#inanimate sneakers

[inanimatefan1]

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.

[tf-kinky]

"There's almost nothing better than turning a guys boyfriend into shoes and his brother into socks and making him huff them both, immediately deciding he doesn't want either of them back. The betrayal his boyfriend must be feeling at his boyfriend huffing his insole form, and the disbelief his brother is feeling right now"

Noah laughed and enjoyed the guy huffing his boyfriend and brother a lot, totally addicted to what Noah did to his boyfriend and brother.

"Thats it, keep huffing your ex and your brother that's it. Good foot whore"

[pup-jaxx]

Your boyfriend left one day without saying a thing, but he forgot you could see all his messages on your tablet. Looking true them you noticed he had a date. furiously you start looking that dude up, once you found him you start ranting wanting to know we’re your boyfriend is, he calmly said he’s with him and if you want him back you need to come over. As you storm inside you see him sitting there, a big strong alpha guy his big feet covered in dirty smelly socks right in your point of view. As you get closer saying you want your bf back he just laughed taking his tn in one hand and your face in the other overpowering you in a second. You can’t stop yourself taking a big sniff as the smell of his tn is so strong, your body immediately starts transforming as you fall in a pile of your own clothes. He takes your clothes and throws them aside, looming over you with his big feet it comes closer as he pushes it in your new sneaker body. Well you wanted to know we’re your boyfriend is now your gonna be together forever!

#picmadebyafriend

[anon-sect]

"Your shoes really reek, dude. You need to air them out." Lenny complains to his roommate in his dorm room. Nick had been his roommate for the past three years at college. Somehow, they kept being put together each time. Each year, he had to put up with his foul-smelling running shoes. Nick was a 6'5" tall athlete jock on the college track team. He was running at least 7 miles just about every day. The odor from his favorite running pair was so pungent.

"They are my favorite to run in. And I am not changing them. So deal with it." Nick told him as he went to his next class, leaving the foul sneakers behind.

Lenny had enough of them. So he put them in a trash bag. He went to the garbage shot in the hallway and shoved them down the pipe. He was satisfied that he didn't have to smell them anymore.

While Lenny was napping, he was awoken by Nick. "You seen my running shoes? I can't find them." He was asked. He thought about lying to him, but the truth would come out eventually. "I threw them in the garbage shot. If you want them, you can go looking in the basement." He spoke as he turned over to ignore him to go back to napping.

Nick was upset. He really loved those shoes. What Lenny didn't know was that those sneakers were special. They were once a former human who used to bully him in the neighborhood. He turned him into sneakers to punish him. He loved torturing his former bully with his feet. Now, he needed a new replacement pair. Since Lenny decided to chunk his shoes without telling him first, he knew whom to replace his favorite pair of running shoes with.

Nick grabbed his TF device from his backpack and put in the setting for sneakers. He pointed at Lenny. With one flash, Lenny was reduced to a new pair of running sneakers. He picked them up to examine them. He pressed on the insoles. They seemed even better than his previous favorite.

Lenny instantly awoke to feel a change. He found himself split in half and in a different form. He felt fingers pressing down on his face. "You got rid of my favorite pair of running shoes. I really loved running on the bully that used to torment me in my neighborhood back home. That guy was a good pair of sneakers. But now you have to replace him. You will be my new favorite running sneakers. This is the consequence of throwing that other guy away without knowing the full truth." He heard Nick speak to him and laughed. The foul sneakers used to be a person all this time, and he chunk him like a common object. Now, this was his fate. He tried screaming for help but lacked any vocal ability. He couldn't even move on his own. He felt Nick place him on the floor. He had a sick feeling of what was coming next.

Nick placed his new running sneakers on the floor. He grabbed a pair of socks he wore for three days straight. He quickly sniffed them and saw the stench was horrible. The thought of Lenny having to deal with that made him smile. He put the stinky socks on his feet and put on his new favorite sneakers without a single care about Lenny.

