Foot Smelling Stories Novels & Stories

Isla By the time I stumbled into my apartment, my feet were screaming in protest. I kicked off my heels the way a prisoner sheds shackles, wincing as the raw skin at my heels caught on the strap. Blisters. Deep ones. I hobbled to the bathroom, filled a basin with warm water, and lowered my feet in with a hiss that could have woken the dead. The sting made my eyes water, but the relief was immediate.

I always slept with my boots on to avoid getting the hard skin under my feet eaten by the rats with ugly long parrot-like mouth. And to top it all, it had this awful smell that could lead to the sudden death of an infant. The fucker's clothes where thrown across everywhere. And when it rained, tiny rain drops from the rooftop made it's way into the house. Fuck O.C again for making me go through this shit. I could do nothing with my fractured hand. Touching it alone fucking hurts. And damn, it was my right hand. Douglas was tossed out of school like I did.

"Nothing quite like the aroma of unwashed socks." Freya twisted to look at him, eyebrow raised. "And here I thought you soldiers were all about that manly musk." "Oh yeah, nothing says 'manly' like trench foot," Dan retorted, rolling his eyes. He paused, then added more seriously, "Though you get used to it, I suppose. Same way you probably get used to the hospital smell." Freya nodded, turning back to nestle against him. "True. Though I prefer the scent of antiseptic to rotting flesh any day."

Just when I was about to return to my room, I heard something. It did not come from Yvonne’s room, but the entrance. I walked over tentatively, and what I saw shocked me to my core. The entrance was a mess. The shoes were strewn all over the floor. The shoe array Yvonne had meticulously set up for a week had ended up in this state. Even more bizarre were marks I had never seen before on the floor. They were not footprints but strange tracks, like something had crawled over. The tracks went from the entrance and led to the door of my room.

"Are you saying I'm a stinky breath like you?" "Yes!" Was Lissa's loud and irritated reply. "It actually smells like a foot that had been wearing a sock for weeks and it got wet in the rain. In short, it smells like a foot, more like poop." Anthony latched on Lissa until he was almost laying on top of her, just until his foot was on top of Lissa's nose. He pressed it against her face even more, forcing the latter to sniff it. "There, that's what a foot smell like. Enjoy."

I let out a short laugh and hurried to polish off my hot dog so I could have some marshmallows as well. Dinner was an odd affair. It was strange to sit around and tell stories and laugh as if we were camping. Gerard was telling a tale about the time he was fifteen and thought he could hike across a mountain with a bag of potato chips and mini snickers bars. He had only spent a night then around two a.m. he was ran off by what he swears to this day was Bigfoot.

"We had this fight already. Multiple times. He hates anything on his feet." "He needs something. He can't go to restaurants, stores, anywhere with a 'no shoes, no service' sign in cat slippers three sizes too small." What followed was a battle. Rowan tried sneakers. I growled. She tried boots. I nearly threw them across the store. She tried something called "loafers" which were just as bad as everything else. "What is wrong with all of these?" Rowan demanded. "They trap." I struggled for the words. "Can't feel ground. Can't move toes. Feet need to breathe."

My shoes were wrong, too narrow, the backs digging into my heels, and I wanted to take them off and walk barefoot, but I couldn’t—not with people watching, not with the whole world lit up and ready to judge. We passed a group of students, three girls and a guy. I smelled blood. Fresh blood. My head snapped toward them before I could stop it, and I caught it immediately: the girl on the right, olive skin, bandage on her knee. She’d scraped it that morning, probably, but I could smell the scab under the gauze, the way her body was already trying to heal. Just close to her was another girl. And her smell was so strong it was unmistakable: period blood. I could smell it, track it, knew exactly w

Before they left, they warned Adam with a thumb slashing on neck. As an answer, Adam sent them a middle finger. ‘They look like high school students who love to fight. Geez.’ Of course, knowing how Adam’s business works, I have no doubts that this is a serious and life-threatening case. ‘I survived again.’ "You can't go back and get your shoes," Adam, who's still breathing so hard, said. That was him, saying that I had to walk barefoot on the way to the condominium. I looked back at my feet and wondered how to walk with only one shoe.

Valfred turned around to speak to the Beta while others took a seat on the floor. I quickly removed my boots, digging loudly when I got to stretch my legs. Thankfully, my feet didn't stink. I'm a lady, why would my feet stink? The shoes he brought for me seemed to be a few sizes bigger which made my feet feel like they were at a park, just running around freely. I got up so that I wouldn't waste their time. “Do they feel good?” I nodded with a huge smile on my face. Why was I smiling like that? The smile dropped as I nodded my head.