‘I know admitting there’s a problem is the first step but I think this is more complicated. Fuck, obviously it is. I’ve been talking for ages, I feel like I’m going around in circles you know?

It’s their little fucking faces. I don’t know why but it always sets me off. There’s something just so stupid about them. It’s the way they look at you, it’s pathetic. Every time I see one I just want to smash their fragile heads in.

I guess I should learn to control my impulses more but I don’t even know if that is right. It’s not like they’re people any more, is it? I’m not doing anything illegal. These things don’t live very long apparently, so someone’s going to kill them even if I don’t.

Still, I figured I should talk to someone about it just so it’s out there you know? If I admit what’s going on then at least I know I’m not going crazy or becoming obsessed.

It only really occurred to me yesterday when I got home. There was blood all over my shoes, really soaked in. I got them cleaned off of course, might as well make them earn their keep, but I can’t get the image out of my head.

I could have left her alone but it’s like I said, something just comes over me. It was lucky really, I don’t know why I looked over but the second I saw her I couldn’t stop myself. I pretty much ran across the street to get to her.

The stupid thing was eating a pizza crust, she had her dumb face full and barely knew I was there until I was on her. My first kick pretty much killed her, you should have seen it. Her limbs were like noodles, full of broken bones and flopping all over the place. She hit the wall, bounced and was pretty much done for. I stepped on one of her arms to wake her up, the scream was intense. I just kept laughing at her as I scuffed her arm off and then took one of her legs. It looked so weird and there was so much blood. She was bigger than most Shrinkys you see, probably about six inches, but still; I hadn’t expected that much to leak out of her.

That’s why it got all over my shoes. Usually they are small enough to just leave a little stain, like stepping on gum. Once I got one so small that the entire blood splat was barely as large as a pin head. At first I didn’t even notice it against my skin, it was just the smallest smudge beneath my toe. I took a photo, it’s on my phone I think.

The woman this morning though, fuck, by the time I got her other arm and leg away she had stopped screaming and just lay there twitching. I kicked her a few times but nothing was happening so I stomped her out.

She wasn’t my only kill of the day, I got a couple of others but they weren’t as brutal. Those kills were just normal ones you know? I squashed a guy in the park, just flattened him into a table top with my hand. The other one I fucked with for a bit first. You must have seen how much these things will beg for their life when given the chance. I’ll show you later if you like.

The mad thing is that I don’t really get off on it any more. You know I’m a bit of a dom but getting these things to worship me is just second nature now. And why shouldn’t I? To them I am God. Some of them are so tiny, it’s surprising I even notice them. So having them kneel, watching them crawl across the floor and beg me for mercy, it’s just so right.

Every time I feel their lips against my foot, see them utterly devote themselves to me, it makes real sense. They should know their place, they should recognise my power over them. It’s all that much sweeter when they pop. That moment when they’ve humiliated themselves, called me Goddess, promised me the earth in exchange for their lives, only for me to hurt them anyway. That’s priceless.

I kept that second guy begging for an hour, almost my whole lunch break, before I killed him. I told him that as long as he kept worshipping me, kept his lips against my foot he could live. You should have seen his face when I then lifted it over him and out of reach. He actually jumped, if you can believe that. Even with my shadow all around him, he still tried to worship me. It was pathetic. I could have let him live I suppose but I wasn’t really that bothered.

He died like the rest of them.

I guess that’s why I’m talking to you today. It’s the fact that they’re everywhere and that anyone I know could shrink without warning. If I’m being honest I think getting diagnosed as Immune made it worse.

You know I’ve only ever me one other Immune? Literally just one, once. We’re that rare. That’s what fucks with my head. Literally everyone I ever meet could turn at any moment. I could be sat chatting to someone at a bar and the next minute they could be an inch tall, staring up at me with those stupid eyes.

You know, something like that happened at work not too long ago. I’d left the office for like, five minutes tops. When I left Gerry was prepping the room for the afternoon QBR, when I came back there he was; little and stupid. This was a guy I had worked with for two years. He had woken up that morning to a wife, a house, kids. He had ended the day begging for his life as I lowered him into my heel. I remember it was a hot day so his tiny body stuck to the inside of my big toe. I had given him the opportunity to get into that position, it’s the only place they stand half a chance of surviving.

Gerry wasn’t that lucky.

I finished the QBR without him and even though I couldn’t see him I knew he was in trouble. He was still moving but my toes were wet in a way that couldn’t be just a little sweat. There was something sharp too, like a tiny stone. It wasn’t large enough to cause discomfort but I could definitely feel it, it must have been an arm or a leg; definitely some bone that had been pulverised.

