Bantoras
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Crushing to be an Idol
🕑 Added 2022-02-15 00:27:41 +0000 UTC *All characters in the image are above the age of 18 and all parties involved all consent to what is happening even if it looks otherwise. “Whew… Glad that’s all taken care of.” Kanami huffed a laugh to herself, the flamboyant idol carefully dabbing and dragging her embroidered bran handkerchief across her bead covered face. She loved her job, all of it. From the adoring fans and their cries of love and appreciation, to just how good it felt to get up on stage and sing her heart out, it truly was perfect. But even as a super idol, she was still human, and her cheeks were pinked with much more than the sensations of admiration that had come her way, as exhaustion washed over her well built, slender, but equally bubbly and partially chubby form. Finally managing to steady her breath, and get her face to a dryer state, Kanami pulled out her cell. For once, a frown finally showed its way onto her face. Not a single text from either Rise, or the mutual group of gal pals they shared. Closing her phone, she let out a sigh. Kanami had really hoped that, despite the fact that Rise wasn’t set to perform that night, she would come and give the Kitchen’s performance. Letting her gaze rise from the green room itself, to the ceiling, Kanami let her feet fall back, her fluffy hair giving a soft rustle as it plumed around her neck. For a moment, Kanami’s body stiffened as she slowly shot up, eyeing around the room. Nothing, not a single soul, fan or stage crew or otherwise. Another sigh was given to the false alarm, as Kanami brought her body back up. “I’m way too pooped… I need to get home haha.” She forced a laugh, but even now the exhaustion was encroaching on her at a rapid pace. The stretch she brought her body into was a pleasing sense of shooting sensations through her body, as she slowly stood up, and made her way to the enclosed changing room. But it wasn’t a false alarm, the smug smile creeping onto the watching, waiting predator’s mouth from the cracked open dresser was one all too real. Little did Kanami know, but in a way, the group of friends she had hoped would show up actually had. “Bye anyone who is still here.” Kanami childishly called out, keeping the cutesy facade of her idol persona alive one last time, before she let all the stress, anxiety, and weariness of the real world come over to her vastly different self. When she was Kanami: Japan famous idol, she was decked out in what most high school girls wished their restaurant uniforms looked like. With cute done up hair, a bright visor, and a candy colored, polka dotted outfit that really showed off her womanly curves. Kanami now was a striking, surprising contrast to how she had just been moments earlier. Her hair was now a darker, much more loose brown, her sparkling eyes were hidden behind heavy framed glasses that would have made even the most shortsighted of otaku blush, and her outfit would put a hikikimori’s lazy wardrobe to shame. To anyone hearing Kanami walking down the hall, even before they saw her, they would never have assumed that she was their beloved idol. But, there it was again, the feeling that someone, or less likely, something, was watching her. “Ugh… Oh crap! I forgot my bag…” Kanami jumped, the often klutzy girl proving that it wasn’t just her stage presence that had the ditzy act. Letting both her shoulders and head fall, she turned herself and made her way back down the hall to the green room, a title that would soon be far from accurate with how much red was soon going to taint it. “Ah, there you are!” Kanami smiled, seeing the dark black arm bag resting on the blue and green folding chair. It took less than ten steps for Kanami to freeze, the sound of the door behind her clapping shut, and clicking locked. “Well, well, well… You know, I thought maybe you would have done what that little bit of jailbait slut did and try to use your cutesy looks to keep the attention on you, but I guess you’re just THAT full of yourself you don’t even try huh?” The voice was cold, bitter, but somewhat dominant… And Kanami had no idea who it belonged to, or what any of the womanly voice meant. “U-Uh h-hello there? I’m sorry, but the show has been over for quite a while, and this room is o-off limits to anyone not with the production, so if you could leave for a moment, I would be happy to-” Kanami began, only for a loud, harsh snap to fill her ears, a blinding white filling her shocked eyes, and the intruder’s harsh laugh to sound a million times louder than it ever should have. “You really think you can tell me what to do just because you’re some slutty idol? God, you little bitches are ALL the same. You think just because you sink some shitty songs, that every boy just loooves you huh?” Kanami’s head was still spinning, the head throbbing strobe of red tinted cloud that covered her vision ever so slowly starting to clear. But that voice, it was filled with… Hatred, a hatred that Kanami thought never to be real. It was full of venom, and spite, and… Even a bit of pleasure? All the poor, flood bound idol could think of, was just how piercing the volume was. “I-I think you’re m-mistaken, t-this is just a reserved… room… for…” Kanami stopped, her words slowing, turning to a croak, as finally, her vision cleared… And she was able to see just what had happened while she was temporarily blinded. “Shocked? Surprised? Completely amazed? Well, you should be you stupid insect, your so called ‘powers’ you always pride yourself with on stage? Ain’t got shit on me!” Kanami had to stare up, from the Mary Jane clasped feet, to the bare legs, up past the girl’s uniformed upper half, right up to her snarling, sinisterly grinning face. “W-Who are you?!” Kanami called out, not that it would do her any good in the slightest, as even if the sadistic second year even did care what the shrill scream from the toy sized idol cried. “You asking me ‘who I am’, or ‘why I’m doing this’, well it ain’t going to do you any good. Look you little bit of pop-idol shit, I’m doing this because I am so very tired of little brats like you thinking that you’re worth guy’s attention, okay?