot lifts as I feel myself rise from the floor and then just as quickly I’m pushed back down to the ground. My boyfriend being subject to the same in tandem. A second later and it happens again and then again, each step the strength of his body squishes me against the shoes insole, which sticks to my surface. And each time, my brain is submerged in a pleasant sweaty haze, scattering whatever dim thoughts I had left. The weight flattening my mind to sodden mush. Rewarding me for fulfilling my role as his smelly, mindless sock, us both huffing at our owners beautiful addictive feet. Together.

“Maybe we should stop off at that gay convention first, see how many noses we can get pressed against you two while you get sucked dry. Plus, we could find that friend of yours to get wrapped around my big sweaty butt.”

thank you so much x

PARK PIT STOP

How very adorable of you to send me an ask like this boy. And that’s kinda the problem, ‘adorable’, a word hardly befitting a proper lad.

Forget these fucking ‘chavs at the park’, it’s not them you find yourself staring at, it’s me. Obviously. It’s me who has drawn your attention, standing staring at my phone in my Nike fleece set. A chain around my neck and chavvy trainers around my feet. For some reason you can’t seem to look away, stopped dead in your tracks, feet cemented to the ground as your eyes follow my movement. It’s like being in a trance, my aura has somehow hypnotised you, has your brain transfixed. Sure, you liked chavvy lads but you weren’t usually this brazen in your admiration of them. This was dangerous; what if you got caught? Especially someone like you: a cute effeminate twink whose most notable feature was their butt.

Several people in the park push past you, sighing in annoyance as you block the path. At this point it was kinda pathetic, you must have been watching intently for at least five minutes. Something about me was hypnotic, was pulling your attention towards me. The way I casually leaned against the wall, the way I held and spun the phone in my hand. Everything was utterly fascinating, like admiring some exhibit at a museum. It required further study. But then my head rose, my eyes locking with yours. You felt your heart rise in your chest, and yet still, you didn’t move. Didn’t look away.

“The fuck do you want mate?” I yell over to you, enraged, noticing your attention. And then the rage in my face quickly fades, replaced with a knowing smile. A smile that told you something bad was coming your way. “Fucking ey, not another one.” I chuckle. My accent cutting straight through you. Making you shiver in place. Suddenly you felt so small, tiny, like the world around you was towering above you. “Yur the 4th boy this week enchanted by my superior presence. I caught me a cutie an all.” The condescending compliment did more for you than you were willing to admit.

“Wh-what’s happening?” You stutter, frozen to the spot. As I get closer, my musk begins to surround you, clinging to you. It’s intense, a mix of deodorant and sweat circling around you as you continue to stare. “OMG. I’m not some freak, I swear. I can’t move.” You point down at your feet, as if that was going to resolve the situation.

“It’s my scent innit. Potent or sum shit. Just a tiny hint works for sum. I don’t really give a fuck, but it makes weak boys gooey eyed and braindead when near me. Makes them super fucking impressionable.” I explain, relishing the moment. Your eyes widen more with each word that leaves my mouth. “Hahaha! Like, I can reshape their mind into something, you know better.” I watch your expression intently, noticing your attempt to look away while your cheeks blush a crimson red. Your hands squirm at your sides and then erratically move forward in a vain attempt to cover the obvious tenting in your trousers. “Yeh. Bet you wish i’d hold you down, spit in your mouth and make you worship my fuckin’ feet. Ey lad?”

“What! N—no. Not at all.” You blurt out immediately, embarrassed by the insinuation. But at the same time, the suggestion - despite your insistence otherwise, makes your cock twitch. The intense smell pouring out from my body, didn’t help. You could sense it messing with your thoughts, clouding them. It was so strong and…bad? Well, maybe not bad. It was…manly. It was propa. Fit.

“Fam. You look like a keeper. I could do with some stupid fucking beta lad to glaze me and everything I do. A real loyal moron, happy to serve his fit fucking Alpha. How does that sound, shithead?” I smirk, leaning in close.

