Amazon's Reign: Off with their Heads! by Zanderas

[WilfredDDeVoe]

I found this one stashed on my hard drive.
I don't remember where it came from.
Enjoy

Amazon's Reign: Off with their Heads!
•   by zanderasgoth17, 13 minutes, 22s ago
•   Literature / Prose / Fiction / Science Fiction / Introductions & Chapters
It had been a good day of practice for the Hale soccer team. Their coach hadn't worked them too hard today and the early fall weather had been just the right amount of cool. The locker room would have been filled with happy chatter, jokes, and the occasional prank. Sadly, would have were the keywords, as none of that was happening now. No, those had stopped the moment the "Queens" had graced them with their presence.
Queens... pah, it was a title Richard despised, yet couldn't deny it fit. The three women, Kimberly, Rebecca, and Susan, were royalty in all the ways that mattered. Even for amazons the three were big, the shortest, Susan, being at least fourteen feet. That alone would have granted them "privileges" but not enough to rule the college. No, that was thanks to all three's parents being the biggest donors to Hale. And no one, not the teachers, deans, or even the President of the college, wanted to be the one to explain why Mommy's "little" princess was unhappy. Even if said princess was in the wrong or sent someone to the hospital... And the police were just as happy to look the other way once they received donations. Which was why the Queens could just storm into the boy's locker room and decide it was time for the soccer team to be their personal toys.
"Come now, don't be so bashful around us, Brent. It's not like we haven't all seen it before and, besides, those clothes really are dirty," Kimberly said as she prodded their star center, Brent, with her knee. Kimberly was the leader of the queens and the biggest of the three. Standing at fourteen and a half feet tall, she towered over everyone, even most amazons. Her blonde hair was cut short, just barely passing her ears and her blue eyes twinkled down at Brent. She was wearing her usual skirt, which she knew was short enough to let men see up, and a button up shirt. Despite the slight smile on her face, it was obvious to everyone it was a mask to hide her real emotions.
Brent had been halfway through changing when the three girls had stormed in. Poor guy had been the closest to them and was, now, their sole focus. Richard wished he could help, but knew it was pointless. Besides, he couldn't risk getting on the three's bad side right now and Kimberly always enjoyed toying with him.
Fighting back a sigh, Brent did as he was told and began to remove the rest of his uniform. Brent was a senior at the college and had been around long enough to know the "rules". Kimberly might have acted playful, but the unspoken threat was anything but. Brent WAS going to remove his clothing, his choice was whether it was going to be by force or not.
The Queens all started to giggle as Brent took off his pants. He and the rest of the team tried to look away as Brent stuffed his dirty uniform into his locker. The three girls continued to eye him as Brent reached down to pic- oh no, Brent no!
Richard wanted to warn Brent, but knew it was too late. The moment Brent's hand touched his jeans, Rebecca's boot shot out and smashed him into the locker. Brent cried out in pain as he was slammed into the unyielding metal and Rebecca let him fall to the ground before stomping down onto his side, thankfully not with her full weight.
Rebecca was the muscle of the Queens and looked the part too. She was the second tallest, being a bit over fourteen feet, but was clearly the strongest. Her tight shirt and leggings made her muscle definition obvious for all to see and she was more than happy to show off that strength. Usually by breaking someone's limbs on "accident"... Her black hair was cut very short and Richard could not remember ever seeing her wearing anything but boots. Today it was thigh-high leather boots...with heels...
"Who the FUCK told you to put your clothes back on?! Stupid manlet, I am going to kick some goddamn sense into you!" Rebecca said as her foot moved back. Richard swore and had to tighten his grip on his own clothes to stop himself from leaping out. The foot started to come forward an-
"Rebecca," Kimberly said, causing Rebecca's boot to stop inches from Brent. Brent's color had drained completely and he stared in unhidden horror at the heel frozen in front of him.
"Let's not ruin our soccer team's star player in the middle of soccer season. I think that nasty heel wound is more than enough of a reminder," Kimberly finished with an annoyed glance at Brent. Rebecca looked less than happy and slammed her boot onto the ground. Rebecca's eyes turned away from Kimberly and began to move about the area. Shit... Richard did his best to look as uninteresting as possible and the other upperclassmen did the same. Of all the "rules", the most important was to NOT draw attention. It was a rule all the boys learned quickly. But the underclassman were, often, slow on that lesson.
Richard risked a glance back just in time to see Rebecca lock eyes on one of the new freshman. Fuck... the idiot was STILL staring at them and with a look of utter terror to boot! He might as well have been jumping into a den of wolves with a steak strapped to his neck. Rebecca's furious scowl turned into a blood-chilling smile...
"What about him?" Rebecca asked, pointing the freshman out. The freshman's face lost all color as Kimberly simply waved Rebecca away. Rebecca snapped back toward him and a smile that would have looked more in place on a serial killer spread over Rebecca. The freshman started to back away as Rebecca began to move after him. She moved just slow enough to let the terror sink in fully and blind panic sent the poor boy running. Richard hide his wince as Rebecca took off after him. She caught him in less than two strides and lifted him off the ground with ease. She then slammed him into the wall dividing the stalls and showers, causing the boy to scream in pain.
"You fucking, SHIT!" she yelled before smashing him into the wall again. This blow must have knocked the boy's air out as his screaming stopped and turned to gasps.
"Trying to run from me? Think I am so kind of monster?! Oh I am going to SHOW YOU A MONSTER!" Rebecca said before smashing him into the wall again. She let his limp body fall to the ground and dragged him back into the showers... all the better to wash the blood away... His fresh screams made Richard's blood boil, but he didn't dare try anything. There were still two Queens here and he would just join the freshman if he tried anything.
"Umm...Kimberly? Can...Can I have Brent? I haven't had him yet and...And I really need it," Susan, the last queen, asked as she started to squirm a bit. Susan's red braids began to swing as she continued to squirm and a few of the other's couldn't help but stare, Brent among them.
While all the queens were considered beautiful, Susan was thought to be the most by far. She had curves in all the right places and tended to wear clothing that showed them off. As she shifted, her huge breasts wobbled visibly in her low cut shirt and her tight pants stretched to contain her wide hips. She bite her lower lip in anticipation as her hands started to sink toward her waist.
Kimberly raised an eyebrow at Susan before turning away as if in thought. Susan waited a second or two but her breath began to quicken as the seconds ticked by. Her swaying increased and she began to glance back and forth between Brent and Kimberly.
"Kim...." Susan half whined half moaned before sinking onto her knees. She lifted Kimberly's skirt before plunging her head into Kimberly's underwear. Every guy in the locker room was now staring, including Richard he was sad to admit, as Susan began to lick Kimberly's covered pussy. Kimberly's eyes closed as she started to tighten up in response. Richard began to hope Kimberly would be unable to resist Susan and the two would focus on each other rather than them. But his hope was dashed as Kimberly pushed Susan away.
"Alright! Alright, you win. Just try to be gentle," Kimberly said as she let out a long sigh. Susan's face lit up as Brent's seemed to ping pong between fear and anticipation. She whirled on Brent and grabbed him up in her arms before he could decide which he felt more. Brent swore as he started to try and wiggle free, but Susan was just too big for him to resist. He pushed against her head, but Susan ignored him as she started to plant kiss after kiss over his body. Brent keep struggling for a few seconds, but his resistance began to fade as Susan's kisses moved lower and lower. Brent's resistance ended completely once Susan's mouth pulled his boxers down and her tongue began to slide over his penis. Susan shifted her weight and laid back as she began to suck on him like a baby on a bottle, causing Brent's resistance to end completely. For his part, Richard breathed a sigh of relieve for Brent. He was lucky she was giving HIM head and not the other way around. More than a few guys had been sent to the hospital that way...
Richard and the rest of the team's focus on Brent and Susan came to a sudden end as a gut-wrenching scream echoed from the shower. Richard turned just in time to see the poor freshman came skidding out of the shower, his right arm bent out of place and a number of heel-shaped bruises covering him. Rebecca stormed out after him, completely naked now. Her right hand was plunged into her crotch as her left shot out to grab the boy again. The boy began to beg for help, crying as he did, but only earned quick kick for his troubles.
"SHUT UP!" Rebecca yelled before grabbing his head to start to carrying him back. It was all Richard could do not to say something. Dammit, Rebecca was going to CRIPPLE that boy, maybe even kill him, if this keep up! Was Richard really going to just stand here and watch?! Was his plan really that important?!
Richard would never know what he would have chosen, as someone made the choice before him. A sophomore, Justin if he remembered right, rushed after Rebecca. He was still wearing his cleats and they clacked across the floor as he sprinted toward the amazon. She had just enough time to turn before Justin leap up. Shit, he was going to flying kick her! Justin rose into the air and rotated to bring his legs forward, before being slammed to the ground by a large blow to his chest. Richard felt his heart and spirit fall as Justin crumpled onto the ground by Kimberly. She had noticed him making a move and caught up to him before he could even lay a finger on Rebecca. Now he was gasping to try and scream in pain as Kimberly shifted to stand over him.
"This one is mine," Kimberly said, stonewalling the raising hate that was filling Rebecca. She looked less than happy, but turned away just the same. With her gone, Kimberly looked down at Justin.
"Congratulations, you just volunteered for my favorite game," Kimberly said with a vicious smile. Justin's attempts to catch his breath were forgotten in favor for struggling to crawl away as he realized what that game was. Kimberly simply giggled at his attempts to flee before shifted and squatting over his face.
"Make me orgasm and I'll let you go. Don't..." Kimberly didn't finish as she flopped down on top of Justin. Justin's arms and legs began to flail as he fought for air, but Kimberly ignored them. Instead, she shifted a bit as if to get comfortable before turning a glare toward her rear.
"I'm not feeling much of anything down there. You might want to get to work, good workers get air. Bad workers," Kimberly said before flicking Justin's crotch. If Justin let out a scream of pain from the blow, it was absorbed by Kimberly's mass.
With the three Queens all busy, a few of the upperclassmen began to grab their things and flee, hoping to slip out unnoticed. Richard hated running from this, hated leaving his three classmates at the mercy of these... "women", but he had no choice. He couldn't stop them even if he tried and he had too important a task to do later.
Ignoring the screams and pleas from the shower, the flailing and silent screams from under Kimberly, and the short curses escaping Brent as Susan began to pull him in tighter and tighter,, Richard gathered his things and left the locker room. He couldn't stop this horror, but he could stop future ones. And that was more important... Or at least that is what her told himself.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For the hundredth time, Courtney glanced at the clock on her phone as she tried to not look to her left. Despite seeming like an hour, only five minutes had actually gone by and the infuriating squeaks and moans continued relentlessly.
Tiffany, Courtney's amazon roommate, had brought home yet another boy and was busy putting him to work. The boy was attempting to please Tiffany by licking and petting her pussy. Hearing the gasps and moans from Tiffany, one would think the boy was succeeding, but Courtney knew better. All that fake moaning and shit was just an attempt to make Courtney look so Tiffany could get what really got her off.
A sudden loud gasp caused Courtney to, instinctively, look over. She regretted it immediately as she locked eyes with Tiffany. Tiffany's faked smile changed into a real one as she shifted just enough to let Courtney take in the full view of the tiny boy trying his damndest to please her huge body. Fucking bitch... that should be Courtney sitting there having a boy to toy with!
Courtney had thought Tiffany was different when she had first moved in with her. Unlike pretty much every amazon, she didn't constantly mock Courtney for her tiny form, or "accidently" bump into her, or make sure she was always around when they were hitting on a boy, or any number of other shit Courtney had put up with her whole life.. Instead, she had acted nice and understanding, even took up for Courtney a few times. But it had all been a ruse. All Tiffany really wanted was to know what got Courtney's goat and the second she learned that Courtney dreamed of being an amazon and having boy toys of her own, these "meetings" became a constant practice. It had all been so Tiffany could use Courtney to get her own fucked up jollies. Fucking cunt had used her... and Courtney HATED her for it.
Whirling away in fury, Courtney did her best to try and focus on something, anything else but that damn moaning and slapping. Leaving would have been the best way, but as bad as this was it was nothing compared to what the amazons outside would do. She'd be lucky if they just mocked her out there, but it was far more likely they would use her as a doll or their own personal servant.
Goddammit, it wasn't fair that someone as stupid and shallow as Tiffany and the others were given amazon sizes and Courtney not. It had NEVER been fair. Her own mother was an amazon and STILL she was born weak, tiny, and pathetic. And because of that she had never known a moment of peace. Never been able to go anywhere without being stared at like some kind of freak!
From the second the first of the girls start to grow to amazon sizes, Courtney had been a prime target for bullying. Not being an amazon was bad enough, but being only 5'3 made it so much worse. She wasn't just small, she was tiny and it made her an easy target. No matter where she went or what her parents did she was constantly barraged by mockery and ridicule. Fuck even boys tended to push her around! BOYS!!!
A sudden rumble from nearby shook Courtney out of her thoughts. Her phone alarm had, finally, gone off. Thank fuck... Grabbing it, Courtney leap out of her bed and made a beeline for the door, doing her best not to even glance at Tiffany.
"Oh, am I being too loud? Sorry about that, it's just hard to be quieter when you have such BIG needs," Tiffany mocked faking another loud moan. Courtney stopped just long enough to give Tiffany a death glare before storming out of the room. She charged through the hall, avoiding the downward glances of the amazons in the hall. She ignored their snickering and giggles as she practically sprinted out of the building. Soon... soon they were ALL going to regret every fucking with her. Soon, she was going to be the size she had deserved and then...then she was going to make them all pay... and they would be the ones she used to get HER jollies.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was ready... After so many failed trials, false leads, dead end research, and useless studies the serum was complete. Richard had come to Hale and made sure to become a chemical assistance just for this. Now... now he could bring this twisted, unfair world to an end. Now, he could bring the chance for equality back and stop the inevitable descent into oppression.
But as much as Richard wanted to believe everything would work, he had learned, often the hard way, that such thoughts were dangerous. He had thought his serum was ready more than once and the results of those failures had been... Honestly, he didn't want to think about them. He was just glad he hadn't tested them on people... But this time, this time he was. Dear God what was he thinking?
"She did volunteer... and she saw the risks too," Richard said to himself. It was little comfort considering what might happen to Courtney. She had been a godsend as an assistant, but her overeagerness was always worrying to him, just like it was now. And yet... and yet she HAD agreed and this test would have to come at some point. He had taken every precaution he cou-
The door opening tore Richard away from his thoughts. He turned and let out a relieved sigh to see Courtney moving toward him. Her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her brown eyes seemed to twinkle in excitement. Richard could understand why they would as it was no secret how awful the amazons treated her. The chance of, finally, being able to put that all to an end would excite anyone.
Despite being twenty-five, Courtney was so skinny and small that it wasn't uncommon for people to think her much younger. She wasn't unattractive by any means, but when compared to amazons... well to say it was an unfair match would be to put it mildly. Her own tiny height only added to her far younger appearance and made her an easy target for both amazon and boy bullies. It was, also, why Richard was somewhat willing to do this test. No one else in the school deserved, or needed, the size increase more than her.
"Is it ready?" Courtney asked in obvious anticipation. Richard switched the last few tests he had been running off and turned to face his assistant.
"Yes, everything is ready for the test. But before we begin," Courtney's eagerness fell a bit at those words, but Richard continued, "are you absolutely sure about this? I know you have seen the potential... results if things go badly, but are you really sure you are ready to risk your life for this?" Courtney's face shifted a bit as if unsure on what to feel. After a deep breath, it settled into a soft smile.
"Yes, I'm sure. The potential good this could do is more than enough to face the risks. Besides I... don't have much of a future either way," Courtney said, turning away from Richard as her smile faded. Richard wished he could say that was untrue...but he would be lying if he did. The amazons were taking over everything now and it wasn't going to be long before anyone not an amazon would be made a second-class citizen. And as small as Courtney was she would be lucky not to just disappear one day, never to be heard from again. It was already starting with the odd disappearances, lack of police responses...
Nodding in understanding, Richard moved back to his work table and picked up various medical devices to monitor Courtney. He placed the devices onto her and made sure they were all working. Hopefully, they would give Richard enough of an early warning of something going wrong for Richard to keep Courtney from being killed. Or, at the bare minimum, they would give Richard good data on the results of this test... as horribly morbid and selfish as that was. But he knew Courtney would not want her death to be in vain and Richard would make sure it was not.
With his monitoring equipment set up, Richard took out his newest serum.
"One last warning, I haven't done anything with the taste so it might be... well horrid," Richard admitted. He had been so busy just getting it to work he never even thought of how bad it would be going down. Courtney either didn't care or didn't hear as she snatched the vial away. She gave Richard enough time to get back to his machines before she started to drink.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Finally... FINALLY! The tool to get her rightful size and her rightful power was in her hand. She had spent so many months sucking up to that dumbass Richard: agreeing with his naive BS, acting all nice and helpful, fighting back so much vomit that her mouth seemed to be forever coated in it, and steering him toward getting the serum to work on women first. All of it, finally, was going to pay off.
