[Reviews - 1]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer
- Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
This is one of Ogilthorpe's best, but unfinished tales
The Preacher Woman
Or
The Revenge of the Goddess
By ogilthorpe


Chapter One

Harry Harrison walked down the street, making his way towards his house after another long day at work. It was a pleasant early-fall afternoon in Springfield, and the brisk air seemed to rejuvenate Harry’s tired middle-aged body. As he turned the corner he noticed a large poster pasted to front window of the old Town Hall. He paused for a moment, and then smiled. “The Revival must be back in town.” He recalled his daughter saying something about a family night meeting that he had to attend. So this must be it. Harry turned to read the poster more carefully.
September 30th at the County Fairgrounds at 7:00 PM,
For one day only!!
The famous Sister Mary Nation, Minister of Her Gospel
brings her miraculous tent revival back to Springfield.
For one day only!!
Sinners, you again have the chance to hear this devout servant of Celestial Justice deliver her Gospel to all who will come to heed this inspired message.
For one day only!!
You have the opportunity to join the many who have experienced her Holy Spirit, and started a new and guiltless life.
For one day only!!
Miss Nation returns to call forth those newly won to the message of her Gospel. She asks that you return to her, and to bring your families, so that Sister Mary may expel from them the twin demons of ego and carnality.
For one day only!!
Harry glanced at his watch. “Why the 30th is today, and it’s after 5 already. He started his trek again and quickened his pace. Becky and her brother would be waiting for him.

********************


Not far away, inside the Town Hall, dusk began to creep into a large unlighted office. There, his form almost hidden in the lengthening shadows, Doctor Ernest Grady groaned and fought off a headache as he regained consciousness. He immediately sensed that things were not right. He kept blinking his eyes, hoping that the view around him would change. Either the room was suddenly 10 times as large, or he was only a few inches tall. Desperately his mind went into overdrive seeking some solid point on which he could anchor his sanity. He had rushed down here to tell Nina about the DNA tests. Yes, the ones that showed that there must have been foul play when Chief Rico disappeared. He had just told her, and she seemed so angry with him. But why? Was she mad because he came to talk business, and not about their upcoming wedding. Was that it? He recalled thinking that, and then the terrible pain had sliced into his head, then … nothing. Nina! Where was Nina? Grady swiveled about trying to peer through the gathering gloom. Was Nina a victim of this awful thing too? The answer would soon be upon him.
He saw a gigantic black object. Even in this dimming and distorted light he could not fail to recognize her shoe. It was one of the plain, well-worn pumps that Nina wore with her police uniform. He turned his eyes skyward to regard his fiancé. She was sitting in her desk chair, the very one that had belonged to Chief Rico until a few months ago. Her long muscular legs disappeared under her skirt. It was then that he noticed that her legs were crossed and that the second shoe lazily bobbed directly above his head, and prevented him from seeing Nina’s upper body. He stared mesmerized and baffled, at the dirty leather sole as it moved slowly back and forth above him. Suddenly she extended her foot to one side, and he could see her beautiful dark face, and long black hair bathed in the harsh red light of approaching sunset. She, in turn, was peering intently at the tiny figure standing under her shoe. They remained that way for some time, two silent statues presenting a macabre tableau. Each was lost in private thoughts. After several minutes the reverie abruptly ended, as Grady saw two more giant women moving in the distance. With great difficulty he turned his attention away from Nina’s inscrutable face, and the shoe that still floated above his head, and tried to refocus on the others. They stood off to one side, faces and bodies hidden by dark cloaks. Suddenly they started to converse, their casual conversational tones making the situation even more unreal to Grady. He thought that the taller of the two feminine Everest’s was the first to speak:
“Nina, if you’re done staring at your boyfriend, we really need to get on with this. We should get back before the Revival starts. You know we need the commitment from you. I believe you are with us but Mary needs more than that. You know the rules.”
“I know,” Nina calmly responded, “ No woman over the age of 21 may join the Sisterhood without a stain on the bottom of her shoe. Yes I know the rules, but do I have to step on him now? You know he’s my fiancé, and we are, or were to be married just next month. I can do it if I have to, but he’s so gentle. I know he could fit in with us. It seems such a waste, and he’s just so cute down there… Oh Ernie, why did you have to give out that DNA story to the press”
Young Dr. Grady was increasingly stupefied as the Giantesses talked about him as if he were not even there. When Nina did speak to him his nervous system reached such a point of overload, that he could not utter a single syllable. Instead he slid to his knees, buried his head in his hands, and started to sob.
“Now wait a minute Kal,” this was the shorter of the two cloaked women, “We have that other fella, Pastor Whatshisname. You still have him don’t you?”
Tall lady turned to reply. It was not hard to see that she was irritated. “Yes, Cassy, but you know that he is supposed to be the sacrifice at the ceremony tonight. Sister Mary asked especially for him. I don’t want to disappoint her.”
“Sure, sure. But there are lots of nights when there isn’t a sacrifice available. I mean, what’s one more fat greasy haired TV preacher more or less. They all look the same after they’re squished anyway. Now Nina could step on him, and we could present little Doc here as a special gift to the Goddess. If he cuts the mustard then Nina can keep him. You know it’s going to be lonely for her keeping tabs on this town by herself after we’re gone. If the Goddess refuses him, then you get to step on him anyway. Sounds fair to me. C’mon Kal, be a sport.”
Kal looked down at her shorter friend and let out a long slow sigh of defeat. “Ok, Ok. You can have Mr. Holy-roller now. But you have to explain all this to Sister Mary. I’m not doing it. Anyway, I can see that the guy on the floor is a crier, and I really do like to step on criers.”
Without any more talk, she moved forward and unceremoniously dropped the chubby naked cleric on the floor next to the balling Dr. Grady. It was Reverend Jenkins from the big new Baptist church on the edge of town. He appeared to be in even worse emotional shape than Grady, and could now only shake, whimper, and strive to mold his rotund little body into the fetal position. Grady stared as the impossibly large moccasin-clad feet of the Giantess retreated. Then Nina moved. But she did not stand. Instead she dropped her shoe. It landed next to Grady and bounced away, but to the small man it felt and sounded like a building had collapsed around him. Before he could coax his eyes open something warm and moist and rough and pungent simply overwhelmed him. His eyes popped open. Nina’s stocking foot rested heavily and very painfully on him. Only his eyes and forehead were visible as he barely protruded beyond the edge of her great toe.
“Careful Nina,” this was Cassy’s voice,” he’s too fragile for that. Remember that you can’t walk on him unless the Goddess accepts him.”
The pressure did not ease up. Instead his fiancé’s smiling face slowly came into his field of vision. “See Ernie,” she purred, ‘there is a chance for us. And don’t you worry. If we have to step on you anyway, I promise you that I will do it. I’ll do it quick, or at least fairly quick. OK? Now let’s see if I can crack Mr. Hard-shell here.”
Then she was gone. His body now felt a sudden chill in the drafty air. Moments later Nina appeared, now reshod, and calmly stood over her victim. Her pump descended and roughly pushed the doomed man over onto his back. An expert eye would have noted her lack of experience. She had obviously broken both his legs just getting him into position. Grady could see that the man wanted to scream, but nothing came out. Nina rested her high heel on the floor and moved the toe up and forward, showing him a clear view of her sole, then slowly rotated her foot downward. Still, he could not even begin to squirm away, before her foot started to compress his delicate body. He managed only a weak gurgling sound, as Grady heard his pelvis crack. Then the shoe halted and lifted up briefly. Nina got into a rhythm, dropping her sole again and again; each time flattening the dying man a little more with her movement. Nina began to moan. It was almost as if she were making love to him with the bottom of her foot. Finally she stepped down full force, and the man’s agony abruptly ended as his body disintegrated beneath her leather pump. Pieces of the unlucky Reverend squirted out, and Grady noted with horror that bits of ministerial grey matter had splashed onto his chest and seemed stuck there. Nina’s eyes were closed, and a blissful satisfied smile graced her face.
At last she looked down at him once more. “Ernie, I know you don’t like me to smoke, but I think I need a cigarette.”
This finally was too much for the Grady. He screamed and screamed until his lungs were empty. Then he passed out.




********************


Harry Harrison couldn’t believe the difference in Rebecca. He had never felt comfortable his angry rebellious nineteen year old daughter.
He thought her too much like her mother. It was true, at least in part. The strikingly attractive and friendly face, the glistening auburn tresses falling abundantly about her shoulders, the trim athletic body, and the same luminous emerald eyes, all reminded Harry of his departed wife.
Harry liked to tell people she was dearly departed. It was true, sort of. She had run off with all their savings after their daughter and son were born. Well, she had departed, and it had cost him dearly. Sadly Becky’s personality reminded him even more of his long-missing spouse. Becky had always been restless and strident, and well, bossy. Harry learned to cope by pretending to ignore her. This technique was not possible for Jeremy, her twin brother. Though they were twins, it was clear that whoever allotted such things as aggressiveness and strength of character, had assigned them rather unequally. Even as small children she had taken special delight in beating up her sibling. That he grew to be shy and sickly had not helped much. Even worse was the slowness of his growth. Jeremy was always several inches shorter than his sister, and his immature appearance suggested more a freshman in high school, than a young man old enough to be a freshman in college. Of course there was only money enough to send one of the twins to the local university: so Jeremy bellyached and made do with his new job flipping burgers.
Harry was not very good at confrontation, at least not with Rebecca. He had learned not to notice Jeremy’s often-bruised face, along with the whiskey bottles, the revealing clothes, and the frequent plaintive notes from Becky’s “concerned” teachers.
Ah, but how things had changed in the last three months. Only 90 days had passed since that steamy summer evening, when Rebecca first attended the Revival. Six hours in a hot stuffy tent with hundreds of other people had apparently worked a true miracle. And the miracle continued and intensified every night that she attended. By the end of a week, the transformation from slut to saint was near perfect. Now young Rebecca was a model of proper decorum. She was patient, polite, studious, and soft-spoken. Her family and friends, and even her teachers were bowled over by the change. Only her brother remained aloof from the growing throng of her admirers. People did not take Jeremy very seriously. His whining and his high-strung manner did not encourage much admiration. Of course everyone knew him as his sister’s punching bag, and though most would deny it, contempt had worked its ugly way into their image of Jeremy. So his impassioned protests that his sister’s conversion was all a play-act, were ignored.
Besides Harry was not the only happy parent in Springfield. Dozens of young women all over town had turned over a new leaf with similar remarkable results. Strangely it was seldom noted, that the young male delinquents seemed immune to the influence of Sister Mary’s message. Nor did it appear odd to anyone that all of the families blessed with this wonder, were so similar. All had but a single parent and always the father. All had but a single daughter, but always one or more brothers. Caution and curiosity had taken a sudden vacation in Springfield. The only thing that felt important to the townspeople was their pride in the newly righteous young women, who now confidently walked the streets and the campus.

