Shye White - Giantess's Day - Part 3 (Trampling)

Shye White - Giantess's Day - Part 3 (Trampling)

The next challenge for my tiny slave was to survive after I trampled on him. The task was complicated by the fact that he was in my red lipstick-stained saliva. From my height, he looked like a regular wet spot, haha. But small creatures are resilient, like insects, so I held back nothing!

I watched as he attempted to crawl out from underneath me, his tiny body struggling against the weight of my heels. He made pathetic noises, like he was pleading with me to stop. But my heart was cold, and I couldn't help but laugh at his helplessness.

Slowly, I leaned down and pressed one foot against his back, feeling the soft flesh of his body give way under my stiletto heel. His movements stilled, and I knew that he could no longer move without my permission. A sense of power coursed through me as I realized the control I had over such a tiny creature.

I glanced down at him, admiring the way my long legs dwarfed his tiny frame. His eyes were filled with fear and desperation, but I couldn't help but feel a twinge of arousal at the sight.

"You're doing great," I told him, my voice soft and mocking. "You really are a good little slave."

A wicked grin spread across my face as an idea came to me. I reached down and scooped him up in my hand, taking care not to crush him. He struggled feebly, but it was no use against my strong grip.

"See, it's not so bad being under my feet, right?" I asked, chuckling.

I lifted him higher, so that his small body was level with my mouth. "How about a little spit play, hm?" I asked, my tongue flicking out to wet my lips.

Before he could respond, I opened my mouth wide and let my warm, saliva-filled tongue slide across his tiny body. I could feel him tremble under my assault, and it sent a shiver of pleasure through me.

"Mmm, you taste so good," I purred, licking him again and again. "Just like the floor beneath my feet."

His pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as I continued to torment him, taking twisted pleasure in his helplessness. Eventually, I grew bored of the game and set him down on the floor, watching as he struggled to right himself.

"Good job, little one," I said, my voice cold and mocking. "Now let's see if you can survive until our next little game."

With that, I turned and walked away, leaving him there to pick up the pieces of his shattered life. I couldn't help but feel a swell of power and satisfaction as I made my way down the hall, my towering figure dwarfing everything around me.