I never found out though I guess it doesn’t really matter. By the time I had finished up, walked to my car, driven home then gotten in, there was nothing left of him. The journey took an hour and I did scrunch my toes a couple of times. Whatever the case, the guy who had been Gerry at 8am was an unidentifiable blob of blood and flesh by 17.00.

It’s crazy but you’ve got to remember that for 99.99% of the population that is normal, that danger is real. A woman knocked into me on the sidewalk yesterday. I should have given it to her, she certainly deserved it, but instead I just couldn’t respond. She was mad at me sure, called me out and stormed off but who cares? That same woman could just as easily find herself an inch tall.

All that ego and attitude would evaporate into nothing if I found her then.

It wouldn’t matter what she said, what she thought, she would be mine. That person would be property, a thing no longer human. My power over her would be absolute.

 If I decided to I could end her life in a single step. Nothing that takes effort, I’d just raise my foot and lower it onto her. There would be nothing she could do. She could scream, beg, fight against me but eventually she would be pushed to the floor and pinned in place. Then the pressure would come, slowly but surely my foot would continue its journey and she would be nothing but an inch of flesh being compressed into nothing beneath it. The pain would be unbearable, every bone breaking and then breaking again, her body splitting, her flesh tearing and then finally her skull popping. The rest would be liquefied, blood and bone dust until finally my foot rested on the floor. That would be her finished, utterly destroyed, the complete culmination of her life and I would feel nothing. For me it would just be a single step, one of thousands with no significance. If I was barefoot I’d maybe get the tingle of her desperate fight against my skin but if I was wearing shoes, even something like sandals? Nothing. Her life would end without even the faintest notice.

And that’s why I need to talk about it. What I’ve just described applies to every single person I know. Every single person could be destroyed by me. It could be effortless like squishing a bug or it could be because I wanted to torment them. If I choose to be cruel, there’s nothing they can say or do to stop me.

If a woman a thousand times your size decides she is going to pluck you up between her fingers and use you as a tiny fuck toy, what can you do about it? What do you possibly have to offer her that would stop you going inside her warm, wet pussy? You couldn’t fight her, she’s too strong. You couldn’t do anything but accept that you were no longer a person, you were nothing more than a scrap of life controlled by a power infinitely greater than you are. If that power decides your fate is to drown in her juices, to be ground into paste against her clit so she can get off, that’s what’s going to happen.

And I do that you know. I fuck them all the time. You probably can’t imagine it but trust me, it is amazing. Reaching orgasm as a human life, someone with hopes and dreams, has their life extinguished by your pleasure? It’s incredible. That’s what being a God is, that’s what it is like to be me.

How am I supposed to deal with that? How am I supposed to live my life amongst these people? How can I even treat people as people knowing that at any second they could become nothing? Am I over thinking it?

What should I do?’

Her eyebrow made the smallest of movements as her gaze fell upon her remaining therapist. Beside him a finger twice his length twitched on the arm of the stuffed leather chair. Her fingernails were painted a pillar box red, her lips matching.

Far below, past her long pale legs, a team were painting her toenails the same shade from a fresh pot. Earlier in their session she had praised their work, explaining how their tiny hands achieve a much better result than a brush. That was before she had adjusted her foot, bulldozing the shrunken humans working on it. Most had managed to predict her movement and get out of the way, leaving one poor soul to be flattened beneath the ball of her foot. Another had shrieked, scrambling away from her. She had broken off her monologue to chastise him as a coward, easily catching him beneath her big toe. She took his leg then left him to groan in agony, commanding his fellows to ignore his pleas for aid and get back to work. She claimed it helped with motivation.

The therapist wasn’t sure he agreed. The leather floor beneath his feet quivered as she absently tapped a finger. When she started her endless rambling monologue there had been three members of his profession attending her. The first, most senior of them had disappeared screaming under that very fingertip, compressed into a pitiful paste when her answer was deemed unsatisfactory. A stain remained where she died, her remains licked seductively off the fingertip by a massive tongue.

The second therapist followed shortly after. The tiny woman had begged and pleaded exactly as their captor said she would. The Goddess relished in the sound as her massive lips parted, her tongue snaking out past rows of perfect pearl teeth to snatch her victim from between her fingers. She smiled as the sobbing woman was drawn within her mouth and consumed.

Now her attention was focused on the shivering man beside her hand. The colossal chair groaned as she shifted position, the slaves at her feet fleeing for their lives. Her perfectly straight hair flowed like rain as she leaned towards him. From beneath sunlight coloured bangs her eyes burned as bright as blue fire.

He whimpered as they seared into his tiny, naked body.

‘Well?’