Legacy LD5

Just a quick, unfinished scene between a professional anthro rex masseur and the smaller amphibious critter who badly wants a trampling.
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"Cho'qual, you mean?" He frowned.

"If that's what you call it," I replied warily.

"You want me to do cho'qual... on you?"

A bark of deep, saurian laughter. I felt my insides shrinking, the excitement and wary expectation of earlier giving way to plain humiliation. Wordlessly I turned and strode back through the steamy room as quickly as I could without making any more of a scene. I had nearly made it to the door when a single commanding word stopped me.

"Wait."

It probably sounds hypocritical given my request, but I've always hated the effortless authority these saurians weild over the rest of us. Here I was in an establishment whose sole purpose was to provide a service for customers like me, yet somehow I was at the beck and call of this employee instead of the other way around. Simple animal instinct had betrayed me again: our ancestors hadn't even shared a planet, but my subconscious had already slotted this rex neatly into the role of 'predator'. It made him very hard to ignore.

"What?" I said, turning around. I found myself face-to-face with a black scaly abdomen and stumbled back in surprise. Gods they were big. He leant right over the top of me and held the door shut, lowering his voice.

"You're not talking about snuff, right? Nanites... resurrection... stuff like that."

I stared up at him, squeezing back against the wooden frame, my heart racing. "What? No! I just..."

"Because I'm not into that. It's illegal."

"Painful too, I imagine." I swallowed, meeting his yellow-eyed gaze as best I could and trying not to think about the role his own subconscious had likely conjoured up for me. I could see my reflection in his fangs.

After a good deal of scrutiny the rex's expression lightened. "Yeah, sorry. It's just... you know what cho'qual is, right?"

I gulped, edging myself out from under him and putting a respectful distance between us. "Is it the one where you walk on people?"

Another snort of laughter. "That's not really how I'd describe it. It's more about reducing muscle reflexes and promoting a sense of wellbeing through broader applications of less intense pressure than you get with..." He trailed off and slid a clawed hand over his face. "You don't give a toss about any of that, do you?"

I opened my mouth, but wasn't quite sure how to answer.

"Kratians don't come out looking too good after a rex has been walking on them. How about I find you another krat or a monitor or something more your size?" He started forward for the door.

"No, please..." I winced, appalled by the pleading tone of my voice. The tall, black-scaled saurian turned back to me, a smirk forming across his reptilian muzzle as he waited, one eyeridge raised expectantly. There was no denying our subconsciouses now. "It has to be you," I said, stealing another glance at his broad, generously-spread rex feet.

He seemed tempted; I could feel his slitted eyes roaming over my amphibious body. Their affinity for trampling often got rexes into trouble and I could see this one weighing up the reward of unleashing his instinctive dominance upon me with the risk of breaking my far smaller body and the penalties that would incur.

Finally he said, "In a private room. After closing time. And you turn off your implants for the whole session. I don't want you making any recordings you can whack me with later."

A tidal wave of elation surged through me. I clasped my trembling hands behind my back and cleared my throat, adrenaline overriding my better judgement with defiance. "My implants are none of your business. I'll pay double."

An angry snort. "Credits won't do me any good in jail. If you end up mashed full of rex footprints the first thing they'll do is look through your recordings."

I blinked, taken aback. "Mashed full of... You'll be using the bars, right?" I pointed up to the ceiling supports above one of the massage beds.

"All it takes is one little slip, fleshy. This stuff is illegal for a reason."

For the first time since entering the steamy room I felt real doubt. Before me was a creature close to twice my height and anything up to ten times my weight who would, if we proceeded, lock me in a room, switch off my implants and trample me. Images from newsreels and the darker side of the entertainment world flashed into my mind: bodies discovered in dark alleyways, pulped unrecognisably and riddled with big saurian footprints. It was common knowledge that robbery often wasn't the main motive when rexes were the perpertrators.

I looked back up at this one, feeling a strange urge to laugh at the fact that he was the one hesitating. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline. "Okay," I agreed. "My implants go off, but you keep yours on and recording the whole time. If you stomp me there'll be evidence."

The rex grinned toothily. "Plus, I get to watch it again later."

I can't help but think that, somewhere in that universe, there are protesters holding up signs like "Dead is dead" and "Nanites aren't natural!"

I do hope this unfinished scene turns into a finished one! You seem to be moving more towards consenting "victims" in your last several stories I've noticed.

