+Notable Author: [Silentcrs] Ultimate Power Ultimately Corrupts: Series

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Stories in this collection:

PROLOGUE

THE CHEERLEADER

THE LIFEGUARD

THE BRIDESMAID

THE TRIPLETS

WARNING: SNUFF

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Ultimate Power Ultimately Corrupts - Prologue
By Silentcrs
silentc123-mail@yahoo.com
Give young women power and they may not use it ethically


They say "ultimate power ultimately corrupts". I've found that's never to be
more true than with teenagers. My name is Detective Jim Rasmond. My beat is a
major city in southern California. Beautiful area. Can be hot as fuck
sometimes, but that's what the locals love about it. The weather also tends to
bring out the cute girls with the ultra short skirts. Not a bad thing if
you're a heterosexual male, like I am.

What can be a bad thing, however, is who are in those skirts. Powerful women.
Homicidal women. You might think I'm crazy, but I've seen things with my own
eyes, the aftermath of "visits", that would make any man squirm. I don't mean
to be a misogynist, but it was enough when these girls were first given access
to guns. Combine the woman's lib movement with a newfound sense of strength –
coupled with harder workout regimens and an interest in getting more
physically powerful (along with easier access to steroids and HGH) – and you
have women out there that think reparations for the delayed suffrage movement
is their responsibility. And they plan to carry it out – with their bodies.

If this was an isolated case here and there of some former bodybuilder in her
40s mangling some guy who got fresh, it'd be one thing. But every indication
is that it's exactly the opposite. Young girls in their mid-to-late teens,
cranked up on hormones, singling out innocent males who just happen to catch
their eye on a walk home from school. These young women are beautiful and
charming. Bodies not to match. No sense of the sanctity of life. Think back to
when you were in high school: did you really care whether you live or died the
next day? Hell no. If you were any able-bodied teenager with hormones, you
were more likely laser-focused on sex. Same with these girls. Except, they
don't concern themselves with whether they live or die. They don't care
whether YOU live or die. You're just a toy. And if they happen to break their
toys, well, they can find new ones.

The first case I covered seemed to be your typical homicide case. At least,
until I showed up at the crime scene. The males' bodies looked mangled –
crushed. It looks they had been compacted with heavy equipment or machinery.
Broken ribs. There was rape involved, but no sign of forced anal entry on the
men. Whoever had sex with this man was female.

Oh, and there was one other thing. In the corner of the room there was a
cheerleader's skirt. It was from a local high school.

* * * * * * * *

[silentcrs]

Ultimate Power Ultimately Corrupts - Chapter 1 - The Cheerleader
By Silentcrs, You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login
Give young women power and they may not use it ethically
___________________

It was less like a rolling pin and more like a steamroller.  Massive thighs pressing, kneading, flattening into his from above.  They were as firm as steel but with skin as soft as a young woman's powdered face.  And the smells.  Feminine.  Pure.  Flowery.  A stark contrast to the torture he was undergoing.

The room was silent except for his soft cries and her occasional erotic exhales.  Secluded and quiet on an outstretched road leading off the interstate into the desert – well out of earshot from the city – she had picked this motel especially for its intended purpose.  Between her satisfied sighs and his muffled whimpers, she could actually hear her powerful muscles grinding into  his.  The exquisite sound of thick, corded muscle overpowering a pale frame.  The sounds of his fists at first pounding weakly on her wide back, then clasping the small of her back, palms open, struggling to hold on to the waves rolling over him, then just her gigantic body undulating back and forth, embedding an imprint of his frame into the motel room carpet as his hands fell palms upward onto the floor.  Taken.

She amused herself with the observation that they never seemed to imagine the danger they were in.  These weren't predators trolling the city's playground.  She was the predator, pulling alongside as they walked home from work.  A tweed jacket.  Maybe a bowtie.  She laughed at the stereotype they'd project.  The middle-aged accountant, the young college professor.  She was the opposite stereotype: the young, blonde cheerleader in the cherry red sportscar.  Beautiful tan.  Shining white smile.  The trap would be set.  She'd ask for directions and he'd think he was the luckiest guy in the world.  He approached the passenger side window and her massive thighs would involuntarily quiver.  As soon as his slender body came into view, the trap would spring.  He was pulled into the car violently as his briefcase cracked open on the sidewalk.  His papers would flutter in the dust as the car took off.  One giant hand would hold his chest against the passenger seat as she would accelerate down the suburban streets.  It was then that he'd notice how much the young woman was taking up the driver side.  How her substantial, muscular frame was squeezed into a seat way too tiny for its occupant.  How her tanned forearm, almost as large as his upper chest, bulged with sinewy muscle as she pressed him harder into the seat.  As she merged onto the interstate, she'd turn her head slowly and face her prey, lowering her sunglasses down and brushing aside a strand of blonde hair.  She looked his body up and down, licking her ruby red lips.  He'd involuntarily tremor.

When they got to the motel, she drove around to an empty parking lot towards the back.  She parked near an unassuming ranch-style building, out of sight from the motel's owners and any wayward travelers.  She unfolded her enormous body out the driver seat, pulling the man by his wrist across the center console of the car and dropped him unceremoniously onto the dusty ground.  She pushed her sunglasses down her nose and looked around.  Deserted.  She turned to close and lock the car door as she put a small plastic case under her arm.  She didn't want any trouble.

The motel had been built in the 1950s and its locks were clearly not designed for a modern-day teenager.  She grasped the doorknob and, with a flick of her muscular wrist, snapped the lock frame off the splintered wood door.  She closed the partially broken door behind them and, with one whip of her potent forearm, sent the man careening across the room.  It would've been a great opening wrestling move for a clothesline, if he hadn't banged headfirst into an old radiator and crumpled to the floor.  As he held his head in pain, she reached towards the bed frame and yanked a single rod of brass off the footboard.  She pulled it to her hard chest and bent it.  Facing the closed door, she tied the rod as easily as a shoelace around the remains of the doorframe and lock.  No one was leaving this room.  Certainly not one as weak as he.

He groggily sat up, holding his head as his eyes slowly adjusted to the last strands of an early summer dusk streaming through the motel window's blinds.  His eyes drifted across the room's gritty carpeted floor to the young woman's feet where she was taking off her white sneakers.  Her bare feet were unusually large yet feminine, with almost daintily painted pink toenails.  He lifted his neck further in pain to see her striated calves, thick balls of muscle that seemed to flex just from wiggling her toes.  Farther up over large knots of knee muscle were thighs – impossibly huge and rippling thighs.  Just one was bigger in girth than his entire torso and each had teardrop muscular patterns casting shadows upon themselves.  A cheerleader's skirt, barely a small swath of fabric on her massive frame, clung precipitously to her waist, white cotton panties clearly visible under tightly-pulled ruffles.  Above the blue and white folds, a substantial washboard of rippling muscle outlined her tanned abs, a metallic piercing hanging gently from her belly button.  Above that, a cheerleader's blouse – what was left of one anyway – tied tightly to her sturdy frame.  Her exceptionally large breasts threatened to pop the blouse's remaining overworked seams at any moment, erect nipples pushing menacingly out onto the fabric with each breath she inhaled.  Her arms, bulky and dominant, crossed her massive chest as she cracked her knuckles on well-manicured hands, preparing for what was to come.  Her face, model-like and almost gentle in its beauty, rose above a long neck and below waves of long golden hair.  It was an exercise in contrast to see that gorgeous young face on a hulk of a body, rippling with power with each long breath drawn in.

Knowing full well she would be the last thing the man ever sees, she started the show.  Delicately removing her skirt with her thumb, she slipped it down her gigantic tanned legs and tossed the tiny fabric into a dark corner of the room.  She turned away from the man with gentle steps, looking across at a dresser mirror conveniently placed near the foot of the bed, although below the line of sight of her beautiful face.  It did, however, afford a perfect view of her heaving chest as she crossed her arms.  She formed a most muscular pose, inhaling deeply and stretching out her ample musculature against the stretched white fabric.  The sounds of seams splitting open filled the silent room, her thick back eclipsing the light from the windows briefly, spreading out almost like the wings of an eagle.  She turned sideways to the man as the fragments of cloth fell to the floor and bent down.  She lifted her abundant, hard buttocks into view of the light placing a single finger on a pouting lower lip.  She clenched her glutes, flexing the thick globes – each one bigger than his chest – into potent circles of meat.  She exhaled as she continued to clench, flexing her ass dangerously against the tight white panties until rips could be heard.  Finally, with a soft grunt and a coo, her panties split open to reveal more tanned bared skin.  She stood up, towering over his still prone body, the last of the fabric slipping from it onto the floor.  The shafted light drew lines across her perfect visage as she ran her large, womanly hands across her plentiful curves: the large mounds of her chest, her awaiting thighs, down her perfectly curved butt.  She was a statue in motion, a young Greek goddess.

His undressing was considerably less dramatic. – she didn't care much for a toy's package.  Reaching down and placing her hands on his upper body, she grasped his shirt with both fists and simply ripped the fabric part, leaving a bare thin chest.  As one hand threw the remnants of cloth away, another large one grasped his entire crotch.  With one firm clutch, she ripped the entirety of his fly off, zipper and all.  His pants unwrapped easily after this, leaving gangly legs in a plain gray pair of cotton underwear.  She was pleased to see parts of his underwear were already wet.

