She was silent…
Mathew lay dead still inside of her black sock as she stood like a statue. Her sweat trickled down his body, which had been abused for quite some time already. It was only the beginning though… His tiny heart beat in his chest, uncertain of where he was. He wasn't awake long before the woman who had him dropped his insignificant little body into her well-worn black sock. Her movements were ridiculously fluid though, walking with such grace that she didn't even seem to make a sound. The little one was racked with pleasure though, and managed to survive up until this point.
Then, he heard footsteps and revelrous voices….
And so did she…
A group of three well-dressed men made their way down the hallway toward her position. They were all jesting among each other, laughing and stumbling their way down the hallway. Mathew could barely make out what they were saying, but a few key words tipped him off to their origin... Russia. They were definitely speaking Russian... They were in a large government building with extremely tight security, so they felt absolutely safe there… Nothing would be able to get them through the estate's defensive grid. Armed security walked the halls, cameras were everywhere. The three basically lived here for fear of intruders. They were absolutely wrong. There were no guards that night patrolling the area, the cameras had been disabled. They were all alone. She had them all, every last crooked guard that wandered the estate… They were all safely tucked away in a small vial on her belt loop, shrunken down to the size of insects scampering on each other in the dark.
They were optional targets though. For every one of their deaths, the contract stated a bonus would be paid. Every step of her journey was flawless, and she needed a new host of subjects for her videos.
They passed her by, none checking around the corner to see the statue-still woman clad in black…
She stepped out, and that was their end…
*The Next Morning*
Helga casually made her way across the room, her footsteps silent for now. It was all in the way she walked. She sat down on a nearby chair and smiled behind her black mask, before pulling the vial of 'Targets' off of her hip. She could feel them moving around inside of the darkened chamber like worms. She crossed her legs, lifting the foot with Mathew's little body trapped within it into the air. He panted and whimpered, clinging up into her bare toes as they casually splayed and flexed... Teasing his little body, coaxing more and more pleasure out of him with each passing second.
Her finger pressed on a little button on their chamber and held it down, releasing a chemical into the air with her victims. It was a nerve gas, and a special one at that... Designed only to paralyze the body, but leave the victim alive and aware of everything that was going on. This was her preferred way of taking care of her contracts... It was what she was hired for. Gently, she bobbed her foot up and down as she emptied the entire group of naked men onto the table before her.
They were all crooked...
When a group of people needed to disappear, she was the one they contacted. She had a method that was unlike any other - No traces, nothing remained... She reached up to a small camera that was suspended over her workstation and turned it on to record her 'Catch'. Her gentle fingertips guided each of the men into a row to gaze up at the recording device high above. She let it capture them, proof that they were hers and they would no longer be an issue.
Then, she began to work.
Masterfully, she wrapped their little bodies up in a thin layer of clay. They could only watch as she worked, caking everything onto them, lifting them up and pushing the cool material into their tiny bodies... Every layer she put on when she got to their heads, she added a small 'Needle' hole to allow them to breathe, and she cut two small holes around their eyes in the clay so that they could see. They could easily be edited out in post production so that nobody would notice. That's how she started, little balls of clay. The 'Head', 'Arms', and 'Legs' of her clay targets were all additions to make them look 'Lively.'
It was her creative secret. Every time a tiny clay man died in her videos, a contract was finished. Her employers loved watching the videos of her creating each death, staging it so perfectly, and sharing it with the masses. Most of her targets were high value, highly recognizable people... She couldn't just throw them on screen and claim their deaths were the result of CGI - She had to improvise. This way, she could kill them for all the world to see, though only she and a select few would know.
The whole time she worked, her toes fiddled with her captive inside of her shoe. Mathew whimpered in pleasure, panting as the heat got to him. Each breath was filled with sweat, each beat of his little heart was filled with pleasure.
Later...
The stage was set, and the cameras were rolling! They were all posed happily... One stood directly in front of her enormous black boots, the same ones that still housed Mathew's little quivering body. He had managed to keep from dying up until this point. He was alive, because she allowed it. Gently, she lifted her foot to the clay man in front of her and nudged him to his back. The paralyzed target inside grunted as he fell, helplessly looking up to Helga as her boot came over his little body.
He tried to scream, but there was no sound... She gently set her foot onto him and began to press. His breaking bones were easily picked up by the camera as his body flattened within the clay. He survived for a few seconds of this horrendous crushing until she began to stomp. When he was nothing more than a bleeding flat pancake of clay and man, she happily showed his hidden corpse to the camera while picking at it with her fingertips. The next scene was a 'Walkover'. Two of the remaining 'Main Targets' were posed with each other. Only one saw it coming though as she casually approached. He tried his best to scream, but the toxin kept him a prisoner in his own body. He could see the eyes of the other man staring back at him as Helga's foot lifted over his clay body, and stepped down. It was such a casual pass, and the sickening sound of bones crushing and organs squelching filled the air... Against all odds, that victim was still alive though...
Not for long...
Helga returned, her heel landing directly on the first victim. A spurt of red blood erupted from the side of the clayman's chest as the target's body exploded inside. She twisted, knocking the remaining man over and pinning him down beneath her shoe. Mathew could hear it plain as day. He only had a small layer of tread between him and the dying target below. Bones crunched as her toes gripped Mat's body and pressed - though Mat was left unharmed. Eventually, the same burst came from the clay victim... A crimson splotch, the color would be 'Changed' for the final production as well so that it didn't look so realistic. Slightly brighter, slightly... Less incriminating.
All of them died that day. All of their deaths on camera. When she was done picking the clay from her shoes, sore and tired from her abduction mission, she sat down and unzipped them. Her toes flexed as she felt the little man inside of her sock sticking to the skin beneath her great toe. She could feel him quivering, and Mat could finally see her skin again. Light flooded in through the worn thin layers of her sock. It wasn't worn through yet, just getting there.
She enjoyed his presence, but all things would have to come to an end. This death wasn't a contract - He was just someone she found, a willing sacrifice. Mathew moaned as her toes flexed again, eventually dislodging him from his safe spot. She felt the little man slide down to the ball of her foot, then to her arch.
A place he wouldn't survive...
Casually, She stood up. His body began to compress against her skin as she felt a little puff of air slide from his mouth. She forced the air from his lungs to empty as she stood on him... A few little pops, a few joints forced out of socket. Mathew felt the flesh bear down on his little body as she began to walk, but that wasn't where he would die. As she took her first step, he slid down beneath the ball of her foot toward her pinky. The sock's fabric was thin here as well, though not nearly as much as the space near her toes. In the next step, he felt his body collapse.
Helga smiled behind her black mask again as he squished against her skin. She felt his bones break, his abdomen burst, and his head smash down against her skin. All in a single, careful, step... It sent a chill up her spine - A non-contract this time, a willing little victim. Instead of taking her socks off after he was turned to paste, she wore them...
By the time she was done with him, he had been reduced to a smear of grease on her sock's sole.