In a panic, you start to squirm and wriggle, doing your utmost to make your presence felt. Your tiny limbs slap against the soft, cushiony insole, trying to create the sensation of something foreign trapped in the shoe. The closer proximity to her foot increases the pungent aroma of sweat and foot odor, causing you to gag and your eyes to water. Still, you persist, struggling with all the fervor you can muster.
Suddenly, the pressure increases tenfold as she places her full weight on the foot, likely walking around to get a feel for the shoe. Each step she takes is a cataclysmic event for you, with the hot, soft flesh of her toes pressing down against your frail body, squeezing you deeper and deeper into the insole. The air grows more fetid, and your vision tunnels with every pounding footstep. The desperation is palpable, every tiny movement of your body a plea for recognition.
But her foot descends mercilessly again and again, pressing you further down. The thick mother's foot sweats profusely in her eagerness, drenching you in its briny residue. Its sour tang assaults your nostrils, and you gag at the potent mix of stale sweat and trapped foot odor.
A sharp pain tears through your left side as her toes curl and compress you against the shoe. The pain is indescribable — a searing, crushing agony that feels as if you're being slowly pulverized. In a final futile effort, you scream and shove upward, but it's all in vain. With a cruel twist of fate, her toe grinds against you, grinding your bones and turning you into a disgusting smear between her digits. There's a sickening, squelching noise as your body, now frail and broken, meshes with the moist residue under her foot.
Your vision starts to blacken, your senses dulled by the all-encompassing crush. Each breath becomes more laborious, and then impossible as the oppressive stench fills your lungs. Your last conscious thought is that you've become nothing more than an insignificant smear, an inconvenience soon to be forgotten.
When the thick mom finally does slip off the shoe, she feels a grimy residue under her toes and frowns in disgust. Using her fingers, she nonchalantly wipes away the gruesome mess, which was once you, and, with a look of distaste, smears it onto a piece of tissue paper. "Ugh, these shoes are filthy," she mutters under her breath, ignorant of the fact that she's just eradicated a human being from existence. She returns the shoe to its place and moves on, leaving your crushed remains behind as a testament to her casual, unknowing brutality.
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