The DJ Booth story

This is a fictional story I wrote based on a similar story I found 10+ years ago online. I have spent years searching for that story again but haven't been able to find it. So, decided to write my own. This is written from the tramplee point of view - watch this space, I will write the same story from the trampler point of view soon!

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I was both nervous and excited. I was parked up at the club early in the evening, a whole hour earlier than I needed to be. I’d thought about pulling out but knew I would regret it if I didn’t go through with the experience. After what seemed like forever I saw Dane walking towards the entrance door, unlocking the door and then going inside. As I got out of the car my heart started beating faster. I walked across the carpark and opened the door, hesitating once inside before heading down the stairs. The place looked very different without people everywhere. I walked towards the bar and waited for him to emerge from out back. 

He came out and made eye contact with me, I saw a smirk on his face. “You made it. Good, follow me”. I could only nod, he started walking to the back of the club where the DJ booth was. I followed him across the dance floor. I noticed the thick Timberland boots he was wearing as I walked behind him. “Doors don’t open for another hour, you may as well make yourself comfortable on the floor now though”. Still without saying a word I lay down on my back at the base of the booth. He walked off and continued getting the place ready for the night ahead.

I had met Dane online via a craigslist ad I had posted. Ever since I can remember I have always had a desire to be stood on and trampled by guys. I had posted several ads on craigslist over the years, trying to find guys willing to stand on me and trample my body. Some good sessions had come from it. I had never had a response like Dane’s though. He had messaged saying he manages a local club, and would I like to be underneath a DJ while he plays his set one night. He had a DJ who was on board with the idea. I couldn’t believe my luck, and agreed straight away. We chatted for a week or so and set the date and time. The rules were clear: no chatting, I had to lay there for the whole set and be the DJ’s doormat with no complaints.

After what seemed to be a long wait I heard a noise, footsteps coming towards me. This must be the DJ. He came up into the booth and barely looked down at me, although he clearly knew I was there as he stepped onto my stomach and chest with little hesitation. I looked down at his feet and saw a pair of well used Adidas hightops. He stood there while setting up, playing with his controls and testing the sound out. Occasionally he would shift the weight in his legs. 15 minutes or so must have passed and he hopped off me all of a sudden. Crouching down, his face came into view just in time to see him spit right in my face. I flinched, not expecting this. "Listen up - I've heard all about you. You are to stay here all night underneath me. Don't try to stop what I'm doing or interrupt me in any way, or else you will pay. Got it?". I nodded, again speechless but very turned on by his dominance. He stood up, put his headphones on, laughs and steps back up onto me - and with that the music starts and the night begins. 

The first hour wasn't too bad. Not many people were there, the club was quiet. The DJ had been on me the whole time, shifting his weight every now and then.. tapping his feet to the music. Whoever was there would never be able to see me as the booth is closed off to the dancefloor. Dane appeared at one point, talking to the DJ. I couldn't hear what they were saying over the music. Without looking down Dane stepped up onto my crotch, one foot on my thighs, one on my dick. The extra weight was intense but I took it well and I found myself wondering what they both weighed. Dane was a little heavier, closer to 90kg while the DJ I believed to be around 80kg. Dane disappeared and left me with the DJ still on my chest and stomach. He needed something to his right and took a step, planting one foot on my face. I wasn't prepared for this and I realised it was not a good position for him with balance. I briefly wondered if he meant to stand on my face or not - just as I had this thought, his sneaker stomped my head to the side and I felt what must have been his full weight come down on my head. Now he had better balance and he remained there for a minute or two before stepping back onto my chest. Dane reappeared shortly afterwards with a drink for him, and I caught them both looking down at me - they were talking about me but I couldn't quite make it what was said. The DJ had just told Dane about standing on my head. The next thing I knew, Dane is pushing my head to the side with his boots and I feel the boot come down on me. More cautiously than the DJ, but sure enough all the weight came on and I felt his right boot join the left on my head. The DJ started to bounce a little more as the music got louder. Dane was still on my head and it felt like it was about to burst from the pressure. I started to panic thinking no one would hear me from down here and there was no way I could shift them off me. Luckily Dane hopped off, and headed back to the bar shortly afterwards. 

As the night went on my body started to hurt. I was used to around 2 hours of trampling in a session so this was much longer than my normal type of sessions. I couldn't see the crowd but the club now sounded very busy and the music was really full on. The DJ had been bouncing and shifting all over me, a few times even jumping on my stomach to the music. There was a bathroom behind us through a door. He set his headphones down to go and piss. For a brief moment I considered making a run for it.. but I wanted to see this out to the end. I decided to roll over so I'm on my front and he could trample my back. This should make me last longer. I doubted he even noticed as he came back and jumped on to me. Now on my stomach I couldn't see anyone who came into the booth. They all knew I was there, and stood on me too. I could feel when Dane was there as the treads from his boots were very hard and distinctive. There was a 3rd guy in some sort of sneakers who spent time next to the DJ on me. He was more active on me, stomping and jumping in time to the music, probably drunk or high. The crowd must have been looking up at these two guys and dancing to the music, not in the slightest bit aware they were jumping and stomping all over a person on the floor beneath them. As I thought this to myself I got a rush of excitement.. this was exactly where I belonged. 

Some time later I had no idea what the time it was, my back was getting very sore from being jumped all over and stomped. When I got another opportunity to roll over I took it, going on to my back and looking up. The DJ must have been in the bathroom again but the 3rd guy was there and sees me roll over. I could tell he had taken something as he looked a bit wired. He seemed to be processing that it was ok to trample my front.. he shrugged and stepped up onto my stomach, bouncing. Then he was back into the music and it was like he forgot about me, dancing, a few jumps and stomps all over my front. The DJ returned and resumed his place on my chest, this time one foot on my head again. I saw it coming and turned my head to the side just in time. The music was hard and heavy and he was using that beat to really drive his sneakers into me hard. Even on my head, the stomps were so hard I was starting to see stars. I eventually couldn't take it anymore and my hands went up to grab his leg. He was not happy about this, stepping off me and kicking me really hard in the arm a few times. He stomped my head, then hopped back onto my stomach and chest. The final hour was a blur, different people coming into the booth and standing all over my body. 

My body felt numb and I was almost at the point of passing out. Suddenly the lights came on, the club was starting to close and people must have been leaving. The DJ continued to play music as the last people were herded out, and eventually hopped off me and looked down to survey his damage. I couldn't move. He extended a hand to me and smiled, helping me up by seemingly peeling me off the floor. He handed me a drink of water, and I gulped it down. "You handled that very well, I'm impressed. How are you feeling?". I told him it was the most intense trampling session I had ever endured, and that I would be very bruised and sore for a week or so. He laughed and pushed me out of the booth. "Go home. We will do this again sometime". I smiled nervously, and headed towards the door. He didn't even ask me if I wanted to do it again. Does that mean I didn't have a choice? I got to my car and looked at myself in the mirror. I could see marks all over my face and head. I looked down to see my shirt was ruined with dirty prints, and lifted my shirt to find my skin was all red and bruised. This was going to be a long recovery, but a session I would remember for the rest of my life.