Sorority Experience: Chapter 13, Stepped On

It was barely an hour from when I watched my crazy ex permanently transform my girlfriend into a too-small sports bra for her athletic sorority sister. I was still in Brooke’s sister sorority house, and still in shock from watching any hope that I had of having my humanity restored walk out wrapped around Hannah’s chest.

Brooke carried my inflatable sex-doll form out of her temporary bedroom in the sorority house, the other girls laughing at me as we walked past.

“Aw, look at poor Nicky and her walk of shame…” one of them called, a girl I didn’t recognize.

Shame did indeed swell through me, the memory of being fucked by some random guy as an inflatable sexdoll still very fresh in my mind.

Thankfully we left the jabs behind as Brooke pushed through a mostly-closed door to reveal a bathroom with a double-sink and a full bathtub shower.

“So I’m running out of creative ways to torment you, but I don’t want to let you off the hook either. So I came up with a way to lazily torture you that doesn’t require any effort on my part!” Brooke excitedly explained as she threw me unceremoniously down to the ground. 

She decided to leave me in suspense, not revealing. Instead, she retrieved her phone and started tapping away. A chill ran through me. Anything inside a bathroom that she could turn me into would certainly be terrible. I didn’t have to wait too long, as Brooke hit the final button on the app and I started to change again. I flattened out, shrinking to a roughly three feet by two foot, flat rectangle. My surface changed from the thin plastic to something thicker and softer.

“There!” She announced happily. “So enjoy your week as a bathmat, I’ll turn you into something else when it’s time to go back home. Maybe. A week is a long time, I might forget where I put you!”

Brooke left the bathroom, laughing to herself. As she crossed the threshold, she flipped the light off and closed the door most of the way. I was left in darkness with only a slight view into the hallway. From here I could see only enough to know if one of the women passed, but not who it was. I was left there alone, left to tense up every time a shadow crossed the door frame.

Finally, the door pushed open and a woman I didn’t recognize came in. She must have been one of the women living in this house whose path I hadn’t crossed yet.

“Hi!” She greeted me with a bubbly personality, waving like a girl from an anime. “So you’re Nick huh?”

As she spoke, she walked over to me, her bare feet getting closer with every step.

“So you’ll be our bathmat for a full week huh?” She asked as her foot landed on me. I could instantly feel the pressure of her weight as the smell of her clearly unwashed foot overtook my senses.

“That’s good because we didn’t have one for a while!” As she talked, she stepped on me with her other foot, increasing the discomfort I was experiencing. “The last one was so worn out and beat up that stepping on the bare floor was probably way cleaner.”

Without missing a beat or slowing at all, she turned her back toward the toilet, which loomed over me menacingly, and pulled her shorts and underwear down around her ankles. I was immediately taken aback by the fact that she had a full, untrimmed bush between her legs. I almost didn’t even notice when her shorts and underwear dropped down onto my surface, though the smell that came off them got my attention.

“I’m glad Brooke picked this type of mat to turn you into, you’re really soft!” as she sat down on the toilet, she flexed her toes, digging them further into the fibers of my body. I could feel the stink of her feet working its way into me, fusing with my body in a way that I didn’t think would ever wash out.

She sat there, casually tapping away on her legs, using the toilet without a care in the world, like I really was just a bathmat and not a person at all.

Soon she finished, wiped herself with a small square of toilet paper, and stood up. As she moved I prayed that she cleaned herself properly and I didn’t catch any drops of her urine. Luckily, she pulled her clothes back up to her hips without accident. She hummed to herself as she washed and dried her hands.

“Bye!” she waved to me as she left the bathroom and closed the door, leaving me in darkness again.

So went the next couple of days. The girls would come in, step all over me with their dirty feet while they used the toilet or took a shower. They rubbed their feet into my fabric harshly, leaving me matted, stinking and feeling grimy like I hadn’t taken a shower in ages. I was mocked and teased mercilessly, humiliated constantly.

But then the teasing stopped completely one day. And while I thought that would be better, it really wasn’t. At least when they teased, they acknowledged my existence. But when they came in, did their business and left, I started to worry that they forgot about me. Would I be left here forever? Forced to watch as these girls graduated and moved out, replaced by others who never knew about me?

Every time the door opened I hoped and prayed for them to tease me, make fun of me, SOMETHING to tell me that they remembered I was here. But it was always quiet.

One morning, the door opened and again my attention snapped to it, like a dog when their owner came home after a long time away. It was Hannah, and my blood ran cold when I saw her, or more accurately, when I saw what she was wearing. She was dressed as if she had just come back from a hard workout and the sheen of sweat and grime on her skin agreed with that assessment. She wore tight shorts that hugged her like a second skin, and up top, she wore Carley, my poor girlfriend now trapped as a sports bra with no hope of turning back.

I hated seeing Carley trapped like that and a sharp guilty feeling fired through me. It was my fault that she was stuck like that. My guilt faded fast, though, my hope and desperate need for Hannah to acknowledge me taking its place. But Hannah simply pushed the door closed and started to peel her socks off.

She removed them one at a time, and tossed them both toward me. I cringed and recoiled internally, watching them almost in slow motion as they fell. Even before they landed on my surface I could smell them, the acrid scent of sweat seeping into my body. They landed on me, and I felt their dampness as if it was pressed into my face. If I still had a mouth or stomach, I would have gagged at the horrid smell.

A moment later, her shorts landed next to them, adding to the smell of sweat. It was made worse by the fact that I could now see that Hannah had worn those shorts without underwear. I was so caught up in the sensations that I almost didn’t notice her struggling with her sports bra, with Carley. Finally, she was able to pull her off over her head and tossed her down onto me as well. I hated myself for cringing away from the smell and dampness. It was my girlfriend after all, but all I wanted was for her to not be touching me anymore.

