Katrina scrolled through her instagram feed. Most of the pictures she saw were from her fellow bodybuilder friends. For the most part, it was the same kind of photos she would see on her feed three months ago: muscular men and women working out, maybe in a plank position or showing off their gains. 

However, there was something extra in each photo that wasn’t present before. Appearing in each photo was a tiny black man or woman that her friends had kidnapped in order to add them to their work out routine. It was like a seek and find for Kristina. She zoomed in on each photo and scanned for where the tinies might be.

One photo of her friend Zelly featured a larger tiny hiding under her armpit, sweat covering his body. His face was more red than black, which really showed how hot it was inside Zelly’s armpit. Another photo showed a tiny being crushed under a five pound weight. The caption written by her friend Matt read, I’m lifting 100 pound weights easy while little Uncle Tom here can’t even push a 5 pounder off him. Not so big and strong now huh! 

Kristina laughed, accidentally injuring one of the tinies down by her left foot polishing her pinkie toe. The photo was too good! She commented under how pathetic the tiny looked, calling him all sorts of foul names. The other comments were just as vulgar, sparing no insult towards the tiny slave. Every now and then, there would be a commenter trying to claim the moral high ground by saying how wrong it was to treat people like that. But these things aren’t people, their pets at best now. 

“You guys see that now, right?” Kristina put her phone away and redirected her attention to humiliating the tinies polishing her toes. There was a slave to each toe, although one looked like he had been hurt pretty badly. They weren’t given brushes, only a small bowl of red nail polish behind them. They had to stick their hands in and smear the polish onto her toe nail themself. If they didn’t do a flawless job, Kristina promised to kill them slowly rather than quick. 

“You understand that you’re not people anymore. That’s why you’re all so eager to submit to my lovely toes.” She got giddy, giggling hard to herself. “I just LOVE how I made you slaves again, and now you have to answer my every demand or face the consequences. How many of you have I killed so far? How many died just today? You don’t have a chance at returning to normal size. Us people get to be tall. Small things like you are called bugs, making you bugs and not people.”

Kristina could see that her slaves were slowing down. Her words were obviously having an effect on their morale. If they started messing up, Kristina would have an excuse to kill some of them without the others thinking they didn’t have a chance of survival— because then they might give up all together. 

“You know the first nigger I’ve ever killed was a little black girl. I saw her, but I didn’t want to move out of the way. She couldn’t have been older than ten. I stepped on her right on the sidewalk of her own house. Then I laughed and laughed as I picked my foot up and slammed it back down on her remains over and over again. Then I went inside her house and killed the rest of her family.”

“I did the same thing to the family next door too, except I played more with them. I kidnapped their son, who couldn’t be older than a toddler, maybe three at the oldest, and shoved him in my mouth. I chewed him right away, but pretended that he was still alive. I made the mother and father eat up the remains of the little girl that was still stuck to the bottom of my shoe. And then when they were finished, I pursed my lips over the mother and spit out the remains of her son directly over her. Then I crushed her husband and left her there to live the rest of her short pathetic life in agony. I can still hear her screams when I touch myself.” Kristina gently rubbed her finger over her panties. “Now that was something special. I could never recreate that moment. Or should I say it lost it’s specialness after the next 15 or so families I did it to. It’s been quite some time since I last did it, maybe I should do it again soon. I wonder if I have any little kids left in my purse.”

Kristina’s taunting was yielding the desired effect. The tiny who was hurt by her pinkie was slipping up and getting red polish on her skin. She could punish him there, but she wanted to continue to taunt them before killing them.

 “If you guys are lucky, you might still be alive for the next time I invite my girlfriends over. They’re all body builders like me, so they come over all the time for workouts, and we always try to incorporate you little shits in there too. When we do sit ups, we keep slaves close to our feet or shoes, that way if they get crushed under them we know we’re moving our legs too much. We also tape them on different spots of our punching bag, and see how hard we have to punch or kick for them to splatter. If you’re good, I can show you the blood stains we keep on there.”

“And then, after we’re finished the workout, we each split up the remaining tinies and use them to clean up all the sweat from our bodies. We forbid them from spitting less they die, so they have to swallow it. If we don’t have a lot of tinies left after the session, then the remaining tinies usually end up dying from water intoxication. Since your tiny black brains aren’t big enough to understand what that is, it means they died from drinking too much water. We don’t care that they die though, as long as they’re able to clean up all the sweat from in between our toes. Our feet get really sweaty, you see.”

Most of the tinies down by her toes have frozen in place. Kristina thought that they might’ve finally realized that there was no way out of this hell other than death. She debated killing them for stopping, but the situation was turning her on too much. She had to continue their humiliation.

