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Friday, August 16th,

I had the dream again. How many does that make now, a hundred? More? I’ve lost count. Every night it’s the same. Sure, the details are always different; but every night it’s the same person and the same gruesome fate.

It started like any other nightmare, my eyes opened and I was just there. In my living room, looking the same as it always did. In my head it was like I was always there. How’d I get there? I don’t know, but I immediately knew what was coming.

The first thing I could actively remember was that I found myself staring at one of her pumps. Black, shined to perfection. In its shine I could see my reflection, the face of a terrified boy who couldn’t do anything but accept what was about to come. Then my eyes naturally veered to an opening in the shoe where her toe poked through. It wiggled excitedly. Seeing such a small part of her almost my height started to make me sweat nervously. Then I looked up.

It was a person I’d seen too many times to count. I knew that poufy red dress. It was always one of her favorites, like the pumps. And that head of wavy brown hair that surrounded her neck, I knew that too. The face was one I knew especially well. I would’ve known that mature, beautiful face anywhere. She smiled sweetly at me from on high. I knew this woman better than I knew anyone else, and yet now I looked up at her like she was a deity.

“Mom, please…” I pleaded to her. It felt like I had already tried over a dozen times to no avail. Out of desperation I ran up to her foot and pressed my lips against her toe. I figured a kiss might bring back the sweet mother I knew and loved.

She didn’t respond to my pleas. Instead her foot rose up, replacing my view of her face with the sole of her pump. In a strange moment I find myself embarrassed to be looking up her dress, even if the petticoat blocked almost everything. Then I quickly focused back to her shoe. “Please!” Tears began to run down my face.

Her foot began to lower and I heard Mom start to laugh. In contrast I started to scream. My legs wouldn’t move no matter how much I tried. My eyes couldn’t look away. I was helpless to do anything but watch. As Mom’s foot came closer it seemed like it was getting bigger, and I more insignificant. Everything around me started to go dark as her shadow loomed in. Then her foot touched down on me.

Immediately I fell onto my back, knocked aside like a bug. Mom’s foot came in the next second. Then all I could feel was pain. My body felt like it was splitting apart at the seams. My ears filled with the loud sounds of my bones breaking apart. I started to scream, cry, and panic all at once while Mom kept laughing. She just laughed and laughed and laughed and then…I woke up. My bed was drenched in sweat and I was out of breath.

I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve had a nightmare every night for weeks now, to the point I can barely sleep. At dinner I can’t even look my Mom in the eye. Ever since I turned 16…Ever since she told me…I’ve been too scared to even strike up a conversation. We both know why, and that’s what scares me. I just…I don’t know what to do. This is too much. But I guess I have no choice but to keep going.


Andy sighed, setting his pen down near the bottom of the page. His eyes proofread the book, nodding in satisfaction. Like always he felt better after putting his thoughts to the page, even if only just a little. Andy stared blankly at the book in his palms. Even now his reasons for starting a diary escaped him, but man did it help in times like these. There was something about having a confidant in these trying times that really helped him. It wasn’t a stretch to say this diary was one of the main things keeping him sane these days, even if at this point it was just a catalog of his many, many nightmares.

Absentmindedly, his fingers flicked back to the previous page. It read much like the latest addition.

 

Thursday, August 15th,

Another night, another nightmare. God, why does this keep happening to me? It’s not enough that I spend the whole day cowering before every girl I meet, but now I can’t even escape them in my own dreams?

After this one I think I’ve decided that I hate the idea of getting eaten more than anything. It was horrible, suddenly waking up on the kitchen counter, barely a few inches tall. Surrounding me were various ingredients. Bread, ketchup, mustard, slices of ham and turkey. And at the center of it all was me, the key ingredient. I remember being naked. It wasn’t weird at the time but looking back it really was.

