After finishing Final Fantasy X for what must be at least the 16th or so time, you turn off the system satisfied- having watched the credits roll and enjoyed the music and fond memories till the end. Sitting in your room for a moment, your mind spins with images from the nostalgic childhood game, and you muse over how it still seems to affect you all these years later. 

As you feel a growing arousal inside yourself thinking about the game’s heroines however- you realize that the setting and story isn’t the only thing that still has a hold on you. 

Something about the ivory curves of Lulu’s body beneath the thick layers of her robes, how they’re pulled so tightly against her skin… you silently mutter to yourself how you’d give anything to be the little plushie she’s clutching against her body- how you’d gladly run faithfully after the dark, steep forms of her boots rising above you. 

Clutching at yourself you let out a sigh. Realizing intrinsically of course, it can never be. Even as willing as you are to give yourself up to this fictional character in such a ridiculous way… actually getting to touch her, interact with her in any way, or especially… make love to her, was obviously impossible. 

Laughing at the ridiculous pipe dream you switch the TV off and turn around towards your computer monitor. It seems like once again a simple doujinshi will have to suffice for the night. After a rigorous search through the internet for the appropriate series of Lulu, Yuna, Rikku, and Paine focused erotic manga, you feel satisfied enough for the night and plop into your bed. 

Closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep, your mind still wanders, cloudy images of Lulu’s pale legs shifting, and Yuna’s puckering lips slowly lulling you into a comfortable slumber.

Meanwhile, far across the Sea of Dreams separating the barrier between worlds… Lulu sits upon a stool of woven reeds and wicker, a thin layer of decorative fabrics spread beneath the luscious girth of her pale thighs and backside. Combing her long, black hair with a fine ornate shell tool, the barely dressed black mage hums to herself within her private chambers. 

The tight form of her dark, strapped corset still wraps around her chest beneath her bosom, but in her early morning preparations, she’s yet to dawn the rest of the layers of her skirts, frocking, or belts making up the rest of her extravagant outfit. The various articles of clothing lay strewn throughout the room around her in the pillared chamber. Some portions draped across the surfaces of other tapestry covered furniture, a mixture of eccentric items from her own and Wakka’s familial hand me downs.

Lulu’s crimson eyes trace down the curves of her own porcelain frame looking at herself in the mirror, and she sighs. Rubbing her hands across her chest and hips, she grimaces to herself, grasping the barely noticeable bulge in her stomach beneath her clothing. Feeling her body become heated she curses her husband’s name aloud, frowning as she remembers that he was still out questing to fulfill his own duties. 

Although she was grateful for the bond they shared, and the child growing inside her, she could do without the waves of strange feelings, and hormone fueled bursts of arousal she was experiencing recently during his absence. 

Without him nearby to satisfy her, she felt a need to find some other way to please herself, or at least to feel attractive and lusted after. Shaking her head and blushing to herself for a moment she trailed a ringed finger up towards her purple painted lips. Pondering on the issue for a time, a smirk spread across her face as the solution became obvious to her. 

Why hadn’t she thought of this earlier, she had been going about this entirely the wrong way, limiting herself in her altered state of mind she mused. Lulu laughed quietly to herself as she realized that she could easily find a way to solve this little “problem” with the use of some simple summoning magic. It was more than easy enough for her to summon various living entities, animated dolls, and such to do her bidding. 

Why couldn’t she create something then to satisfy this current need growing inside her, to be desired and worshipped, and pleased in some way she couldn’t quite describe? Glancing around the room she searched for a suitable item, a vessel to suit her needs that could work to her advantage without being too… directly lewd. It wouldn’t do to accidentally enchant some obvious sex toy and have it bounding off into the village, she’d never hear the end of it. 

Looking down towards her feet, she sees a possible solution and peers over towards a folded pair of nylons laying across a nearby rack. Smiling to herself she remembers the pleasurable feeling she always got pressing her soles and toes down onto the face and body of her lover. The way he would lustfully sniff and lap away even at the bottoms of her feet like an obedient little animal always brought her a certain kind of satisfaction that was hard to get any other way. 

