Iris sat in the front of row of the pews, giving Pastor Fred a steady, mischievous smirk as she watched him sweat and stutter behind his altar. She caught every guilty glimpse he stole at her feet, which she dangled and swung deliberately in blue, high-heel sandals with silver threads for straps. Her pedicured toenails shone with matching blue polish, and her long bare legs were crossed at the knee. She was tall and muscular. She had on a blue skirt and a thin gray shirt with a hood that fell in loose billows about her wrists and lower waist. Her hair was a dark and fiery auburn. Her makeup was subtle. Her face was already beautiful in a simple way, only accepting a slight rouging of the lips and a darkening about the eyes, which shone with piercing, yet playful, iciness. No one had seen the young woman before, or at least hadn't recognized her from the bewildering T.V. reports, which most considered an elaborate, if not extremely distasteful, hoax. Iris had appeared late, after the main sermon had already started, and so everyone had seen her saunter down the middle aisle of the benches.
It was a not an especially large church, the two rows of pews capable of holding a combined 200 people if every bit of bench space was taken, and on most Sundays it rarely held a quarter that number. Today was an exception, and there were sixty-one people in attendance. The roof was a single gable, two stories above their heads, and imitation stained glass windows lined the walls. At the front of the congregation, behind Pastor Fred, was a fiberglass life-size statue of the crucified Christ, coated in bronze paint.
Suddenly, as if having heard enough to satisfy her, Iris stood. She winked at Jeff, pulled her large sunglasses over her eyes, and strutted back down the hardwood-floored aisle, her heels echoing loudly over his sermon. Fred wiped his face with a handkerchief and hid a sigh of relief. He made sure not to move from behind the altar, else he reveal his slowly dwindling erection, and focused on his sermon.
About five minutes after the double doors swung shut behind Iris, the earthquakes began. Imperceptible at first, the regular shuddering thuds soon began to elicit troubled glances, and by the time a water-filled vase of freshly plucked flowers fell off the offering table and smashed into pieces, there were cries of alarm.
"Now now, calm yourselves people!" Fred called. "Let us pray for protection from the Lo-"
The massive shuddering boom sent him to his knees. People scurried under the benches. For a several tense seconds, there was no movement, no sound. Then with a deafening crash the roof was torn from the church, revealing the heavens. Then the people beheld that which was now towering above both their beloved statue of Christ, and the collapsed figure of their Pastor.
Iris smirked down at them.
Screams of terror erupted from the congregation.
She casually tossed the roof and steeple aside. The walls of the church rose only just below her knees. "DON'T RUN AWAY NOW," she said, walking around to the other side of the church where the doors were, each footfall earthshaking. She reached down into the parking lot and picked up a handful of cars and piled them outside the main doors. Then she circled back around to the side of the church. She pulled her shades up onto her head and surveyed the little box of people she had captured. Then she swung one leg lazily over the wall and planted her foot with an earthshaking *boom* in the middle aisle. All the colored windows shattered and fell like leaves.
The churchgoers stared up in awe at the new feminine monolith of creamy skin, blue shining leather, and sparkling silver. The mountain of powerful flesh that was her heel rested on top of the shoe's slender pillar a few feet higher than their tallest heads, and thus the flesh of her wrinkled sole overhung insolently from the dainty curves of the thin shoe, in plain view of everyone there.
"I'M GOD NOW," she said.
This was met with petrified silence.
She continued, "SO YOU BETTER ALL KISS MY FOOT OR I'LL CRUSH YOU." She pointed a slender, blue-polished finger at Fred. "STARTING WITH YOU, PASTOR PERVERT. I KNOW YOU WANT TO, SO GET TO IT. I WANT TO FEEL YOUR LIPS ON MY TOES."
Fred, his consciousness having crumbled, now reacted to basic instincts of fear and lust. Shaking and sweating, he crawled on his hands and knees down the altar and sped along the aisle until he reached the tip of the great shoe. He puckered his lips and leaned forward.
"IF YOU KISS IT, YOU'LL FORSAKE YOUR OLD GOD," Iris says.
Fred froze. Some ingrained spirit told him to rebel. It was the fear of God beaten into him from childhood. "N... No," he said.
Iris tapped her massive foot a few times, setting the whole place trembling. She leaned down and said, "DO IT. SAY YOU RENOUNCE HIM."
"I renounce Jesus Christ!" he said.
"KISS."
He pecked lovingly at her largest toe.
"MORE. I CAN BARELY FEEL YOU."
Fred pressed his eager, moist lips against the round flesh and laid kisses down the row of massive digits.
"GOOD," Iris said, and pinched him up between her fingers. Then she pressed him down onto the fiberglass cross, impaling him. More screams erupted from the crowd. Fred twitched from then on, bug eyed and breathless, while his blood ran down the statue and slowly re-coated the bronzed Jesus.
"ANYONE WHO DOESN'T RENOUNCE THEIR OLD FAITH AND WORSHIPS MY FOOT LIKE I TELL THEM TO GETS SQUISHED."
A crowd of people scrabbled forward and planted their lips on the succulent flesh of her foot. A resolute few stood firm. Iris gave them the eye.
