The Wrath of a Priestess(part 1)Over the last year I had developed a taste for frequenting bars and nightclubs.

Iwould stare at the beautiful women and the average women. On evenings where Ihad 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 andthick 4 inchblock heeled designer boots, the type that only came up to her ankles. She hadsandyblonde hair, a sharp nose and soft green eyes. She carried herself with an airofsuperiority and from over-heard conversations she believed herself to be such.

When Isat by her she was talking about the WICCAN faith and that was my cue to saysomething to her.

To my surprise she recognized me, “ Oh you're the shoe guy,” she said with aslight smirk. Apparently it was more well known than I thought, I had laid onthe floorunder various women's feet before, but I did not think it was all over town,especiallysince 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 downat her shoes. She then mentioned something about me seeing them up close later,whichpeaked my attention.

We talked for an hour about her faith. She informed me her name was Heatherand that she was a Wiccan high priestess. Considering the amount of Latin shewasspewing I believed her. The only phrase I recognized was infra dignitatem, orbeneathone's dignity. Otherwise she continued on about how bad Christianity was andgave mea crash course on the Wiccan faith.

After I had several Cuba Libre's I ended up as her footstool, with those bigblockheels digging into my chin. She kept looking down in-between her legs at me andsmiling.

“You still down there?” She said and then proceeded to ignore me for a ½ of anhour. Various people in the bar were laughing about my plight, but at this pointI did notcare. When she told me to get up after about 1 hour, I said that I wanted to betwo inchestall and inside her shoe.

“Be careful what you wish for.” She told me, and then quickly got up and went tothe ladies room.

The Bartender Becky came up to me and said that Heather was “wacked” and thatI was crazy to hang around with her and let her step on me like that. I wonderedif Beckywas jealous, she was not drop dead gorgeous like Heather, she had a bit of astomach, butreally long legs and a pretty, if not stunning face. She was barefoot behind thebar havingkicked her ½ inch heeled loafers off.

“Yes she is strange and all that Wiccan stuff I don't believe it really, soshe's alittle nuts you are correct Becky.” After making that statement about Heather Ifelt reallystrange inside almost like a shiver of fear ran through me, I didn't reallyunderstand it,it's not like I said anything all that bad, and no reason to be fearful ofanything.

Heather returned from the bathroom, she sat down turned to me and gave me astare 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 youbetrayed me. I am a high priestess and you have violated the confidence and timeI havegiven you. You will be the miniature man and your potential executioner will bethebartender Becky.

I laughed, kind of giggled and said, “Okay Heather…” I stopped short, how didshe know I had said anything to Becky about her? She was the length of thebuildingaway in the bathroom.

