“You toyed with me, little man.  You don't get to do that to me," Carla said to the dealer.  "I offered you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams, and you played with my emotions, and then when push came to shove, you backed out."

Matt looked at the small woman sitting at his blackjack table. She was wearing a black top with zippers as a part of its design. Her cleavage was massive and in full view.  A zipper could control how much she showed, and it was all the way down. She was leaning against the table, so it was in full view. His eyes couldn't help but dash down and look. She caught his eyes looking.

"See what you missed out on. I would have shown you a really good time. My husband is aware of who I am and doesn't try to control me.  He wouldn't dare try. He accepts me for who I am."

Mark snorted.  "There always another like you. I'm not worried. Women like you come in here all the time."

Her look turned dark. "Oh, no, I assure you, I am not like the others you've toyed with.  This will end badly for you." She walked away and he saw the high heeled boots she was wearing. She looked sexy, and she knew it by the way she walked.  He muttered under his breath, "Bitch."

He was in the high limit room and tapped out for his break. He decided to hit the bathroom in that area, before heading to the break room.  He was zipping up when he heard the door open. High heels clicking on the tile he turned to look, expecting to see some drunken woman had go into the wrong bathroom.  It happened.

He was able to register that it was Carla from earlier.  Her eyes flashed, literally flashed, and he lost consciousness.

He woke to find himself laying some something cool and hard.  It looked beige. He stood up and looked around.  The space was surrounded with white. It was cool to the touch, and he could see different colored spaces in an odd pattern. Each one surrounded with white.  Some of the spaces were dark brown. Suddenly it clicked as to what it was.  The bathroom floor tiles!  But how was he so small?

Carla!  She had doped him or something. Sprayed him with pepper spray or some bullshit.  This wasn't real. It was some sort of hallucination or dream.  Suddenly, he heard and immense groan, and covered his ears.  

"Anyone in here," came the thunderous feminine voice.  A loud clack and a whooshing sound almost drove Matt deaf.  He watched as the colossal form one of the cleaning crew walked past him at a impossible pace.  She was headed to the toilets. He thought about trying to get her attention, but he was afraid that she might think he was some sort of bug, and just get stepped on.  Plus, there was some part of his brain that made him wonder if this was real.  It couldn't be, but there was too much of it that seemed real.

While the mammoth attendant was checking the farthest areas, he figured to get out of here while he could.  Besides, was the shift that would mop the floor? He'd get smeared across the floor if that happened!  No. He didn't want to die, even if it was a dream.  He had to think. He couldn't stay here.

Maybe hide under the water fountain?  People didn't step there, and the only thing he had to worry about was the vacuum cleaner, which wouldn't be run for several hours anyway. Maybe this would wear off, or he'd wake up by then. If nothing else, it gave him more time to plan. Matt started running. He ran by what looked like a huge "wet floor" sign from this distance.  So, he was right about the mopping on this shift.

He got to the mountainous doorway. He looked and saw the rubber sweep that met the metallic separator. He checked the seal, and it was pretty tight and flush with the floor. He tried to lift it, but the tension was too great for his tiny form's lack of strength. No way to get under it.  He then thought about the corners.  Maybe there was a gap where his new, tiny body could fit through.  He ran to where the hinges of the door were.

It was too tight a fit still here too.  He then trekked back to where the door opened, and YES!  He could fit!  There was a tiny gap where the rubber didn't meet the frame!  He'd have to crawl on his hand and knees, but he could get out!

He pushed through and stood up on the other side.  He took a minute to get his bearings and catch his breath.  There wasn't much activity in the high limit room tonight.  That bitch Carla, and a few folks at the forward baccarat table.

The floor ahead of him was clear white. Fake marble or something. It was just there to show folks were the bathrooms were. Since it was the high limit room, it was made to look a little nicer. In between the women’s room and the men’s room, there were 2 water fountains. Because they stuck out, no one would walk there.  Maybe he could be spotted easier, because of his black and red uniform against the white flooring, but that could still work out in his favor.

He took a few steps, when a gigantic high heeled boot stepped out and in front of him. "Going somewhere, little man?"  He recognized the voice and boots instantly.  Carla!

