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Great thuds in the distance shook the ground.
Artillery! Take cover! Scharfürher Weißmann frantically commanded. The twenty-seven men all complied in near-panic,stumbling off the dirt road and into the ditches on either side. Not that they had much choice. It was well-known that staying in the open would be suicide. Weißmann also wasted no time, and slid into the mud beside Erik Krieger, a young rifleman from his squad. They both braced for the impact.
It never came. Instead, more thumps came from the distance.
Stay down everyone! shouted Hugo Hertz, another scharfürher.
But again, the shells never landed. There were no explosions anywhere around the group, and no reports in the air.
Does anyone hear them landing? Björn Stiglitz, a rottenfürher, asked of the group.
No one answered in the affirmative. The group relaxed a bit after a few minutes, but remained wary; the thuds continued, but there were never any explosions to answer.
About ten minutes after first notice of the sounds, Krieger turned to Weißmann.
Um, Scharfürher, are they getting closer?
Weißmann listened intently. A flash of visible astonishment dashed across his face. They were getting closer. Quickly.
The ground shook. Trees toppled not far off. The sounds got ever closer. All of the sudden, they saw it. A massive figure appeared over the top of the trees. Her hair was black and shoulder-length with slight waves. She wore simple clothing; a yellow-brown set of blouse and trousers, with an incredibly large red star emblazoned across the field cap on her head. On her feet were boots similar to the style worn by the Red Army, but more feminine. A satchel hung from her hip, held by a strap across her chest.
She stepped onto the road, looking down to it with a moderately triumphant look on her face. Returning her attention to where she was going, the giant woman began walking down the road toward the group of soldiers. The very earth seemed to tremble as she got closer, and reached the height of its crescendo as she unknowingly stepped over the men. Down below, the warriors watched in fearful awe as her mighty boot ascended and flew through the air, only to crash back down some way behind them.
It was too much for one soldier. He scrambled out of the ditch and ran down the road in the opposite direction, frantically screaming as he did so. The giantess snapped around. Seeing the man, an evil smile crossed her face. Before the rest of the group knew what was happening, the woman had bolted over and used two fingers to grab the man by his helmet. Slowly, she lifted him up as she rose to her full height. The man hung there from his helmet, held only by the strap which was now digging into his throat. He struggled to lift himself up in order to fill his lungs with life-saving air. The woman held him in-front of her face. She smiled villainously as she said something in Russian, her hot, moist breath billowing over the man. Seconds later, there was a metallic pop and the man fell through the air, flailing all the way. He hit the ground with a sickening thud. The giantess dropped the helmet, now without a strap, beside him and moved her foot over his body. She lowered her boot, crushing the man with a squelch and a crunch, and slowly ground the remains.
Weißmann aimed his MP40 at her face. He, like the others, was astounded at what was happening. However, serving on the Ostfront for a few years tends to make one react without thinking when danger is involved.
Angrief! he shouted as he opened fire. Following suite, the men of the group took aim and began firing. The giantess shielded her face from the barrage of hot lead, and stumbled a bit in confusion from the surprise attack. She quickly retaliated, though, kicking a machine-gunner who had the misfortune of being too close. His body flew through the air and crashed into a tree. The giant woman yelled another phrase in Russian. She stomped around, flattening unfortunate soldiers beneath her powerful boots, killing them indiscriminately. She noticed a rifleman fumbling with his Kar98k, trying desperately to un-jam it. She snatched him from the ground and dropped him into her satchel. As if realizing that this was a better idea than simply killing them, she began doing this with every soldier. As she moved to a more central location and dropped into a predatory stance, her massive foot crashed onto one of the ditches, almost completely flattening it.
They had almost been snuffed out without even a thought. Weißmann and Krieger had lain down just in time to avoid getting their heads pulverized by the descending boot. Lying on their backs, they stared up at the sole, whose treads were dangerously close to their faces. Clumps of blood-soaked dirt rained down as the woman shifted to gather their comrades.
Scharfürher, Krieger whimpered, I don't want to die here.
Weißmann tore his eyes from the treacherous footwear above them and looked at his charge.
Be brave! Your name is Krieger for God's sake. he said between adrenaline-fueled breaths.
Besides, no matter how you die, so long as you're a member of the Schutzstaffel, you'll have died serving Germany.
Krieger nodded, but was unconvinced.
Above, the woman finished rounding up the rest of the men. She selected one at random from her bag and held him to her face by his chest. Her cold eyes stared at him, her glee barely concealed behind a guise of anger.
Do you speak Russian? she asked in German.
N... Nein.
That's a shame. I don't often get to speak with anyone, and I would have preferred to speak in something at least close to my native tongue.
She stopped looking at the man and seemed to address the entire forest.
Are there any more Germans out there? Show yourselves and I'll be more inclined towards mercy.
