Damien fought to keep his eyes open as he sat at his desk on another dreary Monday morning. It was the same monotonous routine: waking up before sunrise, battling through traffic, and enduring nine long hours of tedious work. He longed for something, anything, to break the cycle of dullness, but his days remained unchanged.
As he stared blankly at the dull Excel sheet in front of him, a wave of nausea hit him, and the room began to whirl around him. Panic set in as he tried to stand, only to collapse to his knees, his heart racing. His body started to shrink, his limbs twisting into unnatural shapes as his fingers vanished. Two more arms sprouted from his sides, and his hind legs grew stronger and more defined.
Before he could process anything, Damien felt bodies pressed against him—several, in fact. He was no longer in his office but in a dark, unfamiliar place. As the sensation of being surrounded by others grew, he realized with a jolt that not only were the people around him naked, but so was he. He tried to call out, desperate to understand where he was, only to discover that he couldn’t speak. Confusion surged through him, quickly followed by anxiety. Suddenly, a sharp chirp echoed, then another. As panic set in, Damien instinctively rubbed two of his legs together without thinking, and to his shock, a similar chirp escaped from him.
Desperately trying to come up with a plan, he found himself with few options. He was crammed into the space, bodies pressed so tightly together that there was no room to move. It felt like a nightmare, yet everything was disturbingly real. He attempted to push his way through, to shove the others aside, but he lacked the strength. They were all wedged together, leaving him with nothing to do but endure the overwhelming claustrophobia. All he could hope for was that something would change—that a door would open, releasing them from this suffocating confinement. It was the only hope he had left.
Little did Damien know that he was trapped in an ordinary plastic tupperware container, sealed in with dozens of other tiny people. Their container was stacked on top of another and beneath yet another, with countless similar containers, each holding tiny humans only about an inch tall. They were imprisoned like bugs, because that’s all humans were now - tiny insignificant pests. Most insects wouldn’t bother keeping one around, let alone entire containers full. Unless, of course, they had an erotic reason to do so.
With the roles of insects and humans reversed, the insect world had retained many of humanity's lustful desires, including a taste for pornography. Unfortunately for the shrunken humans, the crush fetish still persisted, and now they were the ones being crushed alive, their deaths recorded and streamed online to thousands of insects who found sexual pleasure in watching a helpless human be crushed by a, usually female, insect.
Time dragged on, with Damien gradually losing his grip on reality as the incessant chirping surrounded him. Suddenly, a tremor shook everything around him. Confused and bewildered, he tried to make sense of what was happening as the chirping grew louder. He even found himself unconsciously joining in.
After several seconds of the terrifying tremors, the world around him tilted, and he was plunged into a free fall along with everyone else. Light finally pierced through, but he was falling too quickly to discern his surroundings. He hit the ground with a hard thud on a concrete surface. Although the impact should have caused serious injury, he felt no pain and found himself able to move his limbs with ease. As he examined his new form, a wave of grotesque disgust washed over him. He realized, to his horror, that not only he but everyone else around him had six arms, with their hind legs more pronounced than before. They were all hunched over, staring at each other in confusion, just as he was.
The sky above stretched endlessly, with bright lights flickering in the distance. Unsure of his surroundings, he couldn’t ignore the concrete ground beneath him, where streaks of red stood out starkly. As he glanced around, he noticed pools of this strange red fluid, deepening his confusion.
Suddenly, a colossal object slammed down in front of him. The massive black shape loomed over him, and as his eyes traced the plastic base upward to a wall of leather that curved into the shape of a foot, he realized it was an enormous boot. He looked further up, past the towering legs clad in blue jeans and a black shirt, expecting to see the face of a giant. But to his horror, he saw instead a terrifying creature with yellow skin and large, black, compound eyes staring down at him. Two long antennae jutted out from its head. He struggled to comprehend that this was a giant moth, refusing to believe that a moth could be so enormous—or that he could be so small.
Erratic movements caught his attention, pulling his gaze back to the ground. He watched in horror as the massive boot twisted back and forth. Though he prayed there were survivors, deep down he knew it was unlikely. Each twist only increased the chances of anyone beneath being crushed out of existence. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the rising panic among those around him. Some attempted to flee, using their hind legs to leap away.
The boot lifted off the ground, and Damien’s eyes followed it skyward, but he wished he hadn’t looked. The sole of the boot revealed disfigured bodies, some reduced to red paste, others still somewhat intact but horribly mangled, their limbs twitching in grotesque final motions. The sight made Damien want to vomit, but before he could react, the boot slammed down again, obliterating another person who had tried to escape. Others followed suit, attempting to flee, but they were picked off one by one as the monstrous moth methodically stomped them out.
Damien had limited options. If he tried to escape, he’d likely meet the same fate as those before him, crushed in their desperate attempts. Yet staying put meant certain death. He couldn’t fathom why this monstrous moth was on a killing spree, but there was no time for questions.
Damien gazed up at the moth, desperate to find a way to communicate, to beg for his life. But he remained voiceless. He watched helplessly as the insect continued its ruthless killing spree, seemingly indifferent to the lives it was taking. Eventually, the moth's monstrous black eyes met his, locking onto his gaze. For a brief moment, as the insect hesitated, Damien felt a glimmer of hope—perhaps it understood him, or maybe it had finally stopped killing. But that hope was shattered when the moth lifted its foot. Damien could only watch in horror as the blood-smeared sole descended toward him. He prayed for mercy, but the boot crashed down, crushing him into a mushy red paste, just like all the others. His final moments were captured on video, destined to be uploaded to various porn sites where insects would derive pleasure from watching the female moth crush him and the other humans. Yet, his death was merely one in an endless stream of crush fetish content.