Chapter #3Kick-Off with Katherine by: Steamgear   "Soccer teams been waiting the longest..." Sylvia mutters, moving back towards the Metroville locker room, "Just hope April goes easy on you."
You barely heard the last part, but judging by the tone she used, April wasn't someone you wanted to met. Fortunately, you probably wouldn't be meeting the whole soccer team for a little bit. Though the reason why might make you wish otherwise...
"Do we get him?" The voice may have startled you, but it had Sylvia nearly jump out of her clothes. She stopped short of shrieking and managed to not drop you to the tiled floor below.
The two of you looked on at the perpetrator, someone both of you instantly recognized. It was kind of hard not to recognize the only dedicated athlete in Metroville, Katherine. A very toned girl with above average assets and a constant sheen of sweat along her body, one seemingly developed for the sole purpose of playing her sport of choice.
"Oh...Katherine, you scared me," Sylvia sighed, pressing her free hand over her chest, "I was just bringing him to the locker room."
"J...just give him to me. I'll take him there," Katherine replied, her tone a little insistent as she held out her hand.
Sylvia honestly didn't see a problem with this. In fact, it was probably better if the team captain brought the mascot in. Katherine could enforce order in the rowdy and excited girls, plus then she wouldn't have to deal with her sister doing everything she could to have first go. So with a shrug of agreement, she dumped you into Katherine's awaiting palm.
"Make sure April goes easy on him," Sylvia added as she turned and walked away.
"Sure thing, thanks Sylvia!" Katherine replied, not paying attention to the robotics team captain as she looked down at you with a pleased smirk.
"Uh...so about these traditions..." You began to speak, but the soccer captain had other plans.
Wordlessly she pressed her toe against the heel of her left cleat, effortlessly popping it off her foot. She slipped her foot out, covered in a well-worn ankle sock that had already been through an early morning practice today. She flexed her toes, an audible pop echoing through the hallway as the tired digits stretched out. You saw Katherine take a sidelong glance towards the locker room door before dropping to a knelling position. She held you by the tail, dangling you over the mouth of her shoe. You shuddered as you felt a stale heat rise from below, smelling of sweat and hard work.
"I can't stand these school cleat insoles....so cheap and uncomfortable," Katherine explained, already beginning to dip you deeper towards the entrance. You could easily make out the indent of Katherine's foot, pressed into the shoe in a clear indent. A faded size marker sat just below the tongue of the shoe, reading 8.
Without warning, the view became much clearer as Katherine released her grip on the costume's tail. You fell only about a dozen feet, your impact cushioned by the suit you were wearing, much like Katherine's foot would soon be cushioned by it. Unable to fully quickly sit up courtesy of the costume's awkward design, you were forced to watch as the soccer star lifted up her foot, the bottom of her sock coming into view. You could see damp patches of old sweat, mingling with a layer of dust from standing barefoot for even a few seconds. With neither mercy nor warning, it dove like a dolphin into the shoe. Yet gracefully, it slide over you, the toes and the ball of the foot merely grazing you. As the toes became settled though, the arch of her foot pressed down on you. When she finally popped her heel into the tight cleat, you were sealed inside.
"Can't have my team knowing about you yet, I NEED arch support for this game," Katherine explained, taping the toe of her shoe against the floor as she spoke. That gave you a brief respite, time to take in the foul stench of Katherine's unwashed socks, a potent combination of unwashed cotton and foot sweat, enough to make you gag.
Once she started moving though, everything became a blur of sensory torment. The crushing weight of her foot falls with each step she took, the pressure increasing tenfold when she had only one foot on the ground. The chaotic back and forth rocking that came with each step, flinging you like a terrifying amusement park ride. All of this made your stomach turn when it combined with the nauseating smell of Katherine's socks. A wave of dizziness washed over you as you closed your eyes, the feeling of the damp cotton wall and warm mass behind becoming amplified when you couldn't see.
Outside, Katherine didn't bother stopping at the locker room. She was already fully dressed and ready for the game. She just had to get out on the field. Even before she made it to the game, she could tell you were going to do wonders for her sore feet. The soft fur of the suit was a thousand times better than the worn out soles in the cleats, plus she had to admit your subtle movements were almost like a personal foot massage.
After a few minutes trapped in Katherine's shoe, things were about to get worse, much worse. You realized she had stopped, no one was moving. Overhead, through the layers of fabrics and canvas composing the cleat, you heard voices. While you couldn't make anything out, Katherine heard it crystal clear. The ref wanted a nice clean game, even though the Cats had started off with their usual taunts. Standing in her position as forward, Katherine prepared for the game to start.
There was a shrill cry of a whistle as Katherine's foot sped towards the ball, bringing you unfortunately with it. She made contact, her foot forced downward against you, dragging you against the insole. You were beginning to understand why Katherine wanted more support as you felt the harsh rubber of the sole beneath you. That said, the heavy foot above made you a little less empathetic.
Having control of the ball, Katherine made her way down the field, dribbling the ball between steps. Though she didn't favor the foot you were under, that didn't make things any less worse. First her foot would come down, the entire weight of her body coming behind it as she sprinted with each step. It made you feel like the rubber ball a circus elephant might balance on. Then came her foot tapping the ball to move it forward. Since she hit it with the inner curve of her foot, you could physically fill the rhythmic thump-thump of the house sized rubber mass just beyond the shoe. It made the shoe feel like it was caving in, time and time again, pressing your face against Katherine's instep each time it did.
Outside, Katherine saw the net. She wanted to show the Cats that she meant business. You felt what was coming as gravity did a somersault, your stomach electing to stay behind like at the top of a roller coaster. Her foot lifted high behind her, then accelerated forward like a Japanese bullet train. It hit the ball straight on, and had you been between her toes, your mascot-costumed body would probably be paste by now.
The kick was over, the ball had sailed towards the net. And yet it quickly became evident that you weren't stopping. The sock-covered ceiling slide past you as the shoe continued on without its owner, sent spiraling through the sky. Yes, in her haste to get you underfoot, Katherine hadn't bothered to check to make sure her shoelaces were tight and now she was paying the price. Face flush red, she ran towards where her shoe had landed.
In the chaos, you found yourself, freed from the shoe in midair. Sailing over the soccer field at dizzying heights, you shut your eyes tight. A second later you felt the hard impact as you blacked out almost immediately. Your size and suit brought you increased durability, but things still wouldn't be looking up as you slowly awoken a few minutes later. You were certainly no longer Katherine's insole, but looking around you found that instead you were...
1. ...being dropped on the Metroville player's bench where you can better serve the team as a seat cushion for a tired Katherine's sweaty backside.
2. ...stranded in the middle of the soccer field, just next to the ball, with a choice between climbing on it or being trampled by a dozen different players
3. ...in the shadow of Chadwell's mascot, Selina, who is well aware of you and ready for a "halftime show"  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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