********************



Harry looked in the mirror as he nervously knotted his tie. A bland nondescript face stared back at him. It was a bit of a puzzlement to Harry. At the office he was dynamic and outgoing. It was only when he was home that a kind of passive torpor overtook him. Even his face looked different. As he finished dressing he listened with half his mind to the news from the local radio station.
“This morning acting Police Chief Nina Carlson reassured reporters that the recent unexplained absence of Mayor Smith and Police Chief Rico had been thoroughly investigated, and foul play is not suspected. Later the Medical Examiner’s office seemed to contradict this by reporting that DNA tests run on samples from a small stain, found in the alley behind the Police Station, were a positive match for Chief Rico. This afternoon, calls to that agency revealed that the chief M.E. is not available for comment, and had also taken a leave from his duties.”
Harry heard all this, and remained unperturbed. Politics, like religion were not subjects of much importance to him. Still, Harry was eager to attend the Revival tonight with Becky. He didn’t know what to expect at “Family Night” but was eager to know more about the message that had changed his daughter so much.
Down the hall in Jeremy’s room it was a different story. Jeremy had just reluctantly grabbed his sister’s missing pair of gym socks from under the bed, and handed them over as ordered. Now he lay squirming on the floor, as his sister rather comfortably sat on his stomach. Her shoes easily pinned his arms onto the floor, as she continued to lecture him.
“Jeremy, you spineless worm, how many hundred times have I caught you with my dirty socks. You just never learn. Now get yourself cleaned up cuz you are too going to the meeting with me and with Dad. That’s all there is to it. This is for your good too. Now finish getting dressed. We have to leave in a few minutes, and we can’t be late.”
“ But Sis, I don’t want . . .” The stinging slap from his sister’s right hand stopped his bleating voice mid-sentence. His face was reddened from the slap, but was also flushed with anger. There were occasional moments of growing defiance in Jeremy that she found irritating. “ Just you wait. I’m gonna grow some more. Dad said so. One of these days I’m gonna be too big, and you won’t be able to push me around.”
Becky grinned and gently tweaked his nose. “Yea, Yea, I know: the big late growth spurt that we’ve been waiting for... just like the one Dad had at your age. Believe me Jeremy, I have thought about that. I don’t think it will be a problem. Now get ready to go. I need to go see if Dad is ready. I really don’t want to wrinkle my new dress messing with you, and I don’t want to have to bruise up your face either. It might give people the wrong idea.”
“Yea, you say . . . Then Dad will know that you’re mean as you ever were.”
Becky slowly stood and smiled so innocently as she calmly responded to him. “Brother dear, sometimes you’re dumber than a dung beetle. I could cut off you head and stick it on top of the TV and Dad wouldn’t notice, till he saw the grocery bill was so much smaller. But you’re right: I don’t want to bruise your face. On the other hand I don’t mind hurting you where it doesn’t show” Jeremy felt her carefully shined leather flat settle into his groin. He started to jerk away just as she stepped down. Moments later as his crying subsided, Becky started to laugh.
“ Now get moving, pond scum. You just need to cooperate. That’s all. And if you do like you’re told, then I promise never to kick you in the nuts again.” With that she started to leave, but then turned back and rested her foot gently on his heaving chest. Becky looked about the room then bent over as if to discreetly impart some super secret. “And you Ninny, if you want to smell my socks, all you have to do is ask me. I’ll be glad to stand on your face as long as it takes, maybe even forever.” Her giggling turned to much louder laughter as the door closed behind her.
Jeremy felt very confused. His sister promising not to kick him in the groin was about like having her promise that the sun would rise in the west. He quickly finished dressing, moving rather gingerly because of the soreness between his legs. He took away some of the pain as he thought about how he would deal with her when he got a few inches taller. “Just wait till I’m big,” he said, “Just wait till I’m big.” But then as he passed a mirror he saw his own reflection, and could not help but picture in his mind’s eye, Rebecca, standing on that face. “Yea, like forever,” he muttered, “that’s some joke… Isn’t it?”

Chapter#2
Five hundred people crowded into the huge rectangular tent that evening. There were no lights in the rear of the tent, where most of the people sat in shadow. At the other end was a huge dais bathed in impossibly bright light. On one end of the platform stood the senior choir and band. They were forty purple-robed women in their twenties and thirties. All were members of the permanent staff of the crusade-the Inner Circle. They sang and played with gusto after every speaker, mostly old gospel tunes with the words subtly reworked to suit them. They were an enthusiastic group, who were just then serenading the crowd with their special version of “Swing Low Sweet Chariot.”
In the very center of the stage behind the simple pulpit, stood Sister Mary Nation, who also appeared to be enjoying the choir. She wore no robes, and there were no pins or badges to signal her lofty rank to the uninitiated. Those who came expecting to see some variant of “Tammy Faye” were surprised. What they saw was a tall hauntingly attractive woman who appeared to be perhaps thirty-five. She was dressed like a rising young woman executive, with a conservatively tailored brown woolen suit, sheer beige stockings, and just a hint of makeup on her handsome face. Splashes of brilliant color were confined to only the top and the bottom of this imposing lady. Her radiant crimson hair was drawn up into a tight, severe bun, and at the other end, simple but elegant red pumps adorned her feet.
As the choir continued, she scrutinized her audience with some sense of satisfaction. Then she turned her gaze on the acolytes who stood in the front row, along with their fathers and brothers. Sister Mary was pleased that eight girls had returned tonight. The offering tonight looked very good. In the last town she had received only two fathers into her service, not enough to even match the attrition that inevitably came when punishments were called for, or when the women of the inner circle were unable to contain their holy passions.
The two fathers from last night were now nearing the end of their “trial” with Sister Mary. It was one of her duties to use the latest offerings the first twenty-four hours to establish whether the men were fit to serve the Inner Circle. She moved her pelvis slightly to better feel the father who squirmed inside her. She was pleased with him. He continued to move about long after many of the new fathers simply passed out from the heat and the fragrant air.
She was less optimistic about the man in her shoe. He had stopped moving entirely. Sister Mary was confident that he still lived. She could feel his rib cage heaving against her moist sole. Now curious about him, she carefully slipped her stocking foot out of her shoe, which was hidden behind the pulpit. To her congregation she appeared to be in silent prayer, her head bowed behind her clasped hands. She observed him on his back and on the sole of her stylish shoe. His legs were bent and splayed outward, and had flattened under the weight of her heel. His head disappeared into the toe section. She used her long toes to drag him into better view. There he was; red faced, gasping, and evidently unconscious. She tentatively massaged the immobile six-inch figure with her great toe. She rubbed gently at first but then much more aggressively. Finally she saw his eyes open. He was awake! His forlorn little face stared up her for a moment. Then he clumsily clasped his tiny hands in front of his face. It was the proper gesture of penitence and prayer! He responded well. His spirit was strong and willing, even if his body was fragile. Sister Mary allowed her lips to curl upward into the outline of a smile. She sighed and stepped back into her shoe. She felt him squirm as his form was once more imbedded into the bottom of her foot. “My little one,” she thought, “your prayer has been answered. You will serve me and the Goddess well, if you have the strength to survive but a bit longer.” She turned again to face her audience.
By this time the choir had started the final verse to the song. Sister Mary noticed a group of 3 women emerging from the shadows into the crowd. Two of them wore dark cloaks and hoods. The third was a black-haired young woman wearing the uniform of the local police. Mary watched as the trio threaded its way through the people to a spot not far from the base of the platform. It was Sister Kali, back from her mission in town, and whatever Sister she had drafted into helping her for tonight’s work. But why was this policewoman with them: was there a problem? Suddenly the hoods came down.
“Why that is Sister Cassandra,” Sister Mary muttered to herself, “all pert and petite and empathic.” Indeed every single blonde hair was in place. Sister Kali was quite a contrast. Despite the fact that she shunned heels she was taller than most of the men in the audience with, as usual, her beautiful face half-covered by long unruly auburn curls. Kali spent little time in front of the mirror. She was much more interested in crushing the competition.
The women turned toward the door that led to Sister Mary’s own trailer, and she noticed a subtle hand signal that asked her to come there after when she was finished. Just as they got to the door, Kali stopped the policewoman and whispered something to her. Then she leaned against Kali, and slowly raised her foot, making the sole of her shoe clearly visible. Even at this distance, Sister Mary could see the fresh wet stain there. So that was it. The officer was a senior recruit-a woman who joined the sisterhood offering the “stain on her shoe” instead of bringing her brothers and father, as the young acolytes were required to do. This was rare. In fact, in the assemblage that traveled with this Revival, only Sister Kali had taken that path to Goddess. The two seemed to be best friends already, at least they were giggling and whispering to each other as the new girl balanced gingerly on one foot. Cassandra merely shook her head with evident disapproval. It was very confusing.
Sister Mary sighed and shifted all her weight on the man under her foot. This somehow always helped her stay calm and focused. She suspected all this meant that Reverend Jenkins, who was supposed to be the sacrifice for tonight, had already met his just reward. It could be a long night.

At last, the choir had finished. Sister Mary took up again the sermon, Her powerful voice boomed out to the crowd, strong, yet with a sultry feminine quality fused into every word. Her tone had a hypnotic effect on the eager listeners, but the text, if transcribed and read carefully, would have made little sense. The sermon contained various religious clichés strung creatively together, along with a hodgepodge of hackneyed expressions. In truth she said very little but left an impression of enormous wisdom. Sister Mary could have been a formidable politician.
She offered just enough hints to create a resonance in the minds of the special young ladies who were her potential recruits. Most people assumed even as they drove home from the Revival that Sister Mary was marketing some version of the Christian Gospel. The Goddess was never mentioned directly till the young women who came forward for conversion, gathered backstage to begin their indoctrination. Then, a much more open message was revealed.


********************


Rebecca stood in the very front row with the other acolytes and their families. To her left stood her father Harry. She noticed that the two of them were of equal height, even though Becky wore only her shiny black Maryjanes. Acolytes always wore flats. She missed her heels, but was prepared to be patient.
Harry’s sallow face looked a bit dazed by all that he had seen. Though there was little expression on his face; he did not seem to be resisting what he saw. “Embrace your destiny, Daddy,” she thought to herself. “Please don’t disappoint us.” Becky counted on her Father’s compliant nature. She just knew that he would find a home in Sister Mary’s service.
She refused to think of the alternative. In her short time with the sisterhood she had already seen plenty. The acolytes were required to clean up when a father too stubborn to submit, met his eventual punishment. How could such little males make such huge messy piles of entrails and limbs? Becky did not mind cleaning up the messes. She actually found it exciting. But she did not want to clean up her father, or even her bratty brother for that matter.
Becky peeked down and to her right. Jeremy’s face was a collection of contradictory cues. On one hand his fresh eighteen year-old hormones were clearly roaring. Sister Mary had unquestionably lit a flame in him. He could not take his eyes away. Despite his excitement, he also looked terrified at the same time. Becky looked more closely at his face shining in the harsh reflected light from the stage. She could see that the pimples on his face seemed more prominent in this light. Perhaps the blemishes were the harbinger of the long-awaited growth spurt, the one that would never be completed. She wondered if the zits would go away when the growth sport was... reversed. She found herself giggling at the image--Jeremy delightfully helpless at his new height, yet snobbishly conceited about his perfect complexion. She stopped laughing. He could really be that way. Jeremy was just stubborn and stupid enough to sometimes completely miss the point.
Yes there were risks. Some offerings simply did not make the grade. She would, with little hesitation, sacrifice Jeremy if necessary. But she would much rather have him alive and wiggling inside her sock.
A few minutes later the service ended. Sister Mary instructed the acolytes to gather with their families, at the large trailer behind the tent. This is where the real business of building the faith transpired. Rebecca eagerly led her ignorant men there. “C’mon guys”, she cried, “let’s go see the Sister.”


