A few months ago I moved in with my best friend Sean’s family. I’d stayed over there a number of times in the past when he was around, but now he was living away at college. His step dad had passed away and his mom and sister Kelly were alone in the house. 

I got along great with them and they offered for me to live there in the guest room. Wanting more than anything to get out of my parent’s house, but not yet having saved enough to live alone, I decided it was a workable solution.
I moved in on a Saturday. Sean’s sister was sitting in the living room. She was wearing a t-shirt that showed off her sizable breasts, tight bluejeans, and white sport socks. She was a great girl with curly brown hair and a twinkle in her eyes that made me often wonder if she was looking for more than just casual company.

This evening, like most, she was sitting around talking on the phone. The cord was hanging down along the chair, and she had wedged it between her toes as she talked. Her feet would move slowly, curving around the cord and bending and flexing as she seemed intent on relaxing whenever she could. 

I couldn’t stop from watching the slightly dirty, but soft looking with the fuzziness that socks get when there’s a little bit of wear. I could smell her ck one perfume, but mostly I wondered what her feet would smell like, and what it would be like to be a toy of her sock. 

The television show ended and I was having trouble staying awake, so I decided to get some sleep. More than anything I wanted to go up with Kelly to her room above the garage and show her how well I was able to massage her toes inside my mouth, but I was scared. She was my best friend’s sister and I had made out with her years ago during a camping trip where we both ended up sharing a blanket beside the fire, but today I wasn’t her boyfriend, and to do anything might risk the relationships I had with her family, so I decided the best plan of action was to do nothing.

I went upstairs to the guest bedroom. It was across the hall from his mom’s bedroom, and I found myself quickly taking to masturbation as a way of releasing the erotic fantasies I had about his sister. I imagined how she tasted all over. I’d spent some time feeling her tongue run along the inside of my mouth years before, but I still had yet to taste her foot, and this was what stuck in my mind as I went to sleep.

Morning came as it often does, with little warning and a feeling of wanting sexual excitement, and perhaps something to drink. I crawled out of bed and went downstairs. The girls had left, Sean’s mom went to work as a nurse, and a quick look in the driveway let me know that Kelly had left for her job as a waitress.

I finished my drink and decided to see if Kelly had left any dirty socks laying around her bedroom for me to smell. I went out into the garage and walked up the stairs into her room. It smelled of ck one and Kelly. She had a soft and very feminine scent to her. The bedroom was done in fairly plain colors, from the bedspread of white to the off white carpet. 

The big draw was that she left her laundry laying all along the floor of the room. I looked around and socks lay about with her sweaters and jeans all about. A quick look out the window told me that nobody was in the driveway, and I figured I had some time, so I laid down on the floor with my head and face in a small pile of her socks. Closing my eyes I just took in her scent, took in the odors from her dirty socks and imagined what it would be like to be a dirty sock on her floor.

I reached down to feel myself as I kept my eyes closed and relaxed. Time went by too quickly and I heard the sound of a car door coming from just outside. I opened my eyes quickly, knowing that there wouldn’t be a way to avoid being found up here, I quickly went over the possible excuses in my mind. Maybe I was here because I thought I heard someone up here and went to see if Kelly was home, or maybe I went up to find some music cds.

None of the excuses were really good, but I knew they were better than nothing and it was possible that she wouldn’t care enough to look into them very much. I could hear her coming up the stairs, so I decided it would be best to be standing when she got to the top.

I tried to move but nothing happened. I couldn’t move my arms or legs and she was getting closer to the top of the stairs. I started to breathe heavy as I didn’t know how to explain my laying on the floor with my head in a pile of her dirty smelly socks. She was sure to catch on that something more was going on here today.

She rounded the top of the stairs and threw down a backpack to hit the wall. She walked into the room and right past me without a glance to sit on her bed. She laid back on her pillows, sighing and closing her eyes. I tried to move, tried to tell her my excuses, but nothing came out and nothing moved. I was frozen in place on her floor and she hadn’t even noticed me beside her bed.