Blushing deeply again in embarrassment, she steps across the rug, grasping the loose fabric between her fingertips. Standing scantily clad in her undergarments within the center of the room, she suddenly takes a serious stance, her eyes narrowing as she holds the nylons outstretched before her body clutched in the grip of one of her hands. With her other hand she begins to make a series of hand signs towards the fabric objects before her body, chanting a rhythmic verse alongside the motions. 

A glimmering shape illuminates the floor beneath her bare feet and casts a light throughout the room. Suddenly, a fluctuating portal flexes open through the surface of the floor and through the iridescent shimmering hole, a shaking orb of energy emerges. Carefully continuing her rhythmic spellcasting above the hovering mote of spirit, Lulu draws the ball of life force into the surface of the nylons, splitting it with a colorful burst into the mass of thin legwear. 

Her motions and chanting cease as the glimmering hole within the floor sparkles closed, leaving only a slight glitter in the air where it was beneath her feet. The hanging form of the now gradually decreasing in luminosity, glowing nylons slack in her fingers. Sighing to herself relieved at the apparent success and overall ease of the somewhat untested theoretical spell, she holds up the now “living” nylons, smiling warmly towards them. 

Your pleasant dreams of the milky vistas of Lulu’s body are interrupted as the view surrounding you is torn away by a rending brightness. Psychic pain assaults your incorporeal form as you feel your very spirit pulled through the veils between worlds. An ethereal view of your convulsing body laying struggling against your bed rockets out of sight into the distance as you find yourself formless in a seemingly endless, cold void. 

Trying to scream, your lack of a mouth prevents you from making anything besides a strange reverberation of protest against the streaming, sparkling mana enveloping you. The otherworldly light seethes through the darkness grasping around your being. 

Pulled violently through another glimmering portal of light you feel a tropical warmth, and a comfortably heated atmosphere rush over you, a welcome change from the distance-less black space you were just trapped in. 

Your newfound, strangely disembodied senses adjust quickly to the dimly lit chamber you find yourself in. Looking past the strangely glowing rope bound glass orbs hanging from the ceiling you see the embellished woven decorations depicting oddly familiar monstrous creatures and heroes hanging across the walls and draped over nearby furniture. The view of the towering form of a woman’s body comes into view- leaning over you closely as if she’s holding your entire body in her hands. 

The exotic, floral scent of her thick perfumes waft over your odd center of perception as you’re hung before the spreading view of her exposed cleavage. The two massive creamy globes bounce above the tight dark clothing wrapped around them and her torso. Gazing down towards her body you trail across its shapely frame as it descends beneath your view like the side of a building, towards the spreading curves of her legs and eagerly shifting feet upon the floor far below. 

Staring in disbelief at the familiar seeming sight before you, your eyes slowly make their way back up towards the dark-haired woman’s elegantly blushing face. Watching her lilac-colored lips twist into a concerningly satisfied smile, you note the tell-tale dark beauty mark beside them as they part. 

Feeling your disembodied heart swell with a mix of fear and excitement at the realization, the blood red, shimmering eyes of the goddess like, massive form of Lulu speaks down towards you as she holds your very being in her hands.

“Well, hello my little servant, I hope you’re ready to begin your new life. I’m afraid I’ve summoned you for a particularly… selfish purpose. It may not be the existence you had expected when you were pulled into this world but… well I’m sure you’ll get used to it- it won’t be all that bad. Maybe, if you’re lucky you’ll even grow to enjoy it. I hope you do. Either way I know… I will…”

Trying to shout, or even speak in response seems impossible. Attempting to flex or move your body only results in weak, wriggling motions of what feels like a slack and useless body. It’s as if your entire muscular structure, your very body had been stretched out and spread out like a lump of dough, uncertain of where your limbs or torso even really begin or end any longer. 

You seem to be perceiving sensory input from across the whole of your magically flattened form, your body stretching out above you. Your odd center of perception dangling down beneath the slackened, ambiguous shape and your overall sense of presence of your body. You can feel the pinching hold of her fingertips, what you perceive as pressure grinding down against your midsection or legs, or some mix of both- far above you.