********************

Just at that moment, it was rather crowded in Sister Mary’s Trailer. All the older Sisters were in the meeting. They came to meet Nina, and hear about the interesting events in town. Sister Mary was off to the side, in a small dark adjoining room where she routinely went to commune with the Goddess. She had taken young Dr Grady to ascertain his acceptability to serve them. It gradually grew silent as everyone awaited the out come. A series of muffled screams punctured the silence. Apparently Dr. Grady was not dealing with meeting the Goddess any better than he had dealt with watching his fiancé crush a helpless man under her shoe. Kali began to brighten up. She was really hoping for a crush this evening. Then a few moments later she heard Sister Mary’s voice ring out. “Is Nina wearing pantyhose? If she is, have her remove them immediately.”
Nina was quite bewildered, but within seconds several sisters took hold of her to help her remove her pumps and hose. She felt a touch at her shoulder. It was Sister Cassandra. This time she bent over to do the whispering. “It means you get to keep him, Honey!” Nina broke out in a grin just as the Sister’s work had revealed two very moist bare feet featuring, appropriately enough, shiny police blue polish at the end of every long shapely toe.
At that point Sister Mary rushed into the room carrying a rather blue Dr Grady. He was gasping and choking so loudly that all the Sisters could hear him. As he was deposited by Nina’s feet, She stared down at him in alarm until she heard Sister Mary urging her into action.
Mary: “Nina, put your foot on him now!”
Nina: “But what’s… “
Mary: “Please Nina. I’ll explain in a second.”
Nina’s right foot moved forward and gently fell on him. She shuddered as his tiny body felt cold and clammy against her warm sole. Only his face, so contorted by his terror and his awful condition was visible. Immediately there was a change. The choking subsided, his color returned, and his body quickly softened and relaxed under her foot. Within seconds he appeared almost normal. Still his bulging eyes stared upward and unfocused, and then slowly they drifted shut as the man plunged into a slumber of exhaustion.
Mary: “Well, that was closer than it should have been. It’s mostly my fault for getting him out so slowly, but when you feel one with HER, it’s hard to separate and return… Let me explain all this Nina. The Goddess neither accepted nor rejected him. She senses great potential in his service. But he is obviously not ready to submit. Even if he was ready, his mind is too disordered at the moment to know what he feels. You understand that he has to embrace this as his destiny. He cannot and probably will never understand these things intellectually, but it must feel right to him. Usually we dispose of men who are not ready, but your Ernie is to be given time to come around. And for my part, I believe that our men could stand to have a physician among them.”
Sister Mary’s lecture was interrupted by a new voice from the back of the room“ That’s great! But isn’t he a bit small to sign a prescription pad.”
Sister Mary: “Yes Gwen. That’s certainly true. And I’m sorry if I’m boring most of you, but our new Sister Nina doesn’t know all this yet. It is true that the Goddess makes our servants sturdy and free of disease, but many of them wear out before they should. We have lots of dehydration and malnutrition. It seems, Nina, that some among us tend to forget that our toys have to eat and drink once in a while, or have time to rest after a few weeks in a shoe.” Nina noticed that several of the women were suddenly restless or looking guiltily at the floor. Apparently Sister Mary had struck a sensitive spot with many of them.
Nina: “But Sister Mary, I still don’t understand why Ernie was choking. And am I already a Sister? I thought there were tests… “
Mary: “Yes, you are one of us now. You passed the main test before you arrived tonight. We’ll have to postpone your initiation for now, since I understand you must get back to town soon. And in private we tend to dispense with calling each other Sister. It does tend to get repetitive. And that goes double for Gwen and Cassandra, who were already sisters before they came to us. Now as to your boy here, since he is not accepted yet, and is not rejected either, SHE has tied him directly to you. That means that he can breathe and survive only when he is in direct contact with the sole of your foot. The second he loses contact, he begins to choke, and would die in just a few minutes if left unattended. You look kind of skeptical. Try it now. Take your foot off of him.”
Nina complied, and within 2 seconds Ernie was rigid with spasms and emitting the most pathetic gurgling noise. Nina had seen enough, and quickly covered him, this time with her other sole. He recovered more quickly this time. Already it felt so natural to her to feel his pleasantly soft body beneath her. Without even thinking, she began kneading his form with the ball of her foot, as if he were only a ball of warm doe-something she would naturally shape to her own needs. She continued this action as the conversation continued above.
Mary: “I see that Ernie has found a nice home. He will remember all this, at least when his brain is working again. You understand that this situation puts restrictions you as well. He must stay under your foot 24 hours a day. If you wear stockings or socks, he must be inside them. I suggest bare feet until you set up a routine. It can be awkward if he needs to go when he is inside you stocking. And yes, the contact must be with the bottom of your foot. He cannot go between your legs. That pleasure is denied until he is fully accepted by the Goddess.
There are many other things you should know, and Kali will need to explain them all. You must be our eyes in this area until we next return. Kali has a special list of men that need watching. Don’t try to dispose of any men by yourself, but contact Kali. She is our warrior-The Sword of the Goddess. She may, without any other rituals, shrink down enemy so that you can easily deal with him. Not even I can do that. She is special, so heed her words well.” Finally Sister Mary turned the others. “Sisters, we have a lot to do; brothers and fathers to take, and 8 new sisters by dawn. So let us welcome Sister Nina, and then get on with the nights work.”

********************

Dr. Grady’s mind started to work. He did remember, and he started to try to make sense of things. He knew that he was in Nina’s shoe, lying under her foot. The pressure was intense, the scent indescribable, and the darkness was complete. Yet he could breathe, and he could begin to think again. He knew that she was talking to that woman, Kali. He was moving in circles. She had picked up her foot, and was rotating that foot. Her feet must be very tired. In some way he knew this was all so, but he could imagine how this knowledge came to him. Then the pressure suddenly quadrupled. She was standing on her fiancé with all her weight as she rested and flexed her other foot. She had forgotten that he was even there. He could no longer breathe. He would pass out again soon. He knew that this was true too, with the same mysterious certainty. How long would he survive then, if he was already so easily forgotten? This he had no answer for, but he did have great fear as he lost consciousness.

