After what seems like an eternity, Sangram pulls his foot out and leaves me dazed in the crumpled sock. I am splayed out on my back and covered in foot sweat, seeping into the dampness of the surrounding material. The roof of the sock has collapsed on my face, and I let out a sigh of relief with my mouth pressed against the musky cotton. Tiny holes in the fabric allow me to squint and peer through the sock: my eyes widen as I glimpse a skyscraper of a man looming above, so tall that my vision blurs at his enormous ballsack. Above that threshold, a formidable structure juts into outer space; I shake as I truly realize my smallness, my utter insignificance in comparison to him.
I adjust to my knees and crawl about for a few minutes before I reach the socks exit, plopping myself on the carpet outside. My chin grazes the floor as I imagine what he has in mind. It dawns on me that I have only seen the lower body of the muscle god thus far - there is a vast expanse of manly terrain that I have yet to behold. I quiver at the thought of being held by his fingers with his arm outstretched, my eyes peering downwards upon the world of Sangram. A world in which my only purpose is to provide worship, to express gratitude for the fantasy life I now live.
I adjust to my knees and crawl about for a few minutes before I reach the socks exit, plopping myself on the carpet outside. My chin grazes the floor as I imagine what he has in mind. It dawns on me that I have only seen the lower body of the muscle god thus far - there is a vast expanse of manly terrain that I have yet to behold. I quiver at the thought of being held by his fingers with his arm outstretched, my eyes peering downwards upon the world of Sangram. A world in which my only purpose is to provide worship, to express gratitude for the fantasy life I now live.