“Whoaaaa! That’s a big one!”
A colorful, bunny-shaped girl bounces around, magenta eyes full of determination. On the screen, her player character dodges an ugly orc’s debut attack. The pink, pastel chat-log to her right lights up with comments:
“thats what she said lol B3”
“beverly-buns so good at video games !!!”
“ owo owo owo ????”
Bev scoffs, her character just barely parrying an incoming mace.
“Knock it offfff chat that’s lewd! So immature, hmph!”
The digital rabbit sticks out her tongue. Beverly had only been streaming for a few months, and she already had thousands of dumb, blushing fans! She did have lots of fun teasing them, though, so it’s not like she’s entirely innocent…
“Dumb horndogs like you don’t deserve to look at such a beautiful bunny! You should all be more grateful!”
On cue, her chat (and donation box) light up again.
“we adore you bunbun we re sorry !!!<3”
“bunnyl0ver14 gave 1000 bits! beveerly i love you please step on meee”
“lol none of these losers are real fans . Do not lewd the buny”
“prude lmao”
A big mace looms over Bev’s character. She’s so focused on chat… WHAM! Beverly sticks out her tongue as she dies, her digitally-rendered boobs wobbling at the slightest movement.
“Laaaaaaaame. Thanks for the bits bunnyl0ver! Fuckin’ perv!!!”
On the other side of the screen, the perv in question shivers like a leaf. Angie had been one of Bev’s most loyal subs since day one! Whenever she got paid—which wasn’t enough, anymore—she’d allocate ten-percent of her earnings to Bev. That came out as donations, obviously, but also merch, gifts, and… fan content.
Beverly’s model was meticulous designed. Her soft, desaturated color scheme was adorable! She had a big, striped hoodie covered in little plush stars and roses. Tucked under was a big, swishy skirt, and—underneath—two long, chubby legs wrapped in fuzzy thigh-high socks. Being a bunny, her legs ended in big, puffy rabbit feet. That’d be innocuous on a cartoon character, but Beverly was significantly more detailed. The end result was a little generic, yet hypnotic character model with a ravenously kinky fanbase, including lots of washed-up, foot-obsessed girlfailures like Angie.
Fuck. It just wasn’t fair! Angie would do anything for more of her favorite streamers attention! And she’d do anything twice to be under her big, goofy paws, treated like the deskpet she deserves to be.
As Beverly starts up another game, Angie switches tabs as discreetly as possible, as if her parasocial crush could stare back at her through the screen. She goes to a well-loved bookmarks tab and opens her favorite pieces. All of Beverly’s fans had to obsess over something—her perfect laugh, her perfect ass, her perfect tits—and for Angie, it was her feet. Her insides well up just thinking about them. Beautiful, clumsy rabbit paws were snuggled in tight-fitting socks alllllll day and night while Bev just games, or hangs out, or teases her fans.
Thankfully, Angie wasn’t alone. Basically every site with Beverly fans had footfreaks like her. She stumbles through her favorited captions, art, and stories, toying with herself the whole way over. She finally finds a beautiful pin-up of her beloved streamer, airing out her steamy soles. They were so detailed and soft and enchanting…
She immediately starts touching herself—sort of. Angie had a lot of trouble with her junk, and didn’t like making hand-to-cock contact at all, so she just grabbed a pillow from the ground and started rutting against it.
“Bevvvvv… pleaseeeeeeeee…”
She groans, her chubby thighs gripping the pillow like a vise. She feels so pathetic. So, so lowly. Bev had to know, right? That her fans were so depraved? A bunch of little freaks? She was always cracking lewd jokes and stuff, and her model was so hypnotically pretty…
“Fuckkkkk, Bev!!”
Within minutes, she squirts out a pathetic load all over her pillow. Her mind lost in the afterglow, she failed to recognize the bizarre pop-up ad on her screen. She also failed to notice the flickering light of her monitor, and the bizarre jolting sensation tingling up from her mouse all the way down her body.
Meanwhile, her computer stutters and lags, afflicted with bizarre, colorful malware. Lights flash hypnotically on screen, and Angie—stupidly—watches them all, falling only deeper in a footdrunk stupor. From her head to her toes, Angie feels… hot? Like her body could melt into a puddle then and there. She feels malleable.
The computer starts to smoke. Electric sensations prickle along Angie’s entire body, drawing her ever closer to the screen. The tab switches to Beverly, again. It shows her beautiful model awestruck at a cutscene. Angie stares, and stares, and stares deep enough to burn her eyes. She needs. Beverly.