Lenny would have gagged if he had a physical mouth. The socks that were now pressing down on his face was so foul, it smelled like something died in it. Next came the being walked on part. Each step felt like a building crushing him over and over. He could feel the floor and ground beneath him as though his back was being ground into it. He thought it couldn't get worse till Nick started running. He was in constant pain and agony feeling the ground beneath him and the foul stench of the socks bearing down on his insole face. As Nick continued to run on his usual nine-mile run, the socks began to get sweaty. The sweat combined with the stench saturated the inside of the sneakers. He now had no way to escape from the smell.

Nick returned back to the dorm room after his run. It was a little weird having it all to himself now. But he loved his new favorite sneakers. They were way better than the previous ones. He was glad those were gone. Lenny was a great replacement. If anyone asked about his roommate, he would tell them he didn't know where he was. Besides, no one would believe that he was turned into a pair of sneakers anyway. "You were excellent on my run. I am looking forward to running in you nearly every day. If anyone asks about you, I will not know where you went. Thanks for chunking those other shoes. You are much better than them." He told his shoes as he went to go take a shower. He loved that his new shoes already had his foot stench. It should be a badge of honor for Lenny to smell like his feet on day one.

Lenny regretted getting rid of the other sneakers. Had he known that he would be replacing them, he would have just suck it. Now his fate was the same as the other guy. He was Nick's sneakers, and no one would be the wiser.

[kimochydra]

[gayvkul99]

[smile-files]

natural wavy hair vs rich kid perm

[yourdarkstuff]

Favorite Pair

Corey and Zex were pretty close friends, always there for each other, and being there when the other needed something, but what Corey didn’t know was that Zex had an ability to turn living things into inanimate objects. Corey and Zex had been hanging out in front of Corey’s house, when Zex decided he was going to take off his Converse, to air out his feet. When all of sudden the back of his Converse ripped.

Zex gave Corey a look saying, hey bro you mind helping me out, I can’t go walking around like this. Corey gave Zex a blank stare and replied, What do you expect me to do? I don't have any in your size, you know your feet are bigger than mine. Zex then sighed and said, well I could make you a pair, if it’s cool with you bro, you do still owe for that secret I kept about your little foot obsession. Corey began to shush Zex stating, fine you win just make it quick. Zex smiled great dude you’ll be my new favorite pair, I can already see it, I hope you’re comfortable for me. Zex then touched Corey, as Corey felt a surge course through his body, Zex then said, now we wait for the results, oh forgot to mention this is permanent so I hope you enjoy this, what am I saying of course you will, especially since you get to be on my feet all day, as Zex waved his foot over Corey, as Corey began to shrink down.

Zex began admiring his work, wow bro loving the look, you’re gonna be a classic style all black from what it seems, can’t wait to wear you. Corey begins to split as his body is ripped in half, but he feels no pain while this occurs, Corey then begins to hollow out on the inside and begin to form the signature black converse high-top style. Corey is astounded by what he has become, nothing but his best friend's new converse. Zex came and picked up Corey admiring his work you came out perfect, now try you on, as Zex slides Corey on his feet, wow your surprisingly comfortable I should have done this a long time ago, hope you enjoy your new life, as Zex goes back to sitting down outside of Corey’s house, whos owner now hangs at the end of Zex’s legs as property himself.

Zex then says, yeah you’re definitely my favorite pair.

Got some real positive feedback on my other story so I figured I'll make another, enjoy.

[crystalleoi]

yeag

[dendrilart]

[inanimatefan1]

Mall sneaker fascination

Mall sneaker fascination

Josh had always been an observer. Working in a shop at the mall gave him ample opportunities to watch people come and go. But among the throngs of shoppers, one guy stood out. This guy always wore the most exceptional sneakers Josh had ever seen. Mesmerized, Josh began to notice a pattern in the guy's visits and his sneaker purchases. Driven by a strange mix of curiosity and envy, Josh hatched a plan. He discovered the exact sneaker model that the guy had recently ordered. After order online a bottle of TF fluid, Josh transformed himself into that very sneaker. As soon as Josh's transformation was complete, the familiar weight of the guy's foot pressed down on him. The forces pulling and pushing with every step made Josh's new form tense and flex. The guy's foot, snug against Josh's inner lining, produced warmth, which soon turned into sweat. Josh, now the sneaker, absorbed it, feeling the dampness spread. And then came the smell – a mix of leather from the shoe and the distinct odor of feet. But there was something intoxicating about the experience. The intimacy of being so close, of bearing the weight and movements, was different from anything Josh had ever felt. It was personal, immersive, and in a strange way, liberating. Days passed, and with each, the boundary between Josh the person and Josh the sneaker seemed to blur. He felt connected, tethered to the life of the man who wore him. The sounds of his live, the conversations, the rhythm of steps – all became a symphony that Josh relished.

