In order to gain a better view and make it easier to traverse the environment, Steve scaled one of the carpet fibers and proceeded to Beth’s cubicle. It looked much like his own with a few differences, the most obvious one being the colossal black plateau-like that was her old basketball gym bag.
The bag (from Steve’s perspective) looked like it could hold an entire city. Judging from the worn condition of the bag, one could definitely tell that Beth had using it for some time. Steve stared at it, pondering of any other reason for bringing a gym bag to work other than to serve the purpose of heading to the gym immediately afterwards. He figured, best case scenario: he climbs aboard and he gets a personal viewer’s experience of Beth at the gym (more specifically, in the locker room); worst case scenario: He gets into the bag, and Beth takes him home with her. Either way, Steve thought, his wildest dreams would come true. He made a straight line for the bag.
Once he reached the bag, he noticed a vinegary odorous aroma flowing from it. It was nothing oppressive, but it was definitely potent. Steve spotted a nearby hole in the bag and proceeded towards it with his heart pounding furiously with anticipation. The hole itself was approximately a fraction of a centimeter, which to him was roughly the size of a telephone pole. As he entered the hole and began to scale the fabric of the duffle bag, his lungs and nostrils filled with a horrendous cheesy pungency. Despite the smell, which pushed Steve’s sense even further into insanity, he continued on. When Steve climbed as far as he could, he saw before him the source of the stench: Beth’s old workout clothes.
“S-she m-must have forgot to wash them,” Steve thought as his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He slowly approached the towering sneakers. They were old worn white high tops, with some of the stitching coming undone and small patches of filling popping out in various spots.
Sights like this drove Steve wild; ever since he was a toddler, Steve loved feet. Often when he was that age, he would lie his head on the socked and fuzzy slippered feet of his relatives whenever they would come and visit. Now, as an adult, he had to figure out ways of convincing females to let me sniff their feet.
His favorite thing to sniff, though, were socks. He loved socks particularly because of the combination of the soft fabric and the ability to capture and hold the sweat and stink of feet. He began scaling the monolithic sneaker, hoping that inside were a pair of socks. Just as he reached the rim of the sneaker, he yet again felt the vibration of their titanic owner returning. As Beth got closer, her quakes were becoming stronger and more violent. Steve tried to maintain his balance. He did not want to fall into the deep abyss of the shoe; from his field of vision, the bottom of the shoe was just as worn as the outside, complete with a faded 12 in the middle. It was no surprise that Beth had big feet; she was after all 6’3.
The ground stopped shaking and Steve got back on his feet. “Thank goodness Beth finally sat her ass down,” he thought as he let out a sigh. Just then, he heard Beth speak.
“Wow, it’s 5:00 already!? I need to get going; I still need to work out and buy groceries. I’ll just get changed in the ladies room,” Beth said as she turned off her computer. She then grabbed her duffle bag, causing an alarmingly strong jolt that sent Steve flying into the depths of her sneaker…
Slightly bruised, Steve awoke in the middle of the size 12 circle. He watched as a bright light clouded his vision for a moment before he realized where he was. He gazed up at Beth, who was standing in a plain white tee and matching basketball shorts. She sat and bent down, extending her immense hand. It covered Steve’s vision and shake his entire world as she lifted the sneakers out of her old bag and placed them on the floor. When Steve came to, he heard the sound of soft fabric rubbing against something. He looked up once again to see what would was both the most horrific and majestic thing he had ever seen: Beth pulled out of her other sneaker a long pair of thick white socks. They were average crew socks the size of battleships, with brown dirt and yellow sweat caked into the bottom fibers. As they were lifted skyward towards Beth’s face, the oppressive stench faded. “Holy shit,” Steve said,” those are the source of the smell.”
Beth took a quick whiff, and almost immediately, withdrew them from her face. “These definitely need to spend some time in the washer,” she exclaimed to herself, her now-sonorous voice echoing throughout the area. ”They are really comfortable to wear, especially when I play basketball. They make my sneakers feel good too.” She shoved the socks onto her feet without a second thought, and wiggled her toes as she let out a content, relaxed moan. Steve stared at the colossal “Sockzillas” hovering above the sneakers; at his size, the wiggling of Beth’s socked toes could be heard (and smelt) from where he was standing. Beth looked down at her sneakers and chuckled. “Gotta love these sneaks, being able to hold these big pups for the third day straight, all throughout my long intense workout.”
Steve watched as she lowered her left foot back into its den; the sight of something that big moving that fast with ease unnerved him a little. When the only part that he could see was the long tube that extended well past Beth’s ankle, he heard her tying the laces and saying, “Dang it, I guess this is as broken-in as these shoes are going to get. It’s a shame, they’re still a little tight on my feet.”
Steve stuttered, “Beth’s feet were actually too big for these shoes. This is going to be a tight fit…” He shivered in fear and excitement as his dream was about to come true: He was about to be stuck under Beth’s sock as she worked out. Her sock glared down at him, like a lion glaring a mouse. Steve felt his world once again moving and the foot seemingly growing in size as the area was getting darker and darker; Beth was lifting her shoe.