Looking around in a panic, unsure of the meaning of her words you try to assess the situation and get a hold of what exactly you are, or appear as exactly, here in this world you were ripped into through your dreams. Trying your best to shift the etheric point of perception your gaze appears to hold, the portion of this dangling mass that seems to constitute your “eyes” or face as it were, you look up towards the length of your assumed “body”. 

Your psyche struggles to appreciate or fully comprehend what it sees as you look towards the warm feeling of Lulu’s porcelain fingertips, and darkly painted nails digging against what you swear is your lower body. Before your eyes is the shifting fabric of a sheer pair of stylistic nylons, a pattern woven into the flexing, tan colored material. The smiling girl plays with it between her fingers, slowly working the bottom of your body open as she grips the folds of the legwear tightly pulling it wide before her.

As she moves the sheer material you can feel the overwhelming sensation of your legs and groin being spread apart, the feeling of her warm fingers passing through what feels like the inside of your muscular structure and internal parts of your body. Not damaging or destroying anything, but in an otherworldly way just brushing against, rubbing over, and pressing into, as if separated by the very material of the nylons themselves. 

However, the sensory stimulation is more intense than anything you’ve experienced before, an intoxicating mix of slight pain and kinesthetic pleasure as she reaches for a moment into your very body. Her fingers recede and you shiver in a mix of horror and arousal, as she’s now shifted the nylons open and begins to slowly lower your form towards the ground. 

You feel the back of your head, what seems to be the foot and toe sections of the nylons making up both sides of your head, bump against the carpet covered floor below and grunt inaudibly as you realize your position fully. You were familiar from playing the various games featuring Lulu that she commonly used “living items” for different purposes. It was actually one of your favorite character features that she always carried around what seemed to be a little living doll of some kind. 

However, you had never really fully considered the extent of that magic, or the way in which it really functioned. It never crossed your mind that perhaps she could use that same type of spellcasting to create other types of living items, like clothing or anything- the thought was almost too lewd to even have considered within the canon. 

Once you thought about it though, there was really no reason she couldn’t. You also had never really considered “where” the life force animating those items had come from. Of course, you should have known, as it was one of your biggest video game crushes, that Lulu was at her core, a Black Mage, a practitioner of the dark arts. It wasn’t uncommon in various fantasy settings for such magi to have forms of “soul trapping” or “soul binding” techniques, which usually allowed for such living constructs and such to exist in the first place. Although such a magical art could appear cruel or unusual to a common observer or a different caster type, it was something usually intrinsic to the practice of Black Magic as a whole.

Your mind rushes with the possibilities, and the horribly real sensations filling your now seemingly woken- no longer dreaming form. You try again to scream, and remember you cannot, as you have no functional “mouth” to speak of. 

A sadistically charged, flirtatious giggle cuts through the air around you, passing through the thin fabric making up your body as your mass is stretched tight beneath the towering view of Lulu’s voluptuous form leaning over you. Bending her body, she raises the thickly flexing thigh of one leg into the air above your open body, pointing the black painted nails of her daintily wiggling toes down towards your spirit-trapped gaze staring from within the end section of the nylons.

“Now, my faithful living footwear, I expect you to do a good job pleasing me down there you hear? You’re already a sorry substitute for the real thing, I’d much rather press my soles down onto the nose and mouth of another real, living, person but- for now while my husband is away your enchanted self will have to do.”

Lulu’s voice washes over you as you feel the warmth issuing out from the meaty shape of her foot pass into the confines of your outstretched body. From your perspective far below within the twisting funnel of fabric you see her pale, wrinkled sole flexing in preparation as it lowers towards you. Various rings wrapped around the slender shifting masses of her toes shimmer in the light from the room outside the interior of the nylon, alongside the carefully painted sheer shapes of her decorated toenails.

“I’ve made it, so you’ll remain unharmed, but you’ll be able to feel the entirety of my legs pressing against and crushing your body over, across and between them. Simultaneously, I’ve centered your face, and all your senses of smell, taste and hearing throughout the foot and toe sections of these nylons. That way you’ll be able to sniff, lick, and suck on everything my beautiful feet have to offer, doesn’t that sound absolutely wonderful?”

