In the heart of the city, the people frantically craned their necks between the feet at the edge of the skyscraper district, and her face looming above with a dominant, beautiful grin. Many could see up her skirt, though it fell to shadow before their vision could even reach the garters on her thighs. Her breasts looked like they would fall out of her low cut top, and surly crush the little metropolis.
As the tiny people tried to breath, all of their air was replaced by the air inside her shoe, wafting off her foot with even more force than before. They could feel her foot sweat accumulating on them, and her face above seemed to fade as clouds formed over them.
Their hair and clothes blew in the hot wind as they heard the first thunder crack rip through the sky. Her face and everything above her ankle all but vanished is the roiling, humid storm that formed overhead.
Rain fell from the sky with a vengence. Many of the citizens thought the rain was some sort of magic spell she cast on them. It would not have been the most absurd notion that thrust itself into their reality within the last few minutes. The drops seemed different somehow to the insignificant population. The beads that formed were bigger, somehow shinier, maybe oilier.
Inevitably, the tiny people tasted the rain, some by accident as if the rain found its way in their mouths by a will of its own. Some tasted the drops on purpose.
The foot fetishists in the crowd immediately knew what this new rain was, and it was all too obvious in retrospect. The most supremely divine foot they had ever had the honorific pleasure to be in the presence of, baptized them in its sweat that fell like rain. The sweat drops invaded every square inch of exposed skin, and soaked their clothes. None of them had rain gear on this warm, clear day. Well-coiffed hair fell in sultry strands as it soaked up the goddess’s foot sweat rain.
Puddles started to form. Lower-lying areas began to flood. Cars had trouble moving in some of the streets that were in valleys. Gutters filled to the brim. Basements filled. Many of the cars had windows or convertible tops down, and Her foot sweat soaked and ruined upholstery. The grassy ground under the feet of the thousands of citizens at the music festival got more and more muddy. It got impossible to hold their footing. The crowd panicked with nowhere to go, and trampled many fellow members.
The water supply had been low in the dry weather—nothing to worry about, but it was about ¼ capacity before the fall rains came and filled it back up. The drinking water now was becoming more and more of her salty, oily foot sweat. Her new subjects had no choice but to drink it, bather in it, wash their clothes in it. The concentration became more and more hot, pungent goddess sweat and less and less cool, clear water.
The rain continued to inundate their little world. Lightning crashed into the little city. One bolt nailed a tall apartment building. Bricks crumbled off the façade and struck milling, fleeing speck-sized people.
Windshield wipers furiously tried to wipe the rain away, but it seemed to stick to the glass. Many motorists tried to run the air conditioning to stave off the new, oppressive wave of heat from her feet. The vent blasted the smell fo her divine feet right in their faces, as the odor had completely supplanted all air in the city before she arrived. The motorists sat in their cars, many sitting in sweat soaked seats as they had not had time to roll their windows up with the sudden weather change. Every motorist had a single, heard-mentality thought echoing in their brains: Flee the city! This thought, of course, resulted in almost no one moving. The moved toward the edge of the skyscraper infested ant hill they called home, and attempted to get from under the localized cloud that served as a physical manifestation of her rule over them. They could see her stocking covered ankles between the peaks of the skyscrapers and the low clouds…and behind that: sunlight. Like good little bugs, they were drawn to the light. Focussed on the bright salvation.
A thunder clap much louder than the others work them from their fixation, as if they were punished for daring to obsess over anything but their new owner.
But this was not thunder. The goddess began waling around the city, slowly, languidly, almost daintily. The tremors and destruction did not care about her ginger, light steps. The city still shook like a monolithic event was occurring: her simple steps. Her foot falls were trivial, incidental, inconsequential to her (if not slightly pleasurable foreplay before the main event). An after thought. Not really a thought at all. She needed a place to step, to feel the soft ground yiled to her hot sole. This action was automatic.
The storm cloud began to swirl slowly, affected by her saunter around the city’s outskirts. Two and a half miles of an eight-lane highway fell in the shadow of her foot. Derbris from revious steps that had stuck to the outside of her stocking, and some that had slid into the holes in the weave of her stocking rained down. Rocks, busses, trees, and people, hundreds of people fell. Some were still fairly in tact, some already crushed into red masses. The vehicles fell in a range of states as well. Some almost entirely intact with screaming people inside, some all but flattened into a two-dimensional sheet.
The smell and the heat got incredibly intense under the shadow of her foot on the little roadway. Wind picked cars up and whirled them around. Then the stocking enveloped ball of her foot came down in the distance. Her toes splayed above and slowly came down on the other side of the road. The highway might have been spared under the massive space between her toes and the ball of her foot, but the stocking came down upon them like death itself. The fine strands crushed most of the vehicles outright. The threads, almost imperceptible at her scale, were columns of coiling, slick, wet, black crushing force, over 50 foot thick. Once again, many “lucky” survivors found themselves in the holes in the fine weave, only to be spared—for the monet—under toe prints, mired in sweat, or in an even hotter confine between her massive toes. The populating in her stockings, an ever-changing number, started rivaling that of entire towns or villages.
And she picked up settlers in a new area.
Her foot sunk into the soft eart in a way that made her arch touch the ground. Her arch was so delicately sculpted, and high, not to mention wrinkly as she flexed her foot that there were several square miles of her sole that her stocking did not flex flatly on. The heat did not come to a head, nor did sweat accumulate as severely as around the toes, but it was still an extreme of inertia, and flexing, moving, sticky flesh, and collisions with other survivors, and the smell…the smell totally dominated them here too. If these once proud humans at the top of the food chain had not been reduced to panicky bugs, they would have found the spirituality in complete submission to Her. But as it stood, they had only space for two thoughts:
I want to survive.
I know I will not.
So many lives had been claimed, or changed forever. History had been completely re-written for so many. And that was merely the first step she took around the little city.
Many survivors were crushed who had previously found salvation stuck to her goddess skin in wrinkles, and in curves as her foot that was their new world splayed more and compressed more as it was the only tie between her and the tiny world, the only thing bearing her weight, as she lifted her other foot.