Bewusteloos (Dutch for ‘unconscious’) 8 min read

For most of my life I fantasized about women standing/walking or sitting on me but I never heard the term “trample fetish” until a chance encounter I had with a co-worker. This was in the 1980’s before the internet existed. So I had no idea if anyone else in the world had these same strange thoughts as I did.

I worked with a young woman Lieke (pronounced LEE-ka) at a large multinational finance company in New York City. Since she and I were both single, we occasionally went out after work for drinks. Sometimes we attended events together on the weekends. Not a sexual relationship but just some companionship which we both enjoyed. We were friends without benefits.

One weekend, I asked Lieke to an NFL game, which she turned down as she had an existing engagement – a party she had to attend. I was always somewhat suspicions that she had some sort of a secret second life. She joked occasionally that I did not really know her.

Lieke was a tall woman at 6′ and 155 lbs (1.83m, 70 kg).  Super long legs.  She had white blonde hair that went down her back and ice blue eyes. Cheekbones for days. She was, by any objective standard, very attractive. Whenever we went out, guys heads always turned as she walked by. Lieke was Dutch and said that lots of girls in the Netherlands looked just like her – tall with a solid build. She didn’t think she was anything special.

One weekend we went out to dinner and then to the Blue Note in Greenwich Village to hear a three piece jazz band. She had on 4″ (10 cm) black heels for the night so she towered over me. Lieke seemed to have an endless supply of great high heeled shoes and boots. We were paid well but I wondered how she could put together a shoe closet that would make even a wealthy fashionista jealous.

Anyway we drank a whole lot that night and ended up closing the place down. I knew she was getting pretty drunk since her sentences started mixing both Dutch and English words while she talked with me. She laughed and called it Dutlish.

After the bar we took a cab back to her place. It was maybe 3:00 AM by now. Both of us were pretty wasted and just stumbled into her apartment. She poured us some wine and returned to the living room where she set the glasses carefully on the table. Then Lieke pulled me off the couch to the floor and straddled me just like it happens in porn movies. As drunk as I was, I thought maybe this was a prelude to sex (which I was definitely interested in). I mean, in basic man logic, Lieke was my friend but she was also hot !

First Lieke was just sitting on me with her long legs bent behind her. She shook her long hair in my face, while laughing but otherwise not saying anything. Her face was very close to mine at this point.

Lieke then sat up and dropped down on my stomach. I lost my breath for a moment as I was caught off guard. She bounced and giggled as I laid there getting crushed under her rather large bottom. She swung one of her insanely long legs around and stuck her bare foot with red toe nails right in my face. Lieke bragged that she always got pedicures since it was a job requirement for her, which kind of confused me. The company we worked for required business attire at the office but I didn’t think that extended to stuff like manicures. But in my drunken state I just let it slide. She then brought her other leg around so that my stomach bore absolutely all of her body weight. I found that Lieke got heavy real quickly.

Still laughing, she got off of me and told me not to move and she would be right back. I drank my wine and thought to myself, this is a dream. She returned in just a black lace bra and panties. She looked amazing! Legs that went on forever. Her body was flawless. Like Michelangelo’s David but with boobs and no junk. Lieke pointed over by wall where she wanted me to lay. “What are you going to do?” I asked.

She push me down and said, “this” as she braced herself against the wall and stepped up on me with her size 10 (42 EU) left foot on my stomach and the right one on my chest to balance. She was not fat at all, just a big and solid woman. She had “the genetics to be in the Olympics” kind of size.

Rocking, bouncing and walking in place, she laughed with each grunt and breath I had. “This is what I do in my other life” she said. “I walk all over little men and crush them under my giant feet. You’d be surprised how many guys are into this.”

With my guard down after so many drinks, I confessed “I’m one of those guys.”

Lieke stopped for a second and looked down at me with great surprise. She said “ja ?” And I nodded my head slowly.

Then a broad smile appeared on her face. “I always had my suspicions about you. Checking me out all the time. Commenting on my shoes.” I had mentioned her wearing heels a few times thinking I could disguise my interest in normal banter about tall women. But Lieke (like almost every other woman) was far more emotionally aware than I was and apparently saw right through my flimsy excuses.

Now a totally different demeanor came over Lieke. I mean I didn’t really recognize her at that moment. Even though I knew her from countless days at work, the girl right in front of me was a total stranger. Her face had a completely focused and concentrated look that I had never seen before.

Lieke said “you have the trample fetish”, finally giving a name to the urges I experienced my entire life. She continued “this is what we call de vertrap” – some Dutch word which I didn’t understand. “It means ‘the trampling’. And you’re about to experience it, like my clients.” And I was thinking “clients ???”

Lieke then started walking over me barefoot, just straight over my body like I didn’t even exist. She marched back and forth with those giant feet just pounding me into the floor. Lieke didn’t hesitate to walk over every part of my body – my head, my face, my groin, my stomach (which almost knocked the wind out of me every time). She treated me like an inanimate object she was forced to walk over. And I was getting completely crushed under her massive weight.

It wasn’t like she was stomping on me or anything. She didn’t have to. The blows from her heavy body and giant feet were pulverizing me. Back and forth she marched, without a care in the world that she was trampling on a human being.

While I had some ideas of what it would be like to get stepped on by a woman, none of that compared to what was I was experiencing right now. I was being totally dominated and crushed by her walking all over me.

After maybe 20 laps (by which time all of my internal organs had probably liquified) Lieke stopped and put her now warm foot right down on my face and rested for a bit. All the trampling had winded her ! I was just glad that I wasn’t being squashed by her for even a few seconds.

Lieke said “You’re lucky I don’t feel like putting my naaldhakken, my high heels back on. But my feet are sore from wearing them all night.” And I contemplated this whole experience if she had been wearing her stilettos. I would have a hundred holes poked in me by now. At that moment I was so thankful for her sore feet.

“Some of my regular clients at the dungeon like me wearing heels when I trample them. That’s why I have so many pair that I wear to work. Most of them are bought by the people who pay me to step on them.” So now her designer shoe collection made sense. And she did have a secret life – as a dominatrix ! No doubt she was in high demand due to her great size and incredible good looks.

But all my pondering on the subject came to a quick end when Lieke decided to extend my education on the art of domination. “Now you will experience bewusteloos. This is what Americans call “trampling and crushing you until you blackout”.

She stomped her huge foot down and completely engulf my face. Lieke seemed to be pushing down with all of her considerable strength. In my drunken state and exhausted after being trampled for so long, I was no match for her and I didn’t even resist. After just a few moments I began to see stars and get light headed.

When I came to, it was almost morning and she was passed out on the couch. I was sore all over my body like I had been in a muay thai match and lost badly. I learned a valuable lesson that night – don’t get trampled when you are drunk.

A few weeks after that fateful night Lieke transferred back to our European division to advance her career. She got married and had a couple of kids. We still saw each other at occasional national sales meeting or European trade show. She always greeted me warmly and asked me with a sly grin if I want to try out some of the expensive stiletto heels she was invariably wearing !