*Three months later*

Kristina slammed her sneaker down on a tiny black person on the sidewalk. She didn’t think twice about it, and didn’t feel guilty afterwards. Her purse was filled with tiny people of color. Her hips swayed side to side as she made her way back to her house.

It had been three months since the shrinking epidemic struck America and caused the majority of black Americans to shrink. At first, there was a big movement from the left for these people to retain their human status. However, politicians quickly ruled that it was unreasonable for the whites in America to have to cater to the needs of the shrunken people regardless of race, and the shrunken people soon became seen as having the same status as bugs. Americans were free to help these people if they wished, but no legal punishment would befall anyone who wished to crush, capture, enslave or punish the tinies. 

Kristina didn’t wait for the official go ahead, and had been capturing the tinies since the first day she discovered they were shrinking. At first she would only take a handful or two, but now three months in she started to take hundreds of a time. “These cockroaches are everywhere.” She would say to her friends when they’d come over and marvel at the amount of dead and alive tinies scattered on the floor. 

As Kristina entered her home, she locked the door behind her and discreetly slid off her size 15 sneakers. Kristina made her way to her sofa and sat down on it, placing her purse on the coffee table in front of her. She undid the zipper and pulled out a handful of 20 or so tinies. She dropped them on the wooden table. 

They all scurried to their feet. Some looked around, other’s shouted at the giant form of Kristina. She simply laughed at them. She loved how they desperately cling to any form of power they could, even if it meant their lives.

Kristina raised her fist in the air and slammed it against the table, crushing two of the tinies under her. “Quiet!” The shock caused half the tinnies to fall over on their asses. One hit his head hard against the wood which caused his head to bleed. Kristina rolled her eyes. “Worthless.” 

Two of the black tinies rushed over to help the one who banged his head while some of the others cried over their situation. “Don’t you dare help him.” Kristina ordered. The tinies froze in their tracks. “Let the monkey bleed out. And the rest of you stand up.”

They listened to her. They all did. Even the ones who were crying stood up. Kristina thought it must’ve been their ancestral DNA kicking in that caused them to be so obedient. “Look at all of you. After almost 200 years you blacks are finally slaves again, all because of me. I’m surprised you lasted this long, but you’re finally back in your rightful place.”

“This was so overdo.” Kristina continued, propping her feet on the table in front of her slaves. “I told people my entire life that this was exactly where you belonged, and it seems like god agreed with me. He finally gave me the power to make up for 200 years of insolence and nonsense. I’ll remind each and every darkie still left in this country that they’re a worthless slave fated to serve teh master white race, and then I’ll kill them as punishment for ever thinking otherwise.”

Kristina smirked at the terrified look she could make out on the faces of her tinies. She leaned forwards and grabbed her giant feet with her hands. She rubbed them. “Do you like what you see? Slaving away at the bottom of a beautiful white girl’s beautiful feet is exactly where you deviants belong.” She slid her fingers in between her toes, showing them off. She always kept her feet well maintained, always paying for manicures and pedicures. 

“Guess how many of your brotha’s and sista’s perished beneath these soles. Don’t bother, I doubt any of you could count that high anyway. I had slaves lick them clean, rub them, and then I’d crush them and get more slaves to lick their bodies off my sole. And that’s only the start of it. One time I had 500 of you under my shoe trying to lift it up. Naturally, they couldn’t. And I still have the blood stain under that shoe to prove it.”

She frowned. “I just don’t think you monkeys know how lucky you are to be in front of such divine feet. You could be in front of some fat man’s dick right now drowning in his cum, but instead you’re with my lovely soles. I think you should all show how grateful you are by worshiping these goddessly soles. Lick them, kiss them, massage them, just make yourself useful.” She leaned back against the couch. “And I hope you know better than to keep me waiting.”

Understanding their new position, the 20 something tinies still alive approached the massive soles. Kristina felt their tiny hands, lips and tongues pressing into her foot. It made her feel euphoric. She was doing god’s work. This was her purpose in life: having her feet pampered for being among the superior race of white people. They were the worthy people, and she would remind that to whoever needed to be reminded.

After 10 minutes of worshipping, some of her slaves started to get tired and stopped licking. “Is there a problem?” Kristina asked, leaning back up. Only a few of her slaves were still worshiping her feet. The others were spitting up on the table or collapsing from heat exhaustion. 

