Under Daisy - New! - Part 1

She wore black knee high leather boots with 3 inches very sharp high heels. They had leather straps and a long zipper on the inside. The soles were made of pale leather, and it was burned from cig buns and scratched from walking in the driveway of the bar was working at. She had black nylon stockings fitting her nice long legs, diving under her black short skirt. She wore a tank top, showing her perfectly tanned belly and shoulders. Her twirly brown hair with blonde stripes were almost reaching the middle of her back. Her huge lips arbored a red glossy lipstick, her green eyes flickered, batted by long eyelashes. She had cutting edge fingernails and was holding her cigarette, exhaling the warm quality tobacco intoxicating smoke. She was leaning her back on the brick wall, it was a hot evening and the customers, mostly regulars, were loud and idiot as usual.

She really enjoyed playing with my minuscule one inch naked shrunken human body with her tongue while smoking. She loved it. She had me in her mouth, sending me under her sharp teeth, chewing me gently, then caressing me with her tongue. I sometimes would hold on the barbel piercing on her tongue, especially when she would bring the cigarette to her lips and inhale. The smoke would evade her mouth and all around me, disappear inside her huge giantess body, then come back and out of her mouth, me filtering it, along with her taste buds and lungs. Then the gentle chewing would resume, and her tongue would move me around with ease, its incredible strength irresistible.

Her cigarette was almost over, that meant only one thing: she would spit me out slowly, engulfing me with her saliva and dropping a big ball of it to the ground, with me inside. Then she would toss me a paper towel so I could dry out. She would let me in her boot along with saliva, she wanted me dry and clean to be under her foot, inside her boot. She did as expected, spat me out and I fell down and splash-splurted on the ground. The paper toilet paper landed on top of me. It was a small piece. She pressed me down with it, absorbing the saliva and cleaning me on the concrete floor of the bar’s backdoor. She then tossed the paper on the bin. They all looked at her, especially at me.

“Crush her along with the cigarette bud, Daisy. I like it when you do that.” Said Gary, the bar’s bouncer. He liked to stay and look at the city while she was smoking.

“Okay.” She said from above me. I immediately knew what was going to happen. She bent down, her huge breasts almost taking all my view. And place the smoking cigarette filter next to me. I was on my knees, looking up at her giant body. She then tapped me gently on the head like one would do for someone they care for, and she smiled at me. She then winked and stood back up at her marvelous height. She stepped closer and slowly brought the sole of her boot above me and my cigarette bud companion. Lowered her foot slowly above me, she then placed it fully down, crushing my under the sole along with the cigarette. She twisted, and applied weight. She knew I wouldn’t crush like a berry, my body was strong and durable from the shrinking process. She just leaned in on over me, trampling my naked body into the pavement, tobacco residue and drying saliva being crushed completely around me.

“Sweet.” Said Gary from above. He chuckled. He enjoyed when she would inflict that torment on me. I wasn’t in so much pain, but it was painful enough. She liberated me from the bottom of her boot and bent down to unzip the left one. She picked me up with her nails and brought me up and fast away from the debris she just crushed. Then she forced me inside her boot, at the zipper’s lowest end. She had very high arched feet and I would simply fall into the boot under her foot. I tumbled and immediately felt the heat and smell from her foot all around me. The trapped, encased leathery nylon smell, along with the incredibly powerful stench of her foot was all around me and assaulting me. I was used to that smell, being inside her boot all day long everyday, all the time, but each time, after smoking, the smell would feel different, more powerful, like if I had lost habituation in the meantime. She looked at me through the small hole and smiled again. She zipped the boot up slowly, very slowly back all the way up, sealing me inside her leather boot, ready to go back to work, inside, as a waitress bartender, for hours in a row.

To be continued...