The preacher Woman#3
Jeremy gets the spirit and a new name

Rebecca quietly led her father and Jeremy into the huge trailer at the rear of the tent. They waited in line for their brief audience with Sister Mary. Harry stood placidly in line, while Jeremy showed more signs of restlessness. Rebecca could see that he was eyeing the exits. Alarmed, she sidled up to her baby brother, and laid her arm on his shoulder. The strong fingers of her hand found his neck and squeezed. Jeremy suddenly stiffened in pain. His knees buckled under the downward pressure from her arm. He found himself kneeling at her side. Rebecca loosened the hold on his neck as she bent over to whisper in his ear.
“I can’t have you thinking about running away, runt. Now you be a good boy and stay right there until I tell you to move. Besides silly goose, when was the last time you ever got away from me.” Becky stood and playfully ran her fingers through her brother's hair, as he knelt next to her.
A couple of minutes later a tall dark woman approached. She stopped and looked directly at Becky. Her elegant movements suggested deep eroticism, despite her reserved manner and clothing. Her voice was soft and pleasant. “ I am here, Miss Rebecca, to take your father. All the father’s will gather in the adjoining chamber to meet with Sister Mary and receive the spirit. We will need you for the final ritual, but that will not happen for some time. You do not need to come until you have finished completely with your brother. Do you understand, Miss Rebecca?
Becky recognized the woman and bowed her head as she answered. Yes Sister Letitia, I understand, and I will obey you.
Having completed their prescribed speeches, Becky could sense Letitia’s manner changing. She smiled warmly, and gently embraced Becky. “Don’t be so tense dear. You have two fine offerings here. Relax and enjoy yourself. By Sunrise your family will belong to the Goddess, and you will be one of us.” She then led her father quickly away. He followed meekly, with no hint of resistance. Becky did feel less tense. She looked down at her brother, who continued to stare at the floor. He was ready to submit, but still looked fearful. She suddenly felt a wave of warm feelings for him. In spite of his selfish whining, he was devoted to her. She rubbed his head lovingly, a gesture like petting a large dog. She began to hum to herself and let her imagination roam. She casually rested one shoe on Jeremy’s thigh, as she continued to stroke his hair.
Jeremy felt less panic as he knelt there. Ordinarily his sister’s foot on his body precipitated a hormone storm. Tonight it was different. He didn’t even know what he was into, but he sensed that it was “ pretty heavy.” At least that’s what Devon Dugan would have said. Devon was one of the few guys in his class that seemed to like Jeremy. Maybe that was because he was even more of a geek than Jeremy. Now Jeremy felt helpless, and he somehow knew that he would never see Devon again. Suddenly his sister looked like a mountain of stability. No matter what happened, she would be there. He could cling to her, and He had no one else. The boy reached out to the leg that rested on him, and took it in a gentle embrace. Bringing his bewildered face to her thigh, he hugged her nylon-covered calf to his bosom. Rebecca looked down on this with amusement in her eyes. She sighed and continued to run her fingers through his hair.
Within an hour their turn had come. Jeremy reluctantly got to his feet and followed his sister through a door into a simple well-lit room. There sat Sister Mary, waiting a bit impatiently for her next acolyte and offering. No other Sisters were in the room. Rebecca bowed deeply. Jeremy was brought forward and he found himself kneeling again, this time before the beautiful evangelist. Sister Mary smiled at the very nervous young male. She turned to Rebecca who recited the ritual phrases to begin the ceremony.
“Sister, this is my brother, who shares my blood. I bring him as a gift to our Goddess Satana. I present him to you as token of my devotion.” At the word gift, Jeremy stiffened. He came up against his sister’s legs that were close behind him. This alone kept him from fleeing.
Sister Mary continued the ceremony. “Is your offering pure, young acolyte? Has he polluted a female with his vile organ?”
“No Sister. He is a virgin.”
“Has he polluted himself with thoughts of women?”
“Yes Sister, He masturbates daily with articles of my clothing.” Sister Mary showed no trace of surprise, but simply continued to the next step.
“Then young lady Rebecca, you may withdraw while I instruct this male youth in what is to occur.”
Rebecca backed away, but did not leave the room. She went to a chair by the door and sat, listening carefully to Sister Mary’s words.
“Now, young man, do you understand any of this?”
Jeremy’s voice was barely audible as he answered. “I don’t think so Miss.”
“Then I shall explain as much of this as you need to know.” Sister Mary settled back in her chair. As she made herself more comfortable, she crossed her legs. Jeremy found himself staring at the soft red toe of her shoe. He felt an intense urge to lean forward and kiss the leather, but he retained enough wits to know that would be unwise. “Boy, like most people molded by malevolent religious sects like Christianity, you could use a sharp jolt of truth to set you on the correct path. There is no subtle way to tell you that your notions of good and bad in this world are upside down.” Sister Mary looked over at Rebecca, as she slipped into the familiar narrative, explaining the true story of the world.
“Long ago our Goddess Satana was alone. Nothing else existed. Then, she made our universe. She made the Angels to keep her company in the Ethereum outside her creation. Then she made women- special Angels uniquely designed to live in this bright new exciting universe. She gave to these women the five senses- the tools they needed to appreciate the wonders of the physical world. She gave them sexual delight- a way to use those new magnificent senses to be as one with Satana herself. But she saw that life in this new realm required special efforts to be sustained. It required toil and labor for the women to survive. And so she made for herself a singular servant, and called it Jehovah, or Yahweh. Yahweh was made to please Satana, and was made to create for the women of this world the tools they needed to survive here. Satana took her repose and had delight in her new universe, in her companions, in her women, and most of all, in her special servant. Yahweh proved so clever in understanding this world, that Satana made it caretaker of the entire earth. Yahweh devised a special beast of burden, to work for the women and amuse them as Yahweh was made to amuse Satana. But sadly Yahweh was an imperfect creation. It came to hate Satana, and the soul of Yahweh became bitter with jealousy and pride. It sulked and plotted. Yahweh endowed this new beast not with Satana’s feminine spirit, but instead with the wrathful essence of Yahweh. The new being was called man. And the new spirit the male spirit. And Yahweh became to the beings of this world the all-powerful male spirit. It became Him who was called God, and it was Him that ruled this world. He fled from his rightful place under the throne of Satana and stole from Her the dominion over our physical cosmos; and all in hateful defiance of his maker. He knitted a vast fabric of deceit to hide his evil from the now isolated women of the earth. It was he who burdened them with wombs, and even the languages he made for us on earth made it appear that men were the first creation, and that females were no more than men burdened with wombs. He struck this young world with the curse of death. And because the bewildered creations of Yahweh knew death, he made the women the vehicles of reproduction, to keep his world, (as he now thought of it as his world) alive with fresh generations of creatures caught in the misery of ignorance and short lives. He empowered his own male minions to degrade all that Satana had made. He caused men and women to come forth from the same womb of women, and made them share the same blood, as if their souls were the identical. He cleverly turned the truth of creation upside down, casting Satana as the malevolent spirit of “rebellion,” and perhaps most ironically he showed her as a hateful jealous male.
“Thus has it been through all the ages of the earth. There have always been a few women who somehow saw through this hideous ruse and sought to commune directly with Satana, and so to feel their true feminine strength. Some males may also be brought to savor their correct place in the universe. That is why you are here. Your sister has given you to Satana, and hopes you will take in her spirit. In past ages we Sisters needed men of size and strength to draw water and pull the plow, and to defend us from Yahweh’s ever-present horde of vassals. That is no longer true. Through us The Spirit of Satana has slowly begun to creep back into this world and grows in strength. We now need no hulking brutes to serve Satana, or to serve women. In a few moments I will offer you her spirit, and you will be made small as befits your true place in the universe. If you survive the initiation then you will serve all of us and especially your sister as long as you live.”
Someday the evil of Yahweh will be overthrown. The blight of male dominance will be eradicated. None of us will likely see the final return to Paradise, but it will happen. Our Goddess bides her time. In this age, you are one of the lucky few males who may cast off the deviant essence of Yahweh and serve Satana’s earthly angels as was meant to be. I do not expect you to understand much of this. Tonight you need know only one thing. Rebecca wants you to accept the spirit. I wish you to accept the spirit. But we cannot force this thing upon you. You must let it happen to you. If you are obstinate, we will, sadly, be forced to destroy your physical body. We cannot bring you to the Goddess unless you allow it. This is the only important and last decision you will make in life. I tell you not to think, but accept and all will be well.”
By this time Poor Jeremy felt utterly overwhelmed. Amidst the lust and terror and confusion, he found that he no longer had a will of his own. He could only stare at the bright toe of her shoe, and whimper.
Sensing his acquiescence Sister Mary turned to Jeremy’s sister and beckoned to her to come forward. “Rebecca, Your offering is accepted with our thanks. Come young acolyte and be the conduit of his transformation. Your brother needs you. Come help him and then be our sister forever. Now boy, take off all your clothes. Quickly now. Yes, all of them. You will need no clothes hereafter. Do not dawdle. Now, lie on your back. Close your eyes and remain calm. It will hurt, but for only a moment. Be brave boy and take the gift of the goddess, as it passes through your sister.... Rebecca, you know what to do?”
“I think so Sister Mary.” The young woman stepped up to Jeremy’s prone form. She slipped off one shoe and placed her stocking foot on Jeremy’s cold chest. He flinched at her touch, and then was still. She did her best to clear her mind and closed her eyes as well. They waited. In silence
Jeremy heard Sister Mary start to chant. She was singing and calling for Satana. The sound was muffled and seemed very distant. He could not make out the words. He felt the cold floor on his back, and Becky’s warm foot on his chest. His face grew hot and there was suddenly a searing sensation in his head, His body tingled and pain erupted everywhere at once. A second later, he lost consciousness.
Rebecca opened her eyes. She fought off vertigo as she tried to focus on her foot. Jeremy was gone! Alarmed, she pulled her foot away and there he was rolled up into a ball. Slowly he unwound and lay there visibly shivering. He was barely two inches long. At last Sister Mary’s voice, this time strong and passionate, interrupted the silence.
“Welcome Sister. The goddess has accepted your gift, and returned it to you purged of the evil of Yahweh. Rest a moment, and then take him back to the main tent. The other new sister’s will gather there to finish the ceremony and to celebrate.”
“But Sister Mary, he is so small. Much smaller than the others I have seen. How can this be?”
“I cannot explain this to you. Satana gives him to you at this size. It is an unusual gift, but you will find that it is good. She determines what is the best size to serve you. Now I must hurry. I have two more acolytes to initiate before I can go to the fathers. It still looks like a long night.”
As soon as Sister Mary had left, the new Sister Rebecca quickly stooped and placed Jeremy in the palm of her hand. She ran to the main tent, and looked for the other girls. She saw, instead a bench. Rebecca sat and took a deep breath, trying hard to restrain her excitement.
She looked with fascination at her brother cowering in the palm of her hand. She brought her face close as Jeremy was trying to stand. Her tongue flicked out, and knocked him flat once more. “I tasted him and he is so sour. You need a new name. Jeremy will not do. Certainly Sweetie won’t work. Hmmm… runt… worm… “
Becky paused to consider an appropriate name. Her concentration was interrupted by the sound of approaching steps. She looked up to see Pamela Dugan standing over her and staring wide-eyed at her Jeremy. Pamela was a short pretty girl, who was both buxom and athletic. She was a year older than Becky, and was the captain of the University’s soccer team. She had probably done less to dress up for the big occasion than any of the other acolytes. A new t-shirt that was not skin tight was about her only concession to propriety. Well, her jeans were less faded than usual, but the grungy Nikes that she had worn forever were still there.
Pam: “Becky, you lucky slut. You got a toeboy. How did you rate that?”
Becky: “What… “
Pam: A toeboy! Like sometimes the Goddess makes one really teeny-tiny. It hardly ever happens and it’s like the greatest thing. They’re called that cuz they fit right under your toes. One of the older Sisters used to have one, and she told me all about it. They’re the most fun, and they like last for years and years and years before they wear out.”
Becky: “So it really is a good thing?”
Pam: “Good? I just said it was the greatest. Except, of course you’ll just have to share him with everybody. It’s not like the normal brothers, where you pretty much get to keep them to yourself after the first week or two.”
Becky: “So Pam… did it go OK with Devon? Did he come out… normal?”
Pam: Oh yea. He did fine. You remember how fat he was. I was kinda afraid he’d be cured or something, and come out all skinny from the transformation. But he’s as plump as ever. I was just getting used to walking on him.”
Becky: “ You mean you got him in those filthy tennies. You are a baaaaad girl.”
Pam: “Nah. I’m really a good girl. Don’t laugh like that. I am. I’ve been wearing the same pair of rank socks to practice for the last two weeks, and just to give the little dork a treat. Hey, ya wanna see him? Why don’t we give the boys a chance to say Hi to each other?”
Becky: “Sure Pam. Let’s have a look. I want to see if he’s still alive. So how does it feel, to walk on him I mean? I haven’t even stepped on Jeremy yet.”
Pam: “Oh he’s alive alright, and he wiggles up a storm every time I pick my foot up off the ground. And it feels great too. It’s just like the Sisters said. He’s so warm and soft, and I get this kind of calm happy feeling when I stand on him.”
Pam sat next to Becky on the bench. Becky leaned down to place Jeremy on the floor next to Pam’s shoe. Then she sat up quickly to get away from the odor of rotten sneakers. She noticed her brother didn’t try to get away. He sat and hugged himself, shivering in the cool air away from Becky’s hand. Then Pam giggled and slipped off her shoe. Both girls could see the flattened body of Devon inside, and watched as he expanded, a tiny balloon figure slowly filling with air.
Pam: “OK Bro. Your old pal is here. Come on out and be social. But just for a minute. I need to get my foot back in that shoe. The smell is even making me sick.”
Devon awkwardly pulled himself up and clambered out of the shoe. He managed to stand on shaky legs. Jeremy stood next to him. He friend truly was a giant, at least to him. His head wasn’t much higher than Devon’s knee. He looked up at the pudgy body, still crisscrossed with hundreds of lines where the fibers of Pam’s ripe socks had pressed into the pale damp flesh.
Jeremy: “Hiya Devon. Howya doing?”
Devon: “Ok Jer, I guess. It sure is heavy stuff. I’m still kind of scared. And you?”
Jeremy: “I guess I’m scared too. You know you smell like feet.”
Devon: “Yea. Is it real bad like she said?”
Jeremy: “Well it’s real strong. But you smell sort of good too. I wonder if I’m gonna smell like that?”
Devon: “I expect not. Nobody’s feet smells like Pam’s. I see she’s pointing back to the shoe, so I better get going.”
Jeremy watched in amazement as Devon climbed up and disappeared in the worn discolored shoe. Then Pam’s dirty sock came into view. He thought for a second she was going to step on him, and drew back, curling up into a terrified little ball on the floor. He dared to look up, and saw her enormous toes waving at him from inside the sock. The odor was suddenly overpowering. Then the foot was gone. He saw it again descending into the shoe, and then Pam stood, forcing her weight onto her brother. The muffled sound of Devon’s shrieking lasted for only a moment. Jeremy coiled again into a ball, this time not only in fear, but also to hide his tiny erection. High above the girls began to laugh at him.
Pam and Becky hugged each other, and then Pam stood to leave. Before she turned away she bent down to Becky and whispered. “Hey girl. You want to borrow my socks later. I mean your brother deserves a treat too, doesn’t he?”
Becky found it hard to stop giggling. “Well maybe. I brought some of my old socks too. They’re nothing like your stinkers though. Still he’d be kind of disloyal if he liked your smell better. See you later, Pam. And have fun.”
Becky watched the other girl walk away. Eventually she stopped laughing and picked up her brother, cradling him once more in her hand. He looked so fragile that it was hard to believe that he would last for years and years.
“So that’s what you are, a toeboy,” she said at last. “I have just the name for you then. I will call you Toejam, since that is what you will be. Yea. Toejam the toeboy sounds good. I wish now that I had not worn these pantyhose. I so want to feel you under my toes. But brother, I think I have something almost as nice. For now”
Rebecca reached under her skirt. She found the top on her hose, and deftly dropped her astonished brother inside. He quickly slid to the bottom of her crotch. It was dark, hot, and very very wet. Toejam was entangled in the coarse hair, and could barely move. He was totally immersed in the musky fragrance of his sister. He was scared, but not like before. Desperately, he tried to move; he could go nowhere but sensed that his movements pleased his sister. He heard and even felt her voice, as the sound vibrations passed through her massive body and into his soft, putty like flesh.
“ Ewwww... Yea, little Toejam. That feels good. But don’t tire yourself out too much. There’s another big ceremony to go. You’re not home free just yet.

