The faint giggle of children seeped through the thick, oaken door of the old house. As the excited cheers of trick-or-treaters reached living room, the house’s sole occupant turned her attention from her old spell book, and towards her TV screen. Despite the importance of Halloween to her fellow witches, the young lady found herself spending the night in, reading her books. On the screen, she observed her security camera footage as the children eagerly dug through the large punch bowl filled with candy on the porch. A child dressed as a knight reached in to grab a handful of candy. With a slight frown, she reached for the remote, pressed a button and spoke.
“Two to three pieces max please, like the sign says!”
The young woman’s melodic voice interrupted the mad scramble, as the costumed children stopped to look at the camera in the corner of her porch.
“We’re sorry miss!” The knight quickly apologized.
“Thank you and have a happy Halloween! Stay safe!”
She watched with a smile as the kids excitedly hurried out of view. Return
The evening sun slowly sank below the horizon, casting longer and longer shadows, before the glowing orb fully disappeared, plunging the world into darkness. Outside, streetlights blazed to life as the warm evening glow was replaced with the dim glare of sodium bulbs. Eventually, the stream of children slowed to a trickle, then to a sporadic trickle of teenagers. By 11:00 PM, the street was quiet, save for the distant chirping of crickets.
Setting down the book, the witch rose to her feet with a wide stretch.
“Time to go bring in the bowl.” She muttered, before movement on the screen caught her eye.
The young man slowly crept up to the door. Clutching an old pillowcase, he had one goal, the unmonitored candy bowl on the dark house’s porch. He glanced around the quiet neighborhood before darting for the candy. Throwing her little handmade sign into the bushes, he lifted the half-filled bowl and began to pour it into the pillowcase.
Inside the house, the witch gritted her teeth as she watched the young man dump the contents of her bowl into the bag. With a frustrated sigh, she waved her hand in the air.
“Imminuo ad cimex!”
Outside, the man dropped to the ground, wracked with an all-consuming tightness. Clutching at his chest, he looked around the deserted neighborhood as the world seemed to rise up around him. As he tried to scream, little more than a muffled squeak could escape from his body. Moments later, he felt himself flying through the air before the world went black.
A tremendous thud vibrated the world around the man. His eyes flicked open, and he began to process the blurry scenery around him. A brown floor stretched off to a hazy white wall. The source of the thudding, a tremendous black object, rose and fell rhythmically, filling his view with every drop. Eventually, his view came into focus. The blurry shapes soon revealed themselves as the floor and wall of the inside of a house, and as the black wall descended, his stomach twisted in knots as its true form revealed itself.
“Finally awake?”
The voice boomed over him, as he scrambled to identify its source. Rolling onto his back, his vision was filled with the form of the largest woman he’d ever seen. Long, pale legs rose into the air like toned pillars, eventually meeting at a vast black panty, partially obscured by a short skirt. Past that, his eyes kept turning skyward, past her ornate black outfit and all the way to her icy purple eyes, brown hair and a large, black, floppy witch hat.
“You’re lucky I didn’t decide to turn you into a bug or frog. I crush them on the spot. But you… I think I want to play with you for a bit.”
The
young man scrambled to his feet. “W…what? Who the fuck are you, why did you do
this?”
“Most call me Hazel, I’m a witch, and you tried to steal from me. So, you’re mine now, Arthur. Don’t think I don’t know your name. I’ve heard plenty of things about you from the neighborhood. It’s about time someone put a stop to you.”
Arthur responded with a middle finger. “Grow me back you oversized bitch!”
Hazel’s face turned into a scowl. The tiny man recoiled as her massive black boot lifted before slamming down with a seismic bang. A blast of air buffeted him as he clutched his ears in fear.
“First off, do not speak to me that way. You’re the size of a cricket and it’s in your best interest to not make me any angrier at you then I am. Second, why would I want to grow you back? You’re a menace to this neighborhood, and I was waiting for the chance you’d mess up and go for the witch’s house.”
Arthur opened his mouth to speak, before he felt the ground rocket away from him. Moments later, his body impacted a soft ceiling, before the object closed around him.
With Arthur in hand, Hazel sauntered back to her couch. Tossing the tiny onto her table, she fell back onto the couch and rested her feet in front of him, causing the tiny to recoil in fear. He stared up at the enormous boots reaching high into the sky. The worn sole was lightly sprinkled with dirt and stains he did not want to think about too much.
“Lick my boots, worm.”
“N…no” Arthur stared at the enormous woman silently, defying her word.
A manicured finger aimed itself at the tiny man, before a powerful bolt of lightning arced to his body. Arthur screamed in agony as bolts of electricity raced across his body. He fell to the ground convulsing as the witch’s power blasted across him.
