by Kawong
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I used to work as a caretaker for a local University. One of my favorite things to do was watch the gymnastics team when they practiced in the gym. Moreover, the guys didn't really seem to mind because I had become friendly with them. It was that time of year for the gymnastics team competition and the guys had been practicing extra hours.
After half an hour of watching them, I called out, "Hey guys, I've got an old stuffed man I put on my front porch each fall for Halloween. Let me bring it in for you tomorrow. You always need some extra motivation against the other squads. You'll then have a target for coming down off of your pyramids and other stunts when you need to land in the right spot."
"That's sounds cool. I've got a shirt from our rival squad we can put on it. We'll stomp it good!" said John.
He was not only the squad leader, but one of the cutest guys the school had ever been privileged to have. He had a hot body and reeked of confidence. So they went on with practice and the plan was set. In reality, I was going to put on the shirt and paint my face with the rival squads colors so I looked as much like a dummy as possible (at least more then I usually do). The stage was set for some of the coolest trampling ever since I always loved watching guys and dreamed of being stomped by them in their white shoes.
The next 24 hours passed in what seemed like a few minutes as I couldn't believe I was going to get my wish and it was so easy to come by. I arrived at the school and brought the shirt from the cross-town rivals the Bears. It worked nice to paint yellow and brown on my face because I didn't have to do it very heavy due to my dark complexion. The plan was to put me underneath a platform that was on the stage. The platform had just enough room so I could lie under it and the top of the platform was even with my body. The guys arrived a few minutes later and liked the idea of what was to happen. The guys also liked the idea of the mat because it allowed them to practice longer without their legs and feet getting as tired like on the hard gym floor. Then they saw me; the "dummy" and they were really excited.
"Thanks," yelled John. "I hope you made that dummy out of good material, because it's about to get the stomping of it's life!"
"Come on guys!" yelled John. "Let's give this dummy a workout. First, let's warm-up."
The warm-up was similar to an aerobics class. First, the guys began to stretch. Since John was the team captain, he decided to take the first turn at testing out the dummy. He walked over and stood on my chest. The guys normally wore light, but sturdy shoes so they could do all of their moves, but the soles take the impact. Today, as John stretched I could see the soles of his shoes and saw the outline of his foot had been worm smooth. These guys weighed anywhere from120 to 180 lbs., so I wasn't too concerned.
The warm-up took about 15 minutes and I couldn't believe I was really in the midst of eight hot University guys with one standing on my chest. I began to believe it as they began to practice. Their routine started and there was lots of moving around. They began practicing the music part. I was made painfully aware of my situation when, without warning, two shoes walked across my face and then suddenly disappeared and landed on my groin. I felt my dick shift beneath the sole of the sneaker and I had to stifle a moan. Suddenly, two more shoes landed right on my face with one on my forehead and the other on my mouth; I smelled the rubber sole. Then the guys, for which I was now the floor, began bouncing in place before suddenly disappearing and then reappearing.
Then the one on my face made a quick spin with one shoe now on each side of my nose and then they were gone and at the same time the other dude spun on my groin and left as well. I was quite literally their aerobics mat! I began to wonder what happened because the music kept going, but I couldn't see the guys. Just then I the music shifted and four of the guys stepped on me at once walking quickly to the front of the stage. Then the music shifted again as they formed a line and began slowly moving back towards me until I had three guys on me at once. I knew that I could easily handle 150 lbs. but 300 lbs. landing on me each time they jumped and kicked was really taking the wind out of me.
I couldn't say anything or I would blow my cover and with one on my head, stomach and legs, I really couldn't move. Fortunately this was the last part of the move and they stopped. Then they all made a quick turn to the right and all eight guys began marching over me and off the stage. I was hoping both, they and I, could take a break after that. While it was painful, my dick was getting really hard and it was the most awesome feeling ever!! Just then I heard the gym door open and a strange older voice began to speak. It sounded like one of the guy's fathers. I couldn't hear what was going on, but I soon heard the guys coming back over to the stage. Then I saw it was the coach ! He was about thirty, muscular and handsome.
The coach was a man of great animal magnetism and I must admit to having a big crush on him. He told the guys to get ready to do the routine again and to my amazement...kicked off his shoes, revealing a pair of dirty white socks, so his cleats wouldn't poke holes in the mat. Then he said, "What's this thing doing on the floor?"
One of the guys said, "Oh, the caretaker brought that dummy in as an incentive since its wearing a Bears shirt."
"A dummy, huh," he said doubtingly. "Well, we'll see about that. It looks a little too life like for my taste."
