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Shelep's story selection (scissors,femdom,boxing and more)

Started by Shelep, 05-Apr-15, 06:47 AM

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so here in this topic i'd like to share the stories that i personally enjoy with you guys. so read and enjoy  ::)

this story is called true by the writer. you judge yourself
This is the sequel to Urban legend, the personal account of my journey from straight sex
to male servitude - the real-life story of my oral, anal and muscle enslavement by Edit, a
mature prostitute who gradually took charge of our relationship. She firmly established
herself in her new role as a leg mistress by squeezing me to the brink of oblivion several
times, then, on a chilly autumn evening in 2001, she made my ultimate fantasy real by
scissoring me unconscious.

This frightening, yet darkly sensual experience made me totally hooked on muscle-
induced asphyxia - the gradual decline to senselessness in the grip of her massive legs.
Despite the medical risks and the unpleasant memories of vertigo caused by the original
sleeper, I never stopped fantasizing about the next one. On occassion I actually begged
Edit to knock me out again, and she duly took me to the edge several times... but never
beyond. Her method of denying was simple and inoffensive: she poured the pressure s-l-
o-w-l-y, kept it on panic level long enough for my instinct of self-preservation to kick in,
and smugly unlocked her scissors at the first sign of distress. It has nothing to do with
concern, I guess - as a professional, she merely wanted to minimize the risk of damage to
a well-paying customer.

It took me almost two years to find a way around this self-imposed security lock and
prime her again as a scissoring machine, but I finally did. The long wait is scheduled to
end between Edit's legs at 19.30 CET next Tuesday: she's shrewd enough to avoid risks,
but has no scruples about applying knockout pressure either, especially with the faith of
her most enduring meal ticket at stake. She even allowed my demise be documented for
the benefit of others - see the pictures attached to the summary of recent events below.

Due to various problems on Edit's part (which included the alleged losing of her flat and
moving in with an aging tranny who allegedly had a 'thing' for her underwear) our
sessions became infrequent after the events described in Urban legend. Seemingly
unaware of the extent of her power over me, Edit kept squeezing away with professional
nonchalance, patting my head in an absent-minded way as I whacked off in her all-too-
economic scissors. After a dozen or more of these downbeat encounters, I seriously
considered giving up on her for a younger, more athletic slut with no scrouples about
causing brain damage to her clients. Someone like that sultry bodybuilder of a whore
from the mid 90s - the one who introduced me to the concept of female domination by
telling me about how she squeezed marks 'out of their wits' with something she called her
body scissors. She never actually squeezed me, but I remembered how her stocking-clad
legs went on forever as she stood over me in a playful victory pose, and the memory
made me weak in the stomach. It was one of those rare moments I felt myself capable of
severing my relationship with Edit, and she must have felt it - there's no other explanation
to the sudden change in her attitude.

Our latest meeting was nothing less than terrific; a sweet reminder of those preceeding
the original knockout session. Sleazy as ever in her full-length trenchcoat and outrageous
micro-miniskirt, Edit was a fetishist's dream came alive. She instructed me too feel her
glossy pantyhose in the car, and made a big issue showing off the cream-colored stilettos
to go with it: generally untouched by civil taste, she obviously spent time and money to
impress me. She impressed me alright; in fact, she made me so hot I planned to push my
way into her standing head scissors right in the elevator - a pity we never got that far, as
our usual rent was unavailable at the time.

I told her I'd come back next evening, but Edit, wise to the effect of her legs had on me,
was too practical to allow me off the hook. Assuming her usual commanding gait, she
invaded the nearby home of an elderly mark, ushered the poor boozer out to the
downpour, locked the door behind him, and turned to me grinning.

'See, hon? We haf a cozy little place here, and we stay as long we wanna - no need to
hurry at all.'

The air of the boozer's single room was dense with moisture: drying clothes were hanging
en masse from an UHF cable fixed between its narrow walls. It was a hell-hole from the
darkest period of a century past, but with my leggy harlot standing in the middle, it
seemed kinda welcoming - I liked it a lot already.

Obvious to my doubts concerning her services, Edit gave me a real treatment. Towering
over me in her 4 inch heels, she offered her legs for worship, squeezed me to the edge
with her calves, and kept me reeling between her killer thighs for a wanton eternity. She
could have put me out easily then, but I knew she wouldn't... not before making her point
anyway. It was so obvious I couldn't help wondering how it took so much time to figure
out -maybe I did forget she was a whore after all.

Drifting in a semi-conscious haze sustained by her reverse head scissors, I stared at the
crack between her constricting ass cheeks. It was a vertical mouth, toothless and knowing
like the one she used to deep-throat me with - and the next time I resurfaced from
neverland, it spoke to me.

She's got what you want, it said. You tasted it, and you can have it again anytime. It's all
business, you see. Want her to crush you senseless with her calves, choke you in her bush
and put you to sleep with her nasty thighs? No problem - just don't expect her to do it for
the usual fee.

Somewhere along the line she made me cum with her hands, but I hardly noticed it - I
was too busy trying to pull my act together and come up with a sensible proposal to her.
It was a waste of time of course: once I tripled the fee, Edit didn't really give a shit about
the extras I wanted in return.

I toyed with the idea of making pics of our sessions for years, but my initial experience
with digital cameras was disappointing. My entry level HP (still an excess given my lack
of skill as a photographer) needed a powerstation to operate, and was hardly portable at
all. I wanted the next one to be truly handy and foolproof at an affordable price - I knew
most next generation models met my requirements, and with Edit's permission obtained, I
decided to give another chance to the technology.

We agreed on an extended session in the 'hellhole' rent: a maximum of 2 hours including
(but not limited to) leg worship, scissoring, multiple orgasms by oral, anal or manual
stimulation, plus an undefined number of pics made of our activities. Edit was quite fond
of the idea of making money with modeling - apart from being more dignifying than the
work she was used to, it fulfilled a secret ambition common to all females... especially
ugly ones.

A winning combination of interest and ambition, it primed her to maximum efficiency as
a sexual entertainer, and more or less guaranteed she'll take the shots only she could take 
- the close-ups of me being squeezed unconscious between her thighs.

I counted the hours until Tuesday, dressed in funeral black and drove downtown to meet
her. Along with hope I took Nikon... and felt a surge of animal excitement as I spotted
Edit in her sheer pantyhose and black patent 'girlie-slut' pumps. My thirst was a physical
thing between us in the car, and kept me glued to her during the short walk to the rent.
There was some activity on the ground floor of the crumbling 19th Century conapt,  but
all I saw were her bulging calf muscles as she tiptoed around the pools of the inner
courtyard to unlock the door.

The inner sanctum of her Temple of Scissors was deserted. The boozer's ancient
television, set to silent running, smeared the walls with ever-changing patterns of
quicksilver calligraphy. Switching on the lights felt like blasphemy, but I did it anyway -
I wanted to minimize the risk of screwing up the photos while I could.

Edit, now positively bouncy with excitement, was helpful, patient and easy to work with.
Despite the technnical shortcomings (I couldn't get timed shots right, and managed to
drain batteries with a non-default flash setting), the session was everything a scissor
addict could dream of - and more with the pics taken into account. The latter short of
speak for themselves, so I won't try your patience with lengthy descriptions - see my
comments attached to them instead. To make a long story short, I got pretty much
everything I paid for... and then some.

Over the years I came to respect Edit's knowledge and professionalism, but now she
managed to baffle me again - the photosession made me realize I profoundly
underestimated her skills as a scissor specialist.

No timed shots meant no standing squeezes - a pity considering they're her favorite holds;
the ones that make her feel comfortably in control. She mainly uses them to sap my
strength by putting pressure on the carotide artery, the main blood vessel of the brain.
There are fine lines between dizziness, blackout and coma here, that's why she prefers to
do it in a balanced position... which doesn't mean she can't do it while sitting behind me
(see pics)

Operating the camera while trapped between her calves was strange enough; trying to
think and talk with her thighs mounting pressure on the sides and the back of my neck
was plain surreal. Her legs felt like monster jaws gnawing away at my neck, softening it
up methodically - in effect, preparing the prey for the kill.

This went on for fifteen to twenty minutes, and left me so weak and disoriented Edit had
to keep me from falling to one side. She made me turn on my knees  to face her, and
craddled my head between her calves for a while. She fiddled with the camera she took
from my hand, trying to figure out its workings before letting me slide face forward to the
killing jar - the musky triangle of her crotch and thighs.

There were no words, no warnings - nothing except pressure, buzzing and bursts of silent
lightning; the auto-flash of the camera in her hand. As the pressure mounted, I was
engulfed in a vauderville world of misperceptions, a realm of fake sights, sounds and
sensations twirling in a fake commotion which suddenly ceased to exist as Edit - for the
second time in two years - scissored me unconscious.

It was a minor blackout lasting about ten seconds without any side effects worth
mentioning - a welcome departure from the hellish vertigo caused by the 2001 sleeper. I
came to wondering where I went...  and find myself in a world totally alien to my
perception. There were things, but no names, no resons... no connections at all. I
remember looking at the thing staring at me with its single unblinking eye and io, it
became an object once again - a camera Edit used to take a final close-up of my face
before unlocking her thighs.

With my face buried into her crotch, I felt around for my cock and started to whack off
absently, cumming all over the floor as her adductors playfully tightened around my

'Yo alright?' she asked.


'Went all da way out this time, are yo?'

I was so spent I just nodded agreement.

'Was it good for ya?


'Took yorself some cool pics tonite, too.' She handed me the camera. 'Yor thingy really
adds to the fun.'

'Guess so.' I pulled myself together and got up to make some more pics of the legs that
excerted pressure with such frightful precisity. Her pantyhose was all but ruined, with
seams running along the insides of her thighs.She laughed and flexed her calves,
pumping those lethal teardrop muscles to maximum definition.   

'C'mere' she said, throwing one massive leg over the other. 'I want yo to lick 'em now.'

Command or not, it was an act of commendable sobriety - she might as well ordered me
to eat her ass after all.

'Will ya come next week, hon?' she asked as we hit the street. I told her yes, and I
checked the time: it took her about eighty minutes to make up to me for all the mediocre
sessions of the last two years, and regain complete control of our relationship. 'Tell yo
what: I'll put on something really kinky next time.'

