Stolen by Ex - Shoes TF
Tags: Inanimate, Clothing TF, Feet, Object TF, Sweat, Caption, Objectification
DescriptionIf you want to make a suggestion or have an unique idea? Join the Discord Server. Right now there is a giveaway so don't miss it!If you want to create a caption like this I have all the needed things uploaded on mediafire and don't forget to add #tf_clinic to your tags!Last Part:Personal…
Personal Information Name: Nick | Age: 39 | Gender: Male | TF-ID: TF-NM39TC Treatment Information Transformation: Regular shoes | Date: 02.04.2025 Doctor: Dr. Kiara Dildine | TF Treatmemt: TF Booth Guardian’s Information Name: Carley | Age: 29 | Gender: Female Notes TF Booth did it’s job. It really is like magic. A person enters and an object comes out... it really is crazy. These new booths are crazy, like the latest tf tech. The subject was happy to be transformed into a pair of street shoes. I will put him in the box and store him. Duration: 4 Days | Next Location: Carley’s shoe cabinet Stolen by Ex - Shoes TF I am Nick, 39. I agreed to become regular shoes for my friend Carley to know what the fuss is about these tf clinics. We picked just regular classic cheap street shoes with black soles. Dr. Kiara Dildine escorted me to the new transformation booth from TI. She explained how it works and told me to get inside. The booth resembled an old-fashioned phone booth, glowing with strange energy. My consciousness blurred immediately upon entry. My vision dropped rapidly until I could only see at floor level. Strange tingles spread throughout my dissolving body, neither painful nor pleasant. Just... different. My form hardened into rubber and white canvas. No arms, no torso, just two shoe shapes where my consciousness now resided. Dr. Kiara slipped her feet into me for the photo. The sensation of feet inside me felt intimate, her warmth pressing against my insides. She took documentation photos before boxing me up. After some time, I heard hushed, angry whispers. The box opened briefly, light flooding in. A familiar face peered down. Brooke. My ex-girlfriend. She quickly swapped me with identical shoes, closing the box again. Hours later, the light returned. Brooke lifted me triumphantly from the package. "Finally got you back, love" she whispered, running her fingers along my canvas. "Changed of plans. You belong to me now. Permanently." Horror dawned through my mind. This transformation was supposed to be temporary. Brooke slipped her bare feet into me, wiggling her toes against my insoles. "Remember how you said my feet smelled? Bon appetit!" Her sweat immediately soaked into my fabric. Her distinctive foot odor permeated every fiber of my being. Without socks, nothing protected me from her direct skin contact. Days became weeks. Weeks became months. Her unwashed feet filled me daily, walking through mud, rain, and filth. My once clean white canvas became permanently stained. The stench became my entire existence. One day, she dug me out from storage, holding me up to her now mature face with a smirk. "Time for the yard sale." A teenager purchased me at the end. They placed plants inside me, filling me with soil. But well, this is what happens to shoes, right?
