Layla took off her well-worn gray running shoes, revealing steamy pink socks with grime-ridden soles. She popped her shoe from her heel, before letting it fall onto the ground, creating a massive shockwave that pierced my eardrums. The shoe tumbled around before falling on its side, and a warm, overpowering scent began emanating from the dark maw. The foam inside was well worn, and I could only see in the grime that had accumulated around the heel portion in her sneakers. The foam was soaked with her sweat, and was much darker than the surrounding foam. I looked at the gaping hole and then back to her foot, which she held above me. She held her grimy pinks in place, completely blotting out any natural light whatsoever. The heat from her soles and shoes felt like pin pricks on my entire body, as the fetid smell entered my nostrils and swirled around my brain. I could physically feel the steam from her soles overpower my entire being, and she knew this as well. 

Her gargantuan sole got ever closer before she slammed it down right next to me, shaking the entire floor. I winced, before looking up and seeing the corners of her mouth raise with sadism. She smiled, albeit subtly, as she rocked my entire world, smugly standing with her hands on her curvy hips, fresh with sweat from her evening run. She ground her foot back and forth, each motion bringing her ankles closer. With one final press she lifted her foot back up and returned to a normal stance. I looked up at her again, confused as to this sick display of power. Her eyes met mine, and hers darted back to where she just had her foot. Her eyes glanced back and forth between my tiny body and the area beneath her foot. Her feet were enormous, completely dwarfing my entire body. She could effortlessly stomp me into a steaming pancake, forcing the life out of me in an instant if she chose to do so. After a couple of seconds of silence, her smile faded, while I continued staring up. I finally looked to where her foot had previously been, and saw a colossal, sweaty imprint of her sole on the hard wooden floor. The mark from her toes, soles, and heel were stamped onto the floor, with concentrations of the murky, boiling filth from her sweaty socks. The way she smeared her foot created a layered, nightmarish concoction of footsweat, grime, lint, that took an almost gelatinous state, and her imprint was massive, emanating an acrid stench that completely overtook my nostrils.  

I was confused as to what she was doing, with this elaborate display of dominance. She knew she had godlike powers and she constantly reminded me every chance she could. I was worth less than the dirt under her feet, and she ingrained that into my brain every single day. I was a lowly bug that had to depend on her in order to survive, so I owed her my entire existence, and she absolutely made me repay this debt.

 I quickly realized what she wanted me to do, without her booming voice having to first issue a command. I wanted to speak up, but I knew there would be far worse punishments beyond my comprehension, so I often obeyed her every order. I finally realized why she did not give me anything to drink today. I closed my eyes, quietly sighing in frustration.

One day I would escape all this and go back to my old life. I had a tiny flame inside my heart that would never be extinguished. I would never be domesticated, enslaved, subjugated, dominated, or broken, no matter what hellish things she could subject me to. No amount of suffering will ever deter me. If there was one thing she could not break, it was my spirit. I would never give her the satisfaction, and she knew it. 

To her, it was all a game. A game of increasingly nightmarish attempts that challenged my physical and mental fortitude. She knew I hated her guts, and would tear her limb from limb if I could. In fact, she probably was turned on by this, knowing I could never retaliate. She milked every ounce of superiority she could from my hatred-filled gazes, only offering a smug smile because she knew she was in control. She probably figured that eventually she could break me, and I would be her obedient little slave that would worship her like a goddess, but I know this will never happen.

I started from her feet, pacing my eyes gradually up her body, from her gray booty shorts, to her skin-tight, damp sports bra, all the way up to her face. Her thighs were massive, bouncing around with the slightest movement. Her hips were wide, barely contained in her tight shorts. Her chest was large, pressed up against her sports bra which bounced around whenever she moved her arms. Her black hair, usually free-flowing and wavy, was tightened into a messy bun that shined with sweat. Two strands of her hair rested on the sides of her face. Her cheeks and jawline were sharp, flush from exercise. Her teeth were perfect, completely spotless and polished white. Her lips, thick and gleaming, pursed together, as she made kissing motions, mocking me from miles above. Her eyebrows curled upwards, thin and straight as she goaded me with dominance shrouded within a cloak of fake affection. Her eyes, a deep brown, contemptuously glared, as I got lost within them. Her eyelids were always intently focused, which created an incredibly intimidating aura that always felt uncomfortable. I could not deny that she was beautiful, an alluring and omniscient goddess, but the hatred that blackened my heart would bear no room for affection.

I finished sizing her up, as I normally did in order to maintain some shred of pride before turning to the sweaty imprint on the floor. She smiled, cocked her knee, and laid her hands on her hips.

 “Lap it up.”

It. Tasted. Revolting.