"We'll never forsake our Lord and Savior. He'll cast you into hell, daemon!" An old woman said. Iris lifted her great foot from the lips of her converted and casually pressed it down on the old lady. There was a shriek interrupted by a wet crunch, and the old woman's blood spattered the walls. From the crowd came more screams and gasps. Some vomited under the pews.
Iris softly wiggled her foot a little bit back and forth, and then replaced it in the aisle. "ANYONE ELSE?" She said.
There was a rush of more bodies to her shoe, and they laid their kisses upon her flesh. Iris smiled at their touch.
But there were still a few infidels lay huddled under the benches. One young man came forth and approached her heel, and said, "If I give my body to you, will you spare these few who would rather die serving their lord than you?"
Iris stared down at him with no hint of emotion. "I WANT YOUR SOUL, TOO."
The man sighed, and then said "I am willing to sacrifice my body and my soul to protect the lives of these innocent people. They have families and children to supp-"
"GET ON YOUR HANDS AND KNEES."
The man did as he was bid.
Iris lifted the great pillar of her heel. "NOW CRAWL FORWARD."
Hesitantly the man did so.
"SAY YOU FORSAKE YOUR LITTLE GOD AND SURRENDER YOUR SOUL TO ME, YOUR GODDESS."
"I forsake the lord god, and hereby give my soul to this 'Goddess'."
Iris pressed her heel down through his spine, and the man gargled and splayed his arms, eyes bulging and blood spurting. The crowd gasped, and those few still in the pews shuddered with tears. Iris raised her heel again, and the little man impaled on it also rose, his hands and legs flailing weakly. She then raised her whole foot, and lowering her heel to the floor in another location, pressed her sole down into the benches. They splintered and crunched and the people underneath turned to goo that stuck to her sole along with splinters of wood. The bloody paste was clearly evident to the congregation when she lifted her foot again and swung over it over them lazily, for so great was her size that she could place it anywhere in the church without moving her other leg. She brought it down on another section of benches from which underneath came screams and, after the crunches, was followed by great gushes of blood and viscera, for her foot had dropped at such an angle as to squash the little people out from the side of it. The crowd was coated with blood.
The last three people hiding bolted then for the doors. They scrabbled and clawed and beat at the sealed gates but they wouldn't open.
"BRING THOSE PEOPLE HERE," Iris ordered to her worshippers.
Her flock encircled the desperate non-believers, trapping them against the the doors from which they sought escape, and fell upon them. They dragged the three people backward kicking and screaming and tossed them in a heap in front of her shoe.
"GET THIS ONE OFF ME TOO, AND PUT HIM WITH THE REST," she said, raising her heel again.
Her followers peeled the young man, who had had risen several feet up the shaft of the heel during the cleansing, off with a *slurp*, and tossed him onto the pile, where he moaned and twitched.
Iris raised her mighty shoe over the wretched lump and said, "BEG FORGIVENESS," and lowered her foot so that they might kiss the gore-ridden sole.
"Please forgive us Goddess! They moaned and cried.
"KISS THE SHOE.
They pressed their lips into the bloody pulp, staining their faces and their mouths.
"I FORGIVE YOU," Iris said, and smirking, slowly pressed her foot down to the floor as the four sinners underneath protested and wept and then smushed, the sudden gushing surrender of their slick insides causing her foot to slip forward down the aisle several feet. She adjusted her weight, the muscles in her foot flexing, and then she drew it back, spreading the greasy stain all up the aisle.
Presently there were the sounds of sirens and megaphones outside the doors of the church, and Iris glanced in that direction as if looking noticing a fly. She smiled calmly. "STAY PUT," she ordered her followers, and then her mighty shoe rose into the sky once more and she was gone.
There followed several earthquakes, accompanied by the crunching of metal, the cracks of gunshot, and the screams of men. Eventually all was silent, no sirens or megaphones left, and the Goddess reappeared before her flock. She sported an easy, satisfied smile, as she lazily swept her leg back over the wall of the church, letting them all see the new layer of gristle embedded on the holy sole, this time spotted with blue uniforms and shards of car metal. She let her heel rest on the ground, but kept the massacre painted on her sole raised so that all could reach it. "STRIP NAKED, ALL OF YOU. USE YOUR CLOTHES AS RAGS AND CLEAN MY SHOE."
Shuddering, they got to it, those who had not fainted away or convulsed in sickness. There were still a little about fifty of them to do the job. They formed a line and tossed all the mashed limbs, soaking uniforms, lengths of intestines and bits of scrap metal they peeled off her shoe into a small pile in the corner. Women came with buckets of water from the bathrooms to wash out the rags of clothing so the others could keep cleaning the shoe. Whenever anyone would collapse from exhaustion or mental failure, (mostly the elderly), Iris would step on them, and then that person too would have to be cleaned off. Eventually the task was all over and they stretched and wiped their brows while Iris lifted her leg to inspect the shoe.
"GOOD," she said, and put her foot down again, this time on some benches, causing people leap out of the way. Then, for the first time, she lifted her other leg and swept it gracefully into the church. She let it rest as the first one had, with the sole raised revealing the aftermath of the carnage. "THIS ONE NOW."
