A waiter-slave scurried towards her, unable to keep its eager eyes off of Ilene�s tight jeans as they were tucked into a very elegant pair of white leather fashion boots. The boots had three-inch stacked heels and were exquisitely beautiful. Ilene was aware of the staring slave but ignored it, simply crossing and uncrossing her boots as she scrutinized the menu. In the back of her mind she could still hear the sounds of crushing bodies, screaming little men and oozing guts. Oh, what a fun night it had been!
The slave actually dared to bend down enough to look beneath the table at Ilene�s boots. �Those are beautiful boots, Mistress...,� stammered the worthless slave.
�Get me a double espresso, and a chocolate chip muffin,� she said, bringing the slave to attention. It nodded and scurried off. She looked around the patio, but she was the only woman there. The place was empty.
The slave returned with a glass of water and paused pathetically to look at Ilene�s boots again. She smirked and tilted one of the boots on its heel enough so that the worm could glimpse the bottom of the sole. The poor slave gulped at the sight of the tan leather sole with the black rubber non-slip tread.
�I love the sole of your boot, Mistress..,� it pleaded. Ilene raised the boot and rested it over one knee, showing off the tread. �A lot of men loved this sole last night. You can probably find some of them still stuck in there�.
The slave knelt and stared with longing at the black tread of the non-slip sole. He saw miniscule bits of unidentifiable filth wedged inbetween the ridges of the tread. �I wish I was stuck in your boot-sole, Mistress�.
�I spent about an hour cleaning these boots off last night before I went to bed, but it�s hard to get the crud out from that tread. Here, see if you can clean it better�. Ilene motioned the sole closer to its face and the slave understood. It immediately began licking the black rubber, trying to clean out the very narrow lines of the tread.
After a minute, Ilene inspected the tread but there were still plenty of imbedded pink morsels, probably bits of dried pulp. �I�ll shrink you and you can clean out that crud from inside the tread. Okay?� The slave yelped with excitement and was shrunk instantly. Ilene bent down to pick the now iminiscule man off of the ground and lifted him up to the sole, pressing his ant-sized body lightly onto the black rubber tread. �Crawl in there, and lick the ridges clean�.
Ilene drank her water and casually glanced through the Sunday paper, all the while keeping her one boot crossed over her knee, amused that there was a tiny man, smaller than a pebble, crawling in the ridges of her sole�s rubber tread, licking whatever filth it ran into. Occasionally, she would tilt her sole enough to see the little pink shape, edging its way along one gullet, twitching as best as it could in the narrow space. She noticed a faint area of discoloration about an inch ahead of the trapped slave, a spot on the tread where some goo had obviously been ground in pretty deep and left a big splotch that spanned a few lines of the tread. Now the goo had all been tracked off but the faint mark was left. Ilene touched the area with her finger, �There�s some marks over here. Crawl down this way and eat whatever you find. If you�re a good sole-cleaner, I�ll let you live in this tread forever�.
The slave eagerly wriggled its way through the narrow trench that was the space between two ridges, towards the area he saw Ilene�s giant finger pressing. The thought of being stuck to this boot-sole for the rest of its life was incredible, though the slave knew that that probably only meant about another five minutes!
�I guess I need another waiter,� mumbled Ilene, who looked around but didn�t see anyone. She poked the little man in her boot-tread towards the dirty mark in an effort to speed him up. �Come on, you�re too fucking slow�. The slave scurried faster and entered the filthy area, immediately swallowing whatever bits of flaky, embedded crud it saw. Most of the filth took the form of smeared pink mush or little pressed balls of dirt and grime. It was impossible to tell what he was eating. Ilene had probably crushed so many men that their guts were mixed together, most of the goo was tracked off when she walked, plus that became combined with whatever filth she stepped on, while on the pavement or street. It turned the little slave on to think that this boot-sole had squashed many men the night before. He tried to look at the filthy remains for any sign of what was once a man.
But Ilene plucked the slave out of the tread and put him back on the ground, then enlarged him. �Go get my food, then you can come back and play in my sole again�. The slave was confused and had to regain its composure. It wanted to continue worshipping the boot-tread and was afraid to leave it for one second. �Go!,� shouted Ilene, �and tell all your slave-friends to come back with you. I�ve decided to squash all of the men that are here�.
The slave excitedly scurried back to the kitchen to tell the others. He told them about the Goddess� exquisite white leather fashion boots, and the black non-slip soles, and the filth that he saw buried in the tread. He told them that they all could worship her sole and get crushed.
