I wrote this story for, and about, my wife. Please don't squish me, babe!


Stacey stood outside the club, waiting in line. The thump of the bass was palpable through the air and pounded though the concrete. She could feel the beat in her feet through her purple converse sneakers. She stood and tapped her toe to the rhythm subconsciously. Unlike most of the people in line, she was there for the music and had extensive knowledge of the DJ performing performing that night.

She rolled her eyes when one of the ditzy girls in front of her on her phone called the music "techno or dubstep or whatever."

She wanted to inform the girl that it was actually Trance, but held her tongue. There was no use talking to these people. They only came to these places to get wasted, high, or laid. They didn't care about the melodies of Cosmic Gate or Paul van Dyk. Stacey was a pure club-goer through and through.

She got her ticket scanned by a large man in a tight black shirt. She had printed it at home weeks ago and she has been looking forward to this for a while.
She stuffed the ticket back in her purse and waited to be checked by security.

She really hoped she wouldn't be hassled for what else she had in her compact purse. When she got up to the next security man, he waved the wand over her body and asked to see her purse. She nervously handed it over and he pawed though it. He pulled out an odd-looking device that looked like a metal brick with a circle on one side and a transparent viewfinder on one edge. It was obviously a camera but the bouncer had never seen one quite like this before.

"Just make sure the flash is off," he grumbled, put the device back, and called the next person in line. Stacey was in and she got to bring her device. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it tonight, but at the same time, she was somewhat itching to.  

She entered the club and rounded the corner and was instantly enveloped in the sounds of her favorite music. First, she went to the bar and ordered a Red Bull with vodka and found a place on the dance floor.

The opening DJ was someone local but knew how to keep the crowd going until the main show.

Her smartwatch struck midnight and the DJ handed the knobs to the headliners and the dance floor exploded with movement. People were packed in like sardines near the front, but Stacey preferred to hang back in the latter part of the room so she could have a bit of room to dance, and breathe for that matter.

The DJ duo were dropping hit after hit and the lighting and lasers were on point. They must have brought in their own people, it was so in sync.

Stacey was dancing to her heart's content and felt her body graze someone behind her. She instinctively edged forward. She thought she may have drifted into someone else's personal space. Whoever was close to her was once again upon her and she felt a hand lightly brush her side. This hand was hovering around her deliberately.

She was afraid of this. It seemed to be a common occurrence for her at this club. She spun around and found a guy about five inches shorter than her, straddling where she just was. She glared at him and he backed off.

That ought to be enough, she thought. But just a few minutes later, he was back at it. It was time to make her intentions clear.

"Could you please give me some space?" she said, through the loud thumping music. The guy just smirked and put his hands up in a mock defensive stance.

Stacey hated this part of club culture. She was not there to pick up our be picked up and nothing would sway her otherwise.

By the time the guy had his arm around her again, she had had enough. That was it. No more warnings. She listened carefully to the song that filled the room. She knew it well and knew a powerful buildup was coming. She waited until 5 seconds before the drop and whipped out her device. She turned around and aimed though the viewfinder at the guy.

He seemed confused at first but then thought it was a camera and posed with a confused smile.

Just as Stacey planned, when the drop hit, the strobe lights flashed. And so did her device.

***

Ajit didn't know what hit him. The young man saw spots in his eyes and was having a hard time getting his bearings. Those are some bright strobe lights, he thought. Even the music sounded different to him. It was both muffled but at least twice as loud. His insides also vibrated every time he was hit by the bass and it made him feel like he was on the verge of puking every half second.

What he saw next was what sent him over that verge. He gave himself a few moments to recover and wipe his mouth before looking back up, hoping that he was just experiencing the ill effects of too much gin.

They were still there and they were everywhere. Massive pairs of legs towered all around him. Immense swaying and pumping building-like structures dominated his view no matter what direction he turned.

What made matters infinitely worse was not so much the legs, but the feet attached to them. Not one was standing still or confined to one area. They were all stomping in synchronization but were somewhat chaotic in where they landed. Ajit couldn't tell if it was the bass from the music that rattled his bones or if it was the bus-sized shoes pounding the floor.

There were high heels, sneakers, loafers, flats, tennis shoes. There were even some massive bare feet stomping around with heels dangling higher up. With the exception of the open-toed shoes showing off dinner plate-sized glossy nails, he couldn't really tell if some of the giants around him were male or female.

One thing he knew for certain was that he had to get out off the dance floor. If the gargantuan stomping feet didn't kill him, the head-splitting sound of the bass would.

He ran in the direction where there seemed to be a clearing but was narrowly cut off by a massive shiny black leather pump as it came to a booming drop right in front of him. For a split second, he could see himself in its reflection and smell the leather before it rose up into the sky again. He saw the other foot drop and knew that the left one would return and had just enough time to barrel back and watch in horror as the giant uncaring shoe slammed onto the floor where he once was a second ago.

He ran the other direction but there seemed to be no reprieve from the massive stomping shoes around him. He barely had time to react as what appeared to be a Nike billboard swooshed in front of him and the aglet at the end of the shoelace lashed his face. Blood dripped down his brow and he wiped it away. He was feeling woozy and was relieved to find that he had made it to a wall.

He leaned against the white rubber wall to catch his breath and put his head onto the purple cloth to absorb and wipe away the blood.

Wait a second. He didn't remember the walls having any purple or white in them. He turned around with his back to the wall and looked out onto the dance floor. There, about 12 normal sized inches away from him was an identical purple and white wall.

That's when he realized that he was leaning against a purple converse sneaker. He was both relieved and terrified that these sneakers weren't stomping and pumping like the other deadly shoes around him. The sneaker opposite him was tapping its toe slightly.

