written by Unknown author
original source of the story was Submitted by a visitor
I haven’t been trampled for some time now so I decided to break down and see a domme. This was the first time I had ever been to a professional so it was a big change for me. Previously I had been walked on by whoever I was dating at the time (with mixed results). But not seeing anyone for a while left my trample needs unfulfilled. So through a friend of a friend of a friend I contacted a mistress and discussed my interests. She seemed cool with the whole idea and agreed to meet with me.
When I first saw her I was surprised by a couple of things. One was her beauty. Given that dommes were willing to do kinky stuff, I had the impression that they would not necessarily be so good-looking. But I was definitely wrong in this case. She was gorgeous. The other thing that amazed me was her slight build and rockin’ bod. She was really slim but with curves in all the right places! Again I thought women who dished out corporal punishment for a living would be more on the beefy side. But this one was a size zero bombshell. I guess it wasn’t her build but her high energy level (like a coiled spring!) that made her so effective at her job.
I had asked for specific footwear (knee-high boots) and my domme was happy to comply. When she walked into the room her stiletto heels both excited and frightened me at the same time. She was relaxed right from the start (not surprising since that’s her job). But I was really nervous and quiet, not saying much. To break the awkward silence she said “do you like my boots” while twisting her ankle in the most coquettish manner right in front of my face. I was so overwhelmed that I kind of looked away. So she says in a cute, pouty voice “you’re not even looking at my boots!” and starts to display them in an even more distracting fashion. I managed to croak out “they’re very nice” or some other such eloquent praise. And basically just sat there like a bump on a log.
My mistress just wanted to get going with her job – she was completely ready to start trampling me without any further ado. So she told me to lay down near an area where she could hold on to something for balance. As a vision of loveliness and wearing such dangerous-looking boots, I couldn’t have asked for a better situation. How did I manage to get this lucky? So I laid down on my stomach at her feet. She immediately moved toward me, her first step landing within an inch of my face. Though it happened in an instant, her footstep seemed to linger for much, much longer – almost as if she were moving in slow motion. I was overwhelmed by the smell of leather from her boots. It was completely intoxicating.
The mistress stepped up onto my back and started walking all over me with her full body weight. She didn’t hold anything back. And I was right to be fearful of those thin heels because with each step they were just biting through my flimsy t-shirt. But it was wonderful to be with her because there was absolutely no hesitation of any kind. My mistress was trampling me just as if she were walking down the street. Very casual for her and deliciously painful for me. That was such a contrast with my many girlfriends who I normally had to BEG to step on me. And if they complied (which often they did not) it would usually be tentative and only last a few minutes.
Here I was the one in control. I had the undivided attention of my domme for the entire 60-minute session. And she would do whatever I asked her to do. “Will you step on my face?” – sure! “Can you change into your black boots?” – no problem. “How about those high-heeled pumps now?” – a cheerful “OK”. Whatever I said this mistress was more than happy to cooperate. Make no mistake, though, a thorough trampling I did receive. I’ll say without a doubt it was the best trampling session I’ve ever had in my life.
But there were definitely some surprises during the session. I remember asking her to twist her foot on my hand. I meant for her to crush my fingers like she was putting out a cigarette. However, I guess she misunderstood and placed her thin heel on my fingers and started grinding down with a lot of weight. And she would have continued for a while if I hadn’t quickly asked her to stop. I was amazed how she didn’t seem to think anything of it. Simple physics would suggest it’s got to be very painful. And, not surprisingly, it was pretty brutal for me. But once she realized what I meant, she started twisting both toes full weight, just crushing my fingers beneath her boots. I was in heaven.
Contrary to my preconceived notions of how a mistress would act, mine did not yell at me but was actually quite pleasant. She was really working me over with her heels, that was clear. But as she was doing that the mistress was also chatting with me and would joke around. The session couldn’t have been more fun.