She made me do this all the time, and it did not get any easier. Each second I spent dragging my tongue against the horrid landscape felt like an eternity. My body was shaking, the accumulation of her filth quickly piling up on the back of my tongue as I tried my hardest not to vomit. After a couple seconds of dragging my tongue on the floor I started shaking in absolute disgust. Her imprint was monumental, and covered the length of my entire body. Her hot sweat immediately cooled as soon as it came into contact with my tongue. Every single one of my tastebuds were screaming in anguish as sloshed my tongue around, resisting the urge to stop. I lapped away, kneeling on the floor like an obedient puppy. I could not even easily force it down and swallow it, the heat and temperature were too much to bear. After a couple minutes of incessant servitude, I snapped out of my focus and looked up. She was in the corner of the room next to the hallway, silently and smugly staring. We locked eyes, but she said nothing. I must have looked like a caged animal, because her smug grin grew. She continued staring, not even looking away for a moment as she relished her dominance. I hated her. I wanted her dead. I wanted to rip her to pieces over and over until she begged me for mercy, and even then I would not stop. She continued staring, unmoving, as I sat on my knees, swallowing the last bit of grime. After a period of reticence she finally uncocked her knees and walked to the bathroom. As she walked, back turned to me, her hips swayed side to side in a self-satisfied demeanor. Before she went into the bathroom, she pursed her lips together and whistled, signaling that I needed to follow her. I grimaced, but placing my tongue on the roof of my mouth made me gag because the disgusting residue from her sweat still resided. I sighed, and followed her to the bathroom. 

The hallway was very high and it took me quite a while to travel there, even though it was across the room. Tall shelves, riddled with her paraphernalia loomed above as I approached the well-lit bathroom. The walls were a bright blue, and several oceanic objects were scattered around. Layla loved to decorate, and her bathroom was ocean themed. She stood between the sink and the shower, untangling her bun and letting her hair flow freely in the mirror. She had since cooled down from her run, but I could still smell her sweat. I stood meekly, at eye level with her thighs, zoning out and waiting for her next command. I focused on her hips as she bent back and forth to look at different angles of herself in the mirror, inspecting her post-exercise physiognomy. Suddenly, my vision went black and I was blindsided by an incredible amount of force. I got tangled up and fell to my knees, frantically thrashing and trying to escape the dark prison. It was warm and damp, and her scent was overpowering, completely encapsulating all of my senses. I finally saw light and continued struggling until I peeked my head from the hole. I was entangled and anxious, as my vision finally refocused. I looked up at Layla, now shirtless, completely towering over me and giggling like a schoolgirl. When I was zoned out she threw her shirt on me and watched me struggle to escape. My cheeks went red as I looked away, and she continued laughing. I would never let my guard down again. I stood, surrounded by her shirt as it soon dropped to my feet. While still smugly grinning, she lifted her foot in the air, and placed her sole on the rim of the bathtub before peeling her socks off. It took a couple seconds because they were adhered to her sweaty feet. After a few tugs, her pink sock came off, her toes wiggling, finally happy that fresh air was flowing through them. She looked at her dirty pink sock, which was drenched in sweat and grime, crumpled it into a ball, and looked at me. She moved her foot down, which caused me to flinch because I thought she would hurl her filthy sock at me. She placed her other foot on the tub and peeled it off, wiggling her toes once more as fresh air cooled down her steaming soles. She held both of her socks above my head, dangling them and letting them straighten out. She held them for a couple seconds, taking in my growing anxiousness before dropping them straight onto me. Of course, I was ready to catch them, and I braced for impact. They were not heavy, but her added sweat definitely added  some weight as I was jolted back. I held both socks in my hands, which were smeared with grime and sweat. They were horrid, completely noxious. My face was briefly pushed against the pink darkened soles, and I was almost knocked out. Her socks reeked, and were blazing hot, swirling around in my lungs, depriving me of fresh air. My eyes were rolling back as I struggled to breathe, every single breath dominated by her pheromones. I dropped her socks to the ground, but the smell only amplified with her sweaty shirt. I was surrounded by a huge ring of her dirty laundry. I struggled to stand straight. All I could think about was the smell of her socks. I could not breathe, and my lungs were desperate for fresh air. Her scent stuck to my lungs and lined the inside of my throat. All of my senses were at the mercy of her filthy, steaming gym socks. I had no time to react as she slid her booty shorts and cotton underwear from her hips, shimmying them down to her ankles as she bent over. Her black, wavy hair was inches away from my face, dangling from her forehead as she took her shorts off. When they were down to her ankles she lifted one foot and stepped out. I was again distracted as she used her other foot to fling her dirty shorts right into my face, which knocked me back. I fell right into her socks and shirt, which actually cushioned my fall. Her sweaty underwear entangled itself with my body, and I laid writhing like a fly in a spider web. I continued thrashing as her damp shorts and underwear attached itself to my body. I flung my arms up and pushed, which caused her underwear to rubberband back and smack my face. It was completely soaked, dripping with her vaginal juices. For a brief second I was drowning as the goo-like liquid seeped into my mouth, nose, and eyes. The front of my body was completely covered in her cum, dominated by her womanly scent. Every attempt to push her underwear back and crawl out of the booty short prison was in vain, as I got more and more drenched and entangled. I could not breathe, and I was slowly drowning as I slid deeper and deeper into the mess. Her juices began filling my mouth, and I swallowed to avoid drowning. It was slightly sweet, coating my taste buds as it traveled down my throat. I had no time to think about the disgusting situation I was in, and finally wriggled out, strands of her sweat and juices strung out as I desperately clawed out. I was a mess, drenched in a concoction of her sweat and vaginal fluids. My lungs were on fire, and my stomach was a heavy pit. I took short, panicked breaths and put my hands on my knees, desperately wiping all the liquids off my body. I did not look up at her, and instead focused on the floor beneath me as I tried to physically and mentally recover from what I just went through. Without giving me time to think, she giggled and said, “Enough fun and games for now. I’m gonna take a shower. Fold my dirty laundry” before turning on the faucet and stepping into the shower. I remained silent, staring up at her, still breathing heavily. Before closing the curtain, she winked and blew a kiss.   How I longed to take a shower to wash the misery and torture away, cleansing my body of Layla’s domination.  I wanted nothing more than to feel warm water rain down my back as I breathed in the fresh steam, completely rejuvenating my senses. Just a period of relaxation, free from worry or danger. I snapped out of my daydream, realizing my wishes were meaningless. I looked at her workout clothes around me, and began to fold. Careful to avoid her fluids, and trying to minimize inhaling her fumes, I began folding her clothes. She hummed softly in the shower, to a tune of which I did not know, as I could hear the shower raining down, taunting me with every patter. The actual task of folding her clothes was physically demanding, as I was about half her size. Lifting the edges of each article of clothing was tiring and hard on my arms, and by the end I was aching in exhaustion. To struggle folding clothes she effortlessly flung with her foot was demoralizing. Her socks, underwear, shorts, and shirt were neatly folded in a pile, and I collapsed on the ground. My arms were hot and heavy, completely numb. I inhaled and exhaled, and focused on the pattern of my breaths as my body ached in pain. I did not even care about the smell anymore, as my lungs were desperate for any breath they could get, even for one tainted with her smell. My period of respite was cut short, as the shower abruptly turned off. She must have telepathically knew I was done, because I never once got longer than a minute of rest. I closed my eyes and held back tears, my back on the ground as I anxiously waited for her next command. I heard her colossal body fidget back and forth as she dried herself off. She finally unveiled the curtain and stepped out. Her body smelt heavenly, and shining as she towered over me. Her ambrosial scent descended, and I was in paradise. I could not even describe her aroma, but it was delicious. My nostrils were bouncing around, sniffing heavenly, free from the nightmare they had been previously subjected to. I was ecstatic, almost thankful for her unintentional act. I took in as much of her aroma as possible before she stepped over me and onto the neatly folded pile of clothes I had worked on. She completely ruined the entire job I did in seconds without a care for my efforts before walking out of the bathroom. I heard her footsteps boom through the walls as she walked into her bedroom. After a brief moment of silence, I heard another whistle. I stepped over the mess of dirty laundry she so effortlessly ruined and walked through the halls, careful not to step in her wet footprints as I went to her bedroom. 

