Trampled almost to death at Vegas Halloween Ball Part 3 18 min read

After another half hour I was somewhat recovered but still very sore. I took a break to go to the Men’s room and look at the twelve to fifteen really wicked, deep and bloody heel marks devil-girl had left in my chest. I had thought there were only about half that many until I got a look in the mirror! Two were so deep, trickles of blood were oozing from them down my front. I couldn’t believe how much it hurt to touch them! But I wrapped myself up with some toilet paper as best I could.  I was totally pumped about the rest of the night and wanted more !

I was now more than buzzed enough to ask directly if someone would take my picture while standing on me and I wanted to go for multi-trample, which I have never experienced.

There was a group of four cute girls in matching Little Bo Peep miniskirt outfits with white thigh-high tights and dark blue stiletto pumps.  Along with them was their flock ( I guess) – one guy dressed as a sheep. So with my newfound confidence I just walked up and told them I’d like to get a picture with the four of them standing on the welcome mat. My camera wasn’t really working (missing a battery) but I handed it to the sheep guy anyway.  As to the girls, they happily obliged without a second thought.

For the ladies, stepping on me was simply an exercise in balance. Not one woman asked if it was painful or uncomfortable.   No one was concerned about their combined weight (about 500 pounds / 225 kg) crushing down on me.  The four women just stood on me for a picture like I was some kind of platform used for posing. Their entire focus was in looking good for the camera.  None of them seemed to care in the least that they were stepping on another human being with their high heeled shoes.

For those who haven’t tried it, there needs to be a big caution here. The combined weight of a group of girls on you (even if they are all very slim) is more overwhelming than you can possibly imagine!

When the first girl stood on me, she wasn’t that heavy.  But her sharp heels still felt like dull stakes stabbing through the mat. It was the second girl that changed everything! My rib cage got crushed beneath her weight and I could barely breathe. When the third girl got up onto my stomach only a moment later, I thought, “Oh god! I’m in real trouble! My ability to breathe stopped completely and I felt completely squashed into the floor.

The fourth girl stepped squarely onto my groin in her heels and it almost put me in shock! My balls were completely crushed under her spikes.  I don’t think it was malicious or anything on her part.  That was just the last available space open for her to stand on my body.  So, ho hum, stand on this guy’s nuts with your stilettos.  Just make sure you look cute for the pictures!

My mouth hung open as I stared up at this crowd of women in heels, all standing on me, ignoring me as they smiled and jostled for the camera!  The girls would bend and turn and pose like they were doing some kind of Vogue photoshoot.

An unexpected bonus was that I could now easily see up their short skirts and look at all of their knickers.  One girl had on poka dot panties!

But the thing that was killing me was the constant shifting of all those thin heels! The exquisite pain of eight different spikes constantly digging into different places on me, and my inability to control or even respond to all the new pains. Again, the girls seemed totally oblivious to what they were doing to me! Not one glanced down the whole time.  Instead they just stared at the camera and made cute poses. All the while I felt an overwhelming crush from four adult women standing on me!

Thank god the sheep guy was a total idiot because he just snapped away with a broken camera while the girls made pose after pose.  That minute or so it took to “take some pictures” seemed like an eternity while I was being constantly trampled by these lovely young women!

One girl’s spike heel was digging into my chest, just a few inches away from my face! She was huge from my point of view.  This giantess in heels was constantly shifting her weight, picking up and putting down her sharp spike, over and over again, as she leaned to one side or the other for the perfect shot.

Finally, the guy said he snapped plenty of pictures and they all of the women stepped off me with no more consideration than if they’d posed on some concrete steps.  None of them gave me a second thought or looked back at me as they walked away.

One of the guys in the crowd helped me up and handed me my camera. “Thanks,” I said. “Is it going to be in the magazine?” asked Mr. Sheep.  Unfortunately I still don’t know what he meant. “Yeah, absolutely,” I replied with a big grin.