Struggling to keep a twisted smile off her face, Courtney brought the vial to her mouth. She took her first chug and had to fight not to spit it up. Dear God, it was AWFUL!!! Courtney had taken some nasty medicine, but this was beyond anything she had ever drank. But drink it she did. It could have been a hundred times worse and she STILL would have chugged it down. The taste would pass, but the size, respect, strength, and POWER, THAT was worth any horrid aftertaste.
With an inward yell, Courtney got the last of the serum down and gasped for breath. The taste was still coating her mouth and she could feel herself wanting to retch, but she fought the urge down. She was NOT going to lose this chance now.
"Fuck... that was bad," Courtney said, not even trying to keep her good girl facade up. Thankfully, Richard didn't seem surprised or confused by her cursing.
"I did warn you... Assuming this works, I'll do what I can about the taste," Richard said giving Courtney a sympathetic look. Ugh, Courtney wanted to cuss the prick out, but pushed the urge down. She would make him pay AFTER she made sure this serum worked.
Courtney looked herself over and...didn't see or feel anything. She was the same tiny little shrimp and didn't feel herself stretching or expanding or however growing was supposed to feel. Dammit, she so wanted to demand what the fuck was wrong, but knew she still needed to play her part for now. Maybe this was another failure...
"Is...Is something supposed to happen?" Courtney asking, keeping her anger out of her voice. Richard glanced up from his monitors and shook his head.
"Not right now. Since you took the serum orally it is going to take a few minutes for it to spread through your bloodstream. Injecting it would have caused the change to be near instantaneous, but would have made any complications almost assuredly fatal," Richard answered as he went back to looking over his machine. Courtney rolled her eyes and let out a low snarl. Damn fucker and his lust for "safety". She had seen what had happened to the failed subjects and already knew damn well she was fucked if this went bad. But it was worth that risk and, worse came to worst, she would rather be dead than stuck at thi-
Courtney's thoughts slammed to a halt as a sudden wave of pain washed through her. Courtney doubled over as the pain began to grow in intensity, driving her thoughts away and causing her eyes to water. Courtney had to fight to keep breathing as the pain grew to levels she didn't even know existed. Her pain filled mind was dimly aware of Richard rushing toward her, but even that part was blocked out as the pain grew. And soon she was aware of nothing but pure agony.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"COURTNEY!" Richard yelled as he rushed to her side. No, no, no, NO, her heart rate was racing to fatal levels while her blood pressure was nearing the limits of her arteries! He had to act fast or Courtney's insides were, literally, going to explode!
Snatching up a depressant he had made ready, Richard keep Courtney's writhing body still long enough to administer the drug. He tried to keep Courtney from hurting herself with her trashing and prayed he had been fast enough. Dammit, he KNEW this had been a mistake!
Looking back at the monitors, Richard let out a relieved sigh as Courtney's blood pressure began to normalize and her heart rate slowed to fast, but not fatally so. Even better, Courtney began to gasp for air and stop her violent shaking. That had been too close... another second and he would have lost her, maybe even less.
With the threat of death averted, for now, Richard headed back to his worktable to get the abort drug. Courtney was unlikely to be happy with the effects of this drug, but it would make sure his failed serum didn't kill her and that was far more important. Turning back to Courtney, Richard was a bit surprised to see her beginning to stir. He moved over and pushed her back to keep her still.
"Don't move, Courtney, you are still in danger. Stay still while I give you the abort drug," Richard said in as calming a voice as he could manage. Courtney still seemed to be a bit out of it and her eyes blinked and roamed about, unable to focus. But even so, she still managed to shake her head and mouth out a no.
Richard respected her courage and willingness to sacrifice for the greater cause, but he would never forgive himself if he let her die when he could have saved her. Besides, he had gotten good data from this already and that might be enough for him to learn what had gone wrong. Courtney had done, and risked, more than enough.
Holding Courtney down to keep her weak flailing from interfering, Richard leaned down and moved the syringe tow- Suddenly, the needle began to press into Courtney's arm. Richard pulled the syringe back and narrowed his eyes. Wait... he hadn't been that close a second before. How ha-... could it be?
Setting the syringe down for a second, Richard turned one of his monitors around and looked over the readout. It was a machine he had designed and built himself to monitor people's mass. Normally, it read 0% showing the mass had not changed. But there wasn't a 0 by Courtney's readouts. It was a 4...
Whirling back, Richard grabbed Courtney's hand and held it tightly. Sure enough, he could feel his hands being pushed apart as Courtney's small hand began to demand more space. She was growing... It had worked... IT HAD WORKED!
"Courtney, how do you feel? Does it still hurt?" Richard asked, going completely into data mode. He needed to make notes, figure out the rate of growth, see what effects the depressant had, write down the time between administration and effect, an-
A moan of equal part pain and pleasure was Courtney's answer and it sent Richard's thoughts screeching to a halt. Courtney's eyes began to regain their focus and she pushed herself up...and up...and up. Normally, Courtney would have been about a foot lower to the ground than Richard when they were sitting. But now... now Courtney was only an inch lower...and that inch vanished as another slight moan escaped her.
"Yes... fuck yes!" Courtney said between gasps. Richard could only watch in awed silence as the tiny, scrawny Courtney began to expand outward. Shifting her weight to her feet, Courtney tried to stand, but another short spurt sent her tumbled forward. Richard stared in wonder as Courtney's, now fully on display, rear began to expand outward. A soft giggle came from her direction and Richard's amazement only increased as the growing rear began to sway in front of him. His stupor only ended when a loud ripping sound began to come from the pants that were now failing in containing the engorging ass.
"Dat... DATA! Shit, I need to be recording this," Richard said more to himself as he rushed back to his monitors. So much data he needed to be gathering and he was wasting time marveling at Courtney's new, still growing, magnificent rear. Having to fight practically every urge in his body, Richard did his best to focus on taking notes and making sure he got every bit of information he could.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The spurts hurt. Each one forced her muscles to swell, her bones to lengthen, and her flesh to spread and those changes brought pain. But it hurt SO. DAMN. GOOD!!! Seeing that Richard had snapped out of his ass-caused stupor, Courtney pushed herself back into a sitting position. She smiled in utter glee as more ripping sounds came from her pants and was thrilled to watch her shirt begin to lose the same battle as well. Fuck, the serum wasn't just making her bigger, it was making her curvier too!
Her breasts had been an A-cup of nothing before, but now they were pushing out, ready to challenge the world along with the rest of her. She groaned as she ran her hands over her lengthening legs, enjoying the feeling of her thigh muscles feeding off the serum. She giggled as she watched her hand cover more and more of the tiled floor, wondering how long till she could cover a whole tile with it. And she marveled as the tables tops began to move closer and closer, and then further and further as she started to grow past them, WHILE SITTING DOWN!!! Even better, the last shreds of her clothing, the bindings of her old, weak life, ripped away and she had to bite her lip as ecstasy seemed to wash over her.
Having had enough of just watching herself, Courtney got her now huge legs under herself and pushed up. She couldn't help but gasp as she watched everything fall away and keep falling away as her body continued its ascent. She turned back and had to laugh as she saw Richard. He was shorter than her belly button and still getting smaller! No... no he wasn't getting smaller, SHE was getting BIGGER!!! And her power was growing right along with her. But she wanted to do more than just to watch Richard shrink away. Oh she wanted to do SOOO much more...
Richard seemed oblivious to Courtney at first, but once she leaned down to put her breasts right behind the monitors, he snapped to her in record time. His jaw went slack as he stared at her and Courtney felt a thrill run through her. Yes... stare at me and see just how powerless you really are! How much BETTER I am than you! But just looking at him wasn't good enough. No no no, she needed MORE. Reaching forward, Courtney grabbed Richard and lifted him up and out of his little spot.
Richard tried to wiggle free at first, but stopped as Courtney giggled at him. Even with her new found height and strength, he was still rather heavy, but even that was shrinking away. Each passing second saw his weight melt away and Courtney marveled as her hands covered more and more of him. It was so insanely awesome... a man who had been nearly two feet taller than her moments before, was now light enough for her to carry like a baby. And just like her legs, her arms were feeding off the serum, gaining definition they had never had before.
Yet all great things had to end and Courtney let out one last moan as the feeling of growing faded away. Damn... she had wanted to get even bigger, but she supposed this siz-...actually, how big HAD she grown? She had been so enraptured by her growth and toying with Richard she hadn't even bothered to find out.
Looking around, Courtney couldn't see much of anything to compare herself too. This lab had been made for boys and amazons, so the roof was twenty or so feet up. She hadn't hit that, so she was still under twenty feet. The amazon tables were looking a bit small, but she had no idea how big they were supposed to be. Oh right, Richard had been looking at her vitals and such maybe he knew. Good thing she hadn't gone straight to amusing herself with him.
"So how big am I?" Courtney asked the still somewhat stunned Richard. He didn't answer at all and, instead, just stared at her. She would have been annoyed at him not answering, but seeing the mix of fear and awe on his face made up for it. THAT was the kind of reaction she deserved! But she still wanted an answer.
"Richard... helloooo?" Courtney asked again, this time giving him a light squeeze. Richard grunted a bit at the squeeze and his eyes blinked a few times.
"Wh- what? Oh...size...right...umm..." Richard stammered out as he tried to get some semblance of control over himself.  He keep staring at her for a moment before glancing away with a worried gulp. Courtney raised an eyebrow and wondered just what was bothering him, and if she was going to crush him right here and now for it.
"You....you were....six...sixteen feet the last time I... uh...I looked," Richard said. Courtney stared at Richard for a second, her mind slowly coming to terms with this news. Sixteen...feet. She was...she was six- no even taller than that. She had grown more after picking him up so... She...she wasn't amazon sized... she was even BIGGER!!! HehehehehHAHAHAHA!
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Courtney laughed in triumph, excitement, and joy. Sixteen feet tall! She could out size and out power ANY other person on the planet now! No one even came CLOSE to her! Just like it had MEANT to be! Yes, yes, YES!!!
"Please, calm down Courtney! I know this is shocking, but I can fix this! If I ge-" was all Courtney let Richard get out before she pulled him into a lust-filled kiss. It was sooo much better than every kiss before. All the others she had been at the mercy of the man, but now... now he was at HER mercy. If she wanted, she could bite Richard's face off or crush him with her bare hands. But not yet. He had succeeded FAR beyond her expectations. She had figured she would be amazon sized, not super amazon-sized! And that deserved a reward. Besides, she wanted to test this body out!
Courtney chuckled as she released Richard from her kiss. A big grin seemed to be plastered on his face and he looked beyond out of it. She giggled as he leaned down and began to kiss her fingers and wondered if she really wanted to get rid of him. He HAD proven to be useful and he was so loving, apparently. Hmmm... maybe just a broken bone or two to get the poin- Broken bone... Rebecca.....
Almost instantly, Courtney's good mood vanished. That was right, Richard and her had planned to make those royal cunts pay for their crimes after she got big. Courtney wouldn't have given two shits about them a few weeks ago. But that was before Rebecca had decided to show off her strength by snapping Courtney's arm with one hand. That little slip up was going to see her and her two friends dead before this day ended.
"Oh...oh dear. Richard I... I'm so sorry, this was just so... unexpected and the rush... Here, let me...let me put you down," Courtney said, going back to her hated good girl act. Richard seemed disappointed at first, but it soon changed to embarrassment and relieve once his feet hit the ground.
"No, no, it's fine, really. I...I guess I need to make sure the serum doesn't have...sexual side effects after this," Richard said trying not to stare at Courtney's naked form. Courtney would have enjoyed letting him stare, but covered up like her good girl self would do. Not that it did much good, there was soooo much more of her now, hehehe. And from the way Richard was stealing glances, he was all too aware of that too.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Courtney's attempt at modesty was a bit of a wasted effort. His serum had worked miracles on the originally tiny girl, turning her into an amazon of unheard of size and unheard of...assists. A single arm did practically nothing to cover her new body and it was all Richard could do not to stare in wonder. Fuck he could still feel her massive lips moving over his own and her firm, but still light grip on h- NO no, he was blue balling bad enough as it was and they had more important things to do. He needed to focus on the next step.
"Right, seeing that the serum was a... success, we can move on to the next stage. Making the Queens pay," Richard said, finding it a bit easier to keep his eyes off Courtney now. The still fresh horrors those monsters had visited on the soccer team demanded justice and that justice keep him focused.
"I am more than happy to help with that. What is the plan?" Courtney asked as she shifted a bit to find a more comfortable spot, knocking over a, thankfully empty, table in the process. Richard had to fight not to look at her and keep on track with his thoughts.
"It's... ummm, it's rather simple," Richard started shaking his head to clear his thoughts, "The Queens have their own private meeting in the lab next door every Wednesday. All the teachers, staff, etc... know this so they will be doing their best not to be here or pay attention to what is happening. Even better, Kimberly likes to arrive a few minutes early giving us a window to remove her before the other two arrive.
"I..." Richard paused again as he glanced back at Courtney's massive form, "wasn't sure how effective the serum would be so I planned on needing surprise to win. That might not be the case considering... well." Courtney got a mischievous smile at his unspoken awe and gave a quick flex of her arm. A small, at least in comparison to the rest of her, bicep appeared on her arm and Courtney's smile seemed to spread. Ignoring the panic at the initial application, Richard serum had been more than a success. But he needed to stay on topic and not let his lower needs takeover.
"Bu-But I still think we should use it to our advantage. If nothing else, it will help get the fear and intimidation we are going for across. Once we have all three locked down, we can move on to giving them a taste of their own medicine and, hopefully, get them to see the error of their ways," Richard finished, having to look away as Courtney shifted again and started to lean forward.
"Umm... yes... so once Kimberly starts to go by, I'll slip out and lure her into here. Then you can tie her up with those cables till the other two arrive. Understand?" Richard pressed on, motioning toward the large metal cables he had borrowed for this plan. Courtney looked at them before nodding.
"Got it. You lure her in, I tie her up and then take care of the other two. And then," Courtney paused and got an odd mixed up face, "it's time to teach them the error of their ways." Courtney's faced settled into a slight smile and Richard raised an eyebrow at her. What was that about? Richard was about to ask, but the sounds of footsteps stopped him. Damn, Kimberly was earlier than he had planned.
"Shit, that must be her. Get ready," Richard said as he moved to the door. Courtney nodded and shifted closer to the door as well while managing not to knock anything over. Despite having her huge naked form behind him, Richard was able to stay focused. This was the culmination of months of planning and years of work, his natural urges were NOT going to interfere. The Queens were, finally, going to be brought low and taught just how horrible their actions were.
Waiting till the footsteps got within a few feet of the door, Richard pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway. His plan had been simple, walk out the door and plow right into Kimberly's leg. Being the egomaniac she was, Kimberly would never let what could have been just an accident go. No she would want to make sure Richard never did it again, doubly so when he took off running. And she would run right into the waiting arms of Courtney. But no plan survives contact with the enemy...or in this case Kimberly.
Richard stepped out into the hallway and charged forward. But his timing had been off and he didn't run into a thing. Swearing, Richard turned to head down the hall, but never got a single step in. His timing had been off, but very close. So close that Kimberly didn't have time to react to his sudden appearance. Richard turned and was, immediately, greeted with Kimberly's panties as they plowed right into his face.
Taken completely off-guard, Richard froze on the spot. His face was buried a few inches into Kimberly's pussy and his mind had gone completely blank. It wasn't until Kimberly let out an annoyed growl that Richard's brain restarted. Shit, shit, SHIT! He tried to pull away and run, but he was too slow. Kimberly's hands clamped down onto Richard's shoulders, both painfully tight, and Richard was only allowed to move back just enough to see Kimberly's face.
Kimberly was glaring down with a look of pure hate when Richard came into view. He gulped in panic as her eyes locked with his. However, Kimberly's look shifted as recognition flashed across her face. Hate gave way to surprise which then gave way to a slight smirk and Richard was unsure whether that was good or very, very bad.
"Richard... hehe. How nice of you to present yourself after we missed you in the locker room. I, usually, don't take such forward actions well...bbuuttt," Kimberly paused as she licked her lips ever so slightly, "maybe I'll make an exception for you." Before Richard could decide whether to be afraid or turned on, he was thrust right back into Kimberly's pussy. This time, there was a bit more moisture inside and a soft laugh and moan escaped Kimberly.
"Since you seemed so kin on getting in, I'll let you have the honor of satisfying me. Do it quick enough and I'll even let you walk without having to help the other queens," Kimberly mocked with a soft chuckle. Richard swore as he realized the plan was falling apart. He couldn't lure Kimberly back into the lab if she was keeping him pinned in her pussy. And if he DIDN'T satisfy her before Susan and, more importantly, Rebecca showed up...