The people sighed silently but got to it immediately. Their Goddess stood patiently, her legs close together and one foot raised. The gore-pile grew, as did their casualties, and their limbs and hearts wearied, but then this trial too was finished.
"GOOD JOB," she said. "NOW TAKE THEM OFF FOR ME."
The little people, with great respect, clambered over the soft skin of her revered feet, using the gentle ridges of her veins and tendons to climb up to the sanctity of her ankle, where they managed to undo the clasp of the silver straps that freed her feet. They felt almost guilty when they beheld her feet, now naked from the thin chains of her blessed shoes (even though the shoes had hid next to nothing). So then, when she lifted her feet from her shoes and they witnessed the glorious wrinkled soles above their heads, they felt that they should tear out their eyeballs at the sight, for the soles were so divinely consecrated and overwhelmingly sexual in their impudence. The people below them felt such a tearing of their spirits between lust, shame, unworthiness and devotion, that they longed to lay their bodies beneath her in forgiveness for being in their presence. In this they were right.
With long, lazily graceful motions, Iris pulled her clothes off. She tossed them aside, and went to sit down in the church.
Fred twitched and gaped one last time as the massive cheek came down upon him. The fiberglass statue broke apart and crumbled beneath her, as did Fred, to be mashed, unnoticed, into paste beneath her rear as she settled on the floor.
She leaned lightly against the back wall, and rested her arms on top of the side walls, in a pose like she was relaxing in a warm bath. Her knees were drawn up comfortably, exposing the wanton pink folds of her pussy. She wiggled her toes and raised them, revealing the soft, inviting undersides of her feet, which had become such powerful symbols of her divine power. "COME," she said, smiling. "PLEASE ME." Her flock approached timidly. She raised her pointed foot, and they stopped in fright with the wrinkled sole once more above them, but she merely chuckled and, pushing lightly with her toes, she split up the group of roughly forty-five into thirds, and then herded them in the appropriate directions: one third to each foot, and one to her pussy. Once the people were in position, she gently laid the soles of her feet down onto them, and sighed contentedly at the feeling, and both physically and symbolically. She pressed lightly, teasingly, enjoying the feeling of their bodies squirming in panic beneath her. "MASSAGE MY FEET. WORSHIP THEM."
Then she turned her focus to the group that was huddled in the shadow of arched legs, trembling before the massive pink curtains of her sex. She lifted her hood with two fingers and, pinching up one person from the crowd with her other hand, deposited him on her clit. "GET TO WORK, YOU." As the slight motions began, she leaned her back and smiled softly. Then she put her hand down like a wall behind the group of little people before her, and shoved them gently up against her. They clumped together, and she rubbed them all up along her lips, and they tumbled from the sides to the floor where she drew them up again and again. Soon she was dripping wet, and her grin spread wider as they all were baptized in her holy juices. She rubbed her feet back and forth as gently as she dared, teasing herself, and she groaned slightly when one or two accidentally slipped under her heel and pulped.
Eventually, she spread her nether lips with one hand and pushed a random follower deep into the slippery pink walls, gasping as her finger went in up to the knuckle. She shivered, and flexed her toes in delight. She pressed another one in, and then another, clenching her vaginal muscles lightly in barely suppressed self control, not to crush the ones insider her just yet. Her nipples were rigid, and she withdrew her hands from her cleft, leaving a few behind to rub at her lower lips. She pinched and twisted at her nipples for while, her eyes closed and face twitching, biting her lower lip. Then for as long she could, she let her hands grip the walls of the church, and focused on all the tiny sensations about her divine body. "UNFF, WORSHIP ME!"
Finally, when she couldn't stand it any longer, she pushed the few of her flock left at her pussy deep inside herself, and gasping, started pumping her fingers in and out after them. She cried out in ecstasy then, her head thrown back, and orgasmed. Her chest heaved and unable, to hold back any longer, she ground her feet into the floor and felt all the followers under her soles smush beneath her and smear, and this made her scream again and her pussy clench, and she felt a fresh flood of warmth mingling with the flow of juices already inside her as her little devotees squished.
Several minutes later, she sighed and collapsed backward. The wall gave way underneath her and she lay on the ground with her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath.
Eventually she raised her head and regarded the little huddle of figures on the ground in her underarm. She plucked the tallest of them up in her fingers, who was the Sunday school teacher, and popped her into her mouth. She pushed her around with her tongue, feeling the clumsy struggles and hearing her screams, before she flicked her under her molars and crunched her. She swallowed the juices and said "YOU KIDS CAN GO," addressing the class, "BUT REMEMBER THIS. I'M WATCHING YOU." She winked, and then stood up. She stretched her arms into the sky, and then walked over to her spotlessly clean shoes, into which she slipped her bloodstained feet and fastened the delicate silver threads. Then stepped out of the remains of the church and grew, until she was large enough that with one foot she crushed all three remaining walls into the earth and ground them to dust beneath her shoe, before walking away contentedly.
Giantess World