“Oh, I see what the problem is.” Kristina wiggled her toes. “You guys have licked up all the sweat and now my foot doesn’t taste so good. Here, I’ll give you all something to eat away at.” Without warning, Kristina slid her foot down and crushed half of her tinies under her ten toes. She scrunched them into the wood before pulling her foot back and revealing her blood soaked toes to the slaves that still remained. The worst part was that she crushed the slaves that were still worshiping her. To Kristina, good slaves don’t get rewarded. They’re still niggers, and they deserve to be punished for it.

Nine of the remaining ten tinies rushed to her toes, licking away at the blood of their crushed fellow slaves. Animals, Kristina thought. She turned her attention to the one tinies that stayed behind. He threw up on her table. Kristina dropped her jaw in shock. 

She brought her finger over to him and forced his face into his own pool of throw up. “Lap that up.” She demanded. The man cried and desperately started to lick up his own throw up. Kristina watched and waited for him to finish. She could vaguely make out his pitiful pleads for mercy, but she didn’t care. 

Once she saw he was finished, she forced her finger down on his head. He popped under her finger. She heard a woman scream over by her toes. “Whoever that was go lick his head and guts off my table or you’re next.” Kristina popped her finger in her mouth and licked the blood off as she watched a dark woman run over to the man and lick up his remains. She laughed at the site of blood squirting from the man’s severed neck and onto her naked body. 

“Mmm.” Kristina moaned as she licked up all the blood. She realized she was getting hungry. She grabbed her purse and placed it on the couch next to her before leaning back. 

As she felt the tinies licking away at her toes, she reached her hand into her purse and plucked out another handful of tinies. They wailed from inside her grip. “That’s right, keep screaming. I’ll let you live if you do.” That was a lie of course.

Kristina threw the tiny blacks into her mouth and started chewing. This was her favorite part: biting down on as many tinies as she could and listening as their screams slowly got quieter and quieter. It made the warm blood that flowed into her mouth after so much more rewarding. After swishing them in her jaw for a bit, she swallowed hard and sent them down her throat. She ate some tiny slaves earlier, and wondered when they’d be ready to come out of her other end.

She repeated the process a couple more times, grabbing tinies from her bag, chewing them under her molars and sending them down to her belly. When she was full, she picked up seven tinies from her purse. They were all girls.

“I hope you’re ready for your first job, probably the first job you welfare whores have ever held in your life.” Kristina smiled and bore her bloody teeth at the tinies below. Blood was all over, and the tinies could make out bits of arms or bones still stuck between her teeth. “You’re all going to lick clean the blood stained on my teeth. Any body parts left over just throw down my throat. 

Despite being able to hear their cries and protests, Kristina dropped all of them into her mouth. It took every bit of restraint not to slam her teeth down on the trash whores in her mouth, but she wanted her teeth cleaned. It made her happy knowing that not only were the tinies licking up blood, but they were forced to clean up the plaque on her teeth too. 

With such enticing food in her mouth, it was only natural that Kristina began salivating. She could feel their struggles as some of the tinies fell into the pool of spit forming under her tongue and began to drown. Kristina didn’t bother to help them. She loved the idea of the tiny negros drowning in her spit. As she felt the struggling die out, she shrugged her shoulders.

Kristina closed her mouth and swallowed her victims. She grabbed a few more from her purse. “Your turn. Try to finish this time.” She dropped them in her mouth and tried not to laugh as they got to work. 

This torment continued for another half an hour as she rotated crushing tinies between her teeth and making another group clean it. The slaves at her feet didn’t stop licking her toes, even after all the blood was gone and they started cutting their tongues on the rough skin of Kristina’s underfoot. They were too scared to even dare stop.

These tinies used to be real people. They spent their entire lives trying to prove that to the whites around them. A few among them were old enough to have been alive before the civil rights act. They lived lives, and thought themselves to be equal. No, they knew they were equal to whites. But now, they were shrunk and forced to lick the foot of a sweaty white woman. Some of them hated how easily they cracked and returned to slavery. 

