Sock Endurance story
This is a fictional story but it is somewhat based off some recent sessions I've had. If you're not a fan of impact trampling, but softer endurance style trampling - this story is for you.
I opened the door quietly and slipped inside. I took my sneakers off and left them at the door, creeping further into his house. There wasn't a big need to be quiet, he had the place to himself for the weekend, and was already on the floor somewhere inside. I wanted to surprise him. He was blindfolded and had noise cancelling headphones on so he couldn't hear me coming, but I wanted to be sure he didn't anticipate my first step. This was something different to our usual sessions and I had been looking forward to it all week.
As I walked through the living room, I spotted him on the floor near the kitchen. He was shirtless and I could hear the soft hum of the music he was listening to in full volume. I had arrived late on purpose so he was full of fear and excitement, not knowing when my foot was going to land on him. I got closer to him and paused. I know he hadn't heard me but could he sense me? Doubtful. I raised my left foot above his stomach and watched his breathing, waiting for him to breathe out before I swiftly stepped up onto his stomach full weight with one foot. I smirked as he jolted underneath me, finally receiving what he had craved all week. I stayed in this position, one foot on top of the other, feeling the squishy sensation of his gut underneath me and watching him struggle. My goal was to touch the floor through his insides by the end of the night. We had several hours ahead of us.
I stepped off him and walked into the kitchen to open the fridge. He had done as I requested and bought some beer for me to drink. I opened a bottle and walked back towards him, taking a swig of the drink. He was much more tense now, knowing at any moment I could step back up onto him. We had agreed to do a softer session than normal. No jumping, no big stomps or kicks, just my socked feet and my weight, wherever I liked. I knew I could still torture him a bit with this, endurance trampling can be difficult especially if you stand in one place for long enough. With that thought I stepped back onto his stomach, both feet right on his gut, and contemplated my next move. I glanced at the clock, 7:00pm. The night was still early.
15 minutes had passed and I was still on his stomach. He could breathe, but it was a struggle. He couldn't see or hear me but he was certainly feeling me. I started to walk on the spot on his stomach, small steps in place, listening to him taking quick gulps of air when he could. It would take a while to wear out his resistance, he was strong, but it was a challenge I happily accepted. I changed position, turning towards his head, my toes and balls of the feet sinking into his gut right below the ribcage. My size 13s were longer than his torso and my heels were touching his semi hard dick. I was concentrating my weight on his stomach though, from time to time lifting my heels so all the weight was concentrated at the top of my feet. I started walking on the spot in this position too, it was a gentle stepping action but I made sure to push all the weight into his stomach with each step. Relentlessly stepping for longer than usual, making him wonder when it was going to stop. 7:33pm, I still hadn't moved from his stomach. I smirked to myself as I took another sip from the bottle.
I hop off his stomach onto the floor, not because I want to give him a break, but I decide to turn the TV on to have something to watch as I'm standing on him. I can tell it's a relief for him as he breathes in quickly and heavily. I grab the remote, and a new bottle from the fridge, and then I'm back up onto his body, this time one foot on his chest and one on his stomach. I stay in this position for some time, shifting the weight between my legs. Nothing interesting is on and my mind wanders as I flick through the channels trying to find something interesting to watch. I get engrossed in a show and nearly forget I was standing on him. 7:52pm. I look down to see him relatively at ease, time for something different.
I pick up the pace a little. I use bigger steps to push into him, at first on the chest and stomach but then I move around more. I can see his dick has gone soft and I step all over it as I'm walking up and down him. The headphones on his head mean I can't step on the side of his face, but I plant a sock over his face and start applying pressure. I shift the foot slightly to the side of his nose as I apply even more pressure, and then bring the other foot alongside it, full weight on his head. I reach my hand out to the wall for balance while standing there, and with my other hand I pull my phone out to check messages. I'm scrolling as one of his hands grasps at my ankles, but I don't get off. I know he's more into his stomach being trampled but he did say I could stand anywhere, so I'm doing something I want to do. I realise I hadn't thought about dinner, and I was starting to get a little hungry. It was probably time to get off his face but I open a food delivery app and take my time looking at options. I settle on pizza, it will be easy to eat while standing on him. Once it's all ordered I finally step off his face and back onto his chest. He groans, a sound of appreciation for the relief to his head, I imagine.
