Unknowing Crush and Trample

Unknowing Crush and Trample 

by Footpath

All too often I played under the bleachers in high school. I frequently put my finger under the high heels of many, many young girls and women standing up on the bleachers. Without exception, the crushing was with such force that I still today have several scars on my hands and fingers and partial numbness on the side of my right pinkie for about a two months afterwards. The thing

that was so exciting was that as several girls leaned back on my finger with their spikes, they had no idea what she was stepping on. In the back of her mind, she may have thought that her stance wasn't quite right, but that was to be expected since there was a lot of stuff like paper cups wooden drink

stirrers on the board. One big, athletic girl with very long auburn hair, stood squarely on my finger for what seemed an eternity, but actually only about two minutes. She then shifted her standing position another area to get a better view of the game. During those two minutes, I looked up at her

well-formed muscular legs as she was crushing my finger. The sensuous pain was making my eye water. My face was about 3 inches from her shoes as she was just standing there, her wiggling weight focused on my poor little victim finger. I could smell the sensual scent of leather and close feet around. I could hear and feel the straining and creaking of the shoe as her weight

force was transferred from her foot through her shoe to my finger. My fingerwas crushed flat in one small circular area as I pulled it out from under hernow slightly raised heel. It was a little flatter on one side than the other,because when she came down on it, the heel wasn't quite centered on myfinger.  At first the flat spot was white, then it slowly turned red thenlater a light shade of purple. The finger went from a numb feeling to a warmpulsing sensation. The heel may have slipped a little as the weight wasinstantly applied. I swear I thought I could judge the amount of weight Icould take. Apparently, with the woman not knowing she is stepping onanything unusual, there would be no need to be careful or gentle. That greatly adds to the erotic feeling.

I'm middle aged now, but as I grew older, and still an avid crush lover for 30 or 40 years, I've expanded my need for good, serious crushings. I've owned several houses. A few had finished basements. One in particular had a wet bar, TV, a pool table, two sofas, and several chairs and was well suited for what was planned. My girlfriend, thinking we would marry, would do any thing for me. I asked her for her help in coming up with a plan to satisfy (at least for a while) my multiple woman crush fantasy. She said, "OK but what can I do?" I paused and said  "Throw a party in three weeks for all of your girl friends, with free food and drinks and secret gifts. I'll pay for everything." I told her that I was going to build a "false floor" at the base of the stairs down to the basement. My mind was racing with the thought of being under several attractive, sexy women in flowing dresses and high heels.

I finished the floor a week early. It consisted of a standard 4'x8' piece of 5/8" plywood built up off the concrete floor about 14" at the last 2 steps of the stairs. I got under to try it out. I even had a small pillow for my head to rest on. I drilled a  2" dia. hole in the board where my head would be and installed a piece of tinted plastic across it. A light throw rug was placed across the platform with a worn spot in the rug was placed over the 2" hole. 

I was confident that the plywood would be strong enough to support what I thought would be about 6 or 8 women at any one time. My body is fairly strong and should easily support their weight as three or four stood on it. 

My girlfriend tried it out as I lay under it. It was no problem at all with her. She is only 142 lbs. and I could maintain normal breathing without any problems. Saturday afternoon arrived and she told me to assume the position. She said that she had invited 25 women friends. If they all showed up at once, I knew I would be in for an exciting afternoon. Around 3:00PM, the first couple of ladies arrived and said their boyfriends may be coming later. (I hope NOT!) My girlfriend asked if her friend could continue answering the door for her while she entertained the people already there. As her friend went to the living room to continue answering the door, my girlfriend took the guests down stairs. The approaching sound of steps was very exciting. I quickly learned just when to expect the transfer of weight from the stairs to the false floor...and me. The music was playing and soft lights were on. The clump of six approaching heels filled my ears with anticipation as one girl then the other stepped from the stairs to the false floor. The floor started to bend a little as the combined weight of four women (about 360 lbs.) crushed down on my chest. Their individual movements could be felt as the board (and my body) yielded to the demand of their muscles and weight. They only stopped there long enough to step down to the actual floor of the basement. I did bounce a little because of the spring of the wood and the resilience of my body. About 15 minutes passed as they talked, having a good time. Then six more women arrived at the same time and clomped down the stairs. They all got to the bottom of the stairs and stepped one by one on the board. I think that all six women (about 700 lbs.) were standing there together because it became a little difficult to breathe. I just took a deep breath and held it, letting a little out at a time. All of a sudden one of the first girls that had arrived early recognized one of the recent arrivals. She came running over and jumped up on the board as the other girl started jumping with joy. I looked up at all of the legs and shoes as seven women (now collectively estimated at about 820 lbs.) were standing and jumping on my body. The best part is knowing that they were not aware that they were slowly crushing me. I almost banged on the board to get them off because I was about out of breath and the air was being forced out of me in pulses at every bounce. Finally my girlfriend said, "come on in and sit down." That

