The Last of the Micrins (Chapter 8) (Patreon)

Understandably, the micrins were sent into another knee-locked frenzy where they stood, crying and protectively huddling together in enormous trepidation of those towering horizontally-rested arches and boulder-like toes idly curling beyond that had abruptly surrounded them on all sides. Sammy and Stephen especially, having previously seen exactly what those two feet could do when Diana wasn’t even trying to hurt them and barely survived to tell about it, held one another close while eyeing the only tragically-faraway escape from their current predicament: the space separating the woman’s inward-pointed toepads. Because of course running the other way toward her heels, and thus Diana herself, would’ve been unimaginably self-destructive. Even the swallowing shadows cast by those lint-flecked pithy-textured sole masses felt heavy upon the micrins’ bodies. With those twin arches aimed to one another and entrapping the essence of the giantess’s feet as well as her terrified micro-victims, the group was accosted by sweltering air and the aroma of earthy night-sweat musk.

“You can’t outrun my feet,” Diana calmly murmured, addressing the micrins directly for the first time in speech. Her tone wasn’t outright cruel, but she didn’t hide her mounting pleasure either. “So there’s no point in trying.”

Such a declaration wasn’t exactly news to the micrins, who could see the proof of how hopelessly outmatched they were just by looking in any given direction on their lowly level and seeing nothing but a dual-walled prison of wrinkly foot flesh. A few of them dropped to their knees, weeping and defeated. Stephen and Sammy, meanwhile, looked toward their slim-but-singular opportunity to get away – the open channel formed by Diana’s spread toes – and saw those peachy marshmallow-thick digits gleefully wriggle, flexing and scrunching, like a pre-emptive victory dance. The next second, both leviathan islands of the giantess’s sideways-propped bare feet began to close in. It was a slow and steady journey to bring her soles together, moving by measured fractions of an inch at a time. To the micrins, however, it felt like watching a pair of seismic skin-toned glaciers preparing to collide right on top of them.

“We have to run,” Sammy urgently whispered. “Right now.”

Leading the charge, she snatched her boyfriend’s hand in a death-grip and took off running toward that distant gateway between Diana’s still-wiggling toes. While he kept up at first, Stephen didn’t make it more than ten strides (practically nothing in the grand scheme of things) before the hysteria and haste made him stumble.

“STEPHEN!” she wailed.

The lovers’ hands were pulled away from one another, and Sammy looked back to see him sprawled on the ground – while the spot they’d just been huddled with the rest of the group was already nearly overrun by the opposing dams of Diana’s lethal firm-yet-squishy arch brawn. Her heels had touched together, lightly but still with more than enough thrust to absolutely obliterate any living thing as small as a micrin that got ensnared between. A few of the others were scrambling to pursue Sammy and Stephen, but it was clearly already too late for them, as the massive V-angled formation of the prodigious homeowner’s peds became increasingly acute around them. Knowing it was every micrin for themselves now, Sammy and Stephen had to painfully tune out the sounds of their fellows’ tortured cries for help, as they resumed their sprint away with a slight head-start. Even harder to ignore was the gristly noise of puny bodies being pinned behind them, ground up, and finally squelched to insect-like splats by the ruthlessly advancing seal of Diana’s uniting soles. That cacophony turned the miniature couple’s stomachs and made it harder than ever to keep moving, as did the echoing coo of Diana’s arousal from above, but they knew pausing for even a blink would damn their already-scant odds of survival.

“DON’T STOP!” Sammy howled. “KEEP GOING!”

“T-They’re closing!” Stephen yelled, pointing to Diana’s toes. “S-Sammy…”

“I see it! Just… don’t… STOP!”

Just a few seconds’ dash away from possible salvation, though, the couple were heart-rendingly blockaded in when the toes of the giantess’s left foot uniformly balled down against the puffy upper ridge of her sole as if clenching a fist, and thereby turned the pinkish ring-printed underbellies of those digits into an impassible barrier due to her evident lustful readiness. Nearly falling over again, Stephen diverted to the right while still hanging onto Sammy’s arm just in time to see those toes, too, bending down to mirror the other side and completely fence in the canyon. Just like that, the couple’s one shot at a getaway was squashed by the dexterous clamping of Diana’s busy digits, leaving them both to fall to their knees in another less-hopeful embrace as the sandwiching burliness of those gigantic soles rapidly caught up to them.

“S-Stephen…” Sammy tearfully whimpered.

“I love you,” Stephen affirmed, cradling his girlfriend’s cheeks and looking her straight in the eyes.

“I l-love you, too.”

The pair shared a last breath, quivering hands held, and then met their fates together at the mushing flesh-clapped reunion of Diana’s tremendous soles, which didn’t miss their mark this time. Quite a few more lives had just joined the inadvertent trophy collection of crushed micrin splotches bedecking the bottoms of those athletic feet, albeit on purpose now for the first time since the clan’s arrival in their ill-chosen refuge. Yet this undersole slaughter didn’t trouble the homeowner’s conscience in the slightest. In diametric opposition to the final mood Stephen and Sammy distressingly experienced just before their puny lives were extinguished via the inward-rushing walls of meaty arch bulk, the giantess herself couldn’t have felt more on-top-of-the-world. Exhaling heavier, her pupils dilated with engrossed focus, and that ongoing fuss in her nethers was really waking her up now, despite the late hour. She wanted more.

And luckily for Diana, she didn’t have to look very far to fulfill that impulse. Halfway across the far-flung kitchen floor, a micrin named Andrew hurriedly led a group of seven others in a race for cover under the countertop cabinets. They’d made decent progress while the giantess was preoccupied with intentionally snuffing out their kin at varying levels of elevation on the other side of the room, enough that it even looked like they might have a shot at making it back into the shadows alive before they too were noticed. Yet Diana’s sharp gaze was so well-attuned now at spotting these creatures in motion, despite their supremely inferior stature, that it only required a turn of her head and a few choice stomps forth for her to instantly cancel out the not-quite-safe distance those eight micrins had direly earned for themselves. Their sprinting pace was already shunted at the execution of each miniscule victim, impossible to ignore as those noises were, but suddenly finding themselves flanked on either side by those massive feet brought the group to a sobbing standstill. Andrew did his best to re-inspire them to continue running, on whatever one-in-a-million shot they had of slipping away in spite of Diana’s attention, but already he saw how this was likely to end.