Lone Stranger
01-14-2003, 5:23 PM
Support 11
After the close call with Caroline we decided that something had to be done. It was just too risky to not have some way to hide me if the need arose. Of course, it was up to me to devise a way. So I came up with a new idea.
I obtained a piece of heavy-duty nylon cloth with a printed pattern to match the rug border I had made for my floor pit. This cloth was just heavy enough that I couldn't see through it, but not so heavy as to blunt the impact of a pair of sharp heels skewering my flesh. I put snaps all along the edge of the cloth and a matching set on the edge of the urethane mold that had become my home. The cloth covering could be snapped in place in a minute or so and when in place was stretched tightly from side to side so that it laid without wrinkles on top of my flattened body beneath. With the cloth in place, no one could tell there was a person concealed beneath. The girls tested it many times by covering me up and then inviting some unsuspecting customer behind the counter to let her walk all over me without ever knowing I was there. It got to be a kind of game for them.
One thing they did notice is that when you can't see it, my neck tended to be a bit of a trip hazard several times one of their test women stepped directly on my neck on kicked me in the chin and stumbled some. They usually caught their balance by stomping hard on my face. Then the usual procedure was to stomp around some more and comment about the soft spot on the rug. Actually this also happened several times before; even if I wasn't covered. Sometimes if someone wasn't paying attention to where they were stepping, (which was happening more and more often) they would think their foot was going to land on my chest or face and instead step down onto my neck instead. This would cause them to lose their balance, which usually resulted in: first a hard step on my throat as they landed there off balance, and then an even harder stomp on my face to help them recover their balance. Then, as often as not, I would get another stomp to my face as a punishment for almost tripping them.
I remember one day when Sally tried to spin around and step back from my chest and stepped back on my throat and lost her balance. She fell straight down, her skirt flew up and her pantyhose covered ass landed hard right on my face! I could see it coming, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn't move. I couldn't throw up my hands. Nothing. I just had to lie there and take it. Her ass landed with all her weight full force... right on my face. I thought my whole head would explode as it sunk deep into the urethane mold. Then if that wasn't enough, she just sat there.
At first she just wriggled about a little. I guess she was checking herself out and what have you, but then after a while she just started laughing. I guess my face blocked her fall. But then she just continued to sit on my face! I could smell her ass, but breathing was very difficult. I don't think it occurred to her that she was sitting right on someone's face. To her, she was just sitting on the rug and laughing about her fall and not in any hurry to get up.
After a while she finally made an effort to get up and then slipped and fell back down again. This crash wasn't as hard, but was still taken full force right on my helpless face. I managed to get a little breath, which was good because now the laughing fit started again and, while she wriggled around some, she remained seated on my face till her laughter died down. You'd think she would be self conscious about sitting with her pantyhose covered butt on someone's face, but it didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. As for me, it was getting very hot. The pantyhose were very sheer and I could smell the sweat in her crack and her ass smell and air was getting damn scarce. Finally another attempt at getting up was successful and her hot sweaty ass was removed from my face and fresh air flooded in. For my trouble I got a stomp on the face and then she twisted on it with her full weight and walked off.
To help with this problem, I fashioned a bridge out of urethane to fit over my neck area. It was flat on the upper surface and the lower side had a U-shaped area cut out to fit over my neck. This made the area between my chin and my chest completely smooth. I could still feel the pressure if someone stepped on my neck, but they couldn't tell the difference between my face, my neck, or my chest... it was just one flat surface. This could create somewhat of a problem for me, especially if someone stood for a long time right on my throat and slowly choked the life out of me. The woman was generally completely unaware that there was any problem as I slowly choked beneath her. The good thing was I could no longer feel the stabbing pain of a high heel digging into my neck threatening to pierce my throat (although all the pressure was still there). But now, more than ever, I became just one flat surface to walk on. The women treated me more and more like just a rug to walk on and less and less like a person. Even, Carol, my wife seemed to forget about me completely when we were at work. She would stand on my face for hours and never think twice about it.
While I understood the necessity of the covering cloth, I didn't like it very much and resisted being covered whenever I could. When covered, all of my senses except pain were denied. I couldn't see anything. No occasional view up a shapely pair of legs to the inviting crotch above. Not even the sight of a foot about to land on me. Uncovered, when I saw a foot about to step on me, I could tense a little in anticipation of the crushing blow, but covered, I frequently never knew I was about to get stepped on until a foot suddenly crashed into my face or smashed into my balls unannounced. On busy days many times there were enough distracting noises that I never heard anyone approach. Or maybe I could hear someone standing and walking very near me, but never knew at what minute they would move over a little further and step on me.