Suddenly, Courtney's pussy pulled away from Richard and left him breathing open air. A slight yell of surprise came from Kimberly and Richard had just enough time to be confused before Kimberly's much larger frame plowed into him. They both flopped to the ground and Richard found himself laying on Kimberly's stomach. He pushed himself up and felt them being dragged back into the lab. He glanced behind himself and felt a wave of relief hit as he saw Courtney pulling them closer. Kimberly let out a gasp of shock as she noticed Courtney too and the slight second her mind took to register what was happening was all the time Courtney needed. She moved forward and pinned Kimberly's arms to the ground.
"Hello Kimberly," Courtney said with a wide smile.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
HAHAHA, it was so EASY! Courtney could hardly believe how easy it was to hold down the once mighty Kimberly. She was, or rather had been, the biggest amazon at the college and Courtney wasn't even struggled to keep her pinned. Kimberly tried to squirm, writhe, and wiggle her way out, but it was all in vain. Courtney was far too big and strong for the tiny little weakling to break free. HeheheHAHAHA! The fact KIMBERLY was a tiny weakling sent chills down Courtney.
"Co...COURTNEY?! How- when..." Kimberly stammered out between attempts to escape. Her eyes were wide in horror and surprise as she stared up at Courtney. That's right, bitch, there is a new alpha at this school! Kimberly's eyes moved away from Courtney and to the slowly recovering Richard. Realization followed by anger flashed across her face as the wimp caught on to what had happened.
"I always knew you were smarter than you let on, Richard. Should have made you my personal servant a long time ago. So, what now? Going to make me pay for my crimes or something?" Kimberly asked, getting an annoyingly calm voice. Courtney was going to enjoy squeezing and breaking that calmness away. See if she could act so high and mighty when her legs had been ripped out of their sockets.
"That's right. You have terrorized the small people of this college and used your family's money to shield yourself for too long. It is time for you to feel what it is like to be helpless and controlled by another," Richard said, spouting off his usual idealist crap. Ugh... did he honestly think this shit would reform the Queens? That, suddenly, they would have a crisis of conscious and stop torturing people? Pfft, yeah right. More than likely, all he would do is sign his own death warrant by doing this. No all this was really about was making these cunts suffer as badly as possible before Courtney got bored with them. And if he didn't like it... well he could join them.
Kimberly seemed to be of the same opinion and rolled her eyes at Richard. Despite this he keep prattling on about her crimes and other shit. Fucking hell... Courtney debated on crushing his stupid face between her and Kimberly's breasts, but decided against it as she realized Kimberly would enjoy that. She didn't want her getting any pleasure from this, hence why she stopped that cunni- Ohhhhh now there was an idea.
"Richard, is right, it is time for you to learn how horrid what you are doing is. And why don't we start with something that happened a second ago. She tried to force you to give her head, maybe she should return the favor," Courtney suggested, stopping Richard mid rant. Richard seemed a bit hesitant to do that, but Kimberly looked absolutely disgusted. Courtney nodded to her and Richard managed to spot her disgust before Kimberly could hide it. Heheh, time to suck the piper "majesty".
"It does seem only fair," Richard said before zipping down his pants. Kimberly turned away in disgust and anger, but Courtney tightened her grip and pressed her knee down onto one of her legs. The unspoken threat was understood and Kimberly gave her a look of hate and fury before turning to face Richard. With a bit of hesitation, Kimberly took Richard's dick into her mouth and began to get to work.
The look of anger, disgust, and helplessness was priceless and Courtney wished she had a camera to record it. Oh this was the perfect appetizer for the main course and she was going to enjoy making this a permanent look of Kimberly and the others. Richard looked to be enjoying it too as he started to grunt and shift with Kimberly. And as his reactions increased, Kimberly's disgust and discomfort decreased. Wait... was she starting to ENJOY this?! Oh HELL no!
"Mmm, you two... are going to pay...for this.  You tiny....and big... nobodies," Kimberly said between sucks as she started to really get into her sucking. Oh great... just great. She was supposed to hate this, not find a new kink. Courtney groaned inward as she tried to think of something else to do. Maybe it was time to ge-
"Fuck, COURTNEY LOOK OUT!" Richard suddenly yelled as he spun around, wide eyed and alarmed. Courtney had enough time to look perplexed before a set of arms latched to each of her own arms. Now Courtney knew exactly what had scared Richard. Susan and Rebecca were here.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dammit, he had been too slow. Kimberly's sucking had distracted him just long enough for him not to get the hidden message till it was too late. Now Susan and Rebecca had grabbed Courtney from behind and were pulling her off Kimberly.
"Fuck, let go!" Courtney yelled as she tried to pull away. One on one, Courtney would have, easily, overpowered either one. But this wasn't one on one, it was two on one and Courtney was losing.
"Like hell you freak!" Rebecca yelled back as she yanked Courtney off Kimberly. Courtney managed to keep from falling down, but that was about all she was managing. The two queens had an arm each and Courtney couldn't get in a position to bring her full strength to bear on either. They pulled her further back before a sudden rush forward by Susan slammed the bigger girl into the wall. Courtney tried to push herself back, but the two Queens were just too much even for her. Courtney was now the one pinned and Richard...
Richard fought back the urge to gulp as he turned back to Kimberly. She had shifted into a slight inclined position and had her head tilted to the side. Her tongue was still licking his penis every so often, like some kind of idle habit, but while it was gentle and caressing, the stare she was giving him was anything but.
"Richard, Richard, Richard... what am I going to do with you?" Kimberly asked, stopping her licking for a second. She gave him a cold smile before giving him another few sucks. Despite his fear and worry, Richard couldn't help but have to fight to suppress a moan of his own. Damn she was good at this.
"Here I was thinking you were one of the few to understand their place in the world. So very disappointing," Kimberly said, drawing this out for her own amusement. Richard knew how this was going to end, and it wasn't going to be with him leaving this room. And despite the grunts and cursing Courtney was spewing, it didn't look like she was going to leave either...
"But... maybe you can make up for it. I'm not unreasonable and can be..."she paused as she moved closer to Richard's penis. She blew a hot breath onto it before slowly licking the entire length of it. Fuck...
"Rewarding. Or," she paused again before bringing her teeth down onto Richard's junk. It wasn't hard enough to hurt or do...damage, but it was more than enough to get the point across.
"With that in mind, how did Courtney get so big?" Kimberly asked, sending a wave of fear through Richard. No, no, he couldn't let her know that! He wasn't sure what a second dose would do, but the possibility of it making the Queens even bigger... He couldn't let that hap- Ohhhh shit...
Richard found his thoughts turn to jelly as Kimberly went back to her assault on his penis. Unlike before, she was both sucking and licking as she giggled at his reaction. He couldn't tell he- ohhh, if sh-sooo good. He had to...had to... getting close... As if sensing his nearing climax, Kimberly's efforts redoubled and Richard instinctive latched onto her. She giggled even more before giving one last big lick that, finally, sent him over the edge. Richard climaxed right into Kimberly's mouth and she sucked down his seed with a quick gulp.
Mentally and physically exhausted by the sexual attack, Richard flopped down onto Kimberly. She shifted around to let him use her breasts as pillows before, finally, relenting in her licking and sucking.
"So, do you want more of that or am I going to have to let Rebecca get the information," Kimberly asked with a clear edge in her voice. Richard tried to... so hard...tired and... All Richard could manage was a numb nod along with a gesture toward his work area. Kimberly got a triumphant smile and began to sit up, keeping a good grip on Richard as she did.
"NO! Richard do-" was all Courtney got out before a body blow from Rebecca silenced her.
"Wait your turn. We'll deal with you in a second," Rebecca said with a cruel laugh. Richard didn't react to either as Kimberly carried him to his work station. She knelt down so she could see it better and Richard blinked his eyes to try and focus. Yes...there it was. Richard reached forward for his target and took hold of the extra serum he had made. He turned back to Kimberly as Courtney began to fight all the harder to escape. Kimberly smiled at the offered vial as Rebecca and Susan made sure Courtney stayed put. None of them noticed Richard grab a syringe with his other hand.
The second Kimberly reached out for the vial, Richard struck. He slammed the syringe into Kimberly's arm and hammered the plunger down. Kimberly let out a howl of pain before smashing her fist into Richard. The blow sent him flying back, bouncing over a table and crumpling to the floor a good ten feet away. But as conscious slipped away, Richard was happy to let it go. The syringe was empty and the broken shards of the vial lay nearby, his serum slowly draining away from them.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Courtney swore as she saw Richard go flying from the blow. At least he had keep Kimberly from getting the serum and, maybe injected her with something lethal. Though knowing Richard it undoubtedly wasn't, fucking pansy. Whatever it was, though, it was causing some extreme pain for Kimberly as she continued to gasp and yell in pain.
"Dammit...what the hell...did he give...?" Kimberly stammered out as she gripped her arms to herself. Seeing her doubled over in pain was, almost, worth being pinned by the other two. The fact she was looking smaller than before was some nice icing... wait... She wasn't just looking smaller... Ohhhh Richard you sly, son of a bitch!
Courtney let a wide smile spread over her face as she watched Kimberly begin to shrink. Both Susan and Rebecca glanced back after seeing her smile and Courtney heard Susan gasp. Kimberly was still in too much pain to realize what was happening, but as she moved to steady herself by a table, a boy-sized table, realization and horror began to flood her face. Her skirt slipped off her body and her shirt began to cover more and more of her.
"Wha-... No..no NO! You fu- AHH!!" Kimberly started to say, but stopped as she collapsed onto all fours. Her body began to shake and creak as her shrinking picked up in pace. Already she was barely eight feet and her shrinking only speed up. Within less than a second she had shrank so much that her shirt buried her under itself. And still,  the small bump that was her continued to shrink and shrink. Finally, after a muffled cry of pain, the small lump moved forward and a tiny, barely six foot Kimberly crawled her way out of her old clothing, looking to have finally stopped.
"Ki-Kimberly..." Susan said in shock as she and Rebecca stared at their now tiny friend. Courtney wanted to laugh in glee at the pathetic sight, but a sudden realization stopped her. Susan's shock had caused her grip to slacken... With a vicious smile, Courtney threw all her power and weight into breaking free.
"Fuck, SUSAN!" Rebecca yelled as she realized what Courtney was trying to do. Her warning was too late, though, as Courtney managed to smash her elbow into the side of Susan's head. Susan, caught completely off-guard by the blow, stumbled back and lost her grip on Courtney. Her stumble sent her tumbling over a table and nearly landing right on top of Kimberly. With Susan out of the fight, Courtney turned her full attention to Rebecca.
Rebecca tried to keep Courtney pinned, but even her strength was no match for Courtney's new body. Courtney yanked her arm forward and cause Rebecca to slam into the wall. The blow left Rebecca dazed long enough for Courtney to spin around to face her. Her free hand grabbed hold of Rebecca's throat and she began to gasp as Courtney clamped down. Courtney gave her a smile of triumph and lust as she, easily, lifted her off the ground.
"Remember how you broke my arm?" Courtney asked as Rebecca trashed and clawed at Courtney to try and free herself. Courtney ignored the pain as she grabbed Rebecca's arm. She gave Rebecca a smile before she twisted with all her might. With a sickening, yet ohhhh so sweet, crack, Rebecca's eyes shot wide as her arm was bent back in a way it was never supposed to. Rebecca tried to scream in pain, but Courtney's vice grip on her neck made it nothing but gasps. But Courtney enjoyed those gasps just as much as a real scream.
No satisfied with just one arm, Courtney grabbed Rebecca's other arm and snapped it with just as much ease. Rebecca's rasps turned to pleas and sobs as she tried to beg Courtney to stop. But Courtney was, still, nowhere near satisfied. She grabbed Rebecca's head and gave her one last, twisted smile. Rebecca's eyes shot wide as she started to cry. Courtney twisted her neck and, with a sickening crack, it snapped like a toothpick. Rebecca's trashing ended in an instant and her face had just enough time to get a look of terror and shock before all life drained away.
Courtney stared at the dead body in her hands for a second. She...she had killed her... A simple twist of the wrist and... Courtney's face twisted with such delight, such wonder, such POWER that she probably would not have recognized even herself. She let out a roaring laugh that seemed to shake the windows as she whirled around to face Susan and Kimberly, Rebecca's limp corpse still in her hand.
Susan had managed to recover from her fall, but her composure was annihilated as she saw Rebecca's dead body. The color drained away from her face and she let out a scream of terror at the sight. Kimberly had much the same reaction, but managed to keep from screaming. Instead, she began to back away and looking around for something. She could look all she wanted, there was NOTHING either could do to stop Courtney now. There was nothing ANYONE could do!
"And then there were two. You know, I didn't give a shit about helping Richard with his revenge on you three idiots. No, I just wanted this power so I could, finally, get the respect and awe I DESERVE!" Courtney said as she began to advance on the two remaining queens. She let Rebecca's body flop to the ground, but made sure to step on her head as she passed, enjoying the slight crunch that came from it. Susan began to crawl away, whimpering a bit in terror as Kimberly began to glance at Richard's workstation.
"But you just couldn't help FUCKING with the wrong bitch. And now..." Courtney paused as she stopped her advance. She glared down at Susan who only whimpered and continued to back away, but cast a quick glance at Kimberly. Susan could wait, Kimberly was next.
"Now you are going to die and no one will shed a fucking tear for it," Courtney said before lunging forward. Susan balled up and let out a scream, but Courtney ignored her and headed for Kimberly. Realizing she was the target, Kimberly took off for the work bench and tried to grab something on it. Courtney, however, was faster and brought her hand crashing down onto the small woman. Kimberly collapsed like a car had been dropped on her and the cracks and crunch from her body sent chills of excitement through Courtney. She lifted her hand back up and smiled at the utterly ruined form of Kimberly. One of her legs was bent way out of place and blood was slowly seeping out of her head. She wasn't dead, but she was beyond unconscious. And the two syringes she had been going for were still undamaged.
Susan was still whimpering away as Courtney turned back to her. Her whining was becoming annoying, but so was Courtney's lack of satisfaction. Having seen just how powerful she now was, Courtney wanted to please her lust right away, but letting Susan do it would just turn the little freak on. Unless...
A smile spread over Courtney's face as she grabbed one of the syringes. She started to move away, but stopped as she glanced at the other. With a twisted smile, she grabbed the other as well. Susan continued to whimper and beg as Courtney moved to loom over her. Courtney gave her a kick and she cried out in pain.
"Hold still," Courtney ordered as she pinned the last queen down and moved the syringes closer. Susan did as she was told till she noticed the syringes. Her eyes shot wide and she began to beg and plead, but Courtney ignored her as she slammed them in and emptied their contents into her. Susan's pleads turned to cries as her body began to convulse like mad. Courtney held her down to make sure she didn't break herself before Courtney got the chance to as the serums took effect. Kimberly had shrank quickly with just one, Susan practically vanished.
Within less than a second, Susan's form disappeared into her clothing and Courtney had to back away to avoid crushing her. Susan's screams faded away and nothing was left of her save her clothing. In fact, there wasn't even a lump like there had been with Kimberly. Shit...maybe Courtney had gone a bit overboard...
Courtney reached forward and patted Susan's clothing, making sure to be gentle. She felt nothing save cloth, though and a sudden bit of fear began to run through Courtney. Not for Susan, of course, but for herself. Damn, she had shrunk Susan out of existence! Which meant Courtney could be too...
That horrifying thought was dispelled, however, as a doll seemed to crawl out of the neck of Susan's shirt. Courtney bent down toward it and she gasped as realized it WAS Susan. Susan's now insanely tiny form turned toward the gasp and she let out of terrified, tiny scream. Courtney stared in wonder at the now doll-sized woman and a wave of lust washed through her.
"Well hello there my new sex doll," Courtney said before snatching up the doll that had been Susan. Courtney could feel the tiny thing trying to fight her hand, but she would have been better off trying to stop a tidal wave. Courtney pulled her up toward her face and giggled at the look of utter horror plastered onto her face. Courtney could feel herself getting wetter as she tightened her grip on Susan. The tiny doll began to cry and scream in pain, but could do nothing else. Courtney controlled EVERYTHING about her and it was turning her beyond on.
"Can't wait any longer... Alright, my new dildo, time to do your job," Courtney said as she moved her newly promoted dildo toward her crotch. She ignored the little squeaks coming from it and shoved the toy into its home. She moaned in enjoyment as she pulled it out. Heheh, one of the queens of the school... now nothing more than her dildo! THIS was how it was supposed to be!
Feeding off her control and power, Courtney plunged Susan into her pussy again and again and again. She ignored whatever noises her dildo made, ignored the fact blood was beginning to leak out of her, and ignored fact her dildo seemed to be losing pieces. All that mattered was she was getting close and her dildo hadn't finished till SHE had.
Finally, with a gasp of pleasure, Courtney hit her climax and a small pool of her juices began to form beneath her. Mixed in with it, was blood and body parts. Courtney pulled her hand out and found most of Susan gone. Only the lower half of her was still there and even that was looking broken and battered. Oh well, she wasn't that good of a dildo anyway.
Feeling a bit hungry after her climax, Courtney scooped up the few bits of Susan left and plopped them into her mouth. She had done a shit job as a dildo, so she could become shit. With two of the Queens dealt with, Courtney only had one left. Pity, she was enjoying herself ever so much, hehe.
Walking over to the crumpled form of Kimberly, Courtney tapped her lips as she thought of what to do. She was satisfied sexually... had an OK meal... she could do some more bone breaking, but she wasn't sure if Kimberly would even feel it being unconscious. Worse, she had no idea when, or if, she would ever wake up. Pity she couldn't... just...keep...
Courtney turned back to work bench and smiled as she saw one last syringe waiting to be used.
----------------------------------------------------------

