A Rough Night With Daphne

The house was quiet, almost eerily so, as Frank used as much strength as he could muster from his bruised body to crawl underneath the gigantic closed door from the dark bedroom inside to the hallways outside illuminated by a light from the ceiling. At his present state, standing at only two inches tall, such a feat was rather easy to accomplish, but he knew he had a long journey ahead of him. Standing to his feet, he looked further down the large corridor, spotting what looked like the entrance to the staircase towards the end to his right. Wasting no time, he bolted in that direction.

As he ran, he reflected on his situation and how he had gotten to this point. It all started with his usual visit to his favorite nightclub, something he always did on Friday nights after the long work week. He would drink, dance with several women, and--if he got lucky (and he often did)--go home with one of them. The night before started out the same as usual, this time becoming enamored with an unfamiliar face: a young goth woman who stated her name as "Daphne".

After dancing with her for a while, he suggested that they leave the club and go somewhere more "private". She agreed and led him to her car, where they proceeded to kiss and fondle each other. It was then and there that things took a shocking turn, as he soon found himself reduced down to his present size and held in the palm of her hand. Even worse, she did not appear shocked at all; in fact, it seemed as if she had planned it the entire time.

Daphne brought him here to her house, where over the next day she tortured and abused him in such demeaning ways that he did not think possible for one human to inflict on another, and he had the puncture wounds and broken nose to prove it. No matter how much he begged for mercy, she kept at it for hours, breaking only to eat and to relieve herself. Eventually, she grew bored of him and placed him in a shoebox on top of her dresser. She then got dressed and left the house, having been gone for hours at this point. Soon after she had left, Frank made his move: he managed to climb out of the box and then carefully made his way down to the floor; he had experience with mountain-climbing, but both the box and dresser were challenges unlike any he had faced before. Eventually, he made it to the hardwood floor and started his escape attempt.

Frank pushed his body to its limit as he ran down the colossal hallway. He had to get out of the house, before she returned. He was unsure of what to do after he got outside; the logical thing to do was seek help, but how would he go about doing that? He figured that he'd figure it out once he was in relative safety.

He had passed the halfway point in the hall. He had the staircase in clear sight. He just had to push his body just a little more.

Just then, his body instinctively came to a complete stop as he heard a sound from below. The sound of a heavy door opening, and then closing, followed by heavy footsteps.

Daphne had returned.

"Shit!" Frank frantically looked around to find somewhere to hide. Unfortunately, the only hiding place nearby was the table that was too far for him to reach in time.

He heard those footsteps become louder, drawing ever closer. They were descending the stairs, the stairs that he was closer to than anything else. He looked towards the wall, and concluded that it was his only chance of avoiding detection. Wasting no time, he sprinted in a mad dash towards the wall, hoping that his size and his proximity to the wall would cause her to overlook him, at least give him time to make it to the stairs before she discovers that he's gone.

After reaching the wall and pressing himself against it as hard as he could, he looked towards the stairs, and saw the woman herself: Daphne, a pale-skinned brunette wearing what appeared to be the same or a similar outfit that she wore the night before: an almost-sleeveless black shirt, long black fingerless gloves, a black denim miniskirt, and black platform boots that added a good three inches to her natural height of around 5' 7". Coupled with her black lipstick and nail polish, she definitely had the goth ensemble down; it's what caught his attention in the first place at the club, though of course, he now wished that he had held out for someone else.

Frank stood as still as he could, careful not to make any sort of discernible movements that could draw her attention. His eyes were fixed upon the admittedly beautiful giantess, anticipating her next move.

She started to walk down the hallway in Frank's direction, her heavy boots shaking the floor with each step and making it hard for Frank to keep his footing. He held on to hope that she would not notice him and pass him by, as her gaze seemed affixed dead forward.

However, after a few steps, she stopped in her tracks. She looked downward towards the floor, ...and right in Frank's direction. Her eyes meeting his comparably tiny sent a large chill down his spine.

