From: d5crush
Date: Sat, Aug 29, 1998 at 15:15:36 (EDT)
Email: dalekarma@hotmail.com
The Wrath of a Priestess (part 1)
Over the last year I had developed a taste for
frequenting bars and nightclubs. I
would stare at the beautiful women and the average
women. On evenings where I had a
copious amount of alcohol I even had the nerve to
talk to some of them, this story is
about one of those nights.
I had seen her before. She always dressed to kill
and tonight was no different.
She had on a white lacy top with a short black
mini-skirt, black nylons and thick 4 inch
block heeled designer boots, the type that only
came up to her ankles. She had sandy
blonde hair, a sharp nose and soft green eyes. She
carried herself with an air of
superiority and from over-heard conversations she
believed herself to be such. When I
sat by her she was talking about the WICCAN faith
and that was my cue to say
something to her.
To my surprise she recognized me, “ Oh you’re
the shoe guy,” she said with a
slight smirk. Apparently it was more well known
than I thought, I had laid on the floor
under various women’s feet before, but I did
not think it was all over town, especially
since this Wiccan goddess did not frequent the
bars on a regular basis.
“Yes I know and those are some great ones you
have on” I said as I looked down
at her shoes. She then mentioned something about
me seeing them up close later, which
peaked my attention.
We talked for an hour about her faith. She
informed me her name was Heather
and that she was a Wiccan high priestess.
Considering the amount of Latin she was
spewing I believed her. The only phrase I
recognized was infra dignitatem, or beneath
one’s dignity. Otherwise she continued on
about how bad Christianity was and gave me
a crash course on the Wiccan faith.
After I had several Cuba Libre’s I ended up
as her footstool, with those big block
heels digging into my chin. She kept looking down
in-between her legs at me and
smiling.
“You still down there?” She said and
then proceeded to ignore me for a ½ of an
hour. Various people in the bar were laughing
about my plight, but at this point I did not
care. When she told me to get up after about 1
hour, I said that I wanted to be two inches
tall and inside her shoe.
“Be careful what you wish for.” She told
me, and then quickly got up and went to
the ladies room.
The Bartender Becky came up to me and said that
Heather was “wacked” and that
I was crazy to hang around with her and let her
step on me like that. I wondered if Becky
was jealous, she was not drop dead gorgeous like
Heather, she had a bit of a stomach, but
really long legs and a pretty, if not stunning
face. She was barefoot behind the bar having
kicked her ½ inch heeled loafers off.
“Yes she is strange and all that Wiccan stuff
I don’t believe it really, so she’s a
little nuts you are correct Becky.” After
making that statement about Heather I felt really
strange inside almost like a shiver of fear ran
through me, I didn’t really understand it,
it’s not like I said anything all that bad,
and no reason to be fearful of anything.
Heather returned from the bathroom, she sat down
turned to me and gave me a
stare that seemed to go right through me. I had to
look away.
“Homunculus “ is all she said!
“What!? What does that mean?”
“Homunculus” she repeated. “You are
going to get your wish because you
betrayed me. I am a high priestess and you have
violated the confidence and time I have
given you. You will be the miniature man and your
potential executioner will be the
bartender Becky.
I laughed, kind of giggled and said, “Okay
Heather
3;” I stopped short, how did
she know I had said anything to Becky about her?
She was the length of the building
away in the bathroom.
Heather continued giving me an intense angry look.
“You will be ½ inch tall and
stuck spread-eagle to the floor behind the bar. It’s
now 11:30pm if you make it until bar
time without her stepping on you and squashing you
to death, then you will have your life
and I will forgive you for your transgression.”
“You are kind of freaking me out here, you
really seem to believe that you can
actually do that to me.”
“Believe it homunculus!” she seemed to
fade away from my view and my eyes
hurt like I had just been swimming in a pool with
too much chlorine in it. I closed my
eyes tight until the pain started to pass, my back
felt cool and I realized I was laying flat
now, as my eyes focused again it seemed I was no
longer in the bar,
3; but wait?
