GODDESS CHARLENE'S LUNCH BREAK
Goddess Charlene took her lunch break and went for a walk. The weather was cool and perfect for a woman who liked to wear a long, black leather coat and black leather fashion boots. She glanced down at her boots as she walked. She liked the satisfying clunk of the heavy heels. These boots were a comfortable cross between riding boots and fashion boots. Tall, gleaming shafts. Non-slip soles. She had already crushed a lot of men under those soles this morning.
She went to the food court in the shopping mall across the street and bought lunch, then sat at one of the tables. She noticed with some amusement, the terrified slaves that worked to keep the area clean. One of the cleaning slaves was trying to sweep near Charlene's table, but kept a cautious distance. "Don't be afraid of me, little man. You can clean here. I won't kill you".
The slave edged closer but was afraid. He couldn't help staring at the blonde Goddess in her black leather trenchcoat, with the belt untied, hanging down at her sides, and those beautiful boots, crossed. He could glimpse the tan leather of one of the soles. He was nervous but came close enough to whisper a question.
"Excuse me, Goddess, I'm sorry but I wanted to ask you a question�"
Charlene was amazed that the slave had the courage to speak. "What? Do you want me to step on you or something?"
The slave became embarrassed and panicked. "I�I�just wanted to know�."
"What?".
The slave was so terrified it fell on its knees, and stared at the floor most of the time, but stole a few glances at the black leather boots only a few feet in front of him.
"I wanted to know how many men were squashed under those boots today"
Charlene laughed. She tilted one of her boots to glance at the sole, and the non-slip tread. "I don't know. Maybe a few dozen". She picked at the sole with her finger, flicking a few dried flakes of dead pulp out of the tread. "There's still some crud . Look". She flicked the bits of dried pulp towards the slave, who winced and edged closer. Charlene rested that boot across her knee and faced the sole towards the slave, letting him see the tread closely.
"If you see any more stuck in there, lick it off," she commanded. The slave immediately shuffled towards the bootsole and began licking the tread eagerly. He cleaned the grooves of the tread so well, there was nothing inground at all, not even a pebble or speck of mud. Certainly no more pieces of crushed men.
When Charlene sensed the cleaning was finished, she looked at the sole again but said nothing. She merely switched boots, crossing the other one over her knee and faced that sole towards the slave. This sole had more stuck to it. A few discernible smears of red that had mostly tracked off from walking, and some ground-in globs of dried pulp, obviously that were once crushed bodies. There was also an imprint on the arch that said "Genuine Leather Soles and Uppers" which was mostly covered by a dark red and pink clump of goo. The clump looked like a flattened man. It had not been tracked off at all, since it was stuck to the arch.
"What do you see, slave? Something you like?" Charlene looked at the sole and the arch and smiled. "Ooh, that one died in my favorite place. Doesn't he look happy?" She ran her finger over the little clump, gently feeling it. "I like having a man there, all squished". She hovered the boot right in front of the slave's eager face, letting him see the crushed body even better. "He's stuck right where that stamp is�can you read it?"
The slave tried to read it, "Genuine�.." was all he could make out, though he knew what the rest said since he had seen the bottoms of many womens boots.
Charlene gently smeared the tiny crushed body across the arch, revealing more of the imprint and creating a streak of dark red goo. "Genuine Leather Soles and Uppers, it says. That's what my boots are made of. Understand?"
The slave nodded silently, staring at the stamp, most of which was still covered by glistening red jelly. Charlene licked the traces of goo from her fingertip. Then she shoved the arch of the boot across the helpless man's face, the heavy heel against his chin and the sole pressing against his forehead. The slave could see nothing except the arch, and the dead clump half-smeared across the imprint. "You want to be there, too, don't you?", she teased. The slave simply mumbled.
"You want to be stuck under my boot, just like that little man?" Charlene forcefully shoved the man down, using her boot to push his head towards the floor. Soon, the slave was wriggling on his back, with the arch of the boot still across his face. "Y..yes, Goddess!," it pleaded.
Goddess Charlene pressed the arch against the man's face, hoping the slave could feel some of the crushed goo. She loved grinding a man like that under her boot, right before she shrunk him. "You can't wait to be the next dead thing stuck to my boot. You're my little worshipper now. You're about to become a little squished man".
The slave wriggled and cried out in helplesslness. Charlene laughed. "Try and get away. Go and and try. I want to see you struggle".
The slave obeyed by squirming frantically and trying to crawl, but Charlene kept the pressure firm on the man's face. "You can't get away, little man. And I'm about to shrink you and squash you�" The man cried out but no one in the mall paid any attention. It was normal to see a powerful businesswoman like Charlene stepping on man at this time of day.
Another cleaning slave was dusting nearby and waited s few feet away from the scene. It did not want to interrupt. The slave watched the beautiful woman in the black leather coat, pressing her boot on the face of the crawling slave. Suddenly, the crawling man was shrunk to the size of an insect, just a pink spot on the floor, wriggling beneath the shadow of the woman's boot.
The cleaning slave couldn't help staring in fascination as he watched the woman slowly press the sole of her leather boot down, on top of the miniaturized man. He could hear the quiet crushing sound as the little body flattened and erupted into jelly. He watched the shiny leather boot twisting from side to side as the Goddess smeared the soft guts of the dead slave into the floor under her sole. Then, she raised the boot and rested it across her knee. Now the slave could see the wet splotch of pink and red goo splattered across the ridges of the sole's non-slip tread. The Goddess seemed to forget about the dead slave and went back to her lunch.
The cleaning slave shuffled over on its knees and was about to offer to clean the dead goo off of the boot sole but Goddess Charlene saw him approaching out of the corner of her eye and shrunk him. She looked down at the tiny man. "Another thing to crush?" The slave stared up at the impossibly tall black leather boot that stood on the floor. Its heel seemed one hundred feet high. The shaft went up forever.
He crawled across the tile floor, hoping to kiss the beautiful boot somehow. Charlene uncrossed the boot from over her knee and lowered it towards the floor. The slave looked up and saw the heel of that boot lowering, getting closer, getting larger.. He heard the booming voice from somewhere above, "Pray to the bottom of my heel, squishy little thing," the Goddess said as she rested the boot toe on the floor, with the heel raised slightly over the tiny man.
The slave stared at the smooth underside of the boot heel as it became the sky. His world became dark the flat heel pressed down, crushing hard. Charlene hardly had to apply any pressure at all to crush the tiny man's body. She crunched down quickly, then rested the heel flat on the floor, then scraped the dead guts sideways into a long red streak. The Goddess returned to her lunch, wondering if any more slaves would dare approach her. She crossed the boot back over her knee. Anyone passing by could see the remains of three little men stuck to the bottom of that boot, one on the sole, one on the heel and one on the arch.
Charlene wondered if any more slaves would dare approach her