Then I could suddenly hear singing, her singing. Over the sound of rushing water. I turned my head and there she was in her perfect little kitchen apron, singing a soft little tune with a cheery smile on her face and doing some dishes. She didn’t so much as look at me, whereas I couldn’t look away. She was just washing dishes, but…but I was transfixed. Maybe I knew what was coming, I dunno I can’t remember. All I know is when she finally turned to look at me I wanted to scream.

“Lunch time~” Mom wiped her hands clean with a hand towel and stepped over. I could feel the countertop shake with her every step. Every click of her shoes on the linoleum floor rang out louder than anything I’d ever heard. The giant form of my mother walked over a mile in a few short, easy steps, a big smile on her face as she began preparing her sandwich.

She naturally went for the bread first. Like beforehand her eyes disregarded me entirely, scanning over me time and time again with zero recognition like I was just another ingredient. She reached for a freshly cleaned knife and dipped it into the jar of mustard, lathering it onto one of the bread slices. After setting it back into the sink she placed a slice of ham over top of it. Then on the other slice she placed the turkey. I was sweating bullets each time her hand came down, certain that she would grab me next, and each time she never did. It was always something else. I watched in sheer horror as she prepared a totally normal sandwich. Like it was the scariest thing she could have possibly done. But before she pressed the slices together her finger started to tap along her lower lip.

“Golly, it feels like I’m missing something.” I was certain she was messing with me, but no. Mom really had forgotten. She squinted at her plate while trying to figure it out. “Mustard? No. Ham? No. Turkey? No…Mayo? Don’t think so.” One by one she listed ingredients, and, before long, she snapped her fingers in realization.

“Oh! Silly me, I forgot to put some Andy in there!” At long last Mom’s eyes looked at me. I remember feeling like she wasn’t even looking at a person, like I wasn’t even her son. Dread welled up in my stomach.

My legs finally managed work and I ran as fast as I could, but it was no use. Mom barely had to reach her hand out before her fingers pinched me off the kitchen counter. Compared to her tree-sized fingers I was absolutely nothing. “Now be a good snack for Mommy! I need all the energy I can get before I clean the house!” Her voice was so sickeningly enthusiastic, and loud. Very, very loud. Next thing I knew I was placed over a thick slice of ham. All I could think about was trying to run but…my body wouldn’t move. My legs, my arms, nothing. I sat there perfectly still as Mom grabbed the other slice of bread and placed it over me.

Everything grew dark. I could feel the slimy grease of the meats lathering my body in animal fat. It bathed me in it, and yet I still couldn’t move. Heck, I couldn’t even see. All I could feel was the movements of the outside world. I heard the loud clang of the plate being set down, and I felt it when my Mom’s giant fingers grabbed the sandwich. I was scared out of my mind and unable to even move my arms to hold myself. I wanted to scream but it felt like my vocal chords just weren’t there. Everything was starting to grow warm. Somewhere in my gut I knew that meant we were by her mouth.

And then…light. It blinded me. Like someone had flashed a flashlight right in my face. After a few moments my vision started to clear and I was met with Mom’s lips. She was chewing something, something really good judging by the satisfied smile she had. Up close I could hear the slosh in her mouth getting crushed time and time again by her teeth. It was a sickening sound that made me want to hurl.

I really wish I wasn’t able to see then, because it meant I wouldn’t have had to watch as Mom went in for the next bite. There has never been a moment I have been more scared than when I saw Mom’s pretty lips open to reveal that cesspool of a mouth. Thick vines of saliva trailed from the roof to the bottom as her hot breath hit me in the face. I could only close my eyes and brace myself. Her teeth came in and pressed down but…I was still conscious? I opened my eyes and blinked. She was chewing again, but on what? Then I looked down and screamed.

My stomach just…wasn’t there. My body had a clear hole in the shape of Mom’s teeth. I could see all the gore and dripping blood plain as day, and there on the other side of it all my legs looked totally normal. It was such a disgusting sight to behold, and that was before the pain set in. Once I realized what had happened I felt the sharpest, most real pain I’d ever felt in my life. I couldn’t even fully grasp it. All I could do was scream, and scream, and scream some more.