Ilene laughed to herself at the sight of a dozen or so slaves scurrying out of the kitchen to line up on their knees in front of her table. She wasn�t sure which one was the original slave, since men all looked the same to her. �Which one of you was in my tread?�
One of the slaves crawled forward, and Ilene let him lick the sole again. �You still never got me my coffee�. She shrunk him and watched him squirm like the pink ant-speck he now was, a spot on the ground beneath the shadow of her white boot. Ilene lowered her sole until it was about three inches over the trembling slave. �Thanks for bringing back your friends. But you�re a lousy waiter. Die�.
Ilene lowered her sole until she could feel the man�s little body under the rubber tread. It was squirmng right up until its guts splooshed out and became pink mush. Ilene pressed the sole flat on the ground, grinding the pulp into the fine tread. �The rest of you have to learn that the soles of my white fashion boots are the most beautiful thing in the world,� she lifted her boot and showed them the newly created splotch of pink goo embedded on the non-slip sole, �You will all live and die right on this sole. Get ready to be shrunk�.
The men bowed and prayed as Ilene gently touched the glob she had just made with her fingertip. She mushed it around a little bit, rubbing its wetness into the ridges of the tread. She commanded the slaves to get as close as possible, surrounding her boots with their eager faces and tongues. The group of slaves instinctively started licking every inch of the boot that was presently standing upright. They were fighting for space to get their worthless tongues on the soft white leather.
Ilene shrunk one of them and laughed as its suddenly tiny body crawled on top of the white leather toe of the boot. She balanced the boot on its heel and pointed the round toe forward, watching the tiny thing on the very tip. �One of you, eat that off of my toe�.
Ilene broke into hysterics as one of the worshippers licked up the tiny slave and ate it off of her boot-toe. �Do you know what you just did, you stupid fucker?� She rewarded that one by shrinking it next. This slave wound up on the ground, right next to the side of her boot. Ilene kept her boot balanced on its heel, so that the tiny speck of male filth could crawl underneath the sole. �Get under there. Right under the tread and look up at the dead thing stuck to the sole�.
The slave obeyed, wriggling beneath the giant black rubber tread, until it was below the spot where the gooey splotch clung to the ridges. �You see the dead thing? It was a little man just like you. But now it�s ground into my boot-tread. Pray to me, worm. I�ll let you become ground-in, too�.
The little man jerked off like crazy as Ilene�s sole descended slightly, the crushed glob less than inch above. He knew he would soon join that glob.
The rest of the bootlickers kept fighting for space to lick the soft white leather. They were all turned on by the fact that Goddess Ilene had a squashed slave on her sole, and another one ready to be squashed. One of the lickers bent down to try and see the shrunken slave as it got crushed.
�I want all of you worms to beg and scream to be shrunk next. When I kill this thing, I want all of you to cum at the same time as its guts splurt out. Do you understand? If you don�t cum fast enough, you�ll get shrunk and added to the squashed goo and be forced to jerk off in it�.
Ilene felt incredibly powerful (just like last night!). Her headache was completely gone, now that she had lots of little men at her disposal. Slowly, very slowly, she rested her bootsole on top of the trapped slave, feeling it wriggle perfectly under the goo from the already crushed one. A tiny bit more pressure and it would be dead. The other men jerked off faster, almost ready to cum.
�Oh well, I�m not waiting any longer,� said Ilene as she pressed her sole flat on the ground, grinding the tiny piece of male flesh into liquid pulp. At that instant, two of the full-size slaves came, shooting semen all over themselves and on the toe of Ilene�s boot.
Ilene quickly raised her sole up to examine the now, much bigger splotch on her tread. The pink goo glistened in the sunlight. She then shrunk the two men who had came and rewarded them both by picking them up between two fingers and pressing both of their soft bodies into the very tip of her bootheel. She lovingly squished both tiny slaves together, rubbing their mushy guts around the rubber tip, and up the stacked leather heel.
The slaves who were still jerking off knew they had lost the race, and were afraid of what Ilene would do, but they kept masterbating.
�Well, I guess those little lucky slaves got a tip. The tip of my bootheel, that is. Now for you worthless fuckers...� She shrunk the remaining eight slaves and looked down at their twitching bodies. She hovered her tread so they could see the still wet goo from the other dead bodies. �I�m a boot goddess. You understand that? Now hurry up and make cum!�
She saw one of the twitching bodies twitch in spurts like it was cumming. Ilene couldn�t tell, since the man was so small. Ilene quickly pressed the very tip of her boot-toe onto the twitching thing, smearing its body into red paste. The slave right next to that one started spurting also, and Ilene smiled. When they were getting crushed, they seemed to jerk off faster.
