In her clog.pdf

It was a lovely afternoon, the sun was shining brightly through the kitchen window as Mother prepared dinner. Her adorable son Timmy was busy playing on the living room carpet, blissfully unaware that in mere moments, his world was about to be thrown into chaos.

Mom's wooden clogs clopped heavily against the kitchen tile as she walked over to grab some cider from the fridge. The erotic clicking of her high heels against the hardwood was like music to her ears. Little did Timmy know, Mother had a dark secret - she fantasized about crushing things under her sexy shoes. Spiders, centipedes, even the occasional unsuspecting mouse that scurried too close. It gave her a forbidden thrill each time.

As Mother opened the fridge, she spotted the cider just inside the door. Bending over to grab it, her enormous breasts swung beneath her as she leaned down. Her short skirt rode up in the back, exposing the lacy tops of her stocking-clad thighs. Timmy, from his vantage point on the floor, couldn't believe his eyes. Her ass and pussy were right in his face!

Heart pounding, he stared transfixed at his mother's most intimate areas as she remained bent over. Timmy had never seen her this way before. A tent immediately formed in his pants. Essential reminders of his new masculinity, pubic hairs now sprouting from his crotch. He knew he shouldn't be looking but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Mom grabbed the cider and straightened up, closing the door. As she spun around, her other foot came down...right on top of her unsuspecting son! "OOF!" The air rushed out of Timmy as her 200 pounds landed on him. SKKRRRRIIIIK! After a few seconds she stepped back. CRRRK-clack, clack, clack! Timmy struggled to breathe, crushed into the carpet.

Looking down, Mother gasped as she spotted the tiny figure trapped beneath her foot. "Oh my god, Timmy! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there!" She lifted her foot up. He was absolutely miniscule, no bigger than an insect. Downsized to the size of a bug by the weight of her heeled foot.

Timmy coughed, his lungs burning. He looked up at his towering mother, who loomed over him like a goddess. Tall curvy legs, enticing cleavage, a beautiful face...and her powerful clog that nearly killed him. Part of him was terrified but another part was incredibly aroused. Seeing her like that, nearly naked, had ignited something primal in his tiny body.

"Oh Timmy, are you okay? Let Mommy help you up..." She reached down a huge hand. Timmy took it and she easily hoisted him up to eye level, cradled in her warm, soft palm. Her other hand held the cider bottle. "Here, have a little sip, that's gotta be scary getting crushed like that."

She tilted the bottle and poured a tiny stream of sweet cider into Timmy's mouth. He gulped it down greedily, the scintillating liquid soothing his bruised insides. Mother giggled. "Aww, you're so thirsty! Drink up..." She kept pouring until the bottle was nearly empty, not stopping until cider overflowed Timmy's mouth. Rivulets of it ran down his chin and back.

"There, that should help," she said sweetly once the bottle was dry. "Now, how else can Mommy help her poor little baby boy?" Her eyes gleamed mischievously, a wicked idea forming. She knew all about his little pervert fetish and now an opportunity presented itself to indulge them both. Unbeknownst to Timmy, Mother had a craving to crush as well.

Tenderly she set Timmy down on the kitchen counter. "Mommy wants to show you something. Don't look so nervous!" She winked. Timmy gulped. Mother turned and reached up into a cabinet, her round rump jutting out right at his eye level. She rummaged through the shelves, giving him an unobstructed view of her plump derriere. The lacy panties stretched over her cheeks were pulled taut.

Down they slid as she bent over, a purplish egg-shaped object dropping to the counter - it was a large beetle shell! Timmy gasped. This was no ordinary insect exoskeleton - it was one of the many unlucky creatures she had ground to a paste under her heels for kicks. The thought made his cock twitch.

Mother turned back around and plucked Timmy up again. "Looks like we have a little friend waiting to play," she grinned. She placed him on the counter next to the beetle shell. Timmy eyed it fearfully. Mother took his tiny hands and placed them on the domed surface. "Feel how hard it is! Oooh, but don't worry, Mommy squished the yucky buggy already. Now it's just a fun toy shell for us!"