“Oh no you don’t!” Suddenly Mom’s booming voice forced me silent. I looked up to see a stern, motherly expression on her face. “I didn’t spend all those years raising a no good whiner! You’re better than that! Now be a good snack and sit still for Mommy or you’re grounded mister!”

It was so silly. Complete nonsense, but…I complied. I fearfully shut up as Mom came in for another bite. Her teeth came over my head and began to lower and then…I woke up. Just like that. Same as always.

I just…I wish it would end already. I wish Mom didn’t tell me she was going to kill me. I can’t get it out of my mind, and worse yet I can’t do anything about it! Now all I can do is wait for it, and the waiting is slowly driving me crazy! I can’t even sleep! I-

 

Andy shut the book. Reading any more would’ve just broken his spirit further. Such was the nature of his dilemma. After all, how was a boy supposed to react after hearing his own mother casually give him a death sentence? Sure, Andy wasn’t a dumb kid. He knew the stories. He knew his place in the world. He just…There was always that faint hope that he was the exception. The one man in a female dominated world that could live his life in peace. That was why when his mother finally broke the news he started to panic. Now that he was 16 he was “ready” for it, ready to be killed like a bug.

That was months ago now, and the only reason Andy was still alive was because his mother was being indecisive about it. She always insisted that she had to “make it special” and had “only one chance to do it right.” Thus far she had yet to do anything. Their relationship seemed unchanged since that conversation, but he knew. They both did. It was only a matter of time. Unsurprisingly it wasn’t long after then that the nightmares started.

At first Andy just thought it was his way of coping with the news. But every night since that fateful day he had one. Each and every night without fail. By day he would spend his time cowering before his Mom, and by night he had twisted visions of the many, many ways she could kill him. Certainly not helping was the whole shrinking aspect. He didn’t know who or what would cause it, but it was coming, and once it did he was a dead man no matter what his Mom wanted.

His fingers tapped along the binding of his diary. Venting about his nightmares in his entries was a stroke of genius. Twisted as it was to see his descriptive retellings of all his many brutal deaths they still did wonders to ease his mind. Not to mention all the practice did wonders for his English grade. “What am I gonna do?” Andy sighed, drifting his eyes away wistfully.

His eyes settled on his bedroom clock. Eight O’clock huh? Why that was almost time for…Oh no…

The next moment Andy tossed the book and thundered from the bed. How could he forget the time?! At this rate he was going to be late for school! In one smooth motion his hand grabbed his backpack and he was out of the room in a heartbeat.

Into the living room he hurried, only taking pause to greet the sole person in there. There she sat; the source of all his nightmares. “Going to school?” His Mom flashed a warm, loving smile. “You better hurry. Don’t wanna miss the bus.” She chuckled, adjusting her dark hair in the reflection of the TV.

Andy paused. The outfit his mother was wearing was the same one in his latest dream. The poufy red dress that wrapped around her neck, held in place by a white waistband. And those perfectly shined open-toe pumps…A few hours ago Andy died under those pumps. The scene played out once more in his mind as goosebumps formed along his arms.

“Andy?” His Mom turned to look at him, curious concern in her eyes. “Is everything alright dear?”

“A-Ah…Yeah Mom. Sorry. I gotta go, running late!” Andy managed to fumble the words from his mouth and hurried out. The sooner he got the sight of his mother from his mind the sooner he could focus for class.

Alas, even in school he wasn’t safe from his unpleasant reality. Class was just a different sort of reminder. Upon arriving Andy took his seat, one out of only four boys in the class. In a class of 30. It was five boys about a month ago but…Well his sister had some things to say about that. Such was life. Cruel, unfair life.