“Why do you all look so scared? I didn’t even tell you some of the worse stuff we do. Once a month, my friend Zelly throws a sex crazy party where you tinies are actually the guest of honor. Before the event, we all go out hunting for more shrunken blacks to capture and make our slaves for the party. We take hundreds back each, and use them for various things. Most of the girls tape you to their dildos before fucking themselves with it. They either drown in pussy juice or get crushed against their pussy lips. Regardless, they never make it out alive. Other’s tape tinies to strap ons before fucking the other girls. The only two things each fucking has in common is that it’s rough and the tinies always die. Me on the other hand, I love placing hundreds of tinies in a bowl and crushing them with a grinder until there's nothing recognizable in the bowl besides their blood mixing together. Essentially, I turn black into red! Then I use it as a lube for me and the other girls so our toys go in easier.”

The tinies at Kristina’s feet had their souls broken. Hearing the words of the giantess sent their minds sprawling. They had heard stories before from some tinies who managed to escape their captors, but never anything this awful or cruel. They never thought that there would be a group of people actively hunting down tinies and killing them, especially not in the way Kristina had just described. 

The tiny at Kristina’s pinkie stood frozen, leaning against her nail, hands submerged in the red polish. His hands slipped, causing him to smudge the polish more onto Kristina’s skin. Kristina finally saw her chance and took it, feeling the other’s had had enough of her taunting.

“What did I say would happen to you if you made a mistake or got polish on my toes?” Kristina yelled.

The tiny cowered in fear. He begged her not to kill him. “It was a mistake, please don’t hurt me!” He crunched himself into a ball, wishing to just find a tight place to hide in and stay there.

Kristina didn’t care about his cries. She reached her hand down and picked him up. He fumbled in her grip, trying to escape but to to avail. Kristina held him firmly in place and pressed him into her pinkie toe. 

The pinkie toe’s nail was thin and curved down slightly against the toe, but it was sharp enough to cut into the tiny’s skin without being pressed too much into it. The tiny looked towards his fellow captives, tears welling in his eyes. “Please help me! Pull me out!” He begged, but the others just stood there and watched. They didn’t want to end up like him. 

Kristina pressed the tiny further into her toe nail. Bright red blood seeped out the small cut in his neck. The tiny whimpered and cried, but nothing would save him from what came next. Kristina swiped his body across her nail like she was swiping a credit card. There was a clean cut that dug half way through his neck. Kristina flicked her hand and let him fall over further down the table. 

The tiny grabbed at his neck and tried to stop the bleeding. Try as he might, the cut was too deep. He was choking on his own blood despite the fact that it was gushing out of him. He uncontrollably spasmed on the table. At that moment he yearned for the quick death he was promised earlier for a job well down. Instead, he died slowly and painfully. It was a full minute before the light in his eye finally dwindled away. The other slaves didn’t watch any longer. They got back to work rubbing the polish into Kristina’s toes. They didn’t want to suffer the same way he did.

Jordan was the slave who was working on Kristina’s big toe on her right foot. He used to help his nieces paint their toenails when they were little. He wondered what had happened to them. One was living away at college when the shrinking virus hit, but the other was young enough to still be living with his sister. He prayed that they were okay, that someone nice managed to find them and help them before someone like Kristina did. As he rubbed his hands into the nail, he wondered if Kristina did find them before she kidnapped him, and his nieces suffered a cruel end under the same toe he pampered then.  

The middle aged man turned around and dipped his hands back into the red puddle of nail polish. He lifted them out and stared into it. He was always quick to adapt to a new position in life. He lost his home at a young age and became homeless, but was quick to hop back on his feet and secured a job as a bodyguard at a nightclub. Later when his niece was born, he quickly assumed a parenting role to them. Then when he shrunk, he devised a plan to keep him alive for as long as he did, eating small urbs he found and even resorting to eating the occasional bug. Now that he had been kidnapped, he would do whatever it took to survive to see the next moment. 

He walked back to the toe and plopped his hand down by the front of the nail. He started with the back of her toe nail by the cuticles when he started, that way he wouldn’t have to worry about getting his forearms dirty as he worked his way through. He made sure each stroke was even to the last, that way it all appeared like it was done by one big brush. Jordan hated to think this way, but if his toe was done better than the others, he might be the one left alive in the end.

Jordan went back one more time for more polish before finishing the toe. He was surprised that he was able to finish before the others given that his toe was the biggest, but most of them were still frozen with fear. Jordan kneeled down in front of the giant toe, just as he was instructed to do by her when he finished before he began.

Kristina leaned forward. “Done already? That’s faster than any tine has done before you.” She inspected his work. Jordan made sure it was perfect before declaring his termination. There wasn’t any possible reason she would have for killing him. If she still did, it would be due to no fault of his own. 

“Was the punishment I gave the last guy not enough to teach you not to touch my skin with the polish? Do you have a monkey’s brain too?”

