Trampling and Femdom

In the world of Female Supremacy and Female Domination, Trampling does play an interesting role. Often considered a fetish activity involving foot fetish and shoe fetishes, I believe its’ severity is mostly undermined. Trampling a man to me is an excellent way to afflict the most amount of pain with the least amount of effort. By the mere act of walking and stepping, I’m pressing one hundred pounds of weight onto the body of my subject. There is indeed many types of pain that is involved. For one the pain of the mentioned weight, secondly the pain of the instrument on the skin, third the pain of the way that I am stepping.
What an enjoyable idea it is, to have the gorgeous mistress walk and step on a rug which is made of human flesh. The human carpet is a fantasy a surprising a mount of men continuously dream of. It is particularly interesting to me, to jump and twist on top of the carpet as to afflict more pain. The scrapes on his body are not dissimilar from kisses all over. A different form of affection, I suppose. An intense expression of emotion. My weight, my body on top of his, mingling with his, in a most intimate fashion, yet refusing and denying any intimacy of the genitals. Submission is to give in to the Mistress’ will. It is to give up your self, and your ego in sacrifice to her unrelenting drive and passion to express what has laid dormant inside. Be it wrath, be it violence be it sheer love of carnage and the wish to cause pain.
In trampling, the sub becomes the proverbial “doormat”. To live out the symbolism in the physical world is significant to ultimate submission and femdom thought. The dominant, sexually expressed female seeks men to dominate and use. She wants to walk all over him...and she does. Being crushed under such a woman is the physical expression of love for her. She takes his body, he gives his body. She gives the pain, he takes it. A communication of the most basic and raw emotions. An entity and world of its’ own, the act of trampling my slave is the act of dehumanizing the male into what he really is: the path I walk on, to where I wish to go. The ground I walk on, beneath the dust of my shoes. The filthy street for which I have little or no regard, unless it’s a particularly useful or beautiful one.
The belly is good for jumps, the face is good for kicks. The groin is good for stepping and the chest I love to scrape. My carpet, My design, My will and no reproach. My libertine lifestyle serves me in the utmost way, and I can recommend all women do the same if they so please.
Trampling is a true expression of my sexual self, and I take the liberty to use a man as a doormat as a matter of course, because that is where he belongs.