Trampling Recollections

I recently had this true story emailed to me by a follower and thought you would enjoy. I love to hear these kinds of stories, either from recent times or a distant memory.

At the end he poses a question relating to what happened in the session and why it happened. If you have an opinion and want to share it, make a post in the comment section below.

If you readers are interested we can do more of this with your true stories and try to answer any questions you may have or share our opinions on something specific you want.

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Here's my recollection of a trample experience I literally must have blocked out of my mind a long time ago. I was very scared and anxious after it happened. I only remembered the experience when I saw my friend and his Dad together this last Christmas holiday. I had not seen or spoken with my friend's Dad in about 28 years. I was really anxious when talking to him just like I was after he trampled me 28 years ago. I think I blocked it out because I was so afraid he was going to talk about what happened with other adults I knew, especially my parents. I don't know why I thought he would say anything since he was part of it, but I think that was just my immaturity in thinking that people would think worse of me than of him as he was a respected adult. Anyway, here is what I recall of the event.

I had a friend Frank who lived a couple of blocks from me. We were best friends starting around 8 years old - played on the same soccer team, same class at school, etc. I’ve had my foot fetish since I can remember, like 5 years old. However, I was embarrassed by it and didn’t want anyone to know. When I was about 6 years old a friend (not Frank) from school came over to play and at some point, we were both lying on the floor in socks watching TV. He needed to use the bathroom, so he got up and I was laying on my back on the floor. As he was walking to the bathroom he stepped on and walked over my stomach. He was laughing because he thought it was funny, but that was when I realized I LOVED the feel of feet and weight on my body. When he came back from the bathroom, I was hoping he would do it again so I made sure to be laying on the floor where he would have to step over me or step on me…. and thank God he did the same thing again. He thought it was so much fun.

Since he was laughing and thought it was fun, I said “do that again” and he was more than happy to do it over and over again. I decided to laugh as well as though I thought it was funny, so as not to act as though I liked it. Eventually, he started to stand on me and raised his hands like he was doing a victory pose. I commented that I thought he wasn’t really heavy and I could hold him. From that day on, I made sure to hang out with him a lot and put myself in the position to be stepped on etc. which he did every time we were together. However, after about a year of hanging out with him his family moved.

I loved watching pro wrestling in hopes that the wrestlers would step on each other, stomp, foot chokes, etc. It was one of the only ways I could experience foot domination. When I got to third grade, I met Frank. He had moved to my town and lived close by. As we got to know each other, he told me how he loved pro wrestling. Right away I thought this was an opportunity to try and get stepped on. To make a long story short, we started playing “pro wrestling” for fun.

What was amazing is that Frank loved the “heels”. He enjoyed how they beat up the jobbers. Frank also liked the good guys when they wrestled heels, but he preferred watching wrestlers getting destroyed. So, when we would play wrestle, I always would let him take control and beat me up and win. At first, he wouldn’t step on me or anything. He would do fake stomping and kicking. I didn’t want to tell him to step on me, so I tried to figure out what to do to get him to do it on his own without me saying anything. I decided to become the bad guy during one of our play wrestling matches, and I forced him to the floor and stepped on him and held him down with my foot. At first Frank got mad, but I said why should he be mad because this is what they do in pro wrestling…. they don’t fake it. It basically made him want revenge, which is what I was hoping for.

Right after that situation, I went back to letting him be the heel and beat the heck out of me. When I would fall on the floor, he immediately stepped on me and held me down. I could tell Frank started to like dominating me with his feet. However, it was strictly stepping on me and holding me down for a bit and nothing different. That was ok with me at the time. As time went by, I decided to try to taunt him to do more. I started saying things like, “you’re not so tough, I can hardly tell you’re doing anything” and “you’re so light I can’t even feel you”. Saying things like that eventually worked and Frank would walk over my stomach and stand on me. I would exaggerate that it was causing me discomfort and that made him happy and would get him excited to do it more and more. Frank started to get more creative and he would jump on my stomach, do foot chokes, and everything like that. I would act like he was making me struggle and causing me to really be uncomfortable, but not enough that he was hurting me. It just got better from there.