Ajit slowly looked up above the shoe at the pale ankle where its wearer either had no-show socks or none at all. He looked higher up the massive powerful tower of smooth white skin to pair of jeans shorts and the bottom half of a shirt that contained the logo for the DJs playing tonight. He instantly recognized this titan of a person and his blood went cold.

As if on point with his sudden chilling realization, the giant woman looked down at Ajit. Her face was shrouded in dangling red hair but he recognized those fiery piercing green eyes. It was the girl he was hoping to score with earlier. The one who played hard to get, he thought.

He was saved! He wouldn't become a stain on the dance floor. Surely this woman would save him from the hundreds of dancing gargantuan shoes. That's when he watched the sinister smile creep onto the giant woman's face.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

***

After Stacey had shrunk the rude pervert, she wanted to be done with him. She half expected the dance floor to be his doom, relying on the unrelenting force of unaware club-goers to do her dirty work for her and crush that bug into unrecognizable mush.

She continued to dance and listen to one of her favorite DJs, but the thought continued to nag her. What if he survives? What if someone takes him to the authorities? All she wanted to do tonight was lose herself in the music and some perv was not going to take that away from her. He was a nuisance at normal size and now he was a headache. Stacey had to get her peace of mind.

When the track ended and seamlessly transitioned to the next, Stacey subtly went on the prowl. She continued to move with the beat to blend in and not arouse suspicion, but her eyes were scanning the floor for a little bug of a man.

All she found were discarded plastic cups and napkins that had been stomped gray into the alcohol splashed floor. Still, she wanted to at least find the red puddle he had become to ease her worry. She was relieved, but also disappointed, that she wouldn't have to get her hands, or rather feet, dirty this time. That's when she realized that one of the napkins was actually a tiny man in a white t-shirt.

She made her way in his direction, never taking her eyes off him, in case she lost him again. In a quick instant, some unaware club-goer almost creamed the little man with their shoe, but he got lucky and was only swiped by one of the laces.

While the minuscule man was stunned, Stacey crept upon him and placed her feet apart on either side of the little man. She couldn't help but tap her right toe to the melody as the DJs were playing one of her favorite remixes of a Roxette song.

She looked around the dance floor to see if anyone was watching, but to her relief, everyone was in their own little world. Dancers either gave all their attention to the DJs or to those in the packs they traveled in.

Satisfied that there would be no witnesses, Stacey looked down at her prey. She imagined her hair falling around her face resembled the snakes of Medusa to the tiny man between her shoes. After all, she was now a goddess or titan to him, why not play the part? The only difference was that she wasn't going to turn him to stone.

If she really were Medusa, she'd be facing down a tiny 2 inch stone paperweight right now as she locked eyes with the little man. Without giving it any thought, a devious smile crept onto Stacey's face. He didn't take his eyes from hers but she could see the feeling of relief gradually turn to fear. She secretly reveled in this moment, basked in this feeling of supreme power. It was a power trip like no other, sweetened only by the fact that it was happening to someone who deserved it.

Neither she nor the man moved for several seconds, just like a wild west movie at high noon. Except instead of a church bell and hawk screech, it was the thumping bass that pierced the stillness between them.

Suddenly, the little man broke the stalemate and bolted away from Stacey. He only got about 9 inches before she brought her mammoth size 11 sneaker down right in his path. He tried running the opposite direction but was knocked off his feet by her other shoe stomping his path and his hopes for escape.

Stacey leaned down and said so he could hear her, "Kinda feels bad when someone invades your personal space, huh?"

He was tired, dizzy, and probably nursing a concussion from the shoelace whip. He knew he didn't have a chance of escaping this massive being. Knowing he didn't have the breath to plead and she wouldn't be able to hear his cries of mercy over the music, he got to his knees and clasped his hands in a begging stance.

Stacey was somewhat disappointed that the little perv had given up so soon, but then again, she had set out to quickly cover her tracks in the first place.

Still in his grovelling stance, he crept toward one of her shoes, no doubt about to kiss it. But that's the last thing she wanted. Some creep's slobber on her favorite sneakers. Before he could reach her right foot, she lifted it over the pathetic bug.

Stacey lowered her foot slowly, not necessarily out of cruelty but more to prolong this orgasm of absolute power. She needed to end this but wanted to be a goddess for just a few seconds longer.

When she felt her sneaker sole make contact with tiny man's back and felt him jolt in panic, she bit her lip in anticipation and pressed down further to make sure the slippery worm couldn't slip away.

The little man was no doubt screaming but the screams fell on deaf ears. Not only could Stacey not hear his cries over the music, blood was rushing to her head because of this ultimate experience. She was a goddess and she was purging the wicked little beings from this world.

She felt his body finally give in to her pressure and blood sprayed in all directions around her right foot. Even her left sneaker became speckled on the white rubber wall, but Stacey didn't care. She was on Mt. Olympus with the rest of the gods and goddesses.

She slowly snapped out of the dream and twisted her foot back and forth. Can't have the cleaning crew coming across what resembles a tiny body.

But her trance was also broken by something else. When she had squashed the tiny pervert, cubes of ice had slid onto the floor around her, some bumping and coming to a stop at her shoes. She looked down at the ice and watched for a second how the blood began to mix with the water of the rapidly-melting cube.

Stacey looked up and to her left at a spilled drink and a girl staring at her with a look of both surprise and horror. It was the very same girl who she rolled her eyes about while waiting in line; the one who couldn't tell the difference between techno and trance.

Stacey didn't know how much the girl saw but it was apparent that it was enough to question what she had witnessed. She and the girl stared at each other and Stacey gauged how drunk or high the girl might be and whether she could just leave this as a hallucination but the girl seemed too lucid to let this go.

The girl slipped out of the crowd, trying not to panic. Stacey kept a sharp eye on her, hoping she would go for the back exit near the bathrooms and away from where everyone was facing.

She was in luck. As soon as the girl got out of the thick of the crowd, she turned toward the less densely packed back of the club.