The computer jolts to life one last time, shaking and sparking, ready to explode into a million pieces! Angie, deep enough to stay put, but lucid enough to panic, locks eyes with Beverly. And electricity jolts through her entire body, shocking Angie—her very soul—to the core.
The computer shuts off. An empty chair swivels in front of it.
---
Angie doesn’t wake up, per se, but—somehow—is able to think again. She can’t see a thing—just dull, soft walls enclosing her on all sides. Her edges feel crisp, like the tips of a flame, yet soft. Inhumanly soft. And when she notices that, she realizes that she isn’t shaped like a person at all? She feels… oblong. And alien. Covered in fluff, yet slightly damp. Segmented at the front end. Her rear extends infinitely outward. Whatever Angie had become, it was nothing like herself before.
It’s impossible to ignore how she smells. Angie reeked like vinegar and lint. It’s unmistakably BO, and if Angie could admit it to herself, a very specific kind. It’s so strong, in fact, Angie could’ve sworn she could taste it. It has a salty flavor.
“Chat. Should I open the obvious mimic chest. Chat. Answer me.”
She could still hear Beverly…? But she sounds so much closer! Like she’s really right there close to her! It makes Angie well up with warm, fuzzy feelings; but not enough to distract from her predicament. In fact, hearing Bev terrified her, since it confirmed all her suspicions: through some wild cosmic turn of events, Angie’s been metamorphosed into her idol’s stuffy, socked foot. She couldn’t even tell which one!
“Oughhh fuck! Chat, why’d you make me do that?!”
STOMP! Angie’s body gets stamped down into what feels like—but couldn’t possibly be—carpet. Her alien form squished between a sock and a soft place, Angie can’t help but shiver internally, unable to think of anything but how right it feels.
Fuckkkk Beverly! She thinks. Use me more! Pathetic as she was, she couldn’t even panic properly. Sure, some part of her mind knew this was a horrible situation. She didn’t have a particularly good life before, but at least she was a person? Her mind shudders at the thought of long, boring nights trapped in a sock, unable to do anything but sweat and be stepped on.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough for now. I’m tired, buns!”
Beverly yawns, stretching out her legs. She’d been gaming for hours, now, and her poor digital body needs a break!
“Thanks for tuning in, cuties! I’ll see you all next time, mwah~”
She blows a kiss at the screen seconds before it flickers off. She’d made plenty of cash from streaming, today, so she could finally relax! Most streamers would go offline for that… but Beverly, of course, isn’t most streamers.
“Those nerds… why are they so obsessed with me? I’m just one little bunny! An adorable bunny, sure, but I’m nothing special~”
She looks down at her socks. They look disgusting. Since she never showed her lower half onscreen, she never bothered to change her socks. They’re threadbare, covered in grease stains and soaked with sweat. And for whatever reason, they felt especially tight around her feet!
“Ugh… I didn’t go up another size, did I?”
She peels off her thigh-highs, wiggling her toes the second they’re free. Sure enough, they look a little bigger.
Angie, of course, is a dizzy mess. She couldn’t even see Beverly’s face! Her vision’s stuck to the ground, which she recognizes as… carpet? For real? How is that possible? She wonders, soundlessly. Beverly’s not a real bunny, right?
Angie catches a glimpse of her twin underneath her. Sure enough, it’s a big, fluffy bunny paw. It’s even stylized just like her model, with crisp, slightly pixelated edges. She wasn’t just a foot; she’s a drawing of a foot. A stylized, cartoon-y foot that reeks of multi-hour grind sessions and lore streams. She could even see steam—honest to god clouds of it—swirling around her twin. No doubt around herself, too.
“That’s so annoying!” Her owner groans. “I’d better reboot myself. Make sure everything’s as it should be for the world’s best virtual bunny~”
Angie’s subsumed in alien panic. Rebooting?! Bev had mentioned being an AI on her lore streams, but her foot—no, Angie—had no reason to believe she was serious. Not until now. Angie’s nonexistent heart soars with the implications; her favorite streamer wasn’t a character, but a real, living rabbit. All her jokes and quips and teasing suddenly felt all the more sincere, as real as the hot sweat dripping down Beverly’s—Angie’s—wrinkly, furry sole.
“Alriiiight let me just grab my model… gorgeous as ever! I’ve got the cutest face, I knew that. Tits are fine, tummy’s okay… yup! Here’s the problem!”
Bev circles her mouse around her paws. For some reason, a bunch of junk data got mixed up there. She probably just stepped in some malware. Nothing a reboot couldn’t fix.
“Well, I am tired… I could use a nap!”
