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Description
Words;

Idle chatter. Green Grass. A feeling of unfulfilled purpose and anxiety. You were empty. Those were your only thoughts now. Warmth and fulfillment, or Cold and dread of loss. Your sight moved from your stationary position. What was once eyes, a face and a person was now a flat left sandal. Marks of years of use adorning it, a symbol of atonement maybe. Of servitude or of resignment.

Laid flat with no ability of movement, what was once a tongue was just a slip of leather. Stained and abused, but it was only a fair trade off for the owner of them to continue on with their feet unmolested from the hard ground. What was once arms and legs mangled into straps, an ever present reminder as it sometimes blocked your sight from whatever interesting came to a dainty old sandal.

“He’s growing up so fast isn’t he Alan? 12 and already this good, he’ll make it to be a pro for sure!”

That line stuck out. Not only the voice behind it but the contents. Suddenly you felt a jolt which surely would have made you jump if you were human. You were painfully dragged back into reminiscence. What you had referred to as your owner and fulfiller was once your girlfriend and wife-to-be. Those last few days of freedom leading up to your odd idea for a gift made you shiver and want to scream.

The Witch that had promised you once she had worn you once, the spell would wear off, none the wiser. You just wanted to experience it once! It was an ever present fantasy. Those words burned into your mind. “Her favourite pair.” Little did you know this would be a permanent affair. And the transformation would carry over from shoe to shoe. One day you even switched six times inside a shoe store as she tried on new pairs, and then the pair she walked home in. On the night of transformation, you found yourself as a Heel, stuck in a small cupboard for minutes, to hours, to days. You sure were her “favourites”. Her favourite heels that was. And seen as you disappeared they stayed absent for months.

Your first day back into reality was being brought out on their first date. The man she sat next to now, the son she was watching play. The feet dangling above you, the ever present taste of sweat and grime. Years of use as she had settled in to housewivery. She wore you everywhere at this point.

Just as much as you had startled and began to panic, you quickly resigned back into shoe-thought, and watched as those toes playfully wiggled, and soon she sunk her foot back into you. Fulfilled and warm again. You happily provided a soft cushion with your tongue. For years and eternity to come.

Description
Words;

Idle chatter. Green Grass. A feeling of unfulfilled purpose and anxiety. You were empty. Those were your only thoughts now. Warmth and fulfillment, or Cold and dread of loss. Your sight moved from your stationary position. What was once eyes, a face and a person was now a flat left sandal. Marks of years of use adorning it, a symbol of atonement maybe. Of servitude or of resignment.

Laid flat with no ability of movement, what was once a tongue was just a slip of leather. Stained and abused, but it was only a fair trade off for the owner of them to continue on with their feet unmolested from the hard ground. What was once arms and legs mangled into straps, an ever present reminder as it sometimes blocked your sight from whatever interesting came to a dainty old sandal.

“He’s growing up so fast isn’t he Alan? 12 and already this good, he’ll make it to be a pro for sure!”

That line stuck out. Not only the voice behind it but the contents. Suddenly you felt a jolt which surely would have made you jump if you were human. You were painfully dragged back into reminiscence. What you had referred to as your owner and fulfiller was once your girlfriend and wife-to-be. Those last few days of freedom leading up to your odd idea for a gift made you shiver and want to scream.

The Witch that had promised you once she had worn you once, the spell would wear off, none the wiser. You just wanted to experience it once! It was an ever present fantasy. Those words burned into your mind. “Her favourite pair.” Little did you know this would be a permanent affair. And the transformation would carry over from shoe to shoe. One day you even switched six times inside a shoe store as she tried on new pairs, and then the pair she walked home in. On the night of transformation, you found yourself as a Heel, stuck in a small cupboard for minutes, to hours, to days. You sure were her “favourites”. Her favourite heels that was. And seen as you disappeared they stayed absent for months.

Your first day back into reality was being brought out on their first date. The man she sat next to now, the son she was watching play. The feet dangling above you, the ever present taste of sweat and grime. Years of use as she had settled in to housewivery. She wore you everywhere at this point.

Just as much as you had startled and began to panic, you quickly resigned back into shoe-thought, and watched as those toes playfully wiggled, and soon she sunk her foot back into you. Fulfilled and warm again. You happily provided a soft cushion with your tongue. For years and eternity to come.