Nuki’s fingers pinched you with a casual indifference, rolling you over the dirty, sweaty surface of her sole as if you were nothing more than an afterthought. Your entire body shuddered with each brutal movement, a sharp, stabbing pain shooting through your limbs as she twisted and scraped you across the textured landscape of her foot. She wasn’t just removing you—she was rubbing you in, making sure every millimeter of your skin absorbed the grimy, hot stink that radiated off her like a furnace.
You gasped, fighting against the sensation of her flesh as it rolled over you like a never-ending wave of rubbery, moist terrain. Every wrinkle and crevice felt like a canyon, and each shift of her toes sent ripples of force that threatened to crush your fragile body at any moment. Her foot was massive compared to your minuscule form, the coarse skin dotted with the grit and grime of her day. The smell was overpowering, a suffocating mix of stale sweat, leather, and something almost metallic, like the scent of old pennies, that clung to the air with a vicious intensity.
Nuki’s attention flicked back to the view outside the bus window, her mind already elsewhere as she continued to play with you like a toy she’d long grown bored of. Her toes flexed rhythmically, and she absentmindedly banged your tiny form against the ball of her foot, then against the heel, as if she were tapping out an impatient rhythm to the song only she could hear. Each impact was jarring, sending shockwaves through your body and filling your ears with a dull, sickening thud that made your head swim.
You tried to scream, but every time your mouth opened, all you tasted was the salty, bitter residue of her skin. Your breath hitched, struggling to pull in even the faintest hint of air that wasn’t tainted by the rancid stench surrounding you. The heat was unbearable, a humid, sweltering prison that made your skin stick uncomfortably to her flesh. Sweat pooled around you, soaking into your clothes and seeping into every pore, making it impossible to feel anything other than the slick, slimy grip of her sole.
“Stupid bug,” Nuki muttered under her breath, not even sparing a glance as she rolled you between her toes, squeezing you in a vice-like grip that made your bones creak. “You were annoying enough when you could talk.” Her voice was a low, irritated growl, each word vibrating through the flesh that was now your entire world.
Nuki’s frustration mounted, and she suddenly twisted her foot, jamming you deeper into the arch of her sole. Her toes curled, and you found yourself shoved into a deep wrinkle—one of the many folds that lined the underside of her foot like cracks in a dried-out riverbed. This particular crevice was deep, dark, and suffocatingly tight, the walls of it squeezing in on you like a fleshy vice. You were trapped, pinned between the tough, unyielding ridges of her foot, unable to move or even turn your head.
The air in the wrinkle was thick and putrid, saturated with the stench of stale sweat and the musty tang of old skin. You couldn’t breathe; every gasp you attempted was filled with the foul, acrid scent of Nuki’s foot, and each breath only deepened your sense of claustrophobia. The tight, fleshy walls closed in on you, smothering you in their heat, their oily grime seeping into your skin and burning your lungs with every wheezing inhale. Your vision blurred as tears stung your eyes, mixing with the sweat and grime that coated you head to toe.
Nuki smirked slightly as she felt the faint, pathetic struggles beneath her foot. To her, it was nothing more than a slight tickle, barely noticeable against the constant pressure of the bus floor beneath her sandal. She pressed down harder, relishing the tiny, insignificant twitching that reminded her you were still fighting for air, for life, for any kind of mercy she wasn’t willing to grant.
“Shut up already,” she muttered, rubbing her sole against the textured bottom of her flip-flop with enough force to drive you deeper into the wrinkle. You were flattened, mashed into the crevice with such pressure that you could feel the texture of every grain of dirt and speck of dead skin clinging to you. You clawed at the unyielding walls, but your fingers only scraped against the rough surface, collecting bits of grime under your nails. The wrinkle tightened, squeezing you with each slight shift of her weight, compressing your chest to the point that it felt like your ribs would collapse.
The stench was relentless—an inescapable, choking fog that filled every breath, every thought, every beat of your heart. It was the sour tang of unwashed skin, the heavy musk of sweat that had soaked into her sole after hours of wear, and the faint, nauseating hint of rubber from the sandal she’d worn all day. It clung to your throat, making you gag, your eyes watering as the salty, fetid air burned your sinuses. You tried to cough, but even that was impossible; there was no room to do anything but suffer, crushed and suffocated under her enormous, uncaring foot.
Nuki’s impatience grew. She pressed her foot down harder, grinding you deeper into the wrinkle as if she could simply erase you by sheer force alone. Each shift sent you deeper into the fold, your body twisted painfully as her weight bore down on you. She could feel the faint resistance of your tiny form struggling, squirming helplessly beneath her, and it only served to irritate her further.
“You’re just a speck,” she whispered to herself, her voice low and filled with disdain. “Why am I even bothering?” With that, she lifted her foot slightly, just enough to reposition you directly under the ball of her foot. You had only a split second to realize what was happening before she slammed her foot down with all her weight, crushing you completely against the sandal.
The impact was immediate and overwhelming. You were flattened, every bone in your body snapping like brittle twigs under the immense, unrelenting pressure. Your screams were silent, lost in the explosive force that crushed the air from your lungs and drove every thought from your mind. Blood filled your mouth, and your vision went dark as your body was compacted into nothingness, a tiny, insignificant stain on the bottom of Nuki’s foot.
Nuki didn’t even look down as she twisted her foot one last time, ensuring there was no evidence of your existence left behind. To her, you were just another bug—a brief annoyance that she’d finally rid herself of. With a final, irritated sigh, she lifted her foot and rubbed the remains against the floor of the bus, wiping you away as though you were nothing more than dirt. Then, she returned to staring out the window, her mind already moving on to more important things as the city passed by in a blur.
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