"You think I didn't see you?" she curtly said. "Get over here." She pointed down to a spot right in front of her.

Frank's legs were trembling, almost to the point of him losing balance, but they still managed to carry him to the designated spot. She was staring straight at him all the while, her cold, dark eyes seeming piercing right into his soul.

"Please..." He whimpered out. "Let me go."

"What'd you say?"

"I promise I won't tell anyone!!" Frank blurted out. "Just let me go home!!"

"You're pretty stupid if you think I'm gonna fall for that." Daphne placed her hands on her hips. "In fact, you're never getting out of here. Ever."

Frank fell to his knees in anguish. Whatever little hope he had of freedom had been completely extinguished.

Daphne's mouth formed into a smug smile. "...Not alive, at least."

She moved her right foot off the floor and lifted it over Frank's body, providing him with a clear view of the sole of her size 8 boot.

"No!!" Frank scrambled to his feet and started to run in the direction opposite from her. "Don't do this!! I'll do whatever you want!!"

"Sorry, but I already have someone else with me. Someone better-looking," Daphne replied. "And you..." She began to step down. "...Have outlived your usefulness."

As soon as that last word left her lips, her heavy boot made contact with the wooden floor and upon the tiny man below her. She pressed down as hard as she could, breaking every bone in his body with a wet squish, and--not braking her stride--continued onward towards her bedroom. She looked back at the remains, the completely flattened body of what was once a man left in a deep crimson splatter of blood on the floor, her boot tracking a lessening amount of blood with each step it took.

"I've been waiting to do that all day," she said to herself, her tone that of obvious satisfaction.

Reaching her bedroom door, Daphne pressed her right foot hard against the floor and pulled it back, trying to scrape off as much of the blood as she could from her boot. She did this a few times before she was confident that she would not track much of it into her room. She opened the door and walked inside, flipping on the light switch in the process. She headed towards her neat queen-sized bed and sat down on it. She let out a deep sigh and gazed at the ceiling for a few seconds, before reaching down underneath her skirt and into her panties. Her fingers fished around briefly before they caught ahold of what she was seeking.

She pulled her hand out from the warm prison, in its grip another tiny man, the latest victim of Daphne's deception. The two-inch-high, blond-haired young man was breathing heavily, and his clothes and skin were somewhat moist from sweat and perhaps a bit of vaginal juices.

"You disappoint me," Daphne said to him. "Especially with how you wanted to get in my panties so badly."

The man didn't respond, at least not verbally. He merely glared at her with eyes that exuded both anger and fear.

Daphne shrugged. "Well, whatever. I can think of some other things to do with you. I can take care of myself later."

Finally, the man spoke. "...What are you going to do to me...?"

"Have some fun, of course!" she answered in a bit of an upbeat tone. "That's what you wanted, right?"

She dropped him onto the bed besides her. "Don't move, alright?" she ordered.

With her hand free, she reached down towards her legs and began to untie her right boot. Since her boots nearly came up to her knees, she had to loosen much of the lace on the way down so that she could remove it. Eventually, the boot became loose enough for her to slip out removed her bare foot from within. She did the same with the other boot, and with her right foot pushed both boots aside.

With her feet freed from their confinement, Daphne turned to the spot where she had placed the tiny man on her bed. However, he was not there. She looked around a bit before she spotted him, still on the bed but running away from her.

"Are you serious right now?" With her left hand, she reached out towards the man and placed it firmly down on top of him. The force was not enough to crush him, but it was enough to knock him off of his feet and pin him against the mattress. Even then, she could feel him moving underneath her hand, struggling to escape.

She pulled her hand back, taking the tiny man within her fingers once more and bringing him back to her.

"I thought I told you not to move," she said as she brought him to her face. "It's not like you could escape, anyway. I'm just so much bigger than you."

"...I'll do anything," the man said in a defeated tone. "Just don't hurt me..."

