The Escort 15 min read

I had thought for several years of hiring an escort to come out to my place and walk on me for an hour. Well that fantasy finally came to reality last week. I called up a service and explained to the female dispatcher what I was looking for. I hoped that she wouldn’t think wanting to be stepped on made me a freak or anything. Before I called, I had the fear she might even hang up on me !

But she said it was fine and that a lot of guys had asked for much more unusual things, which totally put me at ease.

In fact she said that it sounded interesting and she knew one of the girls might be into it ! Which was probably a lie but I enjoyed it nonetheless. The dispatcher would give her my number and she would call me to schedule a time to get together. So at least I got things going (maybe).

Sure enough a few days later I was called and spoke to a girl with a really attractive voice. Like she could do phone sex, no problem. I explained what I was looking for. In a matter-of-fact manner she said that trampling was OK with her. Like “ho hum, I’ll step on you. Fine.” Which made me relieved but also curious as to the stranger things other guys asked for. Anyway arrangements were made for her to come over. I had asked her to please wear high heeled court shoes – which turned out to be no problem since she had several pairs that she wore to work. I was so excited !

On the agreed upon day (and only 20 minutes late) the doorbell rang. I was pleasantly surprised to see how attractive she was. Early 20’s. Long brown hair with some mild waves. About 5-7 (170 cm) with a slim build. Knee length skirt. She was a girl I would notice in the tube station or at the pub. And wearing high heels as I had requested (which I was relieved about. I thought she might forget and show up in trainers or something hideous like that.)

The escort walked in and survey the place a bit, checking everything out but not saying a word. We then chatted small talk for a minute or so. I was pretty nervous. She then just blurted out, “well, aren’t you going to greet me properly? Kiss my feet.” I blubbered “yes, of course” and laid down at her feet and started kissing her pretty court shoes. The heels were spike, about 3 1/2 inches (9 cm), and went straight down from under her ankle. As I touched them with my lips I could feel how much weight were pressing down on them, making them feel like a thin pillar coming out of the floor they were so solid. But she would move them ever so slightly as she watched me kiss them and they appeared to float above the ground with each dainty step. And then be cemented into the floor again as she leaned her full body weight onto them.

The escort presented me with her right foot first and then after I had kissed it for a minute or so, she pulled it back and put her left foot out for me to kiss which I proceeded to do. After giving her a proper welcome I then turned over onto to my back and said that I would be honored if she would step on me as she went into my living room. Her small heel tips gave me some pause but I decided to just go for it. Her brown shoes were well worn, that was obvious. Both heel tips needed to be replaced so it was clear that she had walked on concrete with them often. I could see as the woman moved about that her leather soles were completely black with dirt. That fact was arousing in a way which surprised me.

After offering my body to be her welcome mat she said “You want me to step on you with my shoes on, right?” I said “yes”. As a check the escort held up her court shoe, displaying the thin heel and said “These are stilettos. You know this is going to hurt ?” in a weary, kind of fed-up way. Like “you idiot, are you sure about this ?”  I just responded “please do so”. And she replied “OK” as she placed her filthy shoe sole on my stomach.

I reached up and readjusted her shoe to show her where best to step on me: my crotch. Which made her chuckle. She then put her right foot on my groin and then she stepped on me, but not quite fully. Basically she kind of hopped over me and didn’t put much weight on me as she stepped across me. But still I felt that thin stiletto just get jabbed into my privates like I was being stabbed there ! It was a huge turn on and I started to get hard instantly.

She then turned around and I had her step on me again which she did this time with all of her weight. Which was great, but she almost fell over onto me in the process.

One thing I hadn’t accounted for was her keeping balance while she trampled me. I guess I just thought it would be easy like walking down the street. But I forgot my fat, lumpy body made that much more difficult for her. And that was especially true given her high heels.

So I suggested we move over by one of my high-backed chairs so she could hold onto that as she walked over me. The escort agreed that was a good idea so we repositioned. And we tried it again with the results being much easier for her. And much more painful for me as the escort trampled back and forth on me without a care in the world. I really was being treated now like a piece of sidewalk she was walking over. And those high heels were being stabbed into my stomach, chest and thighs with every full weight step.