The Preacher Woman #4
Nina and Sister Mary

The moon cast a pale light across the landscape, illuminating the quiet residential neighborhood as Nina approached her home. She had refused Kali’s kind offer of a ride and had walked the entire two miles from the Revival to her little house. She had hoped the long silent trek would help to bring herself down from the intense high she had felt most of the evening. But, this plan had backfired. With each step she felt Ernie squirming helplessly under her foot. With each step Ernie let out a little noise as the weight of her body slammed into him, flattening his body and crushing the air from his lungs. It was not a scream. It was more of a muffled squeak, yet the repetitive rhythm as she marched served to help build her sense of euphoria. She had never felt this much in control of her life.
She unlocked her door and as she thumbed on the lights, she started automatically to kick off her pumps, but caught herself just in time. She went to her computer and quickly found the secret URL. She used the password Kali had given her to log in. There was a directory of web pages. On the first page was a list of the local males who were deemed potentially dangerous. It was part of her job to monitor their activities, and sound the alarm if one of them was about to do something inconvenient to the goals of the Sisterhood. Eventually most of the men on the list would be removed, but such things were best accomplished slowly and carefully. It might be years before the town was completely under their control. She noticed that most of the higher-ranking officers in her department were on the list. She chuckled to herself. The Chief of Detectives was there of course; She hoped that he would catch on quickly that something was wrong. There would be a special pleasure in stepping on him.
She spent the next hour perusing various pages, reviewing her instructions, and confirming her contact persons in the other places where the Revival had stopped. All were small towns or cities, and all were somewhat isolated. And as the Sisterhood gained control, the town became a portal-a passageway through which the Spirit of the Goddess could secretly slip into this realm. The same thing was happening with Sisterhoods all over the world. And so the power of the Goddess grew like a fog cloud slowly spreading over the countryside. Springfield already felt different. Domestic violence had all but stopped. Men looked nervous, and seemed to avert their eyes from the women that they met. The women smiled more, and were more confident. Almost everyone felt it, but could not imagine where these new attitudes were coming from.
Nina eventually thought that she had done enough homework, so she slipped off her uniform, and donned the long flannel shirt, Ernie’s shirt, that she liked to wear when she slept. Then she reclined and relaxed on her bed, eyes closed but not with any thought of sleep. At last she turned to her still-shod feet and then grasping the shoe where her fiancé lay helpless, slowly withdrew her foot. Immediately the sound of desperate gasping came forth. Nina tarried a moment, marveling at Ernie’s partially flattened body frenetically flailing about in her shoe. Then she reached in to grab him, and quickly brought his convulsing form into contact with the sole of her foot. Almost instantly, he became quiet. She rubbed his tiny head into the soft folds under her arches, now fascinated by the mighty heaving of his chest as he slowly recovered from the choking horror. Tentatively she began to experiment with removing his face from her foot for just a few seconds at a time, watching as the choking fit overtook him, and then watching as Ernie collapsed in relief and growing exhaustion when ever some part of her sole made contact with his body. After some minutes of this entertainment, she rested her foot on top of the helpless male, slipping his purple-mottled face neatly into that wide space between her first and second toe. It occurred to Nina that such a wonderful opening seemed perfectly designed to confine a little man’s head. By this time Ernie was so tired that he could not even squirm under her. He lay there passively accepting the weight of her foot and leg, while his eyes gradually regained their focus. He stared sadly past the moist toes which imprisoned his head, and up toward the smiling face and the shining brown eyes of his beautiful captress. For some time neither of them moved. Then Nina finally broke the silence.
Nina: “Hey Ernie, whaddya think about this?” She leaned down to hear the response. His lips began to move, and she heard a faint voice utter a single word.
Dr. Grady: “Why?”
Nina: “Well hon, you need to be a bit more specific. Why did I join the Sisterhood? Why am I walking on you? Why are you six inches tall? Or maybe, why do my feet stink so much?”
Dr. Grady: “Why did you kill Reverend Jenkins?”
Nina: “Oh That. I guess I stepped on him cuz I really really wanted to. And well, it’s how you show your commitment to the Goddess. You ought to be happy about it. Sister Kali wanted me to step on you, and keep old Jenkins to use as a sacrifice for tonight. Yea, and I almost did it, too.”
Dr. Grady: “You almost… did it?”
Nina: “Well, you can’t imagine how precious you looked, lying on the floor there in front of me. And when you woke up, and were kneeling there under my shoe…well you were just begging to stepped on. But Baby, I really do like you a lot. I wanted to give you a chance. And you know that I would love it if you could look more appreciative. No? Maybe a smile? Hmmm… Besides Jenkins was my very first crush, and I sorta wanted you to share it with me.”
Dr. Grady: “Wha… what?”
Nina: “Gee… don’t get all choked up with gratitude or anything. Sorry. Was “choked” maybe a poor choice of words for you? I don’t see you smiling. But you can’t imagine how wonderful it felt, to mash the old geezer I mean. I’ve never felt anything like it. It was more than just a great orgasm. It was like a bolt of lightning entered me right between my legs, and my whole skin burned and tingled, and all the time this fire smoldered in my privates. It hurt, and it was delicious at the same time. I bet that’s how men feel, when a woman stands on them, that is, after the Goddess accepts them and all. You think maybe it’s like that, Ernie?”
Dr. Grady: “… It just hurts.”
Nina: ‘Of course it just hurts for you, silly. The Goddess hasn’t taken you in yet. Let me explain this again. You get a chance to live under my foot until I get called to join the Revival. If you’re not ready to serve Her by then, I get to squish you. Now don’t look all upset like that. It’s gonna happen one time or another. I mean if you do get accepted, then you get to serve all the Sisters, and not just under their feet either. You could last for years before you start to wear out. But then I get to squish you. Of course if I don’t go back to the Revival anytime soon, then I suppose you’ll wear out right here. It’s gotta be tough being under my foot twenty-four hours a day. But if that does happens, then guess what? I get to squish you. It’s the one thing you can count on.”
Nina smiled as she reached off to the side, and with a theatrical flair suddenly produced her now empty pump. Her smile morphed into a mischievous grin as she waved the grimy sole above his face. The stain that been Reverend Jenkins was not quite worn away. “Yea Ernie, here is your destiny. I’d hope that it would make you feel good, that is to know just what your purpose is in the scheme of things. You exist to give me pleasure, and the most pleasure you can possibly give me will be when I grind you to nothingness under this very shoe. Oh Ernie, I wish I had a mirror. You should see the look on your face!”
Dr. Grady: “Then… why don’t you just kill me now and be done with it.”
Nina: “Oh no, Honey. I want you to last and last and last. I want you to learn to love it. I want you to think of nothing in that crude male brain except to give me happiness. I want you to have no hopes or needs besides making love to the bottom of my foot. I want you to look up at me with your cute face full of love and full of gratitude as I crush you. I want you to plead desperately with me to step on you very slowly, and to make you suffer as long as possible. You’ll beg for that because you know it will give me more pleasure. That’s what I want, dear. Please don’t disappoint me.
Now I’d love to chat some more, but it’s getting late, so back you go into the shoe. And here is my nice warm foot to keep you company. So good night my little guy, my little crush boy. Sweet dreams.”
Nina slipped under the sheets, and closed her eyes. She was tired, but sleep came slowly. She felt like a child on Christmas Eve, waiting for Santa to come. For a moment she considered how much she had changed in a few hours. Before tonight, the notion of toying with her helpless lover for years, and then finally crushing him underfoot, would have made her feel… well… guilty. Now the thought seemed so natural and so normal. It just felt right – that things were meant to be this way. Could life get any better?
Inside her shoe, Dr. Ernest Grady bleakly contemplated suicide. If he could simply crawl out of the pump, then he could suffocate. It would be horrible, but then the insanity would end. He tried to make a move, but was far too weak. He could only lie there marinating in the heat, and the moisture, and the darkness. But most of all, there was the smell. Smell did not truly convey what he felt. It was like breathing in a hot acid steam that scorched his sinuses, and burned its way into his brain. His mind filled with revulsion greater than any words could convey. Finally, giving in to hopeless exhaustion, he let his face tumble into the jelly-like substance that grew under her toes. Then he sobbed uncontrollably. Yet amidst all this misery, Ernie felt himself, and utterly against his will, becoming aroused. It was an arousal so intense that, self-loathing was added to that catalog of forlorn emotions that made up his consciousness. Could life get any worse?

********************


Back at the Revival the Sisters of the Inner Circle were carefully looking over th
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
GTS_Lover



Joined: 08 May 2006
Posts: 2


PostPosted: Tue Jul 25, 2006 4:53 am Post subject: The Preacher Woman - Chap 1-6 (Con't) Reply with quote
********************


Back at the Revival the Sisters of the Inner Circle were carefully looking over the new crop of fathers. Eight little shivering, naked forms knelt in a loose circle for the women to inspect. Rebecca and the other new sisters had all left, eager to finish the initiation of their brothers. Three dozen ladies, most still wearing their purple choir robes, remained in the room. They milled about the room, and talked to each other about which of the men were particularly cute, or who might have some exciting spark of defiance left in him. They were always eager when such a large number of father’s were available. It was an exceptional sport to break in the new men, but most of the time only one or two were left. By ritual right, Sister Mary appropriated the first three for trial, so this was indeed an exciting night. Even after Sister Mary selected there would be five “newbies” left for the others.
Every sister had access to men for her enjoyment, and many kept permanent pets in their trailers. No woman had to go without. But still, there was a unique joy in stepping on a man who had never before, lain helpless in a woman’s shoe. They longed to toy with a fellow who had not yet squirmed in a vagina, or wiggled on a wet tongue, or thrashed in a dirty stocking, or dangled in fright from a mischievous finger, or huddled in fear in a tight brassiere. The very idea got most of the sisters terribly excited.
It is a sad fact that older men who receive the spirit tend to wear out quickly. It’s not the body so much as their vital essence that corrodes with repeated use. The man becomes gradually slow and dull. The zest for life and service disappears. The man becomes passive, and then apathetic. Then, if his owner chooses not to step on him, he simply dies.
It’s different with brothers. The spirit works more completely with teenage souls. Once they are trained they almost never lose that emotional gusto. No, they last until the body actually fails. Almost every sister in the crusade came to the Sisterhood with at least one brother who served them for years. Some last as long as eight or ten years before the inevitable breakdown. It’s a loss many of the sisters feel forever.
Fathers seldom last more than a year or two. Occasionally some lucky sister will find an older male who retains the passion to serve like a young boy. They are rare, and are the most cherished possession that a sister can hope to have.


