Looking for a couple stories.

[DeathXI]

I once read i great story about a guy being used as a footrest in a movie theater by his girlfriend or friend, and then some girls came by and wanted to use him too and they did.


THe other one i'm looking for is "After School Special"

[groundview]

Hi again DeathXI,

I remember this story about the guy in the movie.

The author I do not know, but it was a good story, or was it a true event. I had to search my private archive for it.

Your in luck, I found it. So here it is.

[DeathXI]

so...groundview

is there any story you _DONT_ have?

Lol, Thanks! :)


Edit: spelling fix

[groundview]

Hi DeathXI,

is there any story you _DONT_ have?


A few stories I don’t have, but I've been collecting stories since there were just the beginnings of the Internet. Some from before that.

(Bulletin boards that you make individual phone calls to.)

So if I liked them I must have it somewhere. Tape, disk or CDR.
:)

PS. Case in point :beer: I found the other story you wanted.

[Miss_clinton]

Thank you for the re-post. If you have some more interesting stories..pl..do post them.


:D

[stableboy]

Hello, here are my five cents to this topic!

In this story a guy asks his girlfriend kisk his ass.
They agree a safeword, but an idea is that she writes it on note, and the guy pretends to read it. So he doesn't know the safeword when the beating starts. :D

Hopefully someone remembers the story, and posts it here. Unfortunately I don't remember author or title :(

Br

stableboy

[groundview]

Hi all,

I'm on a roll! :rasta: Yes stableboy I remember that story!
I'm searching my master save story doc file.
Keyword "safeword"

and here you go! Enjoy!! :thumbsup:

[stableboy]

hehehe, thanks groundview! :D
Great work!

-stableboy

[indian_slaveboy]

can u get me that story..

The seminar.. ???

[DeathXI]

Author: Ogilthorpe
new story- the seminar

I haven't posted here in ages--since the delphi days. I usually do GTS/shrinking man/foot collages and stories. I have been working on getting my webpage back up and getting permission from various websites to use their pics as backgrounds for collages. This story is kind of a hybrid of gts and trampling themes, as I am attempting to make a story that could be of interest to both groups, and as reflects my own interests. As in many stories of pure fantasy, a bit of patience is helpful, as the various characters map out the parameters of their world. This story will eventually feature men being stepped on who are about 4 feet tall (or 1 1/4 meter as in the story) and smaller

THE SEMINAR

The Place: a college town somewhere in North America

The Time: just a few decades after the GREAT CHANGE

Chapter 1- The Lecture

Driven by both pain and anxiety, Jeanie and Caitlyn ran down the passageway, deftly avoiding other students and occasional male workers, or the even smaller male pets. Their anxiety stemmed from the fact that they were late for their class, and on the very first day too. They had some reason to worry, as Dr. Burgess was known to be a stickler for punctuality.
The pain came from their feet, as they sprinted along on unfamiliar high heels, which the course prospectus had indicated were required equipment for the first day. Jeanie moaned out loud, wondering why they had not worn their flats, and changed into these heels when they arrived at the classroom.
As they turned a corner Caitlyn suddenly collided with a worker-sized male, stunning him and hurling his meter long form directly to the terrazzo floor. Being in such a rush, Caitlyn clattered on by the sprawled man. However a few steps later she noticed that Jeanie was not with her. She stopped and turned to see her ever-mischievous roommate standing over the little man. Jeanie was a very pretty girl, and not especially tall, yet the shiny new shoe she dangled playfully over the males upturned face appeared bigger than his entire head.
“Jeanie, stop that. We’re already late, and you know how we’ve been looking forward to this class. “
“But Cait, this one is a very bad boy. He got right in your way. You could have been hurt. And see, he doesn’t have a collar. He’s out in public without his owner. I think we should walk on him a little, and then turn him into the campus police. What do you say? It’s our duty, you know.”
Jeanie threw back her head, tossing the long blonde curls out of her face, and gave her friend a plaintive look.
“Oh, geez, Jeanie, we just don’t have the time. Besides, look at the uniform that he’s got on. He’s a custodian. That’s why the little dink doesn’t have a collar.
Still Jeanie tarried a moment. She rested her foot lightly on the man’s chest, all the time grinning at him in much the same way that predator’s have grinned at their prey since time began. At last she reluctantly exhaled, then propelled her supple body into action to catch up with Caitlyn, who was again loudly jogging down the long hallway. The 2 co-eds eventually arrived at an impressive, outsized oak door. On it was a small cardboard sign that Jeanie read out loud.
“Business Management 610-male control in the workplace, Dr. M. Burgess. Yep, this is the place.” They pushed through the door and made their way to the front of the lecture hall where a handful of young women were already seated. Jeanie was relieved to see that the presentation had not yet started.