Heather continued giving me an intense angry look. “You will be ½ inch tall andstuck spread-eagle to the floor behind the bar. It's now 11:30pm if you make ituntil bartime without her stepping on you and squashing you to death, then you will haveyour lifeand I will forgive you for your transgression.”“You are kind of freaking me out here, you really seem to believe that you canactually do that to me.”“Believe it homunculus!” she seemed to fade away from my view and my eyeshurt like I had just been swimming in a pool with too much chlorine in it. Iclosed myeyes tight until the pain started to pass, my back felt cool and I realized Iwas laying flatnow, as my eyes focused again it seemed I was no longer in the bar, … but wait?An incredibly loud metallic like grinding sound filled my ears followed by aloudthump, it was so loud yet lower in tone than the lowest note on a bassoon. Ilooked up,my god Heather had done it, I couldn't move my head, but I could move my eyesenoughto see the towering figure of Becky as she had just slammed a cooler door andhad a beerbottle in her hand. My eyes darted all around in an instant, the way they dowhen I'mdriving 70 in rush hour traffic. First I saw one of her feet, looked like it wasa half-mileaway from me, but I could see detail in that foot I never thought existed. Thefine hairlooked like ropes sprouting out of her foot, and what looked like large smearsof mud onher toes was just dirt from the floor. As she continued to walk the moist bottomof herfoot pulled off the tile with a sound like 100 circular saws cutting into 1-inchplywood. Itried to turn my head sideways as the foot cast a huge shadow over me, but Icouldn'tmove my head or any part of my body for that matter. I couldn't even guess as tothe sizeof that foot approaching me, I was still in some sort of shock, but Becky's footcame sofast that my eyes couldn't even adjust to the light change from the shadow. AllI couldsee was some fist size stones and pools of mud and more rock lodged in thecrevices ofwhat looked like her heel, that heel spread out in all directions, it was all Icould see evenin my peripheral vision. I tried to close my eyes but I could only blink, Icouldn't forcethem closed either. She did it, I can't believe it, Heather shrunk me, and Beckydoesn'teven know I'm here, a bug on the floor. I saw my death approaching, started tosmellBecky's sweat and the dirt and grime. But as quickly as it was upon me it justdisappeared. I rolled my eyes up and looked back towards the top of my head, Icould see all of Becky now as she was away and serving the beer. Her foot justbrushed over me as she walked, not even coming within 25ft of me. God it won'teven take a direct hit to kill me; just a corner of her small toe will finishme! I remembered Heather's promise,  I had to make it till bar time and I'd beallowed to live. A motion caught my eyes and I looked right toward the bar. Itwas an incredibly massive wiccan priestess, Heather, she  was leaning across thebar and looking down at me, she had that superior look on her face  that I hadseen so many times before. She then held up her hand and crossed her fingers and winked at me.

 The sound had becomedeafening, music playing and people talking and laughing.

But as Heather leaned over the bar I thought I heard her say, “See you in Hell.”Icontemplated whether it was just an idiom or if she actually believed she wouldsee me inHell. Considering the position I was in maybe I should start believing in Hell.

A largeshadow cast over me again and instead of seeing Heather up in the sky leaningover thebar it was the back of Becky's heels I was seeing. All the fiber of my existencewanted torun, 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'slaughter and it slowly faded into the din of the bar as she left Becky standingthere with aconfused look.

“That chick is just completely strange,” Becky said to a couple of her friendsatthe bar. As she was talking she slid her right foot back and rested it with hertoespointing down to the floor against her left foot. My senses were filled. Myentire beingwas like a piece of dirt on the floor. All I could do was smell sweat, dirt andgrease, all Icould see was her toes grinding into the ground as the sole of her foot rose upand filledwhat was now my sky. By the simple movement of her foot, she unwittingly camewithininches of smashing me into the ground under the tips of her toes. My whole beingshookinternally, I was unable to move, but the pounding of heart and my utter terrorwouldhave paralyzed me anyway. My death loomed so close to me, but not as close as itwasgoing to get.

Becky slowly moved her right foot down until the ball of her foot was flat onthefloor. I found my voice. “BECKY! STOP” and I proceeded to scream. But the ballofher foot kept descending; my body was bashed as an avalanche of dirt rolled offherapproaching foot. As I continued screaming everything went black. But I wasstill alive,my eyes adjusted to the light and I could see what looked like huge pom poms. Itwaslint between her toes. I was in a cavern not formed by any geophysicalphenomenon, butformed by the space between and under Becky's toes.

These near misses continued up until last call for alcohol. By this time Iimagine Iresembled and smelled like an insignificant piece of Becky's foot dirt. But itwas last calland I only had a few minutes left and I'd be okay and returned to normal! Theterror ofalmost being stepped on hundreds of times almost didn't compare to the anxiety Ifelt atgetting these next few minutes behind me.

“Everybody it's time to start heading to the door!” Becky yelled to theremainingclientele. God I wish they would hurry up and go she thought to herself as shelit up acigarette and pulled her loafers off a shelf and dropped them to the floorstepping intothem. As she was sliding into her shoes something strange looking on the floorcaughther eye. “Yuck it's some kind of gross bug,” her voice cracking and becomingmorenasal as it always did when she became excited or agitated. She raised her footandslammed it down hard and twisted it back and forth and slowly dragged it back. Aminute bit of red could be seen, most of the creature was stuck to the bottom ofherloafer. “I got it, I smushed the nasty thing!” She said like she had justaccomplished agreat task.

