I’m a Doormat! Wait, Maybe I’m a Rug…

This past weekend, T and I were at an event we really enjoy in a neighboring city.  I’ve been going to this event for roughly six years, and it’s definitely one of my favorites.  Each year, our caravan from Pittsburgh to this event seems to grow larger.

When we got there, T said she thought the room looked familiar.  She was right: We’d stayed in this same room before.  I realized that when I saw this-

cope wall

There were about a dozen of these little paw prints in the wall, and I remember talking with her about them when we last stayed in that room.  I really wanted to call the front desk and tell them we had an infestation of gravity-defying raccoons.

I ended up playing three times over the weekend.  Once with T, once with a friend from Pittsburgh, and once with someone I’d never met prior.  The latter posted before the event that she was looking to do some trampling.  I messaged her and we tentatively set it up.  My experience with trampling had been minimal, with just a little here and there thrown in as part of other scenes.  But this would be my first full-on trampling scene.  It wasn’t a huge, burning curiosity of mine, but more of a back-burner type curiosity.

After meeting face-to-face and negotiating the scene, we agreed to play on the second night of the event.

We met up on the second night and headed into the dungeon.  Her requirements for a play area were outrageous- She wanted a flat surface and something to hang on to.  Such extravagant rarities.  I stripped, and she had me lay on my back next to a sturdy bondage table.  After slipping off her shoes, she put one foot on top of my abdomen and slowly started adding weight.  Then came the other foot.  Her weight on top of me was restricting when it came to breathing, but it definitely wasn’t too much.  Monitoring me the whole time, she slowly kneaded my flesh with her feet and stepped across all parts of my body. The point of view was terrific.  She towered over top of me, looking about fifteen feet tall.  Being a foot fetishist also added some appeal for me.  She’s occasionally flash a big smile, and that helped my headspace a lot as well.  It gets me further into the scene when I know the top is really getting into whatever we’re doing.

After what was probably about five minutes, she put one foot on my throat and started to press down.  Right when my body hit that “ok, that’s enough” point, she went just a little further and held it there for a few seconds.  She was able to read my reactions very accurately considering we’d never played before.  Breath play and choking are very hot to me, and this was just one more way of doing that.  (T had choked me like that a couple times before as well; it’s always a sexiful time.)  Her weight remained constant on my body throughout.  Mentally, it had a bondage-ish feeling to it.  I couldn’t just sit up to lift her off of me.

Then she stepped off of me.  After putting on a pair of heels, she eased back on to my chest.  That was much more intense.  Her weight was concentrated over a smaller surface area with the shoes on.  The heels dug into my flesh as she continued to step all over me.  She left me with some great souvenirs:

trampling1 trampling2

Afterward, she checked in on me and we stayed there talking for a few minutes.  At that point I realized I had gotten a bit floaty, which I wasn’t expecting.  It’s a happy surprise.  She asked me which I preferred- barefoot or with heels.  I answered barefoot.  It just seemed more connected somehow, and the warmth of her feet added to that feeling.  She mentioned that she also felt more tactile feedback from me barefoot.

I enjoy moving things from my “curious about” list to my “into” list.  This was no exception.  I’d like to experience this again.  It’s not moving to the top of my interests anytime soon, but it’s one more thing for the arsenal.  Having a large variety of types of play to draw from keeps things fresh.  It also helps to prevent “dungeon monotony”- walking through a playspace and seeing people doing mostly the same type of play everywhere you look.  Trampling is one more arrow in the quiver of pervitude.

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