Politeness (MILF / F tiny vore)

Politeness
(F/F, MILF, shrinking, stepping, bra insertion, vore)
> Rachel tapped her feet impatiently as she waited in line at the coffee shop. Rachel was an older woman, yet her hair was a brilliant blonde, her face was immaculate with only the faintest hints of wrinkles creeping in, and her breasts were more than bountiful. Her formal brown blouse struggled to contain them.
> But suddenly, a pink haired, bubble gum chewing, vapid and plastic college girl, Clara, shoved her way in front of the line as she loudly jabbered on her phone.
> Rachel frowned, and thought about giving Clara her mind ... but she had better ideas.
> She waited. She got her coffee, drank it, all the while she watched her. When Clara finished and walked away, Rachel followed, until she was all alone on the sidewalk.
>Rachel took out a small, crude electronic device, an invention she made at her lab. She then pointed it at the girl and in a flash of pink light, shrunk her down to just one inch tall.
> Clara turned around and screamed as she looked up at the mountain, and the tower of person before her, while Rachel just smirked.
> "You really should be politer, especially to those older than you..."
> Picking her up as gently as she could, which felt like a crushing vice to Clara, Rachel sat down on a bench, took off her heel and stocking, before dropping Rachel inside. She then put her stocking and shoe back on, and started the long walk home, feeling the tiny little bundle squirm beneath her foot.
> Clara cried, screaming and begging as she stewed in the crushing quagmire of Rachel's foot. The foot pressed down on her back, hard, forcing her face into the sweat soaked stocking fabric. She coughed and spluttered but it did nothing to get rid of the foul flavour.
> Every step felt like an earthquake to her as Rachel's heels clacked across the concrete, a jarring jolt that shook her very skull.
> Eventually, Rachel reached her large mansion of a home and stepped inside. She smiled as she felt the warm air and sound of her family wash over her. It felt good to be home, to a place she knew she was loved.
> Clara merely screamed louder as Rachel grinded her foot against the floor.
> Sitting down in the antechamber’s bench, Rachel took off her shoes and stocking, and peeled out the tiny, crying bundle of meat.
> “My my … not fighting so much now, are you?”
> Clara weakly nodded. “I … I’m so sorry … like … totally … I’m so sorry … miss … I’m totally sorry…”
> “Hmmm, you don’t sound very sorry. So, I think I need to teach you a bit more…” With that, Rachel pulled open her blouse and the bra beneath and lowered Clara inside.
> “No no no no no no!” she blubbered, before with a *SNAP* of the bra string, she was sealed inside, her face mashed against Rachel’s nipple.
> Seeing the faintest outline of the little bitchy girl, Rachel murmured in approval, got up, and started cooking dinner. Before long she was sweating over a steaming pot, hurrying around and clanging various pots and pans as she cooked spaghetti for her family.
> It was simply horrific for Clara. She could do nothing but pathetically mewl as she was drenched in steam, sweat, and disorientated as Rachel dashed around the kitchen.
> Rachel’s sweet, innocent hum reverberated her entire body, making her grit her teeth and just beg for it to stop.
> Before long, Rachel was sitting at the table, eating dinner in front of her family. Conversation and laughter wafted over the dining table. Clara tried to scream but only Rachel could hear her. She smirked in devious joy.
> Before long, the dinner was eaten and the dishes were cleaned. Rachel retired to the living room, drinking a glass of red wine in front of the fireplace.
> The doors locked, Rachel stripped off, throwing her constricting blouse, skirt and bra on the floor. Leaving Clara suspended between her fingers in front of all of her naked body. Even then, she was still beautiful, with barely a wrinkle, freckle or mole across her form. Slight pudge hung to her curves and hips.
> “My my … I really need to watch what I eat…” she seductively moaned. “But I don’t think you’ll add too much to my figure. You’re just a snack after all…”
> Clara didn’t react. She hung limp, her body battered, bruised, broken and defeated.
> She definitely reacted however when Rachel dropped her into her glass of wine. She screamed as she plunged into the freezing liquid. Paddling desperately, she breached the surface and looked around.
> And screamed.
> For looming in front of the glass’s lip was a giant, open mouth. The world tipped as the glass tipped towards Rachel…
> The wine rushed past Clara and dove down her mouth. Clara desperately paddled away with her fleeting strength.
> Rachel just chuckled at the sight, tipping the glass further and further, letting more of the red liquid spill inside…
> Until Clara just fell in. Screaming.
> Rachel’s mouth was rank and foul, a sopping wet and sweltering hot oppressive mire. But she barely had any time to look, as Rachel quickly gulped her down without a thought.
> Clara screamed the whole way down Rachel’s throat before being dumped into the churning, pasta filled chamber of her stomach. It was rank and oppressive, smelling of vomit and wine. Already she could feel the tingles of the acids starting to seep in…
> Putting down her cup and stifling a cute little burp, Rachel sighed. Gently rubbing her stomach, she relished in the faint butterflies in her stomach that quickly went still. Her other hand soon dipped down towards her lower lips and gently stroked them.
> It always felt good to put someone in their place.
> The End.