Every Step Of The Way - Pyotr

Every Step of the Way - Pyotr

Shortly before 8 A.M., the backroom was buzzing with conversation. Aaron slipped in through the backdoor and worked his way around a few of the barbers. They were chatting with Kirill, the manager, discussing various topics. Aaron politely made his way to the schedule and saw he would be with Pyotr today, for his fourth day into the new job.

"Pyotr... That's an interesting name," Aaron said to himself, before Maxim bumped into him, "Well, all their names are interesting."

"You must be the insoles," Maxim said, his voice strong and deep, matching his hefty appearance, "I didn't recognize you in your human form."

"Oh, is this guy our new insoles?" another man asked, "Well shit, I missed my chance with you yesterday."

"You must be Danijel," Aaron said, "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," the young man replied, "Thank you for asking."

"You missed a lot yesterday," Maxim said, slapping Aaron on the shoulder, "This guy makes for comfortable insoles."

Danijel nodded, "Next week I'll have my turn with you."

Aaron smiled, truly amused and thankful for such an opportunity, "I look forward to it."

"Alright guys," Kirill said, "Everyone but Aaron needs to be on the floor."

The others wrapped up their activities and strolled out onto the floor, leaving Kirill and Aaron alone in the backroom. Aaron noticed his manager was wearing the white leather slip on shoes from the first day they met. Kirill saw this and grinned.

"Miss being under my soles?" Kirill asked.

Aaron nodded, "It was an enjoyable experience. But I am also curious how your living shoes are working out."

"Great. Still holding together," Kirill replied, wiggling his toes.

The shoes had been a former worker who held Aaron's position before. A bad experience with the person led Kirill to permanently change them into a nice pair of footwear.

"Pyotr won't be in until noon. He closes the shop tonight," Kirill said, "I'd offer you to be inside my shoes for the morning but you'll need your rest before being under him. He wears size 15 footwear and usually has boots on."

"Oh man, another big guy," Aaron responded.

"Not overweight but tall and decently built," Kirill explained, "I am needed on the floor. Transform into the insoles and wait for Pyotr to arrive."

With Kirill's orders, Aaron sat on the bench and concentrated.

***

Right on the dot at noon, Pyotr strolled into the backroom and immediately sat next to Aaron, who rested on the bench as a pair of fresh size 15 insoles. There wasn't much time to assess the situation as the brute of a man yanked off his tall, solid boots and pulled the original insoles out.

Aaron was forcefully grabbed and jammed inside the waiting boots. Masculine musk hit the former human full force as Aaron was shoved into the sweaty caves. Black sock covered feet followed almost immediately and planted firmly across the living cushion.

Pyotr muttered something in Russian and laced up his boots. Then he stood up, applying immense pressure to Aaron. All available surface space was devoted to comforting Pyotr's massive feet, causing instant agony for Aaron.

With overwhelming weight from above and hard treads below, Aaron was the difference in this man's comfort. And dutifully the new employee served as proper foot cushion, even if it hurt with every minute movement.

The already sweaty boots took no time claiming ownership of Aaron's insole bodies. Odor embedded itself while sweat soaked in. The environment was vastly different than Kirill and Maxim's. Aaron felt thankful to not be permanent additions to the boots, even if he was finding some enjoyment through the pain and misery.

The blanket of man feet made good use of his insole forms throughout the afternoon into evening. Customers slowed closer to closing, eventually stopping altogether. For most of the day Pyotr stomped all over Aaron, leaving size 15 imprints across the former human's bodies. Even with no customers around, Pyotr remained on the move, cleaning and prepping the barbershop for the next day.

Absolutely drenched in sweat and saturated in Pyotr's masculine smell by closing time, Aaron was relieved to feel the large man's feet slide out. A wave of cool, fresh air entered the boots. Then Pyotr's fingers dug Aaron out and threw the living insoles on the floor.

The man said nothing to Aaron, though the former human didn't expect it. From what he gathered, Pyotr's English wasn't strong like the others. That didn't matter, though, as feet had one universal language and Aaron understood it loud and clear.

With the original insoles reinstalled and boots laced up, Pyotr stood up and adjusted his footwear for a moment. Then he stepped off, his left boot landing before Aaron. The large man's right boot lifted up in the air and landed squarely on the left living insole, grinding it into the floor as Pyotr passed by and exited the barbershop.

Now the only one left in the shop, Aaron simply laid on the floor, his left insole body withering in pain. For a good hour the foot cushion remained in the same place, with Aaron processing the day. He enjoyed being subjected to Pyotr's feet, no matter how abusive they were. But Aaron also dreaded how his body would feel upon returning to human.

