GINA'S NITE OUT: Part Twelve
They knelt and prayed to the massive form of Gina the great Goddess who towered above and smiled down with devilish red lips. These men, at least two hundred naked, little men, called out the name of Gina and begged for her to squash them as she had squashed so many men so far that night. The slaves were crowded together between Gina�s legs as she sat cross-legged, one heavy cowboy boot resting on top of the other. Before them was the fly of Gina�s tight jeans. The men looked up at the gold snap that was above the fly...the word LEE was etched into the gold metal. There was no place for the men to run, the space between Gina�s folded legs was so small.
�I bet you little boys would like to get inside here...� she teased as she fingered the denim of the flap of her fly. �Go on. Climb up to the zipper�.
The slaves eagerly started crawling over each other, trying to squirm themselves under the flap. A few dozen made it under the flap and rubbed themselves into the metal zipper. Gina liked the feeling of little bodies against the zipper. �Ooh, that�s as close as you slaves will ever get to seeing my clit�. She reached down to the zipperhead and gently pulled it downward. The men worshipping the zipper tried to cling, but they were squished as Gina smeared them with the head of the gold zipper as she brought it down. Their soft guts seeped into the denim around the zipper�s metal teeth.
Soon, she had unzipped all the way and the swarm of slaves below went crazy. They stared with desire and fear into the great darkness within the open fly of Gina�s tight jeans. Just for fun, the Goddess reached down and plucked out a man then pressed his wriggling body into the small head of the zipper. She made him worship the zipperhead, and tried to squeeze him through the miniscule hole in the flat piece of metal. She felt the body crush under her finger, since it wouldn�t quite fit through the hole, and instead became splattered on the zipperhead, an insignificant trace of wetness on the gold metal.
�Anyone want to see my panties?�, she giggled, then scopped up a handful of the begging slaves and slipped them into the open fly. She moaned as the dozens of soft, male bodies pressed against her silk panties, right above her already throbbing clit! Gina quickly closed her zipper and pressed her palm lightly against the fly. She was pressing the trapped bodies and crushing some of them. Her panties became wet from the slave-goo and also from her growing desire.
Inside the Goddess� tight jeans, the tiny men screamed muffled screams as they were being crushed between denim and silk, overpowered by the strong smell of Gina�s passion. Their guts splurted and were absorbed by both materials. Above all, the sound of Gina�s moaning became louder and louder.
The slaves on the floor prayed harder as they watched the Goddess� hand pressing into the crotch of her jeans. They wanted to join the crushing mess inside and tried to scramble towards the fly again. They could hear the gentle sound of moist goo being created!
Meanwhile, Cheryl stomped out of her bedroom. She had been waiting for a slave to return with a boxful of specially trained slaves and now grew impatient. She was wearing her favorite chocolate brown leather skirt, the one with the front slash pockets with the gold rivets and her new brown leather fashion riding boots. When she entered the living room, she saw the overturned boot-box and a lot of red streaks on the floor nearby. She couldn�t help noticing Gina sitting with an ecstatic look on her face, pressing her crotch with a nice collection of pink, fleshy things between her legs.
�Oh, hi Gina. You wouldn�t know anything about that box, would you?�
�Oh, Cheryl. There�s still some left...� Gina nodded towards the mass of flesh below. �I couldn�t help myself�.
Cheryl was angry and stomped right in front of Gina. Her riding boots glistened in the light, their highly polished shafts a brilliant sight to behold. There were straps around the front with gold buckles. �Nice boots,� commented Gina.
�Those slaves were specially trained for these boots. What the fuck, Gina?�
Gina was finished smearing the crushed slave-goo into her panties and breathed for a second. �I don�t care. They�re just things to crush. They�re not worth anything�. To prove her point, Gina pressed an open palm down into the mass of worshipping slaves, slowly squeezing their soft bodies into liquid pulp. She mushed the pulp around with her palm for a few seconds, then lifted it up to admire the print she had made.