She clasped one hand around his neck and slowly stood up to her full majestic height, lifting her occupant with her.  She turned and faced a dirty wall of the hotel, still in eyeshot of the mirror that refused to show her full body.  It did, however, show what she wanted to see: a frail adult male pawing desperately at her flexed arm, legs bouncing off her bulky thighs as he struggled.  She pressed her arm into the wall and leaned forward against his body.  Her buxom chest completely enveloped his undermatched ribs, clenching his ribcage with her bosoms as she let go.  Her rippling abs ground into his crotch, pressing what was now a small erection harshly backwards between his stomach and the wall.  His feet dangled off the ground by more than a foot as she casually maneuvered her hands through her hair, tying it up into a neat knot, all the time pressing harder into his fragile body.  "I wonder what these walls are made of," she said nonchalantly to the man.  "Plaster?"  She heard her occupant gasp as a crackle came from behind and his body moved backward half an inch.  "No, not plaster.  Too weak."  She put her hands flat against the wall above her as  flattened him further, powering her broad torso into his, sliding him slowly up and down the wall so she could feel the entirety of his pathetic body against hers. 

"Not that I need the wall anyway," she said.  She peeled him off the wallpaper and wrapped him in a bear hug, once again turning to the mirror for a full view of the destruction.  His eyes nervously shifted from side to side as she closed her eyes contentedly, bunching her solid biceps around his weak upper frame.  Contracting tighter, she wrapped the man in her solid flesh.  She heard the familiar sounds of lungs gurgling as her arms compacted, any remaining fight draining from his wringed out body.  After a few moments of silence, she opened her eyes and was amused to see his entire upper body, from head to waist, obscured from view completely in her colossal, flexed arms.  If not for the bony legs hanging lifelessly below, almost kidlike against her large lower body, it would look like she was simply hugging her massive arms against her bare chest.  A small grin formed wickedly at the top of the mirror.

She laid the man's prone body out on the carpet as the last shades of dusk flittered away and the room grew black.  He could hear her moving around the room quietly as she prepared, his eyes barely adjusting to the light.  After a few seconds, he once again felt the warmth of her commanding body standing above him.  She seemed to turn her head slightly as she looked off into the distance, a soft white light barely visible in the corner.  "Now little man," she said, "time to feed." 

His voice was whispery and hoarse.  "Feed?"  He coughed.  "Who?  You?" 

"No," she smirked, once again seemingly looking off towards the light.  "Her."  Her fingers tenderly reached down between her legs and rubbed her clit, spreading the glistening lips.  Her wetness was evident; he could hear her fingers press in and out, dancing over her labia, gracefully opening up her flower.  The musky smell of a fully-aroused teenager gradually began to fill his nostrils.  He felt drops of juice from her inner thighs dripping onto his pale form.  She was marking her territory.

With a graceful swoop, her oversized body collapsed down onto his, her powerful thighs mashing his crotch into the carpet.  Her strength alone would have been overwhelming enough, but he couldn't tolerate her weight.  Easily almost three times his, all muscle.  At first, she held both of his hands up behind his head with one strong arm, but it proved largely unnecessary.  She was overpowering him with her crotch alone, grinding out his existence with her undulations.  Every movement of her butt backwards would pull his body along by his penis, gripped hard in her cavernous pussy.  Every movement forward would result in the delightful sounds of crackled bones and a sternum rapidly being shattered.  She let go of his wrists as he pawed feebly at her back.  Her hands cupped her tanned, ample breasts as she once again looked out towards the light, throwing her hair back and bringing their supple flesh up to her awaiting lips.  She flicked her tongue and traced a circle around each erect nipple, moaning in sync with his increasingly belabored wheezes.  As his breaths grew more belabored, hers grew more intense.

After entertaining herself with her toy for nearly an hour, she could feel his being almost completely flitted away.  While still impaled on his erect penis, she contrived herself into a position as she laid out on the shadowy floor.  Her body still wrapped around his, sheathing him in a flesh tomb .  He could feel one of her heavy thighs twist around his lower back as she prepared, encompassing it in corded thick muscle.  His eyes were closed tight but he could smell her mouth as she positioned her face near his.  Her lips, plush, grazed his ear.  Her breath smelled like cherries.  "Do you know what we learned about in biology class today?" she whispered into his ear.  "Serpentes Boidae Boinae.  The boa constrictor.  Did you know some of the females can grow bigger than eight feet and have a contracting force of almost a kilogram per square centimeter?"  She sighed softly as she maneuvered her other massive thigh around his back, her pussy still tight around his penis as a groan escaped his lips.  "They're not known to kill their partners during mating."  She tongued his ear and bit his earlobe.   "It's a shame, really." 

She hissed erotically into his ear, "I guess that makes more of a black widow." 

The pain started at his chest and flared through his abdomen and extremities.  She compacted inwards, organs rubbing against their cavities, bones snapping against one another.  The compression expunged his stomach first, a bubbling sound reaching his lips involuntarily as a dribble of blood wet his lips.  He felt her teeth nibble at his ear as she ground against him, her crotch engulfing his and doing everything in its power to pull his penis up through her lower abdomen.  His ribcage folded in.  Her warm cocoon pressed in deeper, shaking his core.  As she felt his penis collapse in her womb, the last thing he felt was a wash of fluid against his crotch, her scalding hot juices spilling out over his broken body as she screamed in ecstasy.  Then, all was silent.

After several minutes of afterglow, the young girl unwrapped herself from her prey, her vagina giving a light popping sound as it came off his still erect penis.  She stood up, flush, looking down at her mangled toy, lightly dripping clear fluid onto his misshaped body.  She let her hair down and walked into the bathroom, returning in a long white towel as she took one last look at his conquest contentedly.  She stepped over to the barely lit corner and pressed the Stop button on the camcorder.  She would need to remember to save this tape – perhaps share it with her friends.  Under cover of darkness, she climbed into her car, opening the windows as she pulled out of the sandy parking lot.  She would look forward to reading the local papers the next day, she thought, as the wind rustled through her long blonde hair.

[silentcrs]

Ultimate Power Ultimately Corrupts - Chapter 2 - The Lifeguard
By Silentcrs, You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login
Give young women power and they may not use it ethically

Her broad arms spread out behind her along the concrete.  Skin, still wet, glistened as the full moon shone from overhead.  Her ample, naked breasts bobbed along the top of the water, shiny flesh reflecting the glow of several small floodlights that dotted the pool's perimeter.  As soothing bubbles rose from below, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back in satisfaction, her long, dark, damp hair brushing against the cool concrete.  The smell of chlorine filled the air.  After about half a minute of pleasure, the bubbles stopped.  She opened her eyes and looked down into the water, a small tuft of auburn hair peeking out from between her enormous powerfully built thighs.  She grabbed the tuft rudely and readjusted his face, crushing it further into her loins.  She could feel the plaintive moans between her legs as the bubbles started anew.  She closed her eyes again and smiled.

A few hours earlier it had been dusk.  She had been nestled high in the lifeguard stand, her body hidden under a vast white towel.  It was getting to be well after the community pool's closing hours, a muggy Saturday evening that had seen its share of families, couples and the occasional odd exerciser doing laps in the Olympic-sized pool.  One man, a lithe swimmer, continued to dart back and forth below her watch as dusk settled into night.  His body tight and slender, in silver swim trunks he was almost like a minnow zipping along.  A tasty treat.   As she turned her head, she heard the last of the pool's other visitors drive out from the near-empty parking lot.  She turned back and listened to the soft swells being made by the man still in the water.  Several minutes passed of his ripples in otherwise quiet. 

Night settled.  She climbed down from her perch as gracefully as her substantial body would allow, walking to the end of the pool furthest from the man.  He had stopped briefly to catch his breath, checking his waterproof wristwatch for his latest lap time.  As he looked across the water, the lifeguard's massive toweled form rose in the shadows above the pool's edge.  The young woman was much bigger than he had imagined, he thought to himself, as she eclipsed the floodlights behind her with considerable mass.  As she unsheathed her towel in the near darkness, he could barely see the striking lines of a red string bikini stretched tight against her skin.  He saw her take a deep, full breath.  He looked down at his watch again and felt the water of the pool rise up ever so slightly, as if a large mass had been dropped into it.  He looked back up and saw only the crumpled towel lying on the concrete.

He began his final freestyle lap of the night, methodically crossing the channel of water.  As he approached the midway point of the pool, he felt a large rush of water approach him from below.  Then he felt a mass.  Before he could react, he felt his stomach slammed into by a tremendous weight travelling at a fantastic speed.  The mass carried him backwards, an unrelenting surge that pushed him all the way to the side of the pool before crushing him against the wall.  He sunk underwater before coming back up for air, feeling his wrists pulled harshly to his sides and pressed backwards against the walls.  He opened his eyes to see the young teenager's oversized breasts right before his face, globes tautly and barely held by thin red string and fabric, her huge chest muscles heaving as she whipped the water out of her black hair.  Her cleavage looked cavernous and her breasts looked like they threatened to break free of their confines at any moment.  She stared down, breathing in and out deeply -- she seemed satisfied to frighten him with her chest.