I do have one critique though.............. It's not finished. It needs to be.

And a bit more!

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It didn't take long to finalise the other arrangements. Sick with unindulged lust, I proposed that we should meet later that very day, but this was rejected outright on the grounds that he needed time to prepare the room. Eventually we arrived at a date two days hence, on the ides of the second phase; I would return at dusk and find my way to the Cupro room, then wait for him in a private chamber at the far end. We parted company and I immediately went home to relieve myself.

The next two days I spent lurching uncontrollably between feelings of potent lust, gut-churning anticipation and self-loathing. I couldn't concentrate at work and found myself frequently replaying the sensecast I had recorded of my encounter with the rex: his finely-sculpted body flickering before my eyes while the damp of the steamy room prickled at my flesh. I hated myself for resorting to this; It felt like nothing less than a betrayal of my own species and an endorsement of the saurians' own self-proclaimed superiority. But I couldn't help it. I had managed to snatch two meagre glimpses of the rex's bare feet on the tiled floor of the massage parlour and these were more than enough to confirm my interspecies treachery. The thought that I might shortly be beneath those big black paws was mesmerising. I tried to imagine how it would feel to be covered up under them, stretched out on a padded table while they slowly trod on me, but a lifetime of over-indulgence in sensecast tech had had left my imagination lame and unsatisfactory.

As the hours trickled by and the moment grew closer, fear became the dominant emotion within me. At home I scoured the extranet for material concerning tyrannosaur crush victims, carefully limiting my searches to newsreels and popular media so as to avoid flagging the attention of the authorities. The results were as horrific as you might expect: ruthless executions... witnesses chased down and killed... implants ground out to prevent resurrection... The more I read, the more I realised how easily I would sot into the reports. Victims were small - usually either kratians or monitors - and were taken at night whilst alone and in a secluded area, by one or more rexes. They were often abused and humiliated, made to worship or lick the soles of their captors for the rexes' own sexual pleasure, then they were brutally trampled to death. The better equipped gangs were known to use cascade sweeps to make DNA tracing harder, but even when a victim could be identified and pristine samples of the attackers' DNA collected, cases often went unsolved. In short, there was a very real chance that this rex would kill me.

Still, as it so often does, lust overruled my better judgement and late the next evening I locked up my apartment and walked into town. In the otherworldly glow of the streetlights every passer-by took on a guise of hostility, even those my size. If it hadn't been for my lack of imagination the journey probably would have been a lot worse, but it was still a relief to round a corner and finally see the warm, inviting lights of the health spa before me.

The foyer was empty save for a couple of raptors, chatting and laughing at the reception desk. They didn't acknowledge me as I edged past them but I could feel their eyes on me as I strode down the corridor way from them. It's almost impossible to turn your back on a raptor without feeling like you're about to get pounced upon.

As I made my way up to the massage parlour, a tangled knot of nerves was forming in the pit of my stomach. I undressed in the locker room and donned a towel, then, after subtlly swallowing down an anaphrodesiac pill, headed off in the direction of the Cupro room. It was deserted when I came to it, but still I stalked through like a guilty hatchling, making quietly for the door at the far end, as the rex had said to do. Adrenaline pumped through me, heightening my senses and turning my fear into a kind of tense, electric excitement. There was no way I was turning back now.

Condensed beads of water sparkled on the brass plaque beside the door. It said "Cupro Room II" and there was a little sliding strip beneath it that said 'Vacant'. I heaved the door open and a cloud of steam billowed out. There was no one inside. A quick, uncertain glance over my shoulder and I slipped in, letting the door swing in behind me to close with a soft whump. For a time I was still, looking around the small room with tense trepidation. The walls and floor were coated with white tiles and there was a wooden bench along one side. Crisp, clean spotlights gazed down from the ceiling, illuminating broad shafts of steam beneath them. In the middle of the room there was a raised table of polished stone with a strip of recessed black leather padding along the centre. I regarded it narrowly: four kratians could easily have fit on top of it.

Uncertainly I sat myself down on the bench, legs dangling above the tiled floor. My heart froze as I heard footsteps approaching: the dull bassy smack of bare rex pads on stone. Suddenly trembling, I hopped down off the bench and edged behind the table, mind racing to find excuses should someone enter other than my accomplice.

