Real Estate Trample
31-Dec-98 01:20:16

Real Estate Trample

Gary had been into trampling from a very young age. Eventually, like all good boys, he grew up and bought a house outside San Diego. He never married and was smart enough to save his cash. Eventually, his trampling needs became so great that he bought another house. It was a small two bedroom place that was almost completely gutted out. It needed major work inside, but this would never get completed.

This house became the tool to exercise his trampling desires. His idea was to call real estate agents have them come over and give his property a market analysis. These days there are a tremendous amount of women in the real estate game. Most of these women dress nicely, suits and heels. So in his new home Gary built several false floors. Some with face holes, others with just enough space to allow his body to squeeze in.

Day one: Marci from Century Twenty One.

She pulled up in an Lincoln Continental. From his conversation with her, Gary told her that he couldn’t be there to greet her, but he’d leave the key in his “secret spot” on the porch to allow her entry. There she would be able to inspect the premises in order to complete her analysis. She agreed. Now as she exited the car dressed in a beautiful gray dress suit. The jacket was very sharp with angular shoulders, and her skirt stopped several inches above her knee. She was taller than Gary expected, her shoulder length blond hair was styled similarly to Scully from the X-Files. Gary was erect from the moment he saw her. She was absolutely gorgeous, and couldn’t have been a day over 33. After this quick survey from up on the second floor, his eyes fell to her shoes. They were a slightly darker gray than her suit, and the suede heels were a respectable 3 inches in height. They were wider heels probably an inch in diameter. Anyway, as she stepped onto the porch to search for the “secret spot”, Gary quickly went into his first false spot the face hole.

The anticipation was killing him as he heard Marci enter the house and begin her work on the first floor. The heels clicked off of the hard would floors. He warned her that the house was getting major work done, so not to worry about the debris scattered on the floors. She said she understood. Finally, as Gary was lay there he heard her steps coming up the stairs. He had wisely chosen the face hole spot’s location, putting it underneath a window with an amazing view of San Diego five miles away. He had hopes that the women would step over to see this view. Previous to her arriving, Gary had arranged the area beneath the window so that, in order for someone to look out of the window, they would have to stand on or next to his face. He had pulled a “paint drip” sheet over the hole, but placed it so he could see slightly at ground level. It was thin so it would ensure almost bare face feeling.

As she entered the room Gary could see her feet. His heart was beating harder and harder, faster and faster. He became even more excited when he noticed her stepping on pieces of wood, underneath other “paint drip” sheets, as though she didn’t care. Then she approached Gary’s position.

Because of the sheet Gary couldn’t see where she was, but he knew she must be standing above him. Then before he knew it her high heeled foot came crashing down on his face. The soul had found his forehead and her heel landed below and to the right of his nose catching his upper lip. The pain shot through his face and he nearly panicked. She stood on him for about 15 seconds, then he heard her say, “amazing” (in regards to the view). Then while she continued standing on Gary’s face, she dug through her purse for something. She started talking, and Gary realized she had grabbed and dialed somebody on her cellular phone. As she talked she lifted the soul of her foot into the air so her shoe rested on the heel. She slowly twisted the heel as she spoke to the person, not realizing the tremendous amount of suffering she was inflicting on Gary beneath her. As she spoke, Gary in agony, began whispering to himself, “please ma’am, I’m stuck down here, please help me….” After thirty more seconds, she lifted her foot off of him. He was relieved, feeling the trickle of blood escape from his lip. Then her foot returned. Unfortunately for him, her heel now sat perfectly on his eye. He hadn’t expected that. She shifted her weight and stepped off. The pain was intense, but the incredible fear of losing his eye kept him from shouting out. He heard her leave the room and after another three minutes, he heard her leave his house.

He quickly exited the false floor and went into the bathroom. His eye was completely red (and would be black for the next eight days), and his mouth was swollen with a little bit of blood on the underside of the lip.

After a beer, and a few minutes to ponder his experience (if you know what I mean). He picked up the phone to Re-Max Partners and spoke to a Jenny. “Hi, I’m calling to get a market analysis done on my home.”

More real estate adventures to follow, cheers.

Mat11