Jordan was stunned. He didn’t see a single spot painted red outside of her toe nail. He glanced around the toe and still nothing. Was the giantess making things up just to justify his death to the others? Did he ever have a chance of survival? 

“Having trouble seeing it? I guess you have monkey eyes too.” She lowered her finger and pointed at a spot just left of her cuticle. He saw it, a spot tinier than Jordan’s own pinkie toe. It was a spot so small that Jordan at his height was unable to see it. Nobody Kristina’s height would notice it either if they weren’t paying close attention to her toes and were specifically looking for it. 

Kristina’s hand began reaching for him. Jordan screamed. He would not die there today. He tried to run, even tried to punch the large digit as it closed in on him, but just like the last guy his efforts were in vain. Kristina closed her pointer finger and thumb around the man’s body, pressing his arms into his side. Jordan kicked his legs, but his struggle was meaningless.

Kristina brought him over to her big toe toe nail. Like last time, she pressed his neck directly into the toe nail. Unlike her pinkie toe, this nail pointed directly out and was a lot thicker. Likewise, it wasn’t as sharp as the pinkie toe. Kristina swiped Jordan’s body against her nail, but it didn’t deliver the cut she expected. The nail was too blunt, and Jordan’s neck was only slightly sliced. 

A small cut about a centimeter wide was present on Jordan’s neck, but blood didn’t ooze out. Jordan coughed, taking in air with every breath and thankful that he was still alive. 

Kristina grunted. She hated having to do this more than once. These slaves weren’t worth the effort, but she had to teach them a lesson. She immediately pressed Jordan back into her toe nail. He screamed, but it was quickly silenced by her slicing him against her toe nail again. The cut went deeper, but it didn’t draw blood. So she tried again, pressing Jordan into one end of her toe and sliding him to the other. She saw the blood come out, but it wasn’t enough to kill him.

Jordan was in agony. Kristina’s toe nail was rough, and it scratched a bigger hole in him than the pinkie toe did to the other. It was like being rubbed repeatedly against a dull saw, forced to repeat the process until it finally managed to cut deeper into the skin. Kristina didn’t let up on him either. She kept dragging him against her nail, cutting deeper and deeper into his wound with each slice. It was happening slowly, but it was working. It was like chopping a tree with an axe. Krisitna continued to press Jordan harder and harder into her toe nail, slicing faster and faster until eventually Jordan’s blood started pouring out of his neck.

“Yes!” She cheered, dropping him on the table below. His body spasmed, blood shooting out like water to a broken fire hydrant. “That’s what you get for being difficult. Should’ve just died easy like the others.”

Jordan’s death was a lot slower than the other tiny’s. Given the nature of his cut, he was still able to draw breath a lot longer before his pipes were filled with blood. Why was this happening to him? He was choking on his own blood, but not because some mugger got the jump on him in an alleyway somewhere, but because a giant white girl had slit his throat with her toenail. Jordan died a miserable and pathetic death. He did take solace in the thought that his nieces didn’t have to see him like that, blissfully unaware of the fact that his youngest niece did in fact die under the same toe that he spent the last half an hour pampering and the same toe that eventually killed him too.

Kristina was agitated. She couldn’t believe that tiny put up such a fight. She wanted to punish him more for his insolence, but he was already dead. So, she decided to punish the next best thing: the other slaves down by her toes. 

“Okay retards, you’re taking too long. Maybe I should show you how to cover a toenail in red paint.”

The eight remaining tinies were relieved. It sounded like Kristina was going to finish applying the nail polish by herself. After seeing what happened to the men at her pinkie toe and big toe, the rest were terrified of making even the smallest mistake, lest Kristina kill them just as harshly. Some of the tinies began to sit down, thinking they wouldn’t have to work anymore. They couldn’t be more wrong

Kristina reached for and plucked up the slave sitting in front of the second toe on her right foot. She pinched his head between two fingers. The other slaves jumped up in fright. What was she doing? Was she going to use him as a brush? 

Instead of using him as a brush, Kristina placed the wiggling slave directly down on her second toe nail. His body quickly became engulfed in red paint as Kristina’s thumb pressed into his back. The nail was cold and hard, and the acrylic paint only made for a more uncomfortable experience.

Kristina’s thumb pressed down on the slave, subsequently causing him to scream in pain as he felt his body compress into itself. “You brought this upon yourself.” Kristina said. “In your next life try to be a more useful paint brush.” She used all her thumb strength to crush the tiny into her nail. His dark red blood splattered against it, filling up all of the blank spots the slave left before. Kristina flicked the tiny remains off her toe, leaving nothing but the glistening blood on her toe. 

The others instantly realized what she meant when the giant said she was going to paint her nails herself; Kristina was going to use their blood as polish to cover her toes with. They all started to run, but Kristina slammed her fist down in front of them.