It was him though, ebony-scaled and towering in all his saurian glory, every bit as animalistically powerful as I remembered. He was carrying a couple of sound inhibitors and looked almost as furtive as I felt. Fear and lust make confusing companions and I managed only a strangled gurgle as the rex looked in at me, something between a greeting and a cry for mercy. Naturally, he took it all for fear and held up the inhibitors placatingly.

"They're just a precaution. Otherwise if anyone listens in, they'll figure out what's going on in here."

I backed away, aghast. "And what if I'm calling for help? If I've got my implants off-"

"Hey, you asked for this," he growled testily.

You don't want to get a rex testy. I backed down and datacastd him a question instead: [Are... yours on?]

[Course they are], he replied on the same channel. He put his gear down on the table and glanced down at me, folding his arms. "Not that you could stop me switching them off once we've gotten started."

I nodded dejectedly. The same thing had occurred to me the previous night: there was absolutely nothing I could do to control the situation. While his implants would, by design, retain the previous two days' activity in short-term memory, if he quietly switched them off during the session, there would be no record of what he did to me and I would be none the wiser. All I had to assure my safety was the promise of money.

"My account's set up to transfer two thousand. I'll datacast the authorisation code... afterwards."

The rex set an inhibitor down on the bench and switched it on with an electronic hum. The other one was positioned on the floor beside the door, facing inwards, its green status light blinking sedately at me. "Afterwards, huh?" Almost as an afterthought he flicked the door locked and turned around to smile at me in a distinctly predatory manner. "If that makes you feel safer."

It didn't. Money was hardly ever a factor in these things. Rexes crushed creatures like me because they liked it.

He seemed to sense my thoughts, moved to sit down on the table. "Look, I'll try to be careful but don't be under any false pretenses. You probably won't come out of this without a lot of bruises and a cracked rib or two. Maybe worse. Are you sure you don't want to go find yourself someone smaller and... more legal?"

I looked up, averting my gaze as I met his yellow eyes. "I have a thing for saurian feet."

An amused snort. "No kidding." He glanced up and down my diminutive body. "You probably shouldn't go telling that to every rex you meet. Frankly I'm surprised you've lasted as long as this..."

It might have been a joke - those scaly muzzles are hard to read.

"Right then." The big dinosaur heaved himself off the table with a bassy thud. "Sound inhibitors on... Hmmm. Implants."

The moment had arrived. I took a deep breath and initiated a shutdown routine. Suddenly the world seemed a lot smaller, the room a lot more confining. I could tell by the look of his eyes that he was datacasting someone - hopefully just me to check I was offline. Hopefully not a group of other rexes to tell them about the dumb little kratian he had locked up in a private room ready for trampling.

"Good," he said after a moment. "I've set up a continuous access request, so don't try to switch them back on or I'll know."

Access requests usually work on a ten-second cycle. It was quite possible that I'd be able to activate my implants and call for help before he realised what I was doing. A strangely comforting thought. I was about to ask whether he'd done any of this before but speech failed me as I saw him fish a box of pills from amongst the gear he had brought in with him - the same type of anaphrodesiac that I had taken earlier. He tossed five of the brightly coloured capsules into his maw and swallowed them down.

"What?" he asked, seeing my expression.

"You're not doing this for the money, then..."

A toothy grin, pale predatory fangs standing out starkly against the black scales of his muzzle. "Is that what you were thinking?"

I stared, as though seeing him for the first time. He was comfortably twice my height and weighed as much as a whole discus team of kratians. A towering saurian of jet black scales, whose whole species had a reputation for enjoying to put smaller creatures under their massive scaly paws - with often fatal consequences. The idea of him treading on me was almost unbearably sexy from my own fetishistically twisted point of view, but the thought that he would also become aroused while doing it gave the whole thing a darker, more sinister edge. It would not only be the laws of physics wanting to crush me flat underneath his shapely soles, but also his own sex drive. Could I really trust him to keep both in check?

This is the first I've seen where you flesh out the backstory and worldbuilding so extensively; major kudos for that. I don't mean to undermine or discourage that effort in any way. But I believe a certain stick-figure bard says it best: "Everyone knows that plans only work if you keep them a secret first. If you talk about them and then they happen exactly that way, there's no tension!" This is a masterwork suspense buildup utterly betrayed by your entire history of art, writing and collaborations thus far.

Dammit, foregone conclusion.
Dammit, hubris!
andeverythingturnedoutfinetheend... andeverythingturnedoutfinetheend...
andeverythingturnedoutfinetheend... andeverythingturnedoutfinetheend...

