written by Unknown author
original source of the story was Unknown source
This happened to me back in the late 80’s / early 90’s. A time when big hair and stiletto heels ruled the day.
It was well into a typical Saturday night on the London scene. I was out clubbing with some of my friends but was taking a bit of a break as all the rest of them were on the dance floor or chatting someone up. I went over to the side and sat on a step near a seating area close to where some young women were sitting & put my hand behind me to lean on. My back was to the girls and I was just sipping my drink and watching the dancers and everybody enjoying the night. Good times.
After a few minutes I realized I could hear portions what the women seated behind me were saying. The music was pulsing but I was close enough to understand some of their conversations. It was the typical gaggle of young girls which the club scene revolved around. But it was deep into the night and I had a buzz on so I didn’t really care that much.
After a few minutes, however, my mind jumped to attention when one of the female voices said “step on his hand”. The girls got 100% of my focus from that point on !
I now listened as intently as I could over the music to the women without turning around. I knew if I moved or looked at them it would spoil the situation. So I pretended to be completely unaware. I could make out maybe 4 or 5 different female voices and they were daring each other to step on my fingers. Not like they were dommes or anything. Just regular girls doing something wild and crazy while amped up on alcohol (and who knows what else).
“Wouldn’t it be funny if Heather stepped on him?!” I heard. I guess the girls were encouraging one woman in particular to break the ice. And sure enough a few moments later I felt a pressure on my fingers which was released almost immediately. Lots of giggling and laughing then commenced. So Heather had taken the dare.
Then there was some undecipherable words behind me and not too long after I felt another pressure on my fingers. This time it was replicated two other times, as if the woman was stepping forward onto my hand and then stepping back again & again. Nothing painful in the least, just some pressure. And then some mild cheers as the trampler returned to the table.
It took all the discipline I had not to spin around and look at my tormentors. But since I didn’t react at all I think it encouraged the girls to keep trying. Maybe I was like a challenge to them – who could get his attention ? In any case they kept on coming.
I next heard the word “boots” along with the name “Rachel” and some other unintelligible talk. But I gathered the women were taking turns with some flimsy excuse for the game. I guess if you’re drunk enough, it doesn’t take much. So I imagine the conversation went something like “Rachel, you’ve got boots on. Why don’t you try?”.
All I know is the next girl stepped on my fingers and just stood there. I could feel the sole of her shoe was ribbed and the pressure was in a triangular shape. So she was probably wearing a pointy toe boot. But Rachel stood there on my hand for maybe a minute, obviously upping the ante from the first two girls. My fingers were getting crushed down with a moderate amount of weight but nothing uncomfortable. And then she pushed off hard and left.
This went on for maybe 10 minutes with a constant stream of hand trampling. I played my part and would move my hand around a bit, take a drink now and then to show I wasn’t some robot. And the girls seemed to be enjoying themselves with their little experiment. At least they kept coming back and stepping or standing on my hand.
As time went on the girls started to get more aggressive. One girl mildly stomped on my fingers several times to the beat of the music, earning her some whoops and cheers from the table. Another completely ground down on my hand, twisting with all of her weight. That was actually a bit painful. But still I didn’t react so the girls became more emboldened.
After a short pause I heard one girl say kind of loud “I don’t want to hurt him”. But another voice said “he’s so drunk he’ll never notice”. So I waited with some anticipation what was going to happen next. And sure enough I felt something like a screwdriver being shoved down on my hand. The girl had stepped on me with her high heel. It took all I had not to react this time since it hurt a fair bit.
I took a big swig of alcohol to calm my nerves (and move my hand a bit to make sure it was OK). But, glutton for punishment like I was, I just had to put it back on the floor for the girls to abuse a little bit more.
I then heard the name “Rachel” again so her friends were calling boot girl out for another round. I was excited but also a bit scared at what to expect. I waited for the longest time and nothing happened. So I just had to take a quick look to figure out what was going on.
As I turned my head there was a white leather miniskirt right in my face. It was hanging on the slim hips of this gorgeous young girl who was standing there looking back at her table. All the women at the table were shouting “do it!” I quickly looked back so as not to be discovered.
A moment later it felt like an ice pick had been shoved into my hand. This time I couldn’t fake it and glanced down to see beautiful Rachel standing right on my hand with her spike boot heel. She had on a sexy pair of black leather knee high boots with the thinnest heels you could imagine. And all her body weight now crushing down on my poor hand.
She immediately said “oh sorry, I think I stepped on your hand” and stepped off like it had been a total accident. But as I was turned around I could see the whole table of women laughing.
I said “that’s OK” and started rubbing my hand. A deep red gouge had already formed there and I prayed that nothing had been broken. I could see a square mark on my skin from the other girl’s high heel as well (but not nearly as bad).
With the game now over (and the night late) I guess the girls decided it was time to leave. The 4 other women got up from the table and sashayed past me toward the exit. At that point I got to see them clearly. The girls were all young, thin & hot, wearing super revealing outfits and high heels. Two had on court shoes, 1 had on strappy stiletto sandals & 2 were wearing knee high boots – one white pair & Rachel’s black pair. Rachel’s heels were the thinnest of them all, by far. Just straight metal spikes.
As the women went by they said things like “Oh, poor baby” and “I hope your hand isn’t too sore!” One particularly cheeky girl said “I stomped on you” as she walked by, grinning, while looking right at my face. Rachel mouthed “sorry” as she passed. She seemed genuinely remorseful. But I was secretly thrilled I had been used by the girls for their amusement. Nevertheless I played it off as nothing so I wouldn’t be seen as a weirdo.