Trying to struggle against her grasp proves futile. Your magically altered body seems to lack any kind of physical autonomy, making you unable to effectively do much more than wriggle the surface of the thin fabric making up your form in protest. As her foot is shoved into the tighter portions deeper within the nylon’s leg section, you feel the warm surface of her sole’s flesh and the top of her foot, her wriggling toes, pushing down against, over and within your groin and torso. 

It feels as if her huge sole is crushing down against and through your chest, her grasping, moving toes pushing their way through the mashed, stretching mess of your ruined body towards your face. The smell of her tropical perfume mixes with the already ripe scent of her somewhat sweaty sole, and the spaces between her toes as they outstretch widely. She forces herself into you, baring down on your face and sensory orifices located in the sole and toe section. 

Paying no apparent attention to your panicked struggles, the dark mage casually continues to playfully speak towards your disembodied presence within her legwear.

“You’ll be pulled and pressed tightly against my flesh, breathing, and seeing nothing but the essence of my body, my heat, and my scent all around you. You should know, this is the whole of your existence now- this kind of transmutation spell is non-reversable. Your entire purpose in life is to be a good pair of nylons.”

Terrified at the mass of hot foot flesh barreling down the chamber of tight nylon towards the side of your face you strain yourself trying to find some possible manner of escape. Feeling her toes grasp against and crush through the interior of your throat you reflexively panic again, desperately trying to move away from the intense sensation. 

Realizing how impossible the situation is you try to cry, out of frustration, but are unable to do so due to your nonexistent eyes. Instead, you reserve yourself to wincing the best you can, bracing your “mouth” and center of vision for the heavy weight of her sole coming towards you.

“Whatever you may have been before doesn’t really matter now. I hope you’re ready because I intend to use you to help pleasure myself, so like I said- do try to do a good job… Otherwise, I suppose I’ll just end up having to throw you out and try something else… and we wouldn’t want that- would we? So, go ahead and be a good pair of stockings and make me feel pretty, worshipped, and pampered, alright?”

As Lulu finishes her statement, you feel the cold reality of your position slam down onto you with the literal force of her sole crushing against the surface of your face. The hot flesh of her foot grinds down onto you, her heel jutting into what feels like your mouth as her toes grasp and push against your nose, covering and rubbing over your eyes.

Before you can really react, your entire world becomes a twisting blur of moist skin and crushing pressure filling your body to the point of bursting. Shifting and pulling your other leg and lower body again, she begins to roughly shove the next foot into your form taking much less time and being much less gentle than she was with the other. 

The fabric of your being clings against her thigh as her foot hangs above the dangling other half of your face within. You struggle to breathe through the thick aroma now filling the trapped sections within the nylon where your sensory input centers lie. The slick forms of her toes rub throughout the already tightly wrapped portion of the toe section covering them, pressing down against you and the ground below. 

As their warm tips and undersides pass over your face you can taste the salty sweat dripping from them while their weight is ground against you, and feel the heated slick forms moving around inside you. Your perception shifts and bends, trying to keep up with the strangely uncentered sensory input assaulting you as she pushes her other foot down against the other side of your face. 

She struggles to stretch the clinging fabric across the surface of her sole and get her toes unstuck from its grasp, pushing the moist wiggling digits into the confines of one side of your mouth and digging them into the surface of your tongue. For a moment it feels as if she’s grabbed your tongue between their slick forms, passing it roughly from gap to gap and forcing it into the depths under and between her toes. 

Your mouth is filled with the ripe taste of earth and dusty grime of her natural sweat and built-up filth from beneath her foot as the toes pop out of your mouth and pass over the rest of your face, shoving themselves into and against your nose. The motion continues, dragging the fleshy ball of her foot across your tongue forcefully and rubbing it against the arch of her foot as she grasps the surface of the nylons above, stretching it and trying to fit her foot fully into it properly. 

Adjusting herself for a moment she comfortably shifts her toes into the end section, sliding them over your nose and eyes. You stare up from between their slender forms, in a state of sensory overload and mental shock, towards her pale face smiling down at you far in the distance. Her hands slide to her hips and begin pulling the waistband of the nylons up and snapping it into place across the ample surface of her butt cheeks. 

