I looked around the locker room, hoping no one was watching. Luckily, it was empty. No coach, no players. I was free to enjoy my typical Friday night ritual. I’d tried this with Warren’s cleats after a long game, or Chase’s sneakers after basketball practice, but I always wanted to try with Coach Halvorson’s Nike trainers. Turning to my right, I saw them on the bench next to the bench where I was sitting. I smiled as the smell hit me, the smell that only comes from a pair of worn out, sweaty shoes. They were perfect.
I reached down, picking up the sneaker. It had been soaked with sticky sweat for the past few days, the sweat dripping slowly onto the floor. He wore them all the time, on the field, in the halls, in the gym… Looking down at the floor, there was a thick dark streak, running from the shoe on the left to the shoe on the right. The streaks seemingly got wider and wider as I watched. It squirmed and pulsated, but I couldn’t look away.
Looking down at the shoe, the inside had a strange black sludge on it. It wasn’t like just a few drops, there were big clumps and pools of it. I looked up, hoping the coach hadn’t seen me looking, and it was clear he hadn’t. The blinds were still drawn in the coaches office, he wouldn’t come out for another hour or so.
Looking down at his Nikes again, I knew what I had to do. Taking off my own shoes, I started to slip one of his on. Immediately, they felt strange and slimy against my foot, but I figured it was part of the reason why I loved wearing them so much. It was kind of like my body fitting perfectly to the shoes I wanted to wear. I brought one to my nose, as I inhaled his heavy ripe scent deeply into my lungs. It was intoxicating. Just as I’d imagined they’d be.
Looking at the dirty soles of his shoes, I started to feel the need to taste them, the need to smell his sweaty feet on my own. I was so absorbed, so enamoured with the sensation of his grimy sweat on my feet and his stink in my lungs that I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me.
“So you have a foot thing, huh Collin?” I heard him say, hovering above me.
Of course it was a foot thing. I wanted to run my tongue over the dirty soles, so I could taste him on them. I wanted to taste him, feel his feet, feeling his warmth on my face.
I didn’t answer him, instead keeping my face buried in the shoe. The scent was hypnotic, mystifying, unlike anything I’d ever smelled before.
“You wanna be like me, don’t you Collin? You wanna be like Coach Halvorson, don’t you?” Absentmindedly, I nodded. I was barely in control of myself, marginally cognizant. “Well, you can, boy. But you need to let me in.”
Pulling myself away from the shoe, I shook my head, looking up at the man standing in front of me. The sweat was pouring from him, dripping on the floor as he spoke, and it smelt like sweat, of course, it smelt like sweat.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “No, no, no,” I repeated over and over again. But he knew deep down I wanted it so bad, to be like him. He took the shoe from my hands, and slipped it onto my foot. I gasped at the feeling of the strange sludge meeting my cold foot, before he grabbed the back of my head and pulled it towards him.
“Come on, Collin, you know you want it. You have to want it. Let me in. You need this. You know it. It’s only the first step, but it’s a big step, and it’s going to make you feel like a god.” I could feel the sludge start to move and squirm in the smelly shoes as he spoke to me. He smirked, I felt the soles of my feet burn as I felt the thick wetness start to move through the soles of his trainers, prodding between my toes.
“You know you want it, don’t you?” he asked again, “You’re a god. You’re an alpha. It’s in you. You feel it Collin, don’t lie to yourself.”
I shook my head, looking down at the sneakers and thinking of what he said. Was it true? Was I a god? He seemed to know so much about me, like he was reading my thoughts. He looked at me, smirking.
“Your body’s starting to do things to you, you’re just starting to get this feeling, to feel it in you. Just a little bit of it, I’ll give you more. I’ll take your mind. You’ll give it up, because you know you want it.”
I looked away from him, unable to look at his eyes. They were so dark, they were deep black, not brown as they were before, but like a midnight black abyss. In mere seconds, the sludge slammed into my foot, and started to seep into my skin between my toes. I felt my body start to react to it, a rush of excitement and euphoria flowing through me. It was making me tingle, all over, starting to spread under my skin.
“Come on Collin,” he said to me, smiling, “you want to know how to make the others worship you? How to make them submit to you? How to control them, make them see things as you do? It’s not that hard, Collin. We all have our moments when our urges take over, when our lust gets the best of us. And this is your moment.”