Richard groaned as darkness began to give way to pain. The sweet oblivion of nothing was looking a good bit more appealing, but Richard pushed it away as he struggled to regain consciousness. He let another gasp of pain escape his lips as he tried to force his eyes open. His eye fluttered between open and closed while his pain began to move from all around to a spot in particular. The right side of his face was screaming in agony and... and his right eye wasn't opening. What had happened?
As Richard tried to piece things together, he noticed a figure looming over him. He blinked a few times to clear his vision and the figure focused into Courtney. She was squatting down beside him and had a slight smile on her face. What was sh- HOLY SHIT SHE WAS NAKED! Richard's eye widened in shock and his surprise only increased when he saw how... amazing Courtney looked. It was like sh- wait... The Queens!
Finally, Richard's mind had gotten his thoughts back in order. His serum working, their ambush, the other queens, him getting punched... Richard tried to sit up, but Courtney's large hand pushed him back down.
"Don't move," Courtney said with an odd tone in her voice. Richard was a bit confused why she wouldn't want him to move until another spike of pain hit. Ugh...right he had taken a nasty blow and should take it easy.
"Right, sorry. The Queens?" Richard asked as he laid back down. Courtney's smile spread a bit as she gave him a rather intense stare.
"Dead," she said with that same odd smile.
"DEAD?!" Richard yelled, instinctively trying to sit up. Courtney, however, keep him held down. He stared up at her in shock and hoped to see her smile spread a bit or the beginnings of a laugh. But Courtney did neither as she held Richard's gaze. Dear God... she had killed them...
"Courtney...why? We were supposed to pay them back, not kill them!" Richard said as his mind began to race. The Queens had been horrible people, but killing them?! It was too far, even for them! Worse, their disappearance would be noticed, eventually. Yes their general bad reputation would slow that report, but it was still inevitable. And if either he or Courtney were linked to it... All his work...all his research...
"This is bad... I still haven't finished the serum yet and if the police find this..." Richard said out loud as he ran his hand through his hair. Courtney's smile, finally, seemed to fade as she narrowed her eyes.
"The serum isn't finished? But it worked!" Courtney said as she leaned a bit closer to Richard. Richard, though, only partily heard her as his mind was busy trying to figure out what to do.
"For now, but I don't know how long it will stay working. The serum might work its way out of your body and, if it does, you will shrink back, but that isn't important right now. Let me up, I need to see the state of the place so I can figure out if there is a way out of this," Richard said as he pushed against Courtney's hand. Courtney's face seemed to lose a bit of color as she, numbly, let him up. Richard figured the full weight of what she had done was finally hitting, getting through the adrenaline and survival instinct. Whatever it was it had to wait.
Richard looked over the area and was shocked to see only Rebecca's body. Her neck had, obviously, been broken but the only signs of Susan and Kimberly were their clothes. Seems his abort drug did have side-effects when used on amazons... small side-effects. But, their bodies should have been around here...
"What happened to Susan and Kimberly?" Richard asked as he glanced back at Courtney. Courtney still looked lost in thought, but snapped out of it as she looked up at him. She got a odd deer in headlights look for a second before glancing away.
"I...I tried to just... They wouldn't stop fighting so I used that stuff again and... They were so small I didn't even see them till..." Courtney trailed off as she turned completely away. Shit... Richard had never intended for that abort drug to be used twice and it was possible a second dose could result in an overall decrease in size. A terrible, and yet rather poignant, way to go... And it did make covering up the evidence easier. Richard felt bad thinking like that, but it had to be done. This was too important to let them be stopped now.
"I see... Don't... beat yourself up too much, Courtney. I am sure there are a few of their victims who did feel death was their only just punishment. And I am sure they didn't give you a choice in the matter," Richard said, trying to comfort Courtney. She didn't turn to face him, but nodded all the same.
Turning back to the mess, Richard began to put together a plan to get rid of Rebecca. It wasn't going to be pretty, but it was necessary to keep them both out of jail. But she wasn't the only problem. Courtney's sudden increase in size was going to draw a lot of unwanted attention as well if they didn't introduce that right. But that would have to wait. Richard needed to focus on Rebecca for now.
"Courtney, it might be best if you hide out in the old part of the college for a few days. I'll take care of...this and come see you when I have an idea of how to keep everyone from freaking out about your...change," Richard said as he let out a bit of a sigh. THAT was going to take some doing...
"My changes... you said they were not permanent. How long till I...?" Courtney asked, still facing away from Richard. Richard sighed and could guess where Courtney was going with this.
"Not soon enough, most likely. Might be a few days, might be a week, I won't know till I do some more tests. Just... don't worry about it for now, alright?" Richard asked as he tried to calm Courtney down. She nodded and slowly stood up. Richard couldn't help but stare as she moved to the door and ducked under it to leave. He let out another sigh as he looked over the place. What a fucking mess he had made...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Courtney had to fight not swear like mad as she left the lab. Temporary?! THIS WAS FUCKING TEMPORARY!? THAT FUCKING DUMBASS! HOW could he make a serum that wasn't permanent! Fucking God dammit, and she had thought she was finally, FINALLY done with that naïve idiot! Now she had to put up with him unless she wanted this power vanishing one day. FUCK!!
Courtney's rage continued to boil till she felt something shift in her cleavage. Courtney looked down and smiled as a small hand appeared out of her cleavage. Well... at least this day wasn't a complete waste. She HAD gotten the power she had always dreamed of, made the three biggest bitches in the school HER bitches, and keep one as a souvenir. Courtney let out of low giggle as Kimberly pulled herself out of Courtney's cleavage. She looked around in confusion before, slowly, looking up at Courtney.
"Good morning, my new toy. Hope you had a good rest because we have a long day of fun ahead of us."
Chapter End Notes:
This is going to be sorta a episodic thing I am going to be doing off and on. Each will be its own self contained thing, but have an overarcing plot.