Daphne smiled. "I'm glad that you feel that way, Dean."

She leaned forward and lowered Dean onto her right foot, releasing him there before pulling herself back. The man looked around briefly before attempting to stand up on the slope of her foot.

"Just be a good little toy, and don't do anything stupid," Daphne said as the man looked up towards her. "You got it?"

Dean nodded.

"Good. Now, I want you to lick my foot."

She expected Dean to make a protest of this command, as with some of her previous captives, but the man swiftly obeyed and dropped down on his hands and knees to carry out the task. She could feel Dean's tiny wet tongue rub against her flesh as it moved in a repeated vertical fashion, and he himself slowly crawled ahead as if to lap up more of her foot in an apparent effort to appease her.

Despite his size, she had to admit that it felt nice. This tiny man seemed to really be into it, which was something that most other guys seemed to have trouble with. She was not sure if it was because he felt that doing it the "wrong" way would anger her, or if there was another reason entirely. In truth, she didn't care.

She did nothing but watch him for a couple of minutes before she grew tired of it. "Okay, that's enough."

Dean withdrew his tongue and lifted his head up towards her face high above him.

"Not bad, little man," she complemented. "I hope you can keep up that enthusiasm."

She tilted her foot to the right, causing Dean to roll off of it and onto the carpeted floor below. Now lying on his back, he rubbed his head and seemed to be attempting to regain his bearing. As he began to sit up, she lifted her foot off of the floor and lowered it onto his body; upon seeing this, the man started to scream and protest. As her bare sole fell upon the tiny man, she could feel his limbs flailing about frantically, and she could still hear his muffled yelling. She pressed down a bit harder, not enough to crush him, but just enough to keep him secure in place.

"Ohh, you don't like that?" She mocked. "Well, too bad."

She kept her foot on place, relishing in the feel of his tiny body struggling against her might. As he continued to scream and plead, she could feel his hands banging against her sole and even trying to push against it in an attempt to lift it from his body; a futile effort, if there ever was one.

"Yeah, you hate this, don't you?" She said to him, unsure if he could hear her. "You're so small and helpless, you can't even get a 120-pound woman's foot off of you, can you? What a weak little man!"

It seemed that her words had reached him, as his efforts to free himself hastened. In response, she pressed down with a slight bit more force. Again, she was careful not to smash him into the carpet, but it seemed as if the force on the man was too great, as nearly all of his movement stopped.

"Oh? You did beg me to not hurt you, didn't you?" She asked, though not out of any genuine concern. "I never agreed to that."

Underneath Daphne's foot, Dean found himself barely able to move at all; the force being applied upon his body that great. Engulfed in darkness and pressed into her soft sole, he could smell and breathe nothing but the somewhat rank odor of her foot, likely from having been inside of leather boots all day. To avoid suffocating, he had turned his head to the side, but even then his view was limited to nothing but blackness and a small bit of light seeming in from outside of her foot.

He could do nothing but think on how he got himself into this situation. Though he never made it a habit of visiting the local bar and club, he decided to give it a go tonight and see what would happen. There, he met this attractive young woman oddly dressed in goth wear, something that was not a common sight these days. On her request, he followed her to her car, an action that he now regrets, as that was the moment that his life changed.

As he pondered over this, he felt the weight upon his body weaken somewhat, before the foot pulled away, finally returning light to his world. However, only his head was completely exposed to the outside, exposed between the big and second toes of her foot, with the rest of his body below the shoulders still trapped beneath the massive ped. He looked up, past her bare leg, and towards her face high above, her eyes locked right upon his. He shivered in fear, apprehensive of what was to come next.

"Look at you," Daphne said. "I bet you can't even get out from there, can you? Go on, try!"