Sister Mary Nation sat quietly in the corner, watching all the movement. Sometimes she envied the Sister’s who took personal pets. She tested the men, but seldom saw them afterwards. Oh, the men worshiped her, and there was immense pleasure in her work. But worship was not the same as love. Sometime she allowed herself to remember her own two dear brothers. She recalled the sweet way that they looked at her, and the way Owen could attach himself to her clitoris, and ride there all day long. And there was that special way Sammy felt under her foot. It was fun to reminisce, but it was not an indulgence she could allow very often. She was far too busy.
Right now, she was very tired, and was grateful that things had gone so smoothly, both here and with the acolytes and their brothers. Only a couple of hours before, she had finished with the last of the eight acolytes. She now had eight new sisters. There had been reason to worry. Often the girl offering two or three of her brothers ran into difficulty. But tonight things had gone remarkably well. Even the young woman with two sets of twin brothers was able to do her job and act as the conduit for all four. Sister Mary wondered to herself how the girl could manage a full quartet of six-inch boys. Even though the essence of the Goddess now pervades their being, they remain at heart, males. They have to be fed. They need constant attention, and they will certainly be jealous of each other. Sister Mary had imagined that three brothers to be the perfect number for a young sister- one for each shoe, and a third to warm that special spot between the legs. But reality was more complicated. After watching this process a few hundred times, Sister Mary was now convinced that keeping more than one male at a time was indeed more trouble than it was worth. Then of course she remembered Owen and Sammy.
Sister Mary knew it was time to ready herself for the choosing. She signaled across the room for her friend, Sister Gwendolynn to come and assist her. Sister Gwen was a pretty petite woman, a few years younger than Sister Mary. Her shining blond curls, and even more luminous personality were the trademarks of both her and her twin sister Cassie. Yet, she approached solemnly, bowed her head stiffly, and averted her eyes as she spoke with great weight and ceremony.
“Yes, esteemed elder one, how may I be of service?”
“Oh knock it off Gwen. I just want help with the men I have now. I have to choose again in a few minutes.”
“Well Mary old girl, I suppose you do. We wouldn’t want your panties to get too crowded, now would we? Did both of them make it?
I think so, though I’m not so sure about the one under my foot. He didn’t seem very strong to me. I felt some wetness down there, and I was afraid that I might have popped him. But I felt him moving just now, so I’m pretty sure he is still alive. By the way, didn’t you tell me he was a cousin of some kind? I was thinking you or Cassie might like to have him if he is OK.”
“Yea, cousin Ralphie. He used to tease us, well me mainly, when we were kids. I would like to have him I guess.” As they talked, Sister Mary slipped off her skirt, and pushed down her hose and panties. Gwen noticed with a bit of a smirk that the panties and the curly red hair around her sex were soaking wet. Gwen brought up a small box, and got on her knees in front of the other woman. She examined the tiny wiggling legs protruding from Sister Mary’s vagina.
“I think this one is O.K. Let me get him out of there. Yes, he looks good. I don’t think anything is broken. He looks pretty tuckered out. He not only smells like fish, he’d almost have to be a fish to swim inside you for a whole day. Yea little guy, it looks like you passed right out. I think he’s asleep already. And you didn’t even get a gesture of gratitude”
“I’m so sleepy myself, that I don’t even care... I kind of envy him. I’d love to take a nap about now. Let’s check out the one in my shoe... Gwen I can do that. I’m not helpless you know.”
“There now sleepy Sister Boss woman, you just relax and I’ll attend to Ralphie. Let me lift that pump off... Ewww for love of the Goddess, I hope you’re going to take a shower or something today. At least change your stockings. They are a bit ripe. Oh, but Ralphie is still intact. Let me get that stinky little body out and take a closer look. Do you recognize me, Ralphie? Yea, maybe you should look scared.
He’s certainly awake. I think I know what that wetness was. Ralphie has been a very naughty little boy. And it looks to me like he’s about to be naughty again. Well I am impressed. Twenty-four hours underfoot and he’s still raring to go. I’ve never had that happen for me.”
“Well that’s probably because you take so many showers, Gwen. Your feet smell like soap. Hey, you’re right. He is still ready to go. And I was afraid he was too weak to survive the breaking in. Shows you how wrong I can be after all these years... My, where has all the time got to? The other sisters, I see, are waiting for me to choose.”
Sister Mary slipped on her shoes and stood to pull up her panties and skirt. As she did she glanced at the group of little men on the other side of the room. She noticed that they were all staring at her. She scoured their tiny faces, finding several who had that sweet puppy dog look that she relished in her men. Suddenly she did not feel so tired. As she marched off to do her duty, Sister Gwen continued to hold little Ralphie. She playfully stroked and poked his stomach with her index finger, being careful not to scratch him too much with her nail.
“Ralph-eeee, now don’t go to sleep just yet. Remember when we were kids. Remember all those nasty names you used to call me. Awww, I’m not really that mad at you. As I look back on it, I think you were just trying to get my attention. Guess what? You got my attention now. Sister Mary says I can have you, and you know what she says, goes around here. I really haven’t had a personal pet in quite a while since my little Craig wore out. Sister Letitia says I get too attached. I get a boy that I like and I just use him and use him till he’s all worn out.
I think I will sort of try you out for a while. Now the rules say after the first night of trial, that you’re supposed to rest all the next day. I always follow the rules. Of course it doesn’t say just where you have to rest. I have a neat idea. You can rest in my shoe. Yes, and we can do an experiment. I want to see just how long you can stay down there and still be so naughty. Yes Ralphie, I think that does sound like fun.” Sister Gwen slipped off her own white high heel, and showed the inside to the apprehensive little man. She giggled and then dropped him into her shoe. “Now this really is against the rules I guess. So I hope you can keep a secret.” She brought her stocking foot to the edge of the shoe and wiggled her toes over her new toy. “Now see where that space is between the big toe and the one next to it. You stick your cute face in there. Then after a while I should feel a wet spot up here. OK. If you’re a good boy and work hard to stay hard... then we’ll get along fine. Now you just get the bottom of my foot good and wet and I’ll get you a drink of water in a few hours. Bye now.” She quickly slipped her foot into the shoe and stood on Ralphie. She tapped her foot a couple of times to make sure he was awake and flashed an innocent smile to the other Sisters. She started reciting scripture to herself. “The playful manner exalts the Goddess. The cheerful demeanor honors Satana. The devout Sister stands always on her principles. Well Maybe I should change Ralphie’s name to principles, cuz I sure am feeling devout today. And besides,” She added to herself “My feet do not smell like soap.”

The Preacher Woman #5
Harry gets a surprise; Jeremy (Toejam) gets his dance card full, Gwen is curious, Becky is happy

Rebecca was having a fine time. She was once again in the main tent. She had just returned with the other New Sisters from helping the father’s take the spirit. It had felt a lot different, though still wonderful. All the Sisters were present, and all the fathers had been transformed simultaneously. The process for the conduit was the same though. Each new Sister found her father and rested her foot on his chest. Rebecca was amazed at how docile they all seemed. None of them had known what was expected of them as the evening started. You would expect some of the men to at least try to resist. No, they all lay quietly on their backs in that circle. Becky made a mental note to ask about that later. She had not thought much about her father till this minute; her thoughts had been filled with images of her tiny Jeremy Toejam, and how she would enjoy him.
As she stood with her foot firmly on Harry’s chest, she could not help but notice his erection. She found that she was somehow rather shocked. Jeremy’s obsessive lust for her feet was an old familiar thing. She enjoyed it and even had cultivated his submissive mania, long before Sister Mary’s caravan first rolled into Springfield. She in some way grasped that Jeremy was put on this earth for her enjoyment. It had made her own conversion so natural when the Sisters had confirmed that her instincts here were correct. Still she had never pictured her father with an erection. She bossed him sometimes, but never toyed with him, or walked on him. That’s not what Dad was for. Harry’s job was to go to work and bring home money. Jeremy’s job was to be her plaything. Rebecca thought of it that way. Had she been missing something for years? She made another mental note to find out.
The transformation went quickly and smoothly. She still kept her eyes shut during most of the chanting, but managed to open them the last few seconds. She looked down at Harry and actually saw him reducing until he disappeared under her foot. At the end she observed with relief that her own father was the same length as the other fathers. Despite what she had heard, Rebecca still worried that her brother’s unusually small size somehow reflected on her ability to act as a conduit to the Goddess.
Young Sister Rebecca now found herself waiting as the remaining rituals were performed. She looked down at Harry and felt a funny itch on the bottom of her foot, and an odd restlessness in her toes. Tentatively, she moved her long foot over the still unconscious Harry. He looked so small next to her foot. She felt an intense urge to step on her father, but her sense of propriety restrained her. Harry had to go through the trial, and then most likely a Sister would claim him. But sharing was the way in the Sisterhood. She’d heard that again and again. She would feel Harry beneath her when the time was right. Just then she felt her tiny Toejam squirm once more inside her panties. Becky’s thought immediately turned to him, wondering how it felt for the boy in that warm and increasingly moist place.
The rituals were now at an end. She and the other new Sister’s were ushered out, and now they gathered in the main tent. The excited teenagers removed their dresses and sat on a huge satin blanket waiting for the next phase. They giggled and whispered to each other, and sang. It felt more like a sleepover party than a religious rite. Rebecca did her share of laughing, but then sat back and simply relaxed. She felt Jeremy squirming again, and then closed her eyes again to focus on the pleasant sensations. The urge to take him out was very strong, but Becky knew that she had to wait till one of the Elders said that it was time.
So she turned to an old friend Kaitlynn Rogers, who lay next to her. Kaitlynn was eighteen, barely old enough to join the Sisterhood. She was just finishing High School. Kaitlynn had always been kind of a smiling goody-goody. Somehow she seemed too nice and too naive to enjoy stepping on her two brothers. Becky listened to her friend chatter happily about how they felt in her sneakers. Out of curiosity, Becky glanced down at the old worn tennis shoes.
Becky: “Katie, I’m surprised they let you wear those stinky old Keds. I thought we were supposed to wear leather flats tonight.”
Kaitlynn: “Well Sister Mary did look at me kind of funny, but I think she understood. Only the dirtiest smelliest shoes will do for my guys. It’s like, most of the boys here were into feet, but my two dopy brothers always hated mine. They really did. When I tied them up and made them smell my feet, it really was a punishment. You know, I was afraid that when they took the spirit, that they would come out all pious and obedient, and would really want to be in my shoes. But they hate it as much as ever. The Goddess is wise. She knows that’s how I love to play with them. Oh they want to please me all right, but not under my feet. So, of course I’m going to keep the little screamers there for the rest of their lives. Wow! Just saying that makes me kind of hot. Yea… for the rest of their lives. I’m sure they’ll never stop crying and begging me to let them out. But I won’t do it. Ever. Say, you want me to take my shoes off later, so you can listen to them plead? It’s really something. But maybe we should do it outside. My tennies are pretty strong.” Kaitlynn sighed happily and lay back on the blanket. She closed her eyes and smiled, reciting to herself “for the rest of their lives” again and again. Yes, appearances could be deceiving.



********************
There was still a crowd of Sisters milling about as Sister Mary seated herself in a high throne-like chair in the center of the room. Before her knelt the eight new fathers. She slipped her stocking feet out of her shoes, and then carefully hand-signaled to three of the men to come forward.
Harry watched as the fathers that Sister Mary had selected, prostrated themselves before the Evangelist and did the gestures of gratitude and obedience. Harry was a little worried. He was not sure he could remember all the gestures. He tried to recite them silently, but his mind was still too jumbled to do much thinking. Besides he had somehow made the prayer and worship gesture in unison with the other fathers. Perhaps if he reacted instinctively, he would do what he was supposed to do.
He gaped at two of the men as they crawled into those sexy red pumps. Harry knelt at least five feet from the action. That seemed a long way when you are six inches tall. Still, the crusty sour aroma from Sister Mary’s feet and shoes was strong. It was awful, yet intoxicating at the same time. He envied the men until he saw how she casually dropped her feet into those shoes. He could feel the floor vibrate as she stood. “It’s impossible,” he muttered. Those men couldn’t be alive. They had to be crushed to paste. He had been told what would happen, but to see those colossal nylon-covered columns, and to know that there were real men pinned under them, and then to imagine that they still lived; well, it was utterly unbelievable! He was convinced it was a bizarre dream until he heard the screams faintly emanating from inside those shoes. That made it real. He’d been told to expect that too. Almost always the male would scream in panic and agony until he adjusted to the fantastic pressure.
Then as Harry labored to accept what his senses insisted was true, a mammoth hand swept briefly into view and grabbed the third man. Harry craned his neck to see the man held at the waist of the ravishing giantess. He saw the panties drop and observed the man disappear into that giant red muff. Waves of nausea swept over Harry. He fought off the panic as best he could as his eyes searched further into the sky. He could make out Sister Mary’s smiling face, like a huge billboard perched at the summit of a mighty skyscraper. Was this really only Sister Mary, a simple woman? It must be the Goddess herself come down to earth. But no, it was only Sister Mary and that was enough. At that moment he suddenly recognized that it did not matter. Sister Mary was a Goddess to him. The other Sisters were Goddesses. Rebecca was a Goddess. They were all Goddesses. They gave his life purpose by their very presence. He felt a sort of ecstasy overtake his struggling mind. It was wonderful and almost nonsexual. He knew his place in the scheme of things and that felt very, very good.
Tears flooded into his eyes as he watched Sister Mary walk away. He remained in that joyful reverie as the other Sisters came in to make their claims. He paid little attention to this action until a searing pain in his back shocked him back to alertness. He crashed to the floor, and was roughly thrown onto his back. A coarse brown surface came down hard upon him, crushing the air from his chest and holding him helpless. After a few seconds he realized that it was the sole of a shoe. What was happening? Had he done something wrong? Was he to be sacrificed?
No sooner had these thoughts crowded into his little mind, than he was flipped again, and immediately swept up into a warm moist prison. Was this a hand? He had no time to become oriented, as abruptly he was in free fall, Then he bounced and slid to a stop, once more on his back. He lay on something moist and warm. Dark leather walls enclosed him. Strong smells suddenly assaulted his nose. He was resting in the bottom of a shoe. He opened his eyes and tried to remain calm. It was an odd kind of shoe. But what made it odd? He struggled to think.
This was all wrong. A Sister had claimed him. But he had no idea who it was. She couldn’t just take him. He had to abase himself. He had to lie before her and use the pleading gesture, begging to be used. That’s what he had been told. What about all the rules!
Then the great skylight above him darkened. Something else was entering the shoe. There was a long bare beautiful foot rushing past his body. His brain stopped working then, except to register the pain and the pressure. He could not move. He could not breathe. He could not see. He could only scream and scream until all of his air was gone. Then all went black.