After several moments, the girl took both of his hands in one large fist and held them high above his head as her other hand went behind her wide back.  With a light tug, the red fabric triangles collapsed from her chest, her pendulous breasts swinging solid and firm.  She reached towards the man's face and abruptly wrenched it open with her fingers, pulling the wet string deep into his agape mouth as she wrapped it around the back of his head and around his wrists behind him, binding them.  It tasted like oil and chlorine.  She didn't need to do this, she thought to herself, but it would make it much easier to work with her toy.  With his eyes wide open and a sadistic grin on her elegant face, she pulled back her colossal thigh and knee, as large as his entire lower body, and rammed it forward into his abdomen, sending a shockwave through him as he collapsed against the wall.  As he howled in pain, she smushed a single giant breast into his waiting mouth, shuddering briefly as her large, rigid nipple forced its way past his teeth.  She pressed his face callously against her rolling upper chest, his eyes filled with nothing but her plentiful bosom, his nostrils filled with the sweet smells of a teenager's flowery skin and the lingering aftereffects of tanning oil.  She rolled the single large bust over his reddening face, teasingly covering it in its entirety.  It pleased her to see the man's head no larger than her one mound, his face disappearing into her flesh.  His eyes grew bloodshoot as she rolled the slick, oiled skin over them.  His breath grew more and more labored and his body grew weak.  She was overpowering him with the softest part of her muscular body.

She reached down between his legs, grasping his swim trunks with a free hand.  Clasping the elastic with her large fingers she jerked it back towards her, pulling his body almost a foot before the wet fabric tore away and he came slamming back into the wall.  She tossed it casually onto the concrete behind him, returning her palm to his penis and cupping it and his testicles with one large hand as she continued to knead her bosom over his visage.  She snickered as she fondled him.  This little minnow had tiny genitalia to match – his penis was barely larger than her giant thumb.  No matter.  She was more interested in using him for oral satisfaction for now.   Removing her voluminous breast from his aching mouth, his body now weakened from lack of air, she turned her body around and quickly slammed her wide, rippling back into his chest, another agreeable whimper echoing from his lips.  As her back kept him immobile, she bent down and rolled off her bikini bottom, the red fabric forming a wet rope in the process.  She reached between her tree-like thighs and pulled his chicken legs upwards between them, tying his ankles tight with her former bottoms.  As she dropped his feet back down, she felt his little penis, erect, press against the small of her back.  She crushed him backwards against the pool's wall a bit, just to feel his flesh yield to hers.  His penis was barely large enough to go into a dimple formed by her powerful lower back muscles.  It was so cute.

She dragged him across the water by his feet towards the corner of the pool, a veritable floating toy with his arms and legs tied.  As she positioned him straight up and down to her body, she nonchalantly said, "This is your only warning. Take a deep breath."  Before he could do anything she abruptly thrust him downwards into the water, opening her thick, enormous thighs like a bear trap and collapsing them around his small head.  He struggled, his lips fighting for air against her crotch as his scrawny body thrashed about under the water.  The movement of his body and mouth made the most wonderful bubbles as he twisted about.  She rested her bulky biceps on the concrete behind her and closed her eyes in contentment, breathing in the night air.  After some moments of struggling, his body grew still.  She pulled his hair harshly and readjusted his tiny skull against her labia as she pressured her thighs to further enjoy her makeshift Jacuzzi.  His bucking started once again, but after a mere 30 seconds of subtler bubbles he once again grew still.  She was going to need to give the diminutive man some "encouragement". 

With seemingly little effort, she unlatched his aching head from her thighs, turned his body completely upside-down and pressured his face back into her loins.  This put his crotch directly where she wanted it, grazing her red lips against the head of his penis.  Her tongue came out briefly, teasing him expectantly.  Then, with a jolt, she crossed her powerful fists into his back, mashed his body forward and swallowed his modest penis into her gaping mouth.  She wrapped its entirety with her waiting tongue.  "My god, little man," she spoke against his quivering head, "I've had toothpicks larger in my mouth."  She forced his small penis back and forth, raking it against his teeth, reaching one hand up to his adorable petite butt cheeks and pressed her fingers between them, massaging his prostate.  He was the most charming little sex toy, she thought, even if he was a little small.  As she proceeded to fuck him with her mouth, she felt his own tongue struggle laboriously to please her.  He was learning.  After several minutes of raping him with her lips, she sucked hard, flicking her tongue into the hole at the top of his penis.  Smiling knowingly, she felt his entire body shudder and small gobs of white fluid spit onto her tongue, which she promptly lapped up.  As she swallowed, a new foam of bubbles rose up from his tortured head as he orgasmed, once against pleasuring her nether regions as she ground her thighs against one another.  Her "encouragement" was a success.

After the bubbles had once again subsided, she brought his drenched head back up to the surface, sputtering.  As he gasped for air she let go of his body, allowing him to try to catch his breath.  She proceeded to retie her hair up he choked on the water.  She then picked him up out of the water with one hand and eyed his body up and down.  "When I'm in school," she began mock innocently, "do you know where I most like to take field trips?" His body shivered but did not answer.  "The aquarium.  Do you know why?"

She curled his body against her side and pressed her lips tightly against his ear.  "Because I love to watch them feed the sharks!" she rasped.

She threw his body through the air halfway across the pool, his arms and legs haphazardly crashing into the water.  He started frantically thrashing about, but with his hands and legs bound he was moving like a wounded fish.  He turned briefly back to where the girl was, not seeing her and fearing the worst.  He panicked and aimed towards the far end of the pool, desperately trying to put some distance between them.  He swam forward and for a brief moment felt he might make it.  However, he once again felt a rush of water below him.  A dark mass below.  He swallowed hard.

He felt his body fly out of the water again as she launched herself upwards, her powerful arms wrapping around his torso and dragging him under the surface once again in a modified piledriver.   She wrapped her immense body around him, distorting his frame and positioning his crotch where she wanted it between her ankles.  His hips slipped between her balled-up muscular calves as she grasped both his buttocks with her large hands and then, with considerable force, wracked him upward, her thighs engulfing his torso.  Not satisfied that his little penis was all the way in, she open her legs slightly and pulled his body downwards before jamming it back up again, twisting her  toy back and forth to try to get leverage.  Her column-like thighs chewed into his soft glutes, trying to wring what pleasure they could out of his tiny genitals.  It wasn't until she grimaced and bore down on his weak hips, bending them inwards and mashing them upwards, did she begin to feel filled.  She sighed in contentment.  Her hands instinctively went to her erect nipples, tweaking them, as she looked down into the water.  His gangly body twisted and tried to free itself from her grasp, his eyes barely able to view her monstrous thighs as he drowned.  She taunted him by flexing them harder, thick cords of muscle he could barely imagine as they etched across the surface of her legs.  Threatening to obliterate his crotch and his manhood with one fateful snap, he weekly tried kicking his legs up against her solid back.  Helpless.  His eyes looked up at hers, screamed up at hers, as she looked down at his squirming bony body.  She involuntarily licked her lips as he continued to thrash, her eyes looking up at the full moon overhead.  A warmth spread through her body -- it was time. 

She leaned her head back and took a profound breath, filling her mighty lungs up with air and inflating her enormous chest to its limits before ducking down under the water.  While continuing to gnaw away at his crotch with her thighs, she wrapped her powerful forearms around his head and bent his body painfully upwards, crushing it into her bosom.  She felt his mouth screaming, searching for air into her gaping cleavage as she wrapped around him tighter.  She bent her body downwards, like a pillbug, curling his body against hers, unyielding.  She heard the snaps under the water as his bones buckled against themselves.  His penis bent and curled into her body as he shrieked harder into her chest.  The way his body bent and acquiesced was enchanting.  Finally, with a majestic flex and a deafening underwater crack, she heard his spine break, collapsing into itself by her hulking muscles.  She bellowed out her orgasm under the water, further grinding her dominant thighs around his spent carcass as her juices flowed.

She floated back up to the top of the water, skin flush, her partner motionless against her naked body.  She peeled her toy off her skin and floated in the direction of the diving board, floating his lifeless corpse across the water.  She positioned him face down on the concrete and put back on his swim trunks (which seemed to slip on easier now, she thought – perhaps because his pelvis was smaller).  If she was fortunate, it would look like a diving accident.  A really horrific diving accident.  She climbed out of the pool and picked up the pieces of her red bikini.  She once again looked back at the broken man, his warped body hanging lackadaisically on the side of the pool.  She felt her nipples tingle as a midnight summer breeze brushed against them and she wrapped the blanket-like towel around her dense body.  She walked towards the showers, thinking about what she would tell her friends at school the next day.