[WilfredDDeVoe]

⚡ Support Saradas

Keep the archive alive with Bitcoin

1QDxcxUx8pnsZvauyVxTqaJrWkeNhQrPdK

Donate →

[WilfredDDeVoe]

Community
By Unknown
Recently posted at The_Valkyr_ie

Ashley looked at me with intense blue eyes, accentuated more by her dark, straight hair hanging over them, and laughed. Sitting there on the bus ride home, she had chatted with me more than any girl had in the last few years of school, and she mentioned that now that we were both graduating, she had wished she talked to me before. "I noticed you plenty of times before this, I just had a boyfriend." She responded to my surprise that she even knew who I was, much less my whole name, and even the street I lived on. I scooted closer to the window, trying to avoid touching her. I was nervous.

I had been obsessed with Ashley since the freshman year. She had always been popular, but not an attention magnet, and then had been sort of a black sheep when she left the cheer squad for the powerlifting team. A gymnast when she was younger, she was very strong, flexible, and athletic and excelled at every sport she did in her sophomore year. Now, two years later, she had gained enormous size, and had filled out in more ways than just muscle... I was a scrawny nerd who played soccer, barely noticeable, and much skinnier than her. She was also half a foot taller than me, a woman now with a thick, powerful skeletal structure, high cheek bones, and legs and ass like a racehorse. I felt puny next to her, hence the shyness and aversion to touch. We were only four stops away from our bus drop-off, so it was just us and a few other quiet kids and the driver. I still couldn't believe she had sat next to me. "I always see you heading down to the park by our houses, what's over there besides the community center to do?" She asked me, leaning closer. I knew she volunteered at the community center, and maybe just wanted to spark conversation. I also felt like she was messing with me, about to reveal the prank and embarrass me, but she waited, hands on her bare thighs and shorts tight against her massive legs, staring through me. "It's mostly soccer fields, a new jungle gym that no one uses, and the community center." She raised her eyebrow. "Well, seeing that it's the weekend, want to go for a quick workout? My parents aren't expecting me home for several hours. I can teach you a few strength techniques. On the jungle gym, or at the community center. I've got a key." There was a flash behind her eyes, a sudden thirst, and then it was gone. She was eying my body next to hers, and had moved even closer, her hand lightly and playfully grazing my own. My parents were gone for the weekend, and I had chores, but they could wait. I steeled myself, hoping this was real and she was as genuine as she seemed. "Sure, I'd love to get a workout. I doubt I'll be able to keep up with you, but I'm tougher than I look." The thirst or whatever it was flashed again, and she bit her lip, not hiding her interest. "I'll bet you are, " she said softly, almost to herself. She turned to me, pressing her legs into mine, now entirely filling the space between us in the seats. My heart almost jumped out of my chest. "Hey, want to see something cool?" Ashley asked playfully. I responded with a quiet yes, and she smiled, rolled up her sleeve, and flexed her arm for me. "Feel that, isnt that crazy for a girl?" Her arm was massive and defined, the muscle in her bicep and forearm bulging and thick.

I hesitated, and she grabbed my wrist, bringing my hand up to her arm and smashing it against the soft skin and dense muscle. "Come on, I see you staring at it. It's also stronger than it looks." I seriously doubted that, and tried to budge the skin with my grip, to no avail. "Ashley, that's incredible," I said. I felt her stare on my face, a wicked smile on her big, pouty lips. "Whew, getting hot in here, let's open up a window." She said. I was against the window, but she stood, leaning over me as I held very still and stared straight foward. Ashley's massive breast was pushing against my cheek, and I stopped breathing. It was taking forever for her to get the window open, and I glanced up to see her smiling down at me, not even working the latch. She then opened the window, and leaned even further into me, now pressing her leg against me as well as my head was smothered by her firm, ample chest. "Wow, it's really nice out today," she said as she leaned further out the window, smashing me in between her body, the window, and the seat. I knew now she was doing this on purpose, teasing me and illustrating how much larger she was. I was embarrassed, but also incredibly thankful at the same time. Someone passing by wouldn't have even seen me, as I was eclipsed by her frame completely.

She sat down next to me, this time her left arm around my shoulder, and draped her thick, muscled, tan leg over my own. The weight, hardness, and size of it alone... She had positioned herself so my right arm was behind her lower back, and I could feel the cords of muscle and the enormous width of her. I was afraid to place my hand on her. She was definitely leading the way here, and I didn't want to screw it up.... Or make her mad. She had a tight, red spaghetti strap top on, revealing breasts larger than my head that stood straight out, perky and full. I felt myself reacting to her body, and tried to think about something else...but Ashley noticed. "Ohhh, what's this?" She teased, bouncing her sinewy thigh on my leg, my dick slowly growing and throbbing next to her muscle. I flushed, and said "I'm sorry." She laughed suddenly, a rich, confident laugh. "Oh, you're sorry for that, huh? That's right," she leaned in, pressing tighter and arching her back, her breasts being shoved into my head again. Only my eyes were above the hard mounds, and I could see her lips and eyes looking down at me with passion, and a... sinister expression?  "That's right, you should be sorry. You're a naughty little boy. I might have to punish you, naughty boy. You like these hard, powerful muscles, don't you?" She had straightened her leg, the thigh filling her shorts to the max, bulging and rippling with definition. "I just can't wait until you help me with my workout, " She breathed almost to herself, focusing on the new interest she had between my legs. "... Seems like it's not even full to the max yet...

That's really nice, Eric." Our stop near the park quickly arrived, and Ashley unwound her body from mine, and stood to get her books. I had a half of an erection and shorts on, and was afraid to get up. She noticed and said.  "Don't worry, I'll cover it for you." She pulled me up by arm, then stood facing away from me and pulled my arms tight in front of her waist in a position for couples that I always envied. Her books in one hand, both of my hands in the other, we walked in unison toward the front. Her shoulders were at my eye level, and I felt ridiculous. I could barely reach around her thick frame, my body and face plastered to her hard, voluptuous torso. We paused for a moment, waiting for a kid to collect his things, and Ashley looked over her shoulder, glancing down at me with a playful expression. She pulled my arms forward, drawing me tighter into her body, and I felt her tense up.... She was flexing her glute muscles, her ass enormous and curvy. I felt them perk up, constricting and becoming hard as steel, and then relax to a thick, round pillow. Through her shorts and mine, she was clamping down on my dick slightly, bouncing the muscles around my crotch. The effect was pure ecstasy... "Oh, fuck." I whispered, and heard her laugh aloud. She bent forward slightly, which compressed on my air a bit from the size of her hardened ass, but it opened a gap in her thick, tight ass. She then straightened up which drew her glute muscles together, Ashley casually flexing with terrifying power the mass of sexual density before me. My dick and the front of my balls and shorts were sucked in, compressed by the warmth and hardness of her perfect ass. I was almost fully erect, and just the tip of my decent sized cock protruded from her ass cheeks.

"Mmm, Eric, I can feel you. You're already making me happy about this decision. You're much bigger than my ex." she breathed quietly to me. I was in shock. Her ex was bigger and taller than me, a powerlifter like her, and she had been with him since elementary school. I felt more confident now, even with this massive goddess toying with me.

We were walking again, and she had released me from her hold. My dick was protruding from the top of my shirts now, which was somewhat easier to conceal with my baggy t-shirt. Ashley had let go of my arms so we could exit the bus near the park, but still guarded me. I felt like a little toy with her, but also protected. It was... Interesting. Once the bus had left, it was just her and I. Ashley had her hands on her hips, smiling at me.

"Ohh, I'm so glad school is over!" She said this as she raised her hands behind her head, flexing huge biceps and forearms, stretching back. Her breasts were just erupting from her shirt, the threads looking like they needed reinforcement immediately, and her shirt had lifted to reveal meaty, defined abs and deep oblique lines. She sighed and looked down at me.

"Well, my new toy," What, toy? "how about a piggy back ride?" She said this playfully, walking behind me and grabbing my shoulders. This was absurd. I was confident I could hold her, I was fairly strong for my size, but it looked like a horse riding a person.. She wrapped one big leg around me and jumped up, the other leg quickly following and locking together in front of me. I was able to hold her, and she laughed. "Giddyup, horsey!" She said this as she tensed her thighs. I wasn't worried about the weight, although it would take us years to cross the field to the park like this, but when she tensed her thighs... My sides and ribs compressed, and I felt like her true power was something I could never deal with. I struggled to step forward with this giantess riding me, glad there was no one around the park area at the time. "Faster, horsey! I want a good ride!" She said, and flexed again, her legs straightening and cutting into my sides. Her inner thighs were like smooth, silky steel cables grinding into me. I immediately collapsed from the pressure, Ashley planting her feet on the ground, still above me, straddling my puny body with her giant, voluptuous figure. "Aww, my little horsey is broken." Ashley giggled above me, laughing at my failure. My feet and fingertips dragged on the ground, but my knees hovered inches above it, held between her thighs, her long legs suspending me in the air. I felt her adjust slightly, straightening her legs and flexing,  immediately immersing me in pain. Ashley moaned slightly, her thighs shaking from exertion. "Mmm, you feel good there, little toy. I can flex as hard as I want, and your body is just skinny enough that I don't break you." She demonstrated this by clenching tighter, bringing more power down onto my inferior body. Her feet were about a foot and a half apart, but the thickness and length of her leg muscles held me tight. If she had closed her legs any further or locked her ankles while flexing this hard, she most definitely would have caused serious damage. I was scrambling, barely able to grunt in effort through the pain, flailing and kicking my legs to get out from underneath her. She started to lean forward a bit, relaxing her thighs slightly but holding me there, and said, "You've got some fight in you, that's good. You'll need all of the strength you have to survive my company, little toy." I felt one of her hands and wrist reach beneath my jaw, grasping my neck, easily encircling her fingers and thumb, and she began to stand, drawing back her arm. My head and neck were pulled upward with her. She was slowly arching my back upward with my body still trapped between her massive thighs, hands clawing at her grip in a futile attempt to relieve the pressure. Ashley loosened her thighs a little, still keeping my legs and hips trapped, my feet behind her own in the dirt, and positioned her other hand an arm in the same way, pulling me all the way up to her. My back was pressed hard against her stomach, my head sandwiched between her tits, and I could just see her hair and eyes peering over my head. She held me by my chin so I wasn't being strangled, and although the position wasn't comfortable, I could at least think clearly again. Ashley's voice spoke confidently and seriously to me, the playful teasing gone now. She whispered, "OK, little toy, now you know what I can do. I can do anything I fucking want to you. And trust me, I plan to." She tensed her entire body, stretching me in the hold, her breasts solid and firm, the power of her  body over me unreal. "I'm going to give you a choice. You have already seen what I can do to you, to please you, or to hurt you. I can easily do whatever I want with your body, and I will. I will use you, and sap your inferior strength. I will take you to the breaking point, and further, for my own pleasure. The choice: I can stop now, and there will be no more pain or humiliation. Or..." She paused, released me quickly and I fell to the ground on my hands and knees. She went to one knee, sitting lightly on my back, legs still straddling me, and forced my head down to the ground with my cheek against the warm dirt. She held me there with one powerful arm, my ass in the air. I tried to push against her from the ground and only put more stress on my head. I felt her reach behind, her arm going behind my butt and between my legs as she slid her powerful hand into my shorts and boxer breifs, grabbing my balls and dick from behind with a strong but velvet soft hand. I was trapped with her body pressing down on me, my face buried in the sand. My ass was sticking in the air like a vegas hooker with her hand raping my ball sack and cock, she knelt forward and repeated herself, whispering sensually, "I can stop now, and there will be no more pain or humiliation. Or, I can continue, and there will be more of this..." She said this as she massaged my genitals with vigor, driving deep into my shorts with her powerful grip. My mind was in shambles. She was raping me, easily taking me forcefully against my will... In public nonetheless, not even 30 feet from our bus stop. She pulled her arm out, released my head and stood up, straddling me as I slowly raised my head. "I can stop now, little boy, and leave you here. Leave you wanting, and you never get to feel my strength again. No more pain or humiliation, as I said. Or... I can become your GOD." She said this with powerful conviction, the seriousness of her physical and mental control over me that she implied quite evident. Ashley stood up, helping me to my feet and gently brushing the sand from my hair and face. She playfully cooed, "Yes or no, little toy. Are you my plaything, or are you going to disappoint me?" She stood before me, hands on her hips with a slight grin, and I could tell she was displaying her body to me, her lithe, athletic physique and her immense curves rippling in the sunlight. "Yes Ashley, I want you." I muttered feebly, afraid to look into her eyes for too long. She was just...too much for me. Ashley stepped forward, grabbing me behind the small of my back, pressing her body against me lightly and asked "Yes, what? Yes, you will be my plaything, or yes, you will not worship me as your Goddess?" I bolstered myself, and looked her in the eyes, terrified but filled with lust and desire. "Yes Ashley, I want to be your plaything. I want to worship you, I want to be yours, my Goddess... my Master." She smiled at this; a huge, genuine smile as she looked into my eyes, glancing at my lips and biting her own thick, pouty lower lip. She breathed heavily, inches from my face and whispered in her sultry voice; "Oooh. That's good, my little toy. Your master likes what she hears...and feels..." She pulled me tight to her with her powerful arms, one behind my lower back, the other holding the back of my head. She was lifting me off my feet up to her, no strain at all evident in this ridiculous display of power, and kissed me, hard. As powerful as her body was, and as controlling and malicious that she had shown to be; as was her kiss. She dominated my mouth with hers, moaning and breathing raggedly, raping my lips and tongue.