My heart was in my throat and pounding as the giant washboard pattern of treaddescended toward me. I opened my mouth but had no voice. I heard her clearly,shethought I was a bug. For a moment I thought I would be spared as her footstopped andhovered over me, but she was just moving it from the arch section that was overme to theball of her foot. For a brief moment my whole world was the smell of rubber andthen itwas mud as my face was being pushed into a gap between the treads of her shoe,thattread was caked with thick greasy grime. Then I couldn't breath and I felt myfacestarting to explode and then my chest and …nothing.

“Is this heaven?” I said out-loud as I observed a bright light at the end of alongtunnel. I had heard stories of these phenomena but being mostly atheistic in mybeliefs Iwrote them off as pure superstition. I didn't seem to have a body either; I feltthe sameas when I was stuck to the floor in the bar. I could direct my vision butcouldn't moveanything else, in fact there didn't seem to be anything else to move. I nowrealized I waslying flat looking towards the light, but it wasn't even as if I was lying, itwas like I wasone-dimensional.

“No this is not heaven.” I heard a female voice say, and then she giggled. “Infact this is the hell I told you I would see you in.” The light I was staring atwas filledwith an incredibly huge eye looking down at me. “You essence is now the insoleof myshoe. Your existence will now be to live and breath my foot and you will feelthecrushing pressure and the heat and the musk, but you won't ever die, you arealreadydead.”“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 shoesI'mplanning to wear any day.”I thought about it, as long as she lives…at least it will be over eventually,maybeshe'll die young. I hoped it, hoped it with a building rage, my anger at notbeing able tomove the trapped and stuck feeling was overwhelming me, claustrophobia wasdeveloping in me.

“I've been alive for 300 years already, so don't expect that I'll die young! Infactfor thinking that you're going to be along for my 5k run tomorrow.” She laugheduncontrollably; I could only see a part of her beautiful face as she laughed.

Then her facewas gone from my view and a nylon foot started descending on me. I could hearhersaying to her self that she was going to give me a break after tonight, but nowthat Iwanted her dead, she would never show any mercy. I could hear a short laughuntil thesound was cut off as her foot slid into the shoe and engulfed me. In myone-dimensionalstate I could only watch as the space between her toes and the ball of her footdescendedon me. I could tell she was walking as I could feel pressure, and I actuallystill struggledto breathe. I tried in vain to do something, but the nylons ground into me likebeingslammed face-first into a hurricane fence. I felt myself being squished andpushed evenlower into the shoe as if that was possible. They say Hell is a place of fireand brimstone,but the heat that soon developed was indescribable. It wafted off her feet likethe hearthof a Recovery Boiler. Soon all I knew was the smell of her foot, the smell ofleather andnylon, the incredible pressure as her toes mashed and twisted me as she walked.

I had agood job and a bright future now I was reduced to this; the insole of her shoe.

All thesethoughts flew through my head as her foot contoured itself around me and Iactuallycould feel myself being bent and pushed into the shape of her foot bottom.

EpilogueHeather kept her promise to wear me in every pair of shoes she owned. When Iwas transmuted to a different pair I would feel springy and okay. But that wouldchangeas she trod on me and the heat and sweat permeated into everything that was nowme.

Weeks would pass where she would not even acknowledge my existence; I was justhershoe insole. Then at times she would taunt me, have long talks with me aboutBecky andall the things I could have had. When she got drunk she would tell me to getout, get outif you can, my big old foots coming in, this is your last chance to run. Thenshe wouldlaugh 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 losingmyhumanity, I feel like I actually belong here, my thoughts are broken. Even whenshe'snot wearing me I have trouble not thinking of anything except her feet. I'malmoststarting to worship them as they grind me and twist me in the heat, the humidodor ofthem. But no I must stop those thoughts maybe there's hope of…I'm her insolethat's allI am.