The Wrath of a Priestess (part 1)

Over the last year I had developed a taste for frequenting bars and nightclubs. I
would stare at the beautiful women and the average women. On evenings where I had a  copious amount of alcohol I even had the nerve to talk to some of them, this story is about one of those nights.
I had seen her before. She always dressed to kill and tonight was no different.
She had on a white lacy top with a short black mini-skirt, black nylons and thick 4 inch
block heeled designer boots, the type that only came up to her ankles. She had sandy
blonde hair, a sharp nose and soft green eyes. She carried herself with an air of
superiority and from over-heard conversations she believed herself to be such. When I
sat by her she was talking about the WICCAN faith and that was my cue to say
something to her.
To my surprise she recognized me, “ Oh you’re the shoe guy,” she said with a
slight smirk. Apparently it was more well known than I thought, I had laid on the floor
under various women’s feet before, but I did not think it was all over town, especially
since this Wiccan goddess did not frequent the bars on a regular basis.
“Yes I know and those are some great ones you have on” I said as I looked down
at her shoes. She then mentioned something about me seeing them up close later, which
peaked my attention.
We talked for an hour about her faith. She informed me her name was Heather
and that she was a Wiccan high priestess. Considering the amount of Latin she was
spewing I believed her. The only phrase I recognized was infra dignitatem, or beneath
one’s dignity. Otherwise she continued on about how bad Christianity was and gave me
a crash course on the Wiccan faith.
After I had several Cuba Libre’s I ended up as her footstool, with those big block
heels digging into my chin. She kept looking down in-between her legs at me and
smiling.
“You still down there?” She said and then proceeded to ignore me for a ½ of an
hour. Various people in the bar were laughing about my plight, but at this point I did not
care. When she told me to get up after about 1 hour, I said that I wanted to be two inches
tall and inside her shoe.
“Be careful what you wish for.” She told me, and then quickly got up and went to
the ladies room.
The Bartender Becky came up to me and said that Heather was “wacked” and that
I was crazy to hang around with her and let her step on me like that. I wondered if Becky
was jealous, she was not drop dead gorgeous like Heather, she had a bit of a stomach, but
really long legs and a pretty, if not stunning face. She was barefoot behind the bar having
kicked her ½ inch heeled loafers off.
“Yes she is strange and all that Wiccan stuff I don’t believe it really, so she’s a
little nuts you are correct Becky.” After making that statement about Heather I felt really
strange inside almost like a shiver of fear ran through me, I didn’t really understand it,
it’s not like I said anything all that bad, and no reason to be fearful of anything.
Heather returned from the bathroom, she sat down turned to me and gave me a
stare that seemed to go right through me. I had to look away.
“Homunculus “ is all she said!
“What!? What does that mean?”
“Homunculus” she repeated. “You are going to get your wish because you
betrayed me. I am a high priestess and you have violated the confidence and time I have
given you. You will be the miniature man and your potential executioner will be the
bartender Becky.
I laughed, kind of giggled and said, “Okay Heather…” I stopped short, how did
she know I had said anything to Becky about her? She was the length of the building
away in the bathroom.
Heather continued giving me an intense angry look. “You will be ½ inch tall and
stuck spread-eagle to the floor behind the bar. It’s now 11:30pm if you make it until bar
time without her stepping on you and squashing you to death, then you will have your life
and I will forgive you for your transgression.”
“You are kind of freaking me out here, you really seem to believe that you can
actually do that to me.”
“Believe it homunculus!” she seemed to fade away from my view and my eyes
hurt like I had just been swimming in a pool with too much chlorine in it. I closed my
eyes tight until the pain started to pass, my back felt cool and I realized I was laying flat
now, as my eyes focused again it seemed I was no longer in the bar, … but wait?