[silentcrs]

Ultimate Power Ultimately Corrupts - The Bridesmaid
By Silentcrs, You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login
Give young women power and they may not use it ethically

She had taken over.  He could smell the remnants of bubblegum on her breath, the light, almost tender perfume that lingered over her teenaged neck.  His jaw had been wrested open by her sinuous, wet tongue as it plunged deep into his vulnerable mouth, a single large yet feminine hand clutching the back of his head as she pulled his face hard towards hers.  He was having trouble breathing and it was easy to see why – she had been "kissing" him like this for almost five minutes and she didn't seem to care much for his lack of respiration.  With her free hand she molested his genitals, her thumb and index finger gripping his glans, pinching it back and forth.  As he looked up at her face he saw clear blue eyes peering down at him from under the bare, dusty light bulb that hung above.  There almost seemed to be some anticipation in the corners of her eyes as he panicked from the lack of breath... some excitement.  His hands weakly pushed back on the staunch chest that was threatening to flatten him, his palms meeting resistance against a firm bosom and round, stiff nipples under a pink t-shirt.   On the shirt was a single word stretched tight: "Bridesmaid".

Several hours earlier he had approached the white picket fence of the capacious suburban home by the river with some anticipation of his own.  While some men opposed the idea of being "meat" (as he had originally thought when he started this job), he had learned to tolerate and eventually enjoy becoming a male stripper.  The fact of the matter was, with the economy being what it is, the job paid quite well.  He could certainly think of worse ways to make hundreds of dollars an hour than standing naked in front of women.  Besides, he fit the image well: lean yet fit, a chiseled jaw, and he was blessed to be well-endowed.  Plus, put a few drinks in some women and it wasn't unusual for the occasional sexual act to make its way into "the show", certainly something any red-blooded male would never turn down.  The bachelorette party this evening looked to be particularly interesting.  The bride was young – still making her way through college – and his understanding was that most of her friends were her age or younger.  It wasn't uncommon for especially attractive young girls to be part of the same "clique", and this woman certainly met the definition of attractiveness.  He always received a photo of the bride-to-be so he could more easily identify her in the crowd.  This one was blonde, petite, fit – the classic frame of a former gymnast.  A somewhat timid smile in the photograph he was given but she seemed to be happy.  If her friends were anything like her, he thought, it was going to be a very enjoyable night.

The party proceeded as per normal.  A friend of the bride (pretty in her own right) led him out of the late summer heat and through a back door into the house's finished basement.  In a bathroom he got into "costume".  He adjusted a snug black g-string and applied a light sheen of oil to his chest and pecs (the girls always seemed to like when he "lubed up").  When the time came, he ran upstairs into a crowded living room full of shrieking, ecstatic girls.  The bride's face turned bright crimson (another common occurrence at these parties) as he immediately went into his scripted performance.  With a broad smile on his face, he unbuttoned his white dress shirt, bouncing his slick, tight pecs for the women.  He walked right up to the young bride, letting her pull his pants down gingerly.  He motioned his barely-covered crotch in a circular movement in front of her face, encouraging her to touch him (which she did so – embarrassingly).  After strutting around the room he got together with the women to take pictures, drinking from their champagne glasses, flashing his stunning white smile and flexing his lean body for the cameras.  The girls seemed delighted – every bridesmaid (in matching pink t-shirts made specifically for the party) was eager to take a picture with the young stud.  As the flashes went off, he briefly thought he saw the shadow of an immense pink mass shift off behind the crowd.  He shook his head as more flashes went off – it must have been the champagne.

After about an hour he went back down the basement stairs to the drowned out sounds of female whistles and hoots, complimenting himself on another job well done.  It wasn't necessarily easy, he though, getting nearly naked in front of a throng of over-aroused women.  As he made his way towards the bathroom, counting the cash payment he had been given, the basement lights unexpectedly winked out.  He tripped over his own legs in the darkness, his hands reaching out hesitantly across the carpeted floor.  He tried to adjust his bearings, making his way back towards the basement stairs.  Without warning, he felt his foot grasped by a sizable fist.  He was pulled back violent, dragged roughly across the carpet before a sizable arm closed around his neck.  A bulky bicep dug under his windpipe in a headlock as he was pulled upwards, his bare back laid against what felt like hard musculature covered in tight cotton.  He stepped warily backwards along with his attacker, the elbow wrenching harder under his chin as he felt himself being pulled into a small, dank room.  He was pitched violently against a stone wall and felt his body crumple to the floor.  The soft sound of a door closed off in the distance.

As his eyes adjusted the darkness, he saw an almost indistinguishable figure reach up towards the ceiling of the room.  It was almost like a statue at night, a larger-than-life sculpture of marble reaching up towards the heavens.  With a metallic click the room was awash with yellow dim light.  A single bare bulb, dusty from misuse, hung from the ceiling.  His eyes shifted about.  He was in a basement closet of some sort: a bucket hung on one wall, a sink adorned another.  One wall (the one he was up against) was bare rock, part of the foundation he imagined.  Across the way, towards the wooden door, he heard metal creaking loudly as if it had been bent.  As his eyes focused, he saw a metal mop handle twisted like a pretzel around the door knob and frame.  Out of the dimness stepped his captor. 

The first thing he saw was her hands.  Womanly, her fingernails painted a light cherry.  They were a stark contrast to what they were attached to.  Corded, muscular forearms.  Thick biceps.  She was packed into a t-shirt that was way too small for her frame, thin pink cotton stretched across a mammoth, billowy chest and rising up above etched abs.  Riding low and curved on her waist, denim shorts had an almost impossible time covering the undersides of her round buttocks as the fabric simply ended high on her gigantic, tanned thighs.  Striated calves flexed as she positioned her legs in a measured stance, her vast arms crossing her chest as she looked down at the man.  With a bare foot, her toes dug between his surprised legs and spread them apart, revealing his g-stringed package.  It was less a "package", she though, and more like a "present".  It was ready to be opened.

The stunned man barely had time to react before she reached down and cupped the sides of his head with her hands, pulling his face swiftly upwards to hers.  She turned his body and slammed his back against the sink, forcing her tongue into his mouth.  Being in the closet like this, she mischievously noted, was almost like the childhood game "seven minutes in heaven".  She gripped the back of his neck and bore in further, toying with the thought of choking him to death with her fingers or even her tongue.  Her other hand drifted down to his sizable package and played with his black g-string briefly before snapping it off and flinging it to the cold floor with her fingers.  She stroked him as she pressed more of her body into his, bending his back painfully against the edge of the sink.  She could feel his spine starting to bend underneath her abs, a result of nothing but her massive weight curving his lithe frame.  She stared down into his frightened eyes, feeling him pitifully press his hands against her considerable chest as she kissed the life out of him.  She licked her lips (and his in the process).  It was delicious.

When she felt he was sufficiently weakened (but still breathing) she let his body collapse face up on the cold floor.  As his breath came in shallow gasps, he opened his eyes again to see her standing directly above his head in the light, her thumbs peeling down the sides of her overstretched denim shorts.  Underneath the denim was a red string thong that was quite literally embedded between her massive, muscular buttcheeks.  She tossed the shorts to the side and pulled the thong up higher, the string causing a pleasant rubbing sensation against her engorged clitoris.  As she did this, she gyrated over the man's face, a stripping move she had seen recently.  With her hands on her hips, she flexed each one of her buttcheeks in turn, watched his eyes in amusement as they darted back and forth to each powerful cheek.  She hummed a familiar song to herself, her fingers slipped between her vaginal lips and nestling themselves over her clitoris, rubbing it. 

Finally she heard her whisper in a singsong voice, "Here comes the bridemaid..."

Her lower body crashed down onto his face with alarming force.  His world was instantly filled with her smells as she began to service her crotch, using his face as a toy and his legs as tools.  She slipped her flowery lips over his mouth and unto his nose, pressing his nostrils deep inside her as she felt his jaw creak under her weight.  She began to feel his mouth chewing on her for air.  She rose up a few more inches and slammed down once again, feeling his skull hit her pelvic bone and crack back against the hard cement.  Enjoying the sounds she did it again, his neck bending backward this time as she felt his chin dig deep into her.  She put her hands backwards on the cold floor, triceps flexed into, and began bucking his face.  She looked down between her legs and was amused to see cracks had formed underneath his head in the basement floor where she had wrecked down with her weight, a small dribble of blood forming behind his head.  She slid her wet lips across his terrified eyes and sputtering mouth.  A hand involuntarily reached up to pinch her nipples as she clenched her buttocks, feeling his skull creak below as she drilled down harder.  She threw her brunette hair back, closing her eyes and pounding her crotch against his unwitting visage with abandon.