Stacey gave the tiny puddle of mush one more twist for good measure and made her way out of the crowd hoping to cut the girl off. She almost slipped a few times as her right shoe was a bit slick but she maintained her balance. She did not drink to get drunk, only to loosen up a bit. Besides, the task at hand required focus, lest she end up on trial for murder.

Stacey had been going to raves for years and was an expert at navigating a crowd. She slipped toward the back of the room with alarming speed and was able to cut the girl off before entering the hallway with the bathrooms and back exit. She pretended to stumble into the girl and almost knocked her off of her cork wedges. The girl missed the hallway and found herself blocked from the hallway between Stacey and the back wall.

"I'm sorry, I'm such a klutz," Stacey said. "I had a few too many" she lied. "Are you leaving so soon? The show just started."

The girl was obviously still shaken by what she saw and even more confused and scared.

"No. Yeah. I gotta run. I don't even like Techno. I... gotta thing tomorrow." The girl tried to slide by Stacey but she blocked her path. Even with cork wedges, the girl was a good 4 inches shorter than Stacey.

"Let me buy you a drink," Stacey said, toying with the idea of getting the girl drunk and convince her that what she saw was just the effects of too much cheap vodka.

"No I gotta... I have to... Please. I didn't see anything. I don't even know what I saw. Or how you..."

"Those are nice shoes. Where did you get them?" Stacey was trying to distract the girl while she whipped out her device. Ditzy girls love talking about their shoes but the nervous girl only looked down at her shoes for a few seconds and went back to stammering.

"Please, I didn't see anything. I won't say a word!"

Stacey had her device at the ready and with her impeccable timing, the track was in the middle of the buildup and the strobe lights started flashing.

"I know you won't," said Stacey and clicked the button.

Chloe was thrown into a dark alien world. This night was getting crazier by the minute. First she had witnessed an impossibly tiny man squashed like a grape, and now she was teleported into another realm entirely. She could still hear the music thumping so she must be somewhere near the club. Before her was an impossibly tall black wall that looked like rubber until about 10 feet up and seemed to stretch forever in all directions. The rubber wall was marked all over with gray streaks.

Confused, she turned around and all of her questions were answered and replaced with more questions. Her heart skipped a beat and her blood went ice cold. Before here, as if right out of a fairy tale, were purple and white bus-sized sneakers. One of the sneakers began to tap its toe with the beat and that's when Chloe realized just how bleak her situation was. She looked beyond the pale legs in front of her and saw dozens of similar titanic beings jumping and swaying, but they looked so far away, like a moving mountain range.

She turned her attention back to the shoes in front of her and saw that the white walls of the sneaker were flecked with brown or red paint and every time the giant before her tapped her foot, she got a glimpse of more of the paint on the sole of the toe. Images of the tiny man she had seen minutes before flashed in her mind and she became sick to her stomach.

Was it her turn to be mercilessly squashed now? Chloe felt a panic attack coming on and wanted to curl up in a ball and wait for this nightmare to end. But she shook her head and took a deep breath. She had to survive, however impossible that may seem.

She knew that the giant woman before her was waiting for her to look up, likely so she could savor the fear in her eyes, but Chloe would give her no satisfaction. She immediately bolted to her right, running as fast as her now pea-sized cork wedges would take her. If she could only make it around the corner, she could sprint across the hallway and slip under the back-door to freedom.

Chloe was making excellent headway. Her heart was pounding louder than the bass and the hundreds of massive stomping feet on the dance floor. She couldn't believe it. She was going to escape and outrun an actual giant. As she was about to take the corner, she hit a purple and white wall that wasn't there a second ago.

She sat up, having the wind knocked out of her, and wiped her now bloody nose. Blocking her path was the giant woman's left foot. Chloe did not hesitate to get back on her feet. There was still some wiggle room between her toe and the rubber baseboard, but as if the giant woman could read her mind, she slid her shoe forward so the toe sealed Chloe's only escape route.

It was time for plan B. Chloe whipped around and started running along the wall in the other direction toward the dark corner of the room. Perhaps there would be a crack or crevice she could slip into to escape. She grimly expected to run directly into another stomping purple sneaker but this time, the giantess calmly pivoted her foot against the rubber of the wall and slowly slid the toe of her sole against the rubber, making a shrill squeak sound.

The way was one again shut as Chloe slowly came to a stop. It was time to face the music. She was a varsity sprinter in college and could virtually run all night but the giant woman had made her point that she had the upper hand, or rather, foot.

Defeated, Chloe slammed her back against the rubber wall and slid to the floor with her knees to her chest. Maybe she wouldn't end up like the tiny man. Maybe the woman who insisted on teasing her would simply leave her alone to fend for herself.

As if resigning her fate to the woman, she finally looked up. Surprisingly, the massive face that met hers was neither smirking nor laughing. The woman looked almost sympathetic. She brushed aside some of her red hair as she looked down so it wouldn't be in her face. Chloe finally gave this woman her attention as what she would say next was probably going to seal her fate.

"If it's any consolation, this guy," she lifted her right shoe to the side to reveal her now brownish red stained diamond-shaped treads, "was a real scumbag and deserved it."

Chloe waited with bated breath on any hint of what this meant for her.

"You, on the other hand, were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. And I want you to know that it's not personal. I just can't have you talking to the cops."

I won't talk, Chloe screamed in her head over and over. She just wanted to live. If only this giant lady knew that she would keep this secret for the rest of her days if it meant she would live.

"I'll make it quick. Are you ready?"

Chloe was the opposite of ready. Her fight or flight reflex was at max and adrenaline rushed through her brain. She was going to show this giant that she was still the master of her fate. She fished in her pocket for her hair-tie and secured her long blonde hair in a ponytail. She unbuckled her cork wedges and kicked them at the giantess, one of them managing to strike one of her massive pale shins. It had no effect on the woman but that was not the point. They would only slow Chloe down.