An incredibly loud metallic like grinding sound filled my ears followed by a loud
thump, it was so loud yet lower in tone than the lowest note on a bassoon. I looked up,
my god Heather had done it, I couldn’t move my head, but I could move my eyes enough
to see the towering figure of Becky as she had just slammed a cooler door and had a beer
bottle in her hand. My eyes darted all around in an instant, the way they do when I’m
driving 70 in rush hour traffic. First I saw one of her feet, looked like it was a half-mile
away from me, but I could see detail in that foot I never thought existed. The fine hair
looked like ropes sprouting out of her foot, and what looked like large smears of mud on
her toes was just dirt from the floor. As she continued to walk the moist bottom of her
foot pulled off the tile with a sound like 100 circular saws cutting into 1-inch plywood. I
tried to turn my head sideways as the foot cast a huge shadow over me, but I couldn’t
move my head or any part of my body for that matter. I couldn’t even guess as to the size
of that foot approaching me, I was still in some sort of shock, but Becky’s foot came so
fast that my eyes couldn’t even adjust to the light change from the shadow. All I could
see was some fist size stones and pools of mud and more rock lodged in the crevices of
what looked like her heel, that heel spread out in all directions, it was all I could see even
in my peripheral vision. I tried to close my eyes but I could only blink, I couldn’t force
them closed either. She did it, I can’t believe it, Heather shrunk me, and Becky doesn’t
even know I’m here, a bug on the floor. I saw my death approaching, started to smell
Becky’s sweat and the dirt and grime. But as quickly as it was upon me it just
disappeared. I rolled my eyes up and looked back towards the top of my head, I could see all of Becky now as she was away and serving the beer. Her foot just brushed over me as she walked, not even coming within 25ft of me. God it won’t even take a direct hit to kill me; just a corner of her small toe will finish me! I remembered Heather’s promise,  I had to make it till bar time and I’d be allowed to live. A motion caught my eyes and I looked right toward the bar. It was an incredibly massive wiccan priestess, Heather, she  was leaning across the bar and looking down at me, she had that superior look on her face  that I had seen so many times before. She then held up her hand and crossed her fingers  and winked at me.

The sound had become deafening, music playing and people talking and laughing.
But as Heather leaned over the bar I thought I heard her say, “See you in Hell.” I
contemplated whether it was just an idiom or if she actually believed she would see me in
Hell. Considering the position I was in maybe I should start believing in Hell. A large
shadow cast over me again and instead of seeing Heather up in the sky leaning over the
bar it was the back of Becky’s heels I was seeing. All the fiber of my existence wanted to
run, but I couldn’t move anything. Becky’s voice thundered above.
“Where is Rob? Did he leave already?” She asked Heather.
“Oh I think he said he was going to lay low for awhile.” I could hear Heather’s
laughter and it slowly faded into the din of the bar as she left Becky standing there with a
confused look.
“That chick is just completely strange,” Becky said to a couple of her friends at
the bar. As she was talking she slid her right foot back and rested it with her toes
pointing down to the floor against her left foot. My senses were filled. My entire being
was like a piece of dirt on the floor. All I could do was smell sweat, dirt and grease, all I
could see was her toes grinding into the ground as the sole of her foot rose up and filled
what was now my sky. By the simple movement of her foot, she unwittingly came within
inches of smashing me into the ground under the tips of her toes. My whole being shook
internally, I was unable to move, but the pounding of heart and my utter terror would
have paralyzed me anyway. My death loomed so close to me, but not as close as it was
going to get.
Becky slowly moved her right foot down until the ball of her foot was flat on the
floor. I found my voice. “BECKY! STOP” and I proceeded to scream. But the ball of
her foot kept descending; my body was bashed as an avalanche of dirt rolled off her
approaching foot. As I continued screaming everything went black. But I was still alive,
my eyes adjusted to the light and I could see what looked like huge pom poms. It was
lint between her toes. I was in a cavern not formed by any geophysical phenomenon, but
formed by the space between and under Becky’s toes.
These near misses continued up until last call for alcohol. By this time I imagine I
resembled and smelled like an insignificant piece of Becky’s foot dirt. But it was last call
and I only had a few minutes left and I’d be okay and returned to normal! The terror of
almost being stepped on hundreds of times almost didn’t compare to the anxiety I felt at
getting these next few minutes behind me.
“Everybody it’s time to start heading to the door!” Becky yelled to the remaining
clientele. God I wish they would hurry up and go she thought to herself as she lit up a
cigarette and pulled her loafers off a shelf and dropped them to the floor stepping into
them. As she was sliding into her shoes something strange looking on the floor caught
her eye. “Yuck it’s some kind of gross bug,” her voice cracking and becoming more
nasal as it always did when she became excited or agitated. She raised her foot and
slammed it down hard and twisted it back and forth and slowly dragged it back. A
minute bit of red could be seen, most of the creature was stuck to the bottom of her
loafer. “I got it, I smushed the nasty thing!” She said like she had just accomplished a
great task.
