The slave at our feet boasts of being very resilient, especially when it comes to trampling. Today weve made him lie down beneath the cross and we intend to really put him through his paces. Well trample him mercilessly, focusing on his face but especially on his neck. Taking turns, we crush his throat with our full weight; for what seems like an eternity, we watch him turn red as he struggles for breath beneath our feet. First me and then Samantha are constantly on his throat, and at times, to make the game even tougher, one of us positions herself on his face. The slave seems to be holding out against our trampling on his throat. Before we leave, we decide to take his breath away by climbing onto his throat with all four of our feet. Our beautiful fingers sink into his carotid artery and his face grows redder and redder. Only when we realise he is at the end of his strength do we step off his throat and allow him to catch his breath…..