An incredibly loud metallic like grinding sound
filled my ears followed by a loud
thump, it was so loud yet lower in tone than the
lowest note on a bassoon. I looked up,
my god Heather had done it, I couldn’t move
my head, but I could move my eyes enough
to see the towering figure of Becky as she had
just slammed a cooler door and had a beer
bottle in her hand. My eyes darted all around in
an instant, the way they do when I’m
driving 70 in rush hour traffic. First I saw one
of her feet, looked like it was a half-mile
away from me, but I could see detail in that foot
I never thought existed. The fine hair
looked like ropes sprouting out of her foot, and
what looked like large smears of mud on
her toes was just dirt from the floor. As she
continued to walk the moist bottom of her
foot pulled off the tile with a sound like 100
circular saws cutting into 1-inch plywood. I
tried to turn my head sideways as the foot cast a
huge shadow over me, but I couldn’t
move my head or any part of my body for that
matter. I couldn’t even guess as to the size
of that foot approaching me, I was still in some
sort of shock, but Becky’s foot came so
fast that my eyes couldn’t even adjust to the
light change from the shadow. All I could
see was some fist size stones and pools of mud and
more rock lodged in the crevices of
what looked like her heel, that heel spread out in
all directions, it was all I could see even
in my peripheral vision. I tried to close my eyes
but I could only blink, I couldn’t force
them closed either. She did it, I can’t
believe it, Heather shrunk me, and Becky doesn’t
even know I’m here, a bug on the floor.
I saw
my death approaching, started to smell
Becky’s sweat and the dirt and grime. But as
quickly as it was upon me it just
disappeared. I rolled my eyes up and looked back
towards the top of my head, I could
see all of Becky now as she was away and serving
the beer. Her foot just brushed over
me as she walked, not even coming within 25ft of
me. God it won’t even take a direct hit
to kill me; just a corner of her small toe will
finish me! I remembered Heather’s promise,
I had to make it till bar time and I’d be
allowed to live. A motion caught my eyes and I
looked right toward the bar. It was an incredibly
massive wiccan priestess, Heather, she
was leaning across the bar and looking down at me,
she had that superior look on her face
that I had seen so many times before. She then
held up her hand and crossed her fingers
and winked at me.
Wrath of the Priestess (part II)
The sound had become deafening, music playing and
people talking and laughing.
But as Heather leaned over the bar I thought I
heard her say, “See you in Hell.” I
contemplated whether it was just an idiom or if
she actually believed she would see me in
Hell. Considering the position I was in maybe I
should start believing in Hell. A large
shadow cast over me again and instead of seeing
Heather up in the sky leaning over the
bar it was the back of Becky’s heels I was
seeing. All the fiber of my existence wanted to
run, but I couldn’t move anything. Becky’s
voice thundered above.
“Where is Rob? Did he leave already?”
She asked Heather.
“Oh I think he said he was going to lay low
for awhile.” I could hear Heather’s
laughter and it slowly faded into the din of the
bar as she left Becky standing there with a
confused look.
“That chick is just completely strange,”
Becky said to a couple of her friends at
the bar. As she was talking she slid her right
foot back and rested it with her toes
pointing down to the floor against her left foot.
My senses were filled. My entire being
was like a piece of dirt on the floor. All I could
do was smell sweat, dirt and grease, all I
could see was her toes grinding into the ground as
the sole of her foot rose up and filled
what was now my sky. By the simple movement of her
foot, she unwittingly came within
inches of smashing me into the ground under the
tips of her toes. My whole being shook
internally, I was unable to move, but the pounding
of heart and my utter terror would
have paralyzed me anyway. My death loomed so close
to me, but not as close as it was
going to get.
Becky slowly moved her right foot down until the
ball of her foot was flat on the
floor. I found my voice. “BECKY! STOP”
and I proceeded to scream. But the ball of
her foot kept descending; my body was bashed as an
avalanche of dirt rolled off her
approaching foot. As I continued screaming
everything went black. But I was still alive,
my eyes adjusted to the light and I could see what
looked like huge pom poms. It was
lint between her toes. I was in a cavern not
formed by any geophysical phenomenon, but
formed by the space between and under Becky’s
toes.
These near misses continued up until last call for
alcohol. By this time I imagine I
resembled and smelled like an insignificant piece
of Becky’s foot dirt. But it was last call
and I only had a few minutes left and I’d be
okay and returned to normal! The terror of
almost being stepped on hundreds of times almost
didn’t compare to the anxiety I felt at
getting these next few minutes behind me.
“Everybody it’s time to start heading to
the door!” Becky yelled to the remaining
clientele. God I wish they would hurry up and go
she thought to herself as she lit up a
cigarette and pulled her loafers off a shelf and
dropped them to the floor stepping into
them. As she was sliding into her shoes something
strange looking on the floor caught
her eye. “Yuck it’s some kind of gross
bug,” her voice cracking and becoming more
nasal as it always did when she became excited or
agitated. She raised her foot and
slammed it down hard and twisted it back and forth
and slowly dragged it back. A
minute bit of red could be seen, most of the
creature was stuck to the bottom of her
loafer. “I got it, I smushed the nasty thing!”