The men beneath her looked at each other when they heard her command. Weißmann tried to think about the situation, but the sound of her toes slowly rubbing the insole far above them wasn't helping. He came to the only conclusion he could think of. He started shoveling mud onto the Shütze beside him.
Krieger, cover yourself in mud. I'm going to turn myself in. When she's distracted, get out of here. Find a way back and report what has happened.
Scharfürher, I can't just-
That's an order, Krieger.
The young man swallowed hard, and began rubbing mud on himself. Weißmann nodded in a solemn manner.
It's been an honor, he said, and crawled out from under the foot of the Red Goddess.
She was getting impatient.
One more chance, Germans. If you're out th-
Down here, Frau Russ! Weißmann called as he got to his feet. He put his hands up to show that he was unarmed.
The giantess looked down at him, once again displaying an evil grin.
Ah, there's one, and an officer at that. Looks like I won't be needing you, she said to the soldier still in her hand. She grasped one of his legs with the thumb and index finger of her other hand and snapped it back sharply, as one would a twig. The man screamed in agony. The woman bent around and placed him on the ground behind her.
No, no, please! the man pleaded. He briefly gazed above him in terror before trying in vain to crawl away.
Now is Krieger's chance, Weißmann thought. When she lifts her foot, he can just run. She'll be too occupied with her sadistic display to notice him.
However, the lady had other plans. Rather than lift her foot, she turned back around. She looked over her shoulder and gave the broken man a girlish smile. Her rear descended. The man had just enough time to look back. The massive mustard-colored field stretched as her flesh pulled it tight. He screamed. Her left cheek fell on him, leaving the soldier as nothing but a red stain on her pants.
Now sitting, the Red Lady plucked Weißmann from his position near her left foot. Like the others, she held him to her face.
So, she started,What are all you boys doing out here.
We were part of a Kampfgruppe put together for deep reconnaissance. We were ambushed, and our commanding officer was killed and radios were destroyed along with most of our maps and other equipment. We've been trying to find our way back. Though his heart was beating through his chest, Weißmann spoke surprisingly well for the the position he was in.
Aww, a little homesick are we? the giantess mocked concern. Maybe you should have thought of that before you invaded my homeland.
We are not the bosses, Frau Russ, but the workers. If you let these men and myself go, I will personally do anything I must to see to it that the Fürher stops the invasion.
Save your empty promises for the whores of Berlin, Scharfürher. I know you have no such power, she stated, suddenly growing more serious.
I, of course, keep my promises. I told you I'd be merciful. Though I'd like nothing more than to bite your head off and leave your body for the wolves, I'm not going to kill you. Yet.
She placed him back on the ground.
Take your clothes off.
With only a second's hesitation, Weißmann stripped. First his jacket was removed. Then he took off his field gear. He had lost his hat while under the woman's foot, so his field-gray tunic and trousers came off next. With every article removed his sense dignity, and his body temperature, dropped. He untied and stepped out of jackboots, and finally removed his undergarments. Scharfürher Friedhelm Weißmann stood in the chilly Russian air, stripped of clothes, dignity, and pride. His feet sank into the mud, further adding to his misery. The giantess looked down at him in amusement.
Is your sausage only that long, Kraut? she said and playfully nudged him with her boot. Oh, I see. It's longer when it's warm. Let me give you some help.
She pulled her foot closer and untied her boot. She pulled socked her foot out and slid it over to Weißmann. Heat radiated from the wool, even with it being nearly saturated with her sweat. Her smell contaminated the air. She had obviously worn these socks and boots for an extended amount of time.
Kiss it and I'll warm you up.
Weißmann weighed his options. Warm or cold, he was still under her complete control. He leaned forward and buried his face into the soaked wool clinging to her big toe. All he could taste and smell was her sweat, but her heat made his face the warmest it had been in days. After a few seconds, she pulled her foot away.
It's very warm. Don't you like being warm?
She removed her sock, and picked up Weißman with her other hand. She held him over the mouth of the sock before dropping him in. The soldier fell into the wool tube, tasting, smelling, and rolling in her sweat, but also warming up. The toe section caught him. Luckily, he remained mostly unharmed.
The lady peeked in one last time before tying a knot to close off the top of the sock. She stuffed the sock back into her boot, following it with her foot. She pushed the wool-and-German bundle down to the front of the shoe, underneath the arch of her toes. Before tying her knots and sealing the poor soldier inside, the giantess made sure she could feel him squirm beneath her. The woman squeezed him and grinned.
Now, who's next? she asked, looking into her satchel.
Giantess World
Story Notes:
I was originally intending for this to only be one chapter, but I decided to split it into two just so I could publish earlier.
Author's Chapter Notes:
This chapter contains foot and butt crush, footwear, humiliation, and entrapment, as well as violence and destruction.
Chapter End Notes:
The rest will come soon. As always, please rate and comment. I welcome criticism and tips. Danke schön.