Sock Suffocation
My name is Phil Tiny
chapter 13
by
copier
· original author:
vinnyloo
Instead of running, tiny Phil remained on his back this time and tried to protect his face with his little, tired arms. Becky’s sweaty socked toes came to rest on the tiny boy’s chest, and held him firmly to the floorboard of the car. The smell was so overpowering... Phil looked up past his own arms and past his sister’s toes, and saw the delighted grin on Becky’s face.
“Hey, move your arms, twerp,” she chuckled.
Phil didn’t do what she said. After waiting a moment, she slid her foot forward, and her toes touched the tiny boy’s elbows. She pushed on his arms a little - he held them as tight as he could around his little face.
She leaned a bit forward, to see a little better. “I said move your arms,” she smirked, “I want to cover up your face.” Her toes wiggled around his chest - it pounded at him.
Phil was horrified by the huge, delighted grin on his big sister’s face. “But I won’t be able to breathe,” pleaded Phil’s tiny, muffled voice to huge Becky.
“I’ll let you breathe, just move your arms out of the way,” she assured her tiny little brother. Her toes moved forward again, over his arms. She pressed her socked toes down onto them and it blocked out all the light; sweat drenched him, and dripped down from his arms onto his face.
“No!” he cried. It was too much, he wasn’t going to let it engulf his head and face again, if he could stop it. The toes began wiggling around and gripping his arms, and he could hear his sister humming happily up above. He was getting too tired - soon his arms would give out, and his face would be covered by the airtight sweaty sock.
“He certainly isn't minding you, is he Becky?” the mother commented, rhetorically.
"No, he isn't," Becky giggled, wiggling her toes, still trying to wear out the tiny boy's arms.
Their mom paused for a moment. Then she spoke. “Phil, you’ve just earned yourself another date with Becky’s feet on Saturday - and if you want to try for mine on Sunday too, by all means don’t move your arms, sweetie," she proclaimed.
Phil was defeated. He reluctantly relaxed his arms, losing the grip around his own face, and the giant sweat soaked toes pushed their way down, forcing his tired arms off to his sides. His head was caught between Becky’s first and second toe - and there was no air, only sweat and darkness and foot stink.
“Haha! Gotcha!” Becky beamed from above.
Phil gasped, and only got a mouthful of sweat. He began to cough, and get strangled - he tried to turn his head, but her big toes were clamped too tightly around it, and it only hurt his neck to try. He then tried to push her foot off of him with his tired arms, but his hands only made indentations into the sock and didn’t budge the foot at all.
She laughed down at him some more, and started wiggling her toes around again. He was thrust back and forth, as the toes had him by the head, and he had to go with them. He began to cry, but all the sounds were muffled and his tears were soaked into the sweaty sock.
Becky held him with his head between her toes, laughing as she wiggled him around for over a minute. As she finally released her grip, he gasped for air over and over, and looked up with tears rolling down the sides of his face, at his giant sister, still laughing at down him.
“Oh, poor little baby...” she mocked, with a grin.
“I couldn’t breathe, Becky!” he sobbed.
“Don’t be such a wimp, Phil. You’re fine,” she commented. “Now, let’s take these off,” she added, reaching down and pulling off her socks.
“We’re here,” their mom called. Becky looked up; they were in the McDonald’s parking lot.
“I thought we were going through the drive through,” Becky responded.
“Nah, let’s go in,” their mom replied, opening the door of the car and starting to get out.
“Well, where do you want me to put Phil?” Becky asked.
“Hey, move your arms, twerp,” she chuckled.
Phil didn’t do what she said. After waiting a moment, she slid her foot forward, and her toes touched the tiny boy’s elbows. She pushed on his arms a little - he held them as tight as he could around his little face.
She leaned a bit forward, to see a little better. “I said move your arms,” she smirked, “I want to cover up your face.” Her toes wiggled around his chest - it pounded at him.
Phil was horrified by the huge, delighted grin on his big sister’s face. “But I won’t be able to breathe,” pleaded Phil’s tiny, muffled voice to huge Becky.
“I’ll let you breathe, just move your arms out of the way,” she assured her tiny little brother. Her toes moved forward again, over his arms. She pressed her socked toes down onto them and it blocked out all the light; sweat drenched him, and dripped down from his arms onto his face.
“No!” he cried. It was too much, he wasn’t going to let it engulf his head and face again, if he could stop it. The toes began wiggling around and gripping his arms, and he could hear his sister humming happily up above. He was getting too tired - soon his arms would give out, and his face would be covered by the airtight sweaty sock.
“He certainly isn't minding you, is he Becky?” the mother commented, rhetorically.
"No, he isn't," Becky giggled, wiggling her toes, still trying to wear out the tiny boy's arms.
Their mom paused for a moment. Then she spoke. “Phil, you’ve just earned yourself another date with Becky’s feet on Saturday - and if you want to try for mine on Sunday too, by all means don’t move your arms, sweetie," she proclaimed.
Phil was defeated. He reluctantly relaxed his arms, losing the grip around his own face, and the giant sweat soaked toes pushed their way down, forcing his tired arms off to his sides. His head was caught between Becky’s first and second toe - and there was no air, only sweat and darkness and foot stink.
“Haha! Gotcha!” Becky beamed from above.
Phil gasped, and only got a mouthful of sweat. He began to cough, and get strangled - he tried to turn his head, but her big toes were clamped too tightly around it, and it only hurt his neck to try. He then tried to push her foot off of him with his tired arms, but his hands only made indentations into the sock and didn’t budge the foot at all.
She laughed down at him some more, and started wiggling her toes around again. He was thrust back and forth, as the toes had him by the head, and he had to go with them. He began to cry, but all the sounds were muffled and his tears were soaked into the sweaty sock.
Becky held him with his head between her toes, laughing as she wiggled him around for over a minute. As she finally released her grip, he gasped for air over and over, and looked up with tears rolling down the sides of his face, at his giant sister, still laughing at down him.
“Oh, poor little baby...” she mocked, with a grin.
“I couldn’t breathe, Becky!” he sobbed.
“Don’t be such a wimp, Phil. You’re fine,” she commented. “Now, let’s take these off,” she added, reaching down and pulling off her socks.
“We’re here,” their mom called. Becky looked up; they were in the McDonald’s parking lot.
“I thought we were going through the drive through,” Becky responded.
“Nah, let’s go in,” their mom replied, opening the door of the car and starting to get out.
“Well, where do you want me to put Phil?” Becky asked.
152 views
·
March 24, 2025
Log in to comment