Which meant triple was the standard fee from now on... which was entirely acceptable,
and will remain so until her services include the killer pressure of her scissors.

She walked me to the car like a decent slut, kissed the corner of my mouth, and sent me
on my merry way with a punchline better than all those I conjured for her in my stories.

'Sweet dreams,' she said. 


Wife's thighs go deadly on poor husband's head
"Come here and place your head right in between my
thighs" Nancy ordered. She was lying on the carpet in
the living room, her back flush with the floor, her
massive legs extended straight up in the air, wide
open, waiting to crush a head, her eyes looking at the
ceiling, avoiding eye contact with her husband. "don't
make me get up and force you down there, you know
there will be sad consequences to this kind of
behavior" she said, her muscular legs still spread
apart high in the living room air.
"please thighs, I can't take it anymore, I beg you
two, please, give me one night's rest for heaven's
sake" jack whined, looking at the two pillars that
control his soul, talking to them as if there were
three persons in front of him.
"I am not going to tell you again, my love, either you
stick your skull where it's belong, in your favorite,
familiar spot, or this time they are gonna be lethal
in our trilateral meeting" Nancy said, referring to
her husband and her two carnivorous body parts that so
profoundly changed the relationship between her and
her husband.
She knew it wasn't a game anymore. It wasn't foreplay,
as jack hoped to enjoy so much. To her, it was a way
of life. A way of life, because of the death those two
could cause in the process, and they both knew it. She
was so proud of her lower body muscles. So different
from her upper body. Her arms were average at best,
but her thighs ...  the looks on the faces of the new guys
in the gym when she took her skirt off ...  it was
orgasmic. They couldn't speak. They couldn't move.
They couldn't lift their gaze up from her explosive
thighs, even when she talked to them. They were
momentarily inert, like a mouse cornered by a cat,
like a rabbit caught by a car's lights, like a head
crushed between female thighs.
It all began 6 years ago, Nancy recalled, when they
got married. The vows, the kisses, for better or for
worse. She knew she entered a male oriented marriage,
him sitting on the couch every night, watching the
football game, angry why the dishes are not done yet,
herself trying to explain she was busy taking care of
the house chores. Laundry, dishes, cleaning, she knew
it's going to be her responsibility. After all, she
was the woman. Then, during their first lovemaking, he
commented to her how large her legs were, relatively
to the rest of her body, that was average.
"Why don't you go to the gym a bit? Your legs seem to
have a lot of potential, they are so big and strong
looking" he asked, imagining what it would feel like
to be squeezed between his own wife's thighs." I've
never been to a gym before, Jack, and what kind of
potential are you talking about anyway?" she asked
innocently. He decided to tell her about his squeezing
fetish, believing it was so remote that she'll
actually be able to develop muscular legs. "Well, I
don't know how to tell you this, but there's something
you should know about me. I ... well ... I ... I like to be
squeezed" he murmured. "What do you mean by that
honey?" she asked curiously. "Well, since my
childhood, I was fascinated with the female thighs" he
said. "I know that. Nothing new here" Nancy whispered,
afraid of what's coming. "No, listen. I love to be
squeezed between women's thighs. I've been dreaming
about what they could do to me for years, crushing my
head from the front, from behind, different angels,
hurting me. I can't see any reason for the gap between
a woman's thighs, other than to shove a male's head
inside, and squeeze".
Nancy was on the verge of tears. She could not believe
what she was hearing. Her husband, the love of her
life, the kisses, the commitment, till death do us
part ...  "You can't do this to me. I want a normal
husband, a normal relationship, I won't be able to
live this way" Nancy cried. "Look at the bright side
of it all. It could be a big advantage for you,
controlling your husband, giving orders, threatening
me with a squeezing evening if I didn't behave as you
wish" he said, chuckling to himself, knowing it would
never get to this level. " Oh, one more thing. You
know that I love you with all my heart, I admire you,
but I'm telling you, if you won't be able to control
me from within your legs, eventually I might go and
have my head crushed by another female. It's a safe
way for you to keep me at your feet, or rather at your
thighs I should say. It's like a mental prison, making
sure every evening that your husband is faithful to
you by compressing his head between your legs, even
making him bring you pleasure down there. Think of the
possibilities.  Will you do that for me, please?" he
asked knowing it could never happen. He only wanted
her to strengthen her legs a bit, so he could enjoy a
great hypothetical headscissors. To have his wife's
thighs around him and imagine what would it feel like
if ... ?  It sure is going to be his trumpet that will
make the decisions around here. "I even wrote a
limerick for you, listen ...
I know you only want to tease
I would rather feel the squeeze
Thigh and leg
Can't you see, I beg?
Will you make'em stronger please
Nancy looked at her husband, realizing it is serious
on his side, and said "well my darling, I am willing
to try to become stronger, but I need you to know that
it is only for you. No mental prison, no pleasure down
there, just because I love you".
As years went by, they could not believe how fast her
legs grew. It was like magic. Every night when she
came from the gym, sweating after running the three
miles to their home, they checked out her muscles by
placing her legs around his head. She was reluctant at
first, saying there's no use, she would never be able
to hurt him this way, as he hoped, but she started to
enjoy the fact that he could not escape from there
anymore. She gradually prolonged the periods of time
she held him between her thighs, alternating between
putting his head facefirst in her crotch and placing
his nape there, locking her ankles in front of his
eyes. "O.K. We got your point, you can release me now"
he used to grouch, while she was sitting on the couch,
the same couch he was supposed to sit on, watching
football. She was reading People's magazine, polishing
her nails, doing whatever she liked to do, sometimes
forgetting that her husband was sitting on the floor
in front of her, trapped between her thighs.
"I can't see why you are so angry at me, sweetheart. I
just sit here, doing what I usually do every night,
it's not my fault that you are stuck down there. And
besides, why don't you extricate yourself out of
there? You have your hands and legs at your disposal,
all you have to do is simply get out ... " she used to
tease him when she noticed there was someone in
between her thighs.
More and more, they became aware of the fact that her
hips got firmer and stronger, muscles bulging from all
sides converging around his hapless head. She noticed
he wasn't initiating the squeeze anymore, he wasn't
smiling when she forced him to start the regular
routine of the evening, she could handle him easily
now, almost effortlessly, his hands going up
instinctively the second she began closing her legs,
feeling the sleek muscles constricting around his
cheeks, devouring him.
"You haven't told me lately how do you feel when you
are in there, honey, can your face see the daily
progress of my powerhouse feminine legs?" Nancy asked
while she started to lift her feet from the floor,
during one of their sessions in the living room,
straightening her legs to both sides of her husband's
head, his throat is in its place next to her crotch,
knowing he is not going to escape their usual ceremony
although he still could, while her bars are still
open. Jack didn't answer. He only placed his hands on
the huge hip muscles, trying to pull them apart even
though the prison wasn't even closed yet. "I think I
have asked you a question, my love, and you know I
won't tolerate a less-than-perfect behavior from you"
she said sternly, starting to bring her legs together,
feeling her inner thighs touching his soft cheeks,
knowing her soul and body are ready for the
newly-defined relationship between herself and her
soulmate. No word was heard in the living room. And
than she decided to let it happen. Nancy Slowly hooked
her ankles, and started to squeeze her spouse's skull
with her powerful legs, as she lifted herself off the
couch, her arms clasping the armrests, the whole mass
of her body is up in the air, her legs parallel to the
floor, Jack's head is stuck in place, his upper torso
involuntarily following the motion of her legs.
After a minute or so of full pressure, them both
looking into each other's eyes, she came down back to
the couch, spreading her legs a little to allow him to
breath and listen. "I want you now to listen
carefully, my sweet apple. You know that I love you
with all my heart, or with all my thighs I should say,
but things are going to change from now on. You will
not address me anymore at night when we are on the
couch. You will talk to my thighs. They will crush you
anyway, but if you want to stay alive you better treat
them with respect. You sure can try to open them when
they crush you, but don't get on their nerves, or
they'll kill you. The pain will stop either when my
thighs decide, or when you death is imminent. We
didn't know it then, but that's exactly what we meant
when we vowed till deaths do us apart. And by the way,
I've decided so, because I can."
Jack could not believe what he was hearing. His wife,
the love of his life, the kisses, the commitment ...  "But
Nancy, let's be reasonable, who is the ma ... " WHAM her
thunderous thighs sprang to life closing around his
windpipe, depriving his lungs of the very needed
breath for a moment, and than relaxing, waiting for
the correct answer. "I guess I have no choice Nan ... "
WHAM she closed her oceans of power again, tightening
them around her husband's existence, engulfing his
whole world, making use of the strength he wanted her
so much to have. "I am sorry, thighs. I should treat
you better. I know that my only purpose in the period
of time you allow me to live is to serve you both in
the best way I can. And I need you to know that I
still love you, the thighs, I mean" Jack said, wile
looking straight to the his wife's snatch, the
juncture of her pillars, the spot he used to play
with, to fondle and lick for his own pleasure, the
part of her body that he will face for the long hours
she will hold him there from now on.   
"That's a good boy. And believe me when I tell you
it's good for the both of us. It's a squeeze-squeeze
situation ... "
Nancy woke up, opening her eyes, wondering how long
her daydream lasted. She wasn't sure where she was
until she felt a head between her still-up-in-the-air
legs, waiting to be crushed. She decided not to
degrade herself by asking her hubby how long has he
been there, waiting for the powerplant to make its
move. She assumed it must have been at least 20
minutes, herself drifting away in her reverie lying on
her back, her legs all that time high in the middle of
the living room, her loved husband on the floor, face
down, inhaling her private aroma, the result of a long
strenuous workout at the gym.
"Well well, look who is sniffing the shrine while I
was slumbering" Nancy asked, stretching her arms
without moving her legs. " I hope your head is ready
for the next phase of our relationships. I have some
good news and some bad news for you. The bad news is
I've decided to quit squeezing you, cause there's no
fun there anymore, and as far as I'm concerned my
crushing thigh muscles are already developed to the
fullest. But, and here's the good news, I think my
smashing thigh muscles are underdeveloped." With that,
she opened her now-stronger-than-ever legs wider and
wider, keeping them straight as a plank, her feet
touching the carpet, himself not getting the point,
^�what the hell does that mean?' he was wondering, when
she violently closed her granite legs together,
powerfully smashing them around his head. Jack was
amazed, hearing the repercussion, a strange noise of
snapping bones he wasn't sure yet to whom they belong.
There was none of the gradual vision blurring, the
slow change of colors in his eyes he got used to, the
games with the oxygen debarment ...
He felt her dynamite legs leaving his cheekbones,
spreading slowly, returning to their starting position
on the carpet, only to rise again at the speed of
light, smashing the sides of the poor head that
happened to be between them.
"Hey Jack, my sensitive peach, before you pass out, I
have to tell you something" she said loudly, smiling
her sweet smile into his broken face, knowing it's
hard for him to use his senses right now, let alone
hear her clearly, although her humane swords were now
spread, pointing diagonally to the paintings-covered
walls. "Remember the first night we made love, when
you told me to strengthen my legs ...  well it was all
just for you baby. All those years of hard workouts,
the devotion, the efforts, the sweat ...  I know I can
keep you faithful. Problem is, you are not strong
enough for me now. It is a problem cause I promised
you I am gonna be faithful to you, and I always keep
my promise. So I have no choice but to wish you luck
up there. We will have to quit the headcrushers and
get to the headsmashers. That is the only way I can
let you go without any lingering pain. I even wrote a
limerick for you ...
Look how strong is my thigh
to escape you can only try
crotch and hip
your life is so cheap
sorry, I have to say goodbye

and she smashed one more time.
the end.