Cheryl fumed and stepped her riding boot right between Gina�s legs, stomping down into the remainder of the trapped slaves. The poor slaves were just recovering from the giant palm, and scurrying to fill the space left by the crushing, when all of a sudden, a giant sole appeared from out of nowhere! They looked to see the treaded non-skid sole and in a flash, they were being pressed flat beneath that tread. They squirmed and wriggled, but they were all crushed into the fine ridges of the tread, their soft guts filling the narrow gullets.
Gina was laughing and uncrossed her legs. �I guess that�s all of them now, Cheryl�. The enraged Cheryl slid her riding boot back, making a wide red smear-mark on the floor. �Fucking riding boot slaves. Gina, you better get me some more�.
�Cheryl, you worry too much. I can get slaves whenever I want�. Gina still had a good supply of men trapped in her leather jacket pocket, but she was keeping them for later, so she took a look around the party for another source.
Ah! Hanging from a chair in the dining room was a very elegant red leather coat, with deep slash pockets. Gina led Cheryl over to the coat. �I�ll bet you there�s a lot in here!�
Deep down inside one of the pockets, a tiny man was indeed trapped...
Hours ago, he had been waiting at the bustop when a gorgeous woman walked up to him wearing a soft, red leather trenchcoat and matching red leather high-heel boots. He figured he was about to die, so he offered his body to be crushed. The woman had simply smiled and commanded him to kneel, then sniff the lip of one of her coat�s pockets. He could tell it was a deep pocket, and desperately wanted to explore inside. For a few minutes, she let him worship the pocket, then she shrunk him.
The suddenly tiny man scurried on the ground near the pointy toe of one of the Goddess� red leather boots. He fell to his stomach and wriggled, waiting for the boot�s sole to crush him flat like a cigarette butt, but the giant woman merely knelt down to observe him closely. Her long, red leather coat draped down on either sides of her boots, spilling onto the ground. The tiny man looked up and saw pure heaven in red leather. �If you want to live inside my coat pocket,� she said, �you have to promise me that you�ll live inside the label inside the pocket. There�s a tiny label in there and I want a man stuck inside it�. He didn�t exactly understand but promised to obey, of course.
The Goddess lifted him up and held him over the great slash pocket. The slave looked down and saw the depths of the pocket. As a matter of fact, he could see a small white label, sticking out of the seam of the lining. She lowered him into the pocket, then towards the label. It was a white loop of smooth fabric, probably silk, with the letter L printed on both sides. She carefully slipped his wriggling body inside the loop and let him go. �Now you stay in there, and make love to that label. I�m going to party and when I look down I want to see that label jiggling from your trapped body�.
And so the Goddess went to the party, but when she was hot, had slipped her coat off and left it over the dining room chair...
The little slave was masterbating furiously. His whole world was now the inside of this label. He didn�t know that Gina and Cheryl were looking down.
Gina didn�t see any slaves at the bottom of the pocket and almost went away, until she noticed the label moving. �Hmmm. What do we have here?� She pinched the little label gently between two fingers and felt a tiny bulge inside the loop.
The slave jerked off as best he could inside the label as the pressure from both sides increased. He was being slowly squeezed and didn�t know why! He guessed that his Goddess had finally returned and had decided to crush him.
�It thinks it can hide inside that label,� laughed Gina, who then poked the little pink body out with one fingertip. The slave stared upward from Gina�s fingertip along the long, black leather sleeve of the Goddess� jacket, up to her beautiful face above the pocket�s opening. It prayed for its Mistress to return, but the slave knew that this new Goddess would probably kill him right away. �Please, Goddess, I was supposed to stay inside that label...�
But Gina couldn�t hear the little worthless thing. She simply pulled it out of the pocket and held its wriggling body up to her eye. �You like the inside of pockets? Try mine�. Gina spread open one of her leather jacket�s slash pockets, the one full of already captured slaves, and let the tiny man see inside. �I don�t have a little label in here, sorry�.
