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TFF1976 - You Guys Are Back Again
Blurb: Em finds the same little gathering already on her lounge floor. She thought they had learned, but they have returned, so she spends the afternoon under her black heels, bare soles and finally between her lips.
Em drops to her knees on the boards and sees the cluster of tiny suits already waiting by the sofa. She rests her chin on one hand and smiles without warmth. “Urgh… you’re back again. I thought you had learned. You guys…” The tinies are no bigger than her thumbnail, some already flat on their backs from the earlier steps she has not yet noticed. She stretches one arm out, palm open, and the nearest figures tip toward the shadow of her fingers. The skirt pools around her thighs as she shifts closer, the black tank top dipping so they can see the soft line of her chest from below. She flicks one with a fingertip, sending him rolling toward the others, then gathers two more into her palm and holds them up where they can watch her mouth.
She stands and steps into the black heels. From their height the platforms are dark towers; she plants the first sole so the edge covers three of them at once, the weight settling in slow stages until the boards creak under the thin stiletto. She walks the length of the sofa, each step finding another figure, the heel tip pinning one while the platform sole flattens the rest. When she tires of the shoes she slips them off and sets the bare feet down. The soles are warm, the toes unpainted, the arches high enough that a whole group can fit beneath one. She presses from the ball to the heel, lifts, and sets the other foot in its place, rolling her weight so the skin of her sole prints across suits and faces. The tinies who remain free try to scatter; she simply steps again, covering them under both feet until only the edges of their arms show at the sides of her toes.
Back on the sofa she lies on her stomach, chin propped on one hand, and studies the last figure she has kept. She rolls him between thumb and finger, watching him twist, then opens her mouth and places him on her tongue. The lips close, the tongue shifts once, and she swallows. Em rests her cheek on her folded arms, eyes half-closed, the patterned skirt still hiked, the discarded heels lying on their sides by the sofa while the empty floor holds only the faint marks of her soles.
giantess, heel crush, foot crush, sole crush, barefoot, multiple tinies, vore, shrunken men
Blurb: Em finds the same little gathering already on her lounge floor. She thought they had learned, but they have returned, so she spends the afternoon under her black heels, bare soles and finally between her lips.
Em drops to her knees on the boards and sees the cluster of tiny suits already waiting by the sofa. She rests her chin on one hand and smiles without warmth. “Urgh… you’re back again. I thought you had learned. You guys…” The tinies are no bigger than her thumbnail, some already flat on their backs from the earlier steps she has not yet noticed. She stretches one arm out, palm open, and the nearest figures tip toward the shadow of her fingers. The skirt pools around her thighs as she shifts closer, the black tank top dipping so they can see the soft line of her chest from below. She flicks one with a fingertip, sending him rolling toward the others, then gathers two more into her palm and holds them up where they can watch her mouth.
She stands and steps into the black heels. From their height the platforms are dark towers; she plants the first sole so the edge covers three of them at once, the weight settling in slow stages until the boards creak under the thin stiletto. She walks the length of the sofa, each step finding another figure, the heel tip pinning one while the platform sole flattens the rest. When she tires of the shoes she slips them off and sets the bare feet down. The soles are warm, the toes unpainted, the arches high enough that a whole group can fit beneath one. She presses from the ball to the heel, lifts, and sets the other foot in its place, rolling her weight so the skin of her sole prints across suits and faces. The tinies who remain free try to scatter; she simply steps again, covering them under both feet until only the edges of their arms show at the sides of her toes.
Back on the sofa she lies on her stomach, chin propped on one hand, and studies the last figure she has kept. She rolls him between thumb and finger, watching him twist, then opens her mouth and places him on her tongue. The lips close, the tongue shifts once, and she swallows. Em rests her cheek on her folded arms, eyes half-closed, the patterned skirt still hiked, the discarded heels lying on their sides by the sofa while the empty floor holds only the faint marks of her soles.
giantess, heel crush, foot crush, sole crush, barefoot, multiple tinies, vore, shrunken men
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