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Beth was crazy, a freak, an addict.

She thought about this as she inspected her teeth in the full length mirror. The pearly whites were stained pink, dyed by human blood. She opened her mouth wide, angling her head to get a better look inside. There was something stuck between one of her molars. A tiny bone.

Beth probed it with her tongue. It moved. She rolled it in her mouth, swishing it back and forth before swallowing. Her eyes followed the bulge as it moved down her slender throat.

They continued downwards, admiring her small but pert breasts and rosy pink nipples. Her drapes were closed. The sunlight filtering through them shone upon her, making her pale skin glow a soft orange. She smiled, her green eyes sparkling in the half light. She stood mostly alone in her apartment, naked aside from her black work heels. Her long auburn hair had been pulled into a bun, held in place with a clip. Two errant curls twisted down on either side of pretty face.

She had been home less than an hour and had already set to work on getting her fix. The droplet of blood that splashed across her left breast was proof of that. So too was the small girl that she slowly pushed against the gentle folds of her sex. It wasn’t her fault, she was an addict.

The girl was limp, a tiny Barbie doll that she had shrunk earlier at the mall. Her blonde hair was slicked to her body, her arms twisted and broken from being forced within her. Beth thrust her in deeper, gasping as her mangled body brushed against her still trembling sex. She had already come and now stood basking in post orgasmic glow, her chest rising and falling softly.

She shook the tiny creature in her grip. Beth smiled, before becoming her sex toy she had been allowed her own pleasure. The small girl had screamed as Beth tore her clothes from her, smothering her in her hand as she ran her tongue against her miniscule exposed womanhood. The girl had shuddered and shrieked, fear and arousal swarming within her.

Beth had allowed her to come before driving her deep within her own boiling sex. She smirked. The girl had been the second tiny that day to bring her to climax though the only one to do so directly.

The first had been at work.

His name was Sean, she had shrunk him in the break room before her shift. He worked in the warehouse and was engaged to her colleague Catherine. He wasn’t going to survive the day.

She had stood over him, allowing him to take in her beauty before plucking him from the floor. He was tiny, barely a fraction of an inch tall, an ant. She broke both of his legs immediately causing him to scream in pain. He was too small to hear but there was no mistaking his expression for one of pure agony. Lost in the pink expanse of her palm his tiny face was contorted, his skin purple, his miniscule mouth gaping wide.

Beth closed her hand around him, striding confidently across the office. She was on the early shift and the only member of staff in for at least a few more minutes. She knelt by Catherine’s desk, moving her black office chair back with her free hand. She glanced over her shoulder before dropping him to the floor.

She stood, straightening her skirt and rolling Catherine’s chair back into place. Her victim was at her feet somewhere, lost amid the carpet fibres. No doubt he was pleading to her for mercy. She winked down at him before turning and heading for her own desk.

From where she sat she had an unparalleled view of Catherine’s desk. She squirmed in place as the office hottie entered the room with a group of her other colleagues chattering in her wake. Catherine’s eyes were on her phone, her long dark hair bouncing as she crossed the room. She was wearing sandals with a strap, her bare legs tanned from the recent heat wave. Her hips swayed in her tight dress.

Beth bit her lip as Catherine approached her desk. She could imagine Sean’s fear as he felt the ground tremble beneath him, the titanic thuds of his giant fiancé’s footfalls growing louder as she drew closer. Catherine rolled her chair backwards and sat down. It dipped, squeaking as it took her weight. Her eyes remained on her phone. Maybe she was texting Sean, asking why he had failed to meet her before work?

Catherine slipped off her sandals, exposing her bare feet. Beth’s breath quickened, her panties had already begun to moisten. She forced herself to focus on her computer screen as it loaded, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Catherine’s red polished toes gripped the base of her swivel chair. Beth couldn’t look away as she drew herself closer. She knew Sean would only be inches away, begging his giant girlfriend to notice him.

