Gift Box (Patreon)

Some family things have me behind on my writing this month, but I'm pushing to wrap up everything I'm working on. It's extremely possible that there will be up to four stories finished in the next three days (if all goes well!), so keep an eye out, hmm?

*****

He was a gorgeous creature, objectively speaking. That wasn’t why I was letting him in my room, but it didn’t hurt that he was easy to look at.

His first message to me was direct in a way I appreciated. “I would love to have the honor of buying you a pair of boots.” I denied him the privilege for a long while, but it made for a good opening line. There’s little I love more than fashionable gifts for my feet, and he was going to deliver his gift in person.

I opened the door without a word after his knock and looked him over with a little grin. He was small and slender, like I guessed from his pictures, and the extra four inches from my adorable grey ankle boots left me a full head taller than my little guest. Looking down on him already felt natural. He started to greet me but I cut him off. “Don’t speak unless I ask you to, toy.” It wasn’t spoken with any malice, just a simple reminder before I let him in.

He carried two boxes, one large and one small, and I was almost certain what each one contained. He followed me as I settled on the edge of my bed. I suggested he have a seat, and he didn’t seem confused by the lack of a nearby chair. I smiled a little more while I watched him sink to the floor.

“Why don’t you show me what you’ve brought?”

He was eager and I expected as much. There was a practiced reverence in his movements as lifted the lid from the box.The boots were exquisite, long and gleaming and black, with the towering heels and platform soles and excessive heavy buckles that screamed dominance and power without a hint of subtlety. They were impractical in every way, and perfect for me tonight.

He started to lift one from the box but I held up my hand. “Open the other, pet. I want them to watch.”

The wicked little grin that flashed across his face would have been at home on mine. He lifted the second lid and I could feel my eyes widening as I watched in fascination, captivated by the things inside.

We didn’t have minis where I lived. I’d never seen one in the wild, but I’d watched plenty of videos--questionably legal clips on locked Instagram accounts showing the little things cowering before massive shoes, being trampled and smashed like insects underfoot.

A half-dozen of the little things stared back at me, blinking in awe. I kept my gaze locked on them as I softly directed my larger plaything. “Put my boots on.”

His tender hands slipped the first of my short boots from my foot, and while he worked on the second I couldn’t resist sliding my hot, bare sole along his cheek, teasing the man and feeling his perfectly styled hair slipping between my toes. He shuddered slightly at my touch, naturally turning towards my foot’s warmth, but I pulled away before he could do anything more, letting him focus on pulling my new boots up to my knees, adjusting each buckle with meticulous care, leaning in so close that his shaky breath fogged the patent leather.

“Do you think they know what’s going to happen to them?” I reached out and grazed by nails along the back of the boy’s skull when his work brought him close to my knee. He shrugged a bit, running his fingers along the back of my leather-wrapped calf before glancing up at me. I planted the sole of my boot on his shoulder and pushed him back just enough to make room, then rose up from the bed, enjoying the feel of standing over this lovely man while a dozen tiny eyes looked on.

“I think they do, but let’s make sure.” His lips parted faintly as he watched my boot rise, and maybe I half-imagined it, but I thought I heard some tiny squeaks of terror when I moved my foot over the box. Even I shuddered a bit as I started to step down.

I took it slowly, enjoying the sight of them scrambling. My foot barely fit in the box, so they had to push to the edges or take shelter under my arch. I imagined them staring up, seeing the brand new unblemished sole of my boot lowering towards them, stepping down without mercy or concern for their silly little lives.

They understood that my boots were meant to end them--that they existed for one reason only. They were for me to crush.

I kicked the box over and sighed with happiness as they spilled out across the floor. I could have pushed them together and smashed them all with a single stomp, but I wanted to take my time. I circled slowly, letting them tremble with the heavy thud of my steps. A few tried to bolt but it was easy to sweep my boot across, smashing the side of my platform sole into them and sending them to the floor bloodied and dazed.

I focused on the last one I kicked, watching her clutch her bloody face. I slowly covered her with my toes while she writhed on the ground and noticed my full-sized toy crawling forward, lowering his head towards my boot while he stared in eager anticipation.

“Kiss it.” A firm and simple demand as I held the little life underfoot. While is tender lips lingered against I shifted my weight and stepped down--we both savored the subtle crunch. His kisses were harder, more passionate until I suddenly pulled my boot away.

Before he could move I dropped my foot firmly on the side of his head and pinned his skull to the ground. “You’re just like them,” I purred, grinding my boot back and forth, smearing the gory bits of the tiny woman along his cheek. “You’re a thing for me to crush.”

I watched him twitch and moan under my foot, but then, to my surprise, he spoke. “They’re running!” It came out as barely more than a whisper.

I turned about, took one step forward and smashed the mini who was furthest along with just a little tap of my toes. His spasming half-broken body amused me for a moment before I stepped down again and finished him off with a firm twist.

They fled in every direction, but there were only four left and I was thousands of times their size. They were slow, pathetic insects before a vicious goddess, and I treated them as such. Every avenue of escape was cut off by the tremendous crash of my massive boots.

“Die,” I murmured softly while splattering another under a firm stomp. “Die,” again as I kicked one across the floor and watched it skid into the side of my pet’s leg. I crushed it as I walked, flattening it with a single step as I came back to my guest.

“Jealous?” He’d stretched out on the ground after I stepped on his face, and I lifted my boot to show off the wet mess clinging to my sole. “Don’t you wish this was you?”

Before he answered I stepped down hard on his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. I didn’t need conversation. I wiped my boot on his nice button-up shirt and turned to finish off the last two scampering minis.

I taunted them mercilessly. I pushed them around, knocking them to floor again and again. I broke them piece-by-piece, using the very tip of my toe and the heel of my boot to pulverize their little limbs so I could watch them thrash and cry. There was barely anything left by the time I dragged my boot back and left two reddish smears where they’d been.

Crushing them had been as much of a thrill as I imagined, but it hadn’t begun to satisfy me. I looked to the man still awkwardly splayed on his back, panting as he stared at my merciless boots and the ruin they’d caused. He knew as well as I what I expected now. He moistened his lips and swallowed nervously as I stepped across him to straddle his waist.

My stiletto sank nicely into his collarbone, and I watched him flinch from the fetid smell of death on my sole. “Every last bit, toy. I know you’re eager to clean my boot.”

We both knew how revolting lapping the smashed bits of gore from my sole would be. We’d talked about it, about this very moment. Even as his tongue hesitantly met my hard, bitter sole, I knew this wouldn’t be where we ended.

The desire to crush still pounded through my body. I’d had a delicious taste, but I wanted more and there was still a lovely man already trapped beneath my boot. I couldn’t resist starting to lean forward, pushing my foot more and more towards the ground. He didn’t dare stop licking until the back of his head hit the floor and my boot kept pressing down. His nose bent awkwardly underfoot and his head slightly turned. His little pained gasp sent electricity through my limbs.

Neither one of us knew how much of him would walk away at the end of the night. He was just another worm under my boot, vermin helpless at my feet, and we were both right where we belonged.