It wasn’t always like this, heavens no. In kindergarten the numbers were practically even. As the years went on however, the number of boys grew smaller and smaller. The time they shrank always varied, but their fates remained invariably the same. Now Andy was just one of the lucky four survivors. Or perhaps unlucky would be more accurate. He could feel all their eyes on him. Just waiting for that moment to find him small and vulnerable. Behind all their warm smiles and pretty dresses they were a den of sharks waiting to snap. That was what it was like to be a man in a woman’s world.

It certainly didn’t help that the teacher seemed to wholly disregard the boys of her class. After all, boys weren’t important. They weren’t smart. They were barbaric and needed to be kept in line. Such were the lessons Andy had taught to him all his life. The class was a farce, but a farce he was forced to sit through. At the very least the fear of being crushed or killed by one of these schoolgirls temporarily put the fear of being crushed by his mother out of his mind.

The reminders of his place were aplenty. A blood splatter on one girl’s shoes, a squirming bulge in one’s pocket, the sly glances Andy’s way followed by mischievous giggles. He felt like a piece of meat on display. Even his teacher, as aloof as she treated her male students, was dangerous. His eyes wandered to her stocking clad feet. Last week he saw her toes slip from those heels, revealing the crying man who was pressed against her insole. Andy didn’t know who he was or how he got there, and he knew better than to ask. He winced as he saw the man scream for mercy as his teacher’s foot slid back in and continued smothering him. Just another reminder of what awaited him any day now. Andy shuddered just remembering it.

The farce went on for eight long, tedious hours. The teacher never so much as looked at Andy, far too busy teaching the “important” girls of the class. It was probably for the best. Not like Andy was in any condition to be a model student anyway. He drifted wistfully from class to class until the bell rang. Eight hours with nothing to show for it. Now to return home and brace himself for another evening with his mother. Just his luck.

Although, nothing could have braced him for what he saw when he got home.

She was in the living room right where he left her, still in that dress, and in her hands was enough to make Andy turn ghastly white. His mother turned to look at him, a big smile on her face. “Why Andy, look at what I found when I cleaned your room. Isn’t it neat?” In her hands sat a familiar looking diary.

Oh yeah, that’s right. He was in such a hurry to leave this morning he just kinda left it on his bed. Now his Mom had it. The brunette had the widest of grins. “Would you like to join me? It’s been a wonderful read. I had no idea. I’m so flattered.” Without bothering to listen for a response she looked back in the book and began to read aloud.

 

Saturday, June 26th,

Another sick dream. What’s wrong with me? Having these wicked dreams about my own mother, and this one was so…so perverted. Even though it was a dream the way I handled it was…Man…”

Oh God no. Andy’s eyes widened as he remembered this one. “Mom please!” Her hurried over but was stopped with a commanding gesture from the woman.

“Oh don’t be such a stick in the mud Andy. Now let’s see here…” Her eyes scanned the page as Andy felt all the heat rush to his face. “Ah, here we go. Ahem…”

It started with me in the living room. I was watching the TV but not really paying any attention to it. Then Mom walked in wearing that some old dress. I’d seen it countless times but this time I just couldn’t look away. It was like she cast a spell on me, and I suddenly realized I was only about two feet tall. I followed her with my eyes, but she seemed to completely ignore me.

“What a day!” Mom moaned as she finally kicked her shoes off and flexed her feet. My heart started pounding. She began walking my way and I was captivated. It felt like I was looking at someone else. She was just so…pretty.”

Andy’s mother chuckled. “Why thank you dear. This is so nice of you!”

“Mom please stop! I’ll do anything!” The young man was too scared of his mother to just swipe the diary from her, helpless to do anything but hear his Mom gleefully torment him with his innermost nightmares.

“Oh hush you silly. Let’s enjoy this shall we?” His mother giggled and kept going.

She came up to the chair I was on and turned around. I tried calling out to her but every time I opened my mouth no sound came. I could only watch as Mom turned around, grabbed the hem of her dress and bent over.

