Hi everyone. The main purpose of my writing is to help satisfy my obsession with long or high socks. I've been obsessed with knee socks, crew socks, thigh highs, high top sneakers, striped tube socks, tights, nylons, boots...(the list goes on) since I can remember. I realized it was a full blown sock fetish once I learned what a fetish is and haven't stopped since. I hope you enjoy my writing and anyone male, female, or otherwise who shares the same fetish feel free to reach out to me.
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It was hot as hell in the space suit. Jaime had spent just 20 minutes exploring this massive, seemingly empty (abandoned?) ship they'd been told was emitting some strange noises picked up by other passing vessels. She felt a bead of sweat run down her back and into her ass crack. The she was mostly naked inside the suit, only wearing her bra, underwear and socks which were all damp.
The suit was supposed to have its own cooling system but it had failed to fire up when she tried to activate it. Wasn't the first time this had happened. The cut-rate salvage operation she worked for was as cheap as they come.
The ship was mostly dark but the interior life support systems of the ship appeared to still be working. She couldn't take any chances as the reason the ship was empty was not yet clear so the suit had to stay on. The air coming through the filtration system on her helmet was at least cool.
Her partner Jac had split a few minutes ago to try and find a way to get more lights on so they could stop using the LED torches they'd probably need later. She wandered cautiously through the corridors and examined each section closely. Nothing had seemed amiss so far; though such a large ship seemed to have been run on a skeleton crew.
Exiting what appeared to be a bunk room, she could have swore her boot had snagged on something but found only a slight greasy residue on her black combat boot when she shined her torch to have a look. She wasn't sure if it had been there before or not.
Suddenly the comms unit in her suit chirped and Jac came on,
"I think I've found the main electrical closet. Stand by."
Thankfully, the lights came on in fits and starts, some slower than others and some not at all. She keyed her comms and spoke into the open line,
"Well, its not perfect but its better than it was. You coming to me or am i coming to you?"
"Its probably best if-"
The open line died. She tried to raise him again and was not awarded with any response.
"Okayyy, guess im going to him."
The statement was only to herself, beginning to walk in the direction he had taken when they had originally split up. As she walked she noted the smear on her boot was indeed from the ship. As she walked the now lit corridors similar smears were frequently seen around the air vents that perforated the corridors.
Suddenly she was aware of how unprepared her and Jac were to deal with any sort of threat. Armed only with a Glock 17 9mm pistol, a few spare magazines and a fixed blade combat knife; they were ill prepared to deal with something any larger than a human. They had been expecting squatters; not much more. The suit suddenly felt sweltering and she paused a minute to let the anxiety pass. She almost wished she didn't have underwear on but it was necessary to prevent the chaffing the industrial strength suit would surely dish out.
She closed her eyes briefly, leaning against the stainless steel corridor wall and imagined herself on the beach. Somewhere hot but enjoyable. Florida. Humid heat; with a frozen margarita being served to her by a sexy server. The image was spoiled as she felt a bead of sweat roll down the inside of her thigh and hit the top of her already soaked, thick cotton knee sock. She laughed slightly at her choice of hosiery. She had planned on actually being cool inside. The suit was supposed to work. Now she was stuck suffering with her choice. The top of her combat boots were zipped to the outside of the suit and making any adjustments would let in air she wasn't sure was safe.
The anxiety passed and she continued walking slowly, trying to stay as cool as possible and not exert herself. She pressed the comms button again and tried to reestablish contact with Jac. Nothing. It didn't even sound like his communication system was even on anymore. Probably dead from lack of maintenance like the climate control unit on her suit. That's what Jaime told herself anyway. A sudden muffled pop sounded sharply down the long corridor, followed quickly by another. She kicked up her pace. That sure sounded like pistol rounds being discharged. She drew her own sidearm and went on high alert.
She moved quickly as the minutes ticked by; having no idea where exactly where the shots had come from. The sweat had returned as well as the anxiety. Dodging in and out of different rooms; she found nothing.
Finally she noticed the familiar haze of spent gunpowder hanging in the air. Rounding a corner what she saw caused her to freeze in her tracks. In the middle of the corridor a dark form writhed and wrenched, its grayish form an unrecognizable mass surrounded in tentacles. She back-stepped and took up cover around the corner. Letting her breath catch up, she listened closely to the sounds coming around the corner. She drew her Glock. Peeking around the corner, she examined the scene.
She noted Jac's Glock laying on the stainless corridor floor; a spent casing not far from it. Jac was a large man, and he wouldn't have fumbled the pistol accidentally. She noted with horror the creatures size. Had to be at least 8 feet tall. As she sized it up, she realized that there were two black combat boots poking out from the mass. They were not empty, and they were definitely Jac's. Suddenly, the creature spun in its axis and she pulled back, fearing it would catch sight of her.
A stream of expletives ran through her mind. She couldn't even think of shooting the creature. It looked like Jac was held in its center mass. Was he dead? She heard no screams or cries. As if in answer, a strange sound made it to her ears. What the fuck? Was that....laughing? The sound of Jac's deep laughter intensified, sounding slightly off. She had to look.
What she saw was puzzling. Jac was now on his knees, arms secured behind him. He struggled and tugged in vain; laughing uncontrollably. His suit was mostly still on; minus his head protection and respirator. She noted that meant the air was at least not immediately fatal and ducked back around the corner; slightly unzipping her own suit at the back of her neck ever so slightly and waited. Testing. The cool air creeped in and she breathed apprehensively. Crisp, but dank with a smell she assumed was the monster. Safe air however; a small blessing. Jac's laughing continued and she went back to peeking.
It seemed as if the monster was unaware of her presence. No discernible features that denoted optical ability. The monster had Jac secured around his waste with a tentacle that was thicker than most the others that waved erratically around its dark form. He had his eyes closed as the monsters tentacles continued to poke and prod around the outside of his suit. Two thinner tentacles had slithered into the open neck of Jacs suit and she could now see this was the cause of his laughter. The tentacles writhed and prodded, appearing to tickle Jac mercilessly in their exploration.