After about 10 minutes of this I think the escort got a bit winded. She was doing a step-aerobics class of sorts (a kinky version at least) ! So she stopped and rested her shoe on my chest. I could see her rummaging through her purse and she pulled out a cigarette which she skillfully slid  between her red lips. I heard the lighter strike and the end of her fag burned red hot. As she put her lighter away I saw her head go back and she exhaled a big puff of smoke. Her stiletto shoe was firmly on my chest but most of her weight was actually centered with her other foot on the floor.

The escort then pulled out her phone and started to go through her messages, puffing from time to time. Completely ignoring me. I can’t tell you how much this wound me up !! I never realized that being stepped on and disregarded by a prostitute could be so arousing ! I think my privates had turned into a piece of iron by now.

After maybe 1 minute or so she asked “do you have an ash tray ?”, obviously needing to get rid of her cigarette ash. I responded “just flick it on me. It makes me feel like I’m the floor.” Which she instantly did without any hesitation or comment. Still looking at her phone. I thought my jeans and shirt would hopefully be thick enough to protect my skin from the hot ash.

“So you like being ignored under a woman’s shoes ?” The question surprised me, as did the movement of her pointy toe onto my crotch and erect penis. She pushed down hard on my member and then moved her shoe back to my chest. It was obvious the escort had noticed my arousal through  the trousers. To tell you the truth it was kind of embarrassing for me to have to admit my true kinks to a total stranger. And, I guess, admit them to myself as well. But she was a pro so that made it easier. I thought again of the girl on the phone made vague reference to REALLY strange requests that others had made.

So, emboldened, I said as calmly as I could muster, “would you mind resting your shoe on my face ?”  And she said “sure” like I had asked her to hand me a pencil or something. And she withdrew her foot from my chest and walked a couple of steps. I could feel the floor shake with each step like an earthquake. And the click of her heels hitting the hardwood was oh so amazing.

She stopped when she was standing right over me, towering above me like that old movie “Attack of the 50 Foot Woman”. I turned my face to make it easier for her and she immediately brought her shoe down on me.

“How much weight do you want ?” was her first question. I said as loudly as I could (so she’d hear me) “A FAIR BIT”. I really wanted to get the feeling of what it’s like to get your face stepped on. And I immediately felt her lean in and much of her 130 lbs (60 kg) crushing down on me. And let me tell you, it felt like my head was in a vice. This woman wasn’t playing around.

Her court shoe sole was pushing down on my temple at this point. And I was enveloped with the smell of leather. And dirt. I imagined all the streets this prostitute had walked on in those sexy shoes. Wore them to work, out to the clubs. Trash in the street she had tread on without a second thought. And all that filth and scum was being pressed into my face at this moment. By this attractive young girl who otherwise didn’t seem to care at all (or even notice). That thought was completely intoxicating.

As she flicked another bit of ash on me, the escort asked “do you want to feel the heel ?”, which came out of the blue and surprised me. I thought the escort had forgotten about me. I barked out “YES” as best I could hoping she could hear me. And she obviously did since I felt her shoe adjust so that the spike heel tip landed right onto my cheek. And again I felt the weight start to be placed back on me. But this time I began to panic since I could feel that tiny heel begin to cut into my cheek skin. It was Saturday so I didn’t mind a slight mark which (I hoped) would fade by work Monday morning. But this felt like somebody was jabbing me in the face. So I said “WAIT” as loudly as I could and grabbed her heel, redirecting it to my jaw bone which could handle the weight better (and also be less noticeable if I did get a mark).

My new prostitute friend went back to being engrossed in her phone as her spike heeled shoe rested on my head.  I was loving every moment of this. She and I would both adjust our positions in very tiny ways but essentially the scene went unchanged for several minutes. My face was merely a footrest for this lady of the evening while she enjoyed her cigarette and looked over her mobile phone. She made me feel so inconsequential and low beneath her, which I enjoyed immensely. And the flicking of the ash continued this whole time without regard to where the ash landed. Mostly on my clothes. Some on the floor. Once even in my hair. But she obviously couldn’t care less about where her flicks were landing. I really was nothing to her.

