written by Tramplefan
original source of the story was Unknown source
I have been blessed in my life when it comes to getting trampled. At age twenty-nine, I have now had relationships with three different women who loved to trample me. Those three relationships lasted seven years collectively. I have also had miscellaneous trample experiences in between those relationships as well, some better some worse. I will share some different stories with you over time, also some “tips” on how to get trampled. For now, I guess I will start off with one of my most memorable experiences.
About two years ago I met the girl of my dreams. We have been split apart for nine months now, but hardly a minute goes by that I don’t think about her. Yes, she gave me the harshest tramplings I have ever received (by far), but outside the bedroom, she was the sweetest woman I have ever shared my time with. It is amazing that you could find a woman so beautiful, so sweet, and so vicious all in one package. Her name for the story sake will be “Michelle” (obviously not her real name). I met her while out of town at a business conference. She is 5’7”, 130 lbs., long blond hair, blue eyes, hefty “C” in the bra size, with a fantastic body and the face of an angel. She spent four days a week lifting weights, so she had very muscular legs (which I LOVE). I went out with some business associates this particular night to a local “gentleman’s club”. It wasn’t 30 seconds after getting seated that our eyes met, and then she came straight towards me to start a conversation. She plops down on my lap and excitedly says, “What’s your name?” Now I am not a bad looking guy, but I was shocked myself that this girl took so much interest in me. Let me tell you, this club was full of girls who have done penthouse, playboy, you name it. After having an on and off three-hour conversation together, we exchange numbers and I left the club with my business partners. I thought this would be the end, but it was just beginning.
After returning home Michelle and I had a few phone conversations together. I invited her to my town for a long weekend vacation. We hit it off just as well as we did in the club. We were instantly like best friends and could talk very openly. She also seemed very open-minded sexually, so here I go! She didn’t have any experience with trample fetishes before but seemed very interested. We discussed it in some detail, but then I let it drop. A couple weekends later she flew back to my town again for a long weekend. One night in the bedroom the topic came up again, so I asked her if she would like to try it. She said yes, so I laid on the floor between my bed and the wall. She proceeded to walk on me with her six-inch heels, over my chest and stomach, also took time to rub her feet on my face. Since it had been about two years since I had a good trampling, I wasn’t as pain tolerant as I have been at other periods in my life. I had to request her to stop several times. She did every time I asked, but she really seemed to not want to stop when I asked her to. After she was done she asked if it was too harsh, too heavy, etc. I told her it was great, but that I wasn’t used to the pain since it had been so long since I was trampled. To make her feel more comfortable I told her my real fantasy, you know that fantasy that you wish would come true, but if it ever did, you would be sorry you wished for it. I told her the thought of a woman trampling me, for her pleasure, without regard for the pain that she is inflicting, would be the ultimate fantasy for me. Harsh trampling, with and without shoes, throat standing, head standing, feet smelling, etc. I had no idea that this was going to lead where it did, my wish coming true.
The third long weekend we spent together, she came prepared to make my fantasy reality, without me knowing. After Michelle flew in, we went to Los Angeles for the weekend. I bought tickets for us to go see a musical. I had seen it a couple of times, but it was her first time. I dressed in a suit, she wore a very sexy black body clinging outfit that made my eyes pop out of my head. It was a two-piece suit, and it had a lot of sheer parts to it, so you could see a lot of her body. The skirt was very short, and all I could see was legs! She was also wearing black sheer nylons and black dress pumps. She looked so beautiful, but she was also dressing to kill (I still didn’t know at this point).