After several minutes, she flipped herself around with surprising agility, her butt directly above his eyes as her upper body pressed down on his crotch.  Her massive thighs easily scooped up his handsome face, compressing it against her hefty rump as her flexed calves crossed and packed down against the back of his head.  His eyes grew watery as his vision slowly decreased, columns of muscle closing around his head as the light above him grew dimmer.  In the near darkness he felt her nonchalantly snatch his erect penis in a firm grip before shoving it underneath her t-shirt and into her cleavage.  She had apparently worn no bra.  Her hands gripped the sides of her enormous globes, the dense flesh engulfing his once proud manhood as she mashed it between.  He could feel his erection twisting and buckling under her breasts' weight.  She playfully enclosed the entirety of her chest around his genitals as her arms wrapped underneath his gorgeous butt, flexing him firm and hearing bones creak.  As she tensed her pecs stiff she heard him squeal into the depths of her nether region, a lovely sensation that she enhanced further by grinding her legs tighter and mashing his face flat against her rigid glutes, her bottom vibrating as he bawled out in agony.  She felt his adorable little hands reach unsteadily up and try to pry open the thigh-vice his head was stuck in, but the tips of his fingers barely fit into the muscle striations alone.  She taunted him by flexing her thighs harder, feeling the sides of his skull compress as his hands shakily fell to the floor.  She looked down at her shirt, seeing some precum wet the letters between "e" and "s" of "Bridesmaid".  Her long tongue flicked downwards against the fabric as she swirled it around the increasingly wet purple head.

After thoroughly drenching his penis in saliva, she unwrapped herself from him, unpeeling his swollen visage from the insides of her thighs, enchanting red dimples where his face had been.  She stood up, looking longingly down at his warped body, still slick with oil and barely moving on the cement floor, his bloated erection still standing.  With crossed arms, she lifted the partially wet t-shirt from her hulking frame like a porn star before reaching between her glutes and snapping the thong off gently with her fingertips.  She daintily placed the shirt and thong on the sink edge.  Her body lowered gracefully down on his again, this time her head facing his, as her hand deftly guided his penis into her vagina.  She sighed as he filled her with meat, a delectable fit as her vagina's inner walls slipped over him.  She laid the entirety of her body down onto him, her expansive back and rotund thighs easily obscuring his.  Her hands pushed his lamenting face in between her cleavage, still damp from her tongue and his juices.  Controlling forearms wrapped around the back of his head, wedging his nose harder against her sternum.  Her calves snaked around his lean ones, twisting around his ankles as she stretched out a few times, threatening him with what was to come.

With an exhale, her thighs slowly spread outwards as she flexed her kegel-practiced muscles, gripping his penis from the base up to the tip in her vagina.  She could feel his trembling lips start to vocally oppose against her pecs, an action she quickly silenced by crushing her bosom around the sides of his head.  Her thighs spread out farther, bending his tendons outward as her carved thighs flexed under the bare bulb.  She loved the oily feel of his lanky body wrapped under hers, the sinewy muscles giving only the slightest opposition to her bulging ones.  She threw her head back as she separated her legs farther, feeling his bony pelvis itself start to resist her stretching, his testicles spread flat under her crotch.  She swallowed her upper body around his head harder, compacting down until she heard a rewarding snap.  She saw a dribble of blood in her cleavage – she smiled as she realized she had broken his nose.  Stretching further, her legs were much longer than his and she was almost able to extend them out to the walls.  She felt ligaments start to strain, resistance giving way under her flexing.  She rolled her tough chest over his facial features, his once pretty jaw doing something entirely unpretty as it dislocated with a crack.  She started humping him, her vaginal squeezes increasing.  With an aberrant moan she widened her legs out at almost 90 degree angles – like a gymnast – the sounds of tendons ripping softly as she felt herself begin to shudder.  She pistoned harder, his body going silent.    She felt the orgasm slide through her lower body and, with a final loud crunch, she felt his pelvis break in half against the cold floor.  She milked the crucified man on the basement floor, her arms instinctively crushing his head harder, as she crunched his facial bones against her stone chest.  The basement floor vibrated along with her

After lying in afterglow for some time, she once again extricated herself from her toy.  While his penis was still engorged and somewhat intact against the side of his, the rest of his body was not.  He was shattered.  Standing up and sliding her tight shorts over her firm glutes, she glanced down at his compacted torso, smirking at a pool of seminal fluid where his crotch had been.  She returned the taut pink shirt to her upper frame, placing her thong and the remnants of his g-string in her shorts' pocket.  She snapped the twisted metal mop handle off the door knob with a light flick of fingers and placed his naked body over her shoulder in a fireman's carry, slipping out under the cover of night.  Several days later, the police would find his body on a riverbank some miles away.

[silentcrs]

Ultimate Power Ultimately Corrupts - The Triplets
By Silentcrs, You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login
Give young women power and they may not use it ethically

He awoke to the smell of talcum powder and baby oil, a chalky scent wafting through the air.  His squinting eyes slowly opened to a brightly lit white room filled with glossy furniture.  A dainty dresser, wooden chairs, a small desk -- almost like a child's room.  Crayon drawings of brightly colored scenes adorned the walls: stick figures of men in rectangle "pants" and women in triangle "dresses".  At least, he thought they were women -- they appeared much larger than the men.  His skull throbbed and he involuntarily palmed the back of his head to feel a rapidly growing welt.  How did that happen?  He was woozy getting up, so he instead turned his body over on the carpet to face the other direction, and it was then that he saw the surreal.  Three giant young women in matching "baby doll" dresses, identical faces and silky black hair done up in pigtails.  Massive, muscular bodies filling way-too-tight "children's" clothing.  Swollen calves stuffed into white knee-high socks and matching "little girl" shoes.  Thin, fragile skirts barely covering solid columns of thigh meat, each leg bigger than his torso.  Matching sets of tan, bare, rippling abs flexing slightly with each soft inhale and exhale.  Enormous round bosoms and pecs crammed into skin-tight white blouses, chests heaving.  Their arms were nearly bare, the sleeves of the blouses ending almost at their shoulders above bulky biceps.  Their faces were angelic, done up with light makeup to feature childish rosy red cheeks.  A single tiny lollipop of different flavors -- cherry, grape and lime -- were in each one of their large but feminine hands, twirled along their pink tongues with elegant fingers.  They looked down at him, quite literally towering over his body, as they bent forward in unison while continuing to twirl the lollipops across their tongues.  "Little man," they breathed out together, "would you like to play with us?"

Earlier in the day had been quite different.  A nip was in the air as late October had settled over the suburban town.  The young high school teacher had put out a punch bowl of candy for today's Halloween visitors.  Quiet, single and unassuming, the man handed out treats to young children and their parents, remarking positively on their choice of costumes as he dutifully smiled at each one.  As day passed into evening, the stash of candy got smaller and smaller.  The older trick and treaters came out -- the ones that were permitted to come out at night -- and as he waved the last of the high schoolers away darkness fell over the suburbs.  Around midnight he brought the bowl back inside and was heading upstairs to bed when he heard one last ring at the doorbell.  He grumbled slightly under his breath and made his way back downstairs, determined to give away his last bits of candy to the latecomers and get some sleep.  He opened the door and was stunned.  Three giant young woman in matching "little girl" costumes that barely fit their bulging frames.  They weren't students at his high school -- maybe the next town over.  Their faces and bodies were identical.  They may have been triplets.  His eyes scanned them up and down, briefly fantasizing about their naked flesh crawling all over his.  He shook his head to relieve himself of the image, but it was already too late.  The girls were watching him and saw in his eyes the pattern they knew so well.  They knowingly glanced at one another before wedging themselves through the small doorway.  One of the girls grabbed a handful of lollipops from the bowl.  Another grasped his forehead with a large hand and violently smashed the back of his skull against a living room wall, cracks leading up to a picture frame.  As his eyes closed he could feel himself being carted over a generous shoulder, and as he collapsed into unconsciousness he could barely feel the wheels below him as the car screeched off into the night.

When he awoke in the white room he initially thought he was dreaming.  The scene was a surreal mix of childish themes and massive sexualized beasts.  He quickly learned, however, that everything was quite real.  One of the girls reached down with a single large hand and grasped his neck, pulling him upwards and bodily off the floor, legs dangling.  As she neared his face to hers, he could smell the cherry lollipop still melting in her mouth.  She stared into his eyes as her tongue came out and wrapped its way around the candy's red head.  She watched with barely concealed amusement as his eyes followed the tip of her tongue, nestling against the edges of the pop and caressing it against her plush lips.  She pressed the candy deep into her mouth, rubbing it against the side of her cheek as she heard him gulp audibly.  She closed her mouth and looked into his eyes, sucking gently.  Finally, he heard a loud crunch as her teeth shifted, followed by a deep swallow.  She opened her mouth and drew out her tongue, the wet stick completely devoid of candy.  He shook as she smiled knowingly.  The other girls formed a triangle around the hanging man and he could smell the powder brushed against their vast cleavage.  They appeared to be wearing no bras under their thin, childish dresses.  "I want to play with him," one girl announced with a flip of her black pigtails, grasping a frail arm and leg and proceeding to pull his body towards one side.  "No, I want to play with him," another replied, grasping the opposing limbs and pulling harshly back as her muscles flexed against the baby doll dress.  The two girls started a tug of war with his body, jerking it back and forth.  He could feel the center of his chest straining as he was pulled to one side and then another, his groin bending awkwardly as they yanked his thin thighs open.  It almost felt like was being drawn and quartered.  Finally, one of the oversized girls got down on her knees in front of the man.  "Hold him still," she demanded huskily, "I'm going to play with him."  The other girls obeyed and held firm, wedging his small calves crudely between their solid ones as they stretched his arms out, his body spread eagle between them.  Taking the lollipop out of her mouth briefly, the young girl on her knees brought her face to his straining crotch.  She looked up at him with deep dark eyes, her youthful pigtails belaying her mature motives as he could feel her warm breath pant against the outside of his khakis.  She wrapped her teeth around the front of the fabric and with an aggressive growl tore downwards, ripping it off in addition to some of his gray cotton underwear.  Her moist mouth lingered near the head of his penis as she brought her lollipop back up to her lips, rubbing the underside of his head with the globe of sticky candy.  "Little man, this lollipop is almost as big as you," she chortled.   She saw a drop of fluid dribble out his head and onto the candy.  She licked it gracefully off as he shivered.  "You'll taste much better, though."