I shook my head again, but I knew he was right. I could see my reflection in his eyes. I looked back up at him, his eyes seemed so inviting. I was getting aroused at the thought of becoming just like him, as the sludge began to move up into my legs. I could feel the warm liquid spreading up my inner thighs, and my legs started to quiver before inflating with the mysterious warm slime. Coach smiled as the tendrils wriggled around under my skin, and he could see me beginning to grow. I don’t know how, but I knew he could see the black wetness seeping through the soles of his trainers into me.
My feet were now size 13, comfortably fitting the gigantic sneakers, and the wet sludge was now pushing through my veins… No, coursing through my veins, making me feel better than ever, stronger than ever. I hadn’t ever felt it before, that feeling of being a god, that feeling that you are more powerful than everyone else. My muscular legs now pulsated with sludge, as it squirmed up into my groin and belly, and started to spread.
“Come on, Collin, I’ve waited for this a long time, and I know you want it. Let me in.” He laughed. He laughed, because he knew he could get what he wanted, what he had always wanted, and he was going to take it. The sweat poured down my back as I stood there, watching the man proudly smirking and smelling his sweat, making my head spin and tingle. I could hear my stomach begin to growl and slosh as abs bubbled up and tightened.
“Look at me,” he said, reaching out to grab my chin. My head was still spinning, as I felt myself falling. “Look at me, Collin, and know that it’s only the beginning.”
I looked up at him, his eyes burning as he stared down at me and pulled me close. He grabbed my chest as my pecs were filled with the sludge, and slammed me against the wall. His hands massaged my meaty chest while I could smell the wafting scent of his pits tickling my nose.
“I’ll be in your head, Collin, inside your thoughts. I’ll be in your dreams. I’ll be in your fantasies, and I’ll be in your dreams. I’ll make you my project. I’ll control you. You’ll become an alpha, you’ll be an alpha, and they worship you, Collin. They will worship you.”
He laughed at me as the sludge began to move and seep through my body, flooding me. My arms grew, my biceps swelling and tingling, and my triceps felt as though they were inflating balloons as my skin stretched with the sludge. My hands grew to almost twice their size, and the sludge continued to flow, making them thicker and calloused. My muscles became more tense, and my body felt as though it was going to explode.
His words rang in my head, he was going to be in my head, my dreams, my fantasies, I was going to be his project. It was too late for objections. I was going to be his. I was going to be a god, just like him. The world around me became foggy as the slime finally slithered up my throat, and filled my mouth and nose. I could taste it now, and it was so sweet. My head throbbed and felt as though it was going to burst.
The blackness overtook my vision, seeping through my pupils, and into my head. I was going to be a god. It was happening. This was how it was going to be.
The coach turned to me, a huge grin on his face. I could feel my skull cracking and reforming in his hand. My face was swelling, and my skin, hair, and eyes were bulging outwards. I felt myself finally firming up in his hands, as his essence slipped into my brain.
I could hear him talking in my head, whispering who I truly was. I could see myself on the field, playing football, lacrosse, soccer… I was wearing a number fifty one jersey, the crowds adoring me. The years passed by in my mind’s eye, a decade in mere moments. Countless games, all four years of university, I had even played Minor League for a few years before meeting Coach Halvorson, and letting him guide me, hire me as his assistant coach.
My eyes shot open, completely black for a moment before becoming a bright, vivid blue. I gasped for breath, beadlets of sweat running down my farmer’s tanned skin. The smell of my sweat was strong, as it was always after a game. Halvorson stood before me, offering his hand.
“Coach Braxton, welcome back.” I stood up, only fragments of my former self remaining in my deepest subconscious. I was so tall, I was ripped, and I was tough. I was a coach. “Let’s go, Collin. We have post-game with the team. They are all waiting.”
He tossed me my shirt and my shorts. I put them on as I walked towards the door, and towards my team, ready to meet them.
“Hold up, I’m gonna need those back,” motioning to his shoes on my feet. “Here, take yours.” Tossing me my own trainers, ripe and slick with black sludge. I eagerly put them on, exchanging his back. He threw his arm around me, letting me take in that pit stink I loved to huff after hours, and we left the locker room to the sounds of our rowdy boys.
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