Daily Foot in Face, Dec 29, 2011


Hi, Doms and doormats. Here’s today’s look at how I like to use my feet on people’s faces!

Having to put my foot down with Rage.

Ah, Rage. Always a pleasure to wrestle this fat moron. Always losing so badly despite his weight advantage, and despite his moderate wrestling skills. Here, after a brief back-and-forth between us, I immobilize Rage by simply sitting down on his stomach and pinning his ugly mug to the mat with my foot. I don’t think that Rage even saw all my footwork as particularly degrading to him, the innocent lamb.


The Joy of Using My Feet … End of Clip 1


Hi, doormats and Doms.


The past photos I’ve shared have all come from the first clip in the latest AJ series called Victor vs Sparring Partner. I’m spending a little more time breaking down my writing and photo blogging by clips and series of clips until I manage to find a way to create slideshows to upload to the clips4sale site and give people a better idea of the material they are getting. Once I do, I’ll probably go back to a more freeform style of writing and topic-finding.

Here are some photos from the later moments of the first clip:

Mixing it up...


I love to use more subtle approaches on my opponents and keep them guessing. It’s great fun to pin an arm down by stepping on a man’s hand and then crushing his arm under my other foot with most of my weight. The opponent really can’t do much except roll over to his side to try to push you off, but he can’t manage it from his position on the floor. I love letting the man feel my relaxation right through my feet and allowing him to wonder when I’ll be stepping off his arm.


heel stomping his gut


Another way I enjoy mixing it up is by stepping away from the pro-wrestling style footwork and going for some traditional street-fighting beatdown moves. Here, you can imagine me having beaten down AJ on a sidewalk somewhere downtown and then walking up between his legs and just putting my heel down hard into his soft belly and every bit of air being driven out of him. That’s nearly what happened here, where I didn’t use my full strength because I wanted him to be fully responsive to the next tortures I was going to inflict on him.


crotch smother

So, here’s a new trick. I get my legs around my opponent’s head, pull it right between them until their nose is crushed up against my package, and clamp their head in place with my thights. I’m just surprising the shit out of AJ at the moment the photo above was taken. His face is just getting its first up-close-and-personal with my junk. I thought you all might like the bare sole shot as well! And yes, by the way, it’s a pretty big turn on just forcing someone’s face into your groin!

Felating big toe


All good things must come to an end. I like to leave my opponents some steam in order for them to worship me after I’ve defeated them. If I outright incapacitate them, they only thing they are good for is standing on and victory poses, which are great fun in their own right, but today I specifically wanted my big toes sucked! AJ is more than willing to do this once I tell him it’s the last thing he’ll have to do that session, that day.




Wrestling Todd: Barefoot Domination, pt 2


When we left our hero, poor todd, he was in a bit of a fix–literally. His head was fixed in position on the wrestling mat, held against the floor by my foot. He began to make these huge efforts to slide his head out from under my foot. He was sweating so much I had to keep a good hold of him with my toes and drive my foot down hard to match his effort to slip free. Finally, I realized it was starting to cost me as much energy to hold him down as it was costing him to fight me, so I took my foot off him. He came up to his feet just in front of the green chair I’ve now included in all my studio matches. I stood up straight in front of him, not crouched in a wrestling stance to lock up with an opponent. I didn’t have to. todd’s energy was just about spent, and I could take my time deciding on how to defeat him. He was just waiting for me to attack, and hoping to get some of his wind back as I did.

I pushed him back into the chair with my foot in his gut. Then I leaned into the man, one foot in the middle of his chest. Slowly, I began to give his chest soft, rhythmic presses, pushing down on his sternum and compacting his chest, matching my pressure to each time he inhales, denying him a full inhalation on every beat. He smiled at me as soon as he realized what I was doing to him, and how it was working to keep him from bouncing all the way back in this contest.

Why don't you just take a break, sport?

I stayed with his breathing for over a minute, and he was getting desperate to get his full wind back. Whenever you have an opponent in a compromising position, I’ve learned it’s best to vary the kind of stress or pressure you keep him under–the better to confuse his efforts at finding at way of escape and shorting him of the time to think of something tricky.

Below, I’ve changed tactics but maintained my strategy of keeping him defensive by denying him unrestricted breathing.

todd ... wishing he was back on the mats...

Extending my toes fully the way I’m doing above draws all the tendons and muscles in the sole of my foot taut, and makes the point of contact between my heel and the ball of my foot much less soft and forgiving. I plant my foot right over his throat and push hard, sometimes on his Adam’s apple, making him choke, and sometimes on the throat itself, strangling his breath.


Finally putting my foot down with todd...


Todd managed to slide free of my choke by eventually grabbing my toes and heel and pushing my foot away hard enough to get his throat clear. I had to punish him for that success. I always try to work on a rewards and punishment system, using energy-bleeding but mostly painless holds as a reward for not fighting back too hard and using painful holds and strikes to punish opponents for escaping the holds and pins. Here, I sandwich todd’s little head between the hard arm of the chair and my foot. I’m pressing hard, hard enough to feel his teeth right though his lip just under the arch of my foot. I love this photo; it shows such mastery and control of my opponent, and all so simply and brutally accomplished–just my foot crushing the poor man’s head.


