Press Her! (End)

Leaping forward again, Texas caught Georgia off balance with a flurry of blows, forcing the mare back. She grit her teeth as she blocked blow after blow, but with Texas’s small and spry figure, the huge horse couldn’t get a single hit in before she was **** to block another of Texas’s punches. To make matters worse for her, she was **** to retreat back onto the main section of the roof behind the chimney, meaning that the billowing smoke was once again in her eyes as she tried to swat Texas’s attacks away. However, with her eyes watering, her vision impaired and the weasel never faltering, more and more of Texas’s hits snuck past her guard; first a jab to her stomach, then a kick to the knee, then another hit to the face.

The mare groaned as she stumbled back, aching and coughing, and not weathering the blows well. Texas, however, was still fit as a fiddle, bouncing on the balls of her feet and lunging forwards again to attack. Georgia, barely managing to block anything this time, fell to one knee, gasping.

“Give it up, Georgia.” Texas said, narrowing her eyes. “You’ve lost.” She spat. The huge mare, heavily for breath, looked up… then smiled.

“Sorry Tex… But I see something you don’t.” She chuckles “Look behind you.”

“Ha! Yeah, like I’m really gonna fall for tha-”

The weasel’s eyes widened as Georgia suddenly threw herself flat against the train’s roof. Texas spun around, just in time to see the low train tunnel rushing towards them.

And not in time to do anything about it.

WHACK!!

The speed of the train meant that Texas smashed into the brick with bone-crunching ****, flattening out instantly like a bug against a windshield and being embedded almost a full inch into the brickwork. On the train, Georgia looked up from her prone position and grinned, seeing no trace of the weasel.

“Don’t worry Tex! We’ll be back for you soon enough!” She shouted, her mocking laughter carrying off into the distance. Splattered across the stone, Texas gave a weak whimper, then peeled off and slowly fluttered down to the tracks, leaving a perfect, sheriff-shaped indentation in the bricks.

A full day later, Texas finally heard the sounds of horses approaching. For an entire 24 hours, Texas had been at the mercy of the railroad, and apparently it had none. No less than half a dozen trains had steamrolled over the sheriff, their immeasurable tonnage squashing her again and again to the railroad until she now resembled a fine, greasy paste, her hat lying in the dust nearby.

And things would only get worse, as the unseen rider dismounted, and Texas heard heavy boots approaching. As the figure came into view, the obliterated weasel could only give a weak whimper. She had hoped that it was her deputy come to rescue her, and in a way… it was. However, in another, more accurate way, it was Georgia.

“Woof! You’re looking a little run-down there, Tex!” The mare laughed, poking the almost liquidized weasel’s body with her foot and smearing it across the iron tracks. “But god if it ain’t satisfying seein’ you like this. A pathetic stain beneath my boot? It’s what I’ve always known you were.” She growls, her eyes lighting up with devious delight. “But don’t worry, Tex! I’m here to offer you a trip back to town!” The mare said with a grin, then slowly slipped off her boot.

Instantly Texas felt sick as the putrid smell of ancient cheese and acrid sweat wafted out of the boot and over the desert, even making Georgia’s horse whinny with discomfort and back away. Georgia herself didn’t seem to mind however, or maybe the thought of humiliating Texas overrode her disgust.

“Your chariot awaits, Sheriff!”

Laughing at her demolished rival, Georgia grabbed a handful of the Texas goop and peeled it up with a sickening, slow, sucking sound, the entire weasel coming up off the tracks like gum. With the weasel putty in hand, Georgia just smirked down at her for a good few seconds, relishing this moment and committing it to memory, then dumped the weasel paste into her boot. Texas would have screamed if she could, but instead all that she could do was splatter pathetically across the boot’s moist, filthy insole, **** to smell, breathe and taste the putrid concoction that festered at the bottom of her ex-deputy’s boot. And as the light was suddenly blotted out by Georgia’s sweaty foot, wrapped in a once-white, now grey sock, the weasel would have begged and pleaded if she had been able. Instead, Georgia pulled her boot back on fully, and felt the sheriff squish around her toes.

The mare shivered with delight and bit her bottom lip at the sensation, both the pleasurable feeling of the weasel beneath her foot and the joyous emotion from defeating her most hated rival overcoming her. But slowly the mare lowered her foot back down until it pressed against the sand, then ground it down hard as if she was putting out a cigarette. A slow grin spread across her face as she realised that she could hear the muffled whimpers of the old sheriff, and the loud squishes of her new insole. Georgia sighed happily and looked back to her horse.

“Y’know… It’s such a lovely day, I think I’ll just walk the way back to town.” She practically purred. Lifting her boot, Georgia felt the weasel paste pull away from her sole slightly, only to press back into it again as she stepped down, marking the first step of her long journey.

“After all, it’s only ten miles.”

Setting off on her long walk, Georgia whistled to herself happily and listened to the sobs beneath her feet as Texas was mashed again and again and again into her sole, the smell only becoming worse as every passing step soaked the weasel in fresh sweat. By the time Georgia reached town, she’d probably be able to pour the sheriff out like a liquid. The girls at the bar would sure enjoy that trick… And after that? Well, who knows...

The mare would just take things one step at a time.

Bad End: A Mile In Her Shoes.