Lady Samantha - EXTREME TRAMPLING SUBMISSION [ With Defilé ] ( Full Version SMARTPHONE VERSION )

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Extreme Trampling Submission

Samantha stood at the foot of the bed, glaring down at her sleeping slave. It had been a long night for both of them, and she decided to let him rest on the floor. Now that morning had come, it was time for him to pay the price of his submission.

She walked over to him, her high heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She towered over him, her body casting a shadow as she leaned down. Her hand hovered above his chest before finally making contact, pressing down hard enough to force a groan from his lips.

"Wakey, wakey," she purred, her voice like velvet over steel. "Time to reward your loyalty."

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at her in confusion. He couldn't imagine what she could possibly consider a reward after such a long night of servitude.

"Samantha..." he began, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"Shush now," she said, her tone firm but laced with warmth. "I have something special planned for you."

With that, she stepped back and began to walk around him, her footwear changing with each step. First, it was a pair of tall black boots, their leather creaking as she flexed her legs. Then came a pair of stilettos, their red soles catching the light as she strutted past.

Next came a pair of sneakers, their white rubber soles contrasting sharply against her tanned skin. Finally, she stopped in front of him, wearing a pair of flip-flops, the soft rubber squishing between her toes.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked, smirking down at him. When he didn't answer immediately, she gave him another hard slap across the chest. "Answer me when I'm talking to you!"

"A footwear parade," he said, his voice shaking. "I'm..." His words trailed off as she raised her foot, showing off the flip-flop dangling from her toes.

"That's right," she said, lowering her foot to the ground and stepping closer. "And now it's time for you to enjoy the show."

With that, she began to slowly flex her muscles, her body tensed as she prepared for what was to come. Her foot suddenly shot out, connecting with his chest with a loud thud. Over and over again, she stomped on him, her weight bearing down on him like a ton of bricks.

Each time she stomped, she switched up her footwear, keeping him guessing as to what would come next. A pair of sneakers squished against his face, the soles of her boots ground into his ribs. She squeezed his nipples between her fingers, her other hand holding down his throat as she crushed him beneath her heel.

By the time she was finished, he lay there, broken and battered. She stood over him, her chest heaving as she caught her breath.

"Now," she said, her voice softening. "That's what I call a proper foot fetish."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving him to nurse his wounds. As she disappeared from view, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of woman would subject someone to such extreme humiliation. He knew he had been warned about the dangers of submitting to Lady Samantha, but he hadn't expected it to be quite so brutal.