My heart was in my throat and pounding as the giant washboard pattern of tread
descended toward me. I opened my mouth but had no voice. I heard her clearly, she
thought I was a bug. For a moment I thought I would be spared as her foot stopped and
hovered over me, but she was just moving it from the arch section that was over me to the
ball of her foot. For a brief moment my whole world was the smell of rubber and then it
was mud as my face was being pushed into a gap between the treads of her shoe, that
tread was caked with thick greasy grime. Then I couldn’t breath and I felt my face
starting to explode and then my chest and …nothing.
“Is this heaven?” I said out-loud as I observed a bright light at the end of a long
tunnel. I had heard stories of these phenomena but being mostly atheistic in my beliefs I
wrote them off as pure superstition. I didn’t seem to have a body either; I felt the same
as when I was stuck to the floor in the bar. I could direct my vision but couldn’t move
anything else, in fact there didn’t seem to be anything else to move. I now realized I was
lying flat looking towards the light, but it wasn’t even as if I was lying, it was like I was
one-dimensional.
“No this is not heaven.” I heard a female voice say, and then she giggled. “In
fact this is the hell I told you I would see you in.” The light I was staring at was filled
with an incredibly huge eye looking down at me. “You essence is now the insole of my
shoe. Your existence will now be to live and breath my foot and you will feel the
crushing pressure and the heat and the musk, but you won’t ever die, you are already
dead.”
“This is not possible.” As I thought those words I was answered.
“Oh yes you will believe it as soon as I’m wearing you out to the bar tonight.
This will be your hell for as long as I live, and you will be in whatever shoes I’m
planning to wear any day.”
I thought about it, as long as she lives…at least it will be over eventually, maybe
she’ll die young. I hoped it, hoped it with a building rage, my anger at not being able to
move the trapped and stuck feeling was overwhelming me, claustrophobia was
developing in me.
“I’ve been alive for 300 years already, so don’t expect that I’ll die young! In fact
for thinking that you’re going to be along for my 5k run tomorrow.” She laughed
uncontrollably; I could only see a part of her beautiful face as she laughed. Then her face
was gone from my view and a nylon foot started descending on me. I could hear her
saying to her self that she was going to give me a break after tonight, but now that I
wanted her dead, she would never show any mercy. I could hear a short laugh until the
sound was cut off as her foot slid into the shoe and engulfed me. In my one-dimensional
state I could only watch as the space between her toes and the ball of her foot descended
on me. I could tell she was walking as I could feel pressure, and I actually still struggled
to breathe. I tried in vain to do something, but the nylons ground into me like being
slammed face-first into a hurricane fence. I felt myself being squished and pushed even
lower into the shoe as if that was possible. They say Hell is a place of fire and brimstone,
but the heat that soon developed was indescribable. It wafted off her feet like the hearth
of a Recovery Boiler. Soon all I knew was the smell of her foot, the smell of leather and
nylon, the incredible pressure as her toes mashed and twisted me as she walked. I had a
good job and a bright future now I was reduced to this; the insole of her shoe. All these
thoughts flew through my head as her foot contoured itself around me and I actually
could feel myself being bent and pushed into the shape of her foot bottom.

Epilogue

Heather kept her promise to wear me in every pair of shoes she owned. When I
was transmuted to a different pair I would feel springy and okay. But that would change
as she trod on me and the heat and sweat permeated into everything that was now me.
Weeks would pass where she would not even acknowledge my existence; I was just her
shoe insole. Then at times she would taunt me, have long talks with me about Becky and
all the things I could have had. When she got drunk she would tell me to get out, get out
if you can, my big old foots coming in, this is your last chance to run. Then she would
laugh and I would see the dreaded site of her foot sliding in over me.
It’s been years and I’m still being trod on by Heather, now I think I’m losing my
humanity, I feel like I actually belong here, my thoughts are broken. Even when she’s
not wearing me I have trouble not thinking of anything except her feet. I’m almost
starting to worship them as they grind me and twist me in the heat, the humid odor of
them. But no I must stop those thoughts maybe there’s hope of…I’m her insole that’s all
I am.