RR Lori Warren - Chapter 40

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Reduction & Relocation: Lori Warren

Chapter 40 - Best Foot Forward

[January 21st, 2006]

Isabella approached the closed door across from her own bedroom.  She sighed, thinking back to the days when she and Victoria had to actually share a room.  It seemed like a lifetime ago but the memories were still vivid and raw.  After their parents divorced, everything changed.  For reasons none of them understood at the time, they had to sell the house.  Then she and her sisters moved into a cramped 2-bedroom apartment with their mom. 

Gina was the oldest so she got to have her own bedroom and Mom slept out in the living room.  Which meant that Isabella had to share a room with Victoria. After many, many fights about cleanliness and their drastically different opinions about style, their mom resorted to applying a line of thick gray tape down the center of the room.  One side for Isabella and the other for Victoria.

Isabella’s side was always perfect and well maintained. Her bed was always made with crisp, white linen sheets. Her closet doors were always shut, but if someone were to peek in, they’d find shoes lined up neatly on the rack and clothing organized by type and color.

Victoria’s side was a whirlwind of clutter and chaos.  The transparent green ball containing her hamster would roll noisily along the hardwood floor, occasionally getting hung up on clothing that had spilled out of her open drawers or dirty hamper. It looked like two tornadoes had shown up and then gotten into a fight over which tornado was better!

“Stay on your side!” Isabella may as well have recorded the command onto a walkman and played it on repeat.  But it would have been no more effective; Victoria’s mess inevitably encroached on her territory and Victoria would just roll her eyes and laugh. Isabella hated it—She remembered nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the sounds of Victoria’s restless sleep and incessant snoring. 

Their mom would often point out the hilarity that Victoria and Isabella were fraternal twins, with Victoria born only 18 minutes after Isabella.  Not only did they look remarkably different from one another, but the thought of them even sharing space in their mother’s womb for nine months was unbelievable. 

But that was a long time ago.  Their mom had gotten a better job and moved the three of them out of that tiny apartment and into the beautiful house they called home today.  Not only could Isabella have her own space to fully control as she saw fit, but she’d never have to subject herself to the grossness of Victoria’s living space again. 

Funny how things work out.  Isabella was voluntarily breaking that promise she’d made to herself as she twisted the knob of Victoria’s bedroom door.

“This is Victoria’s room…” Isabella whispered to Michael. “She’s a super heavy sleeper like Mom but we should still be quiet just in case.”

The air of Isabella’s bedroom was always fresh and scented with lavender or vanilla.  Stepping into Victoria’s room was like entering another universe . As Isabella nudged the door to Victoria’s bedroom open, her upper lip curled as she was immediately assaulted with a stale smell. The floor was barely visible beneath the chaos of clothes, books, and miscellaneous items strewn haphazardly. Each step felt like navigating a minefield. Posters of bands and celebrities covered the walls, some hanging askew, others peeling at the corners. Her desk was a disaster zone, cluttered with mostly empty plates of food, soda cans, empty wrappers, and an array of school supplies scattered without any semblance of order.

Amidst the chaos and foul disrespect of cleanliness was the one who had caused all of it.  Victoria lay sprawled out atop her twin bed  It should come as no surprise to learn that Victoria was not as elegant or peaceful a sleeper as Isabella was.  Like her mother, Victoria snored loudly and she slept erratically, often tossing and turning throughout the night.  The pant legs of her pajama pants were scrunched and bunched up toward her knees from all the sleep movement and her black t-shirt was pulled up enough to expose her soft, white back.

Isabella silently crept up toward the foot of Victoria’s bed as Victoria rolled sleepily onto her stomach, pressing her cheek against her pillow; the blanket now only covered her lower back down about halfway to her thighs.  The sleepy teen dangled a small sock-clad foot off the side of the bed. 

The sock that hugged Victoria’s tiny foot was white…but it was in a very different category of ‘white’ than Isabella’s socks.  Isabella’s socks were only a few weeks old and were washed regularly.  And when they lost their shining and glowing, pristine white look, she’d throw them away and get new ones.  

Victoria was much more…loyal to her older clothing; that was probably the nicest way Isabella could put it. The sock on her dangling right foot was dingy from dozens, if not hundreds of times worn. The off-white color was distributed evenly all over most of the sock except for the poor, tortured underside, where the white color was closer to a grayish, almost brownish hue. The discoloration was most prominent up toward the heel, the ball of the foot, and then down at the toes that pointed toward the teen’s unvacuumed brown carpet.