Doctor Melanie Burgess peered over the top of her stylish glasses at the new students. She sat comfortably on the corner of her desk, contentedly resting on one elbow. She was a very striking woman of indeterminate age. A shock gleaming black hair, and a finely tailored blue blazer, contrasted against the pale unlined skin of her handsome face.
As her students fished out their notebooks and recorders, Melanie languidly raised her long nylon-covered leg and seemed to stare at the toe of her old brown high-heeled shoe. For a moment she allowed some fond reflection about those shoes. How many times had she taught this seminar with these same trusty, comfortable heels on her feet? They were her favorites, with the polished leather seasoned and lined from their years of service, and the thin soles stained from the soft wet bodies of a hundred little men? Soon she would have to replace those old shoes. The thought made her sad. It would be like losing two close friends.
Dr. Burgess’s musing was interrupted by the squeaky sound of turning wheels. She turned to see a large cart rolling up to toward the front of the room. On it were stacked several dozen small cages, each stamped with the certified logo of the DMC-Department Of Male Corrections. Each cage efficiently housed one frightened male prisoner, each having been reduced to the Departments official incarceration height of 10 cm. Melanie noticed her students looking with great interest as the cart passed. One athletic blonde acted particularly eager and excited. She was certain that it was one of the girls who had scampered in late. Very pretty young ladies, she had thought. But obviously, not used to running in high heels.
Pushing the cart was a rather large, yet attractive woman wearing a DMC uniform. She pushed and pulled at her portable lock-up, until it sat behind Melanie’s desk. She then leaned across the desk to speak to the professor.
“Well Doc, there ya go. I swear the little smudges get heavier every year. Think this will be enough for the week?”
“Hi Emmy. I’m afraid you’re just getting older girl. And this should be plenty. You know we only meet 3 times a week.”
“Yea, well, you forget that I’ve observed your classes before, and I know how fast you can go through the little buggers.”
Melanie laughed out loud. “ Yea, that’s true. I always believe that education should be fun, too. Any in this group really interesting?”
‘Well, they’re mostly the usual group of squishers-slackers and escapees mostly. There is one fella, number 87, that is kind of fun. We picked him up in one of our sweeps in the sewers. He must have been on his own for quite a while. He just can’t seem to keep his mouth shut. Oh, and there’s a special group on the back of the cart who are all clone-brothers. Believe it or not, they’re registered as genetically enhanced footboys. Seems they belonged to the Mayor’s daughter. They all escaped together, and she doesn’t even want them back. She’s replaced the whole lot already, and you know how much those things cost. Just goes to show how the other half lives. Anyway I thought you might be personally interested in that crew.”
“Hmmm, that does sound nice. I owe you a big one, Emmy. I certainly can’t afford, on my salary, to keep a boy in every shoe. You wouldn’t think it was a bribe if I saved a few of those footboys for you?”
Emmy beamed with glee. “Just what I was hoping you’d say, Doc. I sure can’t afford those enhanced models either. Well I’d better get back to work. Remember the loud one is number 87.
“Seeya Emmy, and thanks.”
Doctor Burgess stood and turned at last to face her students. “Hello. I’m Doctor Melanie Burgess, and it has been my pleasure to teach this graduate level seminar for several years. As you know, the emphasis of this course is on techniques of trampling. Now I know that you have all enjoyed walking on men, however I need to begin by pointing out how our work here may differ from what you are accustomed to.”
“Women trample for many reasons; as a ritual of supremacy, or an act of ownership, or even as a sport. But mostly, women are called to trample as a pure act of pleasure. The act of standing on a male is now so commonplace; that most of us take it for granted as one the most natural and simple joys of life. As such, we naturally focus on our own sense of touch. Few things match the warm skin-to-skin experience that happens when we sense a man lying passively beneath us. It is then natural that we often indulge our males, knowing that they sometimes experience as much happiness worshipping us as we feel in being worshipped.
But for our purposes today the priorities are quite different. We will learn to use trampling as an essential management tool in educating, in motivating, and in punishing the many men whose skills are still needed to make our young civilization work. In short, we are more concerned with the effect of our trampling on him, than the feeling it gives us. Now I am well aware that scientists tell us that it is psychologically unhealthy for a woman to step on a man and feel no pleasure at all. No, we shall still be aware of our own needs, but please remember that we will always be concerned first with what it does to him.

[DeathXI]