Wait, what? The remark catches you off guard, knocking some sense back into your thoughts. That sounded awful. You weren’t some chav thicko. “Please. I—I’m not like that. Not that kinda—“

“You’re like some posh fucking twat. Yeh. I’ll fix that mate. You just need one long fucking whiff straight from the source and you’re done. A nice propa pit sniff and yur brain will thicken into chav idiocy faster than you’ll be able to count. That pretty boy face of yours will soon be a right manly mug, it just needs to bathe in my rank sweat for a sec.”

You try your best to move - it really is now or never, but your feet don’t listen. You just happily stand there, shaking like a leaf as I raise my arm into the air. “Oh gawd, I don’t want to be like you. Like sum—some smelly, uneducated crude dunce.” You yell, your voice slightly cracking. It was unlike you to be so overtly insulting, and the slight accent you noticed leaving your mouth was cause for concern.

“That’s it lad. Give into it, my smell is already fixing you. Curing you of intelligence. Just fucking let it.” I step closer again, my arm raised - inching towards your anxious looking face. Your view is slowly being obscured by my armpit, the world around it disappearing. “Any last pathetic words as a nonce before I shove my fucking pit into your face and make you my dumb chav beta?” I stop momentarily, my moist pit hovering in front of you, like the sword of Damocles hanging over your head, ready to strike.

Your eyes dart left and right, unable to escape the horrid view. With a last gulp you open your mouth. “No! I’ll give you any—mphhhhh!” Your words are cut short as my pit plummets towards your open mouth, your tongue getting a full taste of my heady sweat. You can’t stop yourself from swallowing. Swallowing the flavour and feeling it spread inside you, corrupting you. You can feel it, feel it happening. It’s like your mind being stretched thin. Oh shit, you think - it’s being simplified, being made dumber…better. Ey, so much fucking better! It’s intoxicating! It’s lush as fuck! You want more! You open your mouth again and go to town on your new favourite drink, licking and swallowing at my underarm. You can hear me faintly laugh but it doesn’t dissuade you. You had to serve, to please me. It was your place as a basic beta chav. You whiff. You lick. You suck up my stench. And it was fine. Good. Lit as fuck.

My taste consumes you, warps you to my whims, my desires. Every part of you is swarmed by my sweaty scent, becoming part of you. The musk overwhelms and eradicates your pleasant aroma, so that you smell exactly like me, like a lad. You feel your face tingle, feel it contort. Your appearance betrays you. That pretty boyish expression devolves into a dim mannish scowl. Freeing you from manners and charm. That curly hair you spent an hour this morning styling straightens, pulling into a short fringe that perfectly frames your square boxy face and sharp jawline. Your eyes empty of any sign of intellect as the smell clouds and fogs your brain into a pleasurable dumb stupor.

It was all too much, too fast. You had to at least try to pull away, before it was too late, before you were too far gone. I feel you halfheartedly try to struggle under me, your arms lightly pushing at my chest. “Nice try pit pig. But you’re fuckin’ mine now.” I growl, reaching my hand around you. A muffled groan leaves your lips as I forcefully push your head further into my armpit. The consequence is instantaneous. Your tiny frame bulks up as I lean into you, your chest crunching as a small set of abs push against your tight skin. Lower down, your delicate feet explode, stretching exponentially and ripping your socks and shoes. The bottom of your juicy soles ripen immediately, dripping sweat and soaking the tattered cotton under them. You absently wiggle the toes of your new, huge, size 12 musky feet.

I am still not completely satisfied though; you can be better. More able to serve my needs. My hand gropes at your bubble butt, palming it like a basketball. It was adequate. It had room to grow. With a tight squeeze of my fingers, you feel your cheeks expand further in my hands. Expanding like giant bouncy balls. The hefty weight presses tightly against the rear of your trousers. A clear indent of your fat jiggle arse on full display to the world. A true dumper to be proud of.

Satisfied, I finally pull away, revealing the new, doltish you. I admire your different hairstyle, a harsh crop that practically says ‘i’m an idiot’. Your jaw remains slack as you look up at me in adoration. “Woah mate, that was fucking sick amirite?” You slur in a heavy accent, indistinguishable from that effeminate mousey voice you once owned. “I feel right horny.” You remark, crudely as you rub at your crotch.