However, as time wore on, the reality set in. The initial excitement faded, replaced by a growing desperation. Josh hadn’t planned on how to return to his human form. He was trapped. Every crease, every speck of dirt, every footprint became a reminder of his predicament. But as the days turned into weeks, Josh made peace with his new reality. The sensation, the intimacy, the symphony of sounds – he didn't want to give it up. At least for now, Josh decided to remain the sneaker, living a life so distinct from the one he once knew. And who knows? Maybe one day, he'd find a way back. Or perhaps, he'd choose not to.

In the beginning, the scent was subtle – a gentle musk that reminded Josh of new shoe leather mixed with a hint of foot odor. For Josh, now transformed into a sneaker, it was a novel experience. The fragrance was an intimate note, a testament to his bond with Michael, whose foot he cradled.

But as the days went on, the odor began to intensify. What was once a light musk transformed into a powerful, pungent aroma. It became a mix of sweat, grime, and the wear of daily life. Every step Michael took, every puddle he stepped in, and every humid day added layers to the ever-growing scent. Josh, unable to move or escape, felt the weight of his decision pressing down on him, much like the weight of Michael´s foot. The smell became overwhelming, permeating every fiber of his being. There was no respite, no moment of fresh air. Just the constant, stifling aroma. It became a sensory prison. Each day, as the scent grew stronger, the line between pleasure and discomfort blurred. Josh yearned for a breath of fresh air, a momentary release from the suffocating scent. But he was trapped, with no way to break free. The aroma, which had once been a symbol of his adventurous spirit, now became a reminder of his predicament. He was bound by his own choices, ensnared in a world of overpowering scent with no way out. Though he had embraced the experience at first, the relentless onslaught of the odor made him long for his old life. But how could he revert to his human form? Was there a way out of this fragrant prison? Time seemed to slow, every moment stretching longer under the weight of the scent. All Josh could hope for was a reprieve, a chance to break free from the aromatic chains that bound him.

Each day was a testament to Josh's resilience. With every step Michel took, every flex of his foot, Josh felt the strain on his fabric, the wear on his sole. He could sense the material thinning, the protective barriers breaking down. The inescapable odor was a constant reminder of the passage of time and his impending fate. Sometimes, during the quiet moments when Michel would rest on a bench or take a moment to tie his laces, Josh would reflect on his existence. From the bright, shiny days at the store, where he was admired by all, to the slow degradation under Michel's ownership. The thought of ending up discarded, forgotten, was a looming shadow over his existence. He imagined the dark, cramped confines of a wardrobe, pushed to the back, overshadowed by newer, shinier sneakers. Every once in a while, light would penetrate the dark corner, a fleeting moment of hope. But soon, even that light would be eclipsed by the weight of neglect. Worse yet was the thought of ending up in the trash. Cast aside, deemed unworthy, and left to rot in a landfill, amongst the detritus of other forgotten objects. The thought was unbearable. For someone who had once walked the bustling corridors of the mall, feeling the thrill of the world beneath him, this seemed a cruel twist of fate.

The irony wasn't lost on Josh. In his quest to experience life from a new perspective, he had inadvertently trapped himself in a cycle of degradation and neglect. Every morning, as Michel's foot slid into him, Josh braced himself, hoping to endure another day, to stay intact a little longer. As the days passed, Josh's thoughts shifted from escape to acceptance. He began to find solace in the memories of his time as a sneaker, the unique sensations, and experiences he'd had. The pain of wear and tear, the overpowering odor, they all became badges of his journey, of a life lived fully, albeit differently. In the end, all he hoped for was a dignified farewell, a gentle acknowledgment of the miles they'd walked together, the adventures they'd shared. And perhaps, just perhaps, a quiet corner in Michel's home where he could rest, reminisce, and slowly fade into oblivion.