Training Teacher

Until she had wiped out her older brother in front of the whole school
[BOBP#1], everyone at school who knew her thought that Jackie Priest was
a quiet pretty 16 year old who excelled at gymnastics. Now boys looked
at her in fear remembering what her strong body had done to Bobby. Girls
thought she was some kind of abnormally strong freak and a sicko for
creaming her brother. All that is except for Mary Slater and Ling Chan.

Mary was also 16 and Jackie's best friend. Her slender 6'0" frame with
the hourglass figure, long brown hair, sultry looks, long legs and
rapidly maturing breasts drew admiring glances from males of all ages at
school. Even 20 year olds tried to chat her up. She came from a
rigidly Catholic family who wouldn't approve of their teenage
daughter going on dates. However, she had "enslaved" a few of the best
looking senior boys in the quiet corners at the back of the school

Ling was a year younger than Jackie and Mary. A petite 4'8" 15 year old
oriental with short black hair. She was the one who taught Mary who in
turn had taught Jackie how to "enslave" boys.

Jackie had found that she enjoyed dominating her older brother and it
awakened feelings she never knew she could have. There was a new
Romanian gym instructor who had offered tuition for the more advanced
gymnasts in her gym club. Jackie qualified and was thrilled to find
herself growing stronger under the intensive weight training regime. She
spent more and more time in the gym after school working out or doing
her gymnastics training.

Although Ling was also in her gymnastics club, she didn't qualify for
the special tuition nor did she seem interested when Jackie invited her
to weight train with her. "Girls don't need muscles to train boys" she told
her for the nth time as the three girls walked around the back of the
school building one lunch time. "Quite right, one only needs dangerous
curves like mine" Mary said running her hands over her lanky body
emphasising her remarkable figure. "Oh but it feels so good to crush a
boy helpless between your thighs" Jackie replied. Ling stopped and
lifted up her right leg high. "My legs pretty strong not visible muscle
like yours but pretty strong" she said as she turned it from side to
side. Jackie could see the firmness of the thighs and a hint of
muscularity developed from years of martial arts. Ling lowered her leg,
turned her back towards Jackie and raised herself upon tip-toe. Her
calves exploded into large diamonds of muscle barely contained by her
short white socks "not bad for little Chinese girl eh?" she said.

Just then Justin Smith walked around the corner. All the girls fancied
him, he was handsome and well-built, but he was 18 and didn't look twice
at 16 year olds. Except for Mary that was. He gave an admiring glance at
Mary who stuck out her chest to make it look larger than normal. "Hi
there" he said giving her a wink. "What did you call me?" Ling suddenly
said. "Nothing" he replied surprised. "Called me a little slantie-eyed
yellow git did you?" she continued. "No, no of course not" he said.

Suddenly Ling's petite frame exploded in a fury of action. Her pleated
skirt flew up as she jumped up, her legs smashing her foot into the
middle of his face. She whirled around, skirt flying high, burying her
foot into the depths of his gut. He didn't have time to fold over
because Ling's leg rose in a blur kicking him in the throat. Another
lightning fast kick slammed into the side of his head, rattling his
brain and he started to fall to the left. Another kick rocketed the left
side of his head sending him to the right to meet the ground. Ling
jumped onto his chest delivering a series of open handed chops to his
neck. His yells of pain were smothered when she slid forward covering
his face with her crotch. "You see big white boy scared of little
Chinese girl" Ling taunted "be quiet or I suffocate you".

Justin's cries stopped and Ling slid back onto his chest. "Will you obey
me?" Ling demanded. "Get off me or I'll report you" he said. Ling's
hands were a blur as she hit sensitive pressure points inflicting pain
all over his upper body. "Please please stop" he begged, tears in his
eyes. Ling turned around and sat on his chest, undoing his trousers she
proceeded to give Jackie and Mary instruction in more advanced
techniques for enslaving a boy with her tongue. Jackie and Mary were
amazed, Ling seemed to keep him hard for ages, working him with the
minimum of effort yet denying him release although he begged and pleaded
for it. Finally the bell signalling the end of the lunch break sounded.
Ling got off Justin and released her grip. "Nghhh Nghhh Nrghhh" he shot
his pent-up load, his body jerking on the ground. Fully spent, he lay
back on the ground for a few moments. "Get to your feet slave or I kick
face to back of head" Ling demanded standing over him with her hands on
her hips. The boy scrabbled to his feet, pulling his trousers up. "Look
at your mistress slave" Ling demanded. The boy looked at her, quivering
in fear. The petite oriental opened her mouth slightly and ran the tip
of her tongue around her lips. Justin's manhood sprang immediately to
attention. "Oh what a big boy!" Mary exclaimed. "You are mine now" she
told him then nailed him with a lightning fast kick to the groin. Ling
turned and headed with Jackie and Mary to the nearest entrance to get to
their next classes leaving Justin rolling around on the ground in agony.
Jackie dreaded the next lesson. Geography with Mr. Jefferson. It
wasn't that she wasn't any good at it, but for some strange reason
Jefferson, or "Hitler" as the kids called him behind his back, kept on
picking on her. She couldn't understand it, she tried hard but he always
singled her out for a verbal lashing calling her a "dumb blonde" and he
would go ballistic whenever he handed her homework back "what do you
call this?, how dare you insult my intelligence!. Don't look like that
at me you stupid dumb blonde. This is crap, what is it Priest?. Come on
I haven't got all day. What is this Priest?. Crap! why don't you answer
me?, are you thick or something - C R A P  crap!". He would then fling
her homework book down marked "E" with big red letters. She would nearly
be in tears but she refused to give the bastard the satisfaction. She
couldn't understand it, her work was as good as anyone else's but she
always got an "E".
Mike Jefferson watched passively as the 2nd form
entered the classroom and took their seats. He noticed Jackie Priest
enter and observed as the 5'1" pretty blonde walked to her desk.
Something about her stirred his attention, maybe it was her tight
athletic body, broad shoulders tapered slightly to her waist and out to
her curving hips. Or maybe it was those long shapely legs barely hidden
by the short grey pleated skirt she wore. Every step caused her calves
to bulge into solid diamonds of muscle stretching her short white socks,
something Jefferson found disturbingly sexy.

As she sits down he looks at her pretty face. She reminds him of the
beautiful women he has met in his forty five year life, all stuck-up
bitches every last one of them. They stick their noses up at him as if
to say "I'm so beautiful, I don't associate with ordinary looking people
like you". He knows he shouldn't really take it out on the girl but he

Suddenly he sees her eating crisps. "Priest!" he yells as he descends
upon her "You insubordinate upstart bitch!". He grabs her by the collar
and hauls her to her feet knocking over her chair and moving the desk in
the process. "You do not eat in class!" he shouts at her as he shakes
her about. The crisp lodges awkwardly in her throat causing Jackie to
choke, but he doesn't seem to notice her turning pale. She starts
coughing and drops the bag on the floor spilling its contents. "Bloody
stupid bitch!, pick that up" he demands releasing her collar.

Jackie is p'd off now, suddenly she remembers the effect she had on her
brother and his mates. Instead of bending at the knees, she stands
slightly astride with her back fully towards him and bends at the waist.
Her short pleated skirt rises up high at the back revealing her buttocks
barely covered by skimpy white knickers. "Bend at the knees girl"
Jefferson mutters admiring the back of her well toned legs. He stares at
the large muscled calves jutting out of her short school socks, the
large well toned muscles of her hamstrings and her tight round glutes
displayed in front of him as she bends. He had never imagined that the
back of a woman's legs could be so sexy and that backside, oh my word,
so round and tight, incredibly erotic. He feels himself getting stiffer.
"Er sir you've got a big one! hee hee hee". This brings him out of his
trance to the sniggers circulating the classroom.


Red-faced he tells her "Priest put that bag in the bin!. You're be sure
to get a report sent home to your parents for such intolerable
behaviour". No she can't allow that, Mum and Dad would go spare. Why
should she be punished because of this stupid jerk. "No way sir I spent
the last of my pocket money on this" she says in defiance, facing him
with her hands on her hips.

Jefferson tries to take the bag from her but she grabs his hands. He is
surprised by how strong her grip is "must be all that hanging on
asymmetric bars or something" he thinks. She pushes against his hands,
he tries to resist but his forearms are forced backwards and down.
Jefferson tries to push back but is shocked to find that he can't. His
wrists and forearms ache from the pressure the girl is exerting, he
pushes back as hard as he can but he can't stop her. "What's wrong sir?.
Not strong enough to handle a 16 year old girl" she says. Actually she
will be 17 in a couple of weeks, but 16 sounded more humiliating. Sweat
dotted on his brow, every fibre of his arms straining he finds himself
forced to bend his knees to relieve the pain in his forearms. "How can
she be this strong?" he wonders "its not right". He looks into her
pretty face which is sweetly smiling. "On your knees slave!" she says
"bow to the superiority of a 16 year old girl". She pushes his arms
right back forcing him the final few inches to his knees.

