You spend the rest of the hour alternating between slowly rocking and planted on the ground, but that's about it; you're a sock being worn by a girl, there's nothing for you to do. You can't even understand the lesson that's being taught. All you can do is look around at the boys and girls in the classroom. Or to be more accurate, the legs and feet of the boys and the girls in the classroom.
So it goes until a bell rings, and the girl gets up and walks on to her next class, each step sending that combination of pain and pleasure through you. And then she sits down in a new room, and it's the same. The only thing that's changed is that you feel slightly more damp, and the foot you surround tastes and smells a bit more pungent; not disgusting, but not pleasant, either.
You have just about resigned yourself to this as your existence for the rest of the day after the girl gets up again. She walks to her locker, opens it, and puts books inside, and closes it. A bit odd that she doesn't take any out, but whatever. Then she walks down the hall and enters a room....
It takes you a moment to figure out what the heck you're looking at. When you do, you groan internally. There are a series of towers that you realize are gym lockers, and a series of skyscraper-sized girls in various states of undress. You try to close your eyes but you don't have any; all you can do is drop your gaze into the shoe, which works only for a few seconds until the girl kicks them off.
The girl's locker is up high enough that you don't have a good view of what she's grabbing. A few moments later, she removes some clothing to change -- but what clothing is it?
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.22 seconds at 3:39am on Dec 29, 2024 via server WEBX1.