She descended on him like a tornado, engulfing him near-instantly with her entire mouth and sucking so hard his pelvis was pulled physically forwards.  The other girls giggled as his body spasmed, unable to wrench himself from their powerful grip.  They watched as their sister's beautiful face ducked in and out below them, pigtails flinging back and forth as she stroked up and down.  Her rosy cheeks distending with each stroke, his manhood pressing under their blushing complexion as her eyes stared into his.  She scraped along the sensitive areas with her perfect white teeth, carving light lines along the bloated red skin.  The other two girls reached down with their free hands and cupped his testicles, kneading them with their long elegant fingers.  They felt their sister's soft face repeatedly brush against their hands, the pigtails bouncing against their slabs of arms, and were encouraged to grip tighter.  The girl on the floor pistoned her mouth faster, her lush lips gliding along the wet base of his penis effortlessly.  Her scarlet cheeks grew concave as she sucked him like a straw, her cute nostrils breathing in and out so she could keep him in her mouth longer.  She looked up with a mixture of innocence and wickedness in her eyes.  He was close.  He trembled as she pulled him out, tickling his head with just the tip of her tongue.  Her lips explored, nibbling on his testicles.  She gripped his penis in one powerful hand, fingernails painted brightly pink.  Her thumb flicked his glans casually as she tilted her pigtailed head to one side.

"Come for me, mister," she begged mock innocently.

He groaned as he shot out across her supple face and onto her waiting tongue.  Some semen sprayed up into her black hair, streaking down her pigtails and falling onto her broad shoulders.  She pressed his penis along the outside of her rosy cheeks, rubbing his juices over the soft skin.  One hand went up to a pigtail, pinching it between her index finger and thumb.  She brought the shiny digits to her lips and sucked each one as she looked up wantonly, pushing them in and out of her mouth as more semen dripped down her baby girl dress.  As he spent his last juices, the other girls slumped his exhausted body to the carpet while one reached for a cell phone on the dresser.  She pointed it down at her sister, still sucking her wet fingers as the facial continued to trickle down her cheeks.  As the shot was snapped her eyes looked devilishly up at the camera.  The other two girls pulled the remnants of the man's clothes off as the facial girl made her way over to one of the wooden chairs, still licking her lips.  They positioned the man below them so that he was straight upwards, naked.  Facing one another, they turned their faces briefly to hear the sound of wood straining as their semen-stained sister was trying to wedge her huge body into the little chair.  Seconds later, it collapsed into a plume of splinters.  "I hope I don't do to his face what you just did to that chair," the girl standing above his face snickered.  "I kinda hope you do," facial girl replied nonchalantly while sucking her index finger. 

The two girls above him joined hands and began to menacingly sing, squatting their bulk with each line, "Ring around the rosie, pocket full of posies."  Childish white panties barely covered the breadth of their shaved crotches as their thighs flexed awfully above his quaking body.  He could see wetness through the cloth.  "Ashes, ashes," they sang, their colossal mass casting his world to fall into shadow.  "We all fall down!"  He felt his frame compress inward as tremendous weights crushed down onto him, his spine digging into the carpet.  The girls heard the floor creak in protest as they settled their immensity onto their toy's feeble frame. One spread her flowery lips over his feebly protesting mouth as her football-hard rump covered his fearful eyes.  The other crudely pulled her panties to the side, stuffing his penis into her cavernous vagina and leaning backward, feeling his doughy thighs squash below her rolling mass.  The two began to hump his body, baby doll dresses and all, as the third reached for her sister's cell phone and set it to video.  She kneeled down in front of them and started recording.  "What are you doing, sisters?" she asked.  "Playing," one replied in a little girl's voice, continuing to hump his outmatched body.  She turned the camera to that girl riding his face.  "And what are you playing, sis?"  The girl shifted herself, lifting her dress up to reveal the man's visage, dark red, struggling for air below her as she bored her crotch into his mouth.  "Hide and go seek," she winked.  The girl holding the camera leaned down to get a close up of the man's face -- or what could be seen of his face -- as his lips thrashed for air against hers.  She slid her wet slit up and down his countenance.  "I don't know, sis," the camera girl said, bringing it back up to show her sister's full body, "I don't think he can breathe."  The girl riding his face stopped, looking into the camera as she put her hands on her hips.  "What do you think," she asked with a throaty voice, "I'm going to kill this man with my pussy?"  The camera girl chuckled as she turned to face her other sister.  "And what are you doing?" she asked.  "Exercises," the other sister replied, lifting her thighs up off the ground.  The man's pubic area went up for the ride, gripped tightly with her vagina.  Only the weight of her other sister kept his body from coming completely off the ground.  She crashed back down and repeated the maneuver several times more, one hand involuntarily groping a large erect nipple through her blouse while the pinky of another pressed against her soft lower lip.  The camera zoomed in on his overwhelmed genitals, being squashed and stretched beyond their limits by her sister's violent humping.  The young woman pulled up hard.  "I don't know, sis.  I think you may need more weight for those exercises."  The girl snarled as she crushed back down, "Or a bigger weight bar."  All three burst into laughter. 

The camera girl took several steps back.  "Why don't we show the folks at home how much sisters love one another?"  The two prodigious girls sighed contently and embraced, wrapping their thick arms in a hug as cords of muscle wrapping around one another.  As their lips met, they reached behind each others' backs and tore the girlish clothes off.  Rippling muscular flesh glided across one another as their tongues sank in deep, still drilling the petrified man into the carpet below them.  Their erect nipples bent against one another as their breasts slipped over soft skin, a sensation that caused each to pant erotically into the other's open mouth.  As their hands stroked wide backs of solid unyielding muscle, they felt another tiny set of hands reach pathetically up, fingers desperately trying to ungrip bulging thighs, falling off their huge volume.  They looked down and whimpered in satisfaction at the man struggled, tongues dancing between their lips.  They could feel his hands barely make their way up over their column-like thighs, hardly gripping capacious layers of muscle.  One of the sisters grabbed a pliable hand and tugged his arm harshly, stuffing his frail knuckles into her sister's nether region.  The other sister followed suit, scraping the man's fingernails over her sister's clitoris in the process.  The two laid their weight down more, bending his arms painfully as their vaginas sucked on their toy's unwitting fists.  The camera girl removed her clothes and started fingering herself at the sight.  The girls on top tasted each other's tongues as they pleasured themselves to the sounds of wrist tendons bending.  After some time clasping one another, one leaned her lips against the other's ear.  "Make a wish," she hissed erotically.  The two girls decoupled, leaning away from one another.  Triceps flexed as they pressed their palms backwards against the floor and slipped their calves under his puny body, compressing him into compacted muscular vices with their thighs.  They pulled back further, still milking his groin and mouth respectively, as they extended him.  Their chests flared out, stiff nipples standing proudly below their beautiful faces.  Their swelling abs spread taut, lower groin muscles still undulating, still exploiting pleasure from his body.   They tilted their heads back as they pulled, pigtails glancing off their rigid, etched backs.  Closing their eyes, they began to hear the sounds they sought.  Abdominal muscles bending, ribs bending.  Obstinate in their power.  They cooed in unison, turning to face the camera as they licked their luxurious lips. 

The camera girl sat down next to them, still pleasuring herself.  "Remember our favorite game when we were younger?"  "Airplane," one answered, as all three grinned wryly.  The two girls detached their bodies from the curled man who was now sobbing silently.  The facial girl handed the camera to a sister, laying herself on the floor.  She rolled over slightly and seized the man's thigh and neck with her fists, laying herself flat on her back and benching his light weight several times easily.  When she was ready, she thrust the pain-wracked man high overhead and placed his stomach on the soles of her bare feet, flexing them straight upwards until he was lifted high by her sturdy thighs and gams.  The other two girls lay down next to her, parallel to his body.  They too thrust their thighs upward, pressing the base of their pretty feet flat against his neck and upper thighs respectively.  The wiggled their painted red toes in anticipation against his bare skin as the girl at his head faced the camera upwards.  His terrified face levitated above theirs as he peered down at their naked bodies, their ample meat spread out below him.  "Do you know what our other favorite game was when we were younger, mister?" The girl gazed into his horrified eyes.  "Mouse Trap!"  They sliced their long legs out and scissored them back in concurrence, letting his body fall a fraction of a second before wrapping him with their deep, corded thighs, knotting their ankles tight.  His upper legs, stomach and neck were all sheathed in solid muscle, monstrous bulges glistening in the light.  He felt his frame start to collapse as the girls started to twist their legs.  His neck was first, the friction of one young girl's inner thighs hard against his trachea.  She slowly turned her pigtailed head sideways as she watched him in bemused interest with the camera.  The middle girl bended her knees slightly and cracked them into his chest, squeezing his upper torso tight in the other direction and flattening his lungs as she grunted in soft exertion.  She loved the feel of ribs bending to her muscles.  The final girl kneaded his limp upper thighs between hers, feeling his muscles wane, one of her upper thighs positioned just right to flex against his crotch.  She rolled her upper leg upwards, flattening his erection against his stomach as she ground down, smiling as she heard a whine escape his lips.  The girls chewed on him in opposite directions, wringing out his body as they felt his bones and organs delightfully whither.  When he started gurgling, and a dribbled of blood left his lips, they knew it was time. 

