Once again, I found myself in a desolate alley, surrounded by the familiar stench of urine and rotting garbage. Trampling Madrid had led me here – or rather, to a location not far from here. My heart raced with anticipation as I approached the address, knowing full well what awaited me.
The studio was located in an abandoned warehouse, its rusty door baring the faded remnants of an old Trampling Madrid logo. I pushed against the door, feeling it groan under my weight before it gave way and swung open with a loud creak. As always, I was greeted by complete darkness.
"Make your way to the center of the room," a voice echoed through the darkness. The voice belonged to a woman, though I couldn't discern her features or even her location. "You know what to do."
I took hesitant steps into the room, my hands outstretched to feel my way through the darkness. The floor felt cold and hard beneath my feet, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. As I progressed deeper into the room, I could hear a faint shuffling noise – like someone or something was moving about.
Suddenly, a bright light flashed before me, momentarily blinding me. When my vision returned, I saw her – the woman who had spoken to me earlier. She stood tall and proud, her heels clicking against the floor as she approached. In one hand, she held a pair of high-heeled shoes – the kind that made her look even taller than she already was.
"Lie down," she commanded, pointing to the ground beside her. Without hesitation, I complied, lying face-down on the hard floor. My heart thudded in my chest as I waited for what would come next.
I felt her foot come into contact with my back, her heel digging into my spine. Her other foot followed, pressing against my ribcage. She moved her weight from one foot to the other, grinding her heels against my body as if she were trying to crush me. And yet, I remained still – as indifferent as ever.
Her heels moved lower down my back, tracing the lines of my spine before settling at the base of my neck. With one hand, she reached down and grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back and exposing my neck to her waiting heels.
"Why do you do this?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity. "Why do you let us use you like this?"
I remained silent, waiting for her next move. The anticipation was killing me, but I couldn't bring myself to care. So, I simply lay there, taking her punishment like it was nothing.
Her heels dug into my neck, pressing against my skin as she leaned forward. The pressure increased, and I felt myself struggling to breathe. But still, I didn't move. I didn't flinch. I was nothing more than an inanimate object to her.
Finally, she pulled back, taking her heels off my neck. She stepped away, leaving me struggling for breath. As she walked around me, examining her work, I could feel her gaze burning into my back.
"You're quite the mystery, aren't you?" she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. "Why do you let us do this?"
Again, I remained silent. Because I was nothing more than a vessel for their pain. A face to be trampled upon, used as they saw fit. A meaningless existence, devoid of emotion and feeling.
She stepped closer, running her hand along my spine until she reached the base of my neck. Once again, her heel dug into my skin, puncturing the surface. But still, I didn't move. I didn't react. Because to her, I was nothing more than a piece of meat.
And so, the cycle continued. Over and over again, I would find myself here, in this desolate alley, waiting for the next woman to use me as her personal stomping ground. Because that's all I was – a mere object, devoid of emotion and feeling. And they knew it. They could see it in my eyes – the empty stare that betrayed my indifference.
That was my fate. An existence defined by pain and suffering, with no hope of escape. I was nothing more than a punching bag, a veritable plaything for these women to use as they saw fit. And so, I would lay here, taking their punishments like a good little soldier, my face forever indifferent to the torment raining down upon it.