She had taken gold in her college's conference in sprinting and now she was going to be competing one more time, this time for her life. There was only one way to go now, forward. She took a sprinter's stance and pressed her bare foot against the rubber baseboard, relieved that it had a slight springiness to it. She would need any and every advantage she could get.

The giantess must have taken the tiny shoe attack as a signal that she was ready to accept her fate as she raised her mammoth sneaker clad foot high into the air right over Chloe.

Chloe focused on the diamond treads above her, trying to ignore the reason why the front of the sole was a slightly different color. She had to concentrate and time this just right. If she took off too soon, the giant would readjust her stomp. If she was too late, it would be a very short sprint.

The sneaker seemed to hang there forever; it was a thousand times worse than waiting for a starting pistol. So much for making it quick, she thought. And with that thought, the sneaker began it's quick descend and Chloe was off.

It all happened in a fraction of a second but Chloe knew that she had barely cleared the heel of the shoe and the burst of air from the booming stomp gave her a tailwind. Every little bit counts, she thought. As she was racing past the other giant sneaker, she figured she only had one or two seconds before the woman realized that she had given her the slip. She imagined it was like stepping on a crunchy-looking leaf only to find out that it wasn't crunchy at all and questioning whether you actually even stepped on it.

She snapped back to the task at hand, surviving. She made the unconscious decision to veer deeper into the dance floor. What she was doing was insane. She narrowly escaped a giant person's stomp only to be surrounded by a hundred more. But she figured that she'd take her chance with the unaware giants over the one who deliberately wanted to kill her, any day.

Chloe had never run faster in her whole life, considering her size. Her adrenaline levels were through the roof and she didn't know the meaning of tired. She weaved in and out of the way of massive shoes that would mercilessly mash her to pulp if she took one misstep. Although she was absolutely terrified, the adrenaline rush was like no other. It was like running with the bulls, something she always wanted to do, but about a thousand times more dangerous.

Even the music was pumping her up. She didn't really like the music at first but it really got her blood pumping in this situation. It also helped her time when and where people would step, giving her a bit of help on her split decision route through the massive dance floor. She had a few close calls and even ran under the arch of a stiletto heel.

She just had to watch out for those not dancing to the beat, perhaps those who were simply going to get a drink.

As though fate had heard her thoughts, her lucky streak came to a screeching halt when she was blindsided by a bright red open-toed pump. The impact was immense and Chloe hit the floor with a thud and slid as her body squeaked to a stop, giving her a friction burn to remember. She couldn't believe she was still alive and figured she had only suffered a few broken ribs.

She tried to get up but it seemed impossible. That's when she looked down to see what was wrong. Her leg past her knee was horribly bent in the wrong direction. It was only then that the pain hit her and she couldn't help but let out a blood-curdling scream. She tried bending it back but almost passed out from the pain.

She was screwed. Although she seemed to have eluded the killer woman, she was now disabled surrounded by unaware giants.

Chloe was left with one last option, however fruitless it seemed.

"Help!" she cried out. No one could hear her. Even without the head-splitting music, she would have been hard to hear with her tiny lungs. "Help!" she screamed and half expected to be scooped up to safety by the giant in loafers, or the giantess in black leather flats, both of whom danced lazily to the now more mellow tune that was being played.

The black leather flats were getting dangerously close as the giant woman who wore them unconsciously drifted in Chloe's direction. Every other step seemed to be a few inches closer, like a deadly tide moving in. Chloe had to keep moving. Despite here harrowing injuries, she was still determined to survive the night. All deals were off, she thought, she was definitely going to "talk to the cops," as the woman put it, when she got out of here.

With that dreadful reminder, Chloe snapped her head back toward the back of the club, looking for any sign of her pursuer. The mellowed tune made the club-goers a bit more docile and she could see farther and clearer. That's when she noticed a flash of purple and white a few rows back. The unmistakable converse shoes were traversing the dance floor. She watched as one batted a crumpled napkin to the side, no doubt looking for someone underneath it.

Chloe again tried to stand up but her injured leg made it impossible. She was in so much pain but the adrenaline kept her from passing out. She would have to crawl, but to where? She needed a plan. She couldn't just keep going forward. The front of the club was super packed and she wondered if another banging track, which was sure to come, would make her body explode, being so close to the speakers.

She had to get the attention of someone who wouldn't squash her, accidental or otherwise. She could no longer leap onto someone's foot and alert them. She should have done that before being hit by the giant red bus-sized pump. She needed someone standing still. That's when the idea hit her. The bar!

Chloe began clawing at the ground and crawling like her life depended on it. She glanced over her shoulder and to her horror, the purple Converses had gained half the previous distance.

She slowly and painfully made her way toward the towering bar. The cliff side of the counter was almost obscured by the legs of giants waiting on their drinks and Chloe did not have time to speculate on which giant was a good person. She needed to get noticed and picked up pronto and that meant someone wearing sandals with thin soles so she could reach.

Much to her fortune, there was a pair of gold gladiator sandals waiting at the base of the bar. The right foot was vertical as the giantess scrunched her brown toes waiting for her drink. With her knees and stomach bruised and scratched from the crawl to the bar, Chloe approached the left side of the left sandal hesitantly. Hopefully this person isn't jumpy and I get squashed by accident, she thought.

As she reached for the oversized pinky toe, she could practically taste freedom. This person would notice her and take her to the police, and she would sing like a little bird, and the red haired woman would go to jail forever. And then scientists would figure out how to make her big again and this nightmare would be over. A thought crept into her mind that those scientists might experiment on her for the rest of her life, but at least she would be alive. She had to think about the more immediate danger.