Frank got so comfortable doing all those things and he loved it, it made him try something I was hoping he would. Once when he was standing on me facing my head in a victory pose, I said that I was strong enough to get him off of me (which I could easily do because he was about 2” smaller than me and about 15—20 lbs. lighter). I lifted my head off the floor and used my arms to try and lift and throw him off. I was taunting him saying stuff like “watch this” and other things like I was getting ready to dominate him. Frank did what I was hoping. He put one of his sock feet right on my face and pushed my head back to the floor and applied pressure. I acted like I didn’t like it and that he was crushing me and there was nothing I could do. Frank was so happy with himself and laughed and taunted me back saying he was the best. He kept his foot on my face for quite awhile because I wouldn’t say “give”. Eventually I did, and he was so proud of himself.

From there it’s history. Whenever we wrestled and I would try to fight back, he would do all of those things… and loved stepping on my face. This led to standing on my face, walking over my face, etc. The one thing I always worried about was he would realize that I actually liked what he was doing and would tell people or not want to do it anymore. Fortunately, I don’t think he thought anything about it until we were like 16 or so.

Ok, why all this information about Frank if the story is really about his father? I wanted to give context by explaining the relationship with Frank and my growing foot fetish and desire to be trampled. We hung out all the time, mainly because of my trample fetish and Frank loved doing it. Our wrestling meets went on until about the age of 14. That’s when Frank stopped watching and caring much about pro wrestling. However, he still liked to get me on the floor and trample me and say he was the strongest or the best and make me say “give” . It didn't happen every time we hung out, but probably 80% of the time.

One thing that was important for me was trying to make sure no one would see or watch us when we wrestled or when he would get me on the floor and then trample me. I was really scared what other friends and adults would think if they saw Frank doing that to me and I let it happen. Each time we hung out and we were going to wrestle or I hoped he would just trample me; I would wait and make sure no one was around or was far enough away from us that I would hear them coming before they would see or know what was going on and that way, I could stop it.

One of these times we were at Frank’s house in his basement family room. That’s where all of us kids hung out and watched TV, played pool, ping pong, video games, etc. The parents had their own private room and another family room where they watched TV and hung out. After school one day, Frank told me to come over so we could shoot baskets on his driveway court. We did, and then went into his house to the basement. Of course, I was hoping he would trample me.

We played some ping pong and then he wanted to get something to eat and drink. He turned the TV on and said he was going to get us some snacks and drinks. While he went to do that, I made sure to lay on the floor where I’d hope he would use the opportunity to trample me. I always tried to be close to the wall or some furniture that Frank could use for balance if necessary. Frank came back, and laid on the couch while I was on the floor. We watched TV and ate for a little while. I decided to say that I had been working out and doing lots of sit ups to get stronger and hopefully get a 6 pack. Frank laughed at me, and I responded that I was really trying to do it. Frank laughed and said something like ok let’s see how you handle this. He got off the couch and came over to me and immediately stood on my stomach. Then he did everything to me to try to get me to give up. Jumped on me, walked on top of me, etc.

Frank was trampling me for about 5 minutes when all of a sudden, his dad appeared at the bottom of the stairs just as Frank was standing with one foot on my stomach and the other on my face. I was petrified and so embarrassed. I froze. I didn’t know if it would be more embarrassing or suspicious if I forced Frank off and jumped up or just stayed there and acted like we were wrestling and roughing around. I just decided to stay there. It was too early for his father to be home from work, and we never heard him come in or come down the stairs. I’m paraphrasing what I remember Frank and Frank’s father (Joe) saying, but first he said “what are you guys doing?”. Frank immediately said “can’t you see I’m beating the crap out of Pete” and laughing. Joe said something like, “you’re going to hurt him.” Frank responded that we rough house all the time and he does this to me to make me give up and that I handle it. Joe asked me if I was ok, to which I replied I’m fine and I’m not giving up. Joe’s father laughed and Frank said “watch this”. That is when Frank brought his other foot up to my face and stood right in the middle of my face. Joe yelled “watch it” right away, but Frank said not to worry that he won’t hurt me but that it will make me give up. I just kept going with it and mumbled under his feet that he wasn’t going to make me give up. Joe laughed again, but then ordered Frank to get off me.