Malik was one of those tinies. He was nearly 70 years old, but you wouldn’t think he was a day over 40. As a youth, he swore up and down on his deceased grandmother’s grave that he would sooner die than be sent to bondage. But there he was, eagerly lapping away at a white woman’s third toe. He felt humiliated and degraded. He looked around, and saw his fellow brothers and sisters doing the same. What was it in them that caused them to accept slavery so easily? Was it true that servitude was what his race was put on this planet to do, or was it instead a deep rooted need to survive. He knew which one he wanted to believe, but he also knew which one this giantess believed. He was nothing but an animal to her, a pest to be used for her temporary enjoyment. 

Suddenly, the giant toe crashed down on top of Malik. He grunted, feeling his body be forced down onto the wood below and simultaneously into the peach flesh above. He scratched his face against the sole to look to his side. The man next to him was suffering the same fate. Past him, Malik couldn’t make out the slave… er, woman that was worshiping her big toe. Then, a stream of blood trickled out from under it. Malik winced. Another good woman just lost her life.

Just as Malik was getting used to the toe being on top of him, it started to press down on him. The pressure increased, and so did the heat. He pounded his fist under it, but that only angered the goddess. She put even more weight on him, and presumably the other tinies. He heard a loud scream before a crack! He watched as the man under her second toe popped like a grape, his blood flying far and shooting straight into Malik’s eye. 

He lost sight in his right eye. Malik began to panic. She was crushing them. He had to find a way out from under her toe. But how could he? She had more strength in her giant middle toe than he had in his entire body, and it so happened that he was under that exact toe. He felt the smooth sole of the toe drill further into him. He choked, coughing up blood right onto the sole that was quickly rubbed his blood right back into his face. 

His body was starting to compress on itself. The toe was flattening him alive, slowly but surely. He heard the screams of the tinies around him grow louder before quickly fading out. It was like they were never even there. Why was he still alive? The toe was suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe. The toe wiggled on top of him, increasing his pain. It hurt so badly. Sweat dripped into his mouth. He didn’t have the ability to spit it out or even swallow it, so he felt it spill it’s way down his throat as the toe continued to flatten him.

Then he felt the front of his skull crack open. It was the worst pain he ever experienced. Blood poured out of it, surrounding the toe and his forehead. He could feel the toe flesh press into his brain. How was this possible? A girl’s middle toe was flattening him to death. Soon his ribs cracked too. The pressure kept increasing. He wanted to die. The pain was too much.

But the toe didn’t grant him death. Not yet. Not before snapping Malik’s jaw clean off his face. He could taste it—the toe entering his mouth. The flesh rubbed against his tongue, filling it with gunk and sweat. His lungs finally gave out. The toe slammed more onto him, almost flattening him completely this time. First his eyes popped, then blood squirted out of his ears.Then the toe completely obliterated his chest, striking right through it. Malik was still alive, barely, forced to watch as the toe slid forward and circled around his body, first flattening his head, spewing his brains everywhere, then finishing the job by flattening his legs.

Kristina wasn’t even paying attention. She was too busy messing around with a tiny trapped in her mouth to notice that she had just absentmindedly decimated the tinies that were down by her feet. She slammed the tiny to the roof of her mouth with her tongue. He popped under her warm and wet muscle, being swallowed soon after. She reached into her bag and pulled out a few more screaming tinies.

“I don’t know why you guys are screaming so loudly.” She raised the group above your head. “You all tried so hard to get inside a white woman back when you were bigger. You shouldn’t be complaining now that you’re tiny. She dropped them in and immediately crushed them beneath her teeth.

That’s when she felt her stomach growl and rumble. A devious smile spread across her face, knowing exactly what was coming.

Kristina checked her blinds and made sure they were shut. She usually didn’t care if people passing by looked through her window and saw her torturing her black slaves, but she didn’t want any peeking in to see what she was about to do. 

The white giantess picked up her purse full of tinies and walked into her kitchen. “I’m going to remind you coons just how dark you really are.” She said as she ripped a couple pieces of paper towels off her roll. She then walked back into her living room and laid the paper towels down on the floor. She then picked up twenty or so tinies and dropped them onto the rough towel. 

Imani— who was one of these tinies— looked up at the giant as she released her onto the paper towel with the rest of the tinies. Imani desperately looked around for her boyfriend. They were hiding together in the park before Kristina found them and snatched them in her purse.They were both in the purse together a second ago, but she wasn’t sure if he was scooped out with her.