He hadn't gotten close enough to anyone or anything to realize just how small he was.  The toe of the boot was taller than he was.  The heels sure as hell were. They looked 30 feet tall!  

His eyes continued to look up.  The black suede boots rose over her knees, and she had on some sort of black and purple leggings. Then the cleavage bearing black zipper top.  Her hands were on her hips, and she was smiling while looking down at him.  There was no charm or mirth in her smile.  Only amusement. A twinkle in her eye told him she was enjoying herself. There was a hint of sparkle in her lipstick. Dark shadowy eyes rooted him to the floor.  He was too afraid to move.  The menace she exuded was palpable.

"You know, Matt, the only real shame here, is that even at this size, you're going to make a rather big stain on my boots.  But maybe that could be good too.  Every time I look at them, I'm going to remember how good it felt to step on you."

Her voice sounded like a hurricane.  Her hatred for him like a punch.  She lifted her left foot slowly. He barely registered its movement, unable to tear his eyes off her incredible face. She waved her fingers at him. "Bye, little man!"

Suddenly his view was filled with the black sole of her boot.  For a split second he tried to run, but the massive foot came down quickly. He felt a brief, but immense, pain all over before dying.

Carla ground the tiny man into a fine red smear. She twisted the toe of her boot, relishing the feeling his bones being turned into dust. She lifted her foot away and was satisfied with the tiny stain on the floor.  She looked at the sole, and true enough there was some still there.  She looked back again at the floor. Whoever was cleaning the bathrooms usually mopped out here as well.  He'd be wiped up without a trace in a matter of minutes.

***

Carla casually returned to her seat. She felt deliciously wicked knowing that Matt's remains were ground into the carpet with each step. She hoisted herself into her seat, and crossed her legs, hooking her right heel into a rung on the chair, and her left so she could swing it freely.  She hoped someone would notice the stain before she had to undo it.

She let out a little sigh.  The only 'problem' was that her husband enjoyed being stepped on. He got off on it.  And while that was fun, it didn't have the same thrill of crushing someone who had no idea what she could do. Funny how they had the same name.

She decided that wanted him to suffer some more. A quick ending wasn't good enough for what he did.  And she couldn't afford him to go missing for too long. People might talk and ask her the wrong kind of questions.  She wasn't ready to reveal herself to world just yet.  She wanted to have some fun first.

When the end of Matt's break time happened, Carla thought him back into existence. He appeared, normal sized, right outside the bathrooms where he'd been crushed into nothing.  She let him keep his memories of what happened. "It's better that he fears me", she thought.  He started to step towards leaving the high limit area, when the dealer that was covering his break called out to him.  He looked at his watch and saw his break was over.

He turned and walked back to his table.  He saw Carla sitting at another dealer's table.  She was drinking from a glass, and waved at him with her little finger, with a red polished nail. She lowered the drink as he came into closer view, and she gave him that same amused smile. He felt like his insides had turned to water.  He froze for a second, then she turned to her cards, and ignored him.

He stood there, waiting.  He would look back occasionally over at her, and she completely ignored him. Did he imagine all that?  What had really happened?

It was a slow night, and as was custom, the bosses would send people home early.  Matt scrambled to be one of the ones to be let go early.  He was clearly under some sort of stress, or he wouldn't have imagined what he did.  Carla was barely five feet tall. Not 500. People don't just shrink.

As the supervisor came over, and told him he could leave, he looked to see where she was.  She wasn't at that table anymore.  He didn't remember seeing her leave, but clearly, she was no longer sitting in the same spot.  It was 10pm.  He wasn't supposed to be off until 3am.  He thought about going somewhere instead of home. It was a Saturday night, so a lot was still available.

He went through the employee door and put Carla out of his mind.  He changed into jeans and a royal blue polo shirt. He left the changing area and went to his car.  The employee lot was in a dark back area where people couldn't easily get to. Supposedly there were security cameras, but an incident last month revealed that they didn't work.

He was finagling with his keys, when a light came from behind him, and his car disappeared. He looked down and it was there in miniature. It looked almost like the Hot Wheels he had as a kid.  