After a minute of this , she abruptly released me and dropped me to the ground. I fell hard on my ass, legs shakey and unstable from the sensory onslaught. "Get up, little bitch. Pick up my books and carry them to the community center." She said as she strode off, legs flexing and enormous within her assertive gait. I scrambled, collecting my thoughts and things, gathering her books. I had seen her doing this to her ex, the passionate heat of the sun in one moment, a cold, icey stare the next. I had seen him cry once as she laughed and smiled next to him, leaning in with whispers only he could hear, holding his wrist in her grip, massive forearm and veins bulging as she squeezed. It seemed like she saved this for private moments, saving him from total public humiliation, but it was obvious in public what she represented in the relationship.

I caught up to Ashley just as she entered the back room of the community center, her key sliding back into her shorts pocket as she glided in the building. When I entered, she was moving a couch from the side of a small room, lights off but with frosted windows to see clearly in daylight, a desk and some gym equipment resting in the corner. Her body flexed with strength as she easily slid the couch in front of the door we had entered.

"There, that will give us some privacy. Drop our stuff, and take off everything but your shorts and boxers." I stood there stupidly, in shock as to what she just demanded. Before I could react, she walked forward, yelling at me, "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, BITCH?" She slapped me hard as she said this across my mouth, and I was stunned. I could taste blood on my lips, as I heard her give me the directions again; "Drop ALL of that shit, and take off your clothes, shorts on only. Now." I threw everything on the desk and changed as fast as I could. Ashley had pulled two large wrestling mats from the corner and unfolded them on the floor. She took of her athletic shoes, and stepped onto the mat. She looked even larger, maybe because of the pump she had from moving that however-million-pound couch and the mats by herself. Maybe because it was just her on the mats, looking massive, and my obvious suspicion the workout we were about to get was not what I had expected.

Ashley snapped her fingers and pointed at the mat, and I jumped into the spot she had pointed to. She had a different demeanor. Calm, serious, and menacing. The warmth was gone, but the hungry look and desire had taken on the appearance of a predator toying with a helpless animal. She stretched, and I took the hint and did the same. It was impossible for me not to look at her while she stretched though, her massive body defined and pulsing with strength. She knelt down, taking a stance on her knees, and told me to do the same. "Don't be scared, Eric. We start on our knees. No pins, only submission. If you can submit me, you will be rewarded. If you don't give me everything you've got, you will be punished. Severely. You will tap when you give up, and if I feel like you're quitting too soon I will hold it longer, tighter, and make it much, much worse, little boy." I stared at her, and she waited, arms bulging but resting at her sides, her breasts...

WHACK. The sound echoed throughout the room of her hand clapping my mouth again. "Say you understand, little bitch, or I'll start using my fists." she hissed in a fearful, quiet tone. My face was throbbing, my lower lip now bleeding again, but I said "I understand, master. I will fight you as hard as I can." She leaned forward, arm grabbing my shoulder and behind my neck, smiling and looking into my eyes, the playfulness back once again, and said, "Good, bitch, now come here and make me sweat." She pulled me forward as I planted my hands against her body, the unreal muscle harder than it looked, and she began moving side to side, shifting balance easily.

She twisted and tossed me onto the mat, following me down with her body next to mine. She was on my left side, her right arm around my neck, and had grabbed my right leg with her other arm, pulling it up. In the same motion, she wrapped her thighs around my left leg, and pulled her arms together. My left arm was beneath her body, and my right was pulling at her hands, tightly locked together. She pulsated and flexed her arms, my head being pressed down toward my leg, my leg pulled upwards into my face. It was agonizing, but all I could think of was her hot breath coming from between her thick, pouty lips inches from my face. Her massive, solid breasts consuming me... She laughed at me, a throaty chuckle that was sexy and terrifying all at once, and flexed her arms. Over and over she did this, tighter each time until my knee was by my ear, her breasts eclipsing my vision, my spine bent painfully, and I had trouble breathing. I struggled pointlessly, exerting every ounce of strength resisting her, and tapped. She tightened even more, a moan escaping her lips from powerful exertion and sadistic pleasure. Ashley's massive body engaging on the hold, bulging with strength, dominating me easily. I tapped harder, afraid that she was going to break me, remembering her saying not to be scared, and how I was more scared than ever before in my entire life. She suddenly released me and returned to her knees. "That's good, my little bitch. You can handle more than I thought. Fuck, I can't wait to destroy your body and mind..." she growled this at me, like an animal, and before I could react, she was on me again, pinning me flat and intertwining her legs around mine. Her massive thighs around my waist again, I was reminded of the silky steel she had punished me with earlier. Her hips and pelvis were weighing on my diaphragm, she had both my arms pinned to the mat above me, and her breasts were dangling above my head. She was smiling down at me, a beautiful and evil smile, her breasts heaving with each breath, as calm as someone walking on a treadmill. I was breathing heavily like I had just sprinted a mile, struggling in vain with everything to budge her even an inch. She spread my legs apart with hers, locked in tight around my ankles, and lifted her hips, causing immediate pain. Suddenly she dropped her hips hard down onto my diaphragm, flexing her legs and glutes tight into the move, blasting the wind out of my lungs and audibly forcing me to cry out.  "Uggghhh, fuck Ashl....urrgghhh..." Before I could finish my sentence, she had slammed into me again, raising her massive, muscular physique over me, tense legs imprisoning and bending my legs, huge thighs and ass powering the slam into my helpless body. She set a pace, slamming and flexing, sometimes pausing to flex herself into my body, glutes becoming concrete as she ground her pelvis into my torso. She would then raise and slam, unpredictable but continuously, completely holding me immobile. She started to slam faster and harder, her face becoming lustful, reddened and flushed, biting her lower lip and eyes closing with pleasure.

She moaned and aggressively growled her exertion, pounding faster and faster into me, no signs of slowing or tiring at all. I couldn't get a breath in, couldn't tap, couldn't voice my submission, I could only take it, to succumb to the pain she was forcing onto me, slowly being buried under her passionate, muscular domination. She abruptly stopped, looking down at me with wild eyes, her body flexed hard, keeping me immobile, her massive thighs quivering. She whispered to herself just loud enough for me to hear, "fuuuuck yessss, bitch, take it." as she released my legs with her own, leaned forward on my pinned arms, and jumped onto my neck. Her shorts were literally covering my mouth, and they felt hot and moist, the sweet smell of Ashley blending in with the fabric. Her thighs pressed to my head with all of her weight on top of me, ass completely enveloping my chest, crushing me in the most incredible yet painful feeling. She still held my arms down, but I only caught glimpses of her face, her breasts jutting so far from her body that she was hidden from view. She lifted slightly, adjusted, and came back down. Her wet, sweet smelling pussy was directly on top of my nose and mouth now, smothering me in her lust. I could only breathe her, focusing on trying to survive with the limited air and strength I had in this position. My entire face was consumed, and she spread her legs wide, her knees supporting less of her weight than my face was, my eyes now covered. Her thighs being spread wide allowed me to hear again, and I heard her sultry voice whispering again to herself, "fuck yeah, bitch, suck my cunt. Mmph, unhh." She was raping my face and asphyxiating me at the same time, powerful thighs and ass plunging my face deeper into her wet pussy, flexing and grinding above me as I struggled for air. I couldn't tap or submit again, my arms useless against her muscular grip. I could only gasp for the quickly depleting air, my entire world her hot, grinding pussy. She was fuck-slamming my face hard, no concern for me at all. My swollen lips were wrapped deep in her even through the shorts, her massive thighs and ass flexing hard as stone as she raped me. Just as suddenly as she had jumped on me, she pulled my arms up high towards her breasts, clamped her thighs on my head and neck again, and rolled onto her back. I was face down on her stomach, neck and head trapped in her muscle prison. My stomach was flat on the mat as she straightened her legs, stretching the muscle in her shorts, holding my arms straight out to her sides. She loosened her grip so I could hear for just a moment and said "keep your eyes open, and you had better fight my grip, I'm not even warmed up yet...." her thighs became pillars of concrete as she straightened them, her ankles locked high above my supine body. She quickly relaxed and adjusted, pulling me tighter into her, my throat deep in her crotch. I could feel different parts of her thighs engage as she again slowly increased the pressure, keeping her eyes on me, watching the pain in my expression as I was struggling with every ounce to fight against her much superior grip. Her outer thigh tensed, then the hardness spread as she slowly, methodically straightened her legs, eyes alight with excitement as I could feel my face turn red, grimacing from the punishment. Her fully extended legs brought tears to my eyes, and I blinked, desperately trying to keep my eyes open for fear of a worse punishment than this. I saw her face change slightly, a crease in her eyebrows as she exerted herself. In the same instant, her inner thighs swelled and constricted onto my neck, crushing what already had been smashed by her massive thighs, and cut off all blood flow. I instantly saw stars, trying desperately and pathetically to yank my arms free to tap submission, as her bulging forearms and biceps easily restrained them. I felt her hips raise up as she arched her back, her washboard stomach dancing in my face, pulling back on my arms and lifting her lower body and my head into the air. She shivered with exertion, her thighs ballooning into insane size, pulling my arms hard, destroying my body. All my senses were completely lost to this punishment, my body relaxing from oxygen deprivation as I passed into unconsciousness.

I woke up to Ashley standing over me, a look of concern on her face. She had elavated my feet to help get the blood back up to my cloudy brain. "I'm sorry, how long was I out?" I croaked, throat raw. She sat back, a light coat of sweat glistening on her body. She smiled, a kind and genuine smile, but with devious intentions under the surface. "You're sorry." She threw her head back with a rich laugh, and said it again, "You're sorry. What could my little toy be sorry for?" She said this playfully, rubbing her left hand on my thigh. I said quietly, "I'm sorry I couldn't fight harder, I will get stronger so you get a better workout." She laughed again, and said condescendingly, "Oh, my little plaything, there is no amount of strength that you will ever possess to contend with me. I own you." She forced her expression to change again, back to the serious, malicious Ashley, with a sideways grin. This was her business face, when she really meant to use me, to humiliate and dominate me. I was scared and excited at the same time. Her hand slowly crept up my shorts, her nails drawing goosebumps all over my body. She watched me, easing deeper as she brushed against my balls, tickling them with her nails, a rush of ecstasy flowing over me. My dick was getting hard, and I watched her watching me begin to bulge beneath my shorts. "Mmm. Nothing to be sorry for, little bitch, but I'm not done, yet. I've only just begun to use you." She clenched down on my dick and balls, squeezing firmly. "I'm going to make you cry," squeeze... "make you plead and beg," squeeze... "I will rape and humiliate you" squeeze.... "and then you will beg me for more." ... She squeezed firmly again, then began to rub me softly, making me hard with her expert technique, her soft yet powerful hand making my cock swell and grow. I was lost. I wanted this more than anything, the terror, the shame of her complete dominance over me, the lack of any choice or control. The humiliation she forced me easily to succumb to that clearly aroused her. I wanted it, and I asked her then, "Please, I'm begging you, Ashley, my Master, fucking RUIN ME." The mask fell for a moment and I saw her beautiful eyes filled with surprise, her pouty, full lips caught open in a visible and audible gasp. She flushed, and just before she reacted and the mask came back, I saw genuine adoration and understanding. She wanted this as much as I did, and even if I was her slave, her toy to completely destroy, she fucking loved my worship of her as well. She recovered, slipped her hand out of my shorts and the mean Ashley was back. She raised herself on her knees and moved her hands behind her head, tying her hair into a tight pony tail. I was moving to get up, staring at her massive arms flexing in the casual gesture. "You asked for it, my little bitch. But you have no idea how far down the rabbit hole goes..." I tried to respond, "Wait, Ashl..." and she slapped me hard on the mouth. This was really starting to hurt, and my mouth was swollen from her strikes, and the grinding, powerful rape I had endured as she rode my face. I fell back, covering my mouth. "What did I tell you about fighting back, slave?!?" She leapt on top of me, this time using her fists on my body, the impacts causing immediate, crippling pain. I fought as hard as I could, actually afraid for my life, desperate to protect myself from the pain. She mixed the body punches with hard, aggressive slaps, her hips and thighs planted firmly on my lower body and waist, and I squirmed and wiggled as best I could to defend myself. I became desperate, thinking of a way to survive this, and to give her the fight she wanted.  When she went for another rib shot, I slapped her as hard as I could on the cheek. After a quiet, terrifying pause, she laughed. It was a maniacal, sinister laugh, breasts heaving, her hands clenching into fists. "Now you suffer little toy." She growled, grabbing my arms and shoving them to my sides. I fought like a drowning cougar, but she was enraged, as mad and powerful as a bull. She bent my fingers back to the breaking point on my left, and I slapped my other arm quickly to my side in submission. She straddled that side of me with her muscular thigh, and forced the other arm down easily into the same position. With my arms trapped, she suddenly grabbed my hair, lifted me up, her other arm flexing as she reached back, and punched me full in the mouth, my ears ringing from the impact. "Ashley, please, what the f..." I managed to sputter before she hit me again, directly on my lips. My lips had blood openly flowing from them now, so swollen that I had a lisp, and Ashley was giggling now on top of me, saying, "Oh, my little bitch, I ruined your perfect face." She held me trapped between her thighs as I weakly tried to struggle with her, and she held me still. "Stop. Lie still or I will hit you again." She whispered to me, and I froze. She leaned over me, hand caressing my face and lips, and started licking the blood from my lips. The sensuality mixed with humiliation and agony I felt in this primal, wicked action broke me. I started to whimper and tears fell from my eyes. "Yes, my broken little toy. Cry for your master." Ashley said, pushing my lips together so she could kiss and lick the blood. She licked my tears, kissed the bruises on my jaw, and started again on my lips. She sucked and bit on them, becoming more and more aggressive as I whimpered below her superior body, completely beaten to submission. Ashley stood, picking me up from under my arms and threw me onto the couch. She jumped on me, her hips and massive thighs knocking the wind out of me, as she continued biting and sucking my lips with no remorse. She removed her top, her breasts not moving an inch, perky, full and enormous directly before my beaten face. She held the back of my head with one arm, the other reaching back behind her huge ass, between my legs, as she massaged my balls. She started to move her hips, abs flexing with power as she rode my body.