As I recovered from the Bo Peep trampling, I wandered for a bit, watched the band and drank a beer.  After a while, as happened all night, a beautiful girl about five seven (1.70 m) came up to me wearing white high block elevator boots and a dress MADE ENTIRELY OUT OF WHITE ROPES (I think every hot woman in the free world should have one).  The dress highlighted all the sexy curves of her amazing body.  She said, “You’re a doormat?” “That’s me!” I replied. “So…if I needed to wipe my boots, I could stand on you?”

Instantly I laid at her feet. She put her boot on me, then hesitated so I reached up for her hand. She took it and stepped heavily on my stomach, then walked back and forth all over me, grinning from ear to ear. Short but sweet! Then, she said, “Thank you! You’re such a good sport!” “My pleasure,” I replied, “I’m glad I could be useful to you.  I exist to serve your boots.”  Rope dress girl gave me a bold stare for several seconds, mouth open, like she kind of got off on that comment.  But then her girlfriends pulled her away into the crowd and that was that.

After a while, as the room was thinning out, I found another smaller room, still filled with a couple hundred people, dancing to a DJ. I was walking around checking out the women, when the lights came up. The Ball was over. I should have been major depressed, but I was honestly I was kinda looking forward to it ending since I was really sore all over.

I got in line to go out through the door, and just before I passed through it, I heard a girl’s voice behind me say, “Lie down, Matt!” She had to say it again before I realized she was talking to me! Without turning, I just dropped on my stomach in the doorway to let her walk over me. But she didn’t just walk over me! She stepped on my back in her boots and started bouncing and dancing! Heaven on Earth! She danced for a good minute, before her boyfriend told her there was a line forming behind her and she walked over me and out the door.

I got up and chased after her, a tall brunette in a blue dress with sharp three inch heel (7.5 cm) black leather boots. I sat down in front of her and said, “Give me a heel mark to remember you by!” (hey, we were drunk and I was desperate!) She looked at my hand and said, “You already have one!” seeing the wicked red heel mark devil-girl had given me. “I want a much deeper one!” I said.

“You want pain? I’ll give you pain!” she exclaimed matter-of-factly, and stepped on the center of my hand with her stiletto boot heel and walked over it and down the hall, looking back and laughing at the expression on my face! I was lovin’ life!

I thought the night was over, but found out I had a ways to go! Outside, leaning against a wall and talking to a couple of guys were two of the hottest girls I’d seen all night! One had slipped off her pumps and was barefoot.  The other had on motorcycle boots and was smoking a cigarette. The guys were telling them they were from “L.A Magazine” and wanted some promotional shots of the girls in sexy poses (yeah, right).

But, I walked up and blatantly said, as if I was part of their camera crew, “Yeah, we need to do a Matt Shot!” I laid down in front of them. One girl asked, “Are you really from a magazine?” And the guy, seeing his chance, said, “Of course! That’s why we dressed our buddy here in this promotional costume! We need to do a…a…”, “Matt shot!” I finished for him. “Yeah, a matt shot!”

The two girls shrugged and the one girl put her high heeled pumps back on.  The other crushed out her cigarette with her heavy biker boot and then stepped right up on me.

“Put your foot on my face and act really cruel for the camera,” I said. (It’s amazing what you’ll say when you’re really drunk…but not half as amazing as what some girls will do).

The girl placed her biker boot (and a bunch of her weight) on my face, while she talked to the guy about the magazine. Unbeknownst to the girl, the cigarette she had just stepped on had stuck to the bottom of her boot.  So it got unceremoniously mashed into my face.  And it was still warm!  That totally turned me on!

The girl in high heel pumps stood on my lower stomach, not doing much.  The longer she was there without moving, the more it hurt.  And after several minutes of her sharp heels in the exact same spot, it became agony!

Eventually the girl in front finally remembered and said, “Oh, I forgot about you!” as she laughed and lifted her boot off of my face.  The two hot girls then stepped off of me and said goodbye to the magazine guys before they walked away.

It would be wonderful if you were able to PURCHASE very drunk girls somewhere?!

