The faint giggle of children
seeped through the thick, oaken door of the old house. As the excited cheers of
trick-or-treaters reached living room, the house’s sole occupant turned her
attention from her old spell book, and towards her TV screen. Despite the
importance of Halloween to her fellow witches, the young lady found herself
spending the night in, reading her books. On the screen, she observed her
security camera footage as the children eagerly dug through the large punch
bowl filled with candy on the porch. A child dressed as a knight reached in to
grab a handful of candy. With a slight frown, she reached for the remote,
pressed a button and spoke.
“Two to three pieces max please,
like the sign says!”
The
young woman’s melodic voice interrupted the mad scramble, as the costumed
children stopped to look at the camera in the corner of her porch.
“We’re
sorry miss!” The knight quickly apologized.
“Thank
you and have a happy Halloween! Stay safe!”
She
watched with a smile as the kids excitedly hurried out of view. Return
The
evening sun slowly sank below the horizon, casting longer and longer shadows,
before the glowing orb fully disappeared, plunging the world into darkness.
Outside, streetlights blazed to life as the warm evening glow was replaced with
the dim glare of sodium bulbs. Eventually, the stream of children slowed to a
trickle, then to a sporadic trickle of teenagers. By 11:00 PM, the street was
quiet, save for the distant chirping of crickets.
Setting
down the book, the witch rose to her feet with a wide stretch.
“Time
to go bring in the bowl.” She muttered, before movement on the screen caught
her eye.
The
young man slowly crept up to the door. Clutching an old pillowcase, he had one
goal, the unmonitored candy bowl on the dark house’s porch. He glanced around
the quiet neighborhood before darting for the candy. Throwing her little
handmade sign into the bushes, he lifted the half-filled bowl and began to pour
it into the pillowcase.
Inside
the house, the witch gritted her teeth as she watched the young man dump the
contents of her bowl into the bag. With a frustrated sigh, she waved her hand
in the air.
“Imminuo
ad cimex!”
Outside,
the man dropped to the ground, wracked with an all-consuming tightness. Clutching
at his chest, he looked around the deserted neighborhood as the world seemed to
rise up around him. As he tried to scream, little more than a muffled squeak
could escape from his body. Moments later, he felt himself flying through the
air before the world went black.
A
tremendous thud vibrated the world around the man. His eyes flicked open, and
he began to process the blurry scenery around him. A brown floor stretched off
to a hazy white wall. The source of the thudding, a tremendous black object,
rose and fell rhythmically, filling his view with every drop. Eventually, his
view came into focus. The blurry shapes soon revealed themselves as the floor
and wall of the inside of a house, and as the black wall descended, his stomach
twisted in knots as its true form revealed itself.
“Finally
awake?”
The
voice boomed over him, as he scrambled to identify its source. Rolling onto his
back, his vision was filled with the form of the largest woman he’d ever seen. Long,
pale legs rose into the air like toned pillars, eventually meeting at a vast
black panty, partially obscured by a short skirt. Past that, his eyes kept
turning skyward, past her ornate black outfit and all the way to her icy purple
eyes, brown hair and a large, black, floppy witch hat.
“You’re
lucky I didn’t decide to turn you into a bug or frog. I crush them on the spot.
But you… I think I want to play with you for a bit.”
The
young man scrambled to his feet. “W…what? Who the fuck are you, why did you do
this?”
“Most
call me Hazel, I’m a witch, and you tried to steal from me. So, you’re mine now,
Arthur. Don’t think I don’t know your name. I’ve heard plenty of things about
you from the neighborhood. It’s about time someone put a stop to you.”
Arthur
responded with a middle finger. “Grow me back you oversized bitch!”
Hazel’s
face turned into a scowl. The tiny man recoiled as her massive black boot
lifted before slamming down with a seismic bang. A blast of air buffeted him as
he clutched his ears in fear.
“First
off, do not speak to me that way. You’re the size of a cricket and it’s in your
best interest to not make me any angrier at you then I am. Second, why would I
want to grow you back? You’re a menace to this neighborhood, and I was waiting
for the chance you’d mess up and go for the witch’s house.”
Arthur
opened his mouth to speak, before he felt the ground rocket away from him.
Moments later, his body impacted a soft ceiling, before the object closed
around him.
With
Arthur in hand, Hazel sauntered back to her couch. Tossing the tiny onto her
table, she fell back onto the couch and rested her feet in front of him,
causing the tiny to recoil in fear. He stared up at the enormous boots reaching
high into the sky. The worn sole was lightly sprinkled with dirt and stains he
did not want to think about too much.
“Lick
my boots, worm.”
“N…no”
Arthur stared at the enormous woman silently, defying her word.
A
manicured finger aimed itself at the tiny man, before a powerful bolt of lightning
arced to his body. Arthur screamed in agony as bolts of electricity raced
across his body. He fell to the ground convulsing as the witch’s power blasted
across him.
