Trampling Madrid - WOMEN DO NOT LIKE ME 3

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Trampling Madrid - WOMEN DO NOT LIKE ME 3

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WOMEN DO NOT LIKE ME 3

The air was thick with anticipation as the lights dimmed, and the stage came alive. The goddess, towering over everyone in her stilettos, took her place at the center of the room. Her presence demanded attention, and everyone in the crowd could feel their hearts racing.



The music began to play, a slow and seductive beat that echoed through the speakers. The goddess swayed to the rhythm, her hips moving hypnotically. She was in control, and everyone knew it.



Suddenly, a figure appeared on stage. It was me—a mortal man, kneeling before her. My eyes were covered, and my mouth was open, ready for whatever she had in store for me.



Without warning, she stepped forward, and her foot pressed against my chest. It was heavier than I could have imagined, and I felt myself being pinned to the ground. She lifted her other foot, and it too pressed down on me.



I could feel her power radiating off of her in waves. It was both terrifying and exhilarating, and I knew that I was completely at her mercy.



As she stood there, her feet pressing down on me, I began to worship them. I kissed them, licked them, and whispered sweet nothings in their crevices. I was her slave, and I would do anything to please her.



Finally, she pulled her feet away, and I gasped for air. She towered over me, her heels digging into the stage as she leaned down to speak. "You see, men like you," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "You think you can treat women like this."



With that, she stomped her foot down on my chest, grinding her heel into my skin. I screamed out in pain, but it only seemed to amuse her. She lifted her other foot, and before I could react, she brought it crashing down on top of me.



The crowd roared with approval, and I felt the weight of their gazes bearing down on me. I was nothing but a pile of flesh beneath her feet, and yet, I couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction.



As the video drew to a close, the goddess stepped back, and the music faded away. I lay there, battered and bruised, but strangely fulfilled. The title said it all: Women Don't Like Me. And yet, in that moment, I knew that I would do it all again.

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