‘I seriously can’t believe I’m doing this…’ Isabella grumbled to herself as she slowly dropped to her knees.  She could barely even tolerate her own feet let alone someone else’s (double let alone her gross sister’s!). The early morning intruder sat on her heels and with surgical care, pinched the ankle portion of the sock and started gently tugging down.  

Clearing the heel was the hardest part. Well, actually, touching Victoria’s gross, practically threadbare sock without puking was the hardest part, but Isabella held back the urge to gag. Isabella looked up to double check that Victoria was still asleep.  Sure enough, there was a pool of saliva developing on Victoria’s pillow directly below her open mouth. Victoria’s foot twitched, causing the bare sole to graze Isabella’s fingertips.  The wrinkled skin was softer than expected, but that didn’t make the contact any less gross.  

Once over Victoria’s heel, the “white” sock slid easily against the teen’s foot, spitting out a soft wrinkle-free sole and then five short, chubby toes.  The toes wiggled and curled in the exposed air and then they disappeared under the covers in pursuit of warmth.  It must have been at this moment that Michael put two and two together because he started doing that annoying squeaking thing all over again. 

“Shhh!” Isabella hissed directly into his face, pinching his frail, tiny little arm.  She used much more force than necessary, but she got what she wanted: his silence.

Ironically, it was Isabella’s call for silence, not Michael’s squeaking, that seemed to cause Victoria to stir in her bed.  She rolled over onto her back and groaned.  Isabella completely froze there at her sister’s bedside as Victoria stirred.  Her eyes fluttered open and her gaze fell directly upon Isabella.  

“What are you doing?” Victoria’s voice was slurred with sleep and her eyes were unfocused.  Her hair was a tangled mess and her cheek shimmered with drool. 

“I... I was just...” Isabella stammered, her brain scrambling for an excuse. Victoria’s gaze seemed to pierce right through her and then wander down to her hand where even Michael had fallen dead silent.  For a terrifying moment, Isabella thought she had been caught. With Michael in one hand and one of Victoria’s gross socks in the other, Isabella was about to rattle off the best excuse she could think of, but then Victoria reached lazily toward her nightstand. She clumsily wrestled her phone from the tangled mess of phone charger cords and lifted it to her ear. 

“But I’m just asking…when did we make a Myspace for the freezer?” Victoria slurred as her eyes fluttered.  Before getting an answer to her question, either from Isabella or the unopened phone, Victoria fell limp like a sack of potatoes and resumed her slumber.

The room was silent except for the sound of Victoria’s obnoxious snoring. Isabella exhaled slowly, her muscles unclenching as the tension melted away. She stifled a giggle, bringing the hand holding Michael up to her mouth to muffle the sound.

Isabella was almost done. 

She lifted the blanket to expose Victoria’s other foot.  Now that Victoria was lying on her back, her toes pointed straight up. Luckily for Isabella, the un-matching sock on Victoria’s other foot had already begun removing itself from her foot–as if it was trying to escape.  The mouth of the equally thread-bare sock stretched tight enough around Victoria’s sole that it wouldn’t have slid off on its own, but all it needed was a little assistance to complete its escape.  

That’s where Isabella came in.

Isabella pinched the tip of the sock, right where the faded pink text HANES was printed along the bottom. It came off even easier than the first one. “This is so gross…” Isabella muttered under her breath, holding the socks delicately between her fingers at the ankle. She tried to avoid contact as much as possible, but she could feel how old and worn they were. The bottoms were no longer soft and fluffy like her own socks; these had been pounded into the ground under Victoria’s soles countless times, the cotton fibers flattened, pummeled, and consequently thinned.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste, the smell of sweat and dirt lingering in the air. The rough and stiff texture of the socks made her shudder. With deliberate slowness, Isabella backed away from Victoria’s bed, her eyes never leaving her sister’s sleeping form and her feet barely making a sound on the cluttered floor. She reached the door and paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, she turned it slowly, the mechanism clicking quietly as she opened the door just enough to slip through.