Unsure if it was instinct or if, deep down, he wanted to prove her wrong, Dean attempted with all of his might to pull himself free. He tried to free his arms from beneath her foot, but as he struggled, Daphne once again started to apply more weight upon his body, making his task difficult. However, he kept at it, bearing through the pain of her foot pressing down on his torso and his fight against it. At last, with extreme perseverance, he managed to free his left arm, and his right one followed soon after.

"Hmph... Not bad..." Daphne said.

Dean continued his efforts, but Daphne suddenly moved her foot off of his body, causing him to jolt back due to the strength he was exerting to free himself. Breathing heavily and despite his aching body, he stood to his feet, but as he did so, he found her foot rapidly approaching him, and before he could react, he was captured and held between the very same toes that he had been exposed between less than a minute before. Now suspended in the air, Dean's legs kicked wildly, though he held onto her black-polished toes for dear life. He watched Daphne, wondering what was next in this unfortunately turn of events that his already irregular night had taken.

Then, her toes began to squeeze. Dean screamed loudly as he felt his torso compress due to the force that Daphne was exerting upon him. Unlike before, where he at least had the carpet to cushion him, Dean was trapped between two forces that were both actively pressing against him, and the pain was unbearable. He pounded his fists against each of the toes, before trying to push himself from the toes' grasp, but it only served to intensify the pain.

"Let me go!!!" Dean yelled out. "Please!!!"

There was no response. Daphne only continued squeezing him, even tightening her grip, torturing him with both the pain and the duration of it. It seemed like minutes had passed, although much less time had. He continued to scream and struggle, even knowing that doing so only played to her desires. Her toes persisted, and it seemed as if they were intent on crushing his ribs between them, or even squeezing out his innards from his body. He was not sure how much more he could take.

After an arduous amount of time had passed, just when it seemed like Dean was at his limit, the pressure decreased, and, though still stuck between Daphne's toes, he found himself being lifted higher into the air and turned to his side, the result of Daphne crossing her right leg over the left one.

Though still aching from the pain, Dean once again tried to free himself, but he was instead plucked out from her toes and held by the giant woman's fingers. He still fought and struggled, but it was a futile effort.

"When will you learn?" Daphne sighed. "They never learn..."

Her hand holding him captive did not travel far. It turned him towards the sole of the same foot that had been dominating him so far, and moved him toward it, eventually pressing his face into the ball of her foot. He felt one of her fingers on the back of his head forcing it even more into the sole and forcing it from side to side, which also caused his mouth to open and take in the slightly salty taste of her sole onto his tongue.

"Kiss it," he heard her command.

He immediately did as she demanded, puckering his lips and quickly planting a rapid succession of kisses upon her foot. Even as she started moving him all around her sole, from her toes to her heel, he kept at it, even suffering slight friction burns on his lips during the process. This continued for two more cycles around her foot, before he was stopped and held in place where he had begun.

Daphne moved backwards a bit on her bed, and brought up her other leg from the floor, keeping Dean pressed against her sole all the while. Turning her other leg so that the soles of her feet were facing each other, she brought them together, and release her hand's grip on the tiny man right before they closed on him. With him securely in place, she started to rub her feet against each other, and with each motion, Dean sandwiched between them was spun around and around, back and forth with each motion, rolling from the ball of one foot and the heel of the other, and visa-versa. A rogue smile formed on her face as she imagined what he was experiencing at that moment, reduced to nothing more than a living foot toy for her.

Dean knew that there was nothing he could do. He did not even bother screaming, as he knew that it'd accomplish nothing but wear out his throat. The soles of both feet pressed hard against his body and violently rolled him between them. One second, he was pressed near the crevice underneath her toes, and the next, he was being forced into the hell of her foot, and the process continued. The sudden rapid movements almost gave him whiplash, and also made him more and more dizzy. Despite this, he was careful not to move his limbs, as one wrong move could lead to a broken arm or leg.