I followed the two guys to two other girls, both absolute stunners, standing around the corner of the building in the parking lot. They were very drunk also. They were both very tall and wearing spike heel sandals and vampire outfits.  Me and the guys pulled the same routine in our newly discovered synergistic relationship. It turned out both were Las Vegas showgirls who lived a pretty wild partying life and had few reservations.

This time worked even better, now that we were “rehearsed” and BOTH girls stepped on me in their spike heels for pictures! One girl kept asking, “Are you sure it doesn’t hurt? I, like, weigh 132!” “No, you’re fine.  My costume is really strong” I shouted as the girls sank their heels into the flimsy rubber welcome mat on my chest.  My lie seemed to carry the day and both girls ignored me from then on.

As before, their heels were almost torture when the girls got to talking to the guys and forgot about me.  They were stepping all over my body at random, digging those stiletto heels into me, absent-minded grinding their heels down on me painfully.  All the while talking to the magazine guys about how hot it gets in Las Vegas and other such important topics.  It was obvious both girls weren’t thinking of me at all as they stood on my body with those wicked, pencil thin heels.  I was loving it!

And, as before, the guys kept them talking for the longest time (almost twenty minutes) before they realized (or cared) they were still standing on me with their combined weight.

At one point, the taller of the two girls (but she was lean and a bit lighter than her curvier friend), Katya extended her leg with her heel landing directly on my upper sternum just below my throat — off the edge of the mat.  As she blathered on with the fake LA Magazine guys, the toe of her shoe hovered right over my face and she absent-mindedly drilled that spike directly into my flesh.  She was torturing me with that thin heel and didn’t even seem to notice or care about it at all.

The one saving grace was that I could see all the dirt and schmutz on the bottom of her shoe just an inch or two above my mouth.  With her laughing & carrying on with the guys, I knew she wasn’t paying attention at all about stabbing me with her heel.  I was so tempted to lick that filthy sole but I resisted, afraid I would get caught and it would break the moment.  Thankfully she stepped back after just a few seconds.

As the conversation wound down, her friend finally stepped off me and drifted off with the two guys, talking about getting her picture featured in the magazine. Katya watched them walk away, and finally looked down at me and said, “Awww…do I have to get off now?”

“You’re so breathtaking, you can stay there as long as you like, if I can just look at you!” I replied.

She smiled, then considered a minute. “Are you tensing your stomach up to hold me?” she asked. (She was standing squarely on my stomach). I told her the truth, that I was, but I was okay. “No,” she said, “I mean…will you relax it so I sink into you? I really want to feel you squish beneath me! I’ve always wanted to squish someone!”

Oh my god! I had to marry this girl! I relaxed my stomach completely, and, sure enough, she sunk way deep into me as the air rushed out. She got this really big smile on her face, and asked, “Can I bounce?” The guys had wandered away with her friend, and Katya and I were having our own private moment. This was gonna be it for the night and I was going to go for the gold!

“Katya, the truth is, I love this! I want you to make holes in me with your heels! This is probably never going to happen to me again, so just move the mat, and just stomp the living shit out of me!”

“For real?!” she said, smiling even more, giving me encouragement.
“Yeah, for real! And don’t only do it to my stomach! Do it – Do it — everywhere!” She looked down at me, a sly look on her face. “EVERY-where?!” she asked, her eyebrows raised. Oh my god! I thought again.
I locked eyes with her. “EVERYWHERE!”

Katya didn’t need any more encouragement. She caught the edge of the mat under her heel and just swept it aside, flopping it away, then stepped directly on my stomach with those killer heels. And Katya went to town! She started bouncing and stomping and jumping so hard, I thought the heels would make their marks in my BACK! She twisted and ground them into me and didn’t even pause when I groaned or yelped.

“Having fun?!” she asked. “’Cuz I sure am!” At first, I tried to control the pain and grunting, but it got tougher and tougher and I let out a couple of really big “Ooof”’s right in a row. Katya didn’t even slow down. So, I just let it all out, groaning and moaning and grunting and letting her know what she was doing to me. And she seemed to at least not care…maybe even like it!

