Tiny Frogs.pdf

Sister Sophia was known throughout the monastery for her devotion and dedication to her faith. But little did anyone know that beneath her habit and wimple lay a dark secret - a fetish for crushing tiny creatures beneath her feet.

It began innocently enough. One day while out for a walk in the monastery gardens, Sophia absentmindedly stepped on a tiny green frog hiding amongst the grass. The satisfying crunch beneath her sole sent a forbidden thrill up her leg. She quickly hid her face, ashamed, but also strangely excited.

As the days went by, Sophia found herself intentionally seeking out the little amphibians, "accidentally" stepping on them as she went about her duties. The poor frogs never stood a chance against the heavy habit shoes and Sophia's 4-inch stilettos. With each crunch, Sophia felt a dark pleasure building inside her.

But it wasn't enough. Sophia needed more. She began sneaking into the monastery pond at night, high heels squishing through the muddy banks as she stalked her prey. Tiny frogs leaped in terror as she crushed them one by one, their little eyes bulging in their final moments. The sticky, green goo between her toes was the ultimate turn-on.

Sophia knew it was wrong, but she couldn't stop. The crushing pleasure consumed every waking thought. Pretty soon she was leaving a trail of squashed frogs in her wake wherever she went.

Then one fateful night, Sister Sophia encountered her match. A wrinkled old toad, bigger and uglier than any frog she'd seen. It sat defiantly in her path, eyeing her with a knowing glint, as if it could sense the darkness in her soul.

Sophia smirked, slowly raising her high-heeled foot. This would be her finest conquest. But as she bore down, the toad let out a deep bellowing croak and expelled a massive gust of disgusting green spittle directly into Sophia's face!

Shrieking, Sophia stumbled back, blinded and gagging. The toad made good its escape. Enraged, Sophia chased after it, heels splashing through puddles and muck. But in her blind frenzy, she could not see the rickety bridge spanning the stream ahead.

With a sickening snap, Sophia tumbled through the rotten planks and plunged into the icy water below. As she thrashed to the surface, something latched onto her ankle with vice-like grip. The toad! Cackling maniacally, it began to drag Sophia down into the depths.

What happened to Sister Sophia that night, none can say. The monastery scoured the countryside, but she was never found. Some say she still wanders the bottoms of the pond to this day, the toad king perpetually attached to her ankle, exacting its revenge for her cruel ways.

And the frogs - well, they never forgot how Sophia had terrorized them. They whisper to each other in the pond, recounting the story of the wicked nun who got her just desserts at the hands (or feet) of an angry amphibian. The moral of course, is that it's dangerous to mess with Mother Nature.