"I'm not discussing this again!" Ophelia said, ignoring the shouting form in her hand. "I'm done dealing with this and I'm done dealing with you for the night."
She strode into the bedroom with a fierce gait, letting her boyfriend swing at her arm's length as she walked. He still continued to shout at her from her fist, his own fists pounding against her fingers. She felt an extremely minor sting against her index finger and looked down to see his teeth buried into her skin.
"Oh, that's real mature, Matt! Real mature!" Ophelia said, unhurt but even angrier. "Just for that, you're not spending the night in the terrarium."
She tossed her boyfriend onto the bed, his tumbling arc ending in a disorienting, but soft, landing among the comforter that lay atop their mattress. Before he could scurry away, she dropped her butt down onto him. She’d pinned him between their mattress and her butt before, and knew he could easily endure it, mostly because of the extra cushioning of the mattress, and the extra cushioning of her own ass, and allowed her to work unbothered.
She reached under the bed and produced the sneakers she had shed only a few minutes earlier when she returned home, and the socks contained within. From each shoe came a sock. Immediately, Ophelia knew she had a potent punishment in line. The stench that reached her nostrils, even before pulling the socks out of the shoes, was noxious. She had just worn the same socks and shoes that she had worn the previous day, and the day before that, and the day before that. She couldn’t recall when these socks had been washed, and it was evident in the stench.
With one hand holding a sock by the opening, she fished under her rear for her boyfriend, and quickly found his wiggling form, pulling him back up to her face, and next to the sock. Ophelia almost laughed as he wretched in her hand, his tiny body assaulted by the scent of her sock. It was almost enough, but Ophelia had so much more in mind for her disobedient little boyfriend.
“So, here’s what’s going to happen.” Ophelia noted. “Since you think you can just misbehave, you’re going to spend the rest of the night, and tomorrow morning in my socks.”
He tried to arrest his fall, clutching at her fingertips, the same ones he had bit and tried to escape only a few moments earlier. His fall was uninterrupted, though, as he fell free from her fingers and down into the sock. As bad as it smelled to Ophelia, even just holding inches from her face, she could only imagine what he was experiencing as she tumbled down into the once-white socks, his body making a bulge that traveled down the cloth and weighed the toe down when he finally reached the bottom. Almost immediately he began clawing at the sweat-soaked, stained interior to affect an escape.
Ophelia chuckled at the sight of her sock wiggling about, her boyfriend futilely trying to climb out from inside, but quickly moved on to the next step of the punishment. She followed her boyfriend with the second soiled sock of the pair. She took care to ensure that he was between the exterior of one sweat-stained sole, and the interior of the other. Sandwiched between socks, she slowly rolled her boyfriend up in the sock, starting at the toe of the sock and working up. Even through the layers of fabric, she could hear Matt's tone change as he realized what was happening, but she continued unabated. As she worked, the sound of his desperate protests faded, and the feeling of his struggles diminished against her fingertips through the socks. By the time she had rolled the socks into one, tight, coil, his muffled cries became inaudible through her socks and she couldn’t see or feel any evidence of his fighting back.
She held up the finished product, a tightly rolled cylinder of socks, with her disappointing boyfriend trapped at its core, but she wasn't done yet. Two more socks, merely dirty and pulled from the laundry pile as opposed to the freshly soiled gym socks she'd entombed him in, were used to further secure the roll. She dropped the sock roll into one, tied it off as close to the roll as she could manage, and dropped that into the fourth before tying it off as well. Under all the layers, she could no longer hear or feel her boyfriend, and there was virtually no chance of him, at the center of all that reeking cloth, escaping.
“And now that you’re not going anywhere…” Ophelia opined. “Let’s find a place for you to spend the night.”
The socks that she’d used to imprison her boyfriend had been pulled from the sneakers she’d spent an hour in intense cardio in at the gym. She lifted up one of them by the sole and held it to her face, taking a brief whiff, which she immediately regretted. The pungent stench was almost painful and inspired a reflexive wretch from her gut, followed by a gasp for clean air as she pulled it away and laughed.
“God, that’s bad, maybe not as bad as being in the socks, but I definitely need to wash both…” Ophelia said.
With no fanfare, she stuffed the sock into the shoe. The roll of socks, thicker by far than the shoe would easily allow, needed to be wedged into the footwear with some force. The socks imprisoning her boyfriend squished tighter and tighter as she worked it closer to the toe of the sneaker. With the socks almost invisible, she set the shoe back down on the floor next to its twin and moved it under the bed.
“Now you just think about what you’ve done, and, tomorrow, when I think you’ve learned your lesson, I’ll think about letting you out.” Ophelia said. “But right now, I need a shower.”