written by Unknown author
original source of the story was Unknown source
Miami Beach can be pretty uninhibited at times.
When I was 11 years old I was there on vacation with my family. From our spot on the beach I happened to glance over at some kids about ten yards from us. This section wasn’t too crowded so I could hear their conversations quite easily. Two girls in bikinis, about fourteen or fifteen, were burying a boy around my age in the sand.
From the talk, I soon gathered that the boy was the brother of the slender redhead. The other girl was a very petite brunette with hair down to her waist. They were burying the boy with moist sand, taking time out occasionally to fill a bucket with water from the surf and pour it over him. Then they were trying to sculpt a sand “coffin” around him.
The sister kept commenting on how this wet sand idea of hers would make her brother a prisoner and how helpless he would be when they finished. She kept talking “down” to him in such a way that I can now realize she was showing off to her brunette friend. Revealing the power she had over her brother.
The brunette giggled constantly and obediently packed the sand however the redhead instructed. I remember clearly that the brother, completely entombed by sand, merely looked up at them with a wide, silly grin, his head resting on a coconut they had placed under him for a pillow.
Then the brunette said something like, “The sand isn’t packing hard enough!”
“Press harder,” the redhead told her.
“I’m trying” the brunette replied in a frustrated tone.
After about a minute of silence, the sister said “I’ve got an idea.”
And with a whole beach of witnesses, the redhead put her bare foot right on her brother’s stomach, smiled down on him and slowly lifted her other foot until she was standing on him with all of her weight. The boy groaned the entire time, pausing occasionally to giggle-laugh. It was that mirthful sound punctuating every groan that told me he was in a lot more pleasure than pain.
“This should pack the sand much better,” said his sister. Then she began to walk slowly up to his chest. The brunette giggled in perfect time to the boy’s groans. She leaned back and started to slap the sand on the boy’s legs, slap it with her feet. I got a great view of the brunette’s soles, grimy with sand with very high arches. Her toes wiggled playfully like little batons conducting the orchestral groaning. I could tell she was getting into the guy’s torture, but was still holding back.
Meanwhile, when the sister reached her brother’s chest, she reached out with her last step and pinched his nose between her big and index toes. I looked around the beach and was astounded that nobody else seemed to be paying any attention to them! I guess it’s true that nobody notices kids at play. And what play!
The redhead stepped off her brother and asked him how that felt. All he could do was giggle in answer.
“It didn’t hurt?” she said.
Another giggle was his response as he looked up at her with a grin.
“Well, then, let me try a bit harder.” And she stepped up on his chest and began walking slowly back toward his stomach.
Both girls took obvious delight in the boy’s helpless groans. To my own enjoyment and surprise, the redhead didn’t stop at her brother’s stomach this time. She paused there for two nice long groans, then stepped on a spot somewhere in the immediate vicinity of his groin.
His groaning immediately stopped. I looked at the kid’s face and recognized ecstasy for the first time.
If the redhead wasn’t standing directly on her brother’s groin then, she surely hit home with her next step. She brought her other foot up slowly and placed about a half inch further than her first step. She balanced herself there for a while, feet side-by-side with toes wriggling cruelly over her very silent brother. And then walked in place on his groin with moderately hard steps.
By the time she stepped off, the brunette had stopped giggling, too.
“See?” said the redhead. “That packs the sand really well.”
The brunette stood up and walked over the boy’s legs a couple times.
“Ooh, yeah,” she said. “This is much better.”
“I’ll go get more water. You pack him some more.”
Red walked over her brother’s stomach like it was nothing and proceeded down to the water’s edge.
The brunette got a strange look in her eyes when the other girl left. She went up and straddled the boy’s face with her feet, staring down and smiling at him. He started to giggle first, then she copied. After a couple seconds of giggling, she reached down and removed his coconut pillow. His head plopped flat on the sand.
“I think I should bury your face, too.”
Then she lifted one of her perfect, delicate feet and put it right on his face. She made a couple tests, looking for balance, and planted both feet squarely on his head. She kept her balance for only a second or so, then fell to the sand beside him, laughing. He laughed, too.
The sister came back then, and poured some of the sea water over her brother’s face while the girls continued to laugh.
Then his sister began to walk again. Stomach to chest. Chest to groin. And then legs to groin to chest to face and quick-hop off. “Now I’ve walked all over you!” she said with a haughty tone.
“Let me try” said the brunette enthusiastically.
She stepped up on the boy’s legs, and slowly stepped up to about his calves, then more slowly up to his groin with both feet. The redhead walked beside her, steadying her by holding her hand. They didn’t stop laughing once, nor did the kid stop groaning with pleasure.
The brunette continued to step up to his chest, planting the second foot parallel to the first. She seemed to be enjoying her position, towering over the boy and looking straight down at his face. Then, with help from the redhead, she stepped with both feet on the kid’s head again. This time she stayed there for maybe 30 seconds, laughing the whole time.
When she stepped off the boy pleaded “no more!” As young teenagers, the pair were almost full-grown women at over 100 lbs (45 kg) each. So the trampling discomfort for the little brother was finally adding up.
The brunette relented, apparently satisfied. She then slipped back into her Dr. Scholls sandals, her work now done. The sandals were made from one piece of solid hardwood with a 1 inch thick (2.5 cm) sole and a 2 inch (5 cm) wedge heel. They were held on by a wide leather strap at the toes. The sandals were a very popular style for women at the beach.
But while the friend gave the boy a pass, sisters often have little mercy.
“Too much for you?” she smiled down at him.
“Yes.” He almost hissed it. His eyes were closed at this point.
“Awww.” She then reached out for a steadying hand from the brunette, who looked a little startled, but complied with an evil smile. “Okay,” said Red. “Just one more time.”
She stepped up on his face, balancing almost instantly, and walked in place for a few seconds with her bare feet.
After that she jumped onto his chest and continued to walk backward, stomping her feet down hard with every step while also grinning and pulling her friend along behind her.
The brunette followed, laughing, still wearing her sandals. She first stepped right on his face without any hesitation. Even given her petite frame, with those rigid wooden soles and her entire body weight, the crush on his head must have been tremendous. Then the sister walked backwards with fierce barefoot stomps — stomach / groin / legs — and the brunette stepping into every one of her deep footprints.
To add insult to injury, when the brunette got to his crotch she paused for a second to aim her cruel little hard sandal. She then hopped with one foot to purposefully land with all her weight right on that spot. She even bounced a couple of times on one foot to really pack the sand down. What a pounding his manhood must have taken. No mercy!
After the pair had trampled the entire length of the boy’s body, they laughed and gave each other a big victory hug. Then the brunette kicked off her sandals and the two ran toward the water, completely leaving the young man to fend for himself. He was pretty worn out at that point but nevertheless he had a blissful look on his face.
After a while, the parents came along and shouted at the kid to get out of the sand because it was time to go. I couldn’t believe they didn’t see the dozens of footprints all over him!
With a little struggling, the kid finally managed to get up and walked toward the water to clean up.
But he was still grinning.