Giantess Stories: HEATHER

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By Bootslave

She closed the front door behind her and walked down the block towards the

corner. It was a cool, autumn night and a perfect time to find men wandering

about, aimlessly looking for women to serve. In her black leather motorcycle

jacket, tight black leather skirt and black leather zippered go-go boots,

Heather looked like a biker-chick with one thing on her mind: Crushing men!

She immediately ran into a group of four young men waiting at the bus stop, and

commanded them to fall to their knees. The eager slaves obeyed (of course) and

even volunteered to lick the soles of her go-go boots. Goddess Heather laughed

and merely kicked one of the slaves between the legs hard, making him squirm in

pain on the ground. "Fuck you, bug. You get to die first".

She shrunk the man and smiled at his suddenly miniscule body, a pink speck that

crawled in one crack of the sidewalk. Goddess Heather dug the toe of her leather

boot into the crack, smushing the little soft thing easily. She ran the round

leather-covered toe back and forth, smearing the tiny glob into bits of paste.

"The rest of you start screaming. I want to hear you scream even when you're


Heather sometimes liked to hear her victims scream, but when they were tiny it

was so hard to hear their worthless voices. So she figured they could start

before they were shrunk.

The men begged and shouted for death, and Goddess Heather planted one of her

boot-soles firmly on one of the worm's chests. "You, louder. I want you to

scream how much you worship my boot". The slave obeyed, screaming its prayers as

loud as it could. Heather rewarded the stupid slave by pressing the sole onto

its face next, letting him see the worn leather closely. "Do you like my sole?",

she teased.

"Yes! Yes!", the bug shouted, attracting the attention of some women across the

street. As she kept pressing her sole down, Heather unzipped one of her leather

jacket's pockets and slipped her hand inside. She ran her fingers through the

pocketful of tiny, trapped men and decided to have fun with them too.

She looked down at the sole-worshipping slave. "You're nothing compared to my

leather boot. You're just a piece of dirt". Goddess Heather slipped a handful of

wriggling male bodies out of her jacket pocket and held them all so the

worshipper could see them. "See? Here's more squishy bodies..." Heather slowly

pressed the palmful of little men against the smooth, black leather shaft of the

boot she was using to step on the man's face. She pressed the collection of

squirming bodies firmly into the smooth leather, feeling their guts splurt out

and form liquid paste. The poor man could see every detail of the red and pink

goo oozing from between Heather's fingers as it was smeared into the grain of

the leather. The Goddess especially loved rubbing the crushed slave-pulp up and

down the boot's zipper.

"I think they liked getting squashed into the zipper," she said as smeared the

pulp quietly. The man under her sole screamed louder than ever. The other two

slaves crawled on their knees and offered to die next. The two women across the

street laughed as they watched from the distance.

Heather shrunk the two men to the side of her. She knelt down and lowered her

hand to the ground, commanding the little men to get on her palm, all the while

still stepping hard on her sole-worshipper. Once the little things were in her

palm, Heather placed both men on top of her boot-toe, the same toe that was

pressing hard into the forehead of her begging slave.

From beneath the Goddess' boot, the praying worm could see nothing but the dirty

sole. Then Heather slid the sole back so that the middle of the sole was on top

of the worm's trembling lips and he could see the front of the toe. He saw the

two tiny slaves crawling on top of the toe.

"See your two little friends?...Go on and eat them off of my boot-toe". He

squirmed and begged, afraid to obey the young Goddess. Heather slid the toe back

until it was over the man's helpless mouth, then pressed the toe between his

lips."I guess you'll have to suck them off my toe". She shoved the round toe of

her go-go boot into his mouth. The little men managed to scurry upwards enough

to escape being sucked, but Heather kept forcing the toe in deeper. The man's

mouth was stretched wide-open as it accepted the boot-toe.

Heather just laughed then spit on her toe. The Goddess' saliva splattered half

on the swallowing slave's face and half on the leather toe. Both of the tiny men

were covered in the spit and wriggled like trapped insects. "Now you can eat

them off my toe and swallow my spit, too".

The man moaned and begged, but could barely make a sound with the toe so far

deep into his mouth. Heather spit on his face again and laughed, then pinched

one of the saliva-covered men off of her boot and held it held it right next to

the man's eye. "Look at its guts," she said as she pinched the tiny, wet thing

between her two fingers. He saw every detail of the little man's body getting

compressed into pink goo, its guts oozing like red jelly amidst the drops of

saliva, soaking the tips of the Goddess' fingers.

Heather wiped her wet fingers on the hip of her leather skirt and started to

spit again, this time letting her saliva hang. She laughed as she let the spit

very slowly drip from her mouth towards the helpless men. The full-size man

watched as the saliva descended towards the leather toe. The tiny man who was

still stuck in the last bit of spit looked up and saw the big glob coming down.

Suddenly, he was completely engulfed!

Heather kept laughing as she used the sleeve of her leather jacket to wipe the

disgusting glob of spit off of her boot-toe, crushing the trapped man in the

process, mixing its useless guts with her own spit. Then she pulled her boot-toe

out of the worm's mouth and saw how wet it was.

She looked again at the cuff of her jacket sleeve. There was bits of goo and

spit mushed together, caught in the silver zipper. Heather liked the zippers on

her jacket's cuffs and wanted to keep them clean, so she took some time to smear

whatever mush was left off on the hip of her leather skirt.

