It's time to take things up a notch. This time, as goddesses, we transform our slave into nothing more than a mat beneath our feet. With every breath he takes, he feels the press of our heels, and with every step, his pride shatters a little more. His existence is purely for our pleasure as we enjoy ourselves while he writhes beneath us. While sipping our coffee, we realize that the previous massage wasn't enough to satisfy us. He needs to do more to earn our approval. We rise slowly, and our slave lies down at our feet, ready to be used. We begin to walk over him heels pressing into his back, stomach, making him struggle to breathe beneath our weight. Now, he is nothing but a mat, an object for two goddesses to trample on. No longer just an ashtray or spit receptacle; now, he is crushed entirely beneath us. Every groan, every whimper is a testament to his devotion. As we press down harder, we wonder if our slave i ready for his next trial.