Trampled by Brian

My first male on male trample came at an early age. I was the scrawny, smaller kid in school. Brian was the big kid at nearly double my weight, the fat one that a lot of the other kids picked on. He lived next door to me, but we didn’t play together all the time because he could get bossy and demanding if he didn’t get his way in whatever game we were playing. Sometimes we fought, as kids do, and sometimes we were best of friends. One time after we’d been fighting for a few days, I decided to try something new. I’d seen Brian barefoot. His feet were HUGE to me and lately I couldn’t stop thinking about being trampled flat underneath them. My dad had set up a large 10 man tent in my backyard for me and my siblings to play in, so I invited Brian over to play in the tent one afternoon after school. He was still kind of mad at me from our fights a few days before, but he agreed to come over. When he got into my backyard he was blown away by the tent. I’d gathered up some old crates and various things around my garage and made him a “throne” in the tent towards the back. He was grinning from ear to ear as he walked over and sat down. He loved the huge tent and while he was looking around I told him we could play “castle”. Of course, he’d be the king and I’d be the slave.
He liked that idea.

“And MY place is here,” I said as I walked over to him. He watched me closely as I walked over, laid down on the tent floor in front of him, lifted his two big bare feet up and placed them down on my belly and chest.
“I’ll be your slave, get your drinks, get your food, whatever you wish,” I told him. He just sat there, wide eyed and smiling, pushing his feet into my tummy as he looked down on me. I grunted a little as he dug his heel into my stomach and continued. “If I disobey you, you can punish me too.” He liked that idea. Brian was the type of kid who LIKED to hurt people. I’d seen his sadistic streak as he picked on smaller kids. “How do I punish you??” he asked as he leaned forward. His bare feet pressed harder into me as he shifted his weight I could tell he was hoping for something good, like a punch or slap.
I had other plans. My family owned a BIG dog and he had an old doghouse in the corner of our backyard. It was rugged with a dirt floor, and big enough for Brian to almost stand up in.

“You’ll take me to the doghouse and throw me on the dirt floor…” I started. His eyes grew wide. He was already liking this. “Next, you’ll stomp a foot into my stomach and hold me down on the floor like that. You’ll ask me if I’ll obey, and if I don’t, stomp me again and push more weight onto me over and over until I obey like your slave again.” He LOVED the idea. So did I. We played there in the tent for about an hour, me being the loyal footrest, foot massager, etc and obeying his every word. He liked putting his feet on me pushing into my stomach and showing me he was in control. Then he asked for a soda. I told him NO. He stopped talking, leaned forward, pushing his feet deep into my belly and said “WHAT??”. I repeated myself… NO.

He stepped onto my stomach as he got off of the throne, walked over me, grabbed me by the arm and almost DRAGGED me out of the tent, across the backyard and over to the doghouse. He roughly threw me onto the dirt floor and I laid on my back next to a wall. He walked over and stomped me right in the belly with no hesitation. I groaned as he pushed his large foot into my stomach. “You’re SUPPOSED to obey!” he said. “NO.” I told him again. He raised his foot and brought it crashing back down into my stomach again, and then he leaned forward, shifting part of his weight onto me. I groaned louder as I grasped his calf and he smiled. He enjoyed this torture, and he’d never get in trouble for it. Who would tell on him? “Are you going to obey now??” he asked. I whispered out one more “NO” using all the breath I had left.

He raised his foot and stomped down on me a third time, knocking the breath out of me, but this time, he shifted ALL his weight onto my stomach and stood there, balanced on one foot across my belly. He braced his shoulders against the ceiling of the doghouse and pushed with all his might. I thought his foot was going to go right through me and into the dirt as I felt my spine pop and heard the nails in the dog house roof creak from the pressure. I’d never been so flat. My eyes rolled and I groaned loudly again. If anyone had been looking into my backyard that day, they would have seen a small guy laying in the dirt being stomped on and “abused” by a larger barefoot kid. He smiled and bounced on my stomach, until I yelled, “I’ll obey!!” He smiled, stepped off of me and walked back to the tent alone. I pulled myself off the ground, dusted myself off and got his soda. I came back to him in the tent and gave it to him before laying back down on the floor under his feet.

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