She lets go of his hands and stands with her hands on her hips smiling
as she looks down upon him. The rest of the class are tittering. "You're
in deep trouble now Priest" Jefferson tells her as he starts to get to
his feet. Jackie was worried now, she had started this but didn't know
how to stop it. She had to stop him making trouble for her, but how?.
She was surprised that she was able to force a grown man to his knees.
She had beaten her older brother easily with her gymnast trained body
but could she take on a grown man?. She had no choice, she couldn't let
this creep ruin her life.

Jefferson was complete unprepared as he watched in amazement as the
young girl hurled herself into his body, pushing him to the ground. She
landed on top of him and started grappling with him. He was completely
unprepared for her strong upper body strength. The sleeves of her blouse
stretched taut over bulges in her arms that exerted an irresistible
power forcing his wrists to the floor above his head. He tried to resist
but was astonished to find that her arms were too strong for him. He
started to lurch and buck his body, her much lighter body unable to pin
his chest. Suddenly an awesome force pulled his legs out in opposite
directions, stopping his movements. He tried to press his legs together
again but with no effect. He couldn't believe that her legs could be as
strong as this, but he could feel their awesome irresistible power
forcing him spread-eagled. "You're a big strong man, surely you're not
going to let a 16 year old girl rip your legs right out of their
sockets" he heard her say. She continued to stretch him wide, he was
shocked to find that there was nothing he could do to stop her, her legs
were too strong. As she stretched him, her body pressed hard against
his. He felt her crotch and chest press against his body but he was in
too much pain for this to be exciting. Her pretty face came
provocatively close to his. He looked into her blue eyes as her legs
slowly tore him apart.

"Oh my god! look at the size of her thighs!""Her legs! they're like a
stallion's""Jeez look at them bulge!". Jefferson didn't need to look, he
could the power of her legs tearing him apart. The pain in his legs was
excruciating as he was stretched beyond his limit. He tried to push
inwards but he was no match for her legs. "I'm much more supple than
you. Let's do the splits" she said. "Argghh no no please stop it stop
it" he cried in agony as he legs were forced wider apart. The sinews in
his legs screamed in agony as they were stretched beyond his limits of
flexibility. "Please please no more" he begged. "Go on Jackie rip his
legs out" he heard someone call out. "No please" he cried in horror that
she might actually comply.

Suddenly she let go of his wrists and wrapped her arms tightly around
his neck. Was that a bicep growing into his throat, that's not possible
she's only 16!. He started to choke as the rock hard muscle dug deeper
and deeper into his neck. Somehow she found even more power in her legs
and continued to press his legs further apart. "Arggh! please you're
tearing me in two!" he cried, tears coming to eyes due to the riveting
pain in between his legs. "Let's limber you up a bit sir" Jackie said.
He tried to protest but her muscles choked off his voice. He was in no
doubt now that she had biceps, staggeringly big ones too by the way they
felt under his hand as he searched in vain for a chink with which he
could release himself. Strange strangling noises came from Jefferson as
she concentrate on the headlock, his face beginning to drain of colour.
Then she returned her attention to her legs laughing at how easy she
could stretch him. He could hardly breath, oh my god surely she can't be
this strong!, he could feel her choking off his air. The pain in his
legs became too much, he could feel the tendons tearing, red hot stabs
of pain shot lanced through his crotch. He wanted to scream but all that
came out was a horrible croak. He felt light headed and dizzy. Suddenly
she released him.

Jefferson lay still for a while gasping for air. Then he sat up and
massaged his aching legs, his face burning red as the class laughed at
him. He couldn't believe how a pre-teen girl had done this to him. Well
he was not going to stand for it. "Priest you're on report" he said, he
meant his voice to be commanding with authority but what came out was
shaky and feeble.

"Bad choice" he heard her say. Before he could move she had grabbed his
right arm and yanked it up high behind his back. Placing her right foot
in between his shoulder blades, she began to press down at the same time
as she pulled on his arm. "Shall I rip it off?" she asked the class.
"Yes" came back the unanimous yell. "No no please no" the grown man
cried as pain shot through his shoulder and across his back. "Pick on me
and I'll pick on you. It's as simple as that sir" she told him twisting
his arm for added pain. "ok ok you win just let me go" he pleaded.
Jackie stretched his arm to the max, twisting it as she did so, at the
same time she pushed hard, her quads bulging with power. "Noooo!" he
cried as his tendons burned with ripping pain.

Finally she released his arm and stood back. Jefferson got to his knees
nursing his tortured arm. The kids were laughing at him, jeering at him.
"What a wimp""Mr.Softy""Softy Jefferson". Something snapped inside of
him, he suddenly sprung at her. "You f'king bitch I'll pound you pretty
little face into mush" he yelled as her grabbed at her. Jackie tried to
get a good hold on his flailing arms, but he was all over the place.
With her arms on his chest, she pushed hard. There was a sound of fabric
tearing as Jefferson stumbled back. Jackie looked down at her blouse,
most of the buttons had been pulled off and there were big tears across
the shoulders.

Jefferson recoiled in fear at the look of anger in her eyes and the
strange fierceness in her face. She angrily took off the blouse and
flung it in Jefferson's face. "Look what you've done you stupid man!"
she yelled "that was brand new!. You're going to pay for that!".

Jefferson gaped at her upper body, stunned at its muscularity. Her neck
tapered down into her shoulders, the ends of which were capped with
large round muscle. Her body tapered down from broad shoulders to quite
a slender waist and out again to her hips. Her arms were vascular, veins
prominent stretched over biceps and triceps that bulged as she clenched
her fists in anger. Her bra covered breasts were small but her chest had
a cleavage of stirated muscle. Her abdominals were amazing, a washboard
of muscle, each slab separated from the next by deep cuts. Not only was
this young girl muscular but the definition put many amateur male
bodybuilders to shame.

He trembled as she tensed her arms in front of her, cords of muscle
rippling and bulging like some wild animal trying to get free. He didn't
want to be here, he couldn't stand the thought of those awful muscles
crushing and tormenting him. He lunged at her driving a punch into the
young girl's stomach. There was a loud slap as his knuckles met the rock
hard landscape of her abdomen. Jackie grunted but was not hurt.
Jefferson's hand stung from the impact, he looked up to see her smiling
at him. The class gasped loudly as their teacher drove another punch
into their classmate's gut. Again she grunted, a little louder than last
time, but the man had obviously hurt his hand against her sculpted
stomach. "Having problems are we sir?" she smiled sweetly. She was
shocked that a grown man had tried to punch a young girl, anger blazed
in her mind as she said "here let me show you". Jackie stepped forward
and drilled a punch deep into the man's gut. The air exploded from the
teacher's cheeks and he seemed to curl up around her fist, his face a
mask of agony.

Jackie moved in, turned her back towards him and put a headlock on him
and pulled him tight. Jefferson's jaw hurt as the young girl's strong
arms locked tighter. He grasped uselessly at her arms and felt her
rippling triceps and bulging biceps crushing his head. He reached under
her legs with one hand and grabbed her by the crotch and lifted her. He
had to admit the feel of her crotch in his hand felt good.

"You filthy pig!" Jackie yelled in outrage. Holding his head with one
arm, she began pummelling his face with the fist of the other. Wham Wham
Wham. Jefferson had to let go, her punches were devastating. He could
the blood pouring from his nose and mouth. Her punches had scrambled his
brain and in a daze he saw her triceps bulge as she tensed her right
arm, then her elbow rocketed back fast smashing into his gut. Badly
winded and bloodied, the man sank to his knees.

Jefferson caught his breath back. Suddenly he was aware that she had
straddled his head facing away from his body and clasped her powerful
thighs around his head. He tried to pull his head out but she squeezed
tight making escape impossible. "I'll teach you for attacking a poor
innocent defenceless schoolgirl" he just about her say over the pounding
of the blood in his ears. He reached down and tried tugging at her
ankles, but it was like trying budge steel posts. He saw spots before
his eyes and his vision blurred. Moving his hands up to her sock covered
calves, he felt how large and muscular they were. He was ashamed, how
could such a pretty young girl exert such terrifying pressure with her
legs. He moved his hand to her thighs hoping to find someway of easing
the awesome crush threatening to split his skull. He felt soft warm skin
drawn taut over the rock hard muscle. Astonishment turned to fear as he
ran his hands over her huge quadriceps, each muscle group clearly
defined and bulging awesomely. He was sure he could hear his skull creak
about to give way under the awful pressure. His hands encountered her
bulging outer thighs. Then he felt them expand enormously as a terrible
surge of power sent his head spinning in sheer agony. Scream, scream all
he could do was could scream till he was hoarse as the mighty legs of
the 16 year old took him to the brink of blackness then she let him go.

Jefferson fell to the floor on his back, openly weeping, the worse
headache of his life pounding through his skull. A weight on his chest
brings him back to reality. The blonde girl has sat on his chest with
her back towards his face. She takes hold of his legs and begins to pull
them and back. "I saw this on telly once" she tells him. As his legs are
pulled back hard, his diaphragm is cramped so bad that he can hardly
breathe. "Please Jackie no" he gasps as he watches her shapely backside
in front of his face as she slides closer and closer towards his face as
she pulls his legs back further and further. "Kiss my arse" he hears her
say before she lowers herself to sit on his face. He can't breathe at
all now, her backside is smothering his nose and mouth and his diaphragm
is cramped. Panic sets in as he fails to find any air, he feels himself
slipping towards unconsciousness. Just at the last moment she releases
him and rolls to one side smiling as he gasps for breath.


