Soccer girlby poppyAfter a hard session at the soccer ground, there was nothing that Chrissy likedmore than a nice foot massage. Having dumped her bag in the hall, she went intoher lounge, and flopped heavily into a comfy armchair. 'Hey,' she shouted, 'whatabout a bit of a massage here?' There's no answer, but Chrissy already knowsthis - because this massuese is trapped in a used coffee mug on the coffee tablebeside her.
'Oh, I forgot,' she says, and leans over to leer down at him, 'it can't getout.' Inside the cup, staring up terrified, is a naked little man, barely acouple of inches high. Mockingly, Chrissy reaches out and shakes the cup,jiggling his tiny body cruelly. She grins down on him with her mighty teeth,before tipping the cup upside down, throwing the naked man onto the ground.
He makes to escape, screaming a small scream, but Chrissy moves her monstrousmuddy training shoe toward him, pinning him down under its great, flat expanse.
He struggles, pathetic, trying to push away the great object - Chrissy ignoreshim, smacks him against her sole to shut him up. 'Now, like I said, what about amassage?' She lifts up the other foot and pulls off her size 10 shoe to reveal aless than perfumed foot, draped in a holy, sweaty sock. Casually she pins herscreaming victim under this one, and removes the other shoe. 'Aaaaah, just thething,' she says, flipping the boy onto his back with her big toe and sinkingher big sole down deep into his writhing body.
She lies back and enjoys the sensation, pressing him flat with the ball of herfoot, driving and wriggling to ease her aching muscles. However, she isespecially achy today - perhaps a little extra something... ? Having an idea,she reaches over the armchair to grasp her trusty soccer ball. 'I think we needa bit of curvature here,' she says, releasing the captive, turning the ball overin her massive hands. She quickly peels both socks off, and then thumps themdown violently on either side of him, making him ball up. 'Right, if you don'tdo any better this time, I'm gonna mash you to pulp.'She picks him up, and rubs him against the sole of one upturned foot, coveringhim in her sweat. Now sticky, he adheres nicely to the surface of her old ball,his little belly and dick curved out as if to invite her attentions. She puts ahuge finger on his dick and presses threateningly.
'Now, massage good, little bug.' She puts the ball on the floor, his bodypresented to her, and brings one massive bare sole down on him. The hot smellenvelopes him, and desperately, he writhes, in a mixture of terror andobedience. She smiles and rolls him back on forth across her tired arch, hissticking and peeling off from her pleasingly. If he stops, she brings her greattoes down on him, driving her big ugly toe into his pert little tummy, makinghim squeak and struggle. She rolls him alover, back and forth, rubbing him hardinto her cracks and crevices. However, it's inevitable that he'll wear outsooner or later, and feeling much better, Chrissy realises she has a phonecallto make before tomorrow. She leans forward and looks at the exhausted mandismissively.
'Don't think it's working anymore.' She pokes it, and unimpressed with theresponse, leans back once more. 'Well, don't want to waste it.' She slowlyraises one foot, and brings it down with relish, engulfing the boy completely.
Pressing hard now, she smears him back and forward on the ball, squashing downdeep and roughly with her toes. Stretching all five of them out, she feels adeep itch in her muscles, and drives down hard with her sole to eliminate it,surging down with all her might. The boys screams are soon no longer audible ashe is crushed to a hot paste underneath her, crunching like a ripe plum. Finallyshe slows, rests for a minute on his remains - then she's getting up and walkingaway, ignoring the tiny object that falls from her sole as she leaves.