Imani was so busy looking for Zahair that she didn’t notice the goddess above her taking her pants off and hovering her exposed anus above them. It wasn’t until a giant brown log dropped from above onto a group of seven black men that she realized what was going on. The men completely disappeared under it. Imani screamed, falling on her ass in shock. 

The stench was foul. It was enough to bring tears back into Imani’s eyes. She was used to being treated like she was less than human. Her mother was constantly shifting through men when Imani was a kid. The good ones never stayed long, but the bad ones always did. Imani used to watch her mother get beat by her boyfriends, and some would take a hand to her too. One time after one of her mother’s boyfriends threatened to leave her, Imani’s mother offered up her own daughter so he would stay. Imani was abused and raped by that man for 3 months before social services saved her. 

She knew what it was like to be treated as an object for someone’s pleasure. It was familiar, but this was different. Katrina made Imani feel disposable; worthless, like she was just one in a million different black girls that she could kill. She was never degraded to the point of having shit dumped on top of her.

A dark shit covered hand emerged from beneath the large pile. Imani wanted to run over and help whoever it was, but she was too scared. She was powerless, how could she help him? She had been powerless her whole life, and even though her boyfriend had been nice to her and made her feel special, this giant white woman was reminding her of her place in the world. 

“I can’t even tell where the shit ends and the people begin.” Katrina rang. “Well, I guess there’s no difference from a black person and shit, so this is really fitting.” 

The taunting caused Imain to look up at the pulsing anus. A log of shit was half way out her ass. It was directly above Imani. Her brain told her to run, but her body wouldn’t move. She had to accept her fate. The log slowly slid out of the giantess’s ass. Imani started screaming long before it left Kristina’s ass, but her voice was immediately silenced when the giant piece of shit landed directly on her.

Her body smushed into the shit as it was pressed into the ground. The shit forced its way into Imani’s mouth. It tasted awful, and it stunted her breath. The smell was enough to make her want to throw up, although there was no room to push past the shit clogging her throat. Against her best judgement, Imani opened her eyes. Right in front of her was the skull of a tiny Katrina had eaten earlier.

Imain wanted to cry, but the shit made its way into her eyes. Imani’s entire body was covered in it. She thought it was fitting that her life ended under a white girl’s shit. She never thought highly of herself, and this proved that she was right. She choked on the shit, and after a minute of suffering under the waste and having it force its way into her body, she suffocated under it and died.

As did the other tinies who were there. Some found good positions and were able to find pockets of air to breathe in, but the odor was so bad that they suffocated on the scent alone. Other’s found worse positions, and their bodies went splat the moment the shit made contact with them and the ground.  

Kristina pushed out another log of shit, trying to angle it over the remaining tinies. She loved seeing them disappear under it. She truly couldn’t tell the difference from her shit and the slave’s bodies. Once they were consumed, they were equal to the shit that came out of her ass. To Kristina, black people were always the same as waste, so she found this fitting. 

After pushing out her final log, Kristina realized that she hit all but one of the tinies. He was running away. Since there wasn’t anything left in her bowels, she brought her left foot over to the tiny man and squished him under her heels. She twisted it back and forth, making sure he flattened all the way. Now that she had taken care of that, it was time to introduce some of the other tinies to their next task. She knew they wouldn’t like it, which is why she always looked forward to doing it. 

Zahair yelled out his girlfriend’s name. “Imani! Imani!” But no answer. He wasn’t sure if she was taken by the giant hand and that’s why she wasn’t calling back or if she couldn’t hear him over the crying and screaming of the other tinies in the purse. Zahair knew his time alive was running out. He was at the top of the pile of tinies in the purse, meaning he would be taken out of it sooner rather than later. He just wanted to be with Imani in the end. If he could do that, he’d be able to die happy.

Again the giant shadow of Kristina’s hand cascaded down on the tinies in her purse. The group burst in fearful screams as the hand plummeted and scooped up another group of people. Zahair was among them. Before he knew it, he and the other tinies were being deposited onto the shit infested paper towel. They were in front of the large piles of shit, unaware of the people trapped under them.

“Why the hell she put us here?” One of the men said as he grabbed his nose and waved the stench away. Zahair looked around. He didn’t see Imani, but he didn’t see any of the others either. Where did they go? 

“I bet you’re all wondering where your fellow little tar babies went.” Kristina said with a smile, bending down to get a better look at her slaves. She extends her long polished finger nail towards her waste. “They’re all suffocating under my shit.”

