Jeff considered many different clothing options. While most people would probably choose a risque option like a pair of panties or even a bra, he was tempted by the idea of being a sock. To be as close as possible to a woman's foot all day long aroused him. He thought about it for a few moments before deciding to at least have a look at what options were available.
Clothing > Female > Accessories > Hosiery
At the next menu, it gave him an input for the hosiery selection. Of course, selecting whose sock he'd become was more cumbersome than he thought. At first glance, it didn't seem possible. It only allowed him to enter a reference number. He didn't quite understand it. Did every sock in the world have a number assigned to it? How would he even know what to put?
Fortunately, a suggestion window popped up, listing a column of "most popular" reference numbers by other users. Still, it was incredibly vague. Jeff had no idea where he would end up. He picked one at random, not that it made much difference. 6308961256342339. He hoped it was a good one.
Of course, he didn't want to spend the rest of his life as a sock. He figured a week would suffice, so he set the time to seven days. When he was through, he gave one last chance to think it over before ultimately deciding to go with it. He hit activate, sending him down an irreversible path. At first, nothing happened. Then, all of a sudden, his body twitched, and in an instant, he was transported.
Darkness. He had no idea where he was now. He couldn't speak or move. He couldn't even tell if he had sight or smell. Without the Chronivac, all he could do was wait. As time passed, he could occasionally hear muffled noises. Eventually, a faint light appeared.
Even though he couldn't move, he could tell he was lying on his side. He was on a wooden surface, looking towards an enormous red object. It had a peculiar pattern with lines running down it. It finally clicked. He was inside a sock drawer next to an assortment of rolled-up socks. He felt stupid for not realizing it sooner. Of all the outcomes, ending up in a random sock drawer seemed the most likely.
Darkness returned as he assumed whoever owned the socks shut the drawer. He suddenly realized his misfortune. Would he even get a chance to be worn before his seven days were up? With no way of keeping track of time, he didn't even know how long he'd been trapped in there. He couldn't even make sense of who his owner was. Was she old? Young? Was she even American?
It was torture, suffering from boredom as he waited. He couldn't sleep even if he tried, probably the effects of being inanimate. Every now and then, the drawer would open, and he would pray that it was his turn to be picked, but the drawer would close again as another pair of socks was chosen. Finally, after who knows how long, it was his time.