HEATHER'S WALK THROUGH TOWN
By Bootslave




She closed the front door behind her and walked down the block towards the corner. It was a cool, autumn night and a perfect time to find men wandering about, aimlessly looking for women to serve. In her black leather motorcycle jacket, tight black leather skirt and black leather zippered go-go boots, Heather looked like a biker-chick with one thing on her mind: Crushing men!

She immediately ran into a group of four young men waiting at the bus stop, and commanded them to fall to their knees. The eager slaves obeyed (of course) and even volunteered to lick the soles of her go-go boots. Goddess Heather laughed and merely kicked one of the slaves between the legs hard, making him squirm in pain on the ground. "Fuck you, bug. You get to die first".

She shrunk the man and smiled at his suddenly miniscule body, a pink speck that crawled in one crack of the sidewalk. Goddess Heather dug the toe of her leather boot into the crack, smushing the little soft thing easily. She ran the round leather-covered toe back and forth, smearing the tiny glob into bits of paste. "The rest of you start screaming. I want to hear you scream even when you're shrunk".

Heather sometimes liked to hear her victims scream, but when they were tiny it was so hard to hear their worthless voices. So she figured they could start before they were shrunk.

The men begged and shouted for death, and Goddess Heather planted one of her boot-soles firmly on one of the worm's chests. "You, louder. I want you to scream how much you worship my boot". The slave obeyed, screaming its prayers as loud as it could. Heather rewarded the stupid slave by pressing the sole onto its face next, letting him see the worn leather closely. "Do you like my sole?", she teased.

"Yes! Yes!", the bug shouted, attracting the attention of some women across the street. As she kept pressing her sole down, Heather unzipped one of her leather jacket's pockets and slipped her hand inside. She ran her fingers through the pocketful of tiny, trapped men and decided to have fun with them too.

She looked down at the sole-worshipping slave. "You're nothing compared to my leather boot. You're just a piece of dirt". Goddess Heather slipped a handful of wriggling male bodies out of her jacket pocket and held them all so the worshipper could see them. "See? Here's more squishy bodies..." Heather slowly pressed the palmful of little men against the smooth, black leather shaft of the boot she was using to step on the man's face. She pressed the collection of squirming bodies firmly into the smooth leather, feeling their guts splurt out and form liquid paste. The poor man could see every detail of the red and pink goo oozing from between Heather's fingers as it was smeared into the grain of the leather. The Goddess especially loved rubbing the crushed slave-pulp up and down the boot's zipper.

"I think they liked getting squashed into the zipper," she said as smeared the pulp quietly. The man under her sole screamed louder than ever. The other two slaves crawled on their knees and offered to die next. The two women across the street laughed as they watched from the distance.

Heather shrunk the two men to the side of her. She knelt down and lowered her hand to the ground, commanding the little men to get on her palm, all the while still stepping hard on her sole-worshipper. Once the little things were in her palm, Heather placed both men on top of her boot-toe, the same toe that was pressing hard into the forehead of her begging slave.

From beneath the Goddess' boot, the praying worm could see nothing but the dirty sole. Then Heather slid the sole back so that the middle of the sole was on top of the worm's trembling lips and he could see the front of the toe. He saw the two tiny slaves crawling on top of the toe.

"See your two little friends?...Go on and eat them off of my boot-toe". He squirmed and begged, afraid to obey the young Goddess. Heather slid the toe back until it was over the man's helpless mouth, then pressed the toe between his lips."I guess you'll have to suck them off my toe". She shoved the round toe of her go-go boot into his mouth. The little men managed to scurry upwards enough to escape being sucked, but Heather kept forcing the toe in deeper. The man's mouth was stretched wide-open as it accepted the boot-toe.

Heather just laughed then spit on her toe. The Goddess' saliva splattered half on the swallowing slave's face and half on the leather toe. Both of the tiny men were covered in the spit and wriggled like trapped insects. "Now you can eat them off my toe and swallow my spit, too".

The man moaned and begged, but could barely make a sound with the toe so far deep into his mouth. Heather spit on his face again and laughed, then pinched one of the saliva-covered men off of her boot and held it held it right next to the man's eye. "Look at its guts," she said as she pinched the tiny, wet thing between her two fingers. He saw every detail of the little man's body getting compressed into pink goo, its guts oozing like red jelly amidst the drops of saliva, soaking the tips of the Goddess' fingers.

Heather wiped her wet fingers on the hip of her leather skirt and started to spit again, this time letting her saliva hang. She laughed as she let the spit very slowly drip from her mouth towards the helpless men. The full-size man watched as the saliva descended towards the leather toe. The tiny man who was still stuck in the last bit of spit looked up and saw the big glob coming down. Suddenly, he was completely engulfed!

Heather kept laughing as she used the sleeve of her leather jacket to wipe the disgusting glob of spit off of her boot-toe, crushing the trapped man in the process, mixing its useless guts with her own spit. Then she pulled her boot-toe out of the worm's mouth and saw how wet it was.

She looked again at the cuff of her jacket sleeve. There was bits of goo and spit mushed together, caught in the silver zipper. Heather liked the zippers on her jacket's cuffs and wanted to keep them clean, so she took some time to smear whatever mush was left off on the hip of her leather skirt.

