Inanimatefan1 - Inanimate TF

Did not go as planned (Collage roommate Sneaker TF Story)

My roommate Tyler like new sneakers, i was dying to know what it was like to be his sneaker, so when he left the room to go to the bathroom, i transformed into a pair of sleek, brand-new sneakers, for him, nothing will go wrong, i thought.

My perspective has radically shifted; seeing the room from the sneaker's point of view and him coming out of the bathroom. I feel Tyler's feet coming closer, and before I know it, his socks are slipping into me. It's a weird feeling, not unpleasant, but I am suddenly very aware of how sweaty and smelly feet can get. I can't move or express any emotion, but internally I'm both thrilled and apprehensive.

"Wow, these feel great!" Tyler exclaims, oblivious to the fact that his new kicks are actually his friend, me, transformed. He ties the laces, securing his feet snugly within me.

That's when I notice Tyler reaching for a marker on the table. He uncaps it and scribbles something on the sneakers tongue. I feel a slight tickling sensation but can't see what he's written. Instinctively, I know that Tyler's just marked me as his property. My heart sinks, realizing the gravity of what that might mean for my ability to change back. I frantically focus, trying to muster the energy to revert to my original form. But nothing happens. I'm stuck, and the panic begins to set in. My situation worsens as I remember Tyler's reputation for making his belongings quickly smelly and worn out. I'm about to become one of those belongings, I think to myself, but all I can do is "exist" as a pair of his sneakers.Tyler starts walking around, and I can feel his weight pressing down with each step. The warmth and moisture from his feet start to make me feel more and more like a regular pair of sneakers, and less like Josh trapped in this form.

Finally, Tyler heads to his friends college dorm room, where he meets up with some friends, notorious for their messy habits. They're impressed with Tyler's new sneakers, giving them a few admiring glances, completely unaware that I am those sneakers. Tyler kicks me off, throwing me casually into a corner where I land next to other worn-out shoes and discarded clothes. The smell is overwhelming, a cocktail of sweat, dirt, and who knows what else. As I lie there, waiting for what comes next, a sinking feeling washes over me. Tyler and his friends start a video game marathon, and I know it's going to be a long night. Even worse, Tyler's got a track meet tomorrow, and I've got a front-row seat—or perhaps more accurately, a foot-row seat. All I can do now is be the best pair of sneakers I can be, because for the foreseeable future, that's all I am. And as much as I'd like to change back, it looks like I'm stuck in this form for a while—Tyler's smelly, well-worn sneakers. And there I am, Josh, trapped as a pair of sneakers with no way to communicate or revert to my original form, subjected to whatever Tyler and his college buddies have in store for me.

Over the course of several weeks, I come to realize that my efforts to transform back are futile. Each day, Tyler's activities—whether it's a long run, a gym workout, or simply walking around campus—intensify the smell inside me. Initially, the stench was overpowering and unpleasant, but a strange thing starts to happen as the days pass. With every wear, the scent permeates me more deeply, and I find myself becoming increasingly disoriented yet oddly calm. It's as if Tyler's distinctive smell has become a potent aroma that affects my very essence. I become more accustomed to the smell, and the sharp edges of my previous panic and anxiety start to blur. As Tyler slips his feet into me day after day, something within me starts to change. What was once a nauseating odor has become, inexplicably, comforting. I feel more attuned to Tyler's rhythm and routine. It's like I'm enveloped in a sensory haze, somewhat akin to a high. When he takes me off at the end of the day and tosses me into the smelly corner of his room, I no longer dread it; I actually look forward to joining that pungent pile of worn clothes and old shoes. After a few weeks of this, I find myself in an almost zen-like state whenever Tyler wears me. My earlier thoughts of changing back into my human form have all but vanished. It's as if Tyler's smell has a hypnotic quality, grounding me in this new existence. And so, I find a strange form of peace in my new life as a pair of sneakers, completely intoxicated by Tyler's scent. My worries, my former life, and even my sense of self become distant memories. I'm not just a pair of sneakers; I'm Tyler's sneakers, and strangely enough, that has become my entire world. I don't know if I'll ever change back, or even if I want to. For now, I'm oddly content, basking in the heady atmosphere of Tyler's college life. And so, I continue to exist, half-aware and half-lost in a fragrant fog, a small but integral part of Tyler's world.

I can't imagine anything better than being Tyler's smelly sneaker…

First part of at least 4 parts.

I caught you staring at my feet In the gym dude. You should know any guy who looks at my feet becomes obsessed...so obsessed they never leave my feet. So come and sniff dude. You're new life awaits you.

Thats right kiss my soles. Feel your body give into their musk, feel your mind melt into submission, and feel your skin beginning to get softer.

God your pathetic, most guys try and fight a little. Not you though, you're so into my feet you're willing to just give up everything for them. That's good though, it means you're gonna make an amazing obedient sock.

The guy on my other foot here, he was my roommate. One night I caught him at the end of my bed smelling my feet. On the spot I snapped my fingers and he was wrapped around my feet for the rest of his life.

Dude did that make you harder? Oh my god you're so weak. I love it. Suck on my toes for a little. Because soon I'll do the same to you. One snap and boom your old life is over and your new life as my sock begins.

I think it's time, time for you to only smell my foot for the rest of your life. Time for my foot to give your life purpose. Time for you absorb every bit of sweat and musk my foot gives you.

Time to become my little obedient sock permanently.

Snap