Once in the hallway, Isabella pulled the door closed behind her with a soft click, leaning against the wall for a moment to steady herself. Her heart was still racing from the near miss and she waited a full thirty seconds, listening for any sign of her younger sister’s stirring.  She heard none, and a triumphant smile spread across her face. 

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

Isabella moved with much more purpose this time as she descended the staircase. She bee-lined for the laundry room, faster than a well-endowed bra-less woman would normally walk, where the two backpacks remained hung. She set Michael down carefully on top of the washing machine lid. Michael spasmed as his little feet made contact with the cold metal, flinching as if he’d been electrocuted.  Isabella set one of Victoria’s dirty socks next to Michael and took a moment to appreciate the surreality. 

It was kinda crazy.  Victoria’s socks were small (and why wouldn’t they be? She had the smallest feet of her sisters).  But even that small sock absolutely dwarfed little Michael.  

“Okay..” Isabella said, carefully opening the other sock still in her hand.  She hated that she was about to do this, but she needed to have an idea of how effectively Michael would be marked by Victoria’s scent.  She brought the mouth of the sock to her face and breathed gently in through her nose. 

Her face wrinkled up at the pungent odor assaulting her delicate, twitching nostrils. The sock reeked of old sweat and grime from days of wear, but there was also a sharp mildew that accompanied the musk. Isabella reflexively tossed the sock atop the washing machine. “Okay…this is a convincing plan. There is absolutely no way Mom would ever think that I’d even touch one of Vicky’s gross socks…and for good reason. I’m seriously about to barf just barely touching them as it is. So what we’re gonna do is this…new plan: we’re gonna make it look like Vicky put you in her dirty socks.  It’s totally something she would do, by the way.”

Michael looked horrified but Isabella had never been more proud of her impromptu planning. “This is actually an even better plan than before because not only will Mom have no doubt in her mind about who stole you, but Vicky might even get in extra trouble for putting you somewhere so gross! It's a perfect plan!”

“No! Isabella, please!  It’s filthy in there! I can’t do this!!” Michael pleaded.  

With a steady hand, she pinched the opening of one sock, stretching it wide–not so wide as to cram a foot in, but wide enough to fit Michael inside. "Yes you can, Michael. And yes you will." she said matter-of-factly. Her tone left no room for argument, but Micheal would surely live up to his level of annoyance and make room. .He was fighting to get away from her fingers up until the moment that she was dangling him over the gaping mouth of Victoria’s well worn sock.  Now he was frantically grabbing onto Isabella’s fingers.  “Please, Isabella! Just take me back to your Mom!”

Isabella sighed.  She was tired and wanted to go back to bed.  Part of her wanted to just drop him right then and there and be done with it…but she couldn’t.  She couldn’t just drop him into the sock, put him in Victoria’s backpack, and go back to sleep like she wanted to.  This whole plan depended on Michael playing along.  Sure, she could put him in Victoria’s dirty sock and make him spend the rest of the night there. Isabella was infinitely stronger…she could do anything to him. But making him do things…that wouldn’t come quite as easily.  

Once Michael was returned to her mom, the first thing she’d probably ask him is what happened, and he’d have to go along with the story…he’d have to tell her that Victoria kidnapped him. Isabella lifted him away from the sock’s gaping mouth and he thanked her.  He thought she had changed her mind…poor little thing.  

Isabella brought him closer to her face. She found that she could make boys nervous just by looking them in the eyes.  It was fun sometimes to see the impact such an innocuous gesture had, but this was a whole other level.  She stared him in the eyes and he literally trembled to behold her.  Her lips gently rubbed against her braces as they pulled back in a cute smile. She needed to lay it on thick here, but she needed to maintain the correct balance.

“Michael, I know you’re scared and that’s okay…but listen…you need to be a team player here.  We need to send that brat a message.  She needs to know that she can’t screw with us! I’ve seen the way you used to look at her at dinner.  I know you don’t like her!”

“It’s not that I don’t like her…I’m…terrified of her.” Michael admitted.

“Well, even better!  You need to face your fears!  We need to get back at her, and this is how we do it!”

Michael looked away from Isabella and grasped his tiny head with his tiny hands.  “Oh god..I’ve been working so hard.  Your mom…she didn’t trust me for so long but now she finally does. Things have been so much better; things have been so much easier.  We’re…we’re going to the comedy show. Oh my god…this is going to ruin everything... Isabella, I’m begging you…she’s…she’s…What if something goes wrong?” Michael was positively frantic. “What if she doesn’t believe me?  What if she thinks I tried running away?  I’m going to be in so much trouble..”