The day had an aura of finality. The leather was cracked, the sole almost worn through, and the laces frayed. The once vibrant sneaker, where Josh resided, now seemed a mere shadow of its former self. Michel glanced at the sneakers, noticing the undeniable signs of wear, and decided it was time to let them go. As Michel gathered his household waste, Josh braced himself. He felt a gentle hand grasp him, felt the pressure as he was squeezed into a black trash bag. The surroundings were immediately dark, oppressive. All around him, the muffled sounds of discarded objects, the residual remnants of meals, and the weight of other waste bore down on him. It was a strange sensation, being amidst the discarded remains of someone's life. Every once in a while, a stray ray of light would pierce the darkness, illuminating the confines of his prison. But those moments were fleeting, and the oppressive darkness would return. The journey to the dumpster was brief, but it felt like an eternity to Josh. Every jostle, every movement was a stark reminder of his plight. And then, the finality of it all hit him as he felt the trash bag being tossed, landing with a soft thud amidst other discarded remnants. The environment inside the dumpster was stifling. The combination of odors – rotting food, old items, and the unmistakable scent of decay – was overpowering. But amidst the stench, the overpowering smell of the sneaker seemed to blend in, becoming one with the surroundings. Despite the grim surroundings, Josh tried to hold on to the memories, the times when he walked the mall's floors, the sensation of every step, the bond he'd felt with Michel. They were now cherished fragments of a life once lived. In the hallowed confines of the dumpster, amidst the discarded remnants of many lives, Josh awaited his fate. Whether it was to be part of a landfill, recycled, or perhaps, in some twist of fate, rescued, he did not know. But he took solace in the experiences he'd had, the unique journey he'd undertaken. For in the end, life was about the journey, the experiences, and the stories, even if one's existence ended up in the quiet confines of a dumpster.

The days inside the dumpster seemed to blur together. Each day, more trash bags were dumped, piling atop one another. With every new addition, Josh felt the weight increase, pressing down on him, squeezing the life out of the sneaker. The once roomy confines of the dumpster became tighter, more oppressive. The mingling odors became more pungent. Rotting food, discarded items, old fabrics, and a host of other discarded remnants created an aroma that was almost suffocating. Yet, in this environment, the worn-out sneaker with its overpowering scent seemed almost at home, blending in with the surrounding decay. Time seemed to lose meaning for Josh. The moments of daylight that occasionally pierced through the layers of trash became rarer. The weight above him continued to increase, making every moment an exercise in endurance. Then, one day, a change. There was a rumble, a vibration that resonated through the entire container. Suddenly, the dumpster was lifted, its contents shifting, causing Josh to be further pressed into the compacted waste. The movement was swift, and before he could comprehend it fully, there was a powerful force, a massive compression.

The compactor was ruthless. It pressed down, squeezing every inch of space, crushing the contents within. Josh felt an intense pressure, a force unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Every fiber, every thread, every bit of cushioning in the sneaker was compressed, squeezed, and flattened. And then, as quickly as it began, it was over. The world around Josh went silent. The pressure, the weight, the odors – everything became still. The journey, which had begun in a shop at the mall, culminated in this final moment of compression.

In this stillness, a strange serenity enveloped Josh. The memories, the sensations, the unique experiences all flashed before him. From the vibrant days in the store to the daily grind under Michel's feet, and finally, the oppressive days in the trash. Each memory was a testament to a life lived fully, albeit in a form most would never understand.