“Run and I’ll make your death so much more painful than they need to be. My neighbor’s dog has a problem with diarrhea. If you want to run away so badly, I can tape you to the pills his owner shoves up the dog's ass to medicate him. You’d spend hours in a smelly dog’s anus until it finally poops you out, covering you in stinky wet shit that you’ll drown in.”

The threat in itself was enough to make the seven stop running and freeze. There was no survival. They all chose quick death. 

“Smart.” Kristina said before reaching over and picking up 15 year old Lashanda. Kristina dangled her in the air from her hair. She was only a child, barely half way through high school. She felt like her scalp was going to tear off her head. Kristina swung the girl over her middle toe.

“That last method was too messy, let me try another one.” Kristina placed one hand onto the little girl’s back and chest while she used the other to pinch her head. Then she started to pull.

The little girl screamed. The giant’s white fingers pressed into her dark black skin. Kristina was attempting to rip the girl’s head clean off. Lashanda felt her neck start to tear. Her skin began to rip. She could feel each and every ligament and muscle in her neck snap as the giant pulled her body in two different directions. Lashanda screamed and cried out for her momma for as long as she could under her vocal cords split in two. After that it only took a second before Kristina completely pulled the girl’s head off.

Kristina smiled as the blood poured out from her dislocated body. She turned the poor girl’s body upside down, letting the blood pour onto her middle toe. The blood encased more than just her toenail, leaking well onto her foot. When Kristina emptied the tiny girl dry, she threw the body into her mouth and swallowed it. It would be fun watching the slaves pick her body out of her shit later.

The other slaves still on the table stood in shock at the sight, knowing that it would soon be them.

Kristina moaned. “That was way more effective, but I think I have too much fun splattering you guys against my toes.” With an evil smile, she grabbed another black man from the table. She pushed him against the fourth toe on her right foot. His body felt weaker than the others. He would splat easily, and that’s exactly what he did. He popped without much effort, completely flattening to paste and blood against her toenail. Kristina grabbed another weak looking girl for her pinkie toe. Her screams were quickly silenced by her body splattering against the toe, her life’s meaning being reduced to nothing more than Kristina’s toe nail polish.

It was time for Kristina’s left foot, but she decided she wanted to tease one of the slaves. She grabbed a black man who looked to be in his mid or late 20’s. She pressed him against her second toe’s toenail, watching him squirm and try to wiggle out. Looks like he’s having second thoughts about dying. 

Kristina lowered her ear to him. “No, please don’t kill me.” He begged. 

Kristina curled her bottom lip. “Okay, I won’t kill you.” The man looked relieved, and his squirming stopped. “First though, admit you’re dumb stupid nigger, and you’ve always been a slave, even before you were shrunk.”

The man looked stunned. He could never say such things. He had been called a nigger by white people his entire life. He refused to admit that they were right about him being worthless.

“Nothing? Okay, no problem.” Kristin began pressing her thumb down on him. She heard a crack, he would pop soon.

“Wait!” He yelled. “I’m a dumb stupid nigger. A tar baby that never should’ve been born. You’re so much better than I am. I’m at your mercy!”

Kristina twisted her thumb. “Kiss my toenail and thank your master for giving you the opportunity.”

The slave groaned in pain. Despite that, he lowered his lips to the nail below and planted a kiss on the red acrylic. “Thank you master.” He kissed her toe again. “Thank you for giving this nigger purpose by letting me kiss your toe.” He kissed it again, the red paint covering his lips and sneaking onto his tongue.  He felt his pride leave his body. He felt just as worthless as Krsitina was making him appear. 

“Aww, you’re so very welcome.” Krisitina said before pressing her thumb all the way down. Like the ones before him, he splattered against the tough nail, covering it completely in blood.

The remaining slaves all screamed. One by one, Kristina picked them up and pressed them against a nail. They all squished against it, leaving streams of red blood spilling off her toes and onto the table.

After they were all gone, Kristina picked her phone back up and snapped a picture of her blood soaked toes, the tinies' remains still visible between them. She then uploaded the picture to her instagram, showing it off. The caption read, just used some negros to get the nail looking all pertty. Like for more! She knew the picture would blow up and go viral, it was only a matter of time. 

“Okay, now that I got my picture, you guys can clean the polish off.” Kristina reached into her purse and pulled out another group of 10 tinies. She dropped them down in front of her feet. They had no idea the carnage the slaves before them had suffered, but they would soon learn.

“Start licking the blood and paint off my toes. And when you’re finished you can eat the remains off the table as a reward. I won’t lie to you and say there’s a chance of any of you surviving, just don’t make your master mad and your death won’t have to be painful. 

Krisitina leaned back and her slaves got to work licking the blood off her toes. She could get used to being referred to as a master. It was so empowering. Why hadn’t she thought of that sooner?