As she was lost in her dream, she realized that she missed the toe she aimed to tap and that the woman must have gotten her drink and left. Talk about bad timing. Maybe another easy target will take her place, she hoped.

What rolled into view crushed Chloe's dreams like it had tried to crush her body only moments before. Before her, and behind her, as if standing shoulder-length apart was a pair of sockless purple Converse sneakers.

Ever the optimist, Chloe almost convinced herself that these belonged to someone else. After all, they were popular shoes. She owned a red pair herself.

But then again it was rare to find a pair that had bloodstains on the striped white walls.

Chloe had no more energy; she couldn't even scream. She whimpered as the red haired giantess looked down at her like how she might look down at a penny on the ground. She lifted her head and said something to the bar-tender, no doubt getting a drink to justify her presence at the bar. This gave Chloe the idea to try and crawl away but the woman effortlessly and calmly blocked her path.

There was no need for stomping displays of power this time. Chloe had gotten the picture. She was beaten.

***

Stacey had to hand it to the little woman. She was fast. She was sure she had stomped true but something felt off. She had been swift and heavy not only to eliminate any recognition of a body, but also because she promised it would be quick and painless. But the unexpected feeling of emptiness and lack of splatter tipped her off to the speed and prowess of this little lady.

While impressed, she felt worry in the pit of her stomach. She could not let this person get away or be picked up. Her very freedom, and maybe her life, depended on it. It's either her or me, Stacey thought.

She was somewhere out on the vast crowded dance floor and Stacey once again had to go hunting.

She started going in a sweeping pattern starting in the back. She hadn't seen which way the tiny had gone, unfortunately. Her heart skipped a beat as she came upon a crumpled napkin and kicked it to the side but there was no one underneath it. She stomped the napkin not only in frustration, but also just in case the little woman had managed to cling to the inside of it.

Stacey, took a breath, trying not to freak out. She couldn't have gotten far and the dance floor is a death sentence to someone two inches tall. She had to think small. Her only chance of getting out of here is with help and it's really hard to get help from someone lost in the music.

Her new plan meant abandoning her search pattern, but seeing how cunning the little sleuth had been up to now, she was sure she was on the right path.

Stacey let out a sigh of relief as she saw the tiny woman crawling toward the bar. She had no doubt been injured, badly. When she saw she was crawling toward someone's sandal, she became extremely worried, but in a stroke of luck, the sandaled woman grabbed her drink and joined her friend on the dance floor, leaving a gap in the bar.

Stacey quickly and fluidly filled in the gap, cutting off another club-goer. She looked down at the broken woman as the bartender asked for her order, barely audible over the once again pounding bass.

Stacey ordered another Red Bull Vodka. She didn't care about the drink, she was only here to put her mind at ease.

The little broken woman still had a little bit of fight in her but Stacey put any possibility of escape to rest by moving her foot carefully into the path of her crawl. While she felt bad about killing a now-handicapped person, she had to put her out of her misery.

This little lady had almost given her a heart attack but she felt no anger toward her. In a way, they were much alike. They both struggled for survival or freedom tonight, despite Stacey's obvious advantage. This tiny speck of a woman had done the almost impossible and had eluded someone hundreds of times her size and was a worthy adversary in Stacey's eyes. They both knew what was coming and the tiny woman puffed out her chest and although Stacey couldn't hear it, she knew it was her last battle cry.

The promise of quick and painless still stood and she raised her sneaker and quickly and powerfully stomped down.

The floor and the side of the bar now had a fresh splattered coating, but due to the already black color, the splatter looked like any other stain from a spilled fruity drink. The only glaring evidence of the unfortunate woman was a red splotch on the white tennis shoe of the man on Stacey's left and on the side of the foot of a woman wearing flip flops. Only the woman noticed and she pinched a napkin from the bar and wiped what she thought was cherry sauce off the side of her foot.

Stacey ground the remains of the brave little woman under her sneaker and looked around for any witnesses. It seemed she was once again in the clear. Satisfied, she dropped a few napkins on the floor and mopped up the mess with her shoe.

To Stacey's surprise, she already had her drink in hand and had drunk half of it already. She did not give herself time to savor this kill like she had the first, and her subconscious was obviously making up for it.

As she made her way back to the dance floor, she was weighed down by a nagging feeling. She had rid the world of a scumbag and potential rapist, and had tied up loose ends by eliminating a nosy witness. She was free to dance the night away but found she could no longer get back into the groove.

The music was no longer giving her that blissful high it had when the night began. It had been replaced  with the desire for power and the thrill of almost getting caught.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, as Stacey usually only had one drink when she went out dancing. But she began to suspect that the only way to satisfy herself now was in her purse and one click and a flash away.

Stacey was once again dancing to the infectious rhythm, but her mind was somewhere else. The loud kick of the beat was her booming footsteps, the fast thumping bass was the heartbeat of her prey. When both ceased for the bridge or interlude for each track, she was grinding her victim into the floor. The thought of sheer power she held made her tremble.

It should have been enough to know that she was the most powerful person in the building. That she could end the life of anyone around her with the stamp of her foot. That she could pick anyone on a whim and take everything from them. She reveled in the fact that this made her a literal goddess, but it was not enough to just know this. She had to feel it physically.

Stacey looked around at the people around her. She could shrink him, or him, or her. There were plenty of potential sacrifices to Goddess Stacey all around her, all completely oblivious to their conceivable mortality. But Stacey was not a cold-blooded killer. Both kills tonight had been out of sheer necessity. But a goddess is unburdened by such worries, Stacey thought as she took a sip of her second, or was it third drink. A goddess takes lives like a girl picks flowers.

Regardless of who would experience her divine intervention next, Stacey wanted to feel everything. Her shoes proved to be excellent tools for dealing with shrunken people but they dulled her sense of touch. She walked to the back wall of the club where she had trapped the tiny girl minutes ago and slipped her Converses off. As she slid the shoes into the dark corner, she impressed herself at how well she color coordinated her shoe color to her glossy perfectly painted purple toenails.