“Shit bruv. Aren’t you a good fucking lad. I did you a right favour, didn’t I like?” My hand affectionately pats your back. After-all, you were an equal now. Well, no. Not an equal. Far from it, in fact. You were an idiot. But my idiot. Mine to use. Again and again, like the true beta fuckboy you were. “Didn’t I fam?” I repeat, this time more aggressively.

Blinking repeatedly, your eyes lock with mine once again. You pause for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. There’s this lingering feeling that you should refuse. Some distant memory of being smart, educated. That you weren’t acting right. That something had happened to fuck with you, with your personality. You had to speak out against it, push back. Use every ounce of brain power to regain control of…of…of Oscar! That was it, your name. Oscar! Oscar was smart. Cute. It was there, just out of reach. Who you once were, that bubbly, funny twink with a charming smile. You had the words. The words that would undo this, save you. They were on the tip of your tongue. You knew what you needed to say and you were going to shout them out confidently. Just one sentence of—

*burp*

You hear the vile sound leave your mouth. And then the words came. “Fuck ya mate!” The lucid moment passed. Passed out your vulgar mouth and dissolved into nothingness, along with any hint of your past self. Of ‘Oscar’. Guffawing like a monkey, you lift your own pit and give it a deep sniff, enjoying the smell I imparted onto you like a drug.

“Ozzy boy, you’re such a dipshit! The fuck are you wearing? Come on, we need to get down to JD sports and sort you da fuck out. Now.”

“Yeh boss. Whatevs you say.” You agree without thought, nodding along with my words as the pleasant, addictive scent radiates from both our bodies. Now there was no escaping it. It would follow you everywhere you went. Like - you know, a bad smell. Insuring you remain dopey, chavy and subservient.

“Exactly, shit for brains, whatever I say. Serve your Alpha. Let’s see you hit the floor where you belong and kiss my rank fuckin’ feet.” I snap my finger and point down. As if giving a command to a obedient dog.

“Propa lush.” Your thick and slow voice slurs as you fall to your knees in the middle of the public park, lowering your face to my white nike socks. That addictive smell once again overwhelms you. Tells you to submit. To be the beta chav you were always meant to be. Without hesitation, you huff at my feet like they were a bouquet of sweet flowers. Worshipping your Alpha.

By the end of the day you looked like a completely different person: kitted out in new gear, a fresh cut and swaggering like a completely dumb chav.

Let me get this right, you said I was evil for turning your annoying friend into a dumb fucking sock? But look at him, doesn’t he seem so happy to be a sweaty piece of fabric stretched over my huge fucking sole? Doesn’t he look amazing pulled so tightly between my smelly toes? His whole meaningless life distilled down to me and my feet. It’s all he’ll ever have to worry about. I did him a proper favour. How can I be evil for helping him find his role in the world. As a foot sniffer. A toe licker. A sock.

And he’s doing such a good job and all.

But like, there’s an problem, innit mate. Can’t you see? My other meaty foot is so damn lonely. Empty. Bare. Without propa protection. Just look at it. Don’t you want to help? To be useful? To find purpose? Just an easy ‘yeah’ and I can help you. I’m so kind like that.

Don’t overthink it, don’t ponder the consequences. Just listen to that stupidly horny side of your brain and embrace the idea of being a scally’s rank fucking sock. To spend the rest of forever gulping at my intense musk. To have to put up with me each and every day as your obnoxious god. Look at those perfect feet and get weak. Let your mind break for me just like your reluctant friend. Be jealous.

Give me your answer. Now.

Hahaha. I knew you’d make the right choice. Go on, suck my fat fucking toes and feel your worthless body wrap tightly around my huge cheesy foot. No more cares, no more responsibilities. No more you. Just an object, owned by me. So simple, so dumb. Whiff, lick and serve your new permanent home. Oh yeah, don’t forget to say hello to your equally moronic friend. I’m gonna wear you in all week long, marking you as my property with my intoxicating musk. Let it drown out all your thoughts. Let your mind turn to foot loving mush.