I hadn't done a damn thing to earn even a remote form of punishment, let alone one so heinous as this.  But Lillian was unshakable, and she thought otherwise.  I had no chance to argue against her judgement, no hope to fight her, no way to ever escape her, hell none of us do.  If you could measure cunning and cruelty by one's beauty, then Lillian was well, boner-raging gorgeous.  That, and completely deadly to any man so unfortunate to fall within her gaze.  
    Her eyes were oft enough to break a man down to his knees that he might never rise again, but what ultimately finished the job was the soles of her dreaded feet.  Mant killers, ball breakers, the damn walking apocalypse, call them whatever you want.  The fact of the matter is her feet were weapons to be feared.  And not only in my own peers, men of tiny origin thrown into a world full of giantesses, but also her own kind had reason to tremble before them.  How many times was it spoken about how a giantess would challenge or displease Lillian only to find herself completely overpowered.  Physically, magically, it didn't matter Lillian was always vastly superior and the lesser giantess would often end with her own head bursting under Lillian's crushing step.  
    I however would never be stupid enough to challenge her, and even if I did find myself feeling so drunken foolish one day what the hell good would it do?  I'm not even one, one-hundredth of her size and standing up to her means being lucky to even see over her instep.  
    She loves to play these mind-games with us, it must really give her a thrill because she's gotten so bloody good at it.  Line us up before her feet, stripped to our boxers and feeling like we're fixed before the firing squad then just standing there and waiting.  The rules're simple, outlast the other men and you'll be the last one to die.  Fun isn't it?  She bathes us in the soul crushing aura of her presence and lets the furnace radiating from her opressive feet sweat us into heat exaustion.  You collapse and she crushes you.  Outlast a man and you get to listen to his body as it snaps and cracks to pieces beneath her toes.  Run and you'll die screaming, and if you break down from how damn hopeless it all is you'll only be granting her crushing you into the dirt with that smug look of victory she so enjoys.  

Yeah well you guessed it, I was today's biggest loser.  Bested five other men to get here, bloody lucky of me and bugger me to hell.

"Tomorrow, these boots will become your home.  I intend to wear them, with you inside of them of course, and I'll keep you there until the heat, the pressure of my steps, and that horrible, horrible friction you'll be enjoying under the naked ball of my foot melts your body away.  I'll break you down slowly, at first, but as the day moves on more and more of you will succumb to my weight.  I really hope you enjoy it, in there, just you and me.  A real treat for you, and it can only happen once."

    Lillian had left me alone with those words, suspended on the edge of a dresser, overlooking the very boots she intended to end my life in come the morning.  I knew it was going to end in some way like this even as I was made to start that stupid game.  But knowing it doesn't make the reality any easier.  I'm not even sure what it was that had compelled me to want to win that ridiculous game in the first place.  Just a silly act of defiance.  For a long time now I've known better than to get used to anybody, let alone ever think of anyone as a friend.  I've seen too many end up in horrible ways, some right in front of me.  So while I was aquainted with the guys standing beside me in that line it's not like I actually knew them.  After a while the screams all sound the same anyway.  It was easy to outlast them when you think about it like that.
    I remember my family had screamed too, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.  Was it six, seven, ten years ago?  I can't recall anymore.  It's been a very long nightmare.  Well, must have been that very longetivity that delivered me to Lillian I kinda suspect.  She has this knack for sniffing out an old, tortured soul like mine.  Hell, I bet she even knew I was going to win that game.  Likely she had made the whole thing as just another way to pour salt on me.  But I'm hollow now, and have been for a long time.  Even so, the thought of roasting to death beneath her foot in that boot, I don't know.  It scares me all the same.  Guess I'm not so different from the rest afterall.  And now that I think about it maybe she discovered that too.
    What I didn't expect was how looking at my death would begin to put funny thoughts into my head.  Thoughts I didn't believe I was able to have anymore.  It's been years since I've hoped for anything and now I can only think about wanting to live another day.  
    The boots sit there like a gallows as the hours tick by and my only thoughts are how uncharacteristically terrified I am about going into them.  Even more so every moment.   I really, really don't want to go into them.  So much I'm actually shaking.  Somewhere in my head I can hear myself screaming that I can't give despair another inch or Lillian is really going to win.  She'll break me and what will it all have been for?  My family, friends, the deaths of hundreds of mants like myself and I've always been the last man standing.  
    Well what if I threw myself off of this dresser, die quickly, painlessly on the floor below.  I bet that would piss her off.  But I can't do it, who could have imagined my living all this time was just my being too cowardly to die?  Lillian, damn her all to hell, probably she knew that about me too.
    
    Needless to say sleep never came to me and just as I was beginning to grasp that terrible revelation of my own inner weakness Lillian appeared before my dresser with a knowing smile on her face.  

Beautiful. Deadly. Cunning.

"Are you finally ready to choke upon the air of my feet?  I dear say I've waited long enough for you little one.  Now you'll know, to suffer, that is the point of it all."

    My tears had preceded me into the boot, but it was that smug smile of hers shining down on me that finally broke whatever spirit I had left.  I'm sure my sobbing was the sweetest music to her ears even as she pulled the boot tight against her foot, thickening the air with its scent.  The scent of defeat and a reclamation of her prize well fought...