His ribs and insides were begginning to strain in explosions of pain as the trampling soles crushed the very soul out of him. He was screaming for them to stop. His screams were sounding more like an animal bleat than a humans' plea. But the cruel soles did not stop. They continued to march on his body. He was desperate to escape. But there was no escape! He was trapped and being trampled like grapes in a wine press. His screams echoed throughout the cargo bay. Then suddenly, the cruel feet stopped thier assault. All of the women stepped off of his body. He hurt terribly all over. His moaning was gurgled by the hoarsness of his throat. He tenatively opened his eyes to see what was going to happen next. He knew that there was no way two hours could have elapsed. Maybe it did, but it felt more like ten or fifteen minutes. The first thing he beheld was his original tormenter. She was standing on either side of his head and looking down at him. "How was that doormat? Did you enjoy that?" He didn't respond. He did glare at her with raging hatred. His pride still would not allow him to show weakness. He spat at her. His spittle contained the blood of his cut lips where her hard bare heel had cruelly crushed it against his teeth time and time again. The spittle hit the inside of her left leg and began to run down it. "You will pay for that you son of a bitch!" She screamed. Her hard callussed heel plumeted onto his nose! She tranfered her weight to her heel and began to grind his nose out like a cigarette butt. The pain was excrutiating! His nose gave way almost immediately. The hard carlage that made the bridge of his nose made a soft cruch sound as it broke. Once again he began to bleat. Then as the blood from his ruined nose began to flow down his throat, his screams sounded more like a pathetic gargle. But still the cruel foot would not relinquish. She continued to grind and grind some more. "Are you going to spit on me again you son of a bitch?!?" She screamed down at him. He managed a no. Then the pressure released his nose as she raised her foot. His eyes were blurred with the tears of agony. He sobbed loudly. Trying to look up into the face of his tormenter. He said "I sorry, I will not ever do that again. Can I go now please?" His words were broken by his sobs. He couldn't see her face now. It was still covered by the mask that he and the other girls had put on. The masked head was now shaking as she tsked at him. "You don't seem to understand what is going on here Mr. Carter. We are going to trample you to death." She said matter of factly. He tried to shake his head and began to sob again. "I promise, I will never harm anyone again if you will just let me go. Please don't kill me." His sobs were beginning to wrack his body. He coughed a couple of times and his spittle was thick with the blood from his now broken nose. "No Mr. Carter, you see. That is not an option. You will be trample to death here today. Or maybe I will let you last untill tomorrow. I haven't decided yet. But now you are at our mercy like we were at yours. Were you merciful when you were taking our lives apart in that court room? Then how in the holy hell can you expect us to be merciful with you?!?" The last sentence was sreamed with the rage of over due revenge. "You are going to f-cking pay you asshole! And you are going to pay dearly!" She was shaking with rage at this point. With visible effort she was getting ahold of herself. "Now, I am going to introduce you to a whole bunch of women." She looked down at him as expecting him to plead again. Then with the agility of a cat she stepped over onto his chest and turned to look in his face agian. Her movements painfully pulled at his chest hairs. He wailed in pain which brough a look of satisfaction from her. Once she had her balance on his chest she said to him in a soft voice. "You see, you not only screwed us. But you also screwed about fifty women out of thier jobs." She gave that a moment to sink in. "Thats right. We had to lay off all of those hard working people because of the lost design patents. Well guess what. We got thirty five of them to show up. Isn't that nice?" She said the last sentence with mock sweetness. Greg was in despair. He began to think back on moments in his life. He though about everyone he had screwed over for the sake of his salary and kickbacks. Here he was, only a thirty eight year old man. And now it was over. He felt like the Scrroge in the Christmas Carol. But unlike Scrooge, there was going to be no second chance for himself. He was going to die an agonizing and torcherous death under the mercilessly trampling feet of at least fourty women. He bagan to sob again. He had learned his lesson only too late. He heard the women begin to come into the room. There was muted conversation and some giggling. Then the woman standing on his chest turned around and faced the crowd and began giving them a speech. "This is the asshole that cost you your jobs. He is also responsible for the loss of countless other jobs in the past. You see, this dirtbag is a corperate lawyer. He has worked hard to make the rich richer and the poor to be more of an under dog." The crowd was rivited. "But today, he is the under dog. Thats right! He is the floor that we walk on!" The last statement brought a cheer from the crowd and they began applauding. Greg was mortified. "So ladies, I want all of you to take off all of your footwear. Because today is the day of revenge!" More cheering. "I want all of you to form a line leading up to this paltform." Greg heard numerous shoes hitting the floor. Then the faint static crackle of socks. Then to his horror shuffling feet. He was doomed. His sobbing grew deeper until he was crying in dispair. "Listen to the worm cry! He deserves to be no less than a floor beneath your feet. Well ladies guess what!" She paused a moment for effect. "We are going on a hike!!!" With that there were murmers and more conversation. She raised her arms for silence. "If some of you don't have the stomach for this, then you can leave now. But if you want to get the revenge that is due this bastard for not only the loss of you jobs but the loss of so many more of innocent peoples lively hoods. Then step forward and take your revenge!!!" She was screaming. Soon the crowd was too. "Well do it!" and "Crush the worm!" Was eminating from the crowd. Once again she raise her arms for silence. Once she had thier attention she began speaking in conspirical tone. "Now we don't want him to flatten him out right away. We want to make him live out the last hours of his miserable life in agony." There we murmers of agreement from the crowd. "So what I want you to do is just walk normally on him. Don't stomp or kick him, OK?" Again there were murmers of agreement from the crowd. "So what are we waiting for ladies?" The crowd was getting anxious. They were talking excitedly and pushing to get on the platform. "Now wait, when we begin, which will be in just a minute." She looked over her shoulder at him with cold malice in her eyes. Turning back to the crowd she continued. "Once you start I want you to form a circle and just keep coming around. I want an endless chain of women walking on him." Once again the crowd was rivited. So without further delay..." She stepped painfully on his broken nose as she turned around and got off of the platform. He winced in pain as the tears flowed. The with out warning the feet were coming up his body from his feet up. He was being trampled. The sensation of pain and alternating preasures as the feet continually sought and stepped all over every part of his body was over welming. No part of his body escaped thier notice. His sanity was leaving him! The trampling did not stop or relent. The cruel feet of the revenge bent women sought out the most tender parts of his body. His lips and nose were cruelly twisted under the full weight of obese women. His groin was constantly assaulted. His was a world of torcherous agony. He pleaded and begged for it to stop. But to no avail. For more than two hours they trampled him. His body had turned black and blue from the cruel beating it had taken. They don't know how long he had been dead before they got tired and decided to stop. On his puffed face was an expression of resignation and relief.

The End

hoofprint@rocketmail.com