Isabella rolled her eyes, “Jeez, will you take a chill pill?  Seriously! You are NOT the one that's gonna get in trouble, okay? I promise you.” She gestured sharply over her head to her sleeping sister’s bedroom. “Vicky’s the one who’s gonna get in trouble. And your job is seriously so easy. All you have to do is trust me and relax, okay?”

Isabella let out a sigh, softening her voice even more “Listen…I know it's not going to be exactly fun for you in there.  But I’ll…I dunno…I’ll find a way to make it up to you somehow…How about I get you a snack or something.  Whatever you want.”

His abrupt expression change startled Isabella.  “Pretzels?!” Michael blurted out.

“Uhhh…you want me to get you pretzels?  Sure, I can get you some pretzels.  I thought my mom already gave you pretzels but whatever.”

“She stopped getting them for me!  I haven’t had anything but…”

Michael had started speaking with such conviction and gusto…and his tone was that of someone about to tattle.  But then he trailed off and broke eye contact.  Isabella didn’t care enough about the strange relationship Michael shared with her mother.  She cared more about getting him on her side and moving things along.

“Whatever, that’s fine.  I’ll get you pretzels.  I promise.  You just need to go along with this.  We’re a team and our stories have to match.”

Initially, Isabella thought her pep talk had inspired Michael to new levels of cooperation, but when she followed his wandering eyeline, she rolled her eyes. 

Michael's gaze was mostly fixed on her, but his eyes kept drifting. His expression was a mix of awe and distraction, and she quickly realized it wasn’t her plan that had him mesmerized. Her large breasts, straining against the thin fabric of her thin sleep shirt, were simply too much for him to ignore.  Too much to handle. Too much to process, even. 

Isabella’s irritation grew and it became harder to conceal. It was amusing at first but come on now! Boys were always the same, unable to see past a pair of boobs. She could feel his tiny heart pounding against her fingertip, but now she wondered if it was over fear or excitement about the plan or the sheer, overwhelming size of her breasts.

"Of course," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. "Boys are always the same, aren’t they? Even in a situation like this…can’t see past something as simple as cleavage.” She straightened up slightly, adjusting her grip on Michael and angling him up toward her face to draw his attention back to her eyes. 

"Focus, Michael. This is important." Isabella squeezed–much more gently this time, breaking the powerful spell her breasts had cast upon him and pulled his concentration onto the huge chocolate brown eyes staring down at him. He snapped out of his trance, blinking rapidly. Isabella could see the embarrassment and confusion on his tiny face.

“Vicky took you. Vicky thought it would be cute to keep you in her socks. Vicky told her friends she was going to do naughty things to you when she got home from school.  Vicky said she would let her friends borrow you.”

Silence.

“Okay?”

Isabella waited for Michael to resist and beg but he nodded quietly.  She couldn’t determine if she’d changed his mind or if he was agreeing because he felt like he had to.  There was virtually no difference in Isabella’s mind.

“Repeat it back to me.” Isabella commanded. 

“Victoria took me, and she thought it would be nice to keep me in her–”

“Cute!” Isabella corrected sharply. Her emphasis on the words was heightened by her hand gestures.  “I said CUTE!  Vicky wouldn’t say ‘nice’, she would say ‘cute’!”. 

Michael swallowed hard and restarted, “Victoria took me, and she thought it would be cute to keep me in her suh…suh….

“Socks…” Isabella’s free hand was anchored on her slender waist and her fingers drummed impatient against her hip bone.

 “...socks!” Michael echoed back.

“...and??” Isabella asked.

“...and she told her friends she was planning on doing…naughty things with me when she got home from school.” Michael said, clearly embarrassed.

Isabella tapped her sock clad foot on the tile floor.  “......the last part…come on!”

“And she said she would let her friends borrow me.”

“Good.  Now say it all again.”

“Victoria took me, and she thought it would be cute to keep me in her socks and she told her friends she was going to do naughty things with me when she got home from school.” Michael said.  The words appeared more convincing and fluid, but he appeared even more embarrassed. “And she said she would let her friends borrow me.”