Then he walked over and examined me closely. Before I could utter a word he lifted his right foot and stood on my stomach. I was able to handle it for awhile, but we both knew that eventually I wouldn't be able to hold my breath and I would give myself away. Then, I felt the other foot lift and come down to rest on my face. My mouth, nose and left eye were completely covered by his big, wide foot. The sock sole was wet with sweat from being inside his cleat and it took everything I had not to sniff or lick it ! After about thirty seconds of watching me he decided to do us both a favor and told the guys to go get a drink of water.
"So, Mister Dummy," he said as he scowled down at me, not releasing any pressure. "Suppose you and me have a little talk."
"What about?" I mumbled, trying to speak with his heel practically in my mouth. Also trying not to sound as scared and totally humiliated as I felt.
"Oh, like I'm not supposed to be concerned about a grown man lying on the floor while my guys are practicing ?" he said sarcastically. He then stared into my eyes and I saw the most cruel smirk form on his face. All the while he stared at me the soles of his feet were digging into my face and body. His right foot had sunk into my belly and I could only take short breaths. Those breaths were filled with his rancid foot odor.
"So, you like feet, huh?, he mused as he pressed down just a little harder on my poor nose making sure I was getting the full benefit of his foot odor. My eyes were starting to water which made the coach smile. "Well let's just have you go to the office across the hall and see if we can't work something out."
I got up and ran to the office just before the guys came back in. In a few minutes the coach entered.
"Well, since I don't have any other shoes with me today, I guess you'll just have to deal with my cleats, " he sneered. "Unless you'd like to explain to the Dean and the police what you were doing here."
Without saying a word I got down on the floor and he sat in the chair behind the desk in the office. He had worn his cleats the entire day and they had dirt and grass stains on them. When I brought my face within an inch, I could smell the sweat coming off them. My tongue began to lick those glorious shoes until they were white again. He seemed to love it when I ran my tongue along the rough shoe bottom, knowing instinctively that this was as low as I could go. The coach inspected them and seemed satisfied.
"Now", he said with a cocky grin, kicking off his now clean runners...and immediately went to work on my face with his sweaty, dirty socks. The man must have played an entire game of football for his feet to smell this much! First, he made me sniff along the entire, damp sole of his right sock before grinding my face under it like a used cigarette butt. I lost count on the twelfth foot twist on my flattened nose under the ball of his foot and I heard him chuckle as he tormented me in this fashion, muttering, "Yeah boy, feel those feet crush your face."
I whimpered as he used his heel on my nose and laughed as he did it. Then, without warning he thrust his toes into my mouth and forced me to lick every crevice...every wrinkle, on those awesome socks! The aroma, while heavenly, was almost more than I could handle. He had me clean all the black, ground in stains on both socks before letting me catch my breath. I licked those socks like a madman until my mouth was full of the taste of filthy sweat socks and my nostrils reeked of foot odor.
With my tongue still hanging out he moved his feet away and told me to move over to the door of the guys locker room. As I crawled off the floor and made my way to the door I noticed that the coach had picked up his phone. I had fantasized on many occasions about being in a guy's locker room with all of those wonderful bare feet.... Soon, I was lying right in front of the door so anyone going in would have to travel my entire body first. I soon learned that is exactly what he had in mind.
He blew a whistle and yelled, "OK, guys, practice is over. Line up for your showers!"
These guys certainly weren't in kindergarten so lining up was not the normal course of action. The coach had a plan. I soon learned the plan was to have the guys line up at my feet and one by one walk up and stand on my chest. The coach decided to be the first and when he stepped on to my gut I thought I would explode! The coach had put his cleats back on and was now trampling me beneath them, the hard soles making me feel like a human pin cushion! The pain was unreal ! I looked up pleadingly to see a big grin on the coach's handsome face as he moved around on my torso, his muscular legs pushing the cleated soles into my flesh.
"Now, guys, I want you to take your shoes off and stand on the dummy's face for a moment."
The coach then kicked off both of his dirty cleats. I heard them fall to the floor and then felt the hot soles begin to walk up my body. When the coach was close to my chin he merely looked down before lifting first his right then left foot and standing on my poor face! "I then want you to twist around a bit or do whatever you like and then go take your shower...remember that the dummy's face represents the team we want to crush next week!"
The big, cruel feet trampling my face began to get active. The hot, sweaty sock material was ground and twisted in my face which just left me flattened! I couldn't groan or cry out for fear of getting caught but I know that the coach felt my attempts to cry out beneath his soles! This sounded good and bad at the same time. I didn't know how nasty the guys would be, and to my surprise, I hadn't noticed before, but not all of the guys had worn socks. That meant all this time some of those gorgeous feet had been sweating inside those sneakers with no socks! The first guy was a knockout. Short blonde hair, blue eyes and a massive chest...and he seemed to delight in the idea of a dummy being the sidewalk between the gym and his shower. He very deliberately walked up my legs across my stomach and stepped hard on my chest...all the while I tried desperately not to make a face. Then he reached down and untied each of his sneakers which put a lot of pressure on the balls of his feet and on to my chest.