“I
told you to lick, and I expect you to get it through your stupid little head that
you don’t get any say in what I tell you to do. Geez, did you get the brain of
a bug too?” Hazel groaned as she fired another quick blast of lightning,
further torturing the tiny.
As
the electric shocks waned, Arthur weakly groaned. Struggling to his feet, he
shambled to the rugged rubber sole of her shoe and began to lick the filthy
sole. When he returned to his senses, his pace increased, scrubbing the dirt and
debris clinging to her sole. Dirt and the taste of filthy rubber filled his
mouth as he lavished her shoe sole.
After
a few minutes of dutiful worship, Hazel began to unzip her boots. A pungent
smell filled Arthur’s nose and lungs as she set her stuffy bare feet onto the table.
As he stifled a gag, he turned and tried to run. He was only able to take two
steps before another painful burst of electricity crackled across his body. As
he fell to the ground, he felt his body get sucked into the air and sent flying
into her sweaty foot with a small squelch. Putrid sweat coated his body as she
used telekinesis to rub him across the soles of her feet.
“I
don’t get why the fuck you’re not understanding your position. You. Are. A.
Bug. You cannot escape, and every time you try, you’re just managing to piss me
off even more, which for you, could mean the difference between life and death.
So quit trying to resist and do as you are told!”
The rubbing forced his mouth open,
brushing salty sweat and grime into his mouth. A whole new disgusting palette
of tastes flooded through his body as she forced him to intake more of her
filth. Hazel lazily waved her finger, manipulating the tiny across her large
soles.
Several minutes of this idle
torture went by, rubbing his face raw as the rough patches of her feet scraped
across his body. As Hazel became satisfied with her toy, she released her
telekinetic hold, relaxing as the tiny dutifully carried on worshipping her as
if nothing happened. Sweat, dirt and rough patches slowly began to vanish as
she felt his tiny tongue and limbs working away at soothing her stuffy feet.
An hour passed, and Arthur exhaustedly
clung to her sole, unable to continue. Leaning forward, Hazel snatched a candle
from the table. Lighting it with her finger, she gently swirled it around as
she waited for wax to melt. Grabbing the tiny off of her foot, she undid her
hair, removing the elastic band holding her ponytail together. Grabbing the
tiny and her hair tie she began to wrap the elastic band around his limbs.
Settling the bound tiny on her table, she began to laugh.
“Oh my god you look like a
fucking bug! Like a little worm! Time to make you squirm.”
Picking up the candle, she gently
tilted it, allowing a bead of molten wax to drip from the flame down to the
tiny. As the bead trickled down, Arthur began to scream. Frantically squirming,
his screams turning to painful squeals as the molten wax burned into his skin. As
the hot milky liquid cascaded over his tiny body, he wildly flailed and
squirmed around
“Squirm
worm squirm!”
Another
glob of hot wax splashed down behind him as he squirmed. Despite his attempt to
escape, Hazel simply moved her hand before pouring a steady drizzle of wax
across his body. Lines of hot liquid seared into his skin, causing him to curl
up in pain.
“Please!
Make it stop!” Arthur sobbed.
“Ok!”
Hazel
set the candle down, leaving the battered tiny in a pool of hardening wax. The
witch dug her fingernail into the side of the wax mass, dislodging Arthur from
the splatter. As she picked at it, her finger slipped, scraping across his
burned back. Arthur screamed in agony.
A
cruel smirk grew across Hazel’s face. Wordlessly, she scraped her thumb across
his back, scoring the wounded skin with her sharp nail. Arthur’s attempt to
escape was effortlessly suppressed as she pinned him down. The sharp, manicured
purple nail scratched through the skin, leaving deep, red scrapes into his
wounded back. Chuckling to herself, she gently pressed the tip of her index
finger, letting the oils and sweat of the digit seep into his wounds, stinging
them. Arthur squealed beneath her as she let her finger stick to his bloodied
back before peeling it off, pulling and tearing at damaged flesh as she unstuck
her finger. Wiping the blood off of her finger, she rolled the tiny over onto
his back, prompting another labored groan from the battered tiny.
Arthur
watched as the enormous witch rose into the sky. She smirked as she started
back down at the bruised tiny laying so far down on the coffee table. Unable to
move, he could only watch as his captress cheerfully pondered new ways of
tormenting him.
“Y’know,
another part of me needs some loving.” With her words, she turned around and
flipped up her skirt. Large even to normal people, her vast ass was truly
monumental to the helpless tiny. Her black panties left little to the
imagination, the black strip of fabric barely serving merely to decorate the
vast crack, rather than covering much.
Arthur
sat mesmerized on the table as he watched Hazel’s ass teasing him in the sky.
The enormous cheeks wiggled and undulated high above him, as she teased the
tiny. The witch playfully slapped her ass, laughing as he jumped from the
audible crack.