After a few minutes of this I saw the cigarette bounce right in front of my face (close enough to almost make me flinch). Then she removed her shoe from my head and proceeded to crush out the cigarette just inches in front of me, the pointy toe of her court shoe swinging by my nose time and time again. I guess she really wanted to make sure she had put it out. Or maybe that’s always how she steps on her cigarettes. But after several grinds she stopped, her shoe standing still on top of it. While she continued to read her text messages.

It occurred to me right then that this girl was really taking liberties, crushing out a cigarette on my wood floor without even asking me if she could. But actually as I thought about it, it was even more of a turn on how she didn’t care about my opinion or my stuff and just did whatever she wanted to do without any regard for me. That was so exhilarating !

We continued like this for a short while, as if she had forgotten about our session all together. So while I laid there I worked up the courage to ask her “can I clean the bottom of your shoe ?” That was basically asking if I could lick off the cigarette ash. Which was totally gross, I know, but I loved the idea so much !

Like everything else my prostitute just said “OK” as if it were nothing. But then she added “take off all your clothes first”. Which I thought was kinky but was happy to oblige. And I wiggled out of my shirt and trousers as fast as I could until I was as naked as the day I was born. Laying right at her feet. She was still texting on her phone, ignoring the now nude me.

I guess she realized I was finished undressing since I wasn’t moving around anymore so she gave me a quick glance. My penis was at full attention and there was nothing I could do to hide this, so my pervy self was on full display. So she picked up her court shoe (the one that had just stepped on the cigarette) and aimed it over my mouth. The crushed out cigarette actually stuck to the bottom of her sole and only fell off right before it got to my face. I was so disappointed !! I was hoping to lick or even eat the cigarette butt. Alas, it was not to be. I then quickly took her shoe in my hand and lowered it until it was maybe a 1/2 inch from my mouth. And my tongue started lapping away.

I could first taste the dust and dirt from her blackened shoe sole (it was light tan in colour under the arch so I suspect the whole leather sole was that color before she walked in them). Quickly I found the cigarette crush spot and it was slightly warm ! I so loved that. And I proceeded to dig into that spot with my tongue time and time again. It was a horrible, unpleasant metallic taste, but I couldn’t imagine having anything more desirable in my mouth.

With thin leather soles my prostitute could, I’m sure, feel me licking away right where she had crushed out her cigarette. And given my full erection, she knew it was really turning me on. So I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when I heard her say “wow, you really are a perv.” Which bummed me out a bit to realize the depth of my oddness. But I kept licking away, knowing this was such a rare and perfect moment.

After maybe 30 seconds of this my prostitute said “That’s enough. Let’s get back to stepping on you.” And she put away her phone and began to walk back and forth on my naked body. I guess she had enough of my weird behavior. But the trampling now was even more severe than before. My bare skin was taking the brunt of her thin heeled shoes, leaving many red marks and even small cuts or scratches as she walked about. Her heel tips had been worn away so the bare metal cores of her spike heels were being driven into my skin. And she didn’t hesitate to step on my erect penis with every walkover. In fact, I think she started aiming for it with each lap.

To change things up she had me lay down at the bottom of the steps into my living room. She then trampled me as she walked up and down the stairs. It was bad enough when she went upstairs. But the force of those heels coming down the stairs was like being stabbed. All her weight would land down on my chest or stomach with plenty of momentum. She even used my head a few times which I thought might break my skull. (I survived.) But being totally naked while she was wearing her stylish outfit & shoes only made the situation more enjoyable for me. It felt so great laying there while this complete stranger walked all over my nude body.

When time was up I put on my pants and then fished out the £ for the fee plus a nice tip. She smiled at seeing the extra money (about the only time I felt like she acknowledged my presence as another human being).

Just like that, she was out the door. For a few seconds I could hear the click of her high heels as she walked down the sidewalk.  And then there was silence . . .