Thanks very much, Sprotchy!

And yes... I'm afraid I can't put any major twists in at this point that don't involve a lot of trampling...

Playing things straight in-universe would be a sufficient meta-twist.
But if there must be death... at least let there be karmic retribution. If you don't write it, I will.

Quite the enjoyable story! Can't wait to see more of it

The rex showed me the correct posture to adopt, completely covering the padded table as he stretched himself over it, lying on his front with his head down and his feet dangling off the far end. Trembling, I followed his example, clambering up with as much dignity as I could and easing myself down in the middle of the leather cushion. It must have looked ridiculous: my entire length took up barely half of the table and I could only just reach the edges of the stone rim with both my arms stretched out. I folded them in front of me and put my head down between them as the rex had done. The leather felt firm and smooth against my cheek. I could feel the heated imprint his body had left before me.

With the casual air of a professional about to ply his trade, the big saurian padded around the table, explaining what he would do to me. I could barely hear him, let alone make sense of his words; blood was pounding in my ears and every sense within me was screaming with anticipation. If not for the drugs, I would have been painfully aroused and completely unable to hide it. Not that it would have made much difference - there was very little dignity left in the situation for me. I felt like an animal sacrifice, cowed into docile submission before the predatory might of this ebony-scaled saurian. I couldn't believe it had come to this.

"Got it?" he said, crouching down to look directly at me. I jumped like a compy on hot coals.

"Yes," I replied at once, my breath huffing turbulence in the steam. "Yes, fine." My heart was racing. I blinked several times and looked up at him. "Please don't kill me."

He stood up slowly, arms folding as he regarded me in silence, one eyeridge raised. I had no idea what to make of that and just watched tensely while he disappeared out of sight behind me. From over by the bench I heard a rustle and a click, then a slick sliding noise began to prickle through the air, intensely clear to my straining senses. I listened in breathless rapture, almost certain that he was rubbing oil into his foot pads. I desperately wanted to watch him doing it, but couldn't quite summon up the courage to look. The sound lingered for a while, quiet and provocative, then it stopped. A long silence followed. Finally I heard the soft, weighty thump of his foot on the edge of the table and my heart skipped several beats. He was really going to do it.

Another bassy thump and his shadow fell over me. I heard the muffled ring of the ceiling bars as he gripped them. From high above came the deep rumble of his voice. "Try not to squirm," he said. I didn't like the way he seemed to savour the word.

Slowly, he placed a single foot on my back. For an instant of tingling ecstasy I felt the warm, broad expanse of his sole spreading out against my bare flesh, filling the small of my back and curling up over my spine. Then the mighty foot was down and resting on me. "Gods," I breathed as it paused there, humbling my fragile body with all the dominance and complacency in the world. It felt so big...

It was a shameful sentiment born of plain lust, but in that instant, as I trembled there on that table under the heat and weight of the rex's sole, I truly felt as if I belonged. All my resentment, my species pride and my dignity withered and died beneath the simple indisputable superiority of that big black foot. I could have lain under it forever, quietly subservient while my saurian master loomed impressively above me, a towering reptilian god of ebony scales and oiled pads. Instead though the great paw lifted a little, warm sole flesh parting from my protesting skin as the rex subtly repositioned it upon me.

This time when it trod down, the weight of the tall dinosaur followed it. I squirmed in self-preservatory panic as the pressure rose to shocking heights, forcing my body to curl backwards around the rex's foot. For an instant I was certain my spine would snap but another set of firm sole pads quickly spread over my upper back and pushed me down, evening the weight.

"Hughhh," I protested as the air was squeezed out of me and my body entered the vice-like compression that is being fully stood upon by an adult rex. Tears rolled down my cheeks and my mouth gaped in silent protest. It was unimaginably intense. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, the single thing registering to my overstimulated brain was the pressure his feet were exerting on my far-too-small body. I could feel them both on top of me, right there, side-by-side, completely covering my back. I tried to call for help but my jaw had clenched tight under the strain, I couldn't even remember how to start up my implants. As a final hopeless resort I made to reach up and grab at his ankles in a bid to push him off. My arms only twitched and spasmed, useless under the barrage of pressure. A single, clear thought squeezed its way into my overloaded mind - 'my body is no longer my own' - but it was lost along with the rest of my consciousness as I gave up, eyes rolling back while the world rushed in around me.