Joe then started yelling at Frank about how he had trashed the garage or shed or something with a lot of his junk and that he could hardly get inside to get anything and move around. He told Frank he had to go clean everything up “NOW” or he was grounded and would not be able to ride his bike for a while. Frank said he would do it in a little while, but Joe ordered him to do it immediately. I offered to help Frank, but his father said Frank had to do it by himself. I said I would go home then, but Frank said to wait and that it wouldn’t take him more than 15-30 minutes and to watch TV.

I said it’s probably best if I left, and Joe said I was welcome to stay if I wanted but he understood if I didn’t want to wait for Frank to finish. I said OK. Frank ran up the stairs to go to the garage and start cleaning and Joe removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt and went back upstairs. Joe was wearing a suit when he came into the house.

Joe is not a big man. He’s Italian and on the shorter side, like 5’6”. He was also pretty fit and good looking. I was maybe 5’4” or so and didn’t weigh a lot less than Joe. Anyway, I laid back down on the floor and was watching TV figuring nothing more was going to happen now that his dad was home. About 15 minutes later, Joe yelled down and asked if Frank had come back in and I replied no. About another 10 minutes later Joe walked down the stairs to see if Frank had come back in.

Joe was in a designer t-shirt but still had his dress pants on and was in his socks. I was laying right about where I was before. Joe said I might want to go home since it was taking Frank a long time. I said I didn’t mind waiting and that we might play some basketball when he’s done. Joe came into the family room and started walking over toward me. There’s a large chair nearby, so I thought he was going to sit down. Instead, he walked up close to me and said, “Are you ok? It looked like Frank might have been hurting you, and I don’t want to get sued” and then laughed. I said I was fine and said it was more struggling against the pressure/weight and not really pain. Joe laughed again and said “obviously you’re pretty tough”.

To better understand, our families had become very close. Joe joked around with me like he would Frank…he was like an adult buddy to me. The same with Frank and my Dad. However, I never expected his father to be comfortable enough with this kind of “joking” around. To my surprise, Joe said “let me see if you can take me”. I was both shocked, nervous, and completely excited. I actually got an immediate boner that I had to shift around in my pants.

I responded, sure…go ahead and try. With that Joe’s father put one of his socked feet on my stomach and started pushing down and putting a lot of pressure. I’m sure he was testing to see if I could really take it. After about a minute of that, he stood up on my stomach. I can tell you I was feeling ecstasy. Seeing this really good-looking adult standing on me and looking down was such a turn on. I was rock hard. I said, “you’re not much more than Frank” and that it wasn’t bad.

Joe commented something like “really?” I said yes. Then he started to bounce on my stomach, and I knew I was turning red and grunting a little. Joe started laughing and said “you can feel that can’t you” and I said yes. He kept doing it and watching my face. I was trying not to show how much I loved it but also making sure that he didn’t think he was hurting me. After a minute or so he got off my stomach and I let out a big breath in relief. Joe laughed again and said he was impressed.

I thought that was probably it, and at least I had such a great experience being trampled by an adult. But within 30 seconds or so, Joe put one foot on my stomach and then lifted himself and put his other foot right on my face. All I can say is that I almost prematurely ejaculated without even touching myself. The first thing Joe said was “I hope my foot doesn’t smell too much” and laughed. It smelled awesome. Not dirty and rank, but like a little bit of sweat and leather…not clean like soap or cologne but not offensive at all. VERY HOT.

Joe asked me if it hurt and I said no. He stood on me for like a minute and kept looking down to check on me but also smiling. He bounced a little bit. Then Joe got down. He asked if I was ok, and I told him it was no problem. I had totally forgot about Frank, and wouldn’t have cared if he came down and saw. I even thought how hot it would be if they both stood on me.

Now I thought it must be over, but Joe then put one foot on my chest and stepped up and stood on me facing my head. Joe said “it must be easier to have me on your chest than your stomach” which it was. I said yes, a little bit. Joe just stood there and looked down at me and I looked up and smiled and laughed. I commented that I never thought I can handle someone bigger than me. Joe said “it looks like you can” and then laughed. Then, out of nowhere, he put one foot right on the middle of my face. I was so surprised. As soon as he did that, he started twisting it on my face and said, “how’s this Nicky” (my middle name is Dominic and some of my close family call me Nicky instead of Pete or Peter). It was such a turn on I thought I was going to bust a load in my sweatpants. I was so afraid of cumming in my pants.

