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Author's Chapter Notes:

This is my first story with transformation in it so I'm not too familiar with it but I just wanted to try it out to see how I'd do.

Anyway, on to the story!

It was an average day for my sibling and I. Waiting for our mistress to come back in her shoe closet to have the chance of using us for the day. Out of the dozens of pairs available to her at this point, the boots that she wore to school easily her favorite. Unfortunately, one of those cowgirl boots was me.

 

Our mistress/owner/goddess was Amy and she rarely addressed any of us directly, if at all. To her and her feet, we were no longer people. We were shoes for her to wear, to show off to the unsuspecting public. Hell, she brought so many pairs and turned so many people into more shoes, it must've been hard to identify who was a person and what was actually just a plain shoe. All I knew was that I was a boot and I couldn’t tell who else was also a person. The first night I was turned into a piece of leather and other materials that this brunette girl would put her feet inside and were inside my ‘body’, I felt every drop of sweat and every wiggle of her toes as she teased me with the power she had over me. Just her doing that, broke me and most likely my partner.

 

Unfortunately, or fortunately, I never had to eat, sleep or almost anything else a normal person would. I could only exist as a boot that this girl that I only knew through my work. I guess it was fortunate that this girl made me into a cowgirl boot made of leather. If I were turned into a flat or a sandal, I’d be tossed out for being too worn within a few weeks. I’d seen one pair of sandals Amy loved get tossed out from falling apart after only a few days because the toe grips broke. My brother and I lasted long, at least six months with no visible wear. Meaning, we were going to here with her for awhile. Aside from being a girls pair of boots, life wasn’t all that bad everything considered. She took relatively good care of us, polished and cleaned us which was nice. At least she shined us every now and then.

 

It all started when I met Amy about a year ago. I met her while working at the local cafe while she was a regular customer. She'd come inside everyday exactly on the dot at six and order the same two things. A large mocha with a cinnamon roll and would leave without saying much of anything. Then one day, my curiosity finally overcame my fear of talking to her in an actual conversation.

 

“Hey, you keep coming in here everyday at the exact same time and order the exact same thing.” I could tell even back then that she was an odd one. She looked at me, took a bite of her cinnamon roll and began chewing it very slowly as I waited for a response. In the meantime, I looked over the counter slightly to see her long, clean shaven legs. At the bottom of the legs, I saw exactly where I would be in a few hours from that point. Her feet. At that time, I remember her wearing sandals that perfectly shown off her almost delicate, dream like toes. If I could’ve known I was going to be the shelter of said toes, I would’ve quit and ran out of the store right then and there. But, I remained there like the kind and considerate person I was. Unaware of my future.

 

“Oh I'm just like that. If I could wear the same outfit everyday for the rest of my life, I would.” I laughed and hoped she didn't think I was too awkward. I then looked over the counter to see her wiggling toes in her sandals. Had I known where my future was, I might've been a more cautious as I continued to talk to her. After a few seconds of looking at them, I noted that her toes looked plump and well taken care of. Her toes were painted a light blue that made it pop from her light skin. She shrugged off my staring at her feet and before I could formulate a response, she left the store, making me think I just made the best customer leave for good. But an hour or so later, she came back and invited me to her place after I got off. That was the last time I would be seen in by my co-workers, friends or really anyone.

 

As I walked into her house, thinking I had gotten myself into the score of the century, I blacked out. When I next woke up, maybe after a few hours, I was a leather boot with her toes right in front of me, playing around as though I wasn’t an actual person a few hours ago. I could hear her laugh as I struggled, but you can’t exactly escape being in a new body. I was a boot to this woman for the rest of my mortal life. I just wanted to die, if I could. 

 

“Don’t panic too much darling. You still have your heart and brain to worry about. If you move around, that’s fine but if you start to panic, well I don’t know what will happen to you. You could die and who will help you like that? Not me for sure.” That disproved my theory that I had almost formed as I felt Amy’s toes wiggle around my ‘face’.  “I know none of my shoes want to die, even if they really want to after months of being used by me.” I remember she then began to stroke the outside of the boot with her hands as well as feet. I found it weird and unsettling that I could feel her fingers go against my leathery skin but at the same time...comforting. “If you die, I won’t keep you around and you’re one of the best looking boots I own right now. I could’ve turned you into anything like a pair of disposable sandals or a pair of wedges but since I loved you so much, I turned you into the most amazing pair of shoes I own now.” She then turned me around to her shoe closet where I saw dozens of different pairs of shoes before me. I could see about six or so very worn sandals, enough some where there were exact footprints of her toes, heels and arches. I had no idea all of these were regular shoes that were inanimate objects or more ordinary people like myself. After that, I blacked out once more from shock.