"Poor sir, beaten by a little girl" Jackie teased "Here let me give you
a cuddle". He looked up in alarm as the girl wrapped her muscular arms
around his neck. He lifted his body trying to get away. Bad mistake,
this allowed her to snake her legs around him, her muscular thighs
swallowing his waist. He felt her large calves clasp him tightly across
his lower back, locking him in position. The vice-like grip of her
strong legs dug into his waist as she slowly exerted the pressure.
"Nooooo!" Jefferson cried as he tried to twist and turn but his body was
held firm between her powerful thighs and her biceps pressed against his
throat. He knew it was no use, the only thing he could do was to lie
there, struggling for breath, imprisoned by this young girl. She built
up the pressure slowly savouring every moment knowing that the hated
teacher could not withstand her. "Arrhhh" he was forced to use what
little breath he had to cry out as he felt his innards crushed between
her bulging thighs. "Not so tough now are we sir?" she taunted "picking
on little girls". Stretching her body, dispite the awkward angle, Jackie
powered down a final surge of energy through her legs. She could feel
the hated teacher try to buck and arch as her thighs constricted his
abdomen to the point she felt something was going to give.

She released him and watched as he lay face down panting for breath and
sobbing. "Big boys don't cry" she taunted. The class laughed aloud.
"Leave me alone" he cried. The pre-teen man destroyer replied by jumping
onto his back. "No no please" he cried in alarm but it was too late.
Jackie sitting facing his legs, grabbed his legs and pulled them right.
"No please" the teacher cried like a baby as the young gymnast bent his
body backwards. Her arms rippled as she threatened to turn him into a
human pretzel. Within seconds he was blubbering as Jackie poured on
maximum pressure. "Please please you're going to break my back" he

Stilling holding his legs, Jackie got off his back and started dragging
him on his stomach around the room. Jefferson, tears streaking down his
cheeks turned red with shame as the class jeered and laughed as he was
dragged past them. She dragged him to the front of the class by his
desk. Twisting his legs, she forces him onto his back. "Get on that
desk" she orders. "Please Jackie leave me alone" he whimpers.

Hitching her skirt up and with her legs astride, she moves into a semi-
crouch opening her legs wide and raising herself onto her toes.
Jefferson gawps at the large diamonds of calve muscle, the thick bulging
hamstrings and the muscular curves along the top of her legs. His eyes
follow the thick cords of her inner thighs to where they meet at her
crotch. He finds the sight incredibly erotic as well as frightening.
Maintaining the pose she stretches out her arms to either side of her
body and starts to bend them at the elbow up towards her head. From her
slender arms, large firm biceps grow slowly until they peak like two
small mountains on her arms, her triceps growing in the opposing
direction. She flexes and relaxes several times pumping her arms up.
Each time, her biceps seem to get bigger and harder. Finally she holds
the double biceps pose, still flexing her calves and inner thighs and
tensing her washboard abs. From his position on the floor she looks like
a female colossus bulging with power packed muscle. "Get onto the desk
or I'll cuddle you again" she says. The thought of those bulging arms
and legs wrapped around his body again terrifies him and he quickly
scrabbles onto the desk. "Please Jackie don't hurt me" he pleads, crying
with fear.

Smiling she climbs on top of him and plants her backside on his face to
the amusement of the class. "Fart in his face Jackie!" someone shouts.
"Pee on him" "Crap on him" says another. There are loud gasps as they
see her undo his trousers and dish out his manhood.

Jackie is uncertain about this. Maybe she's taken this too far, but she
can't back out now. Physically dominating him wouldn't be enough, he
would recover and then report her or make other sorts of difficulties
for her. No, she had to make sure that he never bothered her again, she
had to enslave him!.

Sliding off to the floor over his head, she grabbed his arms and pulled
him until his head and upper body dangled over the edge of the table.
She then clasped his head firmly between her legs and bent over.

Jefferson was shocked when she exposed him to the class, then he was
scared as she shoved his head between her legs. The expected crushing
squeeze didn't happen, she simply held him firmly. He felt the bulging
hamstrings marvelling at how sexy they felt. Then she bent over and he
saw her lovely tight arse above him. They really were very sexy, he
reached up to touch them and felt them turn into rock hard balls as she
flexed her glutes for him. She flexed them several times seeing the
stimulating effect it was having on him. "er sir's got a stiffy" someone

"No!" Jefferson cried as a warm wetness engulfed his rod. "Jackie no you
musn't!" he cried and was rewarded with a powerful burst of pressure
around his head from her legs. "Oh my god""gross""Jeezus" cries of
astonishment came from the class. He had girlfriends in the past who had
given him blowjobs, but they were nothing like this. Somehow the young
girl was skilled in applying the minimal contact to gain the maximum
result. Her tongue flicked, licked and tickled everywhere. His cries for
her to stop soon gave way of moans of pleasure as her mouth and tongue
drove away all thoughts of the illegality of the situation. Massaging
the sides of his member, she took him all the way into her throat. "Oh
Jackie oh Jackie oh Jackie" he moaned lustfully. He tried to buck his
hips in rhyme with her motion but a skull shattering crush from her legs
forced him to stop. Sensing he was about to cum, she gripped the base of
his rod and pressed her fingers tight against the urethra, preventing
him from cumming. The pressure built up against her fingers, but she
hang on tight as she worked on him some more. "Please Jackie please let
me cum" he moaned loudly drawing giggles and guffaws from the class. He
had never felt so big before. She worked him tirelessly, denying him the
release he wanted so badly. "Please I have to cum so bad" he pleaded
"I've got to". She shut him up with another squeeze of her strong legs
and continued working him. He felt so hard that he thought the skin
would rip. The pressure in his sacs was so painful and his balls hurt
bad. Several of the boys were jerking themselves off in full view of
everyone and some of the girls were shifting about uncomfortably in
their seats mesmerised by the remarkable events happening before their
pre- teenage eyes. Jackie sucked and stroked him for another quarter of
an hour while he was in absolute agony from the denial of release. Then
she released his head from her leggy prison and stood at arm's length.
She released him. "nghgh nghgh nhhghg arrr arr arrrRRRRR". His body
bucked and rocked as though someone had passed a thousand volts through
his body. His cream shot high into the air in huge spurts. "Oh my
god""gross!""Jeez that one nearly hit the ceiling".

Spent he hangs back limply over the table's edge panting for breath,
absolutely drained of energy. He feels himself dragged back onto the
table and looks up to see the 16 year old domantrix kneeling astride his
chest flexing her biceps. "You're mine now sir" she tells him and opens
her mouth into an "O" and runs her tongue around it. The effect is
instant, he is shocked to find himself stiffening. He wants her so much.
He leans his head forward into her crotch and starts nuzzling her

Shocked, at first Jackie doesn't know what to do. Then as his tongue
probes underneath her knickers, shock turns to anger and disgust. "Don't
do that" she yells. He feels her hold his head and stretch her legs out
either side. He thinks she is getting more comfortable so she can enjoy
his worship of her. Then an awesome crush envelops his head, blurring
his vision instantly. He can hear the pounding of his own heartbeat in
his ears as the ferocious grip tightens further. Every sinew of her body
tightens as she crushes down on the man who just tried to inviolate her.
She sees his eyes glaze over then close and he goes limp between her
legs. Breathing heavily opens her legs to let the limp unconscious form
of her teacher flop back onto the desk.

Getting off him she reaches for his jacket, takes out his wallet and
removes some notes. "That's for the blouse he owes me" she says
challenging her classmates with a glare. No-one says anything, no-one
dare. Most were stunned at this young amazon standing before them with
more muscle than most of the boys in the room will ever have in their
lives. Others were trembling at the thought of who would be next?. ***
Jefferson was forced to go back to work. He had already taken three days
off, anymore would need a doctor's certificate and he couldn't bear the
thought of admitting that he had been beaten and sexually assaulted by a
16 year old girl. The next two days were hell, kids would snigger as he
passed, and he found himself darting around a corner when he saw Jackie
Priest approaching.

Things seemed better following the weekend break, but then the afternoon
came around. It was class 12c! he was sweating with fear, he wanted to
go home, but the way his head was glaring at him reminded him that he
could never reveal the truth without incriminating himself.

He entered the room and waited too ashamed to look up as the class filed
in. Then he was aware of Jackie in her school uniform approaching his
desk. He rose from his chair and nervously backed against the blackboard
(except it was green!). She walks around to the front of the desk and
places her hands on it. Slowly she lifted herself off the ground,
keeping her body and legs straight. Leaning forward on her straight arms
she brings her torso horizontal to the desk. Then she swings her legs
forward either side of her legs. Her arms block her crotch but the sight
of her wide open legs stirs him. Maintaining her body weight on her arms
she swings her legs back and raises her body fully upright supported
only by her arms. "My god no wonder she has strong arms" he thinks as
she holds the position as steady as a rock. Her pleated skirt falls
down, the sight of her rock hard glutes exciting him further. Swinging
back down again she slowly threads her legs in between her arms and
brings them up held straight in front of her face. She holds the
position allowing him to admire her sexy shapely legs, the bulging
hamstrings and her glutes. Finally she opens her legs in opposite
directions forming an inverted "V".

The sight of her legs splayed open with her crotch fully presented is
too erotic for him. He steps forwards towards the girl, badly aching for
her and wanting to sink himself into that lovely crotch. "Oh Jackie oh
god you're wonderful" he moans as he runs his hands over her socks
feeling the large muscled calves beneath them. He strokes her hamstrings
trembling at their obvious strength. With trembling hands he traced her
inner thigh muscles to her crotch.

"Oh god Jackie I want you" he moans as he strokes her crotch ,
generating titters and guffaws from the classroom. Suddenly she raised
herself higher and encloses his head within her lethal thighs. "No
Jackie please" he begs quaking in fear as he feels trapped by her
incredibly defined legs. He looked at her face, she opened her mouth
slightly running the tip of her tongue around it. "Nghgh nnggg nggg" he
creamed himself. Spent, he looks into her blue eyes and sees fire. "I
thought you would have learnt your lesson last week" she tells him in a
stern voice "obviously I must teach you again not to touch me without my
permission". He panics as he feels her thighs bulge with raw,
unadulterated power. The pressure is terrible and blinds his sight
immediately in a blurred haze. He grasps uselessly at her legs feeling
her awesome quadriceps and hamstrings. He cries pitifully sobbing in
fear as he knows her muscular strength far exceeds his. Skull splitting
pressure clamps down hard. He wails in terror fearing that she will
crush his skull like an eggshell. Once again the 16 year old girl
crushes the fully grown man into oblivion.

