There's a backstory to this fictional story. It was written by a slave for me when I was about 16/17, back in the early 2000s. I had not long got the internet at home and explored the trampling fetish online. Somehow I had met this slave and we talked for many months, possibly years. I don't recall exactly. I do remember making the 'rules'. What he's written is very rough and unrealistic but is based on conversations we must have had at the time. What intrigues me is that I was obviously having these thoughts even at that age, unrealistic as they are. This was well before any proper trampling experience I'd had so I wasn't to know the realities of actually trampling a guy.
After nearly 20 years he has recently found me again and sent me the story I'd forgotten all about.
As it begins to stir from its fitful sleep, it felt the hard floor beneath it. it has no mattress beneath its body, no pillow beneath its head. it can feel a lot more than the floor though, every breath that it takes, every slight movement and muscle twitch, its body feels a spasm of pain coursing through it. its head is numb and its thinking blurry. Is this pain real, or part of a bad dream?
Full consciousness comes to it (though the battered head is perhaps preventing full comprehension). it hears its Master breathing peacefully and it is happy with what its life has come down to. Even through the pain, it loves its Master. it listens to him breathing, it knows its Master's sleeping patterns and knows that soon He will be awake. it knows the way He sleeps, the way He wakes and the way He uses His feet - its pain is testimony to that. it hears the first sounds of Him stirring, and estimates that He will be awake in about 20 minutes, and another day at His wonderful, masculine, hot and superior feet will begin. it wonders if it will be another day of agony. In some strange way, it hopes so, though doubts that it could survive a session as intense as last night just yet.
it manages to glance up at Him, He looks so peaceful and comfortable as He sleeps. He is so hot, so handsome, His head upon the pillow, His beautiful dark hair, His sensual masculine lips - the slave can never fully believe how hot its Master is, and how lucky it is to be in His service. it glances down the length of the bed, taking in His 6 foot 1 inch body. He is so fit, so strong, and so superior. is it any wonder He has a faggot crawling at His feet. He deserves to be worshipped. He looks so innocent as He sleeps. Almost angelic, though the slave imagines that the slight smile on His lips is more to do with recollections of inflicting severe pain on His slave with His feet rather than thinking about saintly deeds He can perform. As it looks up at its Master, it realizes how unbelievably lucky it is, how its Master could have anyone He wanted beneath those hot, youthful, superior feet. it knows that it is extremely lucky to breath the same air as its Master, and that it is only right that the air it often breaths is heavily laced with its Master's foot, sneaker and sock odor.
it realizes that all is right in the world, its world anyway. its Master sleeping in a good quality comfortable bed, plump pillows beneath His head, lambs wool underlay beneath Him, fresh sheets and linen. From its position on the floor, it continues to listen to its Master's breathing and prepares for the coming day. Visions of what it endured the night before are still clear in its mind though.
it recites the facts of its life softly under its breath so as not to disturb its Master. it starts every morning with the facts of its life. They are a mantra to its Master. He determined them, it lives by them. it remembers a time when it put up some resistance to some of them that now seems a long time ago. it's Master is always right.
1. my Master's feet own me
2. I live for my Master's feet
3. I am lower than the dirt under my Master's feet
4. I eat the dirt off my Master's feet
5. I lick anything else off my Master's feet
6. I love when my Master's feet hurt me
7. I do anything my Master tells me to
8. My Master's feet are my only reason for living
9. I feel happiest when my Master is standing all over me
10. My face is a foot stool for my Master
12. My Master's feet are worth ten times that of my life
13. My favorite punishment is to be kicked in the head, hard
14. My Master is one hot guy
15. I love to be verbally abused by my Master
16. I am a human doormat for my Master
17. I am a human trampoline for my Master
18. My Master doesn't think of me as anything but a fag
19. I cannot be cheeky to my Master
20. I only serve my Master, no one else (unless my Master says so)
21. I care about my Masters feet - but all they care about is how to inflict pain on me
22. My Master is always right
23. My Master deserves better than me
24. I am lucky to have my hot, superior Master
25. I would feel sad without constant pain caused by my Master's hot feet
As it recites the 'facts of its life' to itself, it realizes how well they really do reflect the reality of its life. Last night was a perfect example of that. it truly realized most of the facts last night, and its sore and weary body was proof. if it had followed the facts more closely, and lived by them better, it is sure it would not be in as much pain. The fact that it had broken some of the facts of its life meant that it had to be punished, and that punishment was far beyond what it normally experiences at its Master's feet. it was intense pain, designed to hurt, designed to leave it with a clear reminder of its place in life, its role, its inferiority, the fact that it is nothing but a fag, a foot fag even, at the feet of its young hot Master, and that it lives for its Master's feet and has no other reason for being.
it had learnt its lesson and loved its Master all the more for it. it loved the feet that caused it so much pain, it loved to kiss, lick and massage them, while its Master relaxed. it sometimes wondered how feet that were so perfect, so beautiful, so masculine in their beauty, could cause so much pain, could delight in causing so much suffering beneath them, but this only added to its love for them. it especially loved its Master's heels.
