Hello Kitty (Part 1)


From an early age, big-boned Kitty had found the little creepy-crawlies in the garden a wonderful playground for her pent-up frustrations. Pathetic, writhing beings - what a fitting substitute they were for hated teachers, parents and classmates. She would later vividly remember these Summer nights of her childgood, which she spent largely developing a secret life in which she reigned supreme over hordes of tiny, wriggling creatures, destroying them energetically under her little-girl shoes; this ant here a headmaster, this beetle here a neigbour, all crunching crisply beneath her cruel soles.
This pastime had not become less appealling a she grew older - in fact, it grew into more of a fixation, and as her awareness heightened she found herself deriving immense sexual satisfaction from her activities. She was, at this stage, a tall child, not fat, but large and with the promise of a voluptuous figure. Her blue eyes were large and kittenish against the dark glossy backdrop of her hair. Sometimes she wanted to be thin, waiflike, but at the same time felt a thrill of domination when her large shoe transferred all her bodyweight onto a snail or beetle. She wanted more of it. Later, when she discovered masturbation, the forbidden pleasure of rubbing her little wet clit, she soon found that indulging in her secret vice amplified the pleasure, made her want to rub harder and faster until she was panting, simultaneously grinding her victims into the carpet under a bare foot or shoe. She began to experiment as she grew older. After gym, a class she hated because of the lascivious old instructor, it was so pleasing, so dirty, to remove a sweaty, hot foot from her pump and plant it down on a scurrying roach... she would rub it down firmly, imagine her gym instructor being suffocated and rolled around under her vast ripe toes. She would slide her fingers into her panties, sneering, teasing the victim, until she could wait no longer for the kill and smash it under her young heel as she climaxed, grinding it into a sticky mess of carapace and goo. She would have loved to feel the real teacher, that dirty old man, crunching like so many bugs - his little squeaky cries, his body being slowly flattened. She took to collecting bugs in the garden whenever she could and transforming them into representatives of people she disliked, and gave the executions a nasty edge by teasing and tormenting with her hands, mouth and feet. Kitty often longed for a growth serum, or a way of shrinking her victims down to size... it would be so much better to play with teeny, tiny little people, but her imagination was vivid.
Tonight, the older, much larger Kitty, with her powerful curves and bright catlike eyes, was ready for some carnage. She had come home from work annoyed by her colleagues only to experience the dual irritation of her neighbours, the Andersons, complaining about where she parked her car. Mr. Anderson was just a prudish fool, but Mrs. Anderson, with her thick-rimmed glasses and piercing voice... oh, how I'd love to crush you both, pound you to dust, thought Kitty, while smiling vacantly at the pair of old fools. Now her desires were reaching fever pitch. Her full, wide lips were reddenning, and her clitoris began to buzz as she got into the house, imagining how the neighbours would react if she planted her whole damn foot outside their driveway. Yeah, little ones, how'd you like that? She could almost feel her body growing, or the world around her shrinking, until she looked out of her patio windows and saw not a myriad of insects outside, but the inhabitants of her block, the Andersons, the Smiths, just begging to be flattened.
Although she would use most things unlucky enough to be small and wriggly as she imaginged people would be - snails, worms, crickets, even tadpoles and butterflies - it was with ants that she still liked to play most often, along with woodlice and crickets, under the pretense of pest control. They made her feel so enormous with their puny, easily squashed bodies. Oh, she loved ants, all right, and they were going to really feel her love tonight.
She was opening the patio doors now, smiling in anticipation. If the ants swarming beneath her had indeed been humans, they would now surely be scattering, screaming in terror - for towering over them was a massive woman, now naked save for her shoes, regarding them with cruel and eager disdain. She stepped out quickly and walked to the ant's nest she knew to exist under a large plant pot, pushed it over, and slammed her whole left foot down into the mass of small dark bodies, crushing many in with the dirt, and pulling out ever so slowly. In response, the whole nest seemed to come alive, sending vast crowds of panicked insects swarming over the patio, as well as some disoriented woodlice. That's right, she thought, better run.
'Except,' she said out loud, smiling sweetly, 'there's no escape.'
First, she just walked back and forth across the hard patio, causally, deliberately - she felt and heard the crunching of tiny forms as they were pulped beyond recognition between concrete and hard sole. These were her her favourite shoes for rampaging - high, almost stiletto heels, but a big wide base under the ball of her foot through which she could feel the destruction. She looked down, appreciating the cruel authority of her feet as she lifted, planted down, lifted. Wasted bodies caked off, flattened, falling back to the ground. Her nipples hardened. These little ants were no-one in particular to her, just citizens, a crowd of tiny worthless beings she might crush without noticing, not even worth a stomp or grind.
Coming back in full circle to the nest, her imagination had taken over. This was her block, overflowing with stupid creatures she wanted to mash. She knelt down, feeling a definite crunch beneath her hosed knees, and reached down into the milling, panicked insects with her long nails. She extracted two wriggling ants clenched between the hard, manicured edges of her finger and thumb nails.
'Hmmm, who could you be?' she said, narrowing her eyes, as if trying to make out tiny faces.
'Why, it's Mr. and Mrs. Anderson!'
She dropped them into her palm, and held them up at eye level, her eyes glinting, while her other hand approached with a forefinger outstretched. 'Now, Mrs. A, don't worry. Just a social call from your friendly neighborhood giantess. Now, watch this.'
She smiled down calmly, the pupils of her deep blue eyes dilate with arousal. 'Watch him squish,' she said dreamily as her fingertip pressed the unfortunate Mr. Anderson surrogate into her palm, crushing it with a small, crisp pop. Removing the stained finger after lingering a moment, she raised her palm over her head and tipped both the live and the wasted body into her gaping, wide, tender mouth, pausing to feel the delightful tiny squiggle of the live one as it struggled automatically for survival in the hot, moist cavern. Kitty played with it on her tongue, rolling it against the wrinkled roof of her mouth, imagining not an ant's legs but Mrs. Anderson's tiny, flailing limbs, how her tiny spiked shoes would come off as she kicked her spindly legs. Kitty's hand travelled hown to her panties, rubbed her wet clit as she finally popped the ant against her teeth using her tongue, moaning suddenly as her belly and pussy warmed in response.
She made sure the remains of her neighbours found their way between her white teeth to be crushed between them until the bodies were too wasted to yield further pleasurable crushing sensations. She swallowed with relish, imagining the couple's remains doomed to burn in her belly, and surveyed the tiny milling presences on the ground beneath her.
'Say Hello, Kitty,' she murmured.