ITALIAN SPEAKING I tied up our slave until he looked like a perfect mummy. My two friends and I wrapped him layer by layer in tape, leaving only his cock and balls exposed swollen and vulnerable. The rest of his body has become a rigid, motionless cocoon, with no chance to move or resist. Only his head sticks out a little, just enough for him to see what we’re doing to him. Now he’s ours. I stand up and climb on top of him. My weight crushes his mummified chest, then I slide lower and press directly on his balls. I feel them squish beneath my soles, hot and taut. He lets out a stifled moan. The other two mistresses laugh and join me. One plants her heel on his already hard, red cock; the other stomps on his balls in a slow, heavy rhythm, as if she wanted to crush them to a pulp. We crush him everywhere. On his chest, on his stomach, on his thighs wrapped in tape but especially down there. Our feet and heels take turns without mercy: one presses down, another grinds, yet another crushes the base of his cock against the taut tape. His balls are stomped on, rolled around, and crushed between the sole and the tape until they turn purple. Every now and then I give him a light but precise kick right in the center of his scrotum, and I see his mummified body twitch futilely. We keep him like this, mummified and crushed beneath us, while we relentlessly torment his balls and his cock. Let’s keep going. We trample him like a living rug. The soles of our feet crush him, our toes pinch and twist his balls while his cock gets stomped until it turns almost purple. There’s no mercy. Just the sound of our kicks pounding against his exposed flesh and his muffled moans, which turn us on even more.