Josh's heart raced as he bolted upright, his sheets tangled around him. The pale morning light filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow over the room. The familiar surroundings of his bedroom stood in stark contrast to the oppressive darkness and weight of the dumpster he'd just been in. He touched his face, feeling the sweat that had gathered on his brow, and took a deep, shuddering breath. The memories of the dream – being a sneaker, the mall, Michel's steps, the unbearable stench, the crushing weight – were all so vivid, so real. Shaking his head, he tried to dispel the remnants of the nightmare. The sheets were damp with his sweat, bearing witness to the intensity of the dream. With trembling hands, he took a sip of water from the glass on his nightstand, trying to ground himself back to reality. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared down at his own feet, feeling an unexpected wave of relief. "Just a dream," he whispered to himself. But the level of detail, the emotions, the sensations – they felt too real to be mere figments of his imagination. As the day progressed, Josh found it hard to shake off the memories of the dream. Every shoe he saw, every step he took, brought back flashes of his surreal experience. He was more appreciative of his own feet, his own shoes, the freedom of movement.

That night, as he prepared for bed, he hesitated for a moment before placing his sneakers in the closet. A brief shiver ran down his spine. Gently, he placed them side by side, giving them a pat of appreciation. With a wry smile, he thought, "Better treat them well, just in case."

[tf-kinky]

Hudson laughed looking at the two guys who thought they were meeting up for a good shoe sniff and lick session. But it wasn't long after they met up with Hudson that they realised what was gonna happen.

"You boys gonna be the newest addition to my trainer collection"

And just like that he zapped them both with his TF phone app and BAM! Both were turned into a pair of trainers each.

Hudson made sure to wear them both throughly. Taking turns using them each day, really imprinting his foot on their face insoles, constantly getting damp, sweaty and their insoles molding round his big sweaty feet.

It was about a year later when Hudson sold both pairs off to a fan on Instagram, and damn the fan really used them, even blasted many loads in the insoles and wore them regularly.

I would tell you the names of the two guys but if Hudson can't remember, neither can I! 😈😈😈😈

Search hudson.sbr on Instagram for some hot trainers/socks content!

[pup-jaxx]

You thought you were so lucky wen that hot scaly dude from across the street asked you to come over, you just didn’t realize he wanted a new pair of sneakers not a boy to fuck around with…

#madebyafriend

[anon-sect]

I’d do anything to get close to my gym crush’s feet, could you give me a little help?

Picture source: @paketemusculomorbo

Quinton worked out nearly every day at his favorite gym, and he kept noticing this one guy, always looking his direction but never bothering to come greet him. This attention went on for almost two months straight. He thought about going to another gym, but the guy might follow him there. Since the guy was to shy to come say hi, he would break the ice himself.

"What's up?" Quinton went over and spoke. The guy was sort of silent for a few seconds, probably because of the shock that he came over and spoke with him.

Greg was caught by surprise. "Oh, hi." He didn't know what else to say for a brief moment.

"Listen, I have been noticing you looking my way for a while. I thought I would end your nervousness. The name is Quinton, and yours." He saw that the guy was getting less uneased by now.

"Oh, I am Greg. Nice to meet you." He spoke back, seeing that his gym crush was actually kind of nice.

"Nice to meet you as well, Greg. Well, I will get back to my workout session, I just wanted to say hi." Quinton spoke as he went back to the machine he was previously at. He then noticed the rubber in his favorite shoes came loss. This was no good. Sadly, he didnt' have another pair with him. He went back over to Greg.

"Hey, could you help me with something, buddy?" Quinton asked. He saw Greg's face light up like a supernove when he asked that question.

Sure, anything." Greg quickly answered without even knowing what the request was. He followed him back to the locker room, which was surprisingly empty. He saw Quinton smiling at that. He saw him pull out his phone. With a quick snap of the camera, his whole reality changed. He found himself completely immobile with a limited view. HIs body was split in two, and each half had a solid form.

Quinton picked up the brand new shoes. They looked great. He took off his old shoes and threw them in the trash. "Sorry about this. I know we just officially met, but my old shoes are just too ruined for me to continue to work out. I needed you to be my shoes for now. I really do appreciate this." He put the shoes on his feet and went back out to finish his session. The new shoes felt way better than his old favorite pair. He could easily work out without his feet hurting now.