She spent about three full minutes absolutely destroying the flesh on my chest and stomach! I was sure she would break a rib! Then, she moved down to my groin and just trashed it, stepping full weight all over my penis with her heels. “I’m thinking of all my ex-boyfriends!” she yelled down to me, as she, over and over, squashed my manhood with her hard sandal soles and her high heels.

I just couldn’t believe this was happening and I concentrated on enduring her brutality. At one point, I grabbed her ankle to soften her impacts, but she didn’t even slow down. She just let me hold her ankles while she stepped all over me! When I put my hand under her heel, she just stepped on it like it wasn’t there, giving me my third heel mark in my hand in one night! I was going to get Katya’s number, I was going to move to Las Vegas and I was going to settle down with her to be her personal pincushion for life…that was all there was to it!

Suddenly, her friend came running over absolutely horrified – I mean BESIDE HERSELF. “OH MY GOD!!! What are you doing to him?!! I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry! She’s really drunk!” she said to me. “Are you all right? Oh my god!!!” She grabbed Katya and yanked her off of me and Katya threw her head back and laughed as loud as she could. “I’m getting back at all my boyfriends!” she said, stumbling into her friend.

Her friend just kept saying, “Oh my god! You were killing him!” I wanted so much to get Katya’s number, but her friend led her away and into a waiting limousine, horrified at what she’d done to me. “Do you know what you did?!” she said to her incredulous.

“He wanted me to,” I heard Katya say as she was led away. “Oh, right…he wanted you to stomp him to death!” her friend replied.

“He did! I swear! He told me to make holes in him!”

“Honestly, Katya…” I heard her friend say as they got into the Limo. She gave me a last apologetic, horrified look. Katya was still laughing, swearing I told her to do it and it was fun.

One of the guys came over, took one look at me and said, “Shit dude…she really fucked you up!” I looked up, my whole body reeling in pain, and asked, “So, are you really with a magazine?”

“Are you kiddin’? We thought that up half and hour ago…but it worked great! Well…maybe not so much for you!” I smiled. He asked if I wanted a hand up. “No, I said, I’m just gonna lay here a little while.” And that’s what I did. I laid there in the almost empty back parking lot and recovered for a long while until I could slowly walk back to my car.

*****************

LESSONS LEARNED

I learned a helluva lot though. First, alcohol is king and any woman that’s had enough will overcome her natural tendencies (and I really believe this now) to enjoy trampling you and she’ll do it. The right woman will do it with complete abandon!

There are a reasonable number of women who like the power, but not causing so much pain, so telling them you don’t feel it makes a huge difference! The evening started out very slow, but when the party kicked in and the girls got drunk, it was truly awesome!

I wanted to lay outside the ladies room, but it was just far enough away from the party atmosphere, I thought I’d lose the “fun” aspect, and it would just be “creepy”. In retrospect, it probably would have been better if I had a full time girl photographer to encourage the ladies to trample me hard for a “good shot”.

Several girls stepped on me short and sweet, while their boyfriends or girlfriends took pictures. Another few wouldn’t put their weight down fully, but put their heels or boots on my groin and rested them there for a more dramatic photo.

One important thing…once the women started, if they didn’t think they were hurting you, the floodgates opened and they went to town! I couldn’t believe at the end several women actually just continued to stand on me, seeming to forget completely I was down there, while they talked to each other and the other guys about mundane topics like living in Las Vegas!

It’s surreal to have a beautiful woman standing on you with the cruelest heels digging so deep into you and not even thinking about what you might be going through, or the pain they’re giving you, when every second of every minute, it’s the only thing on your mind!  Talk about feeling ignored and abused !

Yeah, the loss of the camera was a major bummer! I entered the arena from the lobby about half way up in the stadium (the arena floor was well below) and I was trying to get the camera out of my pocket, the compartment came open and the batteries flew out.

There was a videographer who shot some video of me being sat on by the one girl and stepped on by the two cute fun girls, and maybe more. You might find a shot or two at www.halloweenball.com.

AJ