Chapter - 5
Realizing my boon, I slowly inched forward until I finely was able to drag myself from under Suzanne’s sole. Looking back, I saw why I wasn’t crushed flat. Earlier, I described that the surface of the floor was covered in multiple plateaus varying in height. By some luck of the Gods I was on a plateau that was about two of my feet lower than the larger one Suzanne was standing upon. Due to the differing heights in the plateaus I was ever so fortunate to be just low enough to be able to escape the crushing weight of Suzanne’s shoe. Had I been a foot or two further down I would just be so much juice oozing into her leather sole.
Laying flat on my back and breathing hard from my exertions I looked up to see a sight I had seen many times, albeit from a much different perspective. As I gazed upwards I felt my cock go rigid to attention! The sight I beheld was Suzanne’s arch hovering at least 50 feet above my head. Her full arch was concealed by the part of her shoe that ran from her heel to the ball of her foot. Her once dainty foot was now a gargantuan slab of flesh resting a top the high heel of her shoe. I could clearly see a circle with the number 7 inside it’s circumference far above me. Her high heel towered upwards of 75 feet above me.
Flashing back to our sexual escapades of this morning I remember seeing this exact same sight, one of my favorite turn ons, foot and heel extending around the narrow part of her shoes as if the shoes didn’t quite dare to fully cover her beautiful foot. A sudden loud creak from above jarred me back to my senses as she casually (to her at least) rocked her foot back on her heel. Her sole was now off the floor at a height of about 100 feet. As quickly as it rose it slammed back down with incredible force! This movement continued five more times and I decided I needed to get the fuck out of here before I really was crushed. Barrel-rolling to my right, I managed to make it the safety of the cabinet base and it’s protective overhang 300 feet above my head.
Gasping for breath I thanked God for my choice in flooring. You see, I elected to pick a nice Italian slate for the tiles. My saving grace was the natural differences in height each tile displayed. Had I went with Suzanne’s choice of flat marble I would surly have succumbed to the crushing weight of my now gigantic Goddess. Thank God for tender mercies!
Now that I had reached temporary sanctuary, I stared transfixed at Suzanne’s enormous shoe. The leather of the sole stood at least 10 feet above my head, and the tips of her toes towered at least another 50 feet higher up. The view from my diminutive form was beyond even my most ardent fantasizing. Her toes were scrunching and releasing in what I used to think was a cute subtlety was now infinitely terrifying. The sound of the subtle movement of her toes was almost deafening.
My thoughts were racing at least 100 miles per hour, how the fuck was I going to get her to notice me with out her thinking I was a bug and becoming the latest victim of a game of “crush”? Detecting movement out of the corner of my eye I turned to see Elvis was still with me. Judging from his posture, it was pretty obvious he detected the peril of our situation as well.
As quickly as she had appeared, suddenly she was gone. Looking out from my relative safety I saw she had moved over to the far end of the room to the counter where I had left the mustard. In an act of solidarity, Elvis nuzzled up against my still shaking body as we watched in detached horror at what came next.
Seeing that the sandwich was half finished, Suzanne tapped her right foot in annoyance. “Jesus Christ, couldn’t he have at least finished making Adam’s lunch” she muttered under her breath. “I asked him to do one fucking thing for me and here it is half finished!” Turning on her heel, she stomped over to where I have left the mustard on the counter. Detecting movement on the floor to her left, she turned her gaze to the unfortunate ants that were making the last of the sugar run. “FUCKING ANTS! I THOUGHT WE WERE RID OF YOU LITTLE FUCKERS!” Deciding to vent her frustrations, she again turned on her heel and faced her little victims head on. “Time for a little game of Crunch” she thought to herself, a wicked smile slowly spreading across her beautiful face.
Suzanne took two steps forward and gazed down at her sandal clad feet. On the slate tiles, a few inches from her pink polished toes, were about ten ants scurrying about gathering the last of the sugar that Jon spilled this morning. She watched them with mild curiosity as they picked up granules of the sugar and ran it over to tiny hole in the baseboard. “Huh”, she thought. We must have missed that hole, oh well, “Time for some fun”!
Eying her victims, she decided that none should escape unpunished. Raising her foot onto her heel she slid the ball of her foot over the first victim. Quickly she tapped on the ant with a satisfying little crunch and then raised her foot to see the little guy writhing in pain. Long ago, Suzanne had mastered the technique of lightly tapping the ant to the floor with only enough pressure to lightly crush his exoskeleton. She was never sure how much damage she caused, and really didn’t give a fuck anyways. As long as he was still alive was the only thing that mattered. The technique rendered the ant mostly incapable of running away, and normally caused him to curl up on his back and twist spasmodically in agony. Of course, pain and suffering was the primary goal and she never failed to achieve the desired results.
Having rendered her first victim out of commission, she proceeded to tap the rest into a macabre little dance of hopeless suffering. Her wicked grin grew wider now that she had them all at the mercy of her twisted little game. Hovering her foot back over her first victim, she slowly, and oh so casually, lowered her foot back down upon the little piece of shit. Again, being the master of her game, she was able to draw out his suffering for another few seconds, hearing, and best, yet feeling a few more tiny cracks and pops until her foot effortlessly met the unyielding surface of the slate floor.
“CRUNCH” said Suzanne, “One down, nine to go”! The rest of her executions when off with out a hitch, with the exception of a few that seemed to escape the first or second squishes due to the unevenness of the tile. With a slight giggle, Suzanne stepped down on those a few more times, occasionally having to drag her foot back and forth or use her heel to obliterate her foe. With a satisfied smile she surveyed her handiwork. Normally she would wipe up their tiny carcasses (the ones not plastered o the sole of he shoes at least) but in this case she decided that Jon should be the one to clean up her little mess. Besides, the sick fuck loved taking pictures of their crushed little remains.
With that fun little distraction over, she returned to the counter and finished making Adam’s sandwich.