As the thick mass of her ass floods into the space within your lower body and legs you feel yourself pulled even tighter against her. Now, filled entirely by her, you feel your form groan and stretch over the length of the creamy, soft flesh of her ass, thighs, and legs. Both sides of your face are pulled tightly against the warm surfaces of her soles, and remain continually battered and caressed by the long, slender shapes of her painted toes. 

You’re unable to judge your exact position any longer, as you feel her stepping down against the ground, the flesh of her foot spreading out against your vision and face, filling your nose and mouth as the impact jars against the back of your head, forcing her skin into your eyes as you’re made to taste it again. 

Lulu’s claims had been correct, this was your entire “world” now, literally everything you could feel and perceive was filled with, covered by, and assaulted by the weight, physical sensation, smell and taste of her legs, ass, and feet. It was like her body was crushing down on you simultaneously from every direction, from within and without. 

In some paradoxical fashion, as her huge body moved, stretching your form covering it, you felt as if you were about to explode from her thick limbs filling your thin flesh, and at the same time, as if your entire body was being crushed by her flexing, muscular mass. She lifts her foot and slams it back down against the ground, again and again, the impact forcing more of the somewhat dirty skin of her sole and toes against and into your mouth and nose each time. 

Looking up through the moving pillars of the undersides of her toes as they crush down against, and arch over your eyes you see her looking away from you. Smiling to herself, unaware of your suffering as she caresses the length of her body, gazing off in the distance.

Lulu struts across the room, stretching out her leg before herself examining herself in the full-length coral mirror leaning against one wall of her bedchamber. Examining the ornate fabric of the nylon stretched across her leg and clinging across the bottom of her foot she giggles to herself, marveling at how indiscernible it was from an ordinary piece of clothing. 

However, it felt entirely different, a strange warmth seemed to issue from the fabric- and although it had the texture of the nylon it would normally hold, it almost had a more organic, smooth, skin like feeling as it wrapped across her body. It felt as if her entire leg, and the soles and toes of her feet were being massaged, grasped, and rubbed against by the flesh of another, an oddly strange and pleasurable sensation. 

The psychological bonus of knowing that some form of semi-aware and most likely trying it’s best to move or act in some way “consciousness” was bound within the stretched fabric only made it more enjoyable. 

Sitting back into a large, plush chair beside the stool she had been on before, Lulu trails her hands down the curves of her breasts and across her stomach, tracing her body with her fingertips as she passes over the surface of the nylons towards the growing warmth where her thighs meet.

With every movement of Lulu’s seemingly gargantuan form, you feel the very fabric of your being stretched to its limits. The swelteringly hot, muscular masses of her legs push throughout the interior of your body and crush against your legs and torso. 

Squeezing her thighs together, she grasps at her own womanhood, and you feel her soft fingertips pushing roughly against the material that makes up your own currently displaced groin. The rough motion sends a violent shiver through your nervous system your immobilized form still unable to react. The motion of her fingers stroking at herself through the thin material of the nylons serves to continually rub and press against your own unseen but swollen genitals as well.

Gasping for some attempt at a breath to regain your swirling senses you’re met with a mouth-full of the sweaty surface of her sole. Her long toes grasp across your face, pinching the fabric making up your nose into the spaces between their slender forms and forcing you to inhale the moist scent trapped within their crevices, deeply. Grinding her feet against the ground your face is wiped roughly against the soft, giving flesh of her feet and crushed against the ground beneath her. 

The pace of her motions far above where her legs meet, and the sliding sensation of her fingertips assaulting the surface of your groin intensify. A large portion of your face is grasped and pulled into the space beneath her toes and used to wipe a thick layer of sweat from their undersides as she grinds her soles against each other. 

Struggling to resist or defend yourself in some way to no avail you’re forced to swallow and inhale in vicious mixture of grime and foot sweat as it soaks into and flows across the fabric making up your face, trapped tightly against her soles.  

