Re: How to get trampled wife helps Pt 3 Saturday, 14-Feb-98 02:30:55

206.32.3.175 writes:

Okay - Here's another real occurance. Last February my wife invited up her girlfriend Mary to go skiing. Mary invited two of her friends, Leslie and Sue. My wife then called Donna and Jeanne. Two more of her friends and set up a ski and party weekend.

She gave me a list of things to get at the store for her. Wine coolers, snacks, shrimp, everything for frozen mudslides, the works. Her friends would be arriving on a Friday after work. I was told to take the day off.

That entire day I did nothing but get her party ready and clean her house. At about 4ish she ordered a plain water foot soak. She usually used Johnsons foot powder, but I don't argue with her. I got it ready.

She soaked her feet for an hour or so, all the while telling me last minute things to do, and then told me to fill the 2 liter bottle under the sink with water from her foot soak. Again, I don't argue, so I did.

She told me to grab the package of pita bread in the bread bin and meet her downstairs in the family room. You walk down our cellar stairs to a landing facing a wall. To your left a door with the dart board on it. To your right, the family room, all decked out for a party. You're standing on a wooden landing about 10 inches high. A closet built under the stairs leads to the landings underside, you can look right under. Guess where I was going to spend the party.

She opened the pita bread, droped it on the floor and walked all over every piece. She ;eft tons of toe prints in the stuff. She threw them back in the bag, gave me the water, and told me to get in the closet. She had me lay down on my back and wedge myself under the landing. I had to exhale to fit under, it was a tight squeeze. She told me her friends would be here soon and she'd let me out in the morning, until then, don't move from where I was until the party was over. I was not invited!

I lay there and listened as she closed the closet door and locked it from the outside. I heard her laugh, then walk up the stairs. You guessed it, she stepped right over me. The plywood of the landing pressed down onto my chest as she did. It was almost like being stepped on.

Then, nothing for what seemed like forever. I can't tell you how long it was, from this point on, time didn't mean much to me. I was flat on my back in the pitch black in a bad situation.

I heard someting upstairs. Mary showed up first. The chatter started. Donna, Leslie, Jeanne, and Sue followed within a short while. The party had begun. They stayed upstairs for a while and then I heard the door open at the top of the cellar stairs. Their voices got louder. For a while nothing, then my wifes voice...

"Hey girls, lets have a darts tournament!" I heard them all saying that was a good idea, sounded like fun. Down the stairs came 6 girls, cranked up the stereo, drank, partied, laughed, and above all, played darts for the entire night. I layed there at their feet, unknown to all except my wife. I was stepped on thousands of times that night. At times, two or three girls would be standing on the landing arguing about a shot. Me under their combined weight, unable to make a sound.

I remember my wife saying she wanted a picture. She told everyone to get over near the dart board. Trample city. All I could do was lay there, get crushed, and listen to them laugh somewhere up above me.

I think toward the end of the party I was somewhat out of it. I can't remember much. A blur of stomps on my chest all blending into one long marathon trample. The funny part was they had no idea I was suffering at their feet.

When the party finally ended, I listened as my wife and the girls headed upstairs and all got bedded down.

I unwedged myself, had a sip or two of foot bath and ate some trampled pita bread. And waited.

When I heard the stiring, I got myself back under the landing and waited. I heard them get breakfast and talk about going skiing. A few times someone ran up and down the stairs for something, and finally I heard them starting to leave for the day. My wife ran down, unlocked to door, and told me to not disturb anything, and be back in here when she got home. Away she went.

They skied all day. I carefully went through their stuff, finding their shoes, and gave all I could find a good tounge bath. I licked inside and out. I imagined them wearing those very shoes the night before as they trampled me.

I nibbled on a few things, but didn't want to get noticed so I pretty much just waited around and ran to the closet as soon as they came back. I got under the landing and waited. They watched a movie and had Chinese food upstairs.

It was saturday night now and guess what, they did the same damn thing. One difference, they weren't skiing the next morning, so they partied until the sun came up my wife tells me. I layed there all night.

I couldn't even get out most of the next day, there were girls crashed out in the family room. It was almost 3:30 Sunday afternoon before the last girl left and my wife let me out. She told me she had a great weekend but she was sore from skiing. She said she was going to take a bath and that I could clean the house. Hey, who am I to argue?

I did, she did. When she was done, she came downstairs, sat in her TV chair and raised her feet. That's my signal to be face up under them. She needed her footstool. I spent the rest of the night there until I finally got to sleep in my own bed again that night. Went to work the next day, sore as hell. Felt like I'd been crushed half to death. I was actually.

As I tried to work, and the pain would hit, I'd imagine what all those girls were doing right then. I'd feel the pain, and imagine them laughing, or having a smoke and relaxing.

It was a long weekend, and we haven't done that since, but she's hinting at a party sometime this spring. A girls weekend she calls it. I call it a doormat weekend myself.