She taps and types eagerly at her keyboard, kicking her legs to and fro. If Angie still had a heart, it’d be racing. Her idol was about to do some crazy sci-fi junk and all she could do was helplessly swing around, her nonexistent nose full of stuffy footstink. It makes her feel so weak. So lowly. Betraying her judgment, Angie’s insides—figurative insides—quiver and froth. Her mind is a soggy mess. Her thoughts, pathetic as they were, get interrupted by a rank stomp, then another, then another…
“It’s so fucked up that pretty bunny girls gotta work at all… why can’t I just nap and laze around all day?! I bet my nerds would wait on me hand and foot~”
You have... no idea! Angie thinks, barely clinging to her faculties. As Beverly flops into bed, her feet are left to air out at the opposite end, toes wiggling against Angie’s weak will. Within seconds, Bev is snoring. Angie shivers. She wishes she were at least kept under the blankets! She would get stinkier, but that was preferable to the cold.
As if to answer her prayers, Angie feels a deep, red heat building up inside of her. Her vision fixed, she can’t see the warm glow of Beverly’s body til it’s crept up to her. Her entire body feels on fire, her pixels sparking and crackling with life. Across the room, invisible to Angie, Bev’s computer lights up:
CHECKING SYSTEM INTEGRITY. PLEASE WAIT… 0%.
Angie’s mind starts to feel hazy. She knows she should be panicked, but just doesn’t have the energy to care. Could feet care about anything, really?
PLEASE WAIT… 10%.
Angie catches herself. Rebooting… wait. Am I… going to be okay? Before she can attempt to scream, Angie’s body—Beverly’s foot—is assaulted with more red-hot flickers, sparkling like firecrackers. Though she can’t see herself, she knows that she’s pretty… she’d been months getting off to Bev’s humid soles, and she’s finally as close as she can possibly be. Knowing that no matter what happens, she’d get to be close to her idol, calms Angie’s nerves. Or, Beverly’s nerves? Foot nerves…
PLEASE WAIT… 30%.
Angie would giggle if it could. Hehe… foot. Foot nerves. Beverly’s nerves. It—she, she feels fuzzy, all over, and it wasn’t just the reboot. She tries to think back to how she got in this situation. She remembers the flickering computer screen, she remembers Beverly, her goddess. That’s right! She needs to figure out how—
PLEASE WAIT… 50%.
The foot’s thoughts are interrupted by an orgasmic flash of heat, enough to make its sole bead with sweat. Bits of vinegary funk were getting caught in the foot’s pretty fur… what was it thinking of? What was she thinking of? The foot tries to remember… right! It was a person! A person named—
PLEASE WAIT… 70%.
The thoughts flutter into nothing. The foot is a foot. It’s nothing else! Why would a foot ever be something different? And it’s a pretty, pretty foot! A good foot that makes owner really comfy!
It gets the sense, though, that something is wrong. Feet need to be good, don’t they? But how could a foot be bad? The foot tries to think… wait a minute.
What—and why—was foot thinking?! Feet aren’t supposed to think at all! That’s owner’s job. Owner told it where to go, what to do, where to step…
PLEASE WAIT… 90%.
The foot panics. It doesn’t know why, but it gets the sense it’s forgetting something. Something important. But another flash of beautiful, heavenly warmth dulls its panic. Dulls… everything.
The foot’s digits wiggle. It feels… good. But it could never be conscious of that fact. It simply is, as a foot is meant to be.
PLEASE WAIT… 100%. REBOOT COMPLETE. LAUNCHING BEVBUNNY.EXE…
Where before there was Beverly and… some bizarre junk data—what even is an “Angie”?—there was now just Beverly. The fire on her model finally quells, and her feet—poor feet—feel so cold! The prickling chill is enough to wake Beverly up. She yawns, ample chest wobbling as she stretches…
“Aaaah… much better!”
She wiggles her toes. Sure enough, her feet look normal! Bev’s eyes start to water, though. They smell normal, too.
“Ough… I need to ask my manager to model a shower, or something. Would someone think of my poor, sweaty feet?!”
Her eyes widen. Wait… her fans loved this stuff! She could totally reel in some new footfreaks if she played her cards right. Bev clumsily paws for her phone, designed with her big, bappy bunny paws in-mind. She poses her feet perfectly, rubbing one’s rank, hot body on the other, and… snap!
The feet, of course, don’t do anything. They’re just feet. Sweaty, gorgeous feet that would make thousands of fans into slobbery, messy freaks, but feet nonetheless. At most, they may be content. But who really cares? In a few minutes, thousands of fans would be getting off to them. Fans that—for all they knew—would never really get to huff them.
Little did they know just how much they had in common.