Satisfied
with her teasing, she slowly began to lower her ass down. Arthur started to
squirm but was stopped by the searing pain of his back. With no way to escape,
he could only watch as his world became blanketed in shadow as the witch began
to sit down.
With
a mighty thud, her ass slammed down on the tiny. Despite the tremendous
pressure forcing the air out of his lungs, the tiny sank into the supple ass
flesh, spared death by the softness of her cheeks.
With
his head just barely inside of her crack, what little air he could get was
tainted by the smell of her ass. With his limited range of motion, he tilted
his head back, revealing the source of the stench. Right above him, partially
covered by the thong was her asshole, the enormous, wrinkled hole taunting him.
Suddenly, his world began to shift as Hazel adjusted her position. As the
pressure lifted, Arthur stretched his legs just in time for her ass to lower
back down. Unbeknownst to Hazel, his legs became jammed in an awkward position.
He screamed for her to stop, but his tiny shouts only tickled her asshole as
she reoriented herself. Settling down, the full weight of her ass crashed down
on her legs. Both of his legs twisted and snapped like twigs, blasting Arthur
with searing pain. She giggled as she felt the tickles on her anus.
“That
feels nice bug! Start worshipping it! I want to feel good!”
With
nothing else to do pinned under the gigantic ass, he began to lick the grimy
folds of her ass. The taste of ass-sweat and other things he didn’t want to
think of filled his mouth as he weakly attempted to clean her. After only a few
minutes, he laid back, panting as he struggled to breathe in the boiling humid
environment. Hazel frowned.
“Get
back to licking my ass.”
Arthur
struggled against his exhaustion and broken legs. Attempting to stay conscious,
he propped himself up with his arms and tried licking again, wiping away some
more grime with his tongue. As another wave of exhaustion overtook him, he collapsed
back down. Groaning, Hazel stood up, her ass sweat briefly adhering him to the
surface before he peeled off and landed back on the table with a painful thud.
She stared down at the battered tiny with his shattered legs bent in unnatural
angles.
“Oh,
guess this ass was just too much for a little bug like you. Come to think of
it, no bug I’ve ever used it on has survived its power. Guess you’re no
exception.”
With a slight frown, Hazel placed
her hand next to the tiny. Arthur stared at it for a brief moment before her
enormous palm slammed into him, sending him flying off of the table into the
air. After a few moments of sailing through the air, Arthur rolled to the
ground, writhing in pain from his broken legs. As his vision doubled, Hazel’s
enormous figure strode into view, appearing more as a goddess than anything
resembling himself. She casually rolled him face up with her boot. Staring down
at the miniscule creature at her feet, she spoke.
“Well,
it seems that you’ve about outlived your usefulness. I could heal you, but that
would require a potion I don’t feel like making, so… I’m done with you.
Goodbye, worm.”
“No…
Wait!!” Arthur hoarsely screamed as his view of the witch was replaced with the
lugged underside of her boot. Dirt and the faded remnants of crushed insects
rained down as the black wall fell from the sky.
Arthur
attempted to squirm out of the way, but the lug of her boot pressed down onto
him, snuffing out his final chance of escape. His screams turned to pained
moans as the unmovable wall began to squeeze life out of him. Unable to move,
Arthur began to quietly sob as the pressure mounted. Moments later, his nose
shattered, blasting him with a new wave of pain. Bones began to twist and
break, and his organs painfully flattened. High above, Hazel bit her lip,
stifling a moan. With a relaxed sigh, she shifted her weight onto her victim. Arthur
burst like a grape, his bones shattered, mushing his organs into a fine slurry.
His cracked skull embedded itself into the treads as her boot liquefied its
victim. Hazel dragged her foot back, smearing a red scuff into the ground with
a wet squeak. His skull dislodged itself and fell beneath the lug, shattering
into a smaller squirt of viscera. She admired her work, a dark crimson line
smeared on the wooden floor, embedded with chunks of viscera and the remains of
his clothes, the only evidence the boy had been to her home.
Grabbing
a wet wipe off of the table, she bent over and carefully wiped the remains off
of her floor and her boot. Stopping for a moment, she looked over the sole of
her shoe, admiring how the tiny’s body crushed and embedded itself between the
lugs of her shoe, before wiping it away, erasing all evidence of the tiny who’s
life she brutally snuffed.
As
she dropped the crimson-soaked wipes into the trash, she sighed delightfully as
she walked to the porch. Looking around the quiet street, she smirked as she
waved her hand, watching as the candy strewn across the porch magically
returned to the bowl, now topped with the abandoned pillowcase. Picking the
bowl up, she returned indoors, locking the door behind her. With another
successful Halloween concluded, the witch set the bowl on the table, covering
up the wax splatters and walked upstairs, eagerly awaiting the coming November.