Joe was laughing and I started laughing to make it look like I thought it was a funny joke too. He was twisting on my face for only about 10 seconds and then stopped but kept his foot on my face. Joe said “you’re a good sport”. Then he got down off of me. Now I thought for sure it was over, and I really wanted to leave because of how turned on I was and wanted to go home and jerk off to the memories. However, it wasn’t over yet.

Joe was only off of me for about 20 – 30 seconds when he stood back on my stomach. At this point I was just waiting for him to stop so I could go jerk off. I was so turned on. This time was different, and I got the shit scared out of me. As Joe was standing on my stomach, he took one foot and stepped down on my crotch. I WAS FREAKING! I couldn’t imagine why he put his foot there, and I knew right away he could tell I was hard as a rock. He was stepping down right on my dick. All I could think of was he was going to jump off me and call me a fag or say I was disgusting, a freak, or anything like that. My heart was beating out of my chest.

Joe was just standing there looking down at his feet standing on my stomach and my dick. I started to grunt and moan a bit because I was so sensitive at that point. Joe looked back at me and I think he could tell I was afraid but also highly aroused. Then he started rubbing my dick with his foot and pumping up and down on it. This was not good. I was doing everything I could not to bust in my pants. Next, Joe was holding onto the wall and balancing, and then started moving his other foot up to my chest. He would shift his weight back and forth from each foot. I knew I was going to bust, but I was hoping it would be after he stepped down off of me. I had already decided I was going to try to say that I get hardons sometimes because I think all the weight on my stomach and body makes the blood rush to my dick for some reason. Then it got worse…or better if looking at it in a positive light.

Joe placed his other foot right on my face and was shifting his weight from the one foot on my face to the other on my dick. He turned and looked down at me with no expression but then smiled and started to push down harder on my face and rubbing my dick with his other foot. It only took about 20-30 seconds of that and I blew my load in my pants. There is no doubt he could feel my dick pulsating under his foot. Joe stopped moving when I started cumming but stood there with his foot on my face and dick. I was feeling both erotic ecstasy and extreme fear at the same time. I made sure to hold in any moaning while I busted, but it was very hard to do it.

Seconds after I stopped cumming Joe stepped down and just said, “How are you doing? Are you ok?”. I was in complete shock and horror, but I responded “Yeah, I’m good”. Joe said, “you really can handle a lot of weight and pressure. You should play football when you’re in high school.” I was numb and didn’t know what to say or do. Joe said, “I’m going to check on Frank to see what’s taking him so long. You can wait if you want but you probably are tired of waiting and want to go home”. I said, “yeah… I need to get home because we’ll be having dinner soon”. Joe walked back upstairs and I ran to the bathroom and cleaned up the inside of my sweatpants and my crotch and ran home without saying anything to Frank. I was in awe of what happened but also petrified and unsure what was going to happen after that.

I didn’t hang out or do anything with Frank for over a week because I was so scared to go to his house. Eventually I went back over and everything went back to normal. I avoided Joe at all costs because I truly believed he thought I was weird and he might be talking about what happened to other people. I don’t think he ever said anything to anyone since no one ever mentioned anything about it. I think I was just so anxious and paranoid that I made myself believe Joe was disgusted by me and just waiting to tell people or least tell them about what I let Frank do to me.

To this day I still find it hard to believe that it really happened. I’ve thought up theories as to why Joe did that with me, but I’m never really sure what the reason was. I do know now that he meant to get me off, but the why is what is puzzling.

Why do you think he did it and then never acted differently to me or like it never happened? Why didn’t he tell people he knew I had a foot fetish or something like that. It still puzzles me.

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The biggest reason that stands out to me is I'm not sure he would want to be telling people that he helped an underage person get off. It may not have been sexual for him, but he clearly saw it was sexual for you. Given his willingness to do it, I'm sure there was a degree of fascination and enjoyment for him as well. I can understand wanting to avoid him and nerves around being 'outed', but it's a shame you didn't get another go under his weight - wrong as it may be given your age at the time!

What does everyone else think? Comment your thoughts below.