When we returned to our hotel room, she asked if I would like to be trampled, so of course, I said yes. She took a pair of stockings out of her travel bag, and tied up my wrists and legs, leaving me face-up on the floor with only my pants on. With that done she took on a different attitude that I started to see the first time she trampled me. She was showing obvious signs of excitement about trampling me hard. First, she got on me with her dress pumps. The heels were not small tips, maybe an inch thick, but she made them hurt as bad as she could. She started walking up and down my chest, putting all her weight on her heels all while looking down on me and smiling. While I was grunting in pain she didn’t say much, but she was making comments that the thought of having me suffer under her heels was such a feeling of control and power and that she was trampling me for her pleasure tonight. She moved slowly and took her time making sure to cover my whole chest and stomach. She also spent time grinding her heels on my nipples. The whole time you could see that she had a smirk on her face and that she was trying to put as much weight on her heels as she could. This went on for about ten minutes. I was already worn out from the beating I took and was practically in tears. She was trying so hard to make me suffer, and it was working, even with her big tipped heels. When she got off of me, I thought she was through beating me up, but once again it was just the beginning.
She sat down on the bed next to where I was lying and said now she was going to give me a little break from the heels, but she was going to degrade me with her feet. With that, she took off her black leather pumps and began to smother my face with her feet. She had now been wearing those leather pumps and nylons for over six hours, and the smell was intoxicating. As she kept rubbing her feet in my face, I just laid there helplessly enjoying the odor. It almost seemed worth it to suffer that trampling to smell her perfect size eight feet. To make sure I didn’t enjoy it too much she would also use one foot at times to step on my throat hard enough that I would just start choking, then she would let up slightly on the pressure. Here I was pinned to the floor beneath the perfect feet of a woman more beautiful than I have ever dated in my life, smelling her moist foot covering my nose, talk about a dream come true! I was in heaven. It couldn’t have been any better than this, but it could get worse. After about another ten minutes of forced foot smelling, she said she was really going to make my fantasy come true.
She stood up and went to her travel bag again, and pulled out a pair of six-inch stiletto heels. Trust me, I was already well beat up at this point, and was just recovering from my first trampling. She sat down on the bed again and put her feet on me while she put on her sandals and strapped them on. This alone was causing me extreme uncomfort, because she was leaning over with all her weight while fixing the straps. After securing her shoes, she kicked me over on my back first. She was marching up and down on my back, grinding her heels the whole way. Every step she took I could feel her heel ripping and sliding on my back towards my side, leaving gouges in my skin.
I was in tears asking her to stop, but she kept reminding me that this was my fantasy come true and that she wasn’t going to stop so that I should shut up. She continued the punishment by standing on the same spot, not moving, but rocking back and forth on her heels, then putting all her weight on one heel while grinding the other back and forth nonstop on the same spot. I tried to rock to my side to make her lose her balance and get off, but every time I did it would result in her heel sliding all the way across my back before she got off, but then she would just hop back on again. After learning my lesson I just laid still while she continued to torture my back. She started making some kind of pattern with her heel marks on my back, to which she told me she was carving her name on my back so that I would know I was her property. I don’t know how long this went on; all I could do was try to deal with the pain.
When she was done with my back, she turned me over and stood on my chest. She walked around a little bit on my chest and stomach, then walked up to the top of my chest, and gave me a memory I will never forget. After torturing me nonstop for quite some time, she stood with her heels on my chest, rocked all her weight back on her heels, then bent over to look closer at me writhing in pain. She very gingerly leaned forward as far as she could without losing her balance, brushed her long blond hair out of her face, and looked me straight in the eyes with a big smile. She did this for about fifteen seconds, then she stepped off my beaten body. Never have I taken such a harsh beating from a woman before, and it was only her second time trampling me. I just laid lifeless on the floor trying to recover from the pain. As she sat down on the bed she put her feet on my stomach again and told me it wasn’t quite over yet. She proceeded to un-strap her six-inch sandals and take them off.
Once she did she stood on my beaten body once again, placing one foot across my chest, and the other across my face and nose. With that, she told me to pull down my pants and masturbate. It was a bittersweet ending for sure. Once again I got to smell her perfect foot, but her other foot was on my chest crushing the life out of me still. I jerked off as fast as I could and had one of the most intense orgasms ever thinking about what happened to me. It was a brutal experience I will always remember.
Unfortunately, these are only memories now, as I mentioned we did break up. No good reason really, “just one of those things”. The sad part is I would have married her, even if she had no interest in trampling me. Should she find this story, know that I still love and miss you.