"Not trying to leave yet you piece of shit?" Matt started to shake, and he almost felt like he was going to piss himself.  She was angry.  She walked over to him, her boot heels clicking on the asphalt.  She bent down and picked up his miniature car.  "You won't be needing this anymore," she said.  Her red fingernails carefully clutching his car, suddenly let go.  It fell to the ground with a crunch. He watched as she slowly stepped down on the broken car, and he could hear the metal twist and groan under the boot. She pushed down harder, and completely flattened it.

"Cars just aren't the same as people, Matt.  Do you know why that is?  They don't scream. The don't beg.  They don't plead.  They just crunch."  With that she twisted her boot and further annihilated his car.

He wanted to run again, but he knew that if he did, he'd get something much worse in store. She reached up and caressed his face.  "Now, where was I?  Oh yes, torturing you." She stepped back and showed her legs. "Do you like my boots, Matt?  Tell me the truth now, because you're going to spend a lot of time under one of them."

He wanted to spew out what he really thought, but his voice betrayed his true thoughts.  "They are pretty sexy," he said, astonishing himself at his honesty.  "My husband thinks so, too. They are one of his favorite pairs.  He just loves it when I crush him to paste.  Do you want to be crushed into paste, Matt?" She practically purred at him.

This time his honest thoughts didn't feel forced. "Of course not! Who the hell wants to be crushed under a boot? I'm not some bug. You and your husband are sick!"

She waved a finger at him, and made a 'tsk, tsk' sound.  "You can insult me all you want. But you don't get to say anything about him. He could have given these powers to anyone in the world. He chose me.  He didn't have to, and he probably shouldn't have, but he did anyway."

She stepped in close again and had to lift her head to look at him. "You know, you're taller than he is.  Well, when I let him be normal. But y'know, he likes being what he is now.  I didn't have to break him in. Sometimes he begs me to crush him.  And I like that from time to time."

She touched his face again.  "But I really like breaking assholes like you. You're so full of yourself. You shitheads are all the same." Suddenly he was looking up at her.  "Now, I look as tall to you as you did to me. Like the view."  She leaned in close with her breasts.  "More titty than your hands could handle now." She stood back up, and he felt himself shrink.

His head was just below the hemline of the top. He was staring directly at her vagina covered by the purple and black leggings. "The perfect size for eating me out." She pushed his head into where her pussy would be.  "I could force your entire head in there. Break your damn neck. With nothing more than a clench of my pussy."

She shoved him back, and he stumbled, but didn't fall. But she rose into the sky from his point of view. She stomped her right boot in front of him.  "A little bigger than you were before, Matt," she said confirming his thoughts.

"I should shrink you to the size of a fucking flea, but I can't feel much when people are that small. It's very frightening to people, but there's little I can do with something that small.  So instead, I'm going to leave you about this size, so I can feel you crunch under every step I take inside the casino. Aren't you grateful for that, Matt. Again, with that purring of her voice.

He started to say, "Fuck no, I'm not gonna.." when he found he could no longer speak. Instead he got down on his hands and knee and crawled to her boot. He was not in control of himself.  He kissed the black suede boot, and his mouth said, "I would be honored." He kissed her boot twice more. His mind screamed to control his body, but it could do nothing.

"That's more like it, douchebag."  Matt's world blinked, and he found himself spread eagled on something hard. Carla's giant face was looking down on him.  "You’re stuck to the sole of my boot, hun. Every step I take you'll go squish, and as my foot leaves the ground, you'll reform, just in time for me to step on you again.  Scream all you like. Only I will be able to hear you while you're solid. So please, do scream.  I like hearing it. Eventually, after an hour so, you'll beg me to kill you.  And I'll just keep walking, or standing, feeling your tiny body destroyed under my boot.  After two hours, you'll stop screaming, and that when I turn up your pain receptors. And the fun start all over again. Well, for me anyway.  It's pretty much gonna suck for you.  By the end of the night, well, you'll be a broken shell of whatever I decide leave behind."  Carla stomped her foot down, lifted her boot back up, and made him reform. "Next time, think about who you fuck with."

She walked back to the casino, enjoying the tiny crunch noise her right foot made every time it hit the ground.