 

That was the last time she ever talked to me as a boot. I assumed it was like this with the rest of her victims. Where she'd just turn her victims into shoes or maybe even other articles of clothing, talk to them once and then immediately forget that they were even people before they met her. Now with my matching brother/sister, she would occasionally wear me around to attract more collectibles. I would always try to yell at them, whether they were guys or girls, to just run but I could tell that only Amy could only hear my pleas by the way she tried to silence my screams. Not for the victim but her own sanity. She’d always stomp her foot every time I screamed which actually hurt more than I’d care to admit. So now, I just think and as far as I know, Amy can’t hear my thoughts and that gives me some sort of solace.

 

Every time Amy would put her feet in my body, she would always wiggle her toes, make them scrunch around the insole as she put me on yet again. Another agony of my existence as a shoe to Amy was that when she went about her day at the local college, the school I was planning on going to after I paid off my debts but after becoming Amy’s boot, teasing me more. Every time she brought me to the campus, I would cry and it broke me down, bit by bit. Like a river going over a boulder and how it would slowly break it down to a pebble over the centuries. Every defeat or every time she brought me to the college like another drop of water on my boulder. Agonizing yet Amy didn’t care.

 

The more people she added to her collection, the less she acknowledged us as a whole. She wouldn’t talk to me, or any other ‘people’. The silence from her was bittersweet as Amy was my only ‘friend’ as I couldn’t talk to the other shoes but the interaction was enough for me. But the silence from her soon ceased as the day when she brought me along with one of her ‘missions’ I guess I could call them. I had never been a part of these, I’d only seen the aftermath when she brought more people home. Now I could see the other side. Now that I thought about it, the sandals I saw the day I was turned might’ve been yelling at me too. Trying to tell me to run away from this girl as fast and as soon as possible. If only I could’ve heard them.

 

She walked to a small restaurant in the middle of a heat wave. The sweat from her wiggling toes, her massive sole and the pressure as she walked caused me to almost black out multiple times. Like myself, I had no idea what the newest victim of Amy’s was going to be turned into. It was just a matter of what type of shoe she would turn them into. Would she make them into sneakers so she would run in them? Flip flops to go walking around the beach? Maybe even a new pair of boots to replace me and my sibling. I had no idea what Amy would end up doing, I could only imagine the things she was thinking of turning her next victim into.

 

She walked over to a table, sat and started playing with my body with my sibling, making them rub against the outside of my body. It felt weird yet so natural. I couldn’t tell how long I’ve been Amy’s boot. Has it been a week? A month? A whole year? I couldn’t tell how long Amy had kept me like this as I spent most of my time in her closet, trying to talk to the other pairs of shoes. If they were people too and not regular shoes, I might’ve been able to hear them scream out like myself. But to no avail. I couldn’t tell if they were broken and acted like shoes because Amy had worn them so much or maybe I just couldn’t hear their screams. I could only hear my own. Perhaps they were just like me thinking without being able to very much as move a single centimeter of their bodies.

 

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that a waitress came to help Amy and I tried my best to scream out to her but at this point, I was just wasting my energy trying to get people’s attention. Like myself, before me was her black work shoes. Now, I was beginning to suspect that every time Amy would wear me, every time I saw another shoe, I began to think that was another person that person was wearing on their feet. Was this normal? One day you’re a regular person, working nine to five and the next you’re one of a woman’s shoe collection. 

 

I heard Amy make conversation with the waitress, and although I could only see her shoes, she was falling for this monster of a woman. She was crossing her feet as she stood and giving off the tone of voice that she wanted to keep talking to Amy. Eventually, Amy invited the waitress who I now knew was named ‘Robin’ to the bathroom. Amy was a minx wasn’t she? She fooled me and countless other people to transform them into more of her shoes. But, this waitress was different. Robin’s fate wasn’t the same as mine. Her fate wasn’t going to be a sandal for Amy to wear at the beach or sneakers for her to run in on a hot summer day. It was something much, much worse.

 

Chapter End Notes:

So I have an idea for another chapter but I'd love to hear your opinions on if I should continue this little idea that I had one day.

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