Jackie Priest never got a bad mark in Geography ever again. -


Like Mother, Like Daughter
By wbill_99_1999

Jill gave a contented sigh; it had been a perfect late summer's day. She sat
on her patio in the evening light and surveyed the garden. The roses had been
good this year, the greenfly absent and just enough rain to keep the roses
blooming. The shadows were lengthening and there was just enough light to make
out the individual trees at the end of the garden.

The big back lawn was empty, except for Rachel, her daughter. Jill chuckled to
herself and shook her head - like mother, like daughter she thought. Rachel
was straddling the boy next door, pinning him in a schoolgirl pin, and had
been doing so for the last hour. At the age of 15 she was a slightly chubby
girl with a pretty face and long dark hair which she flicked back from her
face from time to time as she rode her victim. At the moment there was very
little movement from either victim or victor; Rachel was seated high on the
boys chest with his arms pinned in the crook of her legs and her hands on her
hips. Jill loved the way her shoulders slumped when she did this. The appeal
for her as a spectator was in the angles that her daughter's body made as she
sat on her victim: it was like having an appealing piece of sculpture in the
garden. She chuckled to herself again. It had started with a scuffle over a
ball and then developed into a fight. The boy had no idea how strong Rachel
was and how she could manipulate situations like this to her advantage. Her
daughter was a brown belt at Judo and as she had explained to her mother, 'I
use it to attack - not defend'. Jill realised that she didn't even know the
boy's name, but that didn't matter really. He and his family, or rather he and
his father - there appeared to be no mother - had only moved in only two or
three months ago and she had hardly spoken more than a brief 'good morning' to
either of them.

Out on the lawn, there was a sudden movement. The boy had started to buck and
kick his legs; Rachel spread her knees and leaned forward to avoid the
threshing limbs. She rode out the upheaval expertly. Jill smiled again. The
boy had tried that earlier in the straddling - without success; Rachel had
merely captured his legs and locked them under her arms, bending forward until
the resistance had stopped. This had been followed by the torture phase;
Rachel had placed her knees on his biceps and slid them to and fro accompanied
by much yelling [from the boy] and much giggling [from Rachel]. This was
followed by a face sit and a bit of rib tickling, which had also caused a lot
of noise and killed any further serious resistance. Mind you, she had to work
hard initially to subdue the boy, her arms had kept the boys wrists pinned to
the grass, with his arms under her shins for some time until his strength
ebbed away and she could sit upright. It had been easy to then lock the arms
in the crook of her legs and leave her own arms free for whatever. Jill was
impressed at her daughter's patience. Not for her the quick victory and an
early submission; there was a process that had to be undertaken - a ritual
almost, with the end result the subjugation of the male that made any further
conquests easier. Meanwhile the figures on the lawn had stopped moving again;
Rachel's legs had closed and her thighs were again clamped tightly around the
boys head. Sitting upright, she folded her arms and flicked her hair back from
her face.

Jill leant back against her cushion. Rachel brought all her boyfriends home
and Jill had become quite used to them being dealt to on the back lawn -
'Rachel's Arena' she called it. She looked forward to these sessions immensely
and always made sure that she was home if possible. There had been about 3
victims this year and the lovely thing was, male pride being what it is, that
none of the boys had warned the others about it.

It was also intriguing that, apart from one boy, they all returned for more.

It had been like that that when Jill was young too. Most of the boys in her
neighbourhood were in her thrall and at a secret place in the woods near her
home; Jill introduced them to the joys of the schoolgirl pin. Like Rachel, she
had learned Judo when she was a young teen, but it was means only to an end.
The Judo-gi annoyed her immensely and once she had gained her green belt, she
felt that she had enough skills to assist her in the real objective - boy
straddling. She had learned a few leg sweeps and a basic hip throw and also a
few debilitating holds to kill resistance - the arm bar was a favourite and
with her strong legs and plump thighs, the head scissor or the body scissor
was sufficient to put her in control. If you really wanted to capture their
minds, then a surreptitious tickle or rub of their groin usually did the
trick. But you had to do the hard work first; it was no use trying to straddle
someone straight up. They had to realise that if they did escape from the
straddle, then Jill was certain to recapture them and re-apply those holds
that caused them so much pain. So escape was then viewed as futile.

Her mind drifted back to notable conquests over the years; top of the "hit
parade" was the rebarbative Barry. She had lured him to her forest lair, when
she was eighteen years old and there she had dealt to him - how she had dealt
to him. Jill had made it last all one afternoon; she had broken him with a
head scissors and when she mounted him to begin the straddling, he had a
pleading look on his face that had sent shivers through her body.

Her sitting lasted most of the afternoon; the tight satin shorts that she
habitually wore always made her thighs look immense and it was this
intimidation that made most males realise that they were no match for her. How
she had straddled that afternoon! She had tortured him for long periods, her
fertile imagination devising all sorts of torments that she filed away for
future use. She had, for the first time, orgasm after orgasm as she worked on
him, and with amazement realised that only one of these had involved sitting
on his face, which normally was her main means of gratification. Barry had
cried, shrieked, pleaded and begged but she was indomitable and that afternoon
in that sylvan glade she had finally learned that her motivation was sexual
after all. It was the start of her real domination career. To complete the
humiliation, when she finally released him, she had picked him up in a
fireman's carry and took him back to the road, where she dumped him sobbing on
the grass verge and walked away without so much as a backward glance.

Jill had always been strong. It was in her genes: her mother had always been
the one who had opened stubborn lids on jars and wielded the axe to chop wood.
Neither of them were big women but they had full breasted figures, wide
shoulders and powerful thighs with shapely legs. Their raven hair was also a
feature and all these characteristics had been handed on to Rachel. Jill was
not sure whether her mother was a straddler, but once, when she was mounted
contentedly astride a victim on their back lawn, her mother had stopped and
looked for some time with a definite glint in her eye - perhaps she had been
recalling past triumphs.

Jill's reverie continued. There had also been Roger, another notable conquest.
They had met on a beach and there, in some sand hills, away from prying eyes
they had fought. He was a challenge for Jill, as he was a bit taller than her
and had a good physique. As usual she had goaded him into fighting; her usual
method was to modestly allude to how strong she was and just give a little
hint here and there of her conquests. It was usually the boy who made the
first move with a statement such as 'no girl could do that to me'. Once that
had been uttered, the outcome was inevitable - they would fight. Roger was
strong, but he had no idea how to wrestle; Jill had managed to trip him and
after a tense struggle on the ground, whilst they rolled over and over, Jill
had managed to apply a grapevine, and with her leg and thigh strength she had
soon made him yelp. Propped up on her arms, she kept the hold for some time
and staring down into his face, noticed for the first time the defiance that
had blazed in his eyes was now tinged with a little fear. Releasing the
grapevine, she moved up his body. Predictably, he raised his hips in an
attempt to unseat her and with the speed of a striking snake, she lashed her
legs around his midriff and falling sideways, locked her ankles to complete
the body scissors.

Resting on one elbow, she poured on the power. Roger threshed and squirmed,
moaning loudly, his feet beating a tattoo on the sand. She had held there for
some time before she broke him. He was having difficulty breathing and his
abdomen had gone to mush under Jill's thighs. She had unlocked her legs and
knelt beside him, contemplating his red face and the marks that her legs had
made across his belly. Jill remembered that she had been wearing her black
bikini - modest by today's standards - and she had adjusted her pants before
giving a contented sigh and mounting her throne. It's funny, she thought, how
little details from so long ago still stick in your mind. She had straddled
Roger and sat high on his chest, pinning his arms under her shins and clamping
her formidable thighs around his head. He had to look at her, his head was
held in a vice.

It was at that stage, Jill remembered, that she gave her little speech. It was
basically an explanation of how things would proceed from then on. There would
be some torture, not continuous, but little "outbreaks" as Jill described
them, there would be lots of humiliation and an explanation of the word
"submit", on which, Jill was totally hung up and would have to be repeated
time and time again by the helpless male. The main thing that she emphasised
was the length of time that she would be keeping him there. It was then that
the look of fear in their eyes would intensify and there would usually be a
desperate attempt to escape. It was never successful; Jill always rode them
expertly, spreading her knees wide for balance, while they exhausted their
energy, eventually subsiding back to the ground again, securely pinned. That
little speech was always so effective. Jill used to practise it in her
bedroom, trying different voice inflections and gestures; the tone sometimes
dulcet and reasonable, sometimes harsh and threatening. It was after the
speech that the first of her orgasms had usually occurred; not that her victim
knew - he perhaps may have seen her bite her bottom lip and if he was staring
intently, noticed that her eyes were a little glazed, but that was all.

Roger's beating had stayed in Jill's memory for another reason too. After some
of her standard torture routines had produced a satisfactory amount of noise
from her victim, Jill, on a whim, had sat up and whirling around suddenly, sat
on Roger's face, facing his feet. Wriggling around a little to get
comfortable, she pinned his arms back under her shins. She was amazed to see
that he had a very impressive erection which was straining the front of his
blue swim shorts; Jill had been intrigued, he was obviously excited about what
was happening to him. She reached out and ran her index finger up and down the
length of his shaft; there was a muffled groan from under her and Roger
ejaculated violently, the stain spreading quickly across his shorts and
leaking out from under the waist band. The sight did for her and Jill came as
well, her face becoming slack with passion and she pinched her nipples
violently. Shortly after, resuming her normal position on his upper chest,
Jill realised that she had not really understood about men. In future she was
going to have to ask more questions before the fights began - to find out what
motivated them and then vary her routines to suit. Yes, she remembered Roger
with a great deal of affection. That had started her on a real journey of pain
and pleasure.