She gently slid her toe to the side, creating a wet streak from the dead man under her toe and catching the next one while it was cumming. She watched it get pulled under the sole and smeared into soft jelly as she slid across, adding more redness to the streak.
The other six bodies were all twitching in spurts. �Aww, that�s so cute. You�re all so turned on.� She lifted her boot and crossed it over her knee again, examining the newest splotches of wet slave-goo. She liked the small clump of pink and red mush that was spread out near the center of the tread. There was a nice spot of very flat mush under the toe and a beautiful clump of soft pulp clinging to the very tip of her boot�s stacked heel.
Ilene looked closely at the flat bottom of the heel. She always liked the way the heel had a nice black rubber bottom, with a fine cross-hatched tread and three tiny metal studs in a triangular pattern. She had neglected to force any slaves to worship that heel-bottom last night. It was one of her favorite details on this pair, along with the sole�s non-slip tread.
She wiped any trace of goo from the heel-bottom with her finger and bent down to scoop up the remaining worshippers. She held her open palm right next to the dangling heel, letting the tiny men stare closely at the pattern of the heel-tread and the three studs.
�Let�s see,� she poked at their bodies lightly with her finger, �there�s six of you left...that�s one for each stud to start with...� Ilene picked one of the men up and pressed its helpless body firmly into the head of one of the studs, squishing the soft slave into red paste. She pulled her fingertip away and liked the way the spot of redness completely covered the round piece of metal. She quickly grabbed another slave and instantly pressed it into another stud, squeezing its guts out and leaving a nice wet glob of red jelly. Like the other dead slave, this one clung perfectly to the head of the stud.
Ilene hummed to herself as she picked the third little man and casually rubbed its tiny body into the last stud, mushing it into easy soft pulp, loving the way it felt, killing a man into one of the studs on her boot�s heel bottom. �You men are so worthless. Isn�t that cute? Three little dead things...� She cackled as she tilted the heel around, showing off the three stuck globs.
The slaves still in her palm begged and prayed, but Ilene simply lifted her hand up enough so that the three tiny insects were pressed gently by her palm into the heel-tread. �You three, lick the bottom of that heel. It�s such a beautiful place for you to die�. Of course, the tiny men obeyed, licking the giant black rubber as best as they could, being pressed by Ilene�s huge palm. Where else could they go?
The truth is, the three slaves were secretly wishing they could be crushed into the sole�s tread. After they had heard about that sole, they had all been excited. Once they had seen it, they were obsessed with it. Sure, the heel was beautiful, but they all were fantasizing about the sole.
It didn�t matter, because Ilene used her palm to press one of the twitching bodies harder, crushing it into the heel. She liked the way she could decide which of the three bumps to flatten. Now she only had two left. The one that was flat felt moist as it�s guts trickled into the tread. �Mmmm, one down...two to go,� she sung to herself.
The two slaves still licking the heel-tread had panicked when they felt the giant plam press harder, and when the heard the squishing sound of the third heel-licker, they begged and screamed for Goddess Ilene to crush them quickly.
But Ilene allowed the worms to keep licking for a while, letting them guess who was going to die next.
Suddenly, she pried her palm away from the heel, enough to see the squirming slaves, then picked one up with two fingers. �You like the bottom of my fashion boot heel? Try the arch instead�. She moved the little man to the stamp that said 10M and poked his squirming body into the letters. �See what size I wear?� The slave prayed to the giant stamp, worshipping the 10M as Ilene�s fingertip pressed harder. �You�re a lucky little slave. You get to learn what size my boots are before you die�, and with that, Ilene pressed the miniscule man harder, crushing its helpless body flat into the letters. She laughed as she smeared the soft paste into the stamp.
The last slave didn�t know what to do. He was still being held in front of the heel-bottom, but had just seen the other slave get squashed into the arch. He was also still thinking about that sole.
Ilene picked him out of her palm and held him right up to her eye, looking at the slave�s small pink shape as close as she could. �It must be so nice to know a woman is going to squash you, especially under her new leather boots. Where do you want to die, slave? Under my heel, my arch or my sole?�
The poor slave wriggled in Ilene�s fingertips, begging to be crushed into the sole, but he was so tiny, Ilene couldn�t hear him.
�I think you belong here...�, she held him in the exact center of the sole, just as he had dreamed! The slave squirmed with pure ecstacy, staring at the black ridges of the non-slip sole, and the gooey clumps of squashed bodies that were imbedded all over. He couldn�t wait to be next!
�Let�s get you ground in really good...,� she said as she pressed him firmly into the tread, crushing his body flat into liquid paste. Ilene mushed it around, working it into the ridges of the tread, satisfied at the variety of marks on her sole, heel and arch.