She was less than impressed, however, by the smell that wafted up from her pale bare feet. She had worked up a sweat on the dance floor and she had caught a hint of that corn chip smell that usually accompanied her sneakers without socks. Oh well, Stacey thought, goddesses get stinky feet too. She normally felt self conscious about such a thing but she couldn't care less about the opinions of insignificant bugs.

Stacey padded her way barefoot back to the dance floor. If she could feel the bass pulsing through her sneakers before, she felt it ten times more now. Her excitement amplified her sense of touch and she instantly got goosebumps from head to toe. The DJs were pumping out banger after banger, churning the dance floor into a sea of chaos. Taking out her device, Goddess Stacey was going to add a little chaos of her own.

She started with a shady guy who was obviously dealing drugs. She waited for him to conclude his business with his latest client and then zap! Not even giving him a chance to run, she pinned him down and shuddered at the feeling of him squirming under her bare sole. He almost slipped away a few times, but each time, Stacey increased the pressure. She held him there until she couldn't take it anymore and shifted her weight as the tiny drug dealer popped like a grape.

As she twisted her foot back and forth to liquidate any evidence, someone approached Stacey and was standing right in front of her. Another witness to take care of, no doubt. Stacey looked up at a confused boy holding out a $100 bill. This was obviously the dealer's "spot" in the club. The boy was already on something but wanted to enhance his experience. Stacey was about to give him an experience he would never forget.

Shrugging, Stacey took the money from the boy and pocketed it. Then she reached into her purse and took out her handy device and shrunk the delirious boy down to bug size. She looked down expecting him to be absolutely freaking out about his new perspective on life, but to her surprise, he was smiling. He was looking up at the giants in awe and spinning around on the floor. Whatever he had taken before was some pretty potent stuff.

The tiny boy started dancing as if he were still big and seemed to be unfazed by the giant stomping deadly shoes around him. Stacey danced almost directly over him, enjoying the music but also keeping a watchful eye on the strung-out boy. She had to wrangle him a few times with the side of her foot to ensure that he stayed within stomping distance and didn't wander off. She wanted to at least give him his money's worth.

After a while there came a lull in the song, he looked up at her, smiled, and waved. Stacey gave him a warm smile and waggled her fingers down at him and said "Bye-bye." She pivoted her foot with her heel on the ground and the ball over him. Of course, he did not run. Stacey snapped her foot down, squashing the tiny druggy quickly and painlessly.

At this point, the floor started to get a bit slippery. Stacey went to go fetch some napkins from the bar for her feet. On we way back, she was blinded by a flash. Two duck-faced blondes had taken a selfie and had turned their flash on. Stacey responded to this rude lack of self-awareness by flashing them back and they were soon tiny and screaming, their duck-pursed lips now replaced with mouths agape at their new predicament.

Stacey toyed with the girls. Whenever one would almost get away, she'd stomp her foot down right in their path and they'd run the other way. They ran completely unaware of one another and to Stacey it was kind of like juggling. After a while, the tiny ditz's ran into one another and laid sprawled out on the floor for a few seconds. Stacey couldn't help but laugh at their comical clumsiness in their tiny high-heeled shoes. They then huddled and cowered as she raised her blood-stained barefoot over them and lowered it slowly.

She didn't think she'd be able to squish two people at once but having a size eleven foot has its advantages. Two pairs of hands fighting her fatal sole gave Stacey chills up and down her spine. It was better than any massage she could imagine. She pressed down further as she could feel the girls' screaming faces vibrating her soft flesh. She wanted to hold onto this feeling forever but it began to tickle and she stepped down, splattering the two obnoxious girls. Some of their remains squirted onto the shoes of nearby dancers but no one noticed.

Stacey continued to clean up the club. She chased a belligerent frat boy into the boot-fall of the girl he was harassing. She watched a tall girl in platform heels shove a smaller girl to take her spot. She was promptly shoved with a massive toe to get a taste of her own medicine and then crushed to a pulp. One guy got squashed just for wearing Crocs with socks. Stacey was unstoppable. If someone did something she didn't approve of, she dealt with them brutally. Her divine wrath was unmatched.

Stacey scanned the crowd for her next victim to smite when she felt a horrible crushing pain in her foot. She yelped and looked directly at the source of her agony: a boy had accidentally stepped on her toes while he was dancing. When he saw the err of his ways, he began to apologize profusely, but saw from Stacey's rapidly reddening face that there was no soothing the fiery redhead.

Stacey resisted the urge to scream and call the boy a dumb shit. She had taken her shoes off to feel bones crack, just not her own. It had been an accident, but she was in a blind rage not only from her still throbbing toes but also because of this little twerp's hubris. This little accident almost pulled her out of her fantasy of being a goddess, a nasty reminder that she wasn't truly invincible. It also gave her a tiny taste of what she was doing to others and she didn't like that one bit. This blasphemy would not go unpunished.

The boy saw the blood on her toes and went white. Little did he know it wasn't her blood. He asked again if she was okay and asked if he needed to take her to the hospital. Without taking her eyes off him, Stacey calmly reached into her purse. In the chaos of the banging track and the encroaching wee hours of the morning, no one noticed the reduction of one more person.

***

Ryan felt awful. He felt terrible about stepping on this pretty girl's toes. He would definitely be more careful in the future. He felt physically awful as well, almost passing out from the dizziness and feeling of vertigo. The girl he was apologizing to was replaced with a massive pair of bare feet. Not knowing what to think, he at least expected to hear other club-goers screaming and maybe the sound of the roof destroyed, but that's when he realized what was really going on.