She said like she had just accomplished a
great task.
My heart was in my throat and pounding as the
giant washboard pattern of tread
descended toward me. I opened my mouth but had no
voice. I heard her clearly, she
thought I was a bug. For a moment I thought I
would be spared as her foot stopped and
hovered over me, but she was just moving it from
the arch section that was over me to the
ball of her foot. For a brief moment my whole
world was the smell of rubber and then it
was mud as my face was being pushed into a gap
between the treads of her shoe, that
tread was caked with thick greasy grime. Then I
couldn’t breath and I felt my face
starting to explode and then my chest and
3;nothing.
“Is this heaven?” I said out-loud as I
observed a bright light at the end of a long
tunnel. I had heard stories of these phenomena but
being mostly atheistic in my beliefs I
wrote them off as pure superstition. I didn’t
seem to have a body either; I felt the same
as when I was stuck to the floor in the bar. I
could direct my vision but couldn’t move
anything else, in fact there didn’t seem to
be anything else to move. I now realized I was
lying flat looking towards the light, but it wasn’t
even as if I was lying, it was like I was
one-dimensional.
“No this is not heaven.” I heard a
female voice say, and then she giggled. “In
fact this is the hell I told you I would see you
in.” The light I was staring at was filled
with an incredibly huge eye looking down at me.
“You essence is now the insole of my
shoe. Your existence will now be to live and
breath my foot and you will feel the
crushing pressure and the heat and the musk, but
you won’t ever die, you are already
dead.”
“This is not possible.” As I thought
those words I was answered.
“Oh yes you will believe it as soon as I’m
wearing you out to the bar tonight.
This will be your hell for as long as I live, and
you will be in whatever shoes I’m
planning to wear any day.”
I thought about it, as long as she lives
3;at
least it will be over eventually, maybe
she’ll die young. I hoped it, hoped it with a
building rage, my anger at not being able to
move the trapped and stuck feeling was
overwhelming me, claustrophobia was
developing in me.
“I’ve been alive for 300 years already,
so don’t expect that I’ll die young! In fact
for thinking that you’re going to be along
for my 5k run tomorrow.” She laughed
uncontrollably; I could only see a part of her
beautiful face as she laughed. Then her face
was gone from my view and a nylon foot started
descending on me. I could hear her
saying to her self that she was going to give me a
break after tonight, but now that I
wanted her dead, she would never show any mercy. I
could hear a short laugh until the
sound was cut off as her foot slid into the shoe
and engulfed me. In my one-dimensional
state I could only watch as the space between her
toes and the ball of her foot descended
on me. I could tell she was walking as I could
feel pressure, and I actually still struggled
to breathe. I tried in vain to do something, but
the nylons ground into me like being
slammed face-first into a hurricane fence. I felt
myself being squished and pushed even
lower into the shoe as if that was possible. They
say Hell is a place of fire and brimstone,
but the heat that soon developed was
indescribable. It wafted off her feet like the hearth
of a Recovery Boiler. Soon all I knew was the
smell of her foot, the smell of leather and
nylon, the incredible pressure as her toes mashed
and twisted me as she walked. I had a
good job and a bright future now I was reduced to
this; the insole of her shoe. All these
thoughts flew through my head as her foot
contoured itself around me and I actually
could feel myself being bent and pushed into the
shape of her foot bottom.
Epilogue
Heather kept her promise to wear me in every pair
of shoes she owned. When I
was transmuted to a different pair I would feel
springy and okay. But that would change
as she trod on me and the heat and sweat permeated
into everything that was now me.
Weeks would pass where she would not even
acknowledge my existence; I was just her
shoe insole. Then at times she would taunt me,
have long talks with me about Becky and
all the things I could have had. When she got
drunk she would tell me to get out, get out
if you can, my big old foots coming in, this is
your last chance to run. Then she would
laugh and I would see the dreaded site of her foot
sliding in over me.
It’s been years and I’m still being trod
on by Heather, now I think I’m losing my
humanity, I feel like I actually belong here, my
thoughts are broken. Even when she’s
not wearing me I have trouble not thinking of
anything except her feet. I’m almost
starting to worship them as they grind me and
twist me in the heat, the humid odor of
them. But no I must stop those thoughts maybe
there’s hope of
3;I’m her insole that’s all
I am.