Come on.
Who wouldn't want socks fresh out of a boot~

Can I post stories here? Well it's my channel so why not~
Am sure there are a couple of mistakes dotted about, but content is content

“Well would you look at you, nice and small and all mine for a few hours”
A hand reaches towards you. Fingers closing with a firm grip, tight enough to make getting a full breath a struggle while the thick smell of male arousal almost steams from the digits gives you a good idea of where the hand has just been

your view point spun around against your will as that hand twists and you're facing an impossibly large computer monitor. But the concerning thing is your past chats with the giant holding you, all those lewd late night musings and teases slowly scrolling past.

“oooh that's a good one, remember that” that wasn't a question, the cursor on screen highlights a section of one of your sent messages, the blue highlighting box almost perfectly matching your reading speed. Detailing how you'd long to be a couple of inches tall, pressed under one of your captors socks for hours upon hours, how you'd want them to wear those socks for days or weeks before getting under them, your desire to spend every waking hour at those feet, the sleeping hours spent stuffed into a shoe... with one of those socks stuffed into the opening. How you'd always be hard from that oppressive smell that'd fill every breath you take.

You don't have time to read any further as the screen zooms out, the sound of computer chair wheels spinning over hard wood fills the ears. You're still rocked to the core, you were just chatting to this person...
'what the hell is happening!'

your ex-online exclusive friend gives a knowing smirk down to you along with a playful smirk, you hear a thump below. Your stomach lurching upwards as you're very quickly lowered down into the darkness under the computer desk looking down you have a twisted sense of deja-vu, the scuffed floor, slight clutter of wires near the wall, those feet covered in off white socks with tattered shoes resting on their sides towards the back, you've seen it in teasing photos many times

but now... you smell it, much stronger than you ever dreamed of in those lewd fantasies, you can feel how the air carries a muggy-ness that that makes you sweat. You're at crotch level now, you look up at the smug look and it makes you shudder, you can hear the fabric of the giant's trousers strain to contain very apparent hard on trapped inside... that'd explain the smell on the fingers around you

weightlessness, you're falling... no, you've been dropped, like a toy, a thing. That's what you are now it seems
Impact. The air is knocked from your lungs as you crumple onto the hard floor, unharmed till you take a panicked inhale. First one makes you choke up slightly. The strongest smell of socks you've ever had the pleasure to sample rushes to welcome you to their world, there is no other way to describe it than heavy, oppressive... commanding in the way it keeps you on your knees gasping.

Eyes now adjust, you remember asking them to wear these white socks a while ago but now they are anything other than white the toes flex and wiggle and you're mesmerised by those toes covered in that dirtied fabric that clings to the toes.

“enjoy it!”
you shoot your eyes up, the figure over you now a simple silhouette that leans forward a sound to your side startles you but before you even have a chance to respond you're shoved over by a rough warm wall of fabric. Landing on your back with a thump you raise arms to try and defend yourself... but it's useless, that sole presses down on top of you.


Many days ago maybe that fabric would have been warm, sock and somewhat comforting but now it's rough, still damp having apparently just came out of a shoe and the heat makes that obvious. It's like a sauna. The foot shoves down firmly, taking your breath away and causing you to take a sharp inhale again but this time those thick sock covered toes clench over your head and stay there. You thrash, writhe and squirm as you struggle to pull in air but all you manage is a small amount of foot saturated haze.

The toes relent the sole lifts back up and you suck in the air even if it's like sucking in soup. You hear a chuckle high above along with the clacking of a mechanical keyboard, you command your body to move, escape, hide away but nothing comes other than a low moan, your body already battered.

Those toes give a mocking wiggle overhead as if asking 'ready for round two'... this isn't the awful part, no that comes when you manage to lift your head to look downwards. The ceiling of curved socked sole lowering the further away it is till meeting the floor at the heel, it's at that moment you see your raging hard on throbbing into the air proudly... eager for more.