The poor slave begged as he lay there on the ground, ready to be shrunk and die

next. Heather simply smiled and stomped her boot back on his worthless face. The

slave wriggled, praying to the dirty sole of the go-go boot. It also heard the

clunking of boot-heels from across the street, getting louder!

The two women from across the street came over to see what Heather was doing.

The first one had long, brown frizzy hair, wore a long flowery skirt and

chocolate brown leather fashion boots, with medium heels and gold buckles. The

other woman had curly black hair which spilled onto the shoulders of her

short-cropped black leather jacket. She also wore tight jeans, tucked into a

pair of black leather Frye motorcycle-style boots (with the round gold buckles).

The first woman's name was Marla, the second was Andrea.

The slave was praying to the go-go bootsole when Marla's brown leather fashion

boot stomped right next to his ear. He twisted his head enough to see the

wedge-like heel of the boot, the shiny chocolate leather, and the gold buckle.

He wanted to look up and see the rest of the shaft, but Heather's sole was

keeping his head pinned down hard.

"Well, you're a lucky little slave," Heather said, "it looks like you've got

more boots to worship".

The man was anxious to lick the brown boot, but it was a few inches too far from

his tongue. Marla laughed at the helpless slave and slid her boot on its heel a

little closer (but not close enough). "I'll bet he never dreamed he'd be praying

to two pairs of boots. This must be heaven to the little bug". Andrea just stood

back and smiled at the scene.

Heather twisted the sole of her go-go boot firmly into the side of the trapped

slave's head, making him moan as he stared at Marla's brown boot. "You wanna see this..." Heather scooped another handful of men out of her

leather jacket pocket and showed them to Marla, then bent down to drop the

dozens of screaming bodies onto the ground, right next to Marla's boot, inches

away from the worshipping slave's head.

Marla took the hint and raised her boot slowly over the squirming mass of tiny

men. The throng of slaves looked up at the treaded sole of the fashion boot and

prayed. They saw countless bits of inground filth, crushed bodies and

splatter-marks all over the sole. This Goddess must have just come from a large

squashing party! They wriggled and prayed in the shadow beneath the ridges of

the tread.

The slave under Heather's go-go boot watched with excitement as the little pink

bodies wriggled on the ground beneath the sole of the beautiful fashion boot.

"Let me under there! I want to join them!," the slave dared scream.

Heather punished the worm for its outburst by stomping on its head harder. "Fuck

you!" She grabbed another handful out of her jacket pocket and popped them all

into her mouth. Heather pressed her cupped hand against her lips, shoving the

three dozen or so male bodies into her mouth. She started crunching them into

paste between her teeth, then opened her mouth to show the other women the goo

all over her tongue. She bent down to let the impudent slave see her open mouth

full of half-dead bodies. There were some still alive, but most of them were

mushed together. Heather chewed with her mouth open, letting him see the dead

slave-goo forming. She laughed and pressed her go-go boot harder again. "Keep

looking at her boot! See what she does to those fucking bugs!"

The slave turned his head back to see Marla slowly lowering her sole until she

felt the tiny men wriggling underneath. "They're all so soft...", Marla mused as

she gently rested her sole on the bodies. Tiny arms and legs twitched beneath

the treaded sole. There was some quiet crunching as some of the bodies started


Heather pressed her go-go boot so hard on the side of the slave's face that the

worm shouted in pain. She knelt over the trapped man and pointed with one finger

to the slowly crushing mass of male bodies under Marla's sole. "See how they're

all getting crushed? Look at these ones..." Heather poked her fingertip into the

wriggling pink flesh, giggling at the tiny limbs and oozing pulp. Marla moaned

with pleasure at the sensation of all those men mushing together, and started

pressing one hand between her legs with passion.

The poor slave was watching all those tiny men getting flattened up close. It

was unbearable and he screamed out to be squahsed too. Marla yelped with desire

as she lowered her bootsole flat onto the ground, smashing the squirming mound

of bodies into a puddle of lumpy goo. The red and pink ooze spread out onto the

ground. Heather lovingly ran her fingertips through some of the wet clumps.

Marla, in her passion, finally fell to her knees and touched herself under her

long skirt with one hand. When she did, she slid her sole back, leaving a gooey

red streak of smashed guts. Heather quickly ran around behind Marla and knelt

down to look at the pulp-covered sole of the woman's boot. "Look at all those

little dead people!" Heather couldn't control herself and leaned towards the

bootsole, licking the newly squashed bodies.

The full-size slave had been forgotten about. As soon as Heather had stepped off

of him, he was now free to move. He knew he couldn't run away; the Goddess'

would simply shrink him as soon as he tried.

Heather moaned as she ate the squished slave-goo off of Marla's bootsole. Marla,

in turn, moaned as she masterbated, occasionally looking down at the confused

slave with disinterest.

He decided to get up on his knees and politely ask to be squashed, but before he

could even move, Andrea stomped over in her Frye boots and planted HER tan

leather sole flatly on his face. "You look like you've overstayed your welcome,

little bug. Time to die..." and with that she shrunk the man.

He squirmed on the ground, staring up at the smooth leather of the Frye bootsole.

He saw a well-worn toe-tap with the studs almost unrecognizable. He prayed that

the Goddess Andrea would get a chance to get new taps soon, but he was glad to

be getting squished by the worn one now. It rested on top of him, the rusted and

flattened piece of metal, and he screamed a tiny nothing before his guts

splooshed out and his body turned to liquid paste.

Giantess Stories: HEATHER

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