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,,Well, mr. Devin" -Said Lola, rolling her thigh-high sock up to her foot. ,,It's that time of the week again."
Trapped inside the part of the sock still covering Lola's foot, mr. Bill Devin, her former tutor, sighed. He knew exactly what was about to happen.
,,You've got five minutes to get out of my sock. If you make it, you win your freedom, if you fail, the sock stays on." -Said Lola.
Ever since Bill shrank down in Lola's room two months ago, he became the spoiled brat's foot slave. The worst part of the week were fridays, like today. Lola liked promising her tiny slave freedom as an award for escaping. Failure meant the rest of the day and night spent inside the hot, unwashed sock, along with Lola's foot.
To Lola's surprise, Bill actually managed to escape on his fifth attempt, three weeks ago. The girl was very amused to see her teacher's struggles, and she was even more amused by the look on his face, when she explained to him the freedom only meant being free from her sock for the day.
Ever since then, Bill stopped caring. He wouldn't struggle to escape like he did before and barely cared about anything, which made it more and more boring for Lola.
,,Five minutes. The time starts...now!" -Said Lola. However, she felt no movement inside her sock. She knew mr. Devin gave up on trying.
Four minutes in, Lola spoke up. ,,Oh yeah, I should also mention. Your wife is in the other room." -She giggled, pushing the door next to her sofa to slightly open it. ,,I asked mom to invite her. You know, friendly gesture, being concerned and all."
Bill froze up. Through the fabric of Lola's sock and the ajarred door, he heard a familiar voice. His heart started beating restlessly. He couldn't believe it. It was really her. Why was the brat only saying it NOW?
He now put all of his strength to move about inside the huge, damp sock. Lola chuckled quietly, putting a lollipop in her mouth - her toy was finally being fun again.
The tiny man struggled to move against the fabric, slowly sliding down the sock. He put up a valiant effort, but he knew there's no way he can get through all the layers of rolled up sock in just one minute.
,,You know what, I think I'll extend your time till she leaves." -Whispered Lola to her sock, so as not to be heard in the other room.
With renewed motivation, Bill started working his way through all the wrinkles of wet fabric separating him from freedom. If only he could get out, fall down, and run to the door, his wife would see him. He would finally be free.
The tutor kept thrashing about in the young girl's sock, putting all his strength to get free, while she relaxed with her lolly, occasionally giggling at the tickling sensation inside her sock.
After about ten minutes, he heard Lola speak again.
,,Oh, I think they got up." -She said to her foot. ,,Yeah, I can see her. She's walking towards the door, you better hurry."
Bill could almost feel the fresh air, he knew he's close.
,,Oh, she's putting her heels on. My mom's opening the door."
Bill stuck his left arm outside. He could hear his wife's footsteps, the characteristic high heels clatter. His heart racing like never before, he tried to push the rest of his body out of the sock.
He then heard the door slam. Then silence.
,,...welp." -Said Lola.
She then rolled her sock up with a mischievous giggle.
,,You know the rules, I'm not removing that sock until morning." -She laughed. ,,But this was fun. How about we make this a weekly thing, invite her more often?"
For the next few years, fridays became even worse for Bill than before. The ever-present hope of freedom, the voice of his wife in the other room, his desperate but sloppy struggle inside the sock, always cut by the clatter of his wife's high heels and the door slamming shut.
He almost wished she stopped coming and giving him hope, but never said it out loud - he knew it would only make Lola happier to know of his suffering. She enjoyed his struggles too much and couldn't wait for fridays. For contrast, Bill now dreaded the sound of his wife's heels, as if it was freedom itself walking by, always teasing, but ultimately stepping on all of his hopes and leaving him behind.

Description
,,Well, mr. Devin" -Said Lola, rolling her thigh-high sock up to her foot. ,,It's that time of the week again."
Trapped inside the part of the sock still covering Lola's foot, mr. Bill Devin, her former tutor, sighed. He knew exactly what was about to happen.
,,You've got five minutes to get out of my sock. If you make it, you win your freedom, if you fail, the sock stays on." -Said Lola.
Ever since Bill shrank down in Lola's room two months ago, he became the spoiled brat's foot slave. The worst part of the week were fridays, like today. Lola liked promising her tiny slave freedom as an award for escaping. Failure meant the rest of the day and night spent inside the hot, unwashed sock, along with Lola's foot.
To Lola's surprise, Bill actually managed to escape on his fifth attempt, three weeks ago. The girl was very amused to see her teacher's struggles, and she was even more amused by the look on his face, when she explained to him the freedom only meant being free from her sock for the day.
Ever since then, Bill stopped caring. He wouldn't struggle to escape like he did before and barely cared about anything, which made it more and more boring for Lola.
,,Five minutes. The time starts...now!" -Said Lola. However, she felt no movement inside her sock. She knew mr. Devin gave up on trying.
Four minutes in, Lola spoke up. ,,Oh yeah, I should also mention. Your wife is in the other room." -She giggled, pushing the door next to her sofa to slightly open it. ,,I asked mom to invite her. You know, friendly gesture, being concerned and all."
Bill froze up. Through the fabric of Lola's sock and the ajarred door, he heard a familiar voice. His heart started beating restlessly. He couldn't believe it. It was really her. Why was the brat only saying it NOW?
He now put all of his strength to move about inside the huge, damp sock. Lola chuckled quietly, putting a lollipop in her mouth - her toy was finally being fun again.
The tiny man struggled to move against the fabric, slowly sliding down the sock. He put up a valiant effort, but he knew there's no way he can get through all the layers of rolled up sock in just one minute.
,,You know what, I think I'll extend your time till she leaves." -Whispered Lola to her sock, so as not to be heard in the other room.
With renewed motivation, Bill started working his way through all the wrinkles of wet fabric separating him from freedom. If only he could get out, fall down, and run to the door, his wife would see him. He would finally be free.
The tutor kept thrashing about in the young girl's sock, putting all his strength to get free, while she relaxed with her lolly, occasionally giggling at the tickling sensation inside her sock.
After about ten minutes, he heard Lola speak again.
,,Oh, I think they got up." -She said to her foot. ,,Yeah, I can see her. She's walking towards the door, you better hurry."
Bill could almost feel the fresh air, he knew he's close.
,,Oh, she's putting her heels on. My mom's opening the door."
Bill stuck his left arm outside. He could hear his wife's footsteps, the characteristic high heels clatter. His heart racing like never before, he tried to push the rest of his body out of the sock.
He then heard the door slam. Then silence.
,,...welp." -Said Lola.
She then rolled her sock up with a mischievous giggle.
,,You know the rules, I'm not removing that sock until morning." -She laughed. ,,But this was fun. How about we make this a weekly thing, invite her more often?"
For the next few years, fridays became even worse for Bill than before. The ever-present hope of freedom, the voice of his wife in the other room, his desperate but sloppy struggle inside the sock, always cut by the clatter of his wife's high heels and the door slamming shut.
He almost wished she stopped coming and giving him hope, but never said it out loud - he knew it would only make Lola happier to know of his suffering. She enjoyed his struggles too much and couldn't wait for fridays. For contrast, Bill now dreaded the sound of his wife's heels, as if it was freedom itself walking by, always teasing, but ultimately stepping on all of his hopes and leaving him behind.