A foot-slave, he thought. That’s the one he’ll go with.
She'll soon be four-footed and completely at his mercy, with brand new arches stretching out from her old palms. Shorter and thicker toes growing in lieu of her precious orange fingers. Let’s see her try to twirl her hair with useless, clumsy toes. He could just imagine her fumbling helplessly at everything she attempted, trying and failing to go about her normal life, slowly but surely accepting her fate as his personal sex toy. He still greatly enjoyed the thought of her perfect nylon body, and he relished in his nighttime ritual of masturbating to the thought of his slutty student; but, something about her becoming disabled with feet for hands created a vengeful undertone to his thoughts. His thoughts started to become a wish, with lust and hatred swirling together to create something much worse. She was going to become a four-footed freak, and he couldn’t possibly imagine any way she could embrace that.
- - -
She laid sprawled out on her bed wearing just a t-shirt and underwear, completely satisfied with today’s accomplishments. She had successfully forced him to stare and gawk at her body all class, her perfect orange seams giving him every ounce of the fantasy he had created on to her. She traced a bright nylon finger up her stomach as she truly started to adore her new alien body. There was no winning for him now--she had outsmarted and outsexed him at every turn.
As she laid in bed, mulling over her sexual triumphs, she felt an odd sensation in her right hand. It bounced back and forth, her right hand to her left, as she drifted off to sleep. It was almost an aching and a buzzing feeling at the same time, her fingers dully pulsing in the night. She disregarded it, and her last thought before drifting off to sleep was of her professor needing to race home to finally relieve himself of all of his pent-up sexual aggression over her shameless brightly-colored teasing. What a perfect thought to end her perfect day...
. . .
When she awoke the next morning, her hands had swollen slightly. It felt as if the nylon that wrapped her up so tightly was getting even tighter, squeezing in on the digits at the end of her palms. She sat with an ice pack on both hands and decided to watch some TV to pass the time until her hands numbed up. Perhaps it was an allergic reaction to something...
She sat down, searching the couch with her eyes for the remote. As her eyes finally found it, she attempted to extend her orange arm, but she was overcome with a heaviness weighing her down her palms. Still, she tried to pick up the remote, but stumbled with what was becoming something very different. They were changing before her eyes--palms becoming fatter and fingers shortening to compact digits.
She began to feel dizzy as a new transformation took over her, her brightly colored palms buzzing and elongating into something much curvier, stretching out her supple orange skin while her plush orange fingers vibrated. With each passing second, her beautiful slender fingers began to shift, becoming shorter and stubbier, the nylon skin retracting with them. There was a sequence of popping sounds followed by immense pain as her fingers began shifting position. She screamed and frantically flipped over what used to be her precious hands, tears welling up in her eyes as she watched her newest transformation come to fruition. Her long fingers were now stubby little colorful toes at the end of what used to be her palms, wiggling feebly in their vibrant new form. Instead of plush bright palms, there were now perfectly arched orange feet with smooth soles at the end of her wrists, flexing and stretching, much like the ones at the ends of her ankles.
- - -
He stood in front of the class, his face squished smug as he was for the first time in over a month able to stand up right in what used to be such a vulnerable position for him. He would never be able to stand in front of his students with her in the room, constantly nagging at him with her body, her beautiful orange skin seamless up her legs, hugging every curve. Even before he used the lamp on her the first time, he was incredibly turned on by just the various colorful toe socks that would adorn her feet every day, propped up on the desk like she owned the place. But that wasn’t the case anymore--not today.
He stood tall and spoke with confidence to his students. Today, yesterday, and the day before that, in fact. She hadn’t shown up to class for three days and he knew exactly why. She could get used to her smooth orange curves and breasts, sure, but feet for hands? This had to be where the line was crossed. He knew that had to be why she stayed home; she felt like an utter monster. First the shock and horror of the transformation would overwhelm her. Then, after the terror subsided, she would have to learn how to live life with her new additions. He chuckled at this thought as he sat at his desk, doodling pictures of his four-footed student with an appalled and horrified look on her face.