********************


When Harry awoke in total darkness the pain was much more tolerable. As his disorientation cleared he remembered where he was. He was hot and very wet. There was a little pressure, but Harry figured that his new owner must have been sitting down. Then he recalled the agony when she stood on him, and panic stated to build again. He reminded himself that this was his trial. He was now serving the Goddess. Even if he died here and now, he was still luckier than most men could hope to be. To stay calm, he focused on his sense of touch and on his sense of smell. Harry tried to move his arms, but it was impossible. He could move his face just a bit, enough to sense the rough texture of the warm skin above him. He could not tell for certain, but thought that his face rubbed on her toe. On impulse, he opened his mouth and tried to lick. His mouth filled with the salty taste of her perspiration. All this made an impression on Harry’s brain, but the truly staggering thing was her scent. It was an odor that was both overpowering, and yet full of nuances. There was the sharp acid smell of her sweat, and the sour almost rotten stink that comes only from toe jam. There was the smell of moist leather, mixed with that special fragrance that skin takes on when it is not washed. But most of all, there was an intense musky aroma that was just her!
He recalled now that there was something odd about his shoe. He closed his eyes and tried to relive those last moments before he passed out. There was s
omething about the leather; it seemed to be all around him. He realized that the soft substance on which he was trapped was leather also. There was no regular insole. He recalled the jagged shape of the opening, with something like a curtain valence lining the top of the shoe. Yet it wasn’t cloth. It was more leather. It was like... Yes, that was it. It was a moccasin. He lay under a Sister’s foot in a moccasin.
Suddenly Harry experienced a profound emotional reaction. Sadness and longing filled his mind. For the first time he felt physically aroused in that shoe. It was something about a moccasin. It was something about the word itself. He tried to keep thinking, but his excitement got in the way. It was an even stronger feeling than the panic or the pain. He knew the answer was somewhere in his brain, if he could just focus long enough to remember. He was close, ever so close to the answer, when she moved. “She is going to stand on me again,” he thought, and then the weight hit him. He stayed awake longer this time. He tried to comprehend the limitless pressure. He felt his body flatten out like a wad of gum mashed into the sole of a shoe. Every nerve ending screamed in protest, but Harry did not scream this time. Instead he heard a sweet feminine voice in the distance, and made out her soft laughter. He was about to pass out again when the weight was suddenly gone. Her foot slowly lifted away from him. Light assaulted his eyes as a long impossibly beautiful bare sole became apparent, and then receded into the distance. He closed his eyes against the even brighter light, and despite the agony in his limbs, he lurched upwards. He was feebly chasing the retreating toes. The thought of losing them, despite his suffering, seemed already unthinkable. He clambered to the rear of the moccasin, and forced his eyes to open. Just then he heard her voice once more. This time it was loud and clear.
“Yes, I thought you were waking up. And, darlin’, you didn’t scream at all. You always were a quick learner, Harry.”
Harry looked past the long slender foot, to see the gigantic woman who towered above him. It was a stunning woman appeared to be in her thirties. She was an older and larger version of Rebecca, right down to the knowing smirk on her face. It was the woman who collected handmade moccasins and wore them at every opportunity. He tried to answer her, but of course she could not hear the faint gasping noises that he made. His instincts proved true as he automatically made the proper gestures of gratitude and abasement. Then he sat back and whimpered with both fear and joy as he stared at his wife.


Rebecca was chatting with Kaitlynn when two other girls came up to join them. One was Jolene. She had been into the gothic thing before she converted, and her black lipstick, and short dark hair showed that she was not ready to completely give up that side of herself. She was very eager to join the conversation.
“Becky, I heard that Jeremy came out extra small. Is that true?”
“Yea, I guess so. He’s not even half the size of all the other boys. I don’t know how it happened. But that’s the way he came out. Sister Mary says it’s OK. I guess there’s nothing I can do about it now.”
“Well I hope not. You’re soooo lucky. And look kid; I get to be the first to borrow him. OK? Hey girls, come on over it is true. He did come out a toeboy.”
Before Rebecca could respond, the other girls crowded around, wanting to know all the details. Becky was taken by surprise, still feeling confused about her, or perhaps Jeremy’s sudden popularity. Becky started to tell them about her conversation with Pamela Dugan. Jolene, who seemed to have appointed herself the leader, jumped right in again.
“Ewww! The tiny ones are not much more than two inches long. All the older sister’s say they’re just the best to play with. And they’re so rare. I guess the Goddess doesn’t want us to have too much fun. Then we’d never get any work done. But those little guys fit just anywhere, and Sister Letitia says they feel different. So soft and mushy that you’d think they would squish any second, but they don’t. You can stick them between your toes, or under the instep, and your feet never get too hot. Sister Letitia says they fit right in your sex. They go all the way in and then you just squeeze and out they pop. Now come on, Becky you can’t hog the little guy. You have to share. I know we can’t see him now, but after the ritual is done, we’re all supposed to trade any way. And you just remember girl, I get him first.”
The girls chattered for several more minutes before it was time for the final ceremony. Rebecca was glad when they all went back to their places to wait. She was sort of put off by the idea at first. She felt rather possessive of her brother. Somehow she wasn’t prepared to have Jeremy pinched under some other girls toes, especially if he liked it there. He belonged to her! But the more she thought about it, the better it sounded. Sharing was the way of the Sisterhood, so why not?
As she sat Becky started to rub her fingertips over Jeremy, pushing him harder against her sensitive areas. She wondered how much of this he had been able to hear. Not too much she hoped. Wouldn’t want him to get a swelled-up head. She laughed to herself at the absurdity of the thought. Well, it sounds like he will be stuck up. Yea, stuck up the snatch of every girl in the room. But not before she got a chance to use him. That bit about being under the toes sounded really neat. Yea she had to try that before any other girl gets a turn. That’s for sure.

********************


Sister Gwendolynn strolled alone about the fairgrounds. Daybreak was approaching. She had kept Ralphie now for only four hours, and she couldn’t get him off her mind. The mischievous blonde had been afraid that he would tire out right away, and give the impression that only Sister Mary’s feet excited him. She needn’t have worried. Ralphie was doing his thing right now. She’d have to go in soon, for the final ceremony, so she decided to check on him. The pump came off and she smiled. “Yes,” she whispered, “still a very very naughty boy” Sister Gwen could see that he already looked different, kind of wrinkled and drained. There was desperation in those tiny eyes. He opened his parched mouth and seemed to gobble like a fish, as if he could take the moisture right out of the air. He shivered in the cool morning air. He must already be getting dehydrated. She felt the sticky spot on the sole of her foot. Would he just cum himself to death if she left him in there? It would be awful to wear him out this quickly, but she had to find out. After slipping on her shoe, she wiggled her foot to get him started again. Sister Gwendolynn shivered, but not from the cool air. Then she walked happily toward the main tent.

The Preacher Woman
Chapter#6 Becky gets her Toejam, Gwendolynn is curious, Nina plans, and Satana looks ahead