All three triplets whipped their legs downwards together, crashing his twisted body into the floor as the desk and other furniture jumped from the impact.  The girls pressed their wide chests and backs against one another, fingertips reaching around to cup each others' breasts, as the man squirmed entrapped in their legs.  The two in back began to gnaw lewdly on the necks in front of them, occasionally reaching up to nip a tender ear, as the front girl fingered herself and the flexed.  They spooned their powerful upper bodies against one another, feeling their collective warmth grow as they continued to grind their impenetrable legs around a fragile body.  They wrung together and finally, with a harsh twist, they heard the satisfying crack of a broken neck and spine.  The girls orgasmed in unison, their lower bodies unconsciously humping the broken corpse below them as their hands gripped each other's thick, tan bodies.  Their juices flowed against his shattered frame as they spread their fingers, bringing them to each other's lips to taste.  They compressed in the afterglow, kissing each other's broad muscled backs as they fondled one another to the sounds of their angelic exhales.

The girls unhitched themselves from their toy, looking in gratification at his deformed body crinkled on the carpet.  They picked up the remnants of their dresses and grabbed the phone, eager to see the resulting picture and video.  They shut the lights off as they left the now-quiet white room.  They would have to think of equally good costumes next year.

[silentcrs]

ULTIMATE POWER ULTIMATELY CORRUPTS: The Detective
by silentcrs

The walls were cold cinderblocks painted gray, dimly lit stone under a simple light fixture that had suffered from years of neglect.  The floor was equally cold, dusty cement that had been poured in the 50s and hadn't seen much love beyond the old wooden broom sweeping it every other week.  The door was locked and the room was windowless.  There were no cameras.  In the center stood a short, rickety four-legged table, light brown wood weakened from years of misuse.  A large paper cup of water sat on top.  He sat at one end in a rusting, pale-green rolling chair, eyes transfixed at the shadow across from him.  Despite the cold, he could feel the heat coming from the other end of the table, the warmth that radiated from that massive body in the cool air.  "Want to know how I killed the priest?" he heard the young woman purr.   Thin overwrought metal squeaked as she repositioned herself in the chair, wheels edging outward to prevent its collapse under the weight.  "I started with my legs."  He could almost hear the thick columns rubbing against one another as she crossed them, bare tan skin gliding against bare skin.  "Want to know something else?" she whispered. He could barely make out her long fingers as she tugged on her blonde hair gently, twirling the tips nonchalantly.  "I think you want to be here," she breathed.

For months he had been following the murders.  At least twenty-three suspected, eleven more under investigation.  In every instance the victim had been male.  Bodies mangled, rolled, crushed.  Signs of sexual abuse but no signs of forced entry.  Detective Jim Rasmond hadn't seen anything like it in over twenty years on the force.  Besides being male, there was no pattern to the victims.  No one race or ethnicity was targeted.  The victims weren't universally affluent or poor.  The perps obviously weren't interested in money -- in some cases wallets and valuables had been left untouched.  What unsettled him more, though, was the patterns with the criminals themselves.  The murders had similar themes: off the beaten path near a girls' high school; alongside a get-together of young girlfriends; near a young woman's clothing store.  In every case, the smell of the crime scene perplexed him.  A mixture of seminal fluids and blood -- that much was to be expected with rapes and homicides.  But there was always a light, airy fragrance as well.  Flowery, fruity.  The smell of youth.

It was with equal parts happenstance and luck that the police got their hands on  the digital camera.  A young man walking his dog had found it early one morning in the woods near his home.  After viewing several pictures on it he hurried to the police.  They were aghast at what they saw.  Photos of young women -- massive young women -- and their "conquests".  Image after image of distorted male bodies, some in the grip of active horror.  The girls, some looking to be only in high school, in their own throes of savage ecstasy.  Oversized sexual beasts tearing at the weak male flesh around them.  The men were impossible to identify.  The bodies were too brutalized and in some cases were covered by their captors.  The police would need access to the corpses to ID them.  The women, on the other hand, were cleverly framed as to avoid headshots in nearly all photos (and the ones that included their faces were pointed more at their victims, the girls somewhat out of focus).  It was with considerable "fortune" that they came across one picture of a girl crushing her partner over the trunk of a red sports car.  There was just enough of a license plate showing to do a search with motor vehicles.  Jim set his guys on it.

That night, Rasmond brought the camera home to his nondescript city apartment.  He was technically not supposed to bring evidence home but no one in homicide was going to fight him on it.  He was their superior.  He poured a tall flask of whisky and set the camera down on a messy cocktail table in his darkened living room.  For months he had visited the crime scenes, pored over the evidence.  They were no closer to solving the cases when this camera had showed up.  Evidence right now literally sitting in his lap.  He took a quick swig and flipped it on.   The light from the display lit up his face, the photographs reflecting in his glasses.  A schoolyard, a girls' field hockey field, a high school carwash fundraiser.   The men.  Flattened body.  Mashed corpse.  A man's face frozen in a scream.  The girls.  Blonde.  Brunette  Redhead.   Powerful yet juvenile female bodies.  Nude.  He shifted his knees anxiously.  Sweat dripping down etched muscles onto paler, weaker forms.  Statuettes obscuring men with their shapely carved muscle.  Faces glowing in rapture, mouths pursed into erotic shapes, fresh hair thrown back.  His heart began to palpitate.  Clear blue eyes.  A tongue licking teenage lips.  A devilish smile.  He cast the camera down on the table and rushed to his bedroom.

A week later they brought in the suspect, a cheerleader at a local highschool.  She was apprehended willingly, which perturbed Rasmond.  Killers typically did everything in their power to resist arrest, whether it be professing their innocence or running for the hills.  The girl did neither.  They knocked on the door of her modern suburban home.  Her parents were not there.  Her huge body stepped out in a form-fitting white t-shirt and dark blue Daisy Dukes.  Her chest seemed to pressure the thin white fabric to its limit, deeply tanned skin etched underneath.  Cables of potent muscle spread across her wide back, which seemed to spread like wings with every step she took, her blonde hair cascading across it. The front of her t-shirt was stretched taut across her enormous cleavage, nipples poking out menacingly.  Powerful arms, barely covered by the fabric, glowed in the warm sun.  Rippling abs undulated under the bottom of the shirt, a metallic piercing just visible on her belly button underneath.  Cords of braided thigh muscle flexed with every step, her buttocks seemingly jiggling under the Daisy Dukes (even though her glutes were rock hard).  Robust, lined calves ended in white ankle socks and cute athletic sneakers.  She was much taller than the police, their heads barely coming up to her breasts.  She seemed to know exactly why they were here.  She calmly walked down to the patrol car and wedged her enormous body into the back seat without saying a word.

Rasmond scheduled the interrogation for very late that evening in room 13D.  The other deputies were confused.  13D hadn't been used in years and there was a dearth of officers available at that hour.  Rasmond chuckled confidently at their concerns -- he "could handle one little girl".  As day swept into dusk, he pulled a bottle of whisky from his desk drawer.  Light filtered in through the blinds as he drank and thought.  Tonight would be interesting.  He heard the sounds of much of the department leaving, cars drifting off into the distance.  He stood up, a little shakily, and made his way towards 13D at the unused side of the building.  When he got there, an officer was standing guard outside the locked room.  "That won't be necessary," he said to the young man under his breath.  The officer paused.  "Just leave us alone and keep the door locked."  The officer tentatively followed his instructions, locking Rasmond in.  As he heard the door click and footsteps walk away down the corridor, Rasmond's eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room.  He could smell the age of it, the dust, the dankness.  It reminded him of the first interrogation he had done twenty years ago.  He smelled something else, though.  Fresh.  He walked over to the old green metal chair and pulled it up, the thin metal creaking.  He opened a manila folder open on the table, drank a cup of water and read out loud.

"March 26.  Girls locker room at the high school.  Cheerleading coach.  Now in coma."

"May 4.  Motel.  College professor.  Dead."

"July 29.  Bathhouse near a beach.  College football player.  Dead."

"September 17.  Park near suspect's home.  Two men," he raised his eyebrow.  "Both dead."

"November 14.  Catholic church.  Priest.  Dead.  Suspect not verified." 