Her foot slipped to the floor, resting on the carpet. Beth ground her ass against the fabric of her own chair. She could barely contain herself. Her heart beat furiously in her chest, sweat prickling across her skin. She ground the balls of her feet into her shoes, her toes scrunching with excitement. She felt a pop as the tiny slave she kept in her shoe was broken between them. She hardly noticed as the sensation of his lips against the hot flesh of her foot was replaced with his blood pooling beneath her.

‘Oh god,’ she whispered as Catherine’s foot moved forwards. Any second now. She trembled, her fingers gripping the arms of her chair so tight her knuckles flashed white. ‘Come on,’ she pleaded.

Catherine’s foot crept forwards, covering ground with painful slowness. Within the twisted forest of carpet Sean wept as her shadow passed over him, the heat of her foot filling the air. Catherine’s toes rose, filling the sky above him. ‘Baby please,’ he sobbed, as he pulled himself weakly through the grime.

Catherine flicked through her emails as her toes touched lightly upon the carpet, reducing her missing boyfriend to an unnoticeable stain beneath them. Beth almost exploded. She breathed deeply as she rose shaking to her feet. She crossed the office quickly, her eyes fixed straight ahead.

Her heels clicked on the lino as she fled into the bathroom, sealing herself within a stall. Her panties were soaked, her sex burning. She almost tore them from her as she sat upon the lid of the toilet. She kicked off her heel, glaring hungrily at the red smear between her first and second toe that was all that remained of her faithful foot slave.

Beth breathed heavily as she drew her finger between her toes, transferring the bloody ruin to her fingertip. She brought it to her face, her emerald eyes desperately searching for any sign of life. A bloody arm twitched, it would have to do.

‘Fuck’ she breathed as she plunged her fingers within her, driving them deep, ‘fuck.’ Her other hand was pushed against the wall of the cubicle, her throes of pleasure causing the chipboard to shudder. She came almost immediately.

The rest of the day had dragged. By the time she got home she was practically running to the cages she kept by her bed. She was desperate for her fix.

She stared down at the girl in her fist. She continued to nuzzle her against her folds, each touch sending a fizz of excitement up her spine. At least this girl had lasted longer than the other two.

They were a middle aged couple she had owned for a few days. They had tried to escape her as her hand reached into their cage. The man fought her, the woman wept. It made no difference.

She had thrown them both into her mouth. Their cries for help rang in her ears as she approached the mirror; her naked body glistening.

Beth opened her mouth, watching as they clung to each other. She forced her tongue between them making them squeak. She laughed as she watched them desperately try to climb over her writhing tongue, their arms reaching for each other as they faced the end. She closed her mouth slowly and began to chew.

They survived longer than she thought. Within their prison of flesh and teeth they pointlessly fought to avoid her. Eventually she caught a hand, a foot, an arm, a leg. She opened her mouth, delighting in the screaming mess of blood and chewed flesh that quivered on her tongue. The man was barely recognisable, the woman nothing but a torso that groaned in agony. She laughed at them and swallowed. The woman would get to enjoy being melted by her stomach acids.

Beth smiled at her reflection as she stroked her exposed stomach. She felt wonderful.

Nothing compared to feeling she got, the kick she received from being a god to these tiny humans.

She had tormented and consumed them in every way conceivable. She had smoked them, snorted them, even injected one though it had made her sick. She loved it.

 Slowly she drew the girl from her, holding her by her ankle. She hung limp, her hair a wet point, her arms and shoulders loose and broken, her eyes glazed, her neck twisted at an odd angle. A trail of viscous liquid dripped from her open mouth as Beth brought her to her face. She smiled, the girl was full of her juices.

She shook her again, hoping for some sign of life. For the second time that day she was disappointed. Casually she tossed her to the ground. The girl hit the floorboards with a sat, wet slap.

Shame, Beth thought, turning towards where she had landed. She wondered how she had died. Had she suffocated, drowned? Had she been alive when her neck had snapped or had she been crushed by her captor’s unrelenting vaginal muscles long before then? Beth sighed, she would never know.