Cold water was on my face, running down my throat. I choked, spraying it from my mouth and nostrils as reflexes hauled me up into a sitting position over the screaming protest of my abdominal muscles. I found myself face-to-face with the rex, his eyes squinted shut and his muzzle dripping.

"Lovely," he said, rubbing a clawed hand over his face as he stood up before me.

Don't underestimate how scary it is to have an enormous black-scaled saurian loom up over you moments after a near-death experience. I gurgled in panic and sprawled backwards off the table.

This drew a snort of amusement from my saurian assailant. "I told you not to tense up," he growled, stepping over to deposit his half-empty water bottle on the wooden bench. "Acetylcholine and antiandrogens don't mix well at the best of times, let alone when you're bruising up like that-" He paused and pointed a clawed finger at me significantly.

I didn't know what he was talking about, but I followed the gesture and recoiled as I saw the state of my underside - it was mottled with ugly dark bruises despite the padding of the table. A wave of pain hit me as I stood up: the entire core of my body felt as it had been mercilessly pummelled for hours on end. With as much dignity as I could gather, I retied the towel around my waist and cleared my throat. "How long was I out for?"

"Just a few seconds. You okay?"

I winced as my back inadvertently touched the wall. "Yes. That was good. Really pleasant." I edged stiffly towards the table without moving my back. "Very relaxing."

"Turn around," he said.

I looked up at the sharp command, instantly regretting my sarcasm. "What?" His yellow eyes had regained their predatory lustre. I swallowed and obeyed, spine tingling as I turned my back on the big saurian. A long moment of silence followed while he examined the bruising on my bare back. I strongly suspected that it formed two perfect rex footprints.

He was silent for a few tense seconds, then growled, "Nice."

I staggered back around to face him again, cautiously indignant as the adrenaline crept out of my system. "I'm glad one of us is having good time."

He folded his arms and eyed me levelly. Again I felt my insides shrinking under the power of that gaze.

"Thank you," I added meekly. My chest ached potently as I took a deep breath. I could see his own rising and falling steadily as he leant back against the wall: the very embodiment of physical prowess and predatory allure. My gaze descended to linger upon his strong, black feet, spread firmly upon the floor tiles with little halos of condensation hugging tightly around them. Those perfect saurian feet had actually trodden on me. I had been squashed down underneath them like an insect. I had felt their soles against my own flesh and experienced the awesome, crushing domination of being trampled by this magnificent reptilian. "Cho'qual," I breathed in wonder. "It feels... incredible. Painful, but so good." I looked up to find an unimpressed eyeridge quirked at me.

"That wasn't cho'qual, fleshy. I just stood on you. For like five seconds." An amused snort and he shook his head. "I told you, you're far too small for this."

I swallowed, nodding. We both knew it was true. Our bodies were incompatible on almost every level - mine small and slight, suited to semi-aquatic life in a gravity field far lower than this; the rex's massive and powerful, honed to predatory perfection sprinting through the jungles of Ras. It should have ended there, with me paying for his services, thanking him for not turning me into a puddle of mashed-up amphibious slime and leaving to find satisfaction elsewhere.

But of course, that wasn't an option any more. The guilty pleasure seeded in me so many years ago had grown insidiously until it was a fixation - one which the presence of this rex had churned into a full-on obsession. Now, having felt his huge, heavy soles upon me, it was nothing short of an addiction. All the doubt, fear and resentment inside me was drowned out by a single, clear yearning: I needed him to trample me.

"You'll do better next time," he said, stooping to pick up one of the sound inhibitors. The resonance of the room sounded strange when he switched it off. "A few more sessions and it might actually be worth recording something."

I thought about this but said nothing. Everything hurt and on top of it all the anaphrodesiac was wearing off. I needed to get home and masturbate explosively. "Can you go out first?" I asked, trying to arrange the towel around my waist less uncomfortably. "Check the coast is clear?"

The rex finished gathering up his stuff and turned to look down at me, nodding. "Probably a good idea." He glanced at my back and smirked. "Anyone sees those and we're both in trouble."

It's such a short scene, but the way you describe it is just perfect. It's exactly how I'd imagine a nervous little amphibian giving into a guilty pleasure and trying to savor every second of it. "Next time" though... I like the sound of that!

Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

I am sure this took considerable restraint. For that, I thank you.

I'm not nearly as fixated on violent crush as you might gather from my art. Consentual and even sensual trampling are both just as good in my book!