The Junebug by the Pool

By My Little Worm Cliff — Featuring: Bug Crush

Katelyn stretched her long legs across the chaise chair, closed her eyes and sighed. Nothing in the world felt quite as good as taking a day off in August and soaking up the sun by the pool.

In truth, it was a stolen day, making the pleasure all the sweeter. Her colleague, Josh, had practically wet his pants when Katelyn had laid her hand upon his shoulder last Thursday, out of earshot of their boss, and told him, in her voice sweet as honey yet hard and cruel as the blade of a knife:

“You’ll cover for me next Monday. Boss will be gone and I need a long weekend.”

When the cat’s away, the mice, they say, will play — but when one of those mice is Katelyn, the other mouse will run the maze alone.

So as Katelyn soaked up the sunshine, poor Josh was back in their little office, labouring frantically to do the work of two.

Katelyn wiggled her toes a little, then began to drift off to sleep.

A squeal and a scream shocked her awake.

Annoyed, she opened her eyes. Who the hell dared to disturb her?

A skinny man in a Speedo was standing near her, almost quivering in fear, and pointing at a fat green bug crawling along the concrete.

“It’s a huge bug!” he whimpered.

Katelyn shot him such a look of loathing that he dropped his eyes and fell silent.

“You woke me up for that? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It might bite me. Or you,” the man said.

Katelyn sat up, contemplating how easy it would be to break this creep’s neck and bury the body in the crabgrass by the fence.

“It might bite you, but it sure wouldn’t dare bite me,” she said. “How can you stand to be so pathetic?”

The man did not answer.

Katelyn slurped the last of her Coke and tossed the can over the fence.

The man gasped.

“That’s litter!” he said.

Now Katelyn was very angry.

“Okay, you sorry little sack of %$^, I’m going to do you one favor,” she said. “I’ll kill this bug before you wet yourself. Then I want you to walk out of here, go burn that disgusting Speedo — on your body or off your body, I don’t give a damn, and never, ever let me see you around here again. You are an embarrasment to humanity.”

The man nodded. Katelyn stood up. “Look at me!” she said.

Meekly, he looked up at her with watery eyes. Katelyn smiled, grimly. He was considerably shorter than her and it felt good to tower over him and give him orders.

Katelyn worked her tongue around in her mouth. Then she spat, juicily, into his face.

He stood there, with her Coke-tinged saliva dripping down his lips.

“Pathetic,” said Katelyn.

She turned from him and contemplated the huge bug — a metallic green monster with clubbed antennae. A Junebug.

She slipped on her flipflops and gave the bug a kick. It sailed into the air and buzzed angrily. The man whimpered.

Katelyn almost cursed him again — then suddenly, in one of her mercurial mood swings, she felt a sudden surge of compassion. It must be hard, to go through life being so pitiful.

She stroked his shoulder. “Poor little loser,” she said. “I won’t let that buggie bite you.”

The Junebug whizzed their direction again, like an insectoid Kamikaze pilot. Katelyn smacked it out of the air with her pretty fist, knocking it to the ground, where it lay stunned.

She stood over the bug and laid the sole of her flipflop upon it. Through the thin material of the shoe, she could feel the hard, chitinous curve of the bug. She applied a little pressure. The bug’s shell resisted — firm against the softness of her flip-flop.

Katelyn leaned harder. From the heel of her foot up her slim but powerful calves and thighs, she felt her nerves carry the sensation of her prisoner’s struggles — and she felt herself moisten at the pleasure. Almost lovingly, she caressed the doomed creature with her foot — a gesture it did not appreciate. It struggled furiously, but was helpless against her power.

“Sometimes, love hurts,” Katelyn whispered, as the measured but firm twisting of her toes began to abrade the June bug’s shell against the rough concrete. Again, a shiver of pleasure shot through her as she bore down hard and the bug resisted. Cheap rubber flip-flops — it was like trying to crack a walnut with a waffle!

Now Katelyn pressed down with all her might — with all the power of every muscle in her toes, calves, thighs and soft but toned bottom — in a silent, intense contest to crush this bug.

She was dripping now as waves of pleasure trembled through her, as her every ounce of energy focused on conquering this stubborn beetle, on crushing it simply for her own satisfaction.

Not even the toughest bug could hope to outlast a Goddess — and as Katelyn combined a savage, heel-twisting pirouette with a mighty shove of her toes, the June bug shell finally cracked beneath her.

The magnificent beetle, a living emerald, a giant among insects, was no match for a Giantess, and it died there, ground into a mess of chitin, legs and goo. Katelyn cast her eyes upon the sole witness to the murder, that pathetic little man in his pathetic little Speedo suit.

He did not stay for further orders. He ran for his life. Katelyn laughed, and settled back on her chaise to enjoy the rest of her day off.