- - -
She needed to take a few days to allow what happened to her to sink in. She now had feet for hands. Luckily for her, the feet at the end of her arms were just as perfectly defined as the ones at the ends of her legs. It would be catastrophic to have a pair of ugly feet for hands... She looked herself over for what felt like the millionth time. Smooth arches and a whole new set of bright orange toes. Of course she spent a long time in disbelief, forcing herself to go to sleep hoping she’d wake up from this nightmare. A nightmare she knew exactly was responsible for. He became so bitter and vengeful over her seductive ways, how weak he was for her, that he had somehow transformed her into a nylon-clad, brightly colored four-footed freak. It didn’t take long for her to realize this, and as she did, she surmised he had to have had some sort of magical source that was allowing him to change her body at his will. Maybe there was something to his rambling mutterings about a lamp...
After staring in the mirror and examining her new feet for hours at a time, she came to the conclusion that she needed to get back at him--again. She would embrace this grotesque modification, find beauty and sexiness in her new set of orange feet. She would definitely feed into his alien foot fuck fantasies, if only to show him how strong she was. Nothing can deter her from forcing him to sit behind a desk with a wet spot in front of his pants during each class. She yearned for him to finally take her, bent over his desk with her fabric pussy presented perfectly. She would do anything to make him realize that she’s not so easy to break nor to get rid of, but she also wanted to find out how he was doing this and obtain the same magic for herself. She used this recovery time to take a break from school (much to his pleasure, she was sure) in order adjust to her new life with four feet.
First she would need to master the basics. She started by attempting to brush her hair. She held the brush between two silky feet and angled it down and through the strands. It was a bit more work, and she had to hold it at a more awkward angle, but it was doable. She thought to move on to the more challenging stuff; like taking a shower. She found it easier than expected to take off her clothes, despite clumsily fiddling with the the zipper on her jeans for a few minutes. Success came after using her big toe and second toe to pin the zipper down and pull down carefully. She smiled to herself, and then lifted her shirt up off her head by simply slipping both feet underneath it, and did the same for her underwear. The clasp on her bra was not going to be as easy, especially when working behind her back, so she carefully hooked both feet under and through the straps, gripped the bra between her big and second toes again, and rotated the clasp to the front. She fiddled using all 10 colorful toes now, until finally it released her from its grip.
She slipped her colorful body into the warm, steamy tub. Luckily her hair products were operated by pumps, so she took the sole of one orange foot and pushed down onto her shampoo bottle, splurting product into the bright soft toes of the other foot. She wiggled her toes a bit to lather up the liquid and then used both sets of feet to tangle the shampoo into her hair. It actually felt pretty good, all these new toes massaging into her head and getting all soapy around each strand of hair. She rinsed the shampoo out and went on to wash her face. That wasn’t so bad either, 10 perfect little toes massaging and rubbing against her cheeks and forehead. This felt *really* good. She cracked a smile and then bit her lip. Oh, she wondered, what did he do to her?
She rinsed off her face and looked puzzlingly at her bar of soap. How the hell was she going to manage this one? She grabbed the bar of soap at first with her soft orange toes, and then let it slide between her soles and the bottoms of her new feet. It was so slippery, she fumbled with it a few times before swiftly pining it against the bottom of one foot and the nylon skin on the front of her body. She slowly lathered her entire body with suds, careful not to let the soap bar slip from her orange sole’s grip. She finished up by rinsing off her soapy body and promptly went to grab a towel, pinching her bright toes between the fabric. She had a little difficulty putting it around her, using her heels to wrap it and then attempting a few times to get her toes to tuck the plush fabric inside itself, but eventually got her footing.
Nearing the end of her daily routine, she fumbled greatly with her toothbrush, both colorful feet arching and sticking out in different awkward angles to catch every tooth. She dropped it in the sink twice, but she figured it would come easier with practice. She hadn’t felt like giving up even once--in fact every stumbling accomplishment made her even more determined to get what she wanted; her own magical revenge. She looked down and awkwardly picked up her hairbrush again. She was going to do some shopping today.