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As she awoke she marveled at the softness and coolness of the sheets enveloping her. The warm soft sun shown through the sheer curtains, and as she rubbed her eyes, it dawned on her that she wasn’t quite sure where she was….

As she looked around the room and her eyes fell on him, it all came back to her. Dennis sat in the boudoir chair watching her with fiery eyes of interest. They had been casual friends for a while, and her drunken admission to him in conversation at a party the last night that she was into [tag]submission[/tag] had gotten her an offer to spend Saturday with him. She knew him well enough to not refuse.

As she stretched he moved from the chair and silently moved towards her, taking something from behind his back as he neared her. Winding the piece of black cloth in his hands, he surprised her into stillness by placing it across her face and into her mouth, gently tying it in back, tight enough so that it dug in between her jaws a bit. Stretching out his hand in an offer of support he raised her to her feet, taking a moment to look at her in the wonderfully soft and silky teddy she had worn to bed. With a flicker of his eye and a quick wave of his hand he grasped the plunging neckline and ripped the silk right down the middle, allowing her breasts to bulge out and showing at the bottom of the rip her dark mound of pubic hair. He chuckled at the surprise in her eyes, and saw fit to speak to her.

“I know what you like, I can read it in your eyes, they are a very clear window to your soul. I can tell what you want, what you need. I happen to have complimenting needs, desires, and wants, and as so will do my best to fulfill yours while fulfilling mine. You will have little say in what goes on here, although if you feel that you cannot and will not take any more of a specific situation, then make it clear to me. Do not falsify the end of your wits or you will be punished for it.”

“Shall we begin?”

She nodded a silent yes to his awaiting gaze.

As he walked around her, he grabbed the low cut back of her teddy and ripped it down the back, and with a swift pull broke the snaps at the crotch and let the shredded garment fall to the floor. He paused to look at her shape, very soft and lovely, her milky skin, and warm brown hair. “Follow me,” he said as he placed a hand on her shoulder and walked out of the room. She wasn’t sure where they were going, or if anyone else was in the large house…

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Once again Jim found himself climbing the stairs to Carol’s 27th Street apartment. Several weeks ago he had attempted to wrestle Carol, but only ended up submitting to painful holds – the dreaded Boston crab, a combination body scissors/headlock where Carol completely shut down his breathing, and a deadly sleeper that sent him temporarily to dreamland. Despite his poor performance in Carol’s clutches, Jim was thrilled with the experience in retrospect. His life-long fantasy of being physically dominated and tortured by a beautiful woman had certainly been realized in spades. Jim had made a return appointment with Carol on the spot, and today he was keeping that date.

The beautiful Carol greeted Jim warmly and ushered him into the apartment, which was equipped with wrestling mats as before. This time the six-foot blonde was dressed in a shiny spandex “catsuit,” which left little concerning her anatomy to the imagination. She was so luscious that Jim’s palms seemed to itch in his eagerness to get his hands on her.

“You like?” she cooed, turning and showing off her body. “I just got this little number last week. It’s great for wrestling – guys get so involved in looking at me that they forget what we’re doing. Makes it real easy to trap ’em!”

Jim gulped, imagining how he would soon be trapped that way!

“You know, Jim,” added Carol, “you really didn’t do very well against me last time. Were you really trying?”

“I sure was! You’re just a damned good wrestler. Anyway, what excites me the most is being forced to submit to your holds. I’m not really into defeating a woman – I enjoy being dominated.”

“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place! Like I think I told you last time, I really get off on using my body to make a man beg for mercy! Tell you what – I’ll stress really punishing you today. How’s that?”

“Sounds great! Just don’t kill me!”

“What? And lose a good customer – No way! What I will do, though, is pour on the pressure until you say the magic word. Let’s use ‘mercy’ as a safe word. Don’t forget it!”

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When this story began, you may remember, I slipped Wanda’s panties and little bra from her basement laundry shoot, took them upstairs to my room one afternoon after school, thinking I was all alone in the two-family house we shared. After I put them on, masturbated, sniffed, and rubbed them all over myself (I was careful not to cum on them, but into my hand, which I wiped carefully with tissues as well); I returned them to her laundry shoot when I started to do my family’s wash for my mother, who had left instructions in a note. While I was in the basement, Wanda came down from her first-floor apartment, aroused me, and led me upstairs to my room again, for my virgin fucking and sucking. I had little reason thereafter to put her panties on, fucking and eating her delicious cunt was far more exciting that masturbating with nylon panties on. I loved cunt-licking far more than anything else sexual I had ever even dreamed about. Now you’re about to read about the second adventure with Wanda and her bisexual husband, Wayne.

The following Saturday night, after a boring, sexless week of impatient waiting, Wayne and Wanda had invited me downstairs for more sex play with them, beginning again at 8:30. My friend Richard agreed to cover for me again, if my parents called, and I had given him Wayne and Wanda’s phone number to alert me to call home or to come home. (I was lucky enough to go until 11:30 again with no call, so the second Saturday night orgy was uninterrupted and wonderful.)

