Wedding Finger Crush

Not too long ago I found myself at a relative’s wedding. As usual, I was bored to tears. I was just hanging out when I spied this really fantastic looking woman. She was mid to late 20’es, around 5’8″ and of a slender, athletic build. She had long sandy blond hair that was a mid-back length. This girl was quite attractive and one of the few wearing incredibly tight designer jeans and a nice form-fitting white top. When I saw her I was at the reception and many people were there in all levels of dress from street clothes to tuxedos. This particular girl was mesmerizing. She was wearing a pair of tan spike heel boots and watching those heels punishing the lawn was a sight to behold! I was sort of following her around with my eyes pretty much glued to her feet. I watched as her heels sank effortlessly into the lawn, then I marveled at the clicking sound they produced as she walked across the front porch and its wooden floor. Her heels left tiny dents in the floor with every step. I watched as she stood by the door, twisting and turning and rocking on her heels while digging a nice little pair of deep dents into the wood floor. I was really getting turned on by this. I had to have her step on my fingers, or at least my toes. Continue reading “Wedding Finger Crush”

Really Crushed Fingers

I have always been into finger crushing and trampling. I recently happened to be at a women’s store and notice how crowded the isles were with items to sell. I noticed that the dresses and pants hung all the way to the floor and that there were many extension cords running all over the floor. I watch and notice that the women walked on and stood on the cords and no one even looked down at what they were standing on. I thought to myself that this was the perfect situation for me. I, of course, thought about being caught and had read about dropping your wallet or keys on the ground so I decided to try this. Continue reading “Really Crushed Fingers”

Fingers Crushed at the Aquarium

I’d been to an aquarium lecture. We’d been sitting on the floor, in a dimly lit, carpeted room. After the lecture, a tall blonde in flat-heeled leather sandals I’d been eying, made my day.

She was maybe 5’10, tan, and a little extra padding, but very attractive. As the lecture began, I made sure I found a seat on the floor near her. During the lecture, her kid gave her a couple of pencils he must’ve gotten at the gift shop. She placed them on the floor between us. Continue reading “Fingers Crushed at the Aquarium”

A Rave in Montreal

Hi, all you feet lovers. I’ve been reading stories on this site for a while but never wrote anything. I finally decided to write something, so tell me if you guys like it. It’s a true story.

Last weekend I went up to Montreal from Ottawa with some friends of mine. We went to a rave party that was being held in a large park. There were around 7,000 people there, so I knew that there would be at least 3,000 women. I’ve had a foot fetish since the day I was born, so I knew with at least 3,000 women there I would enjoy myself. Continue reading “A Rave in Montreal”

Trample Rep

Danny always looked forward to the visit of this particular sales rep. His shyness and her confidence had meant that most businesses had gone her way, which meant more visits. He was attracted by her dominating appearance, but mostly by her feet. Danny had a hard job keeping his eyes off them.

He had always liked feet since he was young. He used to religiously watch dancers and circus performers on the tv. He was especially turned on when the women stood on the men’s shoulders and backs. In one high wire act, a man lay on the wire and a female performer walked onto his chest and pose there, he almost creamed himself there and then. He loved it but he couldn’t understand why and so withdrew into a world where he felt so alone. Continue reading “Trample Rep”

Border’s book store

My local Borders bookstore closed in 2011. I used to go there every week. Sometimes I’d get a book, sometimes I’d get my finger crushed unknowingly by a beautiful girl. There were a lot more near-misses than actual finger crushes, but I still managed to get my finger stepped on about 200 different times. Some crushes were better than others, but I thought I’d share some of my favourite experiences. Continue reading “Border’s book store”

Conned to trample

When I was 15 I had a great plan to get my trample fantasy by taller girls come true. I’ll skip the details for now. In short, I convinced this tall blonde (in the choir group) to trample me. My playing card was that when I get old (like over 18) I would be taller and would never realize this fantasy as other girls would be not so tall. I was 5″2 back then. I explained that when she would start trampling me I would beg her to stop, but she should ignore me. Anyway, she agreed upon one condition. That was that we use a safeword to stop whenever I can’t handle it.

My plan was really cunning. Let me explain (you’ll love this). She said: “Choose a safeword.” (She was not so smart, so…) I said: “No, you choose a safeword and don’t tell me. Write it on a paper and put it on the chair, and I’ll look at it.” This is the cunning bit. She wrote a safeword (which I do not know till this day) on the paper and put it on the chair and stood back. I went over to the chair and picked up the paper so that my hand hid whatever she wrote. I pretended to read the safeword but didn’t. I said: “Okay.” She was ready. Continue reading “Conned to trample”

Deadly heels at the old stadium

Finally the day Jim had been waiting for. Jim was a bright young boy of 16 every day after school he would go work a the old stadium selling tickets or just helping out. Today was the day of the concert he had been selling tickets for the past two weeks.

Every time a pretty girl would come for tickets he would mark down on a piece a paper who she was and where she would be sitting. Jim loved his job because every time the town had an event he could go below all the people in the stands and when he saw the seats he had marked out as that of a pretty girl he could easily slide his hand up and get her to step on his finger without any fear of getting caught as the girls laughed and stomped on him without ever giving any thought to what they are crushing under their thin spiky heel.

Today was going to be even better, the concert was sold out so they brought in spare seats. They made a small mound of dirt to raise the last row of seats so the people could see without any problems. They had a small piece of wood over a slightly raised mound of dirk as the floor in front of the seats they had put up for the concert. Continue reading “Deadly heels at the old stadium”

A Brother’s Servitude

Chapter 1

“Bye now, dear!” Claudia said to her daughter, weeping. Samantha gave her a big hug, tears streaming down her cheeks. Claudia looked down at her daughter one last time, and unable to bear the sight of her sad face, left without saying another word. Samantha’s dad, however, wasn’t quite as emotional as his wife: “Now Samantha, you KNOW that mommy and I love you very very .much.” Samantha stopped crying and nodded silently. He smiled and lifted her chin. “Come on, sweetie! Can’t you give daddy a little smile?” Samantha looked at him and managed a small, feeble smile. “Don’t worry, honey… I and mommy will be back soon. We just need some time alone. The week will go by like that!”

With that, he snapped his fingers. As sad as she felt, Samantha couldn’t suppress a giggle. “I love you, daddy.” Her dad gave her a hug and said: “Now you be a good girl, okay? You can invite some friends to sleep over you want, but be nice. Nana’s phone number is posted on the fridge, and I want you to listen to your brother, okay? He’s older, so he’s in charge.”

With that, her dad gave her a big kiss on the cheek and started out the door. Before closing it, he turned to his daughter and said half-jokingly, “I don’t want to hear any horror stories from Tommy, okay? BE NICE.” Continue reading “A Brother’s Servitude”

A Lesson For Peter

It was September 1996. 24-year old Kayla Murray was just getting off work at the local shopping mall. It was about 10:30 at night as she approached her shiny red convertible in the parking lot. Kayla was a rather wealthy female, living in a large house in Los Angeles, California.

Kayla was a gorgeous girl of Japanese origin, with a perfect American dialect. She was 5’8, thin, and had a lovely face with a great complexion, complemented by her long, jet black hair. Kayla was always a good dresser. Tonight she wore a blue blouse with a black miniskirt, stockings, and leather flat-soled ankle boots.

Kayla arrived home 10 minutes later to find that a light in the second floor of her house was on. Something was seriously wrong. Kayla exited the car and rushed through the front door of the house. She checked the rooms on the first floor but found nothing unusual. Continue reading “A Lesson For Peter”