But it didn’t end there. She…started to lift her dress. Like a dope my eyes followed it. I trailed my gaze along her calves and up her bare thighs. Were her legs always so…endearing? I felt feelings stir in my chest, feelings I wasn’t comfortable with. I just kept watching until she lifted the dress so much I could see her underwear. Her butt was right there looming over me, and it was then I had the strangest feeling that Mom was doing this on purpose. With her hands holding up her dress and petticoat, she began to sit down and…I…I just watched her do it. Like some kind of weird obsession took hold of me.”

Andy felt sick. This was just too much. His mother didn’t even have to kill him now; he was going to die of embarrassment. The woman looked far too amused as she kept reading, barely paying her son any mind. Andy could feel his body shake with anxiety or…Wait…Actually, why was he shaking? And this feeling welling up in his stomach…What was going on? “Mom…I don’t feel so good.” All of a sudden he felt like he was going to vomit.

But his Mom didn’t so much as bat an eye at him.

She just sat on me. Like I wasn’t even there. Her soft…muscular thighs just came on top of me. I didn’t know what to make of it I mean I was big enough she had to have known I was there. But she didn’t say anything. She just sat down and began watching TV.

Just that alone was enough. It felt like I had a boulder on top of me. Not a life threatening one or anything, but a really big, really heavy rock that I couldn’t move on my own. It was slowly crushing me so naturally I struggled. I mean my Mom’s panty-covered rear was smushing my face! Her perfume filled my nostrils to the point I nearly coughed and yet still no sound came from my mouth. I couldn’t push her off and I couldn’t cry for help either. I started to panic. Was I just going to suffer there forever? Those thoughts made me freak out.”

Speaking of panicking, Andy was doing a lot of that himself. The more the diary entry went on the more sick he felt. “Mom!” He cried out between bouts of nausea. She looked like she was so far away, and so big. That was when it hit him. The sudden feeling of sickness…He was shrinking! The world around him wasn’t just spinning; it was getting bigger.

I dunno if she was reacting to me or just getting more comfortable, but it was right around then that she started to squirm in the chair. All at once her huge buttocks started rubbing into my face, pressing me against the chair even more firmly. Her thighs were crushing my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Any screams I had just turned into muffled breaths against Mom’s underwear. She was grinding me beneath her like a seat cushion, and I could’ve sworn I heard her laughing.

It was so unbearable I wanted to die, and it only got worse. She seemed to get bigger as the minutes ticked by, and she seemed to grind her butt even harder. I just seemed to instinctively know that I was shrinking even further. The inches kept counting down until I was only an inch or two tall. One of Mom’s butt cheeks was enough to completely crush me into the chair. It was almost as if her skin swallowed me whole. Then and only then did I finally hear Mom’s voice.

“Give Mommy a kiss.” She ordered me in a sultry tone.”

“Oh God.” Keeled over with his arms over his stomach, Andy looked up. He had to have already lost three feet. It hurt to breathe. Hell, it hurt to do anything. But it wasn’t like his Mom seemed to care. Oh no. She was having much too much fun reading his diary. Andy grabbed his head and grit his teeth as another shrink spurt kicked in. The elated woman was over three times his height. From her chair his mother’s smile only grew wider.

I don’t know why, but all of a sudden I was calm. “Yes Mom.” I spoke without any of the problems I had before, and then I leaned forward and kissed Mom’s butt. Like it was no big deal. Just another casual little chore I was supposed to do like a good boy.

“What a good, worthless little boy.” She giggled, rubbing herself against me further. “This is what you’ve always wanted isn’t it? To be tiny and insignificant to dear old Mommy? To be in your rightful place under me?”

I just kept on kissing, unable to stop. Not wanting to stop. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was…She was right. In this dream I was so happy she was crushing me. It was like a birthday present or something. I kissed in sheer glee and she kept crushing me.