Eventually, the rough movement came to a stop, and her feet separated slightly, just enough for him to get some air, which he took full advantage of by breathing heavily. He did not have long to enjoy this reprieve, as Daphne's fingers once again took him within them and pulled him from between her feet. She brought him to her face, holding him right in front of it while her dark eyes watched him. Soon, he was pulled even closer to her face, or more specifically, her lips.

Dean started to panic, as his mind jumped to the worst case scenario: being eaten. As he drew closer and closer to her black lips, he wiggled fiercely to try to free himself. Though deep down, he knew that it would do him no good. As the giant lips loomed before him, he cowered and braced himself for what was assuredly coming next. However, rather than open up, they puckered and he was pressed against them momentarily as she instead planted a kiss upon him. He was rather confused at this gesture, though he did not have much time to think on it or even enjoy the feel of her soft lips, as just as quickly as it happened, he was pulled away from them, leaving a bit of black lipstick on his skin and clothes.

Then, Daphne moved him away from her face completely and reached towards her left, moving past the foot of her bed. There, her fingers receded a bit before tossing him out onto the floor. He landed rather roughly onto the carpet, rolling a bit before he settled on his back. He exhaled heavily, just as he noticed the floor vibrate. He looked towards the young gothic woman, who was now standing on her feet and walking towards him, reaching him in mere seconds. To Dean, seeing her at her full height standing right over him made for a truly imposing sight, and hammered in just how insignificant he was to her.

"Wh... What's next...?" Dean muttered out, though unsure if his words had reached her ears.

The room was almost eerily silent as both he and Daphne stared each other down for several harrowing seconds, Dean's brow sweating in trepidation of what was to come. Soon, a mischievous smile appeared on her face, as she lifted her right foot from the floor and moved it over him once more.

"No!" Dean shouted as he attempted to scrambled to his feet, but her foot fell upon him before he could do so.

Daphne was somewhat elated that Dean still had a bit of fight left in him, as she could feel him struggling to free himself from under her foot. Once again, she was only using enough force to keep him in place, regardless of how much he fought and screamed at her. Stepping down slightly harder, she then lifted her heel and turned it towards the right, turning him with it, after which, she released a bit of the weight upon his body and reoriented her foot so that it was facing forward again. Then, she pulled her foot backwards a bit, until she could feel his body beneath her toes. She curled her toes over him, holding him within the crevice between them and the ball of her foot and squeezed them against his body.

Once again, Dean found the pain unbearable, especially as now his entire body was being compressed. He let out a loud, agonized scream, muffled due to his face being pressed into her second toe. He unable to move his arms as they were both being pressed into his torso.

"C'mon little man!" He heard Daphne say. "Scream for me!"

The pressure intensified, and it felt as if some of his bones were close to fracturing. Dean did not know how much more of this torture he could take. However, before he knew it, the pressure gave away, and he was released from the grasp of her toes, falling back onto the floor. Lying there, he breathed heavily, trying to regain his bearings, before her foot, resting on its heel, descended upon him once again and captured him in the same manner as before. The process begun again as her toes mashed him against the ball of her foot for a deceptively-brief period of time, before releasing him once more. Again and again, her foot fell upon him and took him with it, squeezing him for a short time before letting him fall back to the floor and repeating the process. This occurred several times, and through it all, Dean nearly lost the energy to even scream in pain anymore. He could only hope that this torture would end soon.

As Daphne kept compressing him under her toes, she noticed that Dean's yelling and pleading and attempted struggling had stopped. It wasn't the first time that had happened that night, but through all of the pain she had put him through so far, she wondered if he was at his limit. Or perhaps that he had given in and was simply waiting for it all to be over. She released him onto the floor once more, and as she watched him, he did nothing but lay there, breathing heavily, barely moving at all. She waited for about minute to see if anything would change, but even then, he didn't attempt anything. While she wished that she could keep this session going for a while longer, it was clear that he did not have much energy left to entertain her. She just wished that he was not completely sapped of his strength.

"You look pretty beat up, little man," she said. "Was it all too much for you?"