Isabella shot Michael a million-dollar smile.  “Okay, keep practicing your lines, partner. You’re going to have plenty of time to get them perfectly perfect.”

She knew the power of a pretty girl’s gaze could turn a boys’ legs to cooked spaghetti, and yet it was nothing compared to a kiss.  And if the cold of the washing machine lid had electrified Michael earlier, Isabella’s soft pouty lips against his skin were like bolts of lightning. 

MUAH!

“Thanks for your help; I couldn’t do this without you!  Okay, time to get into your hiding spot. God, this is going to be so good.”

With that, Isabella repositioned Michael over top of Victoria’s open sock and released her hold.  Despite the agreement, instinct to delay the inevitable overtook him. Michael managed to maintain a feeble grip on the teen’s fingers, his cute little feet dangling over top of the hungry, gaping cotton maw.  His resistance was cute in a way, but ultimately pointless. His grip inevitably loosened to nothing.  He plummeted down, his little hands pawing at the stretched lips of Victoria’s hungry sock but he fell too fast. Isabella felt the gentle tug as Michael’s body bounced into the toe section of the sock.  She could feel him wiggling inside like a miniature motorized toy in a christmas stocking; his movements caused the sock to shift slightly in her hand. It was almost endearing how much he still tried to resist, despite knowing it was futile.She peered down into the sock and locked eyes with a panicking Michael.  Michael was curled up at the toe section, sprawled as if he were lounging on a threadbare 360-degree hammock. His eyes were filled with a mixture of defeat and lingering fear.

“There you go,” she said, her voice soft but authoritative. “Nice and snug.” Despite the fact that he was basically a toy that lived in her mother’s butt, Isabella found herself marveling at how adorable he looked down there, curled up in the toe section. 

She had leaned in a bit too close and gagged as the sour vinegar aroma attacked her senses.  She flinched, allowing some more distance between her nose and the sock, but still kept an eye fixed on Michael. “I’m gonna put you in her backpack now.  We’re getting up for school in about 5 hours.   Keep practicing your lines.  And don’t worry…she’s so bad with school I doubt she’ll even unzip her backpack today so you’ll be safe.  I’ll start my part of the plan as soon as we get home, okay?  We’re in this together! Just remember…if we pull this off, she’ll think long and hard before messing with us again! Be strong!”

“ISABELLA, PLEEEEEASE!”

The vengeful teenager pinched the mouth of Victoria’s sock shut, muffling Michael’s annoying begging.  She swiftly grabbed Victoria’s other ankle sock and aligned the two socks together, one upside down relative to the other.  She then rolled them together and engulfed one of them in the mouth of the other. The end-product was a small,secure off-white sock roll that fit very nicely into Victoria’s backpack. Michael had been crying and screaming as she bound the two socks together, but once they were fully linked, she could only barely hear him.  And now, Isabella pressed her ear up against Victoria’s zipped up backpack and she could just barely hear his pleas for help.  

"Perfect," she whispered to herself, a devious grin spreading across her face as she admired her work. Just a simple backpack…nothing out of the ordinary going on there.

Isabella ran to the downstairs half-bathroom, eager to wash the smell of Victoria’s feet off her hands. Yuk! She then retreated to her clean bedroom and changed into a clean shirt before getting back into bed. 

‘The best part of this plan,’ Isabella thought as she tucked herself in under her covers, ‘is that it’ll still work even if Victoria finds him in her backpack.’

 Isabella would bet any money that if Victoria were to discover that Michael was in her custody, she would do and say all of the lines Michael was practicing at that very moment. She felt a rush of exhilaration. Everything was going according to plan. She could already picture the scene later that day when they "discovered" Michael in Victoria's backpack. The look of shock and betrayal on Vicky's face would be priceless.

As she teetered on the edge of slumber, Isabella thought of Michael. Even though this was strictly about revenge against Victoria, she couldn’t deny a certain thrill at the power she held over the little man. She wondered if he was scared, if the smell of the sock was overwhelming…but she had quite an easy time dismissing those fleeting concerns. “He’ll be fine,” she muttered to herself. After all, it was just a sock. It couldn’t be as bad as living between a set of butt cheeks.  And a pretty big set at that.  Would he be uncomfortable in Victoria’s dirty sock?  For a time, sure…but nothing more than that! And once he played his part in Isabella’s plan, everything would go back to normal.