Maybe the worst part was you never knew who was on you. Oh, I knew the regular girls all right from their weight and the way they walked around and moved their feet and etc. It is strange to think that you can know who someone is just by the way they step on your face, but that's the way I had become. Sally was the easiest to identify, she never stood still for 2 seconds she was always moving around and hopping. And Ginger, ever fond of the spikiest of heels always seemed to be swaying to some unheard beat and she was always twisting this way and that. Betty would stand stock still for a while and then start shifting weight from one foot to the next to rest her tired feet. Betty would also frequently kick her shoes off and rub her tired feet in my face, covered or not covered, just like she was scratching an itch. And Carol, my wife, sometimes she would just stand still; first on one foot and then the other. At other times, when she was busy, she would walk all over me. Constantly moving, twisting, stooping, moving, stepping with no thought at all to who she was walking on.
Of course another thing Carol liked to do was step down on my hard cock and roll her foot back and forth; sometimes with her shoes on and sometimes in her stocking feet. She said it was like rolling one of those Chinese massage things under her foot. Without fail I would always explode in my pants after a little while of this treatment. Of course that wasn't always her intent; many times she was just massaging her foot.
This was a favorite of the other girls as well. They liked the power of knowing they could make me explode so. They sometimes made a game of it just to watch me pop. This was the only time they noticed me as a person. Or rather this and when they were having me suck their tired feet and dirty nylons and using my mouth for a footbath. Although sometimes even this activity was carried out with such abandon that it was as though they were just using some sort of foot licking machine.
But I'm getting away from my story. As I said, except for the regular girls, when covered I couldn't tell who or what was walking on me. All I could do was feel. Some were heavy and some were not as heavy. Some wore pointy spike heels and some wore more chunky heels and some even flats. One day some lady stood right on my nose with a pair of wedge shaped heels that were thin, but long like the runner of a pair of ice skates. I thought she would push my nose right into my face with those. Some women stepped lightly and some plowed in with their heel first taking all the weight and then roll onto the sole of their shoe. I never knew what to expect and many times when to expect it. There was no way to prepare or brace myself.
....To be continued.
After the close call with Caroline we decided that something had to be done. It was just too risky to not have some way to hide me if the need arose. Of course, it was up to me to devise a way. So I came up with a new idea.
I obtained a piece of heavy-duty nylon cloth with a printed pattern to match the rug border I had made for my floor pit. This cloth was just heavy enough that I couldn't see through it, but not so heavy as to blunt the impact of a pair of sharp heels skewering my flesh. I put snaps all along the edge of the cloth and a matching set on the edge of the urethane mold that had become my home. The cloth covering could be snapped in place in a minute or so and when in place was stretched tightly from side to side so that it laid without wrinkles on top of my flattened body beneath. With the cloth in place, no one could tell there was a person concealed beneath. The girls tested it many times by covering me up and then inviting some unsuspecting customer behind the counter to let her walk all over me without ever knowing I was there. It got to be a kind of game for them.
One thing they did notice is that when you can't see it, my neck tended to be a bit of a trip hazard several times one of their test women stepped directly on my neck on kicked me in the chin and stumbled some. They usually caught their balance by stomping hard on my face. Then the usual procedure was to stomp around some more and comment about the soft spot on the rug. Actually this also happened several times before; even if I wasn't covered. Sometimes if someone wasn't paying attention to where they were stepping, (which was happening more and more often) they would think their foot was going to land on my chest or face and instead step down onto my neck instead. This would cause them to lose their balance, which usually resulted in: first a hard step on my throat as they landed there off balance, and then an even harder stomp on my face to help them recover their balance. Then, as often as not, I would get another stomp to my face as a punishment for almost tripping them.
I remember one day when Sally tried to spin around and step back from my chest and stepped back on my throat and lost her balance. She fell straight down, her skirt flew up and her pantyhose covered ass landed hard right on my face! I could see it coming, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn't move. I couldn't throw up my hands. Nothing. I just had to lie there and take it. Her ass landed with all her weight full force... right on my face. I thought my whole head would explode as it sunk deep into the urethane mold. Then if that wasn't enough, she just sat there.