“I told you to lick, and I expect you to get it through your stupid little head that you don’t get any say in what I tell you to do. Geez, did you get the brain of a bug too?” Hazel groaned as she fired another quick blast of lightning, further torturing the tiny.
As the electric shocks waned, Arthur weakly groaned. Struggling to his feet, he shambled to the rugged rubber sole of her shoe and began to lick the filthy sole. When he returned to his senses, his pace increased, scrubbing the dirt and debris clinging to her sole. Dirt and the taste of filthy rubber filled his mouth as he lavished her shoe sole.
After a few minutes of dutiful worship, Hazel began to unzip her boots. A pungent smell filled Arthur’s nose and lungs as she set her stuffy bare feet onto the table. As he stifled a gag, he turned and tried to run. He was only able to take two steps before another painful burst of electricity crackled across his body. As he fell to the ground, he felt his body get sucked into the air and sent flying into her sweaty foot with a small squelch. Putrid sweat coated his body as she used telekinesis to rub him across the soles of her feet.
“I don’t get why the fuck you’re not understanding your position. You. Are. A. Bug. You cannot escape, and every time you try, you’re just managing to piss me off even more, which for you, could mean the difference between life and death. So quit trying to resist and do as you are told!”
The rubbing forced his mouth open, brushing salty sweat and grime into his mouth. A whole new disgusting palette of tastes flooded through his body as she forced him to intake more of her filth. Hazel lazily waved her finger, manipulating the tiny across her large soles.
Several minutes of this idle torture went by, rubbing his face raw as the rough patches of her feet scraped across his body. As Hazel became satisfied with her toy, she released her telekinetic hold, relaxing as the tiny dutifully carried on worshipping her as if nothing happened. Sweat, dirt and rough patches slowly began to vanish as she felt his tiny tongue and limbs working away at soothing her stuffy feet.
An hour passed, and Arthur exhaustedly
clung to her sole, unable to continue. Leaning forward, Hazel snatched a candle
from the table. Lighting it with her finger, she gently swirled it around as
she waited for wax to melt. Grabbing the tiny off of her foot, she undid her
hair, removing the elastic band holding her ponytail together. Grabbing the
tiny and her hair tie she began to wrap the elastic band around his limbs.
Settling the bound tiny on her table, she began to laugh.
“Oh my god you look like a
fucking bug! Like a little worm! Time to make you squirm.”
Picking up the candle, she gently tilted it, allowing a bead of molten wax to drip from the flame down to the tiny. As the bead trickled down, Arthur began to scream. Frantically squirming, his screams turning to painful squeals as the molten wax burned into his skin. As the hot milky liquid cascaded over his tiny body, he wildly flailed and squirmed around
“Squirm worm squirm!”
Another glob of hot wax splashed down behind him as he squirmed. Despite his attempt to escape, Hazel simply moved her hand before pouring a steady drizzle of wax across his body. Lines of hot liquid seared into his skin, causing him to curl up in pain.
“Please! Make it stop!” Arthur sobbed.
“Ok!”
Hazel set the candle down, leaving the battered tiny in a pool of hardening wax. The witch dug her fingernail into the side of the wax mass, dislodging Arthur from the splatter. As she picked at it, her finger slipped, scraping across his burned back. Arthur screamed in agony.
A cruel smirk grew across Hazel’s face. Wordlessly, she scraped her thumb across his back, scoring the wounded skin with her sharp nail. Arthur’s attempt to escape was effortlessly suppressed as she pinned him down. The sharp, manicured purple nail scratched through the skin, leaving deep, red scrapes into his wounded back. Chuckling to herself, she gently pressed the tip of her index finger, letting the oils and sweat of the digit seep into his wounds, stinging them. Arthur squealed beneath her as she let her finger stick to his bloodied back before peeling it off, pulling and tearing at damaged flesh as she unstuck her finger. Wiping the blood off of her finger, she rolled the tiny over onto his back, prompting another labored groan from the battered tiny.
Arthur watched as the enormous witch rose into the sky. She smirked as she started back down at the bruised tiny laying so far down on the coffee table. Unable to move, he could only watch as his captress cheerfully pondered new ways of tormenting him.
“Y’know, another part of me needs some loving.” With her words, she turned around and flipped up her skirt. Large even to normal people, her vast ass was truly monumental to the helpless tiny. Her black panties left little to the imagination, the black strip of fabric barely serving merely to decorate the vast crack, rather than covering much.
Arthur sat mesmerized on the table as he watched Hazel’s ass teasing him in the sky. The enormous cheeks wiggled and undulated high above him, as she teased the tiny. The witch playfully slapped her ass, laughing as he jumped from the audible crack.