Hannah heaved a sigh above me, apparently enjoying the feeling of her tight, restrictive clothes being removed. Again I found myself desperate for her acknowledgement, taunt me, tease me, anything to let me know you remember me. And again, nothing, no sign of recognition at all.

Instead, the naked woman dug through the drawers until she found a pair of nail clippers. Stepping back over to me, her feet once again dug into the soft cloth of my body. I watched as she crossed her left foot over her right and started to lower herself down into a seated position. Her giant, bare ass pressed down on me. The smell and dirty, sweaty grime of her naked ass and thighs pressed me down into the floor with a pressure that I had never had to endure up to this point.

Though that wasn’t the worst of it. With a grunt, Hannah pulled her foot toward herself in a cross-legged position. Holding her foot in place, she started clipping her toenails, letting the trimmings fall down onto me. I felt them plinking down one at a time, working their way deep into my soft, cloth body.

More and more of them fell, contributing to my overall feeling of disgust. It didn’t help that every time she shifted, the sweat from her ass worked deeper into me. When she finished, Hannah leaned forward and swiped her hand over my surface in a pathetic attempt to brush her nail clippings off me. Maybe a couple were actually tossed onto the floor, but the vast majority of them were actually pushed further down into the fibers of my surface.

As Hannah climbed to her feet, I could have sworn I heard her giggle, but I couldn’t be sure. Was she giggling because she knew I was here and purposely cut her toenails on me? Or did he forget about me and was giggling about something else entirely? Or did she not even giggle at all and I was imagining things? I couldn’t be sure. All I could do was watch her turn the water on and step into the shower, lamenting that her dirty clothes were still sitting on my body. Eventually, Hannah finished her shower, and left the bathroom wrapped in a towel, taking her clothes, and Carley, with her.

Then I was left again, the door fully closed now, leaving me in full darkness. After who knows how long, the door slammed open, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. Metaphorically of course, as I couldn’t actually move and didn’t have skin.

I looked to the door, where I watched Jessica stumble in backward, followed closely by a man with his shirt off. As they worked their way into the bathroom, their lips locked together in an intense make out session. Their hands ran over the others’ bodies, exploring every inch of flesh. Jessica reached past him and pushed the door roughly closed behind them.

“We have to be quick, we’re really not supposed to have men in the house,” Jessica said between kisses, her hands grabbing at his belt.

“Good thing no one’s home,” the man responded, pulling his pants down his legs.

Jessica grabbed his exposed cock for a second and winked at him. Moving quickly, she let go of him and stepped away, pulling her dress off over her head, dropping it and her panties onto me before turning the shower on.

A flash of rage ran through me at being forced to watch this. The rule about men not being allowed in the house was used as an excuse to keep me transformed, and now I was watching it be broken yet again. But I had other things to deal with as he stepped on me, his gross feet adding to my growing discomfort and disgust. Jessica turned and wrapped her arms around.

Jessica’s hand came down to his hips and took a hold of his cock, roughly rubbing it up and down. As he moaned and grunted, his hand slipped down her body, his fingers flicking back and forth over her clit. After a moment of awkwardly watching this display, I was thankfully spared of the spectacle: the shower apparently heated up and the lovers climbed inside.

From the sounds they made in the shower, I gathered that they were having sex, and changing positions quite often. Both of them grunted and moaned, bumping into the curtain often, sending waves through it. A couple times I was afraid they would come bursting through it, the shifting was so violent.

“Get on your knees…” I heard Jessica demand. “Put that tongue to work…”

I didn't hear him respond, but from the sounds Jessica started to make, I could tell that he complied. The curtain continued to be hit repeatedly as the sorority president moaned her approval at her lover’s efforts. Before long, she was screaming through what sounded like a pretty powerful orgasm.

“So… my turn now?” the man asked as Jessica’s screams quieted down.

“Hmmm, sure,” Jessica responded. “But let’s get out of the shower, hot water’s running out…”

I cursed to myself. If they were getting out of the shower, that meant they likely planned to continue their session on top of me. Sure enough, the water turned off and the curtain was thrown back. A clearly winded Jessica stepped out of the tub, turned back toward him and dropped down onto her knees on top of me, waving him over invitingly.

The man smiled and climbed out to stand in front of her, perfectly centered on top of me. As he approached, Jessica took his cock in her hand and leaned toward him, taking his meat into her mouth. I hated everything about what was happening. Not only was he standing directly on me with his feet that had not gotten washed at all in that ‘shower,’ but I had to watch him get sucked off. And I didn’t want to think about what would happen if Jessica wasn’t a swallower…

Above me, Jessica’s hand and mouth worked expertly over him, causing his hips to grind and grunts to escape his lips. It was clear that he was getting close to bursting. I tensed up, dreading his eventual orgasm. Turns out that I didn’t have to wait for long.

The man’s grunts and moans reached a head, betraying his climax. Jessica suddenly choked and coughed audibly, apparently not properly prepared for his load. She pulled back off him to recover and I watched, almost in slow motion as a drop of his disgusting load fell from his cock and landed squarely onto me.

I silently wretched to myself, the feeling and smell hitting me like a truck. He sighed and stepped back while Jessica wiped her lips with the back of her hand and stood up.

“That was fun,” she said teasingly. “Now get out of here before the sisters get back. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”

“Really?” he responded, his voice very clearly annoyed and insulted.

“Really really,” Jessica winked. They both left the bathroom and closed the door, leaving me even more disgusting and dirty than before. Brooke still knew I was here, right?