Timmy swallowed hard, both relieved and disturbed at the same time. Part of him was fascinated by the beetle's fate yet also terrified he might meet a similar one. His mother seemed to know this.

"Awww, you look so cute, little guy! Mommy wouldn't ever hurt her precious baby boy..." She cooed, pinkie finger tickling Timmy's tummy. He giggled and squirmed against the hard beetle carapace, fully aware her 'precious baby boy' just watched her half-naked body up close and got an eyeful of her ass, not to mention nearly getting crushed. He knew he was in trouble.

Just then, a cry rang out from upstairs. "MOOOOM! Where's dinner? I'm STARVING!" It was Timmy's bratty older sister Veronica.

"Oh fuck, the pasta!" Mother cursed, having completely forgotten. "Coming, Ronnie!"

She scooped up Timmy and the beetle shell and shoved them in her skirt pocket. He fell in on top of the exoskeleton as the cloth closed around them. "Be a good boy for Mommy now, okay? No squirming."

Timmy squirmed anyway, claustrophobic in the dark, musty confines of Mother's pocket. The beetle shell dug into his back. He could smell the pungent aroma of her pussy mere inches away, her heavy thighs all around him. They jostled him around as she walked upstairs. With each clop of her clog, the stiff exoskeleton grated against his tiny body in a maddening rhythm.

Upstairs, the colorful kitchen rug greeted them. Ronnie was prancing impatiently. Mother busied herself at the stove, setting out plates and utensils. Timmy tried to stay still but his cock was pulsing, the dark pocket and the fight-or-flight panic of being trapped was making him incredibly aroused. His hands crept down to his crotch and he began masturbating furiously, rubbing his erection and shivering with pleasure as she continued cooking. He fingered his asshole while imagining all the lewd things he saw her do a mere hour ago.

RRRRRZZZZZZZZZZZ! A long, rumbling fart suddenly shook the room and the insides of Mother's pocket. Timmy gasped as a gaseous blast expanded the cloth around him. It grew warm and humid, the putrid stench of Ronnie's passing gas filling his nose. His sister had farted right onto the back of their mother's skirt, the pocket in which he was trapped!

Timmy gagged and sputtered as the sour gusts wafted up to him. But to his shock, his cock only pulsed harder. He couldn't believe it but he was turned on by his sister's foul flatulence! He jerked even faster, the beetle shell squeezing against his back as he fucked the empty air of the dark pocket.

Suddenly, Mother's clog twisted as she turned around. RRRRZZZZZ! Another whiff of rancid gas assaulted Timmy's nostrils. His head swam, dizzy from the fumes and his desperate horny self-stimulation. Stifling a scream of pleasure, he exploded in orgasm, cumming in the pocket of his mother's skirt.

At that moment, Mother sat down to eat across from Ronniie. She reached out a hand, forgetting all about her tiny son trapped in her pocket. Veronica grabbed her utensils, and a snail suddenly squirmed across her plate into her lap with a wet squelch. "AAAAAAAAH! MOM! GET IT OFF! EWWWW!" The slimy creature was half-eaten, having flown onto her plate when Mother opened the pasta.

In her panic, Mother reached down to brush it off of her daughter...and her clog heel came down...right on top of Timmy's spent, quivering body!

SKKKKKRRRIIIIK! Her full weight crushed down on him. Timmy screamed but his voice was drowned out by Veronica's shrieks and his mother's curses. He felt his bones snap, his organs rupture, his skull shatter as she ground him into paste. With the last of his strength, he reached up and grabbed the beetle shell, dragging it down to crush it with him. They died together, the domed carapace shattering against his spine.

In the end, Mother finally noticed the dark, pulpy smudge oozing from her pocket. Horror dawned on her face as she reached in and scooped out the remains of her son, Timmy's tiny organs squishing between her fingers. She stared at the mangled mix of insect and boy, not knowing whether to cry or climax at the perverted satisfaction it brought her.

It was an incident that would traumatize the family and shroud the house in dark secrets and taboos for years to come. But in the end, the cycle of life and death continued. The macabre mash of Timmy and beetle was buried in the backyard along with other unfortunate bugs crushed by Mother's sexy wooden clogs - the clogs that simultaneously brought them all together and tore them apart.