Satisfied with her teasing, she slowly began to lower her ass down. Arthur started to squirm but was stopped by the searing pain of his back. With no way to escape, he could only watch as his world became blanketed in shadow as the witch began to sit down.
With a mighty thud, her ass slammed down on the tiny. Despite the tremendous pressure forcing the air out of his lungs, the tiny sank into the supple ass flesh, spared death by the softness of her cheeks.
With his head just barely inside of her crack, what little air he could get was tainted by the smell of her ass. With his limited range of motion, he tilted his head back, revealing the source of the stench. Right above him, partially covered by the thong was her asshole, the enormous, wrinkled hole taunting him. Suddenly, his world began to shift as Hazel adjusted her position. As the pressure lifted, Arthur stretched his legs just in time for her ass to lower back down. Unbeknownst to Hazel, his legs became jammed in an awkward position. He screamed for her to stop, but his tiny shouts only tickled her asshole as she reoriented herself. Settling down, the full weight of her ass crashed down on her legs. Both of his legs twisted and snapped like twigs, blasting Arthur with searing pain. She giggled as she felt the tickles on her anus.
“That feels nice bug! Start worshipping it! I want to feel good!”
With nothing else to do pinned under the gigantic ass, he began to lick the grimy folds of her ass. The taste of ass-sweat and other things he didn’t want to think of filled his mouth as he weakly attempted to clean her. After only a few minutes, he laid back, panting as he struggled to breathe in the boiling humid environment. Hazel frowned.
“Get back to licking my ass.”
Arthur struggled against his exhaustion and broken legs. Attempting to stay conscious, he propped himself up with his arms and tried licking again, wiping away some more grime with his tongue. As another wave of exhaustion overtook him, he collapsed back down. Groaning, Hazel stood up, her ass sweat briefly adhering him to the surface before he peeled off and landed back on the table with a painful thud. She stared down at the battered tiny with his shattered legs bent in unnatural angles.
“Oh, guess this ass was just too much for a little bug like you. Come to think of it, no bug I’ve ever used it on has survived its power. Guess you’re no exception.”
With a slight frown, Hazel placed her hand next to the tiny. Arthur stared at it for a brief moment before her enormous palm slammed into him, sending him flying off of the table into the air. After a few moments of sailing through the air, Arthur rolled to the ground, writhing in pain from his broken legs. As his vision doubled, Hazel’s enormous figure strode into view, appearing more as a goddess than anything resembling himself. She casually rolled him face up with her boot. Staring down at the miniscule creature at her feet, she spoke.
“Well, it seems that you’ve about outlived your usefulness. I could heal you, but that would require a potion I don’t feel like making, so… I’m done with you. Goodbye, worm.”
“No… Wait!!” Arthur hoarsely screamed as his view of the witch was replaced with the lugged underside of her boot. Dirt and the faded remnants of crushed insects rained down as the black wall fell from the sky.
Arthur attempted to squirm out of the way, but the lug of her boot pressed down onto him, snuffing out his final chance of escape. His screams turned to pained moans as the unmovable wall began to squeeze life out of him. Unable to move, Arthur began to quietly sob as the pressure mounted. Moments later, his nose shattered, blasting him with a new wave of pain. Bones began to twist and break, and his organs painfully flattened. High above, Hazel bit her lip, stifling a moan. With a relaxed sigh, she shifted her weight onto her victim. Arthur burst like a grape, his bones shattered, mushing his organs into a fine slurry. His cracked skull embedded itself into the treads as her boot liquefied its victim. Hazel dragged her foot back, smearing a red scuff into the ground with a wet squeak. His skull dislodged itself and fell beneath the lug, shattering into a smaller squirt of viscera. She admired her work, a dark crimson line smeared on the wooden floor, embedded with chunks of viscera and the remains of his clothes, the only evidence the boy had been to her home.
Grabbing a wet wipe off of the table, she bent over and carefully wiped the remains off of her floor and her boot. Stopping for a moment, she looked over the sole of her shoe, admiring how the tiny’s body crushed and embedded itself between the lugs of her shoe, before wiping it away, erasing all evidence of the tiny who’s life she brutally snuffed.
As she dropped the crimson-soaked wipes into the trash, she sighed delightfully as she walked to the porch. Looking around the quiet street, she smirked as she waved her hand, watching as the candy strewn across the porch magically returned to the bowl, now topped with the abandoned pillowcase. Picking the bowl up, she returned indoors, locking the door behind her. With another successful Halloween concluded, the witch set the bowl on the table, covering up the wax splatters and walked upstairs, eagerly awaiting the coming November.