Chapter 8 - A Day in the Sock of Becky

 Struggling to finish one last episode of her favorite T.V. Show, Becky sleepily approached her bedroom. With a smile on her face, she opened her closet door, looked down at her sneaker, and she wished that she could hold her Dan in her hand. She knew, of course, that good things come to those who wait. Strangely, she did not worry for him. Not once did she consider that he might be upset, possibly even hysterical. She believed him to be warm, safe, and in the process of recognizing her as his everything. She considered removing him for a second, only to remove him from her old socks and place him in her “fresh” ones from today's gym visit. Ultimately, she decided against it. “THERE'S PLENTY OF TIME FOR THAT.” She thought to herself. “IT'S NOT AS IF HE NEEDS TO COME OUT FOR ANYTHING.” She recalled that he had eaten and used the bathroom 2 days prior so there was no reason why he couldn't just stay in there. To add to it, she decided that she would wear those “fresh” socks to the gym the next day and add to their “freshness”. She had it all figured out as she, once again, climbed under her giant comforter and tucked the bottom of it under her soft heels. She was in charge of her life, of her boyfriend's life. The only thing she had yet to decide on was when she would “change socks”.

The cold morning light crept its way through the window of what was once Dan's bedroom. As cold and startling as it may be, however, it could not penetrate the hard plastics and soft cotton of his girlfriend's shoe and sock. Dan wondered what time it was, for he had no points of reference to calculate time, nor anything to calculate location for that matter. It was completely dark and, even though he could not see his surroundings, the encapsulating scent was a constant reminder of his location. Dan was terrified by the diminishing strength of his girlfriend's scent within her sock. Was he simply breathing and absorbing the sweat and pheromones she had left behind? Perhaps her plan of scent training was taking affect. He didn't find himself attracted to her feet, and he still considered himself to be a man...a human man. Still though, he felt less offended and less concerned with his predicament, as compared to the night prior. This noticeable emergence of indifference, for lack of a better phrasing, scared the living shit out of him. It was then when Dan heard a noisy box spring creak and knew that his girlfriend was finally awake. He listened intently to her standing from the bed, the whisper of her soft feet against the carpet growing louder and louder as she approached the makeshift home she created for him...and then, he heard the closet door open.

Perhaps it was the lack of stimuli from within the foot-scented prison in which he slept that caused his indifference. For over 8 hours, he experienced no sounds, no sights...nothing except the relentless scent of Becky's feet. He did not understand how this scent training was supposed to work, but he respected it enough to believe that it could work. Despite all of this, upon hearing that closet door open, the closet door that he himself had opened countless times as a grown man, Dan felt his humanity kick back in. “No!”, he thought. “I'm not just some toy of hers. I'm a person, and I won't spend the rest of my life living in her socks!”. As uneven as it may have been, Dan struggled to rise against the ground and dash to the wall of Becky's blue and white sock, banging on the material clear through to the hard wall of her sneaker. “Let me out of here! Please, Becky!” He wasn't just going to sit there and let this happen to him. However, as he huffed and puffed, he realized that huffing and puffing was hardly better than sitting there, as both had the exact same outcome. When he realized that she probably couldn't hear him, he slumped down, hoping that she was just savoring the moment before she released him. In all this time, he was oh-so certain that she was going to take him out of the sneaker. His life had been turned upside down on a daily basis, but he always left room to be shocked, surprised, and gravely disappointed. As he sat there, expecting to feel his foot-scented home shake, rumble, and open, he heard the soothing voice of his girlfriend:

“I LOVE YOU, SWEETY...YOU'RE DOING SO GREAT IN THERE.”

“No....NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!”

Dan screamed as loud as he could but it was no use. He heard the closet door shut and he listened with despair as the sweet whispers of his girlfriend's feet grew softer and softer. He hated her. He despised her...but he missed her so much. She was what made him a complete man, and, ironically enough, she was the one stripping him of his humanity with each seemingly thoughtless and confidence breaking action she performed. Not knowing what else to do, and realizing that he would probably be spending, at the very least, several more hours in her footwear, Dan needed to feel like he was close to her, and there was only one way. He nuzzled his face into the soft, warm, and inviting material of Becky's blue and white striped sock and cried himself to sleep.

What must have been hours later, Dan awoke to the sound of footsteps, silverware, and television. She was carrying on with her normal day-to-day rituals while he was still tucked away in her shoe. If this had happened to Dan on the day he had shrunk, he would be mortified, blinded by anger...but the Dan of that day, the Dan who had now spent a consecutive 22 hours breathing nothing but the scent of Becky's feet, was not angry. He wanted to be, but he could not. Was he enjoying his situation? “No!” he thought. “I could never enjoy this.” But perhaps Dan, was losing respect for himself. Perhaps he was beginning to accept the level of interaction he had with Becky. Perhaps the scent training was working just as intended.