“Think I didn’t know about that little diary of yours?” Mom chuckled. “All those cute little dreams of yours. What a dirty little boy you are. It’s okay. Mommy loves you even if you’re a dirty, disgusting little perverted bug. Now…squish for Mommy like a good boy.”

I nodded and felt the pain crushing my body intensify. I was as happy as can be, and I woke up with tears in my eyes.”

Andy’s Mom finally pulled her gaze away from the book and set her eyes on the floor. There stood a small, one inch tall bug. A bug called her son. Smiling, she stood up, set the diary aside, and walked over to Andy.

It was like his dream had become a reality. Every step his mother took made the ground thunder and quake beneath his feet. Andy gulped as her pumps came to a stop right in front of him. They were meticulously shined. Enough so he could easily see his reflection. He looked…calmer than he would’ve expected. Still scared beyond belief, but there was something eerily calm about the way he looked. From the corner of his vision he could see her exposed toe wiggle eagerly.

Andy couldn’t help but look up. The sight was so familiar from all his haunting nightmares, and yet they all couldn’t compare to the real thing. His mother absolutely towered over him, standing taller than a building. Her dress blocked most of his vision, puffing out too far for him to see anything but a cloud of white petticoat. From his dreams he knew full well what sort of a face his Mom had right now.

“Mom please…” None of it could’ve prepared him for this. Andy started to shake. “We don’t have to do this…”

Silence.

“Please!” Without thought the young man ran over to one of his Mom’s exposed toes and kissed it. He kissed it with all the desperate affection he had for his motherly executioner. A wave of blinding pain suddenly hit, his mother had kicked him. He had to have flown over a dozen feet before he landed with a pain-filled grunt. It felt like the hit broke a rip or two. Searing pain blinded his vision, yet even so he could see the vague form of his Mom’s pump rise up into the air.

“Mom please! I’m your son! Don’t you love me?! Why are you doing this?”

He was answered with the very last thing he ever wanted to hear: laughter. His Mom laughed and waved her shoe over her son teasingly. “Why of course I do silly! You’re the most wonderful little boy I could’ve ever dreamed for! Why, I do think crushing you is going to be the happiest day of my life!” She peeked out from around her shoe. Andy felt his heart drop at the sight. His Mom never looked so happy. Her brunette visage was absolutely delighted by this. “I think that diary of yours helped me decide too! Now, be a good little bug and squish nicely for Mommy.”

She pulled back and the foot came down. Just like in his dreams Andy felt the fear paralyze him. All he could do was watch as the dusty, dirty sole of his mother’s pump came for him. The nightmare became reality as his mother pressed against him with her foot. Nothing in his dreams could’ve compared to this absolute agony. Bones broke immediately, shattering into fragments that lacerated his innards. Andy’s whole body screamed in the worst pain he ever felt in his life. A hell truly like no other. “MOM!!!” The last word out of his mouth was a final plea for mercy before a loud crack sounded from under his mother’s foot.

“What a good boy.” She chuckled and lifted her foot, turning it to examine. Andy was nigh unrecognizable. Just a dusty splotch of red under her foot really. The woman ran a finger along her throat and moaned. She’d crushed a lot of men underfoot in her day, but this one…this one was one she was going to remember. Definitely worth raising a worthless boy for all those years.

Smiling, the mother or rather, former mother, approached the book once again. There was still a bit more to read on the page.

I…I don’t know what to make of this. Do I…Do I want my Mom to crush me? No. Can’t be. This just a weird nightmare. It has to be right? I mean…I love Mom but I don’t LOVE my Mom. Sure she’s really pretty, and really nice and really…great and…Oh God I think I’m gonna be sick. That’s my mother! I mean, if someone had to…But…No! I just…I’m gonna forget this ever happened. Yeah, that’s it. The best thing to do is put this behind me. I need to focus on school anyway. I just…I…I gotta go.

 

As her eyes traced the final awkward words she smirked and grinding her foot on the blood splatter that was her child. “I love you too sweetie.” 

 

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