She started to move and the bed was shaking. She stood up and kicked off her shoes so they landed on the floor. One fell with it’s open end near to my face and the hot vapors filled the air around me. I opened my mouth and felt the taste of old sneaker fill my throat. There was a mixture of sweat and ck one coming from the sneaker, and it was warming the carpet and the side of my face, as she had worn them all day at work.

I saw her foot coming off the bed. It was the white sock with a hint of dirt and the fuzziness of minor wear that first filled my eyes. She hung it above me, off the side of her mattress and just played with it. Twisting and scrunching her toes inside the soft sock fabric, enjoying herself as the scent filled my senses.

Then she decided to stand. She stood right on me. Her sock came down from the side of the bed as she sat up and stretched. She stood on her feet and made a step towards my face without looking in my direction. Every part of my vision was the dirty bottom of her white socked foot as it descended directly onto my face.

 
I felt myself crushing under her weight. Kelly was a beautiful girl, but she wasn’t a petite girl, and her feet applied the pressure of a truck as I was crushed down into her carpet. She just stood there not moving for more than a minute. I stared upward into the fabric ceiling above me, and tried screaming for her, but still nothing was there.

Finally she moved. I stuck to the underside of her socked foot and fell forward as she dragged me a little forward. She walked along the room still not noticing me, and went into her shower. The water turned on and I heard the sounds of her washing up, while I waited on her floor, wondering if she really hadn’t seen me, or if she was ignoring me. I wasn’t sure which one to believe, but something was wrong here.

Twenty minutes or so went by and she came out of the shower wrapped in a faded blue towel. She walked out past me and I heard the sound of the towel hitting the carpet. I listened and heard her pulling on skin tight jeans as well as the opening and closing of her closet doors. Then I felt it. Her hand had grabbed me by the legs and I was being lifted into the air.

I knew it was time to confess. Maybe she would not be so angry with me when she knew it was purely a sexual thing. Or maybe she would just kill me and bury the corpse in the backyard, either way I knew she was going to confront me about it in only a matter of minutes.

Then it changed. She grabbed both sides of me and I felt pulled apart. Her foot came at me quickly and I noticed an opening that wasn’t there before, one that she used to jam her foot into me and wiggle it along behind my face and through my body. I could feel and taste her inside me. Something had happened and I’d become one of her socks!

She got up and pressed me hard into the carpet. I was slammed again and again into the soft fibers as she walked, dragging me along on her foot, towards the stairs. I tried screaming to her, but she didn’t even seem to notice me at all. In fact she seemed more focused on the stairs and began slamming my body hard into the rubber floor with all her weight as she walked down the steps.

We entered the living room and I choked on the lush light blue carpet as she seemed to be walking slower, and I found myself living deep in the fibers. She turned on the television and I flew in the air as she sat back in a chair. She hung me over the side of the chair and began rubbing me with her other foot.

 
I could taste her sweat and the other foot seemed intent on making a toy out of me as she massaged it endlessly. This went on for hours as she watched and laughed at the television shows. Her feet grew warm and when the sweat formed beaded on her toes and in the crevices, I absorbed it and tasted the drops that slid into my open mouth, filling my body with the taste of vinegar.

The phone rang and I found her talking quickly as her toes picked at the chord through my face. She proceeded to curl me and rub me along her other sock as she talked. I drifted in and out of knowing what was going on, but finally I found myself more awake than ever as she scratched at me with a finger, trying to relieve an itch, but mostly tearing at my body as her nail probed me and scratched.

I was nothing to her, and when she turned off the television, she walked on me into the bathroom, pulled me off her foot, and threw me down the laundry shoot. I landed on a pile of clothes, right on the receiving end of a pair of panties. I tried to scream in the darkness of the basement. I tried to move. But nothing was working and all I had to look forward to was a night of rancid smells, laying here among her laundry, hoping she would come down and wash me so she could wear me again.