Rebecca and the other young Sisters were getting restless as the ceremony came to a close. The chanting was beautiful, but they were all eager to have some unrestricted time with their new playthings. The closing ceremony had been an anticlimax. Sister Mary had entered and announced that after meditating with the eldest Sisters, It was decided that there would be no sacrifice today. This was unusual, and some of the girls groaned in disappointment. It was traditional that the newly anointed Sisters take part in the sacrifice of a male, but Sister Mary patiently explained that no appropriate men were available today. There were only two types of sacrifice.
Most common were recalcitrant males who rejected the spirit, or who the Goddess found unsuitable. They were ritually crushed and their barren souls sent back to the evil oblivion of Yahweh.
Then there were older fathers or brothers who were exhausted or close to wearing out. Devoted Servants who were deemed ready to take the passage to dwell “under” the spirit of Satana, herself. These were sacrifices in love, and the tired man was usually erotically dispatched, and the warm body consumed by the Sisterhood.
For her part Rebecca felt relieved. Though the concept was intriguing, she did not feel ready to actually take a life, even if it was only a man, who was being sent to his just and ultimate reward. Dispensing the Judgment of Satana was an important part of the Sister’s calling, but Rebecca could not conquer the suspicion that some of the girls relished far too much, the opportunity to perform this duty.
Still, the new Sister Rebecca kept these doubts to herself as the benediction began. Sister Mary, chanting softly in an ancient language knelt in the center of the circle. She then called on the girls to bring forth their brothers. Quickly the young women fumbled into shoes, or panties, and bras. Eighteen little naked boys were placed in the circle. They lay in various poses, flushed, and covered with perspiration or other bodily fluids. None appeared too energetic. It had been a difficult night for them.
Sister Mary stood and deliberately made her way around the circle to issue her blessing. All the boys managed to prostrate themselves as she approached. Becky wondered how they knew to do that. She had certainly not said anything to her little Toejam about it. They must somehow know that this is what is expected. Becky felt some apprehension. The brothers had to obey. Yet she didn't want Jeremy too submissive. Half the fun in playing with him came from overcoming his resistance. She need not have worried.
Jeremy lay there helpless, his mind full of all the ambivalence and confusion that Becky could hope for. He felt compelled to crawl forward as Sister Mary approached. As she chanted far above his tiny body, he sat up and respectfully kissed the toe of her shoe. There was a spot worn in the red leather, where many brothers before him had paid their respects. He could hear muffled squeals from inside her shoe. He paled as he realized that a living man, perhaps even his own father now lay there in anguish. He backed slowly away and shuddered as her mammoth feet moved away. He saw her heel push deep into the blanket where they lay, Thankful at least that he was not under that heel.
Suddenly the long night of ceremony was over. The older Sisters quickly retired to breakfast and then to rest, and the happy young ladies were left to entertain themselves. The trading began, amidst the laughter and chatter.
Becky glanced around at all the still prostrate young boys. She saw several that she knew. The two sets of twins were particularly interesting. They belonged to her friend, Cindy Visconti. Cindy was twenty, and shared several classes with Rebecca. She was a dark quiet girl. Unlike Jolene, her abundant jet-black hair was totally natural. Her four brothers still lay in a row. The older twins were in their early twenties, but the younger ones had only recently turned eighteen. Before, the younger ones had been much taller, but they were now all the same size, and looked more like quadruplets than two sets of identical twins. But Becky had only to glance at their faces to tell them apart. The older ones looked confused, but they obviously were responding to the roomful of aroused teenage girls. They looked ludicrous as they maneuvered to make their miniature erections less obvious. They better get over that modesty fast. Underneath that polite exterior, Cindy was about the strictest girl that she knew, in dealing with her brothers.
Becky knew the younger twins well, having babysat them with Cindy more than once. Only 2 years had separated the babysitters from their charges, but the boy’s immaturity made them seem much younger. They were loud and whiny, but also naive and trusting in a way that Becky found exhilarating. They reminded Rebecca of Jeremy. Becky imagined how it might feel to have those innocent boys crying in her shoes. It was an intoxicating image and she even contemplated trading with Cindy today. But no, she could not allow herself to be distracted. She wanted her little Toejam where she could make his new name the reality.
As expected a crowd gathered around Jeremy. It took Rebecca several minutes to fend off the eager traders. She agreed to all kinds of swaps, but made it clear that today, Jeremy was hers alone.
Jeremy lay on the floor listening. He heard all the comments about how cute and helpless he looked. Finally he felt bold enough to sit up. He spent some time looking back at all the smiling giant teenagers who were trying to get some time with him. He had not really understood what his size meant until he had seen the other boys. He really was a midget compared to the others. It made him feel even more helpless. At last Rebecca scooped up her brother and carried him off to one corner of the tent. There she bent down to whisper to him.
“OK, little Toejam. It’s just the two of us now... Time for you to make me happy. Don’t try to talk now. But I’ll want you to tell me every single detail, later. Now you sit like a good piece of toe jam while I get ready for you.”
With that Jeremy found himself deposited on a hard chair. He watched as his sister removed her shoes and panty hose. Seeing that she had his full attention, she moved about sexily imitating the gyrating movements of a belly dancer. Her frolic ended as she stood over Jeremy and plopped one magnificent bare foot on his chair only an inch from his excited form. He stared up at the distant vista of her now naked sex.
“Like the view tiny? Well you’ve been there already. Right now I have other plans for you.” With that she skipped away from him and deposited her hose in a small bag She rummaged about for a moment, and then pulled out a pair of soiled white socks, the very ones that she had confiscated from her brother earlier that evening. She smiled and waved the dirty socks at her tiny brother. Jeremy’s heart went up to his mouth.
“Now fella, I need that chair. You’ll have to find somewhere else to sit.” With that Becky tipped the chair forward and Jeremy rolled off edge and plummeted toward the ground. He had just launched his shriek when he was silenced by his abrupt thud into the soft earth. More shocked than hurt, Jeremy turned to gawk in confusion at his mischievous owner. Becky suppressed a loud laugh and sat daintily in the chair. She extended one leg and seemed to admire the smooth contour of her calf. Her moist sole hovered well above the tiny boy. Slowly the sole descended, and Jeremy was darkened by the shadow of her foot. Jeremy cringed in fear, and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the crushing pain when the ball of her enormous ped landed on him. But nothing happened. Timidly he peeked up and saw five gigantic toes wriggling barely an inch above his nose.
“ Aww, my little Toejam looks worried. Does he think his big sister would actually stand on him? Nope, not yet anyway. But I sure will. I want you to imagine how it will feel, then after a while, we can check to see if you guessed right. OK? But that’s for much later”
The enormous foot disappeared and Jeremy watched as she pulled one sock over that foot. The sole returned to hover for just a moment. He caught a view of the soiled moist bottom of her sock. Then Becky was ready for the other foot. She paused, deep in thought before she spoke.
“Now brother, you have to be patient with me. I’ve never done this before.” Her bare foot appeared out of nowhere. Her busy toes curled around his delicate frame and pinched him. For several minutes she worked to get him in the position that she wanted. Again, and again her powerful toes enveloped him. He was pushed into the tight crevices, where she would squeeze him into a position comfortable for her. He tried not to struggle, but panic often seized him, and he would fight her desperately for a few seconds. It was hopeless, of course, but his pathetic attempts at flight always drew sighs of delight from his playful sibling. At last she seemed satisfied. He was completely stuffed in to the gaps under her toes. His tiny feet rested under the little toe while his sore dizzy head was lodged between the large and second toes. She compressed him once more, expelling all the air from his lungs, and lifted her foot, suspending Jeremy above the floor. She leaned forward to inspect her handiwork. She observed his red face mashed into the spot she wanted. She took her time before pronouncing it perfect.
Then darkness struck. Her sock passed around him on it’s way over her foot. His ears were filled with the scratchy flesh to cloth sound as the wool slid past him. At last the rough fabric came up to rest against his back. The grey darkness gave way to pitch black as her flat Maryjane shoe now surrounded her sock-clad foot. Jeremy felt a loud disorienting earthquake as her foot came down to the ground. Only then, did those deadly toes release their grip on him. Air rushed into his lungs, and with the air came the smell!
Up till this moment, Jeremy had been far too busy coping with her punishing toes to really notice the smell. Suddenly he could think of nothing else. He was addicted to the fragrance of Becky’s feet, but he didn’t think of it as a pleasant smell. It was just a way of being close to her. Now the odor was multiplied a hundred fold. Soon his whole brain was close to overload as every jagged breath was saturated with her smell- Sour cheesy, sharp and strong. Soon his pale body was racked with waves of nausea, alternating with moments of unbearably intense arousal. The moist heat grew more oppressive. The damp wool of her sock scratched into his flesh, and his every movement drew a painful response from Becky’s toes. Within minutes he was soaked in her perspiration. It was so hot that he felt he was being boiled alive inside her shoe. His nose was jammed into the damp dirty spot between her toes. His face was covered now in the mealy material there. For some reason he could not fathom, he felt a potent need to taste it. Overcoming his own revulsion, he took in a mouthful and began to chew. It was like eating rolled oats flavored with rotten eggs. At first he thought he would choke, but as he swallowed for the first time, he felt strangely calm. He remembered all those times his sister had made him suck her toes. This was still Becky, his sister, and she would tell him what to do, just like always. She would think for both of them. He hoped he was pleasing her. Anything that pleased Becky was good, he thought. And as these thoughts ran feverishly through his brain, he ejaculated, shooting his little wad into the great sea of sweat, and smell, and foot dirt in which he swam. He finally managed a smile in that dark confining place. He could trust Becky. He would be OK.
Becky was almost as excited as her brother. After she put on her shoe she stood silently for several minutes simply feeling the sense of power surge through her. She kneaded the soft warm, helpless body of her brother with her toes. The sensation was incredible. But the awareness of what she was doing was a far greater aphrodisiac. This was real. It was no game. It was no fantasy. Her brother was a tiny quivering mass under her foot. He was hers to use or dispose of as she wished. And it would be this way forever. “Almost like getting married,” she thought, “till death do us part.’
She didn’t know it, but at the very moment she collapsed into the chair to enjoy her own orgasm, Jeremy, her dear little Toejam, reached his own climax. Their new relationship was in a way, consummated.


Sister Gwendolynn was curious. She had seen Sister Kali sweep up the new father and take him away. There was something going on here. Almost everyone had noticed the resemblance between Sister Kali and the new Sister Rebecca. Many had asked her about it, but Sister Kali did not respond. This was not unusual. Sister Kali did not like to talk. She was a woman of action. She liked to kill men.
As long as Gwendolynn had been a part of the group, Kali had been the one designated for the most violent work. She always disposed of the worn out males, if their owners were too sentimental to do the job on their own. It was Kali who went into the community to dispatch the occasional sheriff, or unwise government official who had grown too curious about Sister Mary’s crusade. All the women called her “Kali the destroyer.” And Kali always smiled. She seemed to enjoy her stern nickname. Oh, Kali was polite and considerate with the other Sisters. She never got angry. She laughed at everyone’s jokes. And though the Sisterhood was not big on titles and hierarchy, it was generally known that Kali stood second only to Sister Mary. Only Kali and Sister Mary could tap directly into the power of the Goddess. Only they could bring the spirit out, to allow other Sisters to act as conduits. But there was a brutal quality that seemed to emanate from her that put most of the women off.
Still Gwendolynn was curious. She came close to the door, intent on knocking. She heard the sound of feminine laughter and then the squeaky high-pitched sound that came from their men when they yelled or screamed. Gwendolynn frowned, then turned away. It was rude to interrupt a sister at play. She would never do that, not even to Sister Kali. Suddenly Sister Gwendolynn blushed with guilt over her judgmental attitude. Who was she to judge other Sisters? She remembered Ralphie, who even now languished under her foot. Perhaps he was ready for that drink of water? Yet as she wandered off to her own room, Gwendolynn wondered again who that new father might be with Kali. Whoever he was, she certainly did not envy him.
********************


Daylight was approaching and Nina was wide-awake. She sat by the side of her bed, deep in thought. Her still-shod foot rested on the carpet. Ernie remained inside the shoe.
She could tell that Her fiancé, or her ex-fiancé was not happy in his new home. She considered her options. With his attitude the Goddess would certainly never accept him. That would be disappointing. Now he was indeed her toy, but a kind of defective toy- one that she could not play with all the ways she wanted. But how to break down his resistance?
After some time a plan began to form in her mind. She stood and made for the storage pantry. There she found a large plastic storage bag. She inserted her foot and shoe into the bag, and then closed the opening against her ankle. An old shoelace then circled the bag and was tied like a tourniquet. It was not quite a watertight seal, but it would do. Then she walked awkwardly toward the shower and began her normal morning routine.
Later, after her shower, she donned her police blues, but wore slacks and not the usual skirt. She drew a knee-high stocking onto her clean left foot, and stepped into her shoe. At last, she sat and untied the string on the other ankle, and removed her foot from the bag. The grimy toes in that shoe suddenly clenched around Dr. Grady’s skull forming a fleshy vice-like grip on his head. Nina withdrew him from the shoe, and stared in fascination as he dangled from her wet toes. She then reached out and grasped his stomach between her thumb and forefinger. Then she squeezed again and again, with as much force as two fingers could muster. Finally a few tiny drops of liquid shot out from his little penis. Nina smiled, and quickly enclosed both man and dirty foot in another short stocking. Then she laughed and began to speak to the soft lump that lived under her sole.
“Well Honey, I hope you enjoyed you little bathroom break. You may not get another for some time. I figure that a week or two in the same dirty stocking, under the same stinky foot, and in the same smelly old shoe will get your attention. I think it will get so intense in there that you will just forget there was ever anything else to life besides the hot smell of my feet. You’ve got to get used to it before you learn to love it. You know how hot these shoes are, so you’ll get plenty to drink. And there’s some gooey stuff I bet between my toes, just in case you get hungry. Yea, and I don’t think I’ll be talking to you for a few days. I wouldn’t want to distract my little man with idle chat. But don’t worry baby. I’ll be thinking about dear crush boy every step along the way. So here comes the shoe. It’s a long walk to city hall.”

********************

In the limitless ether outside the physical universe The Goddess Satana tried to discern what was happening on Earth. Working around the obstructions of Yahweh was difficult. Yet, She was patient. She touched the minds of those who came to seek her.
Through the ages exceptional women, driven by needs they could not even name, sought truth beyond the physical. Their spirits soared and searched, and found Satana. They found the Truth. They recognized that they were truly the earthly angels of the creatrix, and not the servants of the male beasts of Yahweh.
But even an enlightened, determined woman, was still alone. Only in the last few human lifetimes, as her angels found each other, and formed hidden sanctuaries to the Goddess, did Satana get a clearer vision of the earth. She could now behold her creation through ten thousand faithful eyes. What her mind witnessed made her sad, and then wrathful. It was a world of machines. The male beasts of Yahweh were in charge. They used and degraded the very beings they were created to serve. All this while the cults of Yahweh, (or Allah, or Jehovah, or whatever name he used) made their false gospels into a profane mockery of her Truth.
But her sanctuaries multiplied, and the little islands of enlightenment grew. Satana sensed that she was becoming stronger. She could work through the minds of all the angels, who came to her. Before long she, Satana, would be strong enough to enter the physical world, as Yahweh had done countless times over the centuries. She would take on the form of invulnerable angelic flesh. Then the minions of Yahweh would submit, or cease to exist. Then even Yahweh would face the heavy, merciless heel of her justice. Even now, she sought among her converts, for a suitable pattern. A model for the gargantuan Satana that would soon bestride the earth wield the infinite power of her vengeance..
You must login (register) to review.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.