All around him were similarly sized giants, impossibly massive human beings. He stared directly at the bare feet before him for a few seconds, too afraid to move but also admiring every last detail. His mind was racing and although he was in grave danger, he always had an edge for curiosity.

He had obviously hurt this girl pretty bad, he thought, as he looked at the blood beginning to dry between all ten of her toes, but he thought that he only stepped on one foot. The left foot began to tap impatiently with the rhythm of the beat, making an audible meaty thudding sound.

He looked up at the gigantic girl and found an unsettling smirk greeting him from on high. She didn't seem to be as injured as her wounds would indicate. That's when he began to realize that perhaps he hadn't even broken the skin. He was not her first victim this night.

The tapping stopped and as though the sky were falling, the massive girl bent down to get a better look at Ryan. Her cold green eyes pierced his very soul as she eyed him. She opened her mouth and one word came out. It was a word that was already on Ryan's mind. Run.

Normally, in a situation like this, if one can even prepare for a situation like this, Ryan would be analyzing the movement of each giant around him and formulating the best possible route to not being a crushed pile of mush. All that went out the window as a literal giantess was now trying to destroy him.

Running as fast as his tiny legs could take him, Ryan knew that it was sheer luck that he was still alive. He had multiple close calls with a red pump and a pair of checkered vans. He was surely a goner when a black rubber sole tread directly upon him only to find himself in the instep of a black platform chunky heel.

No matter how fast he ran, the redhead's bare feet were right behind him, taking slow but deliberately heavy steps. It's as if she was toying with him, whittling him down both physically and psychologically.

Before he knew it, Ryan had reached the side wall of the club. This was both good and bad. He was no longer surrounded by stomping feet, but he was now cornered by his pursuer. With his back against the rubber wall, he watched in fright as one by one, each foot curled it's toes, some making a popping sound. He winced, suspecting that his whole skeleton would soon be making that same sound soon. He could see his pulsating reflection in the glossy reflection of the girl's big toe. He looked as scared as he felt.

He tried running along the wall, but a foot slammed down in his path.He tried going the other way, but the same foot blocked him again. This woman was taking care not to leave any leeway for escape between her feet.

Ryan looked left and right, there was nowhere to go, no where to run. He felt helpless, like an insect. In fact, more helpless than an insect as some insects could fly. He wanted to be an entomologist when he was a kid as he loved to study and watch insects. He never thought he would basically be one.

He looked up at the girl, who still wore that smug smirk and caught a wink from her. "End of the line, pipsqueak," she said down to him and extended her hand high above him and lightly touched the wall. She slowly lifted her right foot directly over Ryan and held it there. This is it, thought Ryan. His fate was sealed

***

Stacey had a blast chasing the tiny boy across the dance floor. She made sure to stay right on his tail the whole time, careful not to crush him yet. She even thought about bellowing out "Fee Fi Fo Fum," but decided against it, thinking it would be too cheesy. After all, she was not some storybook giant, she was a goddess and she had to act the part.

All good things must come to an end though, as the boy came to a halt at the wall. She thought about letting him slip by her and repeat the chase in the other direction, but she had only been so lucky that no one noticed the chase in the first place. She also didn't know if the little guy had it in him to sprint another eight or so football field lengths, to him. She would break him in other ways.

She blocked several escape attempts and didn't spread her feet too far apart. She had learned from the tiny girl fiasco earlier in the night. When the little thing looked up at her, she playfully gave him a wink and said "End of the line, pipsqueak."

She braced herself against the wall with her hand, maintaining her balance. She wanted to step on him but not crush him yet. Before her slow descending foot could reach his tiny soft head, she felt his hands trying to stave off her soft but deadly sole. That's kinda cute, Stacey thought, he thinks he can just push me away and save his life. She increased pressure and felt the little guy drop to his knees still holding up her foot. She pretended to strain a bit and took off some of the weight, causing the little guy to stand again.

Feigning defeat, Stacey took her foot off the boy and put her hands on her hips in a pretend pout. The bug at her feet no doubt was surprised and now had renewed hope of escape. Now was the perfect time to pull the rug out from underneath him. Stacey quickly swiped him from behind with her big toe and he fell right on his back. Before he could get up, she placed her foot back on him with his face protruding out the side.

This time, Stacey didn't give an inch. She wanted to see the look on his face when it dawned on him that he was not invincible after all. A goddess should be able to crush hope as easily as crushing people. The look of confusion and fear let her know that she had achieved her goal and she began to press down until she could feel the warm vibration of his screaming diaphragm.

She decided to tease him a bit longer before the crushing finale and let him get to his feet, much slower now that he had some light injuries. After he staggered away a few inches, she stamped her foot down again lightly and dragged him across the floor through a puddle of someone's spilled drink, back to square one right beneath her.

Stacey began stamping on him to the beat, not enough to kill him, but enough to leave some nasty bruises and crack a few ribs. You don't step on Goddess Stacey, she thought, Goddess Stacey steps on you. His clothes were wet with the spilled alcohol and it started to rub some of the dried blood off of her bare foot, turning his light gray shirt a faded crimson color.

"It's crunch time," Stacey said as she lifted her foot for the crushing blow, but something stopped her from ending the life of this tiny person. The rubbed-off blood from her foot had accentuated the design on the tiny boy's shirt. It was the logo for the DJs playing tonight. Stacey knew because she was wearing the exact same shirt, but in black. This little person had come out tonight to enjoy the music, much like she had.

She knew that she should crush first and ask questions later, but after a few moments of hovering her foot over the doomed little guy, she brought it down right beside him. She gingerly scooped him up in her hand but help him firmly in her fist with his head and shoulders sticking out.

The little thing was beaten and bruised pretty badly but was still conscious. "Hey little dude," Stacey said to get his attention. She grabbed the collar of her DJ shirt and shook it, flashing the logo. "Nice shirt. They're great aren't they?" The tiny captive looked defeated and downtrodden, and couldn't even look Stacey in the eye, but slowly nodded. No doubt, he thought this was yet another tease before his execution.