He pitched the manila folder down, staring across the table.  His eyes were having a hard time getting used to the light.  The silence was deafening.  The mass in front of him sat motionless.  He could barely hear the sounds of her cute little nostrils breathing in and out.  "Want to know how I killed the priest?" she finally spoke.  He could feel the cement floor somehow groan as she shifted her weight in the chair, crossing her shapely legs as she reached up to tug the tips of her long blonde hair.  "I started with my legs."  He watched the water in the cup sitting in front of him waver slightly as she moved her mass.  "Want to know something else?"  She curled her hair into a ponytail.  "I think you want to be here."  She stood up slowly, the shadow of her bulk neatly eclipsing the ceiling light.  Rasmond sat silent.  She stepped daintily around the table, reaching down to grasp the cup of water. 

"It was late morning on a Saturday," she began, drinking a bit.  The cup sat motionless on her plush bottom lip as she recalled the day.  "I had chosen it specifically.  Small town church.  Barely any parishioners.  It was confession day," she paused.  "I had a lot to confess."  Rasmond shifted uneasily.  "The place was empty, just as I had planned it.  The only young priest was in the confessional.  I crushed the brass handle on the church's doors as a makeshift lock.  They really don't make doors like they used to," her voice wavered off.  "I admit I had a hard time fitting myself into the confessional, but I have a hard time fitting into most places.  I started confessing my sins."  Her eyes started to sparkle.  "You should have heard him, detective.  First the incredulousness, then the fear, then the shock as I told my past through that perforated wood.  But also the heavy breathing, the quiet moans.  Most men wouldn't admit it," she spoke gently as some of the water dribbled down from the cup and down onto the white shirt covering her heaving chest, "but that's how they really want to go."

"It's always fun to see them fight back," she continued, walking full circle around the detective's chair.  "I pretty much turned that confessional into splinters, what with the old wood.  He was such a cute thing in his little pastor getup."  She leaned her extensive back against a stone wall, drinking more from the cup.  "It was so easy to pull him up with that neckband, his legs sprawling.  And then I saw it," she smiled a bit at her ingenuity.  "The bath they used to baptize babies.  Filled with holy water.  I carried his little holy body over to that bath.  'Time to release the sin,' I said.  I bent his tiny spine back across that pool as I lowered my huge chest onto his face.  He pawed at my arms and breasts as the holy water seeped up into my shirt.  It was this one, I think," she tugged at bottom of her t-shirt as she drank more from the cup.  Water splashed down onto the white cloth.  Rasmond took a deep breath.  "The way he struggled," she continued as she licked her lips, "as my wet chest completely covered his skull.  The way my blonde hair floated on the top of the holy water above him.  The light coming in from the stained glass windows.  It was all delicious."

She walked to the opposite side of the room, placing the empty cup down on the table as she crossed it.  "He had almost drowned when I took him out," she said, "our bodies both soaking wet.  I peeled off my clothes and tore off his.  In the corner of the church, right as the lunchtime sunlight was coming in, was a marble statue of Jesus on the cross.  It was perfect.  He started to protest as I carried him over but I quickly silenced him by crushing his mouth with these," she hefted her huge globes up.  "When I got to the statue, I spread him eagle with his back against the figure.  I wedged his calves around the bottom of the crucifix and pressed his wrists outward along the cross.  I wrapped my legs around his torso and stuffed his dick into my pussy.  I smacked his head backwards with my chest and squeezed my thighs around the marble.  It was just me, him and Jesus."  Her mouth twisted into a wry grin.  "When it was time, I pressured my inner abductors around that weak pelvis of his and heard it fracture, along with the marble.  My arms wrapped around the back of that crucifix and squeezed tight.  I could hear stone shatter alongside his cries.  It felt awesome to crush that marble," she licked her lips again.  "And everything in between."

Rasmond shook involuntarily as she walked over to him, shirt still wet.  "You've been following us for a long time," she murmured, reaching down to run her finger along his shirt collar.  "We know you have.  We're not stupid.  But you're not even on the cusp of finding us all."  She leaned down and whispered into his ear.  "There's more you don't know about.  There's more of us all the time."  She bit his earlobe.  "And we're getting bigger all the time."  She heard him moan softly.  "I admit I've never done a police officer," she said, slinking out of her Daisy Dukes.  Her shaved crotch was wrapped in a dark red g-string.  She raised her tight white shirt off her body with crossed hands, letting her ponytail fall onto her back.  "But there's a first time for everything."

She grasped his neck with one hand quickly as the green metal chair spun to the floor with a crash, slamming his back onto the rickety table, feeling it strain as she held him down.  Her other hand reached down and grasped the crotch of his pants.  With a fierce rip she yanked them free along with his underwear, pleased to see his erection.  She took both her hands and clenched the folds of his shirt.  Buttons flew into the air as she tore them to the sides.  It was as if she was dissecting him on the table.  She looked at his crotch in anticipation, pulling his body up off the table and lifting him upside down, wrapping her huge forearms around the back of his shaking butt as she breathed hotly onto his crotch.  She teased the head of his penis with a flickering tongue, watching with amusement as it quivered.  She took a deep breath and ducked forward, swallowing him completely as her strong tongue wrapped around his shaft.  He started to whine loudly against her hard thighs.  "Thay'be always got to brotest," she said with a full mouth.  She reached one hand down and coarsely stuffed his face upwards into her crotch.  She clenched her grooved upper thighs tightly around his frail skull as she squeezed.  He felt his ears pop as the pressure increased and his vision grew dark.  The young woman sucked harder as she could feel him growing fainter in her strong arms.  She brought a hand up to his testicles and squeezed with her fingertips as she stroked in and out with her wet throat.  When she felt them start to vibrate, she grasped his testicles full with a forceful palm.  She crushed her hand and, with the grace of a professional wrestler, piledrived him downward into the cement floor.  His skull cracked loudly against the ground under her crotch.  She gnawed at his penis as she shifted her bulk on him, scraping her teeth along its sensitive edges.  With a muffled cry she felt him starting to spurt.  She sat on the cold floor, continuing to suck out his juices as she felt a warm pool of blood from his head expand under her folded thighs, his shrieks buried under her hard flesh.

When he was spent, she laid her back on the cold cement floor and lifted him rightside up over her.  She could see the skull fracture she had just caused as well as his wet penis (still erect) hovering over her nether region.  One of his eyes was swollen shut as he looked down at the immense body laid below.  She snapped her g-string off with a flick, taking his crotch tenderly into hers, slipping his penis into her warm vagina and wrapping her solid legs around his outmatched torso.  She pressed his face down into her bountiful chest, nestling his nose in her vast cleavage.  She embraced his back with her biceps and forearms, constricting his upper body tightly in their mass.  As his arms and legs were immobilized, he looked up through his one remaining good eye at the youthful face of his captor.  The blonde locks, the clear blue eyes.  He could smell the young skin of the cleavage he was being packed down into.  The flower, fruity smell.  As her huge breasts wrapped around the edges of ears, he could barely make out the words mouthed on her glossy lips.  The young lips she licked so eagerly in the photo.

"Goodbye, detective."

Her arms and legs compacted inwards, resisted by nothing more than the weak human male between them.  As her vagina continued to suck on his penis, he could feel the large rolling mass of her breasts collapse inward, his skull bones cracking in his ears.  He felt his ribs bend and snap, pressured by her thick biceps as she brought them closer.  Her thighs coiled around her prey, completely enveloping his lower back as she felt his tendons stretch and deform.  She slid the back of her calves around his buttocks, forcing his crotch deeper into hers.  She felt his tears dripping down against her warm wet chest, his nose crunching against her pecs.  She flexed her upper body more, pleasurably feeling his whimpering little lips bawling into her cleavage.  His throes were delectable.  She brought her lips down to kiss the top of his forehead, to thank him for his suffering, the only part of his body visible in her young, muscular sheath.  She continued to milk his genitals with hers as she threw her head back, content in the thought that in seconds they would be the closest they could possibly be.

She felt his penis once again throb and knew it was time.  She compressed his body into hers, her muscles completely enveloping his diminutive male body head to toe.  Her crotch caved in around his, grinding his once proud manhood.  She heard the bones crackling, the sinews snapping, the lovely sounds of a man broken only with her teenage muscles.  As the exquisite sounds echoed against the cold walls she felt his penis weakly pulse in her overpowering womanhood.  A final passionate gift.  She gave in to the sensation, bucking an orgasm out of his warped frame as she yelled in ecstasy.  Seminal fluids mixed with the blood on the cold, rigid floor.  She wrung his condensed body for several more minutes, enchanted by her strength as she flexed around the defeated form.

She slowly readjusted to the dim room in the post-coital afterglow.  She unhooked herself with a light pop, seeing the disfigured, minute body slide off her tanned skin.  Her muscles felt raw with power.  She stood up and wiped the blood and juices off her body with his raggedy shirt, dropping it unceremoniously on his prone remains.  She wrapped her body back in her tight clothes, fitting seemingly more snuggly due to her exertion.  She walked over to the door and broke the lock off with a delicate twist of her wrist.  She looked back at the pale corpse of the detective, smiling at her accomplishment.  She had more time now.  They would all have more time.

[nickolai]

yeah silentcrs has great stuff.  I wish he would come back and write some new stuff ... his style is great.