The DJ Booth story

Updated: Sep 4

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!


***


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 is wearing as I follow him to the booth. “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 look down at his feet and see 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 comes 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 stands up, puts his headphones on, laughs and steps back up onto me - and with that the music starts and the night begins. 


The first hour isn't too bad. Not many people are here, the club is quiet. The DJ has been on me the whole time, shifting his weight every now and then.. tapping his feet to the music. Whoever is here won't be able to see me as the booth is closed off to the dancefloor. Dane appears at one point, talking to the DJ. I can't hear what they're saying over the music. Without looking down Dane steps up onto my crotch, one foot on my thighs one on my dick. The extra weight is intense but I'm taking it well and I find myself wondering what they both weigh. Dane is a little heavier, closer to 90kg while the DJ I believe to be around 80kg. Dane disappears and leaves me with the DJ still on my chest and stomach. He needs something to his right and takes a step, planting one foot on my face. I wasn't prepared for this and I can tell straight away it's not a good position for him with balance. I briefly wonder if he meant to stand on my face or not - just as I have this thought, his sneaker stomps my head to the side and I feel what must be his full weight come down on my head. Now he has better balance and he stays there for a minute or two before stepping back onto my chest. Dane reappears shortly afterwards with a drink for him, and I catch them both looking down at me - they're talking about me but I can't quite make it out. What I don't realise is that the DJ has just told Dane about standing on my head. The next thing I know, 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 comes on and I feel his right boot join the left on my head. The DJ starts to bounce a little more as the music seems to get louder. Dane is still on my head and it feels like it's about to burst from the pressure. I start to panic thinking no one will hear me from down here and there's no way I can shift them off me. Luckily Dane hops off, and heads back to the bar shortly afterwards. 


As the night goes on my body starts to hurt. I am used to around 2 hours of trample in a session so this is going to be much longer than my normal. I can't see the crowd but the club sounds very busy and the music is really full on now. The DJ has been bouncing and shifting all over me, a few times even jumping on my stomach to the music. There is a bathroom to the back of us and he sets his headphones down to go and piss. I consider making a run for it.. but I want to see this out and see what happens. I decide to roll over so I'm on my front and he can trample my back. This should make me last longer. I doubt he even notices as he comes back and jumps on to me. Now on my back I can't see anyone who comes into the booth. They all know I'm there, and stand on me too. I can feel when Dane is there as the treads from his boots are very distinctive. There is a 3rd guy in some sort of sneakers who spends time next to the DJ on me. He is more active on me, stomping and jumping in time to the music, probably drunk or high. The crowd must be looking up at these two guys and dancing to the music, not in the slightest bit aware they are jumping and stomping all over a person on the floor beneath them. As I think this to myself I get a rush of excitement.. this is exactly where I belong. 


Now I have no idea what time it is, my back is getting very sore from being jumped all over and stomped. When I get another opportunity to roll over I take it, going on to my back and looking up. The DJ must be in the bathroom but the 3rd guy is there and sees me roll over. I can tell he has taken something as he looks a bit wired. He seems to be processing that it's ok to trample my front.. he shrugs and steps onto my stomach and bounces. Then he's back into the music and it's as if I'm not even there - bouncing, a few jumps and stomps all over my front. The DJ returns and resumes his place on my chest, this time one foot on my head again. I see it coming and turn my head to the side just in time. The music is hard and heavy and he is using that beat to really drive his sneakers into me hard. Even on my head, the stomps are so hard I am starting to see stars. I eventually can't take it anymore and my hands come up and grab onto his leg. He is not happy about this, stepping off me and kicking me really hard in the arm a few times. He stomps my head, then hops back onto my stomach and chest. The final hour is a blur, different people coming into the booth and standing all over my body. 


My body feels numb and I'm almost at the point of passing out. Suddenly the lights come on, the club is starting to close and people must be leaving. The DJ continues to play music as the last people are herded out, and eventually hops off me and looks down to survey his damage. I can't move. He extends a hand to me and smiles, helping me up by seemingly peeling me off the floor. He hands me a drink of water, and I gulp it down. "You handled that very well, I'm impressed. How are you feeling?". I tell him it was my most intense trampling session ever, and that I will be very bruised and sore for a week or so. He laughs and pushes me out of the booth. "Go home. We will do this again sometime". I smile nervously, and head towards the door. He didn't even ask me if I wanted to do it again. Does that mean I don't have a choice? I get to my car and look at myself in the rear view mirror. I can see marks all over my face and head. I look down to see my shirt ruined with dirty prints, and lifting my shirt my skin is all red and bruised. This is going to be a long recovery, but a session I will remember for the rest of my life. 

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