Further punishment for the ego and pride

Usually I never apply a humiliating hold unless it’s also working my opponent hard with pain or a drain on his energy. This move is doing very little other than humiliating todd. My big toe forced into his mouth. And by the way he’s recoiling from my foot as hard and fast as he can, I can appreciate how mortifying this move is to experience for him. He’d signed on for a foot domination match, but he didn’t expect me to make good on my promise of actually getting my foot into his mouth! Delicious.

The first video can be found here.



Daily Foot in Face, Aug 2, 2011: New wrestler Todd


Sit right down in the comfy chair!

Introducing Todd, my latest opponent. I’ve also added a new piece of setting to my apartment studio–a simple, worn leather chair that I accidentally discovered could be very useful in roughing up an opponent! I had been trying to pull Todd into me, to get my legs around his waist for a body scissor, but he pulled back hard enough to stay clear. So I drew on my judo background and added my strength to his and pushed! My feet sent him sprawling backwards into the chair. After softening him up with a few stomps into his stomach, I soon found that the chair put my opponent in all manner of tempting positions for administering a kick, stomp, or trampling! It was a glorious epiphany!

In the photo above I’m crushing his head against the firm arm of the chair with my foot. It works perfectly well given my height at six feet even. I promise, you’ll soon be seeing more of this chair in my matches with Todd and other new opponents.

Love to all,

Victor B

Inflicting Pain with My Bare Feet as Humiliation

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How does that feel, monika darling?

Continuing on my theme of pain and suffering as part of the foot domination I so love and enjoy, I invite you to contemplate the photo above. I’ve got monika maple’s head under my foot and I can tell you that I kept stepping down on it long after this photo was taken. Her face was already read and grimacing from the pain. In another few seconds she began screaming for me to stop. There’s my passion captured perfectly.

My foot grinding down on a person who has had time to figure out what’s happening to them and how helpless they are. The music of their cries and protests and the poetry of their struggles to escape are what I live for.  

Let me leave you with one more perfect picture of pain:

Standing on a training partner, all my weight one foot--on his jaw.

I have to say that brutalizing men with my feet must be my slight preference over women. They guard their dignity so much more fiercely than most women. I was on Troy’s face (above) with both my feet for a good ten seconds without him making a peep. It was only when I picked up my right foot, letting all my weight press down on his lower jaw that he yelled his submission and cried for me to get off.

Love you you all, Doms and doormats alike,


Victor Black’s Bare Feet Used To Brutalize and Humiliate Men!




Me putting my foot down with this joker. He's sure not putting up much of a fight...

One of my favourite cartoons of all time is Popeye, especially the old black and white ones from the 50s and the early colour ones from the 60s. Naturally, Bluto (or Brutus as he was once known) is a huge role model for me (or at least for my erotic persona). He was a big, muscular grown-up bully who routinely beat the daylights out of Popeye to gain his objective, which was Olive Oyl, more of than not. A typical cartoon would set up with Bluto intercepting Popeye on the way to call on Olive by starting a fight with him or, even better, sneak attacking him in some horrendously violent way. He’d be waiting on top of Olive’s house and would wait for Popeye to ring the doorbell, then jump down onto Popeye’s head with both feet, driving Popeye right into the ground and, standing on Popeye’s head, would greet Olive as the she opened the door.

Bluto often used his feet to lay heavy damage on Popeye. It was Bluto whom I first saw committing absurd acts like jumping with both feet on Popeye’s head, kicking his prone face with all his might and sending Popeye through some goal posts, et cetera.

I used to be quietly turned on by watching these violent scenes as a child. From an early age I took a great interest in schoolyard fights when one boy greatly overmatched another and would bloody him some before the teachers could arrive to break things up. I still remember a kid named Jason (a medium-sized boy, but very mean) fight Kenny, a big, spastic misfit, and punch him enough time that Kenny curled up in a ball to protect himself. After trying to wrestle Kenny out of the turtle position without success, he changed tactics.

He walked up to Kenny, stood over him, and stepped on the side of Kenny’s head with his shoe and pressed down on it. Kenny freaked out and started to get up from the ground onto one knee. Jason didn’t hesitate. He kicked Kenny right in the nose as hard as he could. You could hear the thud the toe of his shoe made on Kenny’s face. Next thing I knew, Kenny leaned over and blood began to pour from his nose and spatter the asphalt. Kenny started to make this wild shrill wailing sound, and the fool didn’t even put his hands over his nose to slow the bleeding–just let it pour out of his nose as a ring of children looked away in horror or shock.

I watched Jason take just a step back. The humour had left his face. He knew the spectacle would bring a teacher soon and see him in heaps of trouble. But I knew Jason would be making jokes and telling stories about it all the next day. Jason wasn’t sorry. He was delighted. He’d not only beaten up another boy, but he’d been able to take his time with an already beaten boy and think up what kind of degrading act of violence he could inflict on the boy to see to it that no one would forget the spectacle of the deed or the sight of Kenny’s pain, blood, and horror at his injury.