I could barely breathe at this point. He then revealed the most awesome feet I had ever seen as he kicked off both of his runners, one landing right beside my head. From the perfect toes to the nice high arch, and I could immediately smell the aroma from his feet as he wiggled his toes about half an inch from my nose, suddenly freed from the confines of his very sweaty shoes. I thought the coach had smelly feet, but these were far worse! I looked up in time to see a smirk come across his face as he took one step and I felt the bottom of his foot land on my face. I saw darkness as then brought the other foot down until he stood squarely on my face with both feet! The pressure on my face was almost too much for me to take and I felt his sweaty feet slip an inch or so, pulling the skin on my face down with it.
Never had I felt such soft, wide soles on my face and the smell was fantastic. He didn't seem to have too much trouble staying balanced on my face, after all he was a gymnast, and he simply righted himself by manipulating me underfoot as if I was his balance beam. It didn't last long, though, because he was a follower of instructions as he came up on to the balls of his feet and proceeded to twist like Chubby Checker. As he mangled my face underneath his smelly soles, I heard the coach chuckle. The layer of sweat coating the bottoms of his feet served to lubricate my face allowing him to twist and grind with greater ease. The area under his toes was of course the sweatiest and I could feel and smell lots of toe jam being smeared all over my eyes, nose and mouth! Now I know how a dance floor must feel like, I thought, as I was twisted, ground and overall annihilated under the powerful feet! He finished me off by grinding the balls of his feet into my cheekbones one last time before raising his right arm in a victory salute. This was met with cheers from the other guys. He then arrogantly stepped off my face, which was now red hot and aching.
Then I heard the coach say, "Hey Murray, over here!" It was the school's hockey coach who I realized was the one the coach had called down when I was in his office. "We got ourselves a dummy here...the mascot from the other school". I saw Murray look down at me. "How about showing the guy's some school spirit and giving it a stomp!"
Murray walked over and stopped by my head. Playing along, Murray put his foot up on my chest saying, "You mean we have the other team's mascot lying on our gym floor?" He chuckled and stood on top of me. I looked up into his face and saw that he was stunning. He looked more like a model than a hockey player.
Some of the guys cheered him on, "C'mon coach, stand on its face!" An arrogant grin crossed Murray's face as he bent down and untied his black shoes. I felt the warmth from his socks on my chest and he then looked down at me and placed one, then the other, foot squarely on my face! As the blood rushed to my dick, I got to experience the feelings of being crushed beneath yet another man's feet. "It feels weird"; Murray laughed as he moved his feet around on my aching face! I had to breathe and when I finally breathed in, I got to smell the sweaty odor of coach's navy blue socks.
The next seven guys were aggressive and I got stomped like you wouldn't believe. It was a mix of sweaty, bare feet and damp, smelly workout socks, with NONE of the athletes showing me any mercy! I barely got a chance to take in a full breath between crushes but I did manage to quickly lick my lips...only to taste the salty footsweat and toe jam that was being left on my face from all of the dirty feet using me as a welcome mat! They seemed to love getting out their frustrations from the long workout on my face and body. One dark-haired young god laughed as he looked down at me, hands on his hips and held his foot about an inch from my face, looking at his teammates for encouragement. I could smell the powerful aroma coming from his foot and as I looked up into the sole that was about to crush me, I noticed the dark, dirty foot imprint on the once white fabric!
These socks had been worn many times I was sure as I heard, "We're gonna crush the other team next week!" At the same time planting the bottom of his socked foot over my nose and stomping down, flattening it under his weight! I nearly cried when he did this, especially listening to the cruel chuckles all around me and feeling the next stud's foot step on my hard dick, awaiting its turn on my face! With one foot on my face and another pressing down on my dick, I started to lose control. I tried hard not to give in but it was too late. I began to cum as the foot on my dick moved around and milked me for all I was worth. The masculine smells embedded in the sock fibers in my face assaulted my senses and my head swam.
If only these guys knew the power they had over me as I turned to jelly beneath their hot, smelly feet! I came and I came, the last drop of cum was drained from my dick when the guy's heel stepped on and separated my balls. When I felt the last smelly foot grind my nose into a pulp under its heel, all the young studs had made their way into the shower. The coach approached me to say I had better never show my face around the gym again unless I wanted to talk to the police as well. He did give me his phone number and told me to call him and he would make me submit to his stinky feet anytime I wanted.