Dean did not respond. At least, not verbally. Instead, he lifted up his arm and fist, sticking up its middle finger in a clear expression of hatred. This did not even anger Daphne; in fact, she found it somewhat amusing. Perhaps this act of rebellion against her earlier demands was a sign that he knew that he more than likely would not escape with his life.

Perhaps she should give him that chance, she pondered.

"Little man," she said, pressing her left foot's big toe upon his face and rubbing it. "Looks like you're running out of gas." She moved her toe in a circular fashion, moving his face along with it. "That's a shame. I still had some other stuff planned, but I guess that's how things go sometimes. Sometimes, you little guys just can't take it."

She snatched her foot back, forcing his head with a quick jolt in that direction.

"Can you stand?" She asked.

Dean did not seem to make any effort to do so at all. At least, not at first. After a while, the tiny man slowly sat up and then struggled to his feet. He stumbled a bit, likely due to the pain that he was still in.

"Okay, good," Daphne said. "Here's the deal. I want you to run as fast as you can out of this room. If you can make it outside of this house alive, then I'll let you go. Think you're up for it?"

Dean slowly backed away from her. She could make out an anxious yet determined look on his face. After taking a few more nervous steps back, Dean turned around and bolted, running as fast as his body would presently allow, though he was limping somewhat. Daphne found it somewhat marvelous what the human willpower could allow, that even now, Dean still found the strength to give his body one last push.

Even then, she could not resist messing with him.

With her right foot, she reached out towards the fleeing man and pressed its big toe against his back, pushing him off of his feet and onto the floor once again. Her toe pressed down on him, pinning him in place as he scratched at the carpet and yelled at her to let him go.

"Ah! You still do have some fight left in you!" Daphne exclaimed.

She lifted her toe, and as Dean prepared to stand up, she brought it back down upon him, forcing him back onto the floor. This time, Dean yelled several expletives at her, which did nothing but make her chuckle at the futility of it. Lifting her toe again, she watched as he once again tried to stand to his feet, and for a third time, her toe descended and smashed him back into the carpet.

Dean let out a yell of frustration. "Stop it, you crazy bitch!!" He blurted at her.

Daphne laughed. "Okay, fine."

She removed her toe from his body, and allowed him to get back to his feet and continue running. She watched him for several seconds, making a beeline towards the open door, before she stepped closer to him and lifted her right foot over him.

Dean was focused almost completely on the doorway ahead of him as he saw a shadow appear around him. He looked upwards and saw Daphne's sole falling upon him. Before he could react, it collided with his body and once again he was forced off of his feet and onto the floor, this time trapped beneath her entire foot.

"Augh!!" He yelled in anger. He should have known that she would not make his escape easy for him. He wondered if she had intended for him to escape at all.

Her sole pinning him against the floor, he tried to crawl out from underneath it, but just like before, she was using just enough force to prevent it from happening. Even with his body in extreme pain, he tried his hardest to pull himself free, or at least move an inch to prove that it was possible. However, it seemed that the harder he pulled, the more she pressed down, as if she knew that he would eventually free himself if she did not push back. Even then, he did not give up.

Soon, her foot lifted, and he was once again exposed to the open. Wasting no time, he stood to his feet, bore the pain, and continued his sprint. He just knew that she would attempt to impede his progress again, but he at least wanted to gain some good distance before she did so.

After a minute with no interruptions has passed, Daphne spoke once more. "I think you could use a little help. Here, let me give you a boost."

As he continued to run, Dean looked behind him only to see her toes rapidly approaching him and striking him in the back. The force knocked Dean into the air and sent him flying forward, eventually falling back onto the floor right at the edge of the doorway. His spine was now in pain, but he endured it as he stood back to his feet and ran out into the hallway.

Daphne watched as the determined tiny man rushed out of the bedroom, up until he completely exited her line of sight.

"Well, since he's out there now," she said to herself. "It's time to put an end to this."