This was the kind of sadism which, in sexual fantasy, I admired, lusted after, and constantly reworked in my head.

And then came pro-wrestling, in the glorious 80s. This was the era of the squash match, when jobbers with tacky names, outfits, and appearances would wrestle brand name wrestlers and be beaten soundly by them. When the brand name wrestler was a heel, or bad guy type, he was invariably a bully, who spend the match dominating the other wrestler completely, generally using vicious cheating tactics and dishing out humiliating holds long after the point when he could have won the match.

This became the next big visual and dynamic source for my imagination. I’d watch wrestlers stomping each other repeatedly, grind the bottom’s of their boots on the other wrestlers forehead, step on their prone throat. It was all delicious.

Me getting comfortable on this jobber's chest. Don't know what I feel like doing with him yet, but it'll come to me!

I’ve since nurtured and evolved my bullying themes and fantasies in various genres, from superheroes to pornography. But I’ve always taken a special delight in using my feet to add insult to injury. Something about using your foot on someone expressed so many things. I’m unbeatable. I don’t have to try hard to utterly dominate you. I can afford to keep my hands free while I beat on you with my feet. I can ignore the usual rules of the competition and just stand on you while your down to make my point: I can manhandle you at will. And my favourite point that using my feet makes: I can treat you like dirt by putting the lowliest part of my body right in your face, and you won’t be able to stop me!

I’ll aways remember the words O’Brian, the party member and thought cop of The Party in Orwell’s 1984, said to Winston, the helpless hero. To paraphrase very loosely, he said, “Suffering is mandatory. Otherwise, how would you know you were exercising power over someone? What you are ordering them to do might be their secret wish. Only by making someone suffer are you sure you are controlling them, because they must be undergoing something or doing something against their will.”

That’s the secret of suffering. And it’s one of reasons why pain and violence have always been so seductive to me. It’s really a power trip to be able to step on someone’s face, leave your foot there long enough for a man to realize you’re degrading him by using his face to step on, and then push down hard on that man’s face to keep him wriggling in a horribly humiliating position.

Actually, I've always been fond of going one step further than merely holding a man's head pinned to the ground with my foot; I love to actually stand on his face with both feet! That turns my opponent into a conquered piece of ground, not even worth talking to or looking in the eye as I wrestle him.

So, that’s whyI love violence, wrestling, and why I love to use my feet for both! But there’s more to add to this verdant topic … Different uses of my feet say different things to an opponent–especially a male one. I’ll be focussing on this in part two.

Love to all, Doms and doormats,

Victor Black

Trampling a male wrestler, pt 2


moving from a victory pose to a full facestand.  Tom was downright shocked I was going to go through with it.

When we left our struggling hero Tom, he’d turned an important psychological corner in his match with me. He been put on the mat, his back stood on in a humiliating fashion, and finally, pinned to the ground and held by a hammerlock, he’d had his face repeatedly mockingly pressed on the whole time by my foot. He’d smouldered and could do nothing about my mocking of him. During that time, he’d gotten as mad as he could get without the submissive, wimpy side of him taking over and beginning to find something perversely appealing about being manhandled so completely.

In the photo above, I’d been standing on his chest and stomach, arms crossed in a victorious pose on an all but beaten man. I could feel all his muscles working simply to support my weight, but no effort to jostle me off his chest. His will to resist me had been broken–broken quickly and thoroughly. This is the part of the match I truly relish, when a living opponent becomes a plaything to use to demonstrate my dominance and the extent of my will to humiliate another person. I decide to stand on this man’s face, and begin feeling out the side of his face and head for bone structure and the best foothold. His cheekbones are quite sunken, offering no solid spot for the ball of my foot. With low cheekbones, I find the ball of my foot tends to lay over the orbital bone, a sensation that isn’t my favourite. So I look for something else. Tom is groaning in surprise at what I’m doing, and just starting to realize I’m not just playing with his face, I’m preparing to stand on it!


Another try from the side.

It can be awkward moving from a man’s chest to his face if he has as much of a barrel chest as Tom. I dismounted, and tried a first step onto the side of his face, toes just under the temple. I could feel him surrendering to my intention to damn well get up on his ugly, unshaven mug, and the only resistance this very strong young man is putting up isn’t really resistance at all–it’s his left hand, fingers digging into the mat to cope with the pain of half my weight crushing the skin of his cheek against his cheekbone. Delightful! The higher the cheekbones, the more pain this causes.

Right on there, one-footed

Although you can’t see my other foot, I’m actually standing on this lad full weight, with just the one foot. My big toe is curling just under his nose to keep me from sliding any further forward, and in a second or two, my foot is going to slide painfully further down his cheek. I’m having a really good time of it now, as you can see by the smirk on my face. I love to have a big, meaty guy like this to sink my bare feet into!

If you’re enjoying this photo entry, you might want to download the video as well. It’s here.

End of part two.

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