GINA'S NITE OUT: Part Five
There was plenty of heavy dance music pouring into the night air as Gina pulled up to Cheryl’s house. The beautiful Goddess stepped out of her car and noticed that there were men waiting on the pavement, probably meant to be servants of some kind. The poor wretches couldn’t take their eyes off of the shiny black leather of Gina’s heavy cowboy boots and the smooth, buttersoft leather of her three-quarter length jacket. All three of the slaves knelt before the approaching Goddess and trembled as the heavy clunking of those sharp heels grew louder.
One of them stammered, “Welcome to Goddess Cheryl’s Birthday Party, Mistress...”
Gina laughed at the worthless worms and slipped her hand into one of her jacket pockets, feeling with her fingers, the fifty of so tiny bodies that she had captured earlier, helpless men that were living within and worshipping the inside of her pocket! She ran her fingers through the mound of squirming flesh as she eyed the three kneeling slaves.
“I am Goddess Gina, and what are you?” she asked the slaves with amusement. She also teased them by resting one of her cowboy boots on its sharp heel, rocking it from side to side slightly, giving the worms a glimpse of the boot-sole.
One of the slaves understood Gina’s tease and crawled on his belly towards the rocking boot. It grovelled and begged with its tongue at the pointy toe and the rich black leather of her western boot.
“Good little man. But you still didn’t tell me what you are”.
“A boot-licker, Goddess...”, and with that, the slave started licking under the leather-covered toe of her Tony Lama boot, tasting the slightly worn leather and also kissing the sharp point of the toe. It became excited by the shiny silver rand that decorated the tip of the toe.
“You’re not worth anything. You’re less than a piece of filth. Fuck licking my boots. You smear under them. Ask me, slave. Ask me to squish you...”
The man squirmed as it worshipped Gina’s boot-toe, feeling itself and moaning “Squish me”. Gina shrunk the man and loved seeing its suddenly ant-sized body twitching in front of her pointy toe. She was still running her fingers through the captured men in her jacket’s pocket, and couldn’t help catching one between two fingertips, accidentally squeezing its soft body into liquid paste. She quickly withdrew her hand out of her pocket and looked at the red wetness on her fingertips, then back down at the tiny slave on the ground.
“Scream ‘squish me’ little man, loud so I can hear you,” Gina said as she rested her boot-toe on top of the miniscule slave. She loved the way it felt, having a tiny, wriggling thing that she could feel through the leather sole of your boot. A soft, gentle press and its life would be over, like all the other praying, worthless bits of slave-filth.
“You two,” she commanded the other servants, “get all the way on the ground, on either side of my boot, and watch your friend get crushed”.
Of course, the slaves obeyed, lying on either side of Gina’s black leather cowboy boot, staring with fascination at the way the tip of the boot’s toe was resting ever-so-lightly on the tiny man’s body. “It’s so easy to squish you slaves. I’ve got to really concentrate to do this....or else, I make paste,” and with that (on the word PASTE) she lowered her toe just enough to press the soft body into a glob of pink mush.
Gina laughed as she swirled the very tip of her toe into the glob, smearing its small juicy shape into little streaks.
The other two slaves begged and prayed to Gina’s western boot.
She thought about shrinking them and putting them in her jacket pocket with the rest, but Gina became too excited when she saw the two slaves press their worshipping faces into either side of her cowboy boot, sniffing, licking and kissing the smooth, black leather. Instinctively, the men lowered themselves until they were both licking the sides of the boot’s heavy black heel. She knew if she lifted the heel at all, they would slip their tongues underneath it.
“Well, well, it looks like you two like my boots”. Gina got down on one knee, so she could watch the worshipping slaves closely, also in preparation for when she would shrink them. She always liked to see the tiny men close-up as she squished them.
“Which one of you gets shrunk first? Hmm...”
Her comment made the slaves both lick the sides of her heel faster, hoping to please their Goddess. Gina tapped the one on her right on the head. “You...get under the heel a little,” she whispered as she tilted the heel to the side, enough so that the slave could get his eager tongue on the smooth blackness of the heel’s bottom, and lick the Tony Lama logo stamped in the middle. “That’s good, now you...”, she tapped the other one, “lick the back here...” she pointed to the back of the heel, where it jutted out just a little. Both slaves were obeying perfectly.
At that moment, a tall red-haired woman came down from the porch and walked towards Gina. She was wearing a short silver leather dress and an incredible pair of zippered leather boots of elegant silver leather, with medium-height stacked heels that clunked loudy as she walked.
Ginette was too busy watching the heel-worshipping slaves at her feet to notice the approaching woman, but the glint of silver suddenly caught her eye.
“You must be Gina. Everyone’s told me about you,” she said as she glanced down at the two worms.