"Listen. I should really squish you," Stacey said in a sincere tone, "but I'd hate for you to miss the rest of the show. I'll wait until they're done, deal?"

She didn't wait for a reply and instantly turned to the stage and continued to dance and sway to the music. She kept her new little friend in her hand the whole time and even raised him up into the air for a few moments. She was not worried about witnesses in this case as someone would just assume she was a weirdo who brought an action figure to a show.

Eventually the DJs played their last track and it was a banging tune; the perfect way to end the evening. They said goodnight and everyone cheered and panted from the night of physical exertion. Stacey wiped the sweat from her forehead with her free hand.

"Did you like that?"

The little guy was a bit more lucid now, although probably very dizzy after being shaken around for a half hour. He nodded his head and gave Stacey his best pitiful puppy dog eyes.

"Awwww, don't give me that look," she cooed quietly, getting used to the lack of pounding bass. "A deal's a deal. Let's find a private place to squish you." As if on cue, the house lights came on and the bouncers started ushering people out, nicely at first, but becoming gradually forceful as peopled dawdled.

Stacey looked toward the restrooms but the janitor sign was blocking the hallway as the cleanup crew got to work immediately. She covertly unzipped her purse and dropped the tiny guy in, making sure no one saw what she had discarded. "I'll get back to you, just hang out for a bit."

She slapped her forehead and opened her purse back up and retrieved her device and pushed it snugly into her pocket. She then checked to make sure her guest was still in the bag before zipping it back up.

Stacey padded on dirty bare feet to the corner to retrieve her discarded converses and got a better look at them. It would take some scrubbing and some detergent, but she could probably get all of the blood off. She wasn't about to put them back on just yet though. Or else she'd have to clean the inside as well.

She grimaced at the sweaty smell emanating from them. They were definitely going to need some special treatment. She walked across the now barren dance floor and glanced among the strewn trash at the dozen dark red splotches on the floor. Goddess Stacey had blessed this place tonight. She politely said good night to the staff and with her dirty shoes in tow and with a tiny prisoner, she walked off into the night.

It was a few hours before dawn and a group of people were standing outside a bar that had since had its last call. They smoked and talked, oblivious to the goddess high above them.

Stacey, with one eye closed, hovered her bare foot over them and slowly brought it down to cover the whole group. However, there was no scream and no crunch. She was on the balcony of her hotel suite overlooking downtown with her foot extended through the rails.

She thought about going down there and squishing the people for real, but decided against it as she had just washed her feet off with a hot towel, one of her favorite feelings, second only to exercising her power on tiny individuals. In the open city, it was also a bit more risky as she couldn't tell if anyone was watching. The little group far below were safe tonight.

A car cruised by and she moved her foot, wondering what it would feel like to crush a vehicle, if it would crumple like a can or explode into a thousand pieces.
She'd probably need her shoes for a task like that as metal was more prone to give her a nasty cut than tiny bones and flesh.

Stacey glanced at her bloodstained Converses and decided that she would preserve them, as a kind of souvenir to remind her of how she came to be Goddess Stacey.

Then she remembered her other souvenir, nestled snugly inside her purse. She tip-toed over to the chair where it was hung and slowly lifted it off the chair back and gingerly lowered it to the floor so that it tipped gently on its side.

Stacey sat on the floor in front of the purse and splayed her feet out at either side of the opening so that there was only one place to go. The hot towel had gotten all of the dried blood off her feet but they still had a bit of a sweaty smell to them. She very quietly and slowly unzipped the purse and in a soothing sing-song voice said "Come on out, little bug." Nothing happened and Stacey started to think he had escaped or had died. She didn't remember being too rough with her purse during the Uber ride back to the hotel. But then, Ryan emerged from the zippered cavern.

Stacey smiled and curled her finger in a beckoning gesture. "Come here, little man."

Her captive looked around nervously at his new surroundings and was visibly shaken to find himself between the soles of two massive feet, one of which almost murdered him tonight. Stacey saw the fear in his eyes and she wiggled her toes tauntingly.

"Don't worry, I just want to talk. Come closer, sweetie."

He shambled closer in toward the Stacey and as soon as he cleared her heels, she brought her feet together with a meaty thud, blocking the way he had come in. This startled Ryan as he felt the wind from the quick and deadly heels behind him. He spun around and scanned his new massive prison of thighs and calves. He was completely surrounded by a canyon of Stacey's flesh.

"I have some good news. I've decided not to crush you." Stacey waited for any lift in her little guest's spirits but he still looked worried. "...yet," she admitted.

"My name is Goddess Stacey and you belong to me now. I'm sparing you for now because a goddess must be both feared and worshiped."

She didn't have the heart to tell him that after a few hours of sleep, she would very likely be in a less than amicable mood and would probably revoke his stay of execution. The little guy's fate was still up in the air though. His goddess had to sleep on it, as she had a several hour drive to look forward to today.

"I see you're not a religious man. If you were, you'd know to kneel before me," she said sternly, "but I'll let it slide this time." When he complied, she smiled. "That's better."

Stacey reached over her new worshiper and dug into her purse for her phone. When Ryan saw what she had in her hand, he began to tremble in fear.

"Don't worry little man, it's just a phone. Your goddess has to check her messages."

Stacey frowned when her Face ID wouldn't work and was greeted with a message saying her phone would remain locked for twelve more minutes due to multiple failed attempts.

She slowly lowered her temporarily useless phone to look at the trembling little person before her and set it aside. She smiled deviously as she slid her knees out, bringing her feet closer inward until they were on either side of Ryan.

"You have been a very busy, very bad little bug. And you're going to be my entertainment for the next twelve minutes."


The End