- Hey, You. Know Your Place, Speedo. Your Contract Isn't Over Yet! You Knew What You Agreed To When You

- Hey, you. Know your place, speedo. Your contract isn't over yet! You knew what you agreed to when you borrowed 1000 bucks from me and knew that you couldn’t pay them back on time.

- Over more twitch, tug or word and you will stay with me for another two months. Understood? Totally quiet, still and absorbent speedo will return to his worthless human life in three weeks. Without debts and with a clear conscience. An annoying swimsuit can end up at the bottom of my wardrobe for several years. Did we understand each other?

- ........

- I'll count that as a yes. It's so cool to have comfortable speedo for a everyday wear.

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.

Supportive pal

(one more reupload from my banned captions)

-Are you serious? Do you really want me to replace your damn swimbriefs for the race by myself? No way!

-Cmon, Lars! This is only for a hour. Coach gonna kill me if he would know that i had forgot my racing speedos again. I need a pair for replace. Please, save me! Othervise i will be kicked out from the swimteam. Swimming is my life!

-Damn you. Okay, but only once. It will be very big favor for you. No one should know about my transformation.

-You are lifesaver! Let’s get me dressed in you. Faster, out start in 10 minutes. - Lars undressed and placed his stuff into friend’s bag. - Now, come here closer and hug my waist- said naked young man -… not here, lower..

- shit! Am i suppose to lean closer to your member? Do it faster!

- otherwise its not gonna work. Speedos are made to cover their owners members, Lars - said Ryan and pressed Lars head to his junk. Lars only eeked and transformation took place very fast. His skin turned red while his body begin rapidly shrink and shange it’s structure from flesh to stretchy fabric. Ryan watched at his friend transformation with a grin. This situation making him aroused. Soon, Ryan was alone in locker room, clad in brand new red speedos. He was rock hard while tight swimsuit keeps his cock up

-Wow, Lars! You are natural swimsuit morpher! Maybe i should keep this comfy pair speedos for a whole season? Lars, can you hear me? Anyway, i think speedos are always want to be speedos. Rayn snapped his waistband in a joy and left lockers

Could you transform me into a soccer tracksuit for a soccer player ?

Hope this is enough!

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