The poor slave begged as he lay there on the ground, ready to be shrunk and die next. Heather simply smiled and stomped her boot back on his worthless face. The slave wriggled, praying to the dirty sole of the go-go boot. It also heard the clunking of boot-heels from across the street, getting louder!

The two women from across the street came over to see what Heather was doing. The first one had long, brown frizzy hair, wore a long flowery skirt and chocolate brown leather fashion boots, with medium heels and gold buckles. The other woman had curly black hair which spilled onto the shoulders of her short-cropped black leather jacket. She also wore tight jeans, tucked into a pair of black leather Frye motorcycle-style boots (with the round gold buckles). The first woman's name was Marla, the second was Andrea.

The slave was praying to the go-go bootsole when Marla's brown leather fashion boot stomped right next to his ear. He twisted his head enough to see the wedge-like heel of the boot, the shiny chocolate leather, and the gold buckle. He wanted to look up and see the rest of the shaft, but Heather's sole was keeping his head pinned down hard.

"Well, you're a lucky little slave," Heather said, "it looks like you've got more boots to worship".

The man was anxious to lick the brown boot, but it was a few inches too far from his tongue. Marla laughed at the helpless slave and slid her boot on its heel a little closer (but not close enough). "I'll bet he never dreamed he'd be praying to two pairs of boots. This must be heaven to the little bug". Andrea just stood back and smiled at the scene.

Heather twisted the sole of her go-go boot firmly into the side of the trapped slave's head, making him moan as he stared at Marla's brown boot. "You wanna see heaven...watch this..." Heather scooped another handful of men out of her leather jacket pocket and showed them to Marla, then bent down to drop the dozens of screaming bodies onto the ground, right next to Marla's boot, inches away from the worshipping slave's head.

Marla took the hint and raised her boot slowly over the squirming mass of tiny men. The throng of slaves looked up at the treaded sole of the fashion boot and prayed. They saw countless bits of inground filth, crushed bodies and splatter-marks all over the sole. This Goddess must have just come from a large squashing party! They wriggled and prayed in the shadow beneath the ridges of the tread.



The slave under Heather's go-go boot watched with excitement as the little pink bodies wriggled on the ground beneath the sole of the beautiful fashion boot. "Let me under there! I want to join them!," the slave dared scream.

Heather punished the worm for its outburst by stomping on its head harder. "Fuck you!" She grabbed another handful out of her jacket pocket and popped them all into her mouth. Heather pressed her cupped hand against her lips, shoving the three dozen or so male bodies into her mouth. She started crunching them into paste between her teeth, then opened her mouth to show the other women the goo all over her tongue. She bent down to let the impudent slave see her open mouth full of half-dead bodies. There were some still alive, but most of them were mushed together. Heather chewed with her mouth open, letting him see the dead slave-goo forming. She laughed and pressed her go-go boot harder again. "Keep looking at her boot! See what she does to those fucking bugs!"

The slave turned his head back to see Marla slowly lowering her sole until she felt the tiny men wriggling underneath. "They're all so soft...", Marla mused as she gently rested her sole on the bodies. Tiny arms and legs twitched beneath the treaded sole. There was some quiet crunching as some of the bodies started flattening.

Heather pressed her go-go boot so hard on the side of the slave's face that the worm shouted in pain. She knelt over the trapped man and pointed with one finger to the slowly crushing mass of male bodies under Marla's sole. "See how they're all getting crushed? Look at these ones..." Heather poked her fingertip into the wriggling pink flesh, giggling at the tiny limbs and oozing pulp. Marla moaned with pleasure at the sensation of all those men mushing together, and started pressing one hand between her legs with passion.

The poor slave was watching all those tiny men getting flattened up close. It was unbearable and he screamed out to be squahsed too. Marla yelped with desire as she lowered her bootsole flat onto the ground, smashing the squirming mound of bodies into a puddle of lumpy goo. The red and pink ooze spread out onto the ground. Heather lovingly ran her fingertips through some of the wet clumps.

Marla, in her passion, finally fell to her knees and touched herself under her long skirt with one hand. When she did, she slid her sole back, leaving a gooey red streak of smashed guts. Heather quickly ran around behind Marla and knelt down to look at the pulp-covered sole of the woman's boot. "Look at all those little dead people!" Heather couldn't control herself and leaned towards the bootsole, licking the newly squashed bodies.

The full-size slave had been forgotten about. As soon as Heather had stepped off of him, he was now free to move. He knew he couldn't run away; the Goddess' would simply shrink him as soon as he tried.

Heather moaned as she ate the squished slave-goo off of Marla's bootsole. Marla, in turn, moaned as she masterbated, occasionally looking down at the confused slave with disinterest.

He decided to get up on his knees and politely ask to be squashed, but before he could even move, Andrea stomped over in her Frye boots and planted HER tan leather sole flatly on his face. "You look like you've overstayed your welcome, little bug. Time to die..." and with that she shrunk the man.

He squirmed on the ground, staring up at the smooth leather of the Frye bootsole. He saw a well-worn toe-tap with the studs almost unrecognizable. He prayed that the Goddess Andrea would get a chance to get new taps soon, but he was glad to be getting squished by the worn one now. It rested on top of him, the rusted and flattened piece of metal, and he screamed a tiny nothing before his guts splooshed out and his body turned to liquid paste.