She already knew how she would ultimately be dealing with Dean; stomping out Frank earlier had given her a bit of an appetite for it, and she had decided even before she had pulled Dean out from within her panties that he too would be meeting the same fate. However, she did not want to get her foot dirty with his remain, nor did she want to go through the effort of putting her boots back on.

She walked back to her bed and got down on her hands and knees to search underneath her bed. Her eyes scanned the relative darkness until they locked onto what she was looking for: her pair of black flip-flops. She grabbed them both and pulled them out onto the open floor, before standing up and slipping her feet into each one. She looked down at her feet in the sandals, wiggling each of her toes, and an excited smile formed on her face as she looked back towards the doorway.

"Okay. Time to go stomping!"

~~~

Dean continued his marathon sprint, almost completely ignoring the pain that he was in. Minutes passed, and there seemed to be no sign of the deranged woman. He did not know if that was a good thing, or a sign that she was planning something. Either way, thinking on it would not do him any good, and so he kept running.

As he ran, he had noticed smears and splatters of a dark red liquid on the floor, and eventually he came to a rather gruesome sight: a deep red splatter with a completely flattened body in the middle of it. Dean's sprint briefly came to a stop as he gawked at it, though doing so made him want to vomit. He had never seen such a freshly-killed body in his life, nevermind one that had been crushed flat.

Then, he heard footsteps. Footsteps coming from behind him, from within the bedroom. He turned around and saw Daphne standing in the doorway, now donning a pair of black flip-flops upon her feet. Her eyed locked right on his position, and she flashed an evil smirk. Now having seen this unfortunate person that had been obliterated some time before, it did not take long for Dean to connect the dots in his mind: he was next.

"I see you've seen my handiwork," Daphne said. "If you don't want that to happen to you, you'd better get a move-on."

With his heart racing in fear, Dean heeded her advice and resumed running. He ran as fast as his body would allow, hoping that he could take the minute chance that he had of escaping the household. He could just make out the stairwell in the distance to his right; all he had to do was focus on that.

However, he then heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind, each step creating a tremor in increasing intensity that threatened to knock him off of his feet. He didn't want to look behind, as he knew what would meet him upon doing so, so instead he kept his focus ahead of him. However, a dark shadow appeared around him, and as he looked up and saw the front edge of her right sandal's sole descending from above.

"No!!" Dean yelled as he hasted his pace. By doing so, he managed to escape the shadow, just as her foot slammed down onto the floor right behind him, creating a large shockwave that actually did succeed in knocking him down. He immediately stood back up and continued to run.

He did not get long of a reprieve, as it was her left foot's turn to torment him, this time rising into the air and stomping down right beside him. The sound of it hitting the floor was almost deafening, and the gust that it kicked up along with the tremor once again make Dean stumble and fall onto the floor.

Daphne brought her other foot forward to join its companion, and Dean found himself set on the floor between both of her feet, and he looked upwards, past her bare legs, past her denim skirt, past her black shirt, and up towards her face way high above him. She simply looked back down at him, wearing the same smirk on her face that she had before. To Dean, it was bone-chilling how little regard to human life she had, that she would go so far as to crush a fellow human being as if they were nothing more than an insect made him sick to his stomach.

She then started to slide her feet together, close the gap between them and threatening to once again trap him within. He immediately got back on his feet and resumed running, though at this point it was more as if he was fleeing than anything else. Either way, he tried to stay as focused on the stairwell as he could, hoping that with enough determination, he could avoid her footfalls and reach it.

Suddenly, a large shadow passed overhead, before her right foot stomped down right in his path. He narrowly avoided the foot by veering to his left, but it seemed as if she had anticipated this, as her left foot immediately crashed down in front of him, so close that he could not prevent himself from colliding into its heel. After hitting its flesh, he was knocked backwards and fell onto the floor once again.

As he stood up, the very same foot pulled backwards and hit him once more, sliding him some distance back the way that he had come from, undoing much of his progress. Daphne turned around and approached him, her feet creating loud crashes with each step. Dean slowly stood back up, but as she reached him, he knew that it was over for him. All hope he had of escaping had been crushed just like that man from before.

"Please don't...!" He begged the towering giant. "Don't do this!!"

"Don't do what?" She mocked.

"Don't kill me! I'll do whatever you want! Anything!!"

"Anything?" Daphne repeated.

"Yes, anything!!"

Daphne let out a quiet laugh. "That's good, little man, because the only thing I want you to do is to let me step on you."

"What!!" Dean exclaimed. "No!! Why!? You can't do this to people!!"

Daphne shrugged. "'People'? I don't see a person. I see a tiny little bug trying to delay the inevitable. Why don't you be a good little bug and let me squash you!"

There was no getting through to her, Dean knew that for sure, but there was also no escape from this. He was officially trapped.

"Okay? Okay." Daphne then lifted her right foot from the floor and held it mere inches over Dean's head, providing him with a view of the black sole of her flip-flop. "Time to exterminate this nasty insect."

"No!!" Dean turned around to run, but it was too late. Her foot fell upon him and pushed him into the hard wooden floor.

Captured completely underneath her sandal, Dean didn't even have time to even attempt a move before the pressure slowly increased by the ton, Daphne clearly no longer holding back any of her strength. Time seemed to slow down tremendously as Dean felt his body breaking underneath the weight of her foot. The pain was excruciating, and he wanted to scream out as loud as he could, but he was unable to do so as his throat filled with blood. As he body compressed more and more, he felt nearly all of his bones crack and break under the force, and his vision soon blurred with both blood and tears, and after what seemed like several agonizing minutes, as he briefly regretted ever going to the night club that night, he finally blacked out.