At first she just wriggled about a little. I guess she was checking herself out and what have you, but then after a while she just started laughing. I guess my face blocked her fall. But then she just continued to sit on my face! I could smell her ass, but breathing was very difficult. I don't think it occurred to her that she was sitting right on someone's face. To her, she was just sitting on the rug and laughing about her fall and not in any hurry to get up.
After a while she finally made an effort to get up and then slipped and fell back down again. This crash wasn't as hard, but was still taken full force right on my helpless face. I managed to get a little breath, which was good because now the laughing fit started again and, while she wriggled around some, she remained seated on my face till her laughter died down. You'd think she would be self conscious about sitting with her pantyhose covered butt on someone's face, but it didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. As for me, it was getting very hot. The pantyhose were very sheer and I could smell the sweat in her crack and her ass smell and air was getting damn scarce. Finally another attempt at getting up was successful and her hot sweaty ass was removed from my face and fresh air flooded in. For my trouble I got a stomp on the face and then she twisted on it with her full weight and walked off.
To help with this problem, I fashioned a bridge out of urethane to fit over my neck area. It was flat on the upper surface and the lower side had a U-shaped area cut out to fit over my neck. This made the area between my chin and my chest completely smooth. I could still feel the pressure if someone stepped on my neck, but they couldn't tell the difference between my face, my neck, or my chest... it was just one flat surface. This could create somewhat of a problem for me, especially if someone stood for a long time right on my throat and slowly choked the life out of me. The woman was generally completely unaware that there was any problem as I slowly choked beneath her. The good thing was I could no longer feel the stabbing pain of a high heel digging into my neck threatening to pierce my throat (although all the pressure was still there). But now, more than ever, I became just one flat surface to walk on. The women treated me more and more like just a rug to walk on and less and less like a person. Even, Carol, my wife seemed to forget about me completely when we were at work. She would stand on my face for hours and never think twice about it.
While I understood the necessity of the covering cloth, I didn't like it very much and resisted being covered whenever I could. When covered, all of my senses except pain were denied. I couldn't see anything. No occasional view up a shapely pair of legs to the inviting crotch above. Not even the sight of a foot about to land on me. Uncovered, when I saw a foot about to step on me, I could tense a little in anticipation of the crushing blow, but covered, I frequently never knew I was about to get stepped on until a foot suddenly crashed into my face or smashed into my balls unannounced. On busy days many times there were enough distracting noises that I never heard anyone approach. Or maybe I could hear someone standing and walking very near me, but never knew at what minute they would move over a little further and step on me.
Maybe the worst part was you never knew who was on you. Oh, I knew the regular girls all right from their weight and the way they walked around and moved their feet and etc. It is strange to think that you can know who someone is just by the way they step on your face, but that's the way I had become. Sally was the easiest to identify, she never stood still for 2 seconds she was always moving around and hopping. And Ginger, ever fond of the spikiest of heels always seemed to be swaying to some unheard beat and she was always twisting this way and that. Betty would stand stock still for a while and then start shifting weight from one foot to the next to rest her tired feet. Betty would also frequently kick her shoes off and rub her tired feet in my face, covered or not covered, just like she was scratching an itch. And Carol, my wife, sometimes she would just stand still; first on one foot and then the other. At other times, when she was busy, she would walk all over me. Constantly moving, twisting, stooping, moving, stepping with no thought at all to who she was walking on.
Of course another thing Carol liked to do was step down on my hard cock and roll her foot back and forth; sometimes with her shoes on and sometimes in her stocking feet. She said it was like rolling one of those Chinese massage things under her foot. Without fail I would always explode in my pants after a little while of this treatment. Of course that wasn't always her intent; many times she was just massaging her foot.
This was a favorite of the other girls as well. They liked the power of knowing they could make me explode so. They sometimes made a game of it just to watch me pop. This was the only time they noticed me as a person. Or rather this and when they were having me suck their tired feet and dirty nylons and using my mouth for a footbath. Although sometimes even this activity was carried out with such abandon that it was as though they were just using some sort of foot licking machine.
But I'm getting away from my story. As I said, except for the regular girls, when covered I couldn't tell who or what was walking on me. All I could do was feel. Some were heavy and some were not as heavy. Some wore pointy spike heels and some wore more chunky heels and some even flats. One day some lady stood right on my nose with a pair of wedge shaped heels that were thin, but long like the runner of a pair of ice skates. I thought she would push my nose right into my face with those. Some women stepped lightly and some plowed in with their heel first taking all the weight and then roll onto the sole of their shoe. I never knew what to expect and many times when to expect it. There was no way to prepare or brace myself.
....To be continued.