Meanwhile, Cheryl was looking inside the red coat�s other pocket and was happy to have discovered a nice collection of tiny men. She decided not to tell Gina, and quietly slipped her hand down into the deep pocket, running her fingers through the squirming pink mass of male flesh. She smiled down at the trapped slaves, as she felt their miniscule bodies crawling all over her fingers.
Gina suddenly remembered that were labels on the insides of her cowboy boots. She knelt down on one knee and bent back the top of one boot. There was a white label with the words Tony Lama, stitched into the inside of the shaft, about one inch below the pull-tab. She slipped the helpless slave inside the boot, down towards the label. �You like labels, worship this one�. Gina lightly pressed the tiny body with her finger into the label. The slave squirmed frantically, licking, kissing and rubbing itself into the giant piece of fabric. The smell of leather from the inside of the bootshaft was incredibely strong. �You fucking worm. Think about how worthless you are. First you were worshipping the inside of the label inside the pocket of a woman�s leather coat. Now you�re worshipping the label inside my cowboy boot. The difference is, this time, you get smushed into my label�.
The slave prayed to the giant label, knowing full well that no one would ever see him crush. To the outside world, Gina would look like she was just kneeling down, feeling inside her boot. Who would know that a man was being crushed to death against this label? He jerked off furiously, knowing he would be smeared in secret. No one would even see the smear marks left on the label, unless Gina showed them.
Gina liked the fact that the slave was going to die in such a hidden place, within her leather boot! She pressed the soft body a little harder, and felt it give way, flatten and smush. There was very small sound that only she heard as the body�s guts spread out and oozed under her fingertip. She delicately smeared the soft goo into the label, working it in.
Cheryl was still playing with the men in the coat pocket when Gina stood back up. Cheryl was giggling quietly at the feeling of the trapped bodies. They were all staring up at the front panel of her brown leather skirt.
Gina ran her hand alongside Cheryl�s arm, as if she were going to slip her hand into the pocket too, alongside Cheryl�s, but instead, reached along the outside of the deep pocket. Gina smiled as she pressed the soft red leather, feeling the squirming bulge of the trapped bodies and Chery�s hand. Gina suddenly pressed firmly, causing the little bodies to squeeze and crush all around Cheryl�s hand and through her fingers. Cheryl moaned with passion at the sudden feeling of all those men turning to mush in her fingers, pressed by the lining of the pocket into her hand. �Oh, Gina...that feels so good!� Gina lovingly kept pressing the outside of the pocket, feeling Cheryl�s hand through the leather.
Inside the pocket, the men had all turned to soft paste. Cheryl finally withdrew her wet hand and licked the soft paste from her fingers. �Mmmm,� she moaned.
Gina peered into the coat�s deep pocket and saw that there were a few globs still wriggling, stuck along different spots of the pocket�s lining. She picked through the mush and found three still-alive slaves and held them in her palm so both women could see them.
�Look, Cheryl. Three little worshippers. How should they die?�
Cheryl ran her tongue along her lips, staring closely at the twitching bodies in Gina�s palm. �This is your lucky day, little boy,� she whispered as she picked up one with her fingers, �you can be the first man inside this tight pocket�. Cheryl slipped the tiny, wriggling body into the right-hand front pocket of her incredibly tight brown leather skirt. She poked its helpless body down as far as she could, until she felt it trapped at the very bottom of the inside of the pocket.
Gina laughed at the small bulge that was barely noticeable when she looked at Cheryl�s skirt pocket. �It looks like these slaves were all destined to worship pockets. That�s a really nice skirt, Cheryl. It looks so soft�.
Cheryl smiled and ran her hand delicately over the buttersoft lambskin, feeling the miniscule bulge in her front pocket. �I just bought this skirt today. The pockets are so tight. I couldn�t wait to have a man trapped in one�.