~~~

Daphne opted to crush Dean slowly, to prolong his last moments alive as long as she could. She slowly applied more and more pressure, relishing in the feeling of his frail skeleton breaking beneath her sandal along with the wet crunching going along with it. Before long, her foot completely settled on the floor, and no doubt that the tiny man's life had been extinguished.

She pressed down even harder, crushing more of his bones in the process. She then slightly lifted her heel and began twisting her foot from side to side, grinding his body into more and more of a bloody pulp. After a while, she stopped and removed her foot to observe the aftermath; as expected, Dean was not only completely crushed into a puddle of blood, but he had been completely demolished into nothing more than a goo of flesh, viscera, bone, and cloth. There was almost no sign that it had been human at all.

She lifted her right foot and held it in her hand, turning its sandal's sole towards her. There, she found more of Dean's remains, specifically what just barely looked like parts of his torso. She placed her foot back onto the blood splatter and, while pressing against the floor, she pulled her foot back, smearing blood and bits of flesh, bone, and cloth into a deep crimson trail along with it.

She let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. "I really love doing that," she said, as she leaned back against the wall, reached into her skirt and panties, and started fondling herself.

More than anything else, crushing a human being underfoot as if they were nothing more than a bug gave her a high unlike anything else in the world. One could say that she lived for that. As she fingered herself, she relived everything about her night with Dean, from his initial kissing of her foot, to being tortured and dominated by her feet, and ultimately climaxing with his end underneath her foot. She became weak-kneed, and soon fell to her bottom as she mentally played his death over and over again.

Already, she was anticipating the next time she would be able to crush someone else unfortunately enough to fall into her trap. In fact, she could easily go back out that night and find someone else to shrink with her magic and bring home.

However, as she thought this over, her stomach started to growl rather loudly. It seemed that with how much fun she was having, she neglected to feed herself. It had been several hours since she had eaten anything.

She sighed. "I guess the bugs can wait."

Standing up and slipping out of her flip-flops, she stepped over the mess of Dean's remains and headed for the very stairwell that the minuscule man fought so hard to reach.



[THE END]