“Yeah, I guess I just turn them on a little too much. I’ve got a pair of real boot-heel slaves here...”, Gina mused, thinking that these slaves were probably once trained to lick heels, they were doing such a good job.
Rachel stood one of her silver leather boots hard on one of the slaves’ backs, pressing the black tread of the sole and the flat bottom of the stacked heel into its groaning body. “These worms are very squishable. There’s tons of them in the house. You’ll love it”. The red-haired Goddess twisted her heavy heel into the man’s back. The poor slave was trapped between licking the perfect blackness of the bottom of a woman’s cowboy boot heel, and being stepped on by the sole and heel of a beautiful silver leather boot. It didn’t know what to do except beg and whimper.
Gina shrunk the other slave, the one licking the back of her heel, and smiled as its now tiny body grovelled on the ground, staring up at its destiny: the giant black heel that it had been licking was now a hundred times bigger. The slave stared at the shininess of the heel, and could see the little lines from the way it was stacked, and upwards to the towering back of the whole boot, to Gina’s leg overhead in her tight jeans. To his left, Gina’s knee came down where she was kneeling. He loved the way the denim folded there, and the way the seam that ran along the leg of the jeans went with the folds, until it straightened out again on its way down her lower leg, going back to where her other cowboy boot was laying. He turned his worthless attention back to the back of the giant heel, and saw that Gina had tilted it a little to the side, so that the other, still full-size slave could lick the stamp underneath.
All of a sudden, Gina’s giant finger appeared behind him, and started sliding him forward, slipping him under the heel! “What are you waiting for, slave? You belong under here”. He was now under the huge Tony Lama stamp on the bottom of the heel, and the full-size slave’s tongue was perilously close to catching him. The poor, tiny man begged and begged as Gina’s boot-heel came down, until the letters of the stamp were resting on top, of him. He wriggled and soon his whole world was that stamp. He looked to the side and saw the other slave’s tongue trying to get under the heel, but there wasn’t enough space.
Rachel grew impatient and shrunk the one she was standing on. Her silver boot came down on the ground and she rested it on its stacked heel, hovering the treaded sole over the worthless insect that was once a man.
The slave under Gina’s heel was so trapped he could barely move, but he was able to still look to the side. He saw the big slave suddenly get small, and watched with excitement as the helpless little man started to run towards Gina’s heel and join him underneath it. After all, he had been licking that stamp and now he might get the chance to become part of it! But the gigantic heel of Rachel’s boot thundered downward. The noise was deafening, and the tiny man stopped running and just squirmed, looking up at the beautiful fine tread of the silver boot’s sole.
Gina loved the way it felt, having that little man trapped under her western heel, but she wanted the other one to join it. “Come on, Rachel, let him join his friend...”
But Rachel just smirked and lowered her sole slowly. The squirming slave looked up at the descending black tread of that non-skid sole. He could see tiny pebbles, inground dirt, small bits of flaky crud. There were probably a lot of male bodies ground into that tread. Soon, the lines of the tread were on top of him. Rachel was laughing as she felt the miniscule bug wriggling between the narrow spaces of that perfect tread.
The man under Gina’s heel saw that sole descend and the tiny man trapped under it become stuck in the tread, inches away from his own predicament! Indeed, Rachels’ sole was right next to Gina’s heel. Both men could see each other about to be crushed!
“I guess they’ll have to accept their destinies,” said Gina as she pressed a tiny bit harder, making the heel-worshipping slave scream under the Tony Lama stamp. It was being pressed by the identations and marks that made up the stamp. It was stuck in a sideways position, staring along the bottom of the heel, out to where the other slave was trapped in Rachel’s boot-tread. It’s screams could never be heard, of course.
It tried to twitch, but the pressure from Goddess Gina’s gigantic heel was too much. All it could do was guess who would be flattened first.
He was lucky to live long enough to see Rachel’s giant silver leather boot finally step firmly down, crushing the trapped slave into the black ridges of the sole’s tread. Almost immediately, Rachel lifted her sole up enough so that she could see the beads of goo left over from the squished man, drops of glistening mush that strung from the tread to the ground.
He also was lucky enough to see Rachel’s fingers slipping under the boot, feeling across the tread for the wet spot. It was pure heaven.
At that moment, the Tony Lama stamp came flat down.
Gina lovingly pressed the obedient little worshipper under her heel with a nice, smooth crush. She moaned to herself as she listened to the quiet sound of liquid stuck to the bottom of the heel, then lifted her heel to examine the red splotch. “I’ve got quite a few men crushed into this stamp already tonight,” she said as she stood up.
Rachel tilted her sole to the side, looking at the trace of wetness that she still felt with her fingers. “Oh, you should see how many bodies I’ve got into this tread. Right during that moment when they’re squashing into the tread, you can feel their guts filling the spaces. It’s great”.
And with that both women went up the path to the porch.
Back to Story Index
Home