"Steve Pt. 02: Standing On"
A few drinks later, I found myself relaxing with Erin and Steve at a cafeĢ in Toronto. We were chilling on the patio, drinking beers and enjoying the sun, with my chisel-toe boots resting on Steve's face (who was lying on the interlocking bricks beside me) and Erin sipping her pale ale. The server knew us and didn't mind our antics as long as we stayed reasonably civilized.
"I want to take things a step further in the ring," Erin told us. "I want you to humiliate me. Stomp on me. Stand on me. Step on my tits, right here, in front of everyone."
Erin was a muscular woman, a wrestler for years, with flowing blonde hair, thick lips, and glasses that gave her a slightly nerdy but still hot look. She had broad hips and was almost six feet tall. Even though she'd put on some weight, it seemed to go straight to her breasts, which were impressive in size.
"I've talked to Steve about it," she continued. "He loved the idea of seeing you destroy me in front of the fans. If you pulverize him, he'll come back to try and stop you and get beaten up even worse."
"Then what?" I asked.
"I want you to leave a memorable mark," she said ominously. "Steve will be sitting on the mat bleeding, injured, and covered in your seed while you stomp all over me. I even want to record it, leave a bloody footprint in the ring apron."
"And what if afterwards I spray your face with my seed?"
"I think that's perfect," she replied, her eyes twinkling. "Stand on my tits first, then spray your footprints on my face."
"Are you playing this out as if you're enjoying it or if I'm just forcing you to do these degrading things?"
"I want it to seem like it's all your idea, something my husband can't handle," she said. "I'll make sure to pull you by the ankles so I can control how much weight I'm taking."
Despite her tough exterior, I had been a little hesitant, but I knew Erin could handle it, thanks to her experience as a jobber.
"What else do you want?" I asked.
She bit her bottom lip pause. "I really want your foot in my pussy, up to the ankle."
"Seeing as you struggle to fit even just one of my toes into your mouth..."
"I'll find a way," she promised.
XXX
The following day, we were in the studio, surrounded by a small audience of about 400 young men and women. I made my way to the ring, keeping my pace slow to bait each side of the audience for either cheering or booing. I climbed the steps and entered the ring to more boos than cheers. Steve was already in there, leaning against the ropes in the corner, looking stoic as ever. Erin was stepping through the ropes, about to sit in Steve's corner. I gave the crowd the finger, earning a mix of boos and cheers.
With everyone ready, I settled in for the match. Erin was an experienced wrestler, so the plan was for me to make it seem like I was doing all of this to her, but secretly, we both knew what was really going on.
As the match progressed, I stomped on Steve, both verbally and physically. I left my boots on his chest when not using them to dominate Erin. Knowing her limits and seeking her permission, I stepped on her tits, pressing down. She let out a moan, so I stepped on them even harder. My boots made deep impressions in her soft flesh.
Eventually, it was time to take things to the next level. I carefully stepped into Erin's family jewels to leave her crippled while I focused on torturing Steve. After punishing him for a long while, he jumped up onto the mat and came at me, but I was ready for him. I pounced on him, absorbing his attacks and eventually pinning him down. After he was injured and covered in semen, I stepped on Erin's face, putting all my weight on her. Looking down, I could see how deep my boots had pressed into her ample tits and noted the cheers from the audience.
As Steve struggled to stand up, trying to protect his fed-up wife, I instructed the ring crew to record me spraying my semen all over her. Pulling her by her ankles, I stepped on her face once more for a final footprint in the ring apron.
The match ended soon after, with Erin covered in my semen, her tits squeezed flat under my feet, her face covered in my footprints. My boots clicked the linoleum as I walked off and, with a look at Steve, who was hovering over Erin protectively, I felt a sense of accomplishment.
Steve had a youthful appearance, and he looked cautious as he made his way to the middle of the ring. I approached him nonchalantly as the referee, an attractive young brunette named Courtney who also wrestled waited for us to clash. I connected with Steve, attempting to dodge under me and apply a hammer lock. I jabbed him in the face with my elbow and threw him into the ropes. He returned towards me, colliding with my foot that I had planted in his stomach.
He stooped over and I positioned Steve's head between my legs and took him to the mat. After holding his head captive between my thighs for a while, the audience began to express their displeasure: "Boring!" Interesting, as if I sat on the mat with Steve's head between my legs for a few minutes wearing him down, they'd complain. But if I stood on his face for an equivalent period, that would be entertained.
I took their cue and held Steve's wrists, placing my feet on his shoulder, maintaining his face-down position on the mat. He was on his knees, facing downwards, and I was sitting, extending my legs, while my feet were on his shoulder. The spectators became slightly more intrigued, but I knew I needed to get a bit more risque or they'd start complaining again. I removed one foot from his shoulder and put my big toe into the corner of his mouth, shoving it as deep as possible into his cheek. Then I repeated the process with my other foot, hooking him in the mouth with my big toes. After that, I cried out a yell and strained on his wrist, slamming his face towards me as my feet pounded against him.
"Wrah!" Steve moaned. The referee went with the flow and initiated a count. I had until the count of four to shift to a legal wrestling hold or Courtney would disqualify me, or threaten to. I strengthened the hold for a few seconds and relished the snug, wet sensation of Steve's cheeks, then withdrew both my feet and flipped backwards, returning to my feet. Steve rubbed his cheeks and shook his head. Before he could rise, I landed on him with a front kick to his forehead, stunning him. Before he could recover, I leaped onto his chest and performed a little stomp dance on his pectorals, smashing short sharp stomps onto them. Steve uttered a series of grunts until I ceased hitting his chest.