When I knocked on their door at precisely 8:30, two, not one, sexy women greeted me: Wanda, the delicate, and a stranger with big tits, which a jersey top could hardly contain. I wanted immediately to release those jugs from her blouse even before Wanda told me that she was Wilma, her sister-in-law. It was dark in the living room, and again Wanda led me down the hallway to their back bedroom. In the darkened front part of the apartment, however, Wilma grabbed me in her strong big arms, pressed me to her voluptuous chest and french kissed me with the largest, searching tongue that ever entered my mouth. She turned me on good; and I had already come downstairs with an erection. I reached up for her mammoth mammaries, but she forced my hand away from them casually. I accepted that and figured that I could wait until she took them out to show me and to have me suck them later.

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A nice evening at her place, I thought as we got out of the car. Good wine, a wonderful sex goddess, and a good dinner lying happily in my stomach. What else could a man ask for? “To fuck like crazed weasels,” I muttered as I watched Jennifer slink up the walkway, with her one flawless leg catching in the light from the street light. “What’s that, dear?” she said, pivoting to look at me. A flash of white skin caught the dim yellow light where the stump I’d been thinking about through dinner was. “Nothing, I was just muttering to myself. They tell me the insanity isn’t anything to worry about unless I start st-st-stu-stuttering.”

Her infectious laugh filled the still air as we went into her apartment. I walked in and took off my shoes and watched as she placed a crutch tip on either side of her red pump and lifted her right foot out in one fluid motion. She was worth another hungry look in the room light. That oft-admired bare leg was perfect right down to the way the toes curved. Her hips and backside were pushing against her tight death-by-red dress. A bit further up, her full breasts were pressing hard against the fabric, with firm little points crying out to be touched. Her pretty hands flexed around the grips of the aluminum crutches that helped her look so athletic.

Her eyes sparkled above her wide smile when I finally looked up at her pretty face. She turned and hugged me, and said, “Could you pour the wine? There are stem glasses in the cupboard above and to the left of the sink.” She then headed to the sofa as I uncorked the bottle and found the supplies I needed.

I thought about her as I made busy in the kitchen. I’d met her how long ago? Was it really only two weeks? From the first time I’d seen her hop past me at the pool, I’d been addicted. That stump, ending just above the knee, had just not been out of my mind since. But nor had her breasts, her earlobes, her very fingers – she was just everywhere! I’d almost jumped her in the Japanese restaurant earlier when, after I gave her right foot a good massage, she slipped said bare foot up above my ankle and started rubbing my leg. Yes, she’d be a dish in any language, and that truncated thigh just made it more exotic.

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I flew into LAX and when I came through the gate I saw Brittany standing there. She was even more beautiful than her pictures had allowed me to believe. I approached her and the closer I got to her the more intimidating she became. I watched her face light up in a smile that I interpreted as one which said, ‘this is going to be easier than I thought to break this one into little pieces.’ We hugged and I thought she was going to break my ribs or knock me out right there in the airport; but, she eased up and whispered in my ear, “that was just a little sample of my arm strength. I’m going to destroy you with them and then break you in half with my long, strong legs. You belong to my muscles.” I could only smile and respond as any male would when that close to a beautiful, powerful woman.

We walked down to get my baggage and Brittany made sure that she walked in front of me so I could watch the flex of those gorgeous legs of hers. We talked while waiting for my bags and she would verbally tease me every chance she got. My bags finally came out and I pulled them off of the conveyor belt. They were heavy and I suggested we find a porter to take them out for us. Brittany said, “don’t be silly, I’m stronger than any of them ever thought of being. I’ll carry the bag you think is so heavy; do you think you can manage the camera?” And she picked up my bag as if it were empty and off we went. When we had the bags loaded into the car she took my hand and placed it on her arm then she flexed. The muscle exploded and my hand could not fit around it. Brittany said, “this is what a real arm feels like and you are going to be feeling it a lot around your scrawny little neck and weak body as I crush you into unconsciousness.”

We arrived at my hotel, checked in and the bell man took us to the room. I had gotten a suite as Brittany had instructed me to. After the bell man had been tipped and he left Brittany walked over to me; wearing her 4″ heels she stood about 6’2″. I looked up into her smiling face as she raised her right arm and flexed her muscle in my face. She then grabbed a handful of hair and wrapped her arm around my neck in a headlock. “Put your hand on my arm and feel how hard my female muscle gets as I knock you out.” I touched her arm and the next thing I knew was Brittany straddling my body as I lay on the floor. When she saw me open my eyes she laughed and said, “You only lasted 3 seconds but I won’t put you out so fast from now on. I want you to squirm and cry and beg some. Now sit up and put your neck between my thighs. You may feel them as I crush you out again.”

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