Grinding me into the couch, her powerful body slick with sweat and blood, my dick was rock hard in seconds. She ripped my shorts off, and then her own, flexing massive arms in the movement, the fabric not standing a chance. She found my swollen cock with her warm, dripping, wet pussy, and took me deep inside her in one motion. She gasped and threw her head back, her thick neck and muscular shoulders flexing, arms against the back of the couch using their tremendous power to slam her pussy onto my dick, harder and faster in each thrust. She grabbed my throat, choking me and smiling as she gyrated her massive body. I felt her ass clenching as fhe flexed and fucked my body, her muscular ass checks massaging and pulling on my balls as they clenched. Ashley smashed my face deep into her breasts, wrapping her powerful arms around me as the intensity of her thrusts continued to increase. I was smothered completely, my body envoloped on again by hers as she held me tight, my body being ravaged by her powerful, passionate thrusts. The intensity grew, as she was crushing me harder and harder in her breasts, her hips and thighs exploding with the power of her toy-fucking. The speed was incredible, her body slightly hovering above my own, massive thighs and ass a blue, her abs rippling in exertion as she engulfed me cock. She was slamming hard and fast, crushing my balls and legs when she released my head. I gasped for air that I had forgotten I needed, and with a massive, violent groan Ashley came hard on top of me, soaking my dick and legs in her juices, the beautiful and sadistic woman I barely knew finally fulfilling her lust with my torturous, complete destruction. Ashley arched her back as she caught her breath, a devious smile on her face as she started riding me again, my dick still throbbing.

She leaned in over me, both of her hands resting on my neck, thumbs on my jawline, her muscles seeming bigger and bigger the longer this workout went. She whispered, slightly out of breath, "Eric. Come for me." It was a command, but it was almost gentle, and it was the first time she had called me by my real name since the bus. I was suddenly aware of everything, my tortured and wrecked body, the couch that was also a locked door, the mats.

It was all so surreal. Mostly, I really took in Ashley, my "master" now, and absorbed how absolutely fucking perfect she was. I think she saw this on my face, because she doubled down, compressing her hands and lightly squeezing my neck so that I had a sensation of pain and asphyxiation, but an illustration of her control and power that was not agony, but insanely arousing. Her thighs were clearly defined, flexing as I felt her pussy clench down on me, her muscular control uncanny as she massaged my dick with intense and satisfying pressure. Just before I came, she jumped off of me, grabbing a pair of shorts in tatters on the ground, and covered my dick, milking me with her powerful grip as I twitched and writhed through the biggest orgasm of my life. Once I was done, she straddled me again, caressing my hair and kissing my bruises and swollen lips. She teased me, mocking me as she addressed the bruises, reminding me of how and what she was doing when I got them, how my face looked, how easily she had done it to me as I struggled with every ounce of strength. "Your arm looks so pitiful when mine is next to it. I'm so much fucking stronger than you. I can't wait to become bigger, stronger, and even more powerful than I am now, my little sexy bitch." She said.

Ashley and I dug through the donation clothes of the community center, and found a bag of clothes that still had tags on them, clean and fairly close to our sizes. She moved the couch and the mats back as I watched, my body completely spent and soreness I had never experienced before in every single muscle fiber. Even my hair hurt. We left, gathering our things, and she took my hand in hers, a confident and powerful but soft grip that eclipsed my own. She looked at me intensely as she was laying the ground rules for how our relationship would go. That I was lesser than her in every way, and that she owned me, but she wouldn't humiliate me (too much) in public, unless I got brave again. She rubbed her cheek at this, and was smiling. I had forgotten I struck her, but I also knew she liked it. Once we arrived at her driveway, she looked at me, hands on her hips, clad in a new flannel shirt and cutoff Jean shorts, her cleavage busting through the fabric, thighs massive beneath the denim. "Any questions, my perfect little slave?" She said this, flexing slightly, towering over me, a teasing grin in her face. She knew she owned me, and that I wanted her to own me. Ashley loved that she could and would absolutely destroy me, even if I fought with everything I had, to try and stop her. I gulped, the sight of her exciting me all over again, and managed: "So, when is round two?"   

[jhunter]

This is great writing. I can't wait for more.

[WilfredDDeVoe]

Ultimate Power Ultimately Corrupts

silentc123-mail@yahoo.com

Prologue

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.


Last edited by silentcrs on Tue Jun 22, 2010 6:16 pm, edited 1 time in total

Report this post
     
Profile Send private message 
Reply with quote 
silentcrs    
Post subject: Re: Ultimate Power Ultimately Corrupts (warning: violent)
PostPosted: Mon May 31, 2010 11:12 pm
Offline
Contributor

Joined: Thu Oct 19, 2006 10:17 pm
Posts: 50    
Chapter 1 - The Cheerleader

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.


Chapter 2 - The Lifeguard

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.

Chapter 3 - The Bridesmaid

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.

Chapter 4 - The Triplets

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, and 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 dribble 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.

Chapter 5 - The Detective

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.

[WilfredDDeVoe]

Here is another one from my files.

Camilla - by little mikey

Chapter 1 - Friday
Mark couldn't believe what he was hearing.  "Is it because I haven't made a sale this month?  It's just a temporary lull; I'm sure of it.  I know I'll rebound next month."
Janet, his boss, shook her head patiently.  "Everyone has lulls," she said down to him.  "That's not the reason, Mark.  Our company is simply struggling financially and we have to make a few cutbacks.  It's nothing you did wrong, personally."
His hands fretted nervously.  He always struggled talking with Janet, ever since she got promoted a few weeks ago.  They used to get along OK as coworkers, but now that she was his boss – and had gotten so much taller, too – their relationship had completely changed.  And not at all for the better.
He hated having to look up at her – and by more than a foot now, with her heels on.  It made things so much worse.  He wished Steve was still around – he had been a great boss, and far more approachable.  And not so damned tall!
He forced his fretting hands down and began unhappily, "But ... but ..."
"You may be misunderstanding me!" she reassured him.  "Don't worry!  You still have a job.  And your hours will still be nearly full-time."
"But why do I have to work from home now??"  That seemed like a very bad sign.
"With everything in flux right now, this works best for the company."
That didn't help at all.  "How will I even meet with clients?" he inquired.
"By phone, of course!  That's how we handle most of our clients, anyway."
"But not the big ones.  Can I still come in for in-person meetings?"
Janet visibly frowned.  "Hmm ... we'll see."
A strangled groan left his lips.  That's when it all clicked for him.  He finished the conversation in a daze, distractedly nodding when Janet said he could stay for the day but clean out his desk by 5 pm.  It was all very obvious, really.
* * *
At the bar after work, he told his friend and former coworker, Alan, what had happened.  Alan swore under his breath and shook his head.  "That sucks, man.  That really, really sucks."
"They told you basically the same thing, right?" Mark inquired.
"Almost word for word.  Man, I'm sorry, buddy."
Alan had been working at the company almost as long as Mark had, until he'd been abruptly laid off just three weeks ago.  After talking with Alan afterward, though, there had apparently been warning signs in the weeks leading up to it: Alan being shuffled off a few high-profile clients, being left out of several key in-person meetings (supposedly by 'accident'), and finally being told outright that he'd be restricted to phone calls only, when dealing with clients.
"But what happened next?" Mark asked.  He hadn't heard all the details.  "Did your remaining clients know what was happening?"
"I dunno.  Probably not.  But it didn't matter.  Janet asked Breanne to start listening in on the phone calls, too – to 'gain experience', she claimed.  But then Breanne started calling them on her own after that, always with excuses like I was 'in a meeting' when they called, etcetera.  You know, I checked Breanne's phone log – she's the one who called them!  And I was free at the time!  One by one, all my clients went away like that – most of them to Breanne; some to other saleswomen.  But always women, Mark.  I'd call it a sexist conspiracy, but they're barely even trying to hide it.  They just won't admit it outright, for legal reasons.  I'm sure of it."
Mark stared despondently at his glass. "Hey," Alan said, clinking glasses with him.  "Bottoms up, man.  Nothing else we can do."  And they drank to their sorrow.
* * *
Mark stepped inside his house and stood there glumly.  He was barely buzzed anymore, now just glum.
The door opened behind him twenty seconds later and his eldest daughter, Camilla, bumped into him and almost knocked him over on her way in.  "Oh – shit!  Sorry, Dad!" she said, stepping back and wiping some drops of sweat that transferred from her glistening body to him.  From her breathing, it sounded like she just got back from a run.
Like all women, she had gained height dramatically in recent months, and while the top of her head used to come only to his chin, now the situation was exactly reversed.  And her slender figure and waspy waist had filled out just as dramatically; her shoulders and hips were now far broader than his (distressingly so) and her newly-acquired penchant for weightlifting and exercise had turned his once-bookish and entirely nonathletic daughter into something resembling a WNBA all-star basketball center – only with exaggerated curves and pretty ridiculous breasts.
It was a terrible combination, that she'd grown a gajillion cup sizes while at the same time her height brought her chest so much closer to his face.  It was a constant annoyance and distraction every time they talked, now.  He didn't want to notice his daughter's breasts, but at that size and proximity they were impossible to simply ignore – particularly now, with them stuffed into a far too tight and much too revealing sports bra.  With nothing else to cover her torso, her wide, flared hips and washboard abs were on full display as well.  Not to mention her arms, which seemed more toned and formidable every day.  Unless he was just imagining things.
Mark regained his footing and brushed it off.  "That's fine.  How are you today?"
"Great.  Just ran back from the gym.  Had an awesome workout!  I'm really loving it there."
"That's nice, dear.  You—wait ... the gym on 9th and William?"
"Yeah."
He frowned up at her.  "Isn't that, like, 5 miles away?"
"Nah – not even 4 and a half, according to Google."
He frowned.  She was breathing like she'd only run a mile or less, not 4.5.  "How long did that take you?" he asked dubiously.
She shrugged.  "I dunno.  But slower than I ran on the way there, though."
What – nine miles total?  PLUS a workout?  Baloney.  I know she's lying now.
But before he could call her out, she said, "Um, 'scuse me, real quick."  Her big chest whooshed past him as she poured herself a big glass of water, downed it in seconds, then repeated.  Her glistening limbs and back showed considerable tone ... not to mention she was just huge now.  It wasn't like he was intimidated or anything – the thought of her ever trying to challenge him physically was just ridiculous; he knew her well enough to know she'd never dream of such a thing.  But he did wonder if he would actually win a direct contest now – she did look pretty strong...
She started doing stretches – first tucking each leg behind her, then stretching her arms, then bending right over and touching her toes.  Holy jesus crappity smack ... His eyes accidentally looked down her cleavage – it was impossible not to; there was so damned much of it.  He looked away immediately, of course, but the image was still seared in his mind.
He couldn't help but groan and tell her, "Didn't we talk about you wearing tops like that?  I mean, Christ, Camilla, you have to consider your body now."
She straightened up and glared annoyedly.  "It's just me and you here, Dad – why should that matter at all??"
"Well, it doesn't!" he clarified quickly.  "Not for me.  I'm talking about when you're in public."
She was really peeved now, as she snatched a shirt out of her bag and waved it.  "I wore this the whole way there, AND at the gym, and most of the way home – until I got too hot.  And besides ... I'm 20 years old, and why should you have any say in what I wear??"
He hesitated, then sighed reluctantly.  "You're right – it's not my place.  It's just that, frankly, your body has changed a lot lately and I wanted to remind you."
She sniffed angrily.  "No, you still wanted to dictate wh—Ugh, never mind!  Can we not argue, for once?"
He nodded amenably.  "Sounds good.  I won't bring it up again."  He knew he almost certainly would, but not for a while at least.  "Hey," he added pacifyingly, "it is nice having you back home."
She lightened up and nodded.  "Yeah – I'm glad to be back too.  Thanks for letting me stay here, by the way."
"You've told me that already," he reminded gently.  "But you're welcome.  And again, stay as long as you want – I mean it."
"Thanks, Dad."  She smiled and went off to her old room.
Camilla had been away at college for the last two years but had gotten a bit burned out and wanted to take a break for a year.  Mark, despite applying perhaps a little more pressure on her to stay in school than he should have, ultimately welcomed her home with open arms.  She'd only been back a few weeks now (incidentally, she'd been about five inches shorter at the time she'd arrived ... still much taller than she used to be, though), and although they found plenty of things to fight about, they usually were able to resolve it within a day or two, or sooner.
While she was home, she'd expressed interest in finding a job – something a little higher than grocery store attendant, something that could help pay the bills but also be a little rewarding.  He had told her there's no rush, since the family was just fine in terms of money and all ...
He frowned.  I might not have a job for long, he remembered.  But that was an issue for later.  He had the weekend to look forward to.