The passing parade of faces continued. The young man who had insulted her in
the park; she had pinned him for ages whilst dozens of people stopped to
watch. One woman had got her address and sent some flowers, congratulating her
on behalf of women everywhere. There was the middle aged uncle who had been
dealt to at a family barbeque - his wife had showered her with kisses and then
asked for some straddling lessons. Jill's first husband, Rachel's father,
after a very chaste engagement, found out on his wedding night what lay in
store for him. She had carried him over the threshold of their hotel room and
after taking off her wedding dress to reveal a black leather corset with no
crotch, she had tossed him over her hip onto the bed, where he remained on his
back for the rest of the night. She had introduced him to the delights of
cunnilingus and had ridden his cock until the poor man had cried "no more".
No, my dear, she had told him, the proper term is "I submit". They had a great
marriage after that. He held Jill in awe, and made sure that he was
surreptitiously watching when she fought. Her reputation had spread through
certain circles and she often received assignments from women who wanted
sundry boyfriends, husbands etc given "correctional" training. There were
discreet enquiries too, from male submissives who wanted to sample the
delights of her powerful thighs and ample derriere. All this provided a nice
source of supplementary income, but now, at the mature age of 52, Jill had
ceased these activities in favour of providing occasional special treats for
herself. Like tomorrow night for instance; that nice man at the garden centre,
obviously widowed, as she was, and who looked at her hungrily when she went to
shop. He had summoned up enough courage to ask her out for drinks and dinner.
Well, we'll see, she thought.

Jill stretched and yawned. Down on the lawn Rachel had climbed off the boy
next door, and offering her hand, pulled him to his feet. It was now almost
too dark to see. Rachel led the boy proudly across the lawn towards the house;
he was stumbling slightly and as they drew near, Jill could see that Rachel
had applied a cunning finger grip on him. The Police call it the 'come along'
hold. Her impressive chest thrust out proudly, Rachel led him across the
patio. Jill smiled at her, she was so like she had been at that age; the long
dark hair; the creamy complexion; the tight black shorts, which showed off her
powerful, firm, young thighs; the cheeky grin. The look on Rachel's face was
sheer pride as she led her victim inside the house. The boy, snivelling
slightly, looked firmly at the ground.

That's the way, that's the way, thought Jill. A man should look exactly like
that after a straddling. She had seen it so many times, boys, young men, older
men - anyone who had spent time under the body of a dominating girl or woman.
Jill wondered what his name was - she hoped Rachel knew; to her mind it wasn't
right to straddle someone without knowing their name. Besides, how could you
give your "speech from the throne" as it were, without using the victims name
several times during the course of it? The humiliation was more personal when
you used the name. She thought about that boy from next door: I wonder if
there is a "Mrs Next Door"? If there isn't perhaps I should invite the boy and
his father over for tea. Just fancy, we might have them both pinned on the
back lawn, now wouldn't that be something, we could even swap partners for a
while. Jill strolled off the patio on to the lawn and walked along the side of
the house - this is wrong, I'm being nosy, she thought.

The light was on in Rachel's bedroom. Jill strolled up the window. The drapes
were pulled, but there was a small chink in the curtains: Jill pressed her
face to the window and looked in. The boy was stretched out on the bed naked,
his knees up and a small pillow wedged under his buttocks. Rachel, also naked
was sitting on his face, her hips undulating slowly. Jill watched the play of
the muscles in her back and hips as she moved; a feeling of pride swept over
her. Like mother, like daughter - what more could a mother ask for.


Ivan was machine-gunning the speed bag with such intensity that he did not immediately hear his big sister enter. Hearing her whimper, he turned to see her limping in, scraped and bruised, her shirt torn. "What happened?" he gasped, "did you get in a fight with the whole football team?"

"No," Amy replied, "It was that Felicity again."

"What is she, crazy?" Ivan exclaimed.

Slumping heavily into the easy chair, Amy replied, "She thinks I stole her fancy new phone. Or at least that's her latest excuse. She says she'll beat me worse every week until I give it back, but I've never even seen it. She threw me around last week and I thought I could handle her. When she confronted me after school today I fought as hard as I could, but she's too strong. She beat me until I couldn't even move and then walked away laughing. I don't know if I can go to school tomorrow after that."

Becoming cold and serious in a way that Amy had never seen before, Ivan said, "Don't worry, I'll take care of Facility."

What are you going to do, Ivan, tell the principal?" Be sure you get the name right, she's Felicity, not Facility."

Angrily, Ivan replied, "I'm not going to the principal, and I called her Facility because I'm going to find her after school and put her Facilities out of order. She'll never bother you again."

"Oh no," exclaimed Amy looking worried. "I know you want to help, but I can't stand the thought of my little brother getting beat up. Felicity is a year older than you, she's bigger than you, and she's the toughest girl in the class. They won't admit it, but I think most of the boys are afraid of her."

Ivan dropped to the floor, cracked off twenty pushups, and jumped to his feet. He flexed his arms and his biceps stood out. As he squeezed harder a vein appeared. He switched to a "most muscular" pose and then straightened up to show his six-pack abs. Finally, he smiled as he made his pecs dance. Amy thought he looked like a miniature bodybuilder and her worries eased as she regarded her brother's display with swelling pride. Her thoughts echoed Ivan's as he said, "I'm a man now and I'm not afraid of a mere girl. By this time tomorrow I'll have put Facility out of order for good."

The mention of Felicity snapped Amy back into a more worried state of mind. "You're only 12 ... you're only beginning to be a man. And she's tough – maybe we should just go to the principal's office together and tell them what happened. She'll be busted and we'll be safe."

"Don't you want to get even with her, Amy? Facility needs to be taught a lesson and I'll be the teacher." Ivan began pumping his biceps again, touching the vein as it became more prominent You're my sister and I'll protect you."

"I love you Ivan and I'm proud of you, but what if she hurts you? I'd feel horrible doing that to you."

Ivan began to lose patience: "Look, Amy, you're a girl. What are girls? They're soft. Do you want to see my muscles again? They're hard. Hard beats soft. And you're as old as Facility. When was the last time you beat me? It's so long ago that I can't even remember. Just let me take care of you and put your Facility out of order."

Laughing, Amy simply said, "I love you. She's not my Facility, but I sooooo want to see you put her out of order."

As school let out the next day, Amy was comforted by the presence of her muscular younger brother. Crossing the park, they encountered a smirking Felicity: "Look who's coming. The nasty bitch brought along a miniature bodyguard – What a joke!"

Ivan hissed at Amy, "Go home!" She hesitated. "NOW!" he ordered. "I won't be long."

He turned to Felicity. She was taller than him with a sturdy build that looked rather thick but not fat. She wore a t-shirt and shorts that highlighted her feminine shape. Definitely a girl. Hard beats soft. She took on a menacing pose and snarled, "I don't have time to mess with babies. You've got to the count of 5 to run away. One . . ."

His 12 year old brain feeling a swirl of emotions, tense, angered, and confused, Ivan ripped off his t-shirt to show Facility that he was no baby. The feel of his muscles flexing as he raised his arms gave Ivan renewed confidence. "Two" came her smirking reply. "What a little worm . . . Three."

"This was too much," thought Ivan, "She'd be on the ground begging before she got to five." He charged at her. She easily side-stepped Ivan and tripped him. She didn't even follow up. She just taunted him. Ivan scrambled to his feet and put up his fists. Felicity just walked toward him, smirking, arms at her sides. Felicity had no chance to react as Ivan connected a solid left to her ribcage followed by a right to her jaw. She fell back with a yelp and, for a split second, Ivan thought his job was already done. But Amy was back in an instant, face contorted with rage.

This time it was Felicity who charged, but she didn't miss. Ivan went down, landing under Felicity's heavier body. He kicked and pounded her, slamming his elbow or knee into her surprisingly unyielding body whenever he could. Felicity seemed immune to his blows, with only the occasional grunt betraying a solid strike. As she grabbed his wrists, Ivan was shocked at the strength of her grip and even more shocked that she seemed to have no trouble controlling his thrashing arms and body. She giggled as she worked herself into a schoolgirl pin and began a painful bouncing on his stomach and chest. Ivan struggled to free his hands, to roll, and to get his leg around her neck to knock her off. She reached back, hooking her arms behind Ivan's knees. She seemed off-balance for a second and Ivan thought he could pull her over backward, but she quickly reasserted herself and forced his legs painfully forward.

If the physical punishment weren't bad enough, Felicity was constantly taunting and teasing Ivan and she spit in his face. Suddenly, she reared back and pulled herself to her feet, and Ivan along with her. He jerked a hand free and threw a wild punch at her face. She partly blocked it and his fist merely grazed her. She reached to control his free hand as he swung again. He tried to avoid her arm and his fist slammed into her breast. Felicity yelped and both of her hands instinctively moved to her painful chest for a split second. For that same split second, Ivan, embarrassed, froze.

Felicity cursed and snarled and threw a punch directly at Ivan's face. He reacted surprisingly quickly, ducking and covering as Felicity's fist punched only air. Still low, Ivan blasted his fist into Felicity's belly. She rode the blow with no apparent effect and instantly returned the blow to Ivan's firm little six-pack. He doubled over, feeling ill and Felicity drove her knee into his face. She caught him as he began to fall and began to punish him all over, punching him in the shoulder, the chest, the belly as Ivan desperately struggled to fend off her blows. She grabbed his shoulders and threw him like a ragdoll into the heavy bark of an oak tree, tearing gashes in his bare back as he fell.

Ivan's limbs were too heavy to move as Felicity approached him, straightening and smoothing her clothes. She stood there with one hand on her hip, that arrogant smirk again on her face. "You want some more? Still think you're tough, muscle boy? " She drew her fist back as if to throw a punch. "No? The muscle boy is a wimp!" she spat. "Whenever you want to find out what kind of a worm you really are, you know where to find me. By the way, I know your sister didn't take my phone. It's just so fun beating her up. I didn't know I'd get two for the price of one."

With that, Felicity smiled sweetly, tuned, and walked off swaying her hips in an exaggerated way as if to say "I'm not only tougher than you'll ever be, muscle boy, I'm twice as sexy as your big sister.


Tina's Tryout
It was one of my first mixed sexfights, where they put all the rookies together and just make us wrestle around awkwardly while everyone kinda laughs. Her name was Tina and she stuck in my memory because of how freaky she was. Most girls who sexfight are actually very prudish; they like to have their way and typically are the "hot" girls who are either total whores or the fitness dykes who just hate dudes and do this for the money-since chicks make twenty times what the guys get.