Zahair dropped to his knees. Imani… Was she crushed under there? The mere thought of it caused him to cringe and shiver. The smell was so bad from where he was. Imani was a flower, that smell could cripple her. 

“But they might still be alive!” Kristina cheered. “I want you all to dig through my shit and try and find them. Also, I can’t have any bones be flushed down the toilet or the drain might clog, so make sure you pick out any you find. And trust me, there’s probably plenty.”

Zahair didn’t believe her story about the drain clogging, but if Imani was still alive under there he had to find her. He rushed over to the pile a few ‘feet’ in front of him. He dug his hand into the mushy brown shit and pushed some of it to the side. He had to find her.

“Good little slave!” Kristina praised Zahair for his eagerness. “Play with crap just like the monkey you are. The rest of you too. Don’t keep me waiting, you want to live don’t you?” Kristina loved promising her slaves the chance to live. She never granted it to them, but it was fun watching them try. 

The rest of the tinies began digging through crap. Kristina was surprised by how willing they were. Usually at least one of them would put up a fight, but they must be taking after the lead of the first. 

Zahair continued to dig through Kristina’s shit. The smell only got worse the further in he dug. He hit something hard. He brushed the shit off around it hoping it was Imain, but what he only saw was a bone. He pulled it out and threw it beside him. His heart pounded with fear at the thought of what those people must’ve gone through. He wondered how long they were alive for; if they died before being swallowed or if they had to go through the pain of being burned alive by Kristina’s stomach acids. He shook his head and pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. He had to find Imani.

For the next ten minutes, the tinies dug through Kristina’s shit, dragging out deceased bodies and discarding bones. Kristina watched with eagerness, laughing at how pathetic the tinies were. Some of them would end up getting crushed by shit falling on them in the hole they dug for themselves. She thought it comitical how some of them tried reviving the dead bodies like they didn’t have shit shoved half way down their esophagus. She wondered how many of them were finding dead family members or loved ones. It thrilled her.

Zahair was still looking for Imani. His hands and knees were covered in the giant woman’s feces. After digging a good amount of the way through the first log, he moved onto another. He looked at the bodies that were already dragged out, scanning for a face that looked like Imani’s. No luck.

He kneeled down next to another black man and started digging into the same piece of shit. It didn’t take him long to grab a touch of something that felt like hair. “I have got one!” He yelled. The man next to him helped him dig a pocket to drag the body out. 

The two of them managed to grab the body’s shoulders and holsted it out of the shit. Zahair eagerly brushed shit off the woman’s face. 

It was Imani’s. Her eyes were wide open, both filled with shit. The crap was in her mouth too. Zahair desperately tried to scoop the poop out of her mouth, wanting to bring at least a little bit of dignity back to his girlfriend, but the poop was shoved deep in her throat. Her entire body was covered. He broke down in tears. Why couldn’t it be him? Why did she have to suffer such a cruel fate? He hated Kristina for doing this to her. He wanted to kill her. He wanted her dead instead.

Krisitna, seeing this one particular tiny’s tears, brought joy to her. She laughed, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. She clapped her hands in applause at the show. “Okay, I think that’s enough.” Kristina stood up and folded the paper towels into each other, surrounding the shit and forcing the tinies into it.

Zahair fell into the same piece of shit that his girlfriend died in. He smushed into it as the paper towel folded. What was the giant doing? Didn’t she want to take the bones and people out before disposing of her waste? Or did she not see a difference between the shit and the black people in it?

Kristina made her way to her back door and opened it, exiting to her backyard. “Usually, I would put waste in the toilet and flush it there. But the toilet is for shit, and you niggers are less than shit, and you don’t deserve an end in my divine toilet.” Kristina dropped the paper towels and the tinies into a hole she prepared in the ground. Part of the paper towel unfolded, revealing the living tinies glued to her shit. Kristina grabbed a shovel and laughed.

“You niggers are compost now. Have fun being eaten alive by the worms and maggots in the ground.” Kristina drove the shovel into a pile of dirt and threw it on her slaves and shit. She laughed the entire time as she buried them under the soil. She patted the mound with her shovel when she finished. She could sleep well that night knowing that those little slaves would suffer the entire time. Her only regret was that she couldn’t watch.

Regardless, she still had more slaves to punish in the house