For instance, late in the hour, I said “pretend I’m someone you really dislike”. So she starts jumping up and down on my back with her high-heeled pumps, getting a lot of air with each leap! I kept saying “ow!” really loudly and finally asked her to stop after about the 10th time. I forgot she’s a professional domme who will beat guys with whips and such. Her tolerance for causing others discomfort is much higher than mine is for receiving it. Then I said “pretend I’m someone you dislike just a little bit”. And she gave me a big laugh.
When I told her I worked in the financial world (wealth management – financial advisor) she started stomping her heels on my belly saying “You’re the one responsible for my mutual funds going down”. It was funny but it also really hurt! And every time she’d step on my cock (which she did a lot) she’d say “oops” in the cutest manner as if her trampling my privates were a complete and total accident.
In fact, sometimes it was too much fun with her. My mistress was more than happy to chat with me about other trample clients she’d had in the past. She’d start talking and it would distract her so she’d stand in one place for a while. Even with her slim build, having all of her weight bearing down on her high heels without moving was really painful. Once she started telling me a story while standing full weight on my chest, one spike heel digging directly into my sternum. The discomfort level literally increased every few seconds that she told the story. It hurt much worse than when she was just walking about on me.
One of the best things about the session was that my mistress was more than happy to do things that my old girlfriends would NEVER consider – like stepping on my face full weight. When I asked her to she said “sure” and her high-heeled boot immediately gets planted on my face and I felt her weight being transferred to that foot. It’s what I loved about being with her – whatever I asked her to do she did without hesitation or judgment.
But I told her I couldn’t have any marks on my face since I work in a professional office. So she stopped and shifted her weight to the other leg while keeping her boot on my face and looking down at me. It was complete domination to be laying at the feet of this gorgeous woman and have her pleasantly smile at me while she crushed my face under her boot. At that moment I felt like everything was right with the world.
And that’s the weird thing about the whole session. I thought it was just going to be about the trampling – something to satisfy my physical needs. But while it was going on I was completely relaxed, so emotionally at peace with myself. The more she trampled me the more I fell into this pleasant bliss. Sometimes she’d twist on her heel and the pain would snap me back into reality. But all in all, I found it to be like a combination of a relaxing deep massage and a cathartic psychotherapy session. The arousal factor and the endorphins pumping through my veins more than compensated for what should have been a fairly painful experience under her heels. The emotional benefits lasted strongly for hours afterward (and a little bit even for days). It was like taking a hit of the most exhilarating drug.
In the last few minutes of the session as I’m laying on my stomach the domme stood beside me in her high heel pumps. She pulled up my shirt and stood back up to admire her handiwork of high heel marks all over my back. Given that she had been walking, standing, and even jumping on me in heels for an hour, it wasn’t surprising that there were dozens of welts all over my body. The marks were so clear that one could distinguish the different heels from the several boots and shoes she had been wearing.
She stared down at my back for maybe 30 seconds in complete silence, not saying anything or moving a muscle. I’m kind of worn out by this point so I was glad for the break. Then my mistress said “there are so many heel marks” in a kind of dreamy, far-off voice. It sounded so different from the tone I’d heard all day long. Then I felt the mistress dig her high heel into my back and immediately step away. Again she does it. And I realized that she was deliberately trying to create some marks on my back! It was like some sort of brutal experiment. She completely ignored the fact that there’s a living, breathing person beneath that skin – me!.
The domme still hasn’t said a word when I felt her heel come down on my back one more time and she put all of her weight on it and started twisting. I could tell right away by how viciously she was grinding her heel into me that it would leave a big red welt. She stepped back and knelt down to look at my skin carefully for a few seconds. I felt her fingers softly caress the brand new gouge in my back and I heard that same dreamy voice say “much better”. Then she pulled my shirt down, stood up, and turned away. A moment later she’s chatting away again like normal. Wow, what just happened ?? I have the feeling that my domme really got off on marking up my back with her heel. Maybe I’m not the only one who enjoyed our session!