And for that reason, Aaron remained insoles for a little bit longer. Partly afraid of how he would feel but more importantly savoring the sweat, smell and indents left behind by Pyotr's feet...

This is a series and will be denoted by the title ‘Every Step of the Way.’

Story content is original and human produced. Imagery created using Microsoft Bing Image Creator.

Brief Feelings Of Regret

Bruv, you really should ‘av stopped complaining about how bad I smell while you had the chance. I gave enough warnings. The constant ‘dirty chav’ remarks and shit-talk about washing my clothes; that really pissed me off. Don’t bother trying to apologise, it’s too late dunce. Because now, now you’re just a pair of briefs to be wrapped around my smelly fucking arse. Where you belong.

I won’t lie mate; seeing your shocked dumb face as it was stretched out into cheap cotton was real satisfying. The last second plea. The little whimper. Your loud mouth then finally being sewn shut. Watching your toned body turn soft and pliable, hollowing out. Crumpled onto the ground before I dragged you up my legs, filling you up with my buttocks.

I wonder. When did you realise what was happening? That you were turning into plain white underwear? Was it when all your clothes became loose, maybe when the waistband began forming? Heh. Or maybe it was when I stepped into you and your nose was pulled up between my juicy cheeks? That smell you so hated pressed against your skin.

Pretty sure your face is now sucking on my sweaty, stinky rear, gulping at my rank hole. You must have a great unobstructed view of it. Not that you have much choice. Be a good brief and soak it all in, yeah? You’re probably very…absorbent. Because yes, that is your job now. I own you - whether you like it or not. But trust me, you will learn to love it, as my foul stench will be all you know. Right now you might be begging to be changed back, but I bet in a couple of days your numbed mind will be thankful. Praising me while mindlessly huffing at the moist space under my big balls.

I’m gonna wear you out until my overpowering musk has permeated your very being; clinging to every fiber. Making you stink to high hell. So get sniffing, BRIEF.

You wanna know what your label says? No? I don’t fucking care. It says 78% cotton, 22% elastane. That would be the shiny waistband, the waistband with your branded name stitched into the front. Big bold letters in’all bruh. Honestly, it looks pretty fucking based mate. Another basic Calvin for the collection - I remember how much you hated that brand.

Oh ‘aight, the label innit. ‘Size: Small’. That would explain why you cling so tightly up in there. No lie, you feel lush against my skin, against my…hole. Ahem, what else?‘Machine wash’, pfftt. Blud, we both know that ain’t gonna happen for a while. I’m gonna have so much fun breaking you in first. Getting your weak, pitiful - stink addled - mind addicted to your hot-as-fuck chav owner as you become filthy. Owner, that’s right, I’ve scribbled my initials on you; you’re just a piece of simple clothing. MY property.

Fuck man, just thinking of you stuck eating my arse forever has me hard as balls. Mmmm. Yuh, dig right into my dirty fucking crack, taste it. Squirm all you want, squeeze against my stiff cock. I’m gonna bust a fat nut in you; I’m gonna flood what used to be your rear and make you soak it all in. That’s right, feel my dong and balls fill you up, stretch that fabric. Fuck yeah mate, I’m gonna—gonna…ughh. Take it all you cheap fucking brief! Ughh. Fuck!

Noice, my Calvins managed to contain all my cum. Not bad for a first time innit, BRIEF. Damn, stained already though - oh well. Welcome to your new life as my dirty underwear. I think I’ll wear you for the rest of the week. Course when I’m not using you, I’ll ‘air’ you out in your new home, the sock drawer. Yes, that one. The one you constantly used to moan about. Jesus, on and on you went. What was it you said? It stunk like a ‘locker room laundry basket’. When it comes to my grimy feet, that sounds about right. You’ll have all the time in the world to breathe that thick, acrid air in.

Huh. Oh sorry, that was one of my fuckmates messaging me. You don’t mind if he comes over right? You were previously quite adamant about ‘no gay stuff’ in the flat. But think about it, hanging from my thighs you’re gonna have front row seats when I plow him senseless in your bed. The taste of his pussy lingering on my dripping wet cock as I stuff it back inside you.

Phew, after all this butt talk, I need to go to the bathroom - take a dump. Come, let me get you aquatinted with another rank smell. One you’ll quickly become very familiar with. One so strong it’ll burn away your thoughts, melting what remains of your pathetic old identity to stinking mush. I’m right sure that it’ll be your favourite scent in no time. Don’t think so? There’s no point fucking struggling now dipshit, I’m already taking a seat.

Besides, you should be used to it; you always did talk a load of shite anyway. Hahahaha!

Could you transform me into a singlet for the wrestler Robby Smith?

Hope this is what you expected!

#68