We were both eighteen but while I was a scrawny 5'8" dweeb she was this thick, busty amazon. Tina stood 6'1" with long curly brown hair that went down to her midback. She was chubby but not like she had a gut, just thick thighs and a big butt not to mention her enormous E cups. For these "newbie" matches, they make us come out from separate dressing rooms; we march out across this like runway that leads directly to the ring while the arena is full of empty chairs except for the two dozen or so judges sitting on either side in the front row. We stand on the apron on opposite sides of the ring and do the quick introduction, just name and age, wearing street clothes over top of our swimsuits. I nervously went first and did an awkward one-legged hop out of my jeans, revealing my navy blue speedo which at the time I felt super embarrassed to even be wearing since I looked like a damn twig; not exactly in great shape but I did a funny little hulk hogan flex anyway-it got a few laughs, which I heard help, since everybody is always trying to be king badass or whatever.

Tina was wearing a white tank top and this little denim tennis skirt. She whipped off her top and undid a zipper on the side of her skirt, stepping out in a tiny green bikini with white polka dots. Her tits were friggin huge and nearly popping out, as was my erection when we were told to step through the ropes.

This was nerve wracking because we were being directed, like as if auditioning for a play. First of all they told us to do a collar and elbow lock up then to wrestle; only three main judges spoke. I can't remember their names but it was a black guy, some old white woman, and a dude with a lisp I called GayBoy; he was the most vocal of the bunch. So we walk in, to the center, and tie up; we wait for a moment, expecting a bell or something but GayBoy just says "Go already!" Tina obeys and practically whips me off my feet, flinging me around in an awkward kind of sidewalk slam; as she just picked me up around my waist and fell to the side. With her weight landing across my chest though it kinda hurt I was trying to slip free but Tina rolled herself over onto my hips, keeping me pinned.

I was bucking trying to get her off me and reached up, on accident, and my hand pulled away her bikini top; freeing her one left boob. I was more shocked than she was, Tina didn't even try to cover up, just grabbed my wrist and secured it to the mat.

We kinda sat like that for a minute or so, just her trying to hold me down and not doing anything, until Gayboy asked if she was going to do something else. Tina leaned down and while keeping my wrist held, she used her fingernails to lift the other cup of her bikini top, exposing both of her big, soft round tits. She looked anxious for a second then took a deep breath before scootching up on my chest and smothering me with her boobs. They were big, heavy and sweaty and while it sounds like my dream, having a chubby girl basically titty fuck my face, I was really having trouble breathing. She would adjust them a little bit, I guess trying to more efficiently kill me with her breasts but she moved a little to the right and I was able to not only free my mouth but capture her right nipple in the process.

Tina froze, gasping audibly, as her whole body trembled while I made lewd sucking sounds as my cheeks hollowed out to suck her fat titty. I was able to glance up and though her chest was blocking most of my view, I saw her eyes roll up in the back of her head as she moaned "Damn." Feeling her grip weaken, I pulled my hands free and she barely tried to get them back; it was like all the fight went out of her. I grabbed her left boob with my right hand, tweaking her nipple-Tina rewarded me by moaning louder and panting like a cat in heat-as I pulled her long brown hair with my other hand, tilting her head back so she couldn't try to smother me again.

My fingers kneaded her fleshy orb and I suckled on her like an infant until finally Tina began panting louder and louder until she shook hard, as though she had a chill, and made a high pitch squeal. That's when I heard a buzzer like from a basketball game when the first half is over. I released Tina who slowly got to her feet, though her legs looked shaky. We went back to our sides of the ring, the ones where our clothes were piled, as the judges grilled Tina. They each confirmed that she did have an orgasm; Tina admitted she's been able to cum from just having her big tits sucked sometimes. I couldn't be sure from where I was standing but I think she blushed when she said it. They praised her strength, at flinging me around like a rag doll, which she smiled brightly at.

I forget the rest but nobody even gave me an "atta boy" or "good job." Even so, when they started the next round I was still pitching a tent. They told us to freestyle grapple, not using the lock up technique, so I was trying to avoid getting near her freakishly strong grip, but she kinda danced on the balls of her feet, making those huge boobs jiggle hypnotically. She had been told to start the match without her top, since even though she had taken it off herself, I did initiate the loss of clothing. She managed to get me near the corner and we locked up again; despite me trying to evade her Tina's reach was incredible. She got me in an arm bar which she turned into an arm wringer; it felt like my shoulder was going to pop out, as I was kind of bent over as she held my wrist up high in the air with one arm. Tina swatted me on my ass twice, eliciting yelps of more shock than pain. I tried grabbing her leg with my free arm while bent over but she was too far away; I paid for my actions by receiving a kick to the ribs which, while might've been a tap for her, it felt like I gotten hit with a baseball bat. I dropped to one knee and she picked me up with a handful of hair then pulled me in by my arm, for like an irish whip, but ran me face first, smacking into her big tits; it was a breast-line as her big mammary hit me harder than a boxing glove.

Tina ran to the ropes a did a hulk hogan style leg drop across my chest that knocked all the wind out of me; felt like I had been shot as I lay there gasping for air. I was still reeling when she pulled me up by my hair again and got me in an abdominal stretch; I wanted to cry out in pain since it felt like she was tearing me in half but I was still coughing to trying to breathe. I stiffened as I felt Tina's hand encircle my cock; she started jacking me over my briefs and in just a couple strokes I was moaning. Her hand worked me over like magic, pumping me with gentle strokes; I tried to pull her hand off, grabbing her wrist but she started giving me little twisting jacks.

"Cum for me, big boy," Tina began chanting and after a few seconds I did; staining the front of my briefs dark with my jizz as that buzzer went off again.

The judges again complimented Tina; I thought I was going to be ignored again until the female judge noticed I still had an erection-chalk it up to youthful exuberance or the thrill of sexfighting-and said "nice cock." That was a real confidence booster and we began the last round, fully nude, with the instruction that they wanted to see some screwing this round. The judges told us to do a test of strength, I think Gayboy just wanted to watch me squirm, because as soon as they said go I had maybe half a second of struggling before Tina sent me to my knees; whimpering like a scolded puppy. Tina began pushing me until I was on my back and I felt utterly helpless, unable to kick out with me sitting on my haunches, my feet tucked under my butt, as Tina slowly moved her feet from under my armpits to standing above my shoulders, as she began to slowly drop her bare ass onto my face. Once she sat down she moved so my hands were cupping her big boobs; I was forbidden from doing any painful breast attacks so I could just hope tweaking her nipples would get another orgasm out of her but it was a long shot. I might have been under her maybe a few minutes but it felt like I was under her ass for three hours as she gyrated, hopped, and ground her pussy all over my face until I couldn't tell if I was soaked from her sweat or love juices. When I finally saw light, from the fluorescents above the ring, I felt like a trapped miner finally smelling fresh air again.

Unfortunately my fate wasn't over yet as Tina scooped me up and body slammed me hard on my mat. My back was already killing me when she flipped me over and locked in a camel clutch. I was on the verge of tears as she bent me back far enough so she could flop her sweaty titties on my face; further amplifying my humiliation. until she reached down and gave me a really nasty nipple twist that had me screaming like a little girl. Once she was done with this, Tina flipped me over then promptly stomped me in my belly with her barefoot. For some reason I was still hard and after spitting on her hand and jerking my dick to its complete stiffness, Tina squatted over my cock. We both sighed simultaneously when our genitals combined; she was so warm and dripping wet-I don't know if it was from just beating me or the facesit or both-as she sat down to ride me harder while pinning my wrists to the mat by my hips. I tried humping up to meet her thrusts, hoping maybe my own cock could finish the job, but she let go of my wrist to slap me across the face. My hand tried grabbing a boob or something but she caught me and held both of my skinny wrists in her one strong hand.

"This is my dick, say it, bitch," she growled and when I didn't apparently say it fast enough, Tina gave me another open palm slap across the face that really fucking stung. I called her a bitch and she began to choke me as she rode my dick harder and harder. God it felt incredible; not just her pussy but feeling owned by a busty amazon. "Say it," she sighed, her head leaning back as she continued to bounce on my cock.

"It''s your dick," I mumbled.

"Louder!" she said, slapping me with her choking hand.

"It's your dick!" I practically screamed and she grabbed my hair, pulling me up so my face was buried in her tits as she began doing squats on my cock, fast and hard. I sucked on her boobs as she held my wrists behind my head like I'd been handcuffed.

"That's it, yes bitch, oh god thats iiiiiitttttt," Tina came with a loud, vocal squeal and shuddered until she collapsed on top of me signaling the buzzer. She took a second to get to her feet, leaving me unfinished, as the judges, all of them, rose and applauded my chubby dominatrix. I was rudely ushered out of the ring by staff members as all the judges chimed in with their two cents about how awesome she was while I felt like street trash doing the walk of shame. I was almost shoved into the men's locker room while another guy carried my clothes in a pile and threw them on the floor, telling me to get showered and they'd let me know how my try out went.

I felt like a total whore and I was too pissed to even take care of my own orgasm in the shower so by the time I got my clothes on, my duffel bag on my arm and was headed down the hallway to the garage I encountered Tina. She was fully dressed in her street clothes but hadn't appeared to have showered, her hair and body still glistening with sweat as was the residual smell of sex in the air. She pushed me against the wall and, while looking down at me, said, "I never got to thank you for going easy on me."

I was going to say something dumb but she leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips; they parted and I felt her soft pink tongue. We frenched for a few seconds, enough for her to feel the erection awoken and practically tearing a hole in my jeans. She slid down to her knees, unzipped my fly and looked up into my eyes as she started giving me the most amazing head; it took my breath away. She took her time too, sucking slowly on the head then licking the shaft down to the balls, taking each one of them in her mouth, then licking her way back up like a popsicle. I tried feeling up her big tits but she slapped my hand away.

"Remember," she paused and smiled, "this is MY dick." She emphasized her words by squeezing my cock hard enough to make me see spots, then resumed her epic blowjob. I kept my hands in the air, pinned to the wall, as she took me deep into her mouth then pulled all the way out. She would jack from the base up as she took half of my length into her throat. The feeling was exquisite and I told her I was gonna cum when she pulled away; I pouted for a second but she pulled down tank top and bra, exposing her big tits. She sucked half of me while beating me off as she slurped on my girth before I started to shudder uncontrollably. She pulled off and milked every drop onto her huge boobs while I held a hand over my mouth, moaning and convulsing.

"Thanks for the match, tiger," she said, putting her bra back on, over her cummy tits, and sauntered off while I just leaned against the wall utterly breathless.

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