“This brings us to the question of footwear. I see you are all wearing simple high-heeled pumps, as specified in the required equipment list. And I also see that not all of you are comfortable wearing them.” Melanie looked rather pointedly at Caitlyn and Jeanie, who seemed as absorbed in rubbing their own sore feet, as in following the lecture. “Now, at home I wear Sandals, and sneakers like everyone else. But it is important to remember that heels are an integral part of management in the modern workplace. It saddens me that so many younger women no longer have a full appreciation of this wonderful tool.” Melanie now spoke more quickly, and with more emotion, as this was a subject very close to her.
“Look at this tough but flexible thin sole. It can mold the flesh of the most athletic worker to the shape of my shoe. Yet the veteran tramper gets sufficient “feel” through the sole to help her stay balanced on even the most squirmy and uncooperative man.”
“Then there is the classic shape of the sharp tapered heel. Even a very small worker can easily be persuaded to accept it deep into his throat. I have been told that choking on a high heel is among the most desperate and intense sensations that a man can experience. It is unfortunate that women managers so infrequently employ this powerful method in their work. Of course if sterner measures are called for, no male (genetically altered or not) can avoid being fatally impaled by one artfully delivered thrust.”
“The pointed toe can be equally useful. It can lead the way for a devastating kick, or delicately seek just the right spot for crushing. Those of you, who have had the frustrating experience of having tiny testicles slip out from under the ball of your foot, should appreciate the efficiency with which even a single testicle can be sought out and crushed. I can tell you from long experience that there is no better way of totally immobilizing an obstinate worker, short of killing him.”
“Now I know that in the past pumps were thought of as old fashioned, hot, and uncomfortable. However with newer designs and materials, and with the shoes properly sized, wearing high heels simply cannot lead to foot problems. Yes, enclosed shoes can be warm, but as most of us can now afford at least one pair of temperature controlled male insoles, we need not suffer even that small discomfort.”
As Melanie continued her lecture, she drew attention to her own feet. She lifted her foot towards her students and illustrated each point by displaying her own pump at just the right angle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw, with amusement, that on the cart, many smaller pairs of eyes were also staring intently at her shoes. Slowly she placed her shoe back on the floor and smoothly withdrew her stocking foot; while wriggling her long, graceful toes suggestively. She worried about the angle; perhaps the little men were missing this.
“Of course the absence of laces or other fasteners, allows you to easily remove your foot, even if you are still perched atop the object of your attention. This is quite helpful when the warmth and scent of your toes is needed to calm a panic-stricken subject or to control his breathing.”
“Let’s see. I have only one other point to mention, and then we can get on to today’s demonstration. Because of the potential for fatal consequences to the men, managerial trampling has often been associated with that vocal minority in our society that favors limiting the numbers of males, or even eliminating them entirely. Nothing could be further from the truth. While I can’t speak for all the women in my profession, I can certainly speak for myself. I like men. I like them a lot! In fact many of the happiest moments in my life have come while teasing, playing with or otherwise using the lesser half of our species. Men are an important part of our lives. I am also convinced that it is very wrong to kill men simply on a whim. Men do have value. It is true that the government has been generous in supplying me with prisoners. They now have little worth except as teaching aids. Frankly, all of you will kill some men during this semester, either accidentally or otherwise. But even the dregs of male hood that you see on the cart behind me, still have the ability to kindle in us that special feeling. If any of you has her doubts about that, then I would ask you to do this. Go home tonight and stand in your stocking feet on your personal servant, or some other male in your household. Then ask yourself this question. Could you enjoy this same feeling by dominating any other creature on the world? And if you stood on your cat, or dog, or hamster, would they look up at you with the same devotion that your boy offers you. I think not. No woman would wish to return to the barbarism of 2-meter tall testosterone spewing volcanoes wreaking havoc with the earth. And hardly any woman would want to go back to reproducing like lower animals, skewered on the brutal phallus of a violent self-centered beast. Still, if there were no men in the world, it would be a very boring place to live. Men after all, are humans too.”
‘Well, I think I will now come down off my soapbox. In a moment I will select a volunteer from the cart. I will expand him up to a full meter and a quarter in height, and then we can get on with the more interesting parts of my course. So, any questions?”
“Doctor Burgess?”
“Yes”
“ You said he would be a meter and a quarter? Did I hear you correctly? I thought by law that no male could be taller than a meter.”
“You’re certainly correct. However our department has a special license, which allows for creating such large males. You see; we have discovered that when teaching women not experienced at trampling with sharp spikes, the chances of the man’s survival are much greater if he is very large. We really want some of them to survive. After all, it would hardly be fair to every other department in the university if our little seminar used up all the available male prisoners each and every semester.”
By this time, Melanie was quite ready for that portion of her seminar that focused on action, and not just talking. She approached the cart and quickly found cubicle 87. She pulled the little man out and smiling, dangled the squirming “volunteer” from her fingers. She then gently deposited him on the floor. Melanie aimed the sizing gun at the frightened little man. He was bathed in luminescence and suddenly there was a man before them, one and one-quarter meters in height. There were several sincere gasps from the class as none of these young women had ever seen a man so huge. It was almost frightening to them. If the gaunt bearded man kneeling on the floor knew that he was scary, he certainly didn’t show it. While her subject adjusted to the sudden size change, Melanie moved quickly to bind his arms. A slender belt extended around his waist, with his forearms firmly attached to the belt by means of small leather cuffs. He could perhaps walk, but could move his arms only a few inches away from his body. As her students marveled at her confident moves, Melanie finished her task and returned to her desk. Sitting once more comfortably, she extended her foot toward him. He looked back at her with a gaze full of both sadness and hope.
“Boy,” she called out sternly, “Come here now!”

END CHAPTER 1

[DeathXI]

due to posting limits, i'm just gonna link the rest.

http://www.mistressdestiny.com/forums/showthread.php?s=&threadid=3518&highlight=The+Seminar

http://www.mistressdestiny.com/forums/showthread.php?s=&threadid=4125&highlight=The+Seminar

http://www.mistressdestiny.com/forums/showthread.php?s=&threadid=5107&highlight=The+Seminar