Greg didn't know if he was dreaming or if it was reality. He was literally being worn on his gym crush feet. The socks were already sweaty and smelled slightly. It was also painful with each step under his feet. Being shoes was quite a painful experience, not to mention sweaty and stinky. Yet, he was still loving every moment of it. He really didn't mind his gym crush using him as his shoes.

Quinton finished his nearly two hour workout. He snapped a quick picture of himself with his new shoes. He loved how they looked on his feet. He decided he would keep them. He hoped the guy didn't mind being his sneakers for a long time.

Quinton went back to the lockroom, grabbed his bag, and went to his car. Once back at his car, he took one sneaker off. "My old pair seem like they were too far gone, but I have found a new replacement for my favorite sneakers. It's you. I don't know if this is something you would want, or if you dispise me for wearing you." He paused as he thought about it. "Honestly, you don't have any choice in your life anymore. You are just my new favorite shoes now. Don't worry, I will take good care of you for sure. My last pair lasted me for years, you wil be mine forever." He put the shoe back on his foot and drove back home to take a shower.

Greg was so happy to hear what came of his fate. Quinton could wear him forever for all he cared. There was no greater pleasure than being worn by him on his feet. He wished he could express his gratitude for what he did to him, but at least he knew that he would be with his gym crush forever. That was all that mattered.

[doctor-croctor]

I sprayed my attic with foam recently and noticed that some foam that got on my old shoes looked like a skull, so i filled off the excess. I think it turned out pretty neat.

[inanimatefan1]

Did not go as planned (Collage roommate Sneaker TF Story) PART 3 (a new Beginning)

Years have passed, and the pile of worn sneakers in the corner has grown considerably. One day, Tyler stands in front of his wardrobe, contemplating the mountain of shoes. "This is getting out of hand," he mutters to himself. He retrieves his football bag from the floor, still carrying the scent of countless practices, games, and locker rooms. He starts to fill it with the worn sneakers, and as I find myself being lifted and placed into the bag, a wave of nostalgia washes over me. I sense the presence of all the other sneakers, each with their own history, their own scent, their own connection to Tyler. Tyler zips up the bag and hoists it over his shoulder. "Time to give them a second life," he says, almost as if he's talking to us. For a moment, I wonder where we're going. A thrift store? A recycling center? Somewhere else? Either way, I find myself excited about this next chapter. The bag sways as Tyler walks, each step he takes a reminder of all the steps he's taken in each of us. Finally, Tyler stops walking. He unzips the bag and starts to pull us out one by one. It turns out he's at a local charity where worn but usable items are refurbished and given to those in need. As I get lifted out of the bag and placed into a new pile, I can't help but feel a sense of rebirth. I may no longer serve Tyler, but I can serve someone else, carry someone else's dreams and steps.

As I adjust to the new surroundings, Tyler turns to leave. "Take care of them. They've been good to me," he tells the volunteer, smiling. And just like that, he's gone, leaving me and the others behind for our second life. Yet even as he walks away, a part of him remains with each of us—memories woven into fabric, history imprinted onto soles. Even as I prepare for my new journey, I know I'll always be a part of Tyler's story, just as he will always be a part of mine.

As I'm placed on a workbench along with the other sneakers, I can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The charity staff really take their mission to heart, giving each of us worn-out sneakers a new lease on life. First comes the cleaning process. I've never experienced anything like it. Powerful yet gentle solvents wash away the accumulated grime, and brushes scrub into crevices I'd forgotten existed. I start to feel lighter, refreshed. The next stage is the polishing, and as I'm buffed and shined, I can see a transformation taking place. What were once signs of wear and age are now marks of character; I've gone from worn-out to vintage. Special equipment reinforces my weakened soles, patches up my frayed fabric, and revitalizes my faded colors. The smell of Tyler still lingers faintly within me, but it's now mixed with a clean, almost new aroma. One by one, each of us gets tagged and entered into the charity system, marked for a new chapter. And as I consider the future, I can't help but feel optimistic. We, all 20 pairs that once belonged to Tyler, will soon be gracing the feet of teenagers and young adults who turn to the charity for support. Each of us will become a part of new stories, new lives. As I'm placed on a shelf with other revitalized sneakers, waiting for someone to choose me, I find myself thinking about what comes next. Whose life will I be a part of? What new adventures await? While I'll always cherish my time with Tyler, I can't help but feel eager for what lies ahead.

