Comms open: Commission Sheet

Text:

Lana and Owen were what you’d call a modern couple. Both were queer, in touch with their insides, and open with each other. That and they were both young millennials. However, that wasn’t exactly why they were modern. It all came down to their use of TF powder.

Ever since they got together, they have used it. It all started small, only using it in bed together. However, after the time Lana kept him as her bra for the day, well, their use of it began to increase. It got to a point where more often than not, one of the two was the other's clothes.

For the most part, they became rather nice clothes for each other. Shirts, pants, underwear, and so on, forms which they’d enjoy being. Although, like every couple, they weren’t immune to arguments. During those moments, whoever made the other mad got punished.

Lana was experiencing said punishment. What she did to make Owen mad wasn’t really important; all that mattered was that it caused him to transform her into his socks. It was a form that she felt no enjoyment in.

She had quite an aversion to feet. As such, she was disgusted by being his socks, even though she was being worn by her boyfriend. There was just no joy in being a pair of socks. For one, she was forced to taste his feet in detail.

His slightly dirty soles were overwhelming her ‘taste buds.’ What made it worse was that she could also feel some of the dirt and debris pressing into her cotton bodies. Alongside the taste of his feet and the dirt on them, she could also taste his foot sweat.

The intensely salty liquid made her ‘taste buds’ feel dried out as every droplet was tasted and absorbed by her fabric. In addition to all the flavors, she was forced to inhale the musk of his feet. Thankfully, it wasn’t as bad as the taste, but the longer she was worn, the worse it got.

All of this was just gross and made her feel worthless. Especially with how he was treating her. From the moment Owen had put her on, she had been treated as nothing but a pair of socks. In her current condition, that was all she’d be. 

As far as she knew, she’d be this way for a while. He never told her how long she’d be in this form, so she might be a pair of socks for a day or maybe even a week. It was hard to tell, though, with how mad she made him, she was leaning toward the latter option.

The end of the day came and she was unceremoniously peeled off his feet. Without so much as a glance at her, Owen dropped her into their laundry basket, with his other clothes following suit. Lana just hoped that she’d be washed soon. 

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