saved my life. I tried to recuperate and regain my composure. Twelve more women arrived as the evening went on. I was stepped on constantly as they went up and down stairs to use the bathroom. I was  sometimes caught by surprise when several women stepped on my "bugs eye view of the crush" hole

in the board. Sometimes my view turned all dark as the sole of a shoe was pressing down hard over the hole. Several times a small heel found its mark directly on the hole directly over my eye. Imagine if that were directly on my eye! That was scary but sooo cool. I could clearly see the material at the end of the heel compress just a little and spread very slightly as it yielded to the focused pressure of the owner's body weight. Sometimes the heel tip would distort a little as the woman's weight was shifted to the back or side,

stressing the heel and the plastic over my eye. Beyond that was the awesome view of the rest of the heel the lady's ankle and up the well formed muscular legs. After all gifts were opened and drinks gone, my girlfriend informed them that she would spring for the tab at the local cafe. It was my money, and that made it exciting too. As they all started to get up to go, my girlfriend ran ahead to get to the stairs first. As she stepped on the board, she twisted the heel of her shoe over my peephole so as to crush me like a bug. She had gotten a wild idea on how to give me the ultimate crushing of anyone's imagination. She stopped on the 4th step, turned around and looked back at the crowd gathering on the board. My breath was already being held as hard as I could. She said she wanted to announce a surprise and to get as close as possible because she couldn't yell over the music. 

"Let's all go over to Adam's Place, the drinks are on me," she said. Adam's Place is a small night club about a mile South of the house. They have several good strippers, both male and female. The drinks are  moderately priced and the food is good. There must have been all 24 woman (estimated at 2,800 lbs.) or at least 22 (estimated at 2,600 lbs.) that fit on that board as my girlfriend spoke. The board was creaking and bending something awful. My nose was flat to my face and I could feel every tiny body movement above me. I felt like several of my organs were going to explode and blow out through my skin. My flesh was

constantly shifting and squishing with the live weight pressure above. I couldn't hold my breath any longer as the live, moving weight kept its steady unrelenting pressure. I could see up a couple of dresses as they stood there over me. It was amazing to see so many attractive women standing over me and talking, especially as they fidgeted. Apparently some of the women were holding their urine too long and were now becoming desperate. I know this for sure because one girl was pressing her finger tightly against her pee hole. 

As she moved, her spinchter muscle involuntarily pulsed and released a squirt, some of which landed directly on my peephole! I could almost taste it. I want sooo much to drink her body dry. Probably several others were just anxious to go onto the club and still others were thrusting and swaying with the rhythm of the music. This was murder on me; my remaining air came rushing out. As it did, the board sagged more and more. My only saving grace was that the tremendous weight was distributed by the size of the plywood.

Unfortunately, I couldn't enjoy it much as I would have liked because of the difficulty in breathing. They had been there about a minute when my girlfriend finished. They filed off and up the stairs one by one. My

breathing deepened and blood finally started flowing again. When the last two or three were left standing on the board, I could finally suck a breath into my burning lungs. When they all left I pulled myself out feeling like a crushed bug. I closely examined the top of the board. There were hundreds of spike heel dents, chips and splinters from the tips of some of the worn heel tips. It was a good thing it wasn't my body being crushed DIRECTLY by those heels. Or was it? I would have scars lasting for years! MMM Heaven! Ain't

life great? 

My name (nickname) is Footpath. I live in Southern New England in the U.S.A.

This story was taken off the net. I am the author of this story and several others with the Footpath signature.

Kindly give me the credit (recognition) for being the writer.

Thanks Footpath

End of  this great Story ...more follows