The scent, and sensation of her movement within and across the roughly shifting, strained frame of your body overwhelms your nervous system, and begins to wreak havoc on your very psyche. Seconds begin to feel like minutes, and minutes become hours, as the continual flexing view of the plush undersides of her wet toes becomes all that you can see through your stinging eyes. 

Your mouth is stained with the taste of her perspiration, the tinge of her perfume wreaking havoc on your sinuses and throat as you’re forced again and again to suck away, inhale, and lap at the salty fluids covering your face to continue breathing.

Feeling like the torture may never end, you wonder if Lulu might be able to be made aware of her horrible error. The fact that she’d summoned another living human and not some lesser spirit to inhabit her footwear and treat in such a way. You strain yourself to gaze past the gap between her toes up towards her in desperation. 

Focusing your vision to see past the milky lengths of her legs, and the pillowy forms of her thighs rubbing against each other, beyond the bouncing vista of her now fully exposed breasts- you see her blushing face, mouth agape as she gasps roughly. 

Moaning out loud to herself in the dimly lit chamber, Lulu slides her hand into the interior of the nylons, stretching the crotch section against her forearm as she forces her fingers inside herself, overcome with the pleasurable sensations washing over her. 

Feeling your will drain you realize the girl towering over you has already forgotten about your plight, she was never worried about your well being in this equation as you are only a simple summoned item for her pleasure. 

Feeling the heated moisture growing across your stretched midsection, she emits another gasping moan, her self-pleasing motions ironing in that you are really nothing more than an article of clothing, an object to her. Lulu’s legs shift out from their hanging position over the edge of the chair to raise outwards. The long, thick pillars of flesh strain against your thin body pulled taut over them as her body goes entirely rigid for a few moments. 

You hear the fabric of the nylon constituting your being groaning and feel a portion of your side pulled along the thick mass of her ass and thighs starting to rip. The threads of your form tearing internally, painfully as if it was your very muscles. 

Her massive toes curl down over your face, grinding the material of the toe section and undersides of the nylons between their fleshy masses and drowning you in a newly issued layer of hot sweat coursing from her body. Shuddering, her body and limbs shivering violently, she bucks her hips and pushes her fingers into herself roughly. Moaning girlishly, Lulu normally pale face turns a bright red as she brings herself to climax. Leaning back into the blankets covering the chair she gasps through pleasured sounds trying to catch her breath.

Far beneath her, pushed against the ground and covered entirely by the wet weight of her soles and toes, now relaxing and flowing over your face, you struggle to breath or even comprehend the reality of what’s transpiring around you. 

While her hand moves across the fabric making up your midsection and genitals, you feel yourself being brought to an orgasm as well. Yet the threaded and stretched nature of your magically altered body makes you unable to actually fulfill the motion biologically. Instead, you’re left with a hollow and haunting arousal, a clutching need gripping at the very fabric making up your being and driving you mad with the never-ending stimulation, the mixture of pain and pleasure washing over you.

You find yourself still intoxicated by the experience, the stimulation gripping at your displaced genitals and nervous system, coursing through your nylon frame and washing across your mind like crashing waves of ambiguous desire. 

Unable to stop yourself, as the weight of her body presses down onto you, hearing her speaking far above, you continue to suck and lick at the soles of her feet. Desperately trying to relieve yourself of the agonizing arousal gripping your being. Worshipping the goddess like figure crushing and straining your body, you struggle to somehow orgasm even if it’s through simply licking and sniffing the scent and taste of her toes. 

“Ahh… Well, that wasn’t so bad now was it? It really hit the spot for me at least. Thanks for being a good pair of nylons and helping me out there, I really needed that. I feel so much better now… ugh… I gotta say though I remember why I don’t wear these too often… it’s already getting pretty hot and stuffy in here don’t you think.” 

Your eyes widen as you feel the pinch of her fingertips across your waistband, pulling you away from the slick surface of her thighs and out from between the jostling cheeks of her ass as she sits up out of the chair. Pulling you down the surface of her legs you scream in fear, gazing around the area within the toe section for some way to stop her. 