"Let's go Steve," Erin screeched.
"I want some face stands!" a loud female fan demanded.
"Toe gag!" rejoiced a ringside fan.
I responded to their request. I pried Steve's lips apart with my toes, inserting my foot into his mouth, up to my heel, resting on the bottom teeth. I sensed my toes touch his soft palate, then slid to the back of his throat. Steve gurgled loudly and grappled with my ankle, attempting to lift it out and away from him. I allowed Steve to overpower me and eject my foot, leaving behind a long string of slobber on his chest as he pushed my foot away.
I raised my hands in triumph and sauntered away, leaving Steve to endure the consequences. I left Steve to recuperate and rushed to the ring ropes, where I grabbed hold of Erin, who shrieked in terror as she comprehended she was my next target. I snared a handful of her hair and hoisted her up. She yelled in fear and anger, defiantly resisting my attempted control. However, she climbed up the steps and step into the ring. I slapped her face, but she appeared indifferent, as if my slap was simply "slapping her in the face." Then, I clutched her hair, ran her towards the opposite turnbuckle, and tightened my grip, winding her.
I then kneed her in the belly twice, dropping her into a seated position in the corner. Wanting to ensure Erin didn't escape, I stepped on her forehead with my toes and dragged them down her eyes and nose. She cried out in pain, clutching her face.
Steve was staggering back to his feet. I kicked him in the stomach, doubling him over. Then I kneed him in the head, dropping him. I also made sure Erin stayed put by digging my toes into her forehead and skidding them down across her eyes and nose. The audience was delighted. "Toe gag her! Toe gag her!" loudly declared half the room.
I took care of Erin next.
I stood on Steve's face, using my bare heels on his forehead and toes against his lips. Typically, I positioned myself differently, with my toes on his scalp and the balls of my feet on his forehead. Steve was such a tough guy that he didn't even try to support my weight with his hands, as if he were trying to exhibit his struggle to the fans. His tongue even slithered out between my toes, a way for him to show that he was okay and capable of taking more pain.
I stayed on his face until Courtney botheringly intervened, then carefully got off at my own pace. I grabbed Steve by the hair, then shoved him from the ring to the cement floor. I didn't have to worry about him for a moment. I returned to the corner where Erin was exiting the ring. I pulled her hair and slapped her face twice before body slamming her onto the mat.
I noticed her large, warm breast beneath the ball of my foot, the areola, and the prominent nipple. I located my feet on her, first one and then the other, crushing down on her breasts. She shrieked loudly and for a while. The crowd was quiet. They'd never seen anyone stand on a woman's rack before, whether it was with boots or bare feet. Her hands clutched at my ankles, but she didn't exert much force to lift me off her breasts. She simply gave my feet free rein to imprint her breasts, flattening them against her ribs. Courtney was so taken aback by the performance that she failed to apply a four-count, providing me with more time. I swayed my weight back and forth from one foot to another, rocking her chest like a tiny vessel under me while pressing her breasts under my soles. I dug my toes into her, feeling the warmth of her skin even between my toes.
For the first time, I stood on her. Full weight, both feet, where her breasts were. The crowd applauded. Many of them cheered. To satisfy their demands, I moved my feet to her face. And for a brief moment, the crowd witnessed something new: a man standing barefoot on a woman's grill. I stood tall, as if a statue, balanced on Erin, similar to a bird perched on a branch, with my toes embracing her scalp and my heels pressing on her lips. Her warm hands tried to lift me off her face, but she barely managed. She was as tough as her husband. When I removed my feet, her lips and face were white, deprived of blood flow. Her face bore the appearance of a shoe print.
By the end, I left the ring to get her husband.
The thought of what I'd done to her caused me to grow an erection.
Grabbing Steve where I left him, I took hold of his hair, and asked, "You want to bleed?"
He nodded.
I guided Steve towards the ringpost and slammed his forehead into it three times. It was harsh enough to hurt and bruise him, but not cut him. I reserved that duty for Steve and Courtney. She swiftly and discreetly handed him a razor blade wrapped in tape. With Steve rubbing his face after I'd smashed it into the ring post, he began to work on opening his head, to widen the gash as the match went on. Steve touched his face tentatively, finding a trickle of blood on his nose and cheek. I grinned menacingly at the bloody sight.
The spectators adored it. I brought Steve back into the ring and slammed him against the corner. I then placed the ball of my foot into his face to send him crashing to the ground. I placed my foot on his wound, extending the cut. Steve let out a cry of pain that was partially fake and felt sticky, bloody juice on my foot. After I wiped my foot a few times against his injury, he was bleeding profusely, covering his chest and legs. I strode over to the other side of the ring victoriously and lifted my arms in triumph.
The scene wasn't very inspiring: me with my arms raised, Erin with one hand on her face after I'd crushed it for thirty seconds, and her husband bloodily dripping from chest and stomach due to a cut I'd enlarged.
They didn't make a formidable couple with my hands and feet.
Casually strolling towards Erin, who was just getting up to witness her husband covered in blood, I put a foot on her throat to flatten her onto the mat once more. Smiling down at her, I curled my toes around her lower lip and stretched it open. I shoved my toes into her mouth, pushing them past the corners until they were completely in, wedging my foot in up to my heel. My toes went to the back of her mouth and slammed into her soft tissue. Her eyes teared up and streams of liquid trickled down her cheeks as I rammed my foot into her throat even more forcefully. Despite her best efforts to push my foot away by holding it near the ankle with both hands, it was all for show. She allowed me to drill my foot into her neck with all the intensity I desired. Her nipples were firm.
The audience began clamoring for a chant: "Devour his foot! Devour his foot!"