Gina looked at the remaining two slaves in her palm and picked out one of them. �What pocket am I going to put you in..?� The little thing squirmed between Gina�s two pinching fingertips as it was lifted from her palm. It couldn�t wait to find out which pocket it would be slipped into. Would it be one of Gina�s leather jacket pockets or one of her tight jeans� pockets?
Gina slid her hand with the slave around her hip, brushing the soft leather of her three-quarter length jacket to the side, reaching back to the right-hand back pocket of her Lee jeans. The tiny man was in pure heaven, surrounded in complete darkness as the leather jacket draped around Gina�s hand, the back pocket before him. He wanted to kiss and rub into the denim, but Gina was quickly reaching him toward the lip of the pocket. He couldn�t see it in the darkness, but he could smell the leather of the giant Lee patch above the pocket right before he was slipped inside. �You can live in here, and don�t squirm too much, or I�ll crush you in my pocket�.
The little man wriggled in pure ecstacy as Gina�s fingers slipped him down deep into the back pocket. The jeans were so tight that the denim was pressing roughly on either side of him. When she let him go, he was at the very bottom, where the v-shaped seams of the pocket met, completely pressed by the beautiful denim.
Meanwhile, the slave in Cheryl�s skirt pocket was also in pure heaven. The inside of the pocket wasn�t lined...it was all leather! He rubbed himself as the pressure from the deep, rich chocolate brown leather squeezed from all sides.
Gina examined the last slave in her palm. Cheryl tried to snag it, but Gina quickly closed her hand and pulled it away. �Why don�t we let IT decide where it wants to go?�
�Yeah, right, Gina. Of course, he�s going to want to go inside my skirt pocket. This is all leather inside...� Cheryl slipped a few fingers into the skirt�s left-hand pocket, feeling the smooth, buttery lambskin. �I bet that jacket�s not�.
Gina held the tiny, squirming pink body up to the light so both women could see it clearly. �Tell us, little slave, what kind of pocket do you like? You can go in Cheryl�s leather skirt, my leather jacket or my Lee jeans? She only has those two front pockets, but I have two jacket pockets AND these are five-pocket jeans,� she fingered the tiny coin-pocket of her jeans. �So many pockets to choose from, and whichever pocket you choose, is the pocket you get squished inside�.
The tiny slave was confused. It had spent a long time inside the deep pocket of a red leather coat with dozens of other slaves. It had learned to love the smell of soft leather. But somehow, the look of Gina�s tight jeans was too appealing. Suddenly, he could think of nothing else except being trapped and crushed inside one of those five-pockets.
Gina tested the slave by holding it first over one of the slash pockets of her black leather jacket. The slave started jerking off immediately. �Hmmm, maybe it worships my jacket�. The tiny man could barely see a large collection of trapped men deep within the dark folds of the pocket, constantly squirming.
�Show him my skirt,� smiled Cheryl. Gina held the slave over one of the brown leather skirt�s front pockets. The gold rivets were beautiful, and the slave jerked off even more. The smell of the lambskin was overpowering.
�Now look at my jeans,� said Gina as she then held the slave over one of her front pockets (the one with the coin pocket). This time the slave masterbated furiously. He was entranced by the giant Lee rivet right next to him, the one at one corner of the coin pocket. �I think he likes my jeans best,� laughed Gina.
She held him in front of the other front pocket, then each of her back pockets. She lifted up the back of leather jacket enough so she could observe the slave�s reaction when he was in front of her back pockets. When he was held in front of the right-hand back pocket (where the other slave was trapped), he started cumming at last. �Oh, I guess he�s going in here with the other one�.
Cheryl was pissed and gently squeezed the little bulge in her skirt pocket, getting off on the tiny, wet sound of slave-guts seeping into rich leather. She slid one finger into the small pocket to feel the moistness.
Gina slid her little man into her back pocket, in with the other one. She now had two men trapped in her back pocket and it definitely turned her on.
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