The events of the previous night were still so clear in its mind. it ran through them over and over again, and with every surge of pain it tried to determine what part of its Master's feet had caused that pain. Which part of its Master's feet had inflicted. it particularly liked to remember the look in its Master's eyes as he hurt it.
it thought back to the night that had just passed, it had started off rather uneventfully, under its Master's feet - its face for His foot rest as he relaxed. its Master had even fed it. Even if it was pizza that it had to eat off its Master's feet after he had stepped in it. Even if it had to clean his feet at the same time as it ate pizza off them, and listen to its Master demanding that it lick the dirt and pizza off his feet. it's Master laughing at its dirt colored tongue and teasing it about the prospect of getting germs from His feet. But that was usual - "I eat the dirt off my Master's feet" and "I lick anything else off my Master's feet". Later that evening though it would come to learn what some of the other 'facts' truly meant.
Shortly after finishing its dinner and licking its Master's feet clean it was made to lie on the floor. It wasn't long before its Master stepped onto its face with His full weight, feeling its nose flatten beneath His feet. He relished its tears as they began to fall as He jumped up high, and then down again, directly on its nose, breaking it beneath His feet. Not a glimmer of sympathy in His dark eyes. The punishment had begun.
From its face, its Master jumped onto its chest, winding it and laughing at the sound of air deflating. He broke into a sprint on the spot.. bringing His feet down hard and fast.. the sound of the thuds deafening. He slowed back down to a walk - bringing His heels down sharply. Master looked down into its eyes, as they pleaded for mercy, and keeping eye contact brought His heels down with absolute brutal force, until He heard a loud crack each side of its rib cage, a look of satisfaction in His eyes as He knew that He had broken a few ribs on each side.
its Master then jumped onto its stomach, winding it again, and began jumping so that it couldn't catch its breath, after what seemed an eternity, its face turning blue from lack of air, its Master jumped hard onto its crotch. Even though the pain was excruciating, it was at least able to take a breath; it seemed that its only relief from pain was for it to be replaced with more pain, but in a different part of its body.
Master lifted His foot up high, positioned over the slave's very sensitive area. He looked into its eyes, seeing them plead, beg for leniency, but brought His foot down hard, grinding and squashing everything beneath it. it remembers hearing Master's laughter at the damage His feet had caused, but thinks that the laughter was easily drowned out by the howls of pain.
It wasn't over though, and its Master made sure that it knew that, and seemed to take extreme delight in assuring it that the pain had just begun.
it had yet to endure the trampoline. it's Master ordered it to lie on the trampoline. He tied it to it, defenseless, totally exposed, unable to move - not that it would. it's Master jumped onto its stomach, loving the way that it bounced beneath His feet. Master started to jump high, higher, and higher, (and harder and harder) its pathetic tortured body suffering beneath him. its Master ensured that no part of its body was spared - especially the broken ribs, squashed nose and ruined sensitive groin area.
it was yet to have its neck put out as its Master bounced onto its face. its Master realized this, but continued with His fun, after all it was a human trampoline for its Master and would feel sad without the constant pain inflicted by its Master's feet. How it was realizing the importance that the facts really held in its life.
Could it handle any more pain? it was sorry that it had ever upset its Master, it knew that it had to be punished, but did not think that it ever would be this bad, this prolonged, but the punishment continued. Next it felt its Master's sole crushing its throat, stopping it from breathing. Even though it was terrified it would die at its Master's feet, the feel of His large sole pressing on its throat was reassuring. In an unexplainable way, it loved the feet that inflicted so much pain on it, and felt secure at them - even when unable to breath.
Being kicked in the head like a football and having to do twenty pushups while its Master stood on its back were still to come.
it's Master was now awake. He swung His legs over the side of the bed. The slave noticed him glance at its battered and bruised body. Was there a look of sadness and regret in His eyes for the damage and pain He had inflicted? As His feet landed on the broken ribs and smashed nose, and He stood up with His full weight grinding it beneath His heels, it gathered not.
It was a new day.