She was sitting on her bed, which was adjacent to the door. She had just put on a black shirt, which matched with her toenails and hair. She sat high above, legs akimbo, and intently stared as I walked closer to her. Her long hair, usually wavy, was straight and thin, dangled from her head vertically. I walked up to her bed, right beneath her massive body and looked up. Her legs were outstretched, and her feet were at my sides. She still smelt amazing, completely towering over me as she sat on her bed. I was eye level with her pussy, which hungrily stared inches away from my face. She sat, smugly smiling, both hands on her legs. She then stood up, and the resulting movement made her bed loudly creak. She towered over me, her thighs surrounding my entire body. She inched closer and put her hands on her hips. I stared up, and my eyes met with her vagina, now soaking with anticipation. I glanced back and forth between her slit and her eyes, in which she then slyly nodded and grinned complacently. I tried to back away in desperation, because I was exhausted and the thought of pleasuring her gargantuan monster pussy again was traumatic. It was massive, hungrily watching and eager to completely dominate me, as she jiggled it around in my face. She placed her enormous palms on the back of my head, coaxing me closer to her warm and soaking womanhood. I was surrounded on all sides by her mountainous figure. Her thick thighs came ever closer as she leaned forward. She did not outright shove my head between her thighs (not yet at least). She wanted me to start on my own accord, making me believe it was my choice. I closed my eyes and exhaled, which caused her pussy to excitedly pulsate in response to my breath. I took another deep breath.

I should have been more careful on that day, and realized what a monster she truly was.

I closed my eyes and plunged my tongue forward.