Licking at her soles desperately you slam your body against her, wriggling the surface of the nylons as much as you can with all of your might in an attempt to finish, to bring an end to your painfully pleasurable stimulations. To your dismay you feel your groin ripped away from the moist surface of her womanhood, your body folded in her hands as you’re pulled down her legs. 

Sucking vigorously at her flesh in an attempt to get a final taste of the now seemingly intoxicating fluids, you watch as her toes flex over your eyes one last time. The warm skin separates from your face with a slick pulling sound as she slides her feet out of the nylons. Holding your entire, now dangling, and loose, somewhat moist form between her fingers. She raises you before her face, giggling at the already slightly ruined form of the legwear, battered by her simple activities.

Your mind spins, dizzy from the combination of the motion, and the realization that you now seem to desperately need that warm contact with her body, the feeling of being emptied of her luscious legs, and the soft soles of her feet now leaving you hollow and wanting. Unsure of your own sanity you gaze down at her body, cursing again your inability to scream or to cry at your fate.

“Well, it seems like I pretty much got as much use out of you as I’m going to. I think I’m satisfied now. That was an interesting little experience, but it wasn’t quite as good as I wanted… I think I’m going to have to try a different kind of object to really get the results I want with this particular spell… Oh well… and I never really wear nylons either so what am I going to do with you…”

You shiver at the cold nature of the words washing over your now smitten form. Unable to comprehend fully what she’s saying it is almost as if language itself is starting to not make sense to your broken mind. Finding yourself still reeling at being treated like a piece of footwear and soaking up the filth and sweat from such a beautiful woman’s legs, ass, and feet. 

Now, she casually gazes at you like you’re not even human, nothing but a soiled piece of unwanted laundry, and talks out loud towards you about the best way to discard you. Your very spirit, your mind, begins to shatter and crack, your heart breaking as the fact that there is no apparent escape from this horrific, unending torture fully weighing down on you.

Placing you down on a rack to dry for a moment, she leans over and begins going through some things, picking out a few other articles of clothing. She hums to herself again, picking up the song she had been singing earlier in the night.

“Here we are, this will do. I don’t really wear most of these very much, and I’ll probably never use you again. You’d just sit piled up with all my other socks and things for god knows how long, so I have a much better idea. I’ll just give you to Yuna alongside these other clothes I’ve been meaning to get rid of. She always needs things like nylons for her costumes and stage performances so I’m sure she’ll put you to good use.”

As Lulu slowly lowers you into a bag alongside other pieces of discarded clothing and accessories you watch the world around you go dim. Her voice continues speaking, muffled, as you sit, unable to move. In shock, you watch as the other pieces of fabric- the other items, pile around you, blocking out your sight.

“Doesn’t that sound better than sitting in my drawers and just becoming a moth-eaten pile of forgotten scrap? Well, it’s not like you have much of a choice. Just try to be a good little pair of legwear for my friend alright? She’s a bit more rambunctious than I am so you’ll have your work cut out for you, and if you enjoyed my soles, toes and the stuffy heat in there, then I’m sure you’ll have a great time during her dance routines and battle exercises.”

Feeling the container jostled through the air, you feel the reverberations and hear the sound of her huge body walking and setting the bag down on a hard surface. Unable to tell where you are exactly you hear the distant sound of her voice as she walks out of the room.

“Go ahead and stay right there like a good pair of nylons hmm? No running away now. I’m going to go get washed off and find Yuna so I can give her my little present- you and the rest of this clothing. Don’t worry, think on the bright side, this is the first day of your brand-new life. You get to spend the rest of your days covering the legs of gorgeous woman like us. That has to count for something right?”

Laughing to herself Lulu walks out of the door of the bedchamber, closing it behind her. 

The shuddering noise leaves you alone in the bag, covered in the perfumed pieces of clothing smushed around and over you. Unsure where your battered body ends and the other items begin, you’re covered in the soft forms of fabric alongside you. 

Exhausted and spent from the experience of the day, you fall into an uncertain and fearful slumber. As you sleep you find your mind still filled, with the now clear visions of the flesh of Lulu’s legs and feet, your mouth and nose instinctively flexing towards them as you dream fitfully within the cold void.