I turn around and march back down his body, before turning again and ending up where I started, on his stomach. My feet are sideways on his body and marching on the spot, pumping my legs up and down. I wonder if this is easier to handle than just standing still for a long amount of time. I watch his face as I'm marching on him. He manages to take quick gasps of breath as either foot is lifted, in time with the rhythmic pounding of my feet. I continue, working up a bit of a sweat, all the while stepping into his stomach repeatedly. 8:15pm. I stop, and stand still again, both feet on his stomach. I'm catching my breath, easily, from the exercise while I feel him underneath me shudder and struggle to catch his own breath. After 5 minutes of this I watch him again to compare his breathing. It does seem slightly harder for him when I'm not moving compared to when I'm moving. It's like he's got to lift me slightly to try and get a bit of air in each time, there is no mercy from my unforgiving weight stuck on top of him. Each breath I am slightly moving up and down with his stomach. I'm enjoying this little reminder that someone is stuck underneath my feet as I hear the doorbell ring with the food.
Obviously, he hasn't heard the doorbell or known that I've ordered food. He notices me get off him for a few minutes and step on him as I pass back over him, walking into the kitchen. He's oblivious to everything other than my weight on top of him, and wonders what I am doing next. I set the pizza up nearby on a chair and step back onto his stomach once more, grabbing a slice of pizza every now and then. I'm sure he can smell it. Perhaps his stomach is rumbling from a little bit of hunger underneath my weight, or maybe it's just trying to survive the pressure. 8:48pm, it's been nearly 2 hours of my weight on him and I can notice a difference underfoot now. I sink further into his gut, like his abs are giving in and can't hold me up any longer, and it feels good. I know he will be hurting more now. I bounce, trying to get deeper into his stomach. Just like his abs giving up, his whole body seems to be giving up as well. There is less of a struggle. It's like his body has accepted it's fate that it will be totally crushed under me so why try and resist anymore. I keep going, switching between the bouncing, stepping and staying still.
I can tell he is spent but I'm going to push him a bit further. I go back to trampling the rest of his body and this time I'm making sure I crush every inch of it. Slowly but surely, I march up and down him leaving no part of his body untouched. Not being constantly on his stomach seems to reinvigorate him and I can see from his pants he's enjoying the action. Up and down, crushing his face, standing on his neck, twisting on his nipples.. none of it with big impact, just a steady slow crushing feeling that he can't escape. Next time I should tie him up I think to myself. I focus on his crotch area and trample that with both feet, changing position as I march on the spot. Facing sideways, with both feet on his dick, I start to roll forwards and backwards, crushing down but causing a bit of friction. I keep doing this with the odd bounce here and there, and I notice his breathing start to change again. I can tell he's enjoying it, so I go a bit harder, stomping into his crotch forcefully and bouncing harder, until I hear the tell tale signs. 9:17pm, he has shot a load inside of his underwear and he's smiling, feeling content to finally have a release after all that pressure. I smile to myself knowing he thinks we are finished when we are not.
It's rare to find someone who can keep being trampled once they've cum. At least straight afterwards. Sometimes with a 10-15 minute break it is fine once they've recovered and ready to go again. I decided in that moment, seeing his satisfied smile, my final act would be another long session on his stomach. I step off his crotch and onto his stomach, both feet facing sideways again and I don't move, knowing full well this is harder to take. He groans heavily and is shaking his head. The smile is gone, replaced by what I imagine is dread, realising I am not finished and he has to continue. His euphoria is gone. I'm sinking into his gut once more and he is now barely whimpering, struggling to get enough air even for that. I watch the TV and I stay there for 30 mins, occasionally shifting the weight in my legs, but the whole time both of my feet are not lifting. Crushing. I rock back and forward on my toes and heels, feeling all his insides quite well by now. He doesn't groan anymore, he's totally given up, and just surviving as I have my way with him.
I would usually finish with a bang in our sessions, some big jumps or stomps.. something hard and heavy to finish on. This time I didn't. I had pushed him further than he had ever gone, and it wasn't even "rough". 9:58pm, I bounced a couple more times on his gut and stepped off, walking to the door, putting my shoes on and closing the door behind me. We agreed that he would know I have left when I hadn't trampled him for 15 minutes or so. I left him some pizza to eat but I knew his stomach would probably not be interested after all that torture.