Did not go as planned (Collage roommate Sneaker TF Story) PART 4 (Alex)

As Alex slips his foot into me, I immediately sense the difference between him and Tyler. Alex's socks are clearly worn, much more so than Tyler's ever were, and I can tell his family has had to prioritize other needs over new clothing. But as he laces me up, there's an unmistakable feeling of joy and satisfaction emanating from him. His mother watches, clearly relieved to find good-quality sneakers for her son at such a symbolic price. The staff at the charity store, seeing the family's genuine need, go the extra mile to make sure they have everything they need, from clothing to household items. All sold at minimal cost, giving the family a sense of ownership while still helping them in their time of need. "Mom, look, they fit perfectly!" Alex exclaims, taking a few steps to test me out. His mother smiles, her eyes shining with a mix of relief and gratitude.

"Looks like we've found your new sneakers," she says, confirming what I already sensed: I've found my new owner. As we leave the charity store, I can't help but feel a sense of purpose rejuvenated within me. While Tyler's college journey had its own excitement, the path ahead with Alex feels just as significant, albeit in a different way. Alex and his family head home, and the moment we step through their front door, he eagerly puts me on again. This time, I'm paired with another one of his worn socks, but I don't mind. I know that in no time, I'll grow to love the unique scent and feel of being Alex's sneakers just as much as I loved being Tyler's.

From the moment I became Alex's go-to pair of sneakers, I notice the meticulous care with which both he and his mother treat their belongings. For them, every item holds value because they don't know when they'll be able to replace it. Unlike Tyler, who had the luxury of multiple options and frequent replacements, Alex wears me every day—to school, to play, to run errands with his mom. I become well-acquainted with every type of terrain, from asphalt to dirt paths to linoleum floors. The wear and tear is inevitable, of course, but Alex and his mother do their best to mitigate it. They clean me regularly, wiping away the day's grime and occasionally applying a little polish to keep me looking presentable. I can tell that they're trying to extend my lifespan as much as possible. Over time, I adapt to the unique demands of being Alex's only pair of sneakers. I find myself not just becoming a part of his life but a necessity, a constant in a world that doesn't offer him many. The soles of my fabric may wear thin, and my laces may fray, but the sense of purpose I feel only grows stronger.

As Alex's everyday sneakers, I quickly become attuned to the rhythm of his life—a life much more demanding than Tyler's. Each day after school, Alex heads to the small grocery store where he works, and I can sense the fatigue setting in as he stands for hours, stocking shelves and managing inventory. I do my best to offer support, cushioning his steps and absorbing the strain of long hours on his feet. He hardly has any free time; what little he does have is often spent taking care of his siblings or helping his mother with chores. And yet, despite the challenges and worries that fill his days, Alex never complains. His resilience impresses upon me a deep sense of admiration and respect.The wear and tear on me becomes more apparent as the weeks roll by. The soles start to thin, the fabric bears the marks of long days and hard work, and my inner padding becomes increasingly compressed. Yet, Alex and his mother continue their regimen of care, cleaning and polishing me regularly, doing their best to keep me functional for as long as possible. Every step Alex takes in me feels weighted with responsibility and tinged with hope. I find a new form of honor in being the support system for someone who has to be strong not just for himself, but for his family as well. While I can't change the circumstances of Alex's life, I can offer him the small comfort and reliability that comes with a good pair of sneakers. In this way, I do my best to help him, to absorb the shocks and stresses of his busy, challenging life. Though I'm just a pair of shoes, I feel like I'm contributing something meaningful to Alex's world, even if he doesn't know it. As I feel myself adapting to the unique demands of being his one and only pair, I find that the value and importance of my role have never been clearer. In Alex's world, where each day brings new challenges, being a reliable pair of sneakers is more than just a function—it's a privilege.

Part 3/4 of 7