Beth approached the corpse slowly, her heels thudding on the polished wood.

Please, she prayed, please be alive.

She wished that the girl would move, that she would flicker back to life before she was crushed beneath her shoe. Please.

She lifted her foot over her. ‘Come on,’ she groaned aloud, ‘wake up you stupid bitch!’

Was it too much to ask? All she wanted was for this stupid bimbo to scream, to look upon her as she brought down her foot and crushed her like the worm she was.


Beth scowled and slammed her foot down. Her footfall rang out across the empty apartment, smothering the sound of the creature’s bones crunching as they were ground into dust. She twisted her heel back and forth, reducing the mess of blood and gore into a slick puddle.

Beth sighed and slipped off her shoes. A black kimono style dressing gown hung on a nearby hook. She removed it and swept it around her, enjoying the sensation of the silk as it kissed her still hard nipples.

She knocked over her heel with her bare foot, revealing the sad pile of red slush that was all that remained of the young girl. Beth pushed her toes into it, smiling as blood spurted between her toes. Her other foot followed it, lifting part of the ruined remains from the wood.

She splashed her toes in the puddle once or twice before padding across the room and settling on the bed. The springs sang as she settled into place. Beth stretched out her legs, flaring her bloodied toes.

‘Slaves!’ she called in a sing song voice, ‘dinner time!’

Her eyes burned, fire and desire dancing within them as she watched a gaggle of tiny, grey shapes limp from her shoe closet. They approached with bowed heads, most limping or clutching badly healed broken limbs. All were scarred, both mentally and physically.

She swung her feet towards them raising a tiny cry of fear from the huddled mass. She leaned backwards on the bed, smiling as their hungry mouths went to work on her skin. They must be famished after consuming nothing but the dirt from the bottom of her shoes, human flesh was a treat they should get more often she mused.

Beth cast her eyes over to the cages at the foot of her bed. They were all empty, their bases stained brown with old blood. A severed hand, the size of a pin head, lay limp in the middle of one of them. She really should try and calm her habit; the neighbourhood barely had anyone left in it.

She gripped the bed sheets, their mouths tickled. Her smile grew wider. How could she quit this? Nothing could come close to making her feel they way she did when she dominated them, when she felt their tiny skeletons cracking beneath her feet, when they screamed and pleaded and wept.

It was fantastic, so much better than anything she could imagine, certainly better than having a boyfriend.

She laughed; boyfriends were something she had always struggled with. They always broke or drowned. She had lost more than a few. One had completely disappeared into her ass, that was a weird realisation.

Another she had simply forgotten. She had thrown him into one of her ankle boots and by the time she had remembered to feed him he was little more than a dried husk, one of his lower arms ragged from where he had tried to consume it out of madness and desperation.

She scrunched her lips thoughtfully; she really should wear those boots more often, they were cute.

The bed squeaked again as she reached over to the bed stand. Her slaves were squabbling at her feet, fighting over the rapidly depleting feast of fresh human flesh. She felt something crack beneath her heel, probably one that was too slow to move out of the way.

She opened her draw and removed a recently rolled joint and an ornate flick lighter. She could smell the marijuana. The drawer closed with a click. She lifted it to her ear.

‘Slaves,’ she commanded, her eyebrows forming a pretty frown, ‘shut up!’

The creatures at her feet immediately fell silent. The faint moaning of the injured was ceased with a twist of her heel. She closed her eyes.

A faint chirping reached her ears. She hummed with pleasure.

Beth couldn’t remember how many of them she had thrown into the spliff. The more the merrier, she smirked.  

She leaned backwards, feeling her slaves lips resume their worshipful meal beneath her feet. She flicked open the lighter, sparking the flint and brought the flame to the rolled tip. The scent of smoke reached her nostrils as the sound of tiny humans, screaming as they were burned alive, drifted into her ears.



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