“ Kanami couldn’t even understand. Sure, she had a lot of male fans, but there were equal, if not more female fans that attended the conference, and the last thing like an idol herself could have was a boyfriend of all things. “Honestly, it’s a shame it wasn’t your whole stupid group’s performance tonight, as I’m feeling kinda hungry… But I think taking out my undeserved frustration from such a fact on you will tide me over till I can grab a bite to eat. Besides, your bitchy besties are probably way too fattening for me to enjoy.” There was a terrifying implication with literally every word that wasn’t a straight up threat, and Kanami could simply stand there, shaking. “Although, since I guess I’m basically a god to you, I can grace your miserable ass with my name. It’s Ai, not that you really deserve to know. I’m only telling you it so it’s the only name in your mind when I kill you. Not your friend’s names, not your family’s, MINE.” Ai laughed, putting her hand to her chest, as she stood up straight again, her creamy, smooth hand clasping on her side. “Now, since I know you idols like to think you’re in good shape, we’re gonna play a little game. If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I’ll just snuff you out like the skank you are right now.” Ai shrugged, a bored, uncaring face that looked right at home on her face radiating utter indifference, as she tapped her foot. “W-What’s the game?” Kanami gulped, tears starting to swell in her as, as Ai’s face grew a giddy grin of gaudy glee. Carefully lifting up her slender left leg, Ai hooked her finger into the back of her sock, slipping it down, before connecting her index into the heel of the shoe as well. With a careful and swift pull, she peeled both from her feet, and carelessly threw them over her shoulder with casual ease. Lucky for Kanami, at least, in terms of the situation, she was unable to see the faint, red smears that tainted the bottom of the fancy shoe. “See my lovely foot right here? I’m going to be kind, and simply walk. If you can make it to your bag over there, without me crushing you, I’ll grow you back to size.” Ai shrugged once more, as if her conditions were the most simple, and understandable thing one could hear. “But naturally, if my foot gets to you first? I’m going to kill you. I’m going to make it so that ugly, make-up-caked face is caked all over the floor, which honestly? Would probably be an improvement for how fuckin’ nasty you look you stupid whore.” Ai smiled, her eyes going wide with bloodlust, before she cleared her throat and calmed down. “Better get running bug, the game has already begun.” Tapping her foot only once, Kanami’s survival instincts took over, and without a single word, she began to run as quickly as she could, just like the tears down her red, puffy face were doing themselves. Despite her brain doing its very best to feed her with lies and thoughts of her survival, the second Kanami felt the cool touch of Ai’s foot’s shadow cast over her, she knew it was over. She had barely made it more than two feet by the time Ai had ‘caught’ up, and the game was already over. Kanami could only let out part of a shrill scream, as the burning, moist, but also annoyingly soft sensation of Ai’s feet slamming down onto Kanami’s back was felt. Kanami’s nose was the first victim, her face smashing into the hardwood floor of the green room with a literally painful clack. The soft, cutely shaped cartilage shattered the moment it impacted, blood spraying both down and up her face, as the weak bone shattered. But Kanami didn’t even get time to focus on that suffering solely, as her glasses shot up into the flesh right above, nearly cutting into her reddened, bloodshot, and tear-pouring eyes. Every passing millisecond brought an agony worse than the last, and Kanami wasn’t even able to scream to relieve herself from any of the utterly horrific pressure being casted into her pathetically sized form. The more pressure Ai applied, the more of Kanami’s cute body broke. The crunching of her teeth being bent and shot from her gums was quickly joined by her neck threateningly twisting to the point of no return, the clacking and cracking of her ribs like that of a piano of sheer pain. Each spittle, blood laced cough that managed to wheeze itself from Kanami’s gore filled lungs was a painfully ironic blessing she didn’t want anymore. Sure, she wished to live longer, but not like this… Kanami could feel the muscles in her legs and arms scream and strain, as they bent on their own, the wet sensation of ligaments tearing and flooding the now more than bruising limbs shot vast dark purples and reds across her body. Then, Ai let out a pleased moan-like sigh, as she raised her body ever so slightly, and put all of her weight onto the girl killing foot. It happened in an instant, Kanami’s brain instantly shut off with a hellish pain that kept registering long after any doctor would label the freshly squeezed, viscera smeared ‘body’ as dead. The tiny idol’s entire form simply popped, the fleshy, fluid smeared visual barely even recognizable as something that used to be human, despite the shreds of the once casual outfit strewn about the giant brat’s massive sole. “Serves you right, everything about you was a mess, and now you’re a literal one.” Ai hissed, giving her foot a few more good grinds, before carefully peeling it up from the ground. The sensation of crushing a girl with her foot was so much more rewarding for herself than when she had done it with her shoes, but… Ai couldn’t help but feel none of the women she wanted to kill deserved such a wonderful fate such as being snuffed by her own flesh. Looking at the foot, Ai just smiled, as she carefully strolled herself to the chair, using the ball of her foot so as to not make cleaning up harder than it would need to be. Taking a seat right next to Kanami’s bags, Ai stared inside, then smiled. “Oh, this is too good.” Ai chuckled, pulled out a bit of Kanami’s idol outfit. Sure, the initial thought of selling the outfit had put a grin on Ai’s face, but that was quickly replaced with cold reasoning: there was no way in hell she would be able to sell it without getting caught. With that option out the window, she did the only thing she could do: return the outfit to its owner, as Ai pressed the once well put together costume to her sole, as she started to rub away the smeared girl’s remains, grimacing as she found herself humming the obnoxious song she had been forced to listen to while waiting for the perfect moment all night.