[WilfredDDeVoe]

Camilla - by little mikey Continued

Monday
He was awoken by a knock on his door.  Moments later, Camilla barged in, carrying her younger sister Kayla on her back.  Kayla was normally much too old to be carried by piggyback – but her relationship with Camilla had taken a rather odd turn since Camilla had returned home.  Kayla had always looked up to her big sister a whole lot, and Camilla used to give Kayla piggyback rides some 8 or 10 years ago ... but now that Camilla was so much bigger than Kayla again, they almost seemed to have reverted back to a similar dynamic, in some ways.  It was strange how much Kayla liked being around Camilla and being carried by her and so on.
Anyway, Camilla discovered their father was still in bed, and she said, "Whoops!  I assumed you were up.  Sorry.  C'mon, Kayla, let's leave him alone for now."
"OK, Cammy," Kayla replied.  That was something she hadn't called Camilla since elementary school, too.
They left, and Mark rolled his eyes.  So weird.  He sat up and rubbed his eyes.  Mark had somewhat intentionally slept in later than usual – working from home, he needn't get up as early anymore.  But he also hadn't mentioned the new arrangement to Camilla or his other kids yet.
This became quite awkward, when the younger kids went off to school and Camilla ended up sticking around past 9 AM before heading out.  At around 8:40, of course, she asked why he was still at home.  "I'm just ... working from home today," he admitted.
"Oh?  How come?"
This was the tricky part.  "I ... think I might have a cold.  Don't want to get anyone sick."
"Huh.  You seem fine to me."  She stepped toward him.
"Hey, hey, I don't want to get you sick either," he excused.
She laughed.  "Uh ... alright.  But is everything OK at work?"
"What do you mean?"
She shrugged.  "You hear stuff in the news about a lot of guys losing their jobs, or voluntarily staying at home, or ... well, you know.  Times are changin'."
Now things were getting uncomfortable.  He tried not to fidget.  "Uh ... I guess.  But things are fine."
"You promise?  I mean, you do still have a job, right?"
He guffawed.  "Of course!  Don't be silly."
She nodded, convinced.  "OK, cool.  Sorry to pry.  I just want you to know, Dad, that you can feel free to talk to me about these things.  In fact ... well, I know you're the head of the house, of course, but as another adult in the family, it'd be really nice if you could stay open with me and all that.  I'd like to help if I can."
What a strange request.  "Um ... sure.  Yes, of course.  And I appreciate it."
As she nodded and went away, he wondered, Did she see through me?  Does she actually think I'm struggling at work, or was that truly just a random offer?
As he thought about it, her tone when she mentioned guys losing their jobs and all that almost made it seem like she thought it was inevitable.
Bah.  I'm just imagining things.
* * *
Right after Camilla left, Mark settled into his home office and got to work as usual.  It was actually a pretty normal day, other than being at home.  He got caught up on a few tasks, made some calls to clients, sent a few emails; all just like any other day.
He was a little surprised when none of his friends or close colleagues at work reached out to him about working from home, either by email or phone.  He would have expected someone at least to mention it at some point, maybe ask him how he was handling it; heck, even joke about it with him.  But there was nothing.
* * *
That afternoon, though, he realized he may have gotten calls to his work phone but he wasn't there to answer them.  He decided to call his phone directly to bring up his voicemail.
But after two rings, a young woman answered.  "Hello?  This is Sherryl."
He blinked.  "Sherryl Price?"  She was a new hire – straight out of college; quite sharp, great personality ... and a real beauty, too, incidentally.  The few times they'd interacted, it seemed to have gone quite well.  If she wasn't just half his age, he would undoubtedly have asked her out already.  Well, that and the fact that – like all women – she was at least several inches taller than him, which still really weirded him out.
"Yep," the smart, attractive young blonde replied.  "Who is this?"
"This is Mark."
"Mark who?"
"Mark Lawrence."
He heard a creak – like she had suddenly jerked forward in her chair.  "Oh!" she exclaimed, seemingly suddenly flustered.  "Of ... of course."
What's with the weird reaction?  And—wait ... "Sherryl?  Can I ask what you're doing in my office?"  He tried to say this as nicely as possible, but he was admittedly a little annoyed.  What good reason could she possibly have?
"They ... said this room was available," his young coworker explained sheepishly.
It took him a second to suss this out, but then he laughed.  "Ah.  I see now.  They're still deciding who gets to move in to my office, and you figured you'd slip in while it's free, eh?  Haha – nice move.  But between you and me, Janet doesn't take well to shenanigans, so you might want to clear out before she learns you snuck in."
Silence.
"Sherryl?"
"Janet told me to come here."
"Huh?"
"I mean, uh ... this is my office now."
Mark froze – then he laughed.  "Haha, you had me there.  What'd she really say?"
"She said this is my office."
His smile faded.  Sherryl didn't seem to be joking.  But she HAS to be joking, right??  It took me ten years to move out of the cubicles and get my own office!  And she's only been working here a few months!
He expected Sherryl to say 'sike!' any moment now ... but she didn't.  Mark became uneasy.  "Would you mind putting me through to Janet?" he asked, forcing his voice steady.  "Extension 202."
There was a long pause, and then: "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
Mark's eyes widened.  "What!??  Don't be silly!  I just—"
"Um, sorry, Mark, but the Scoville Company should be here any minute and I'm supposed to meet them by Reception, so—"
"Wait ... WHAT!?!  They're my biggest client!!  Why would YOU be meeting them, and not ... not ..."
"Drat!" he heard her mutter – she clearly wasn't supposed to have told him that.
His head swam, as reality set in.  Alan's words were coming true; he just never expected it to happen so soon, or for Sherryl to be the one.  Someone with years of sales experience, he could understand – but SHERRYL!?!
"I really have to go," the young employee said in a strained voice, before hanging up.
Mark ran his hands through his hair, then called Janet directly.  It went to voicemail, and he probably should have thought it through first, but he ended up in a tirade.  "Janet!" he exclaimed bitterly.  "This is Mark.  I guess I'm not surprised about my clients ... but SHERRYL!?!  She just started here!!  You can't possibly be serious!!  That's just absolutely ridiculous!!!"
He hung up angrily – but immediately regretted it.  He called back a minute later, calmer now, and left another message: "Janet – I'm sorry for flying off the handle.  That was out of line.  Please, just call me back.  I'll ... await your call."
* * *
He didn't get anything done after that; too busy fretting. It took over an hour, but finally he got a call back, from a company landline.  "Janet?" he answered.
"No – it's Sherryl."
"Huh?  Oh ... hi, Sherryl.  Sorry, I was expecting a call from Janet.  She—"
"I talked to her."
"You did?  So when's she calling me back?"
After a pause: "She's not."
Mark blinked.  "Excuse me?"
"She said she was too busy, and she wanted me to—um ... address your concerns myself."  That clearly wasn't the language Janet had used.  He wasn't sure he wanted to know the real words ...
"Umm," he replied slowly, "OK, that's really strange, but if I could just—"
"Oh ... sorry to interrupt, Mark, but could I speak?  I kinda have a lot to do.  I'll be honest, Mark – she's not happy that you found out so soon.  The plan was to fill you in gradually, but you seem to know what's going on, so she gave me the OK to fill you in on basically everything now."  She paused respectfully.  "Mark ... you'll be let go at the end of the week."
This hit Mark like a 2x4.  So soon??  He became emotional.
Sherryl went on, "Janet wanted me to thank you for your many years of hard work, and—"
"She can't tell me that herself!?" he challenged angrily.
"Mark, I'm on your side.  Please just listen.  You still have important work to do, in helping transition your clients over to me and getting me up to speed on things.  You—"
"So you're my replacement?  A twenty-year-old??"
"I'm twenty-two," Sherryl deadpanned, starting to lose patience.  "Look, Mark, obviously this isn't the ideal way to break this to you, and I understand your frustration, but I do need your help.  And I ... well, I have to ask that you be cooperative with me."
He scoffed bitterly.  "And what if I'm not – huh??  What if I just quit today?"
"You'll lose your last two weeks' pay – but more importantly, you may lose your pension, too."
He fell into stunned silence.  This is bullshit!!
"Will you cooperate?"
He wanted to tell her off – and Janet, too.  Mostly Janet.  But although the pension wouldn't kick in for another fifteen years, it was worth a good chunk of money later on.  He choked back his anger and said slowly, grimly, "OK.  I'll cooperate."
Sherryl sounded relieved.  "Good.  Thank you."  Another pause, then: "So ... while I have you ... what can you tell me about the Samford account?"
* * *
Just minutes after he got off the phone with Sherryl – one of the most humiliating calls of his life – Camilla came home from her daily workout.  For all he knew, she supposedly ran to and from the gym again – nine miles, if she's to be believed.
"How's working from home?" she asked cheerfully, wiping sweat from her brow.
"It's ..."  His voice trailed off, and his mouth curled into a dismal frown.
He hid it quickly, but too late.  "What happened??" Camilla inquired, suddenly intently focused.  She knelt next to his desk and put a hand on his shoulder encouragingly.  "Are you losing your job?"
It was all too much – his shame, his frustration ... and those goddamned breasts!!  He caught a glimpse of her deep cleavage again and groaned.  Why does she have to keep wearing that skimpy top!!  Why does she have to be so damned big and strong and curvy all over??  I can't freaking focus!!
He was just emotional, he knew; it made things much harder.  But he ended up breaking down and admitting almost everything – that he was being phased out at work, that he'd be out of the job by Friday, even stupidly admitting that a 22-year-old was taking his place.
Oddly, Camilla didn't balk at any of this.  She expressed sympathy and support, but he again got the sense that she saw this coming, that it was inevitable.  Why? he wondered.  Because I'm a man?  Is that it?  He decided he really didn't like where society was headed, nowadays.  In fact, he crappity smacking hated it.
********************************

[WilfredDDeVoe]

Camilla - by little mikey Continued

Tuesday
After they saw the kids off the next morning, Camilla turned to Mark.  "I'd like to stay home for a while this morning," she declared kindly.  "You're going through a lot, and I want to help."
He frowned.  "Really, that's not necessary.  I'm sure you have things you want to do today."
She laughed and kissed his forehead.  She had to bend down a smidge to do so.  Why can't she be short again...
"Nothing I'd rather do than be here," she assured him.  "Seriously – your wish is my command.  Want a nice breakfast?  Eggs?  Waffles?  French toast?"
"I, um ..."  He shrugged.  "I guess, eggs and waffles, if you're offering."
"You bet!"  She began bustling about the kitchen, getting things ready.  He really didn't have anything to do until 9:00 – Sherryl requested he be available then; the nerve!!! – so he just awkwardly loitered for a while.
Just before he decided to leave, Camilla smiled encouragingly and, while mixing ingredients in a bowl, said to him, "Really, we should view this as a good thing.  What if you'd stayed on at the firm?  How much longer could you really have held on, anyway?  And don't you think it'd be stressful having to fight to survive, so to speak?  To constantly fight a losing battle?  At least this way, you know exactly when your job is ending, and you can move on."
Mark's jaw slowly dropped.  "That's ... incredibly offensive," he accused.
She jerked her head up.  "What?  No, I'm just observing where society is heading."
"But you almost sound like you WANT things to change this way."
"That's not what I'm saying at all!  I think it really sucks that you're losing your job, for things outside your control. All I'm saying is it's better to accept and embrace things you can't control, rather than let yourself get dragged down by them."
"Easy for you to say," he retorted. "You're a woman.  You have it easy."
She huffed.  This really got under her skin. "Yeah, well, that wasn't always the case. Women haven't exactly had it easy in the past – or haven't you noticed?  In situations like this, you just have to keep your head up and keep moving forward."
"Advice from a 20 year old," he grumbled, leaving the room.
Camilla scowled unhappily.  I know he's going through a rough time, but does he have to be SO sour about it?  I hope this improves soon.

[WilfredDDeVoe]

Camilla - by little mikey Continued

Chapter 2 – Friday

Camilla's dad remained ornery all week, especially on Friday when he was officially terminated. Camilla wanted to do something nice for him so she got his friends' numbers from his phone and organized a poker night at their house without Dad knowing. She even put her own plans that week on hold to make the house presentable for their guests.
After consoling her dad as much as she could, she broke the evening's plans to him.  He frowned at first, but she saw him warm up to the idea slowly. Better than just drinking his sorrows away at a bar like he sometimes does.
* * *
Despite the rough day, Mark was reasonably content as he and four of his best friends sat around the table in the basement playing No Limit Texas Hold'em.  They sat around shooting the shit for a while until everyone had arrived.  The kids were all upstairs sleeping or doing their own thing, and Camilla promised they wouldn't be disturbed.  Which sounded great to him.
They commiserated with him on his lost job briefly, but moved on quickly, as guys do.  Then they laughed and joked just like old times, like nothing had changed.  They were all on their second beer when Mark pulled the cards out and started dealing.  "So, what's the buy-in?" he asked.
"It's your house," Ray said.  "Your call."
"Hold up," Nestor cut in, "the man just lost his job.  Maybe he wants to play for peanuts.  Or maybe candy wrappers."
The guys all snorted and laughed.  "crappity smack you," Mark joked.  He didn't mean it at all.  This kind of dry humor was just what he needed.  "10 bucks?" he asked, on a more serious note.
Ray shