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“So are you enjoying my foot inside you, Daniella?” Grace teased. “Don’t you just love how much such a low part of the human body has control over you, it capable to do whatever it wants to you. Whether it steps down on you, teases you, plays with you, you at mercy at its whims.”

“I’m trying my hardest not to tease you, physically at least, so whatever my foot does to you is pure chance. Whether I scrunch my toes on your insole, or I step really hard. I know you’re just loving it as much as I did. At least this time, whoever’s the shoe knows why they’re a shoe.”

“It was quite terrifying to wake to find myself completely unable to move, feeling flat, with a weird taste in my mouth. Even more so when you slipped me on as if I was just a normal shoe to you. I couldn’t fight it so I just had to let it all happen to me.”

“To be forced to absorb your disgusting foot sweat into my insole, to let your funk imbed itself into my very being, to allow myself to be uncaringly crushed by you. I didn’t even know that I was going to be transformed back, but I’m glad you did.”

“Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to get back at you. It would be a shame if I didn’t give you a taste of being underfoot, to be an insignificant shoe, though this time it’s not for a busy woman like yourself. Unlike you, it’s guaranteed that I’m going to give you a bit of rest, I am an office worker after all.”

“Though, when you get those moments there's a fifty percent chance that you’ll be played with, whether I dangle you or scrunch my foot in you. As I said it’s all up to chance, a fact I’m disappointed in. I would love to know exactly what’s happening and how you're feeling but I have to work and all.”

“If I could, I would tease you whenever possible but I don’t have the time nor patience to deal with that. Plus I have to fix all my personal things which you fucked by transforming me into your shoe for a month. And no, that’s not how long you’re going to be my shoe.”

“No, I firmly intend to make you spend the rest of your life as my shoe. To force you to spend all your moments enveloped in my foot funk, to constantly taste my sweat, to have my foot embedded into your body’s memory. After some time though, I’m liable to forget about you.”

“Wouldn’t that be great, the woman who has made your life a living hell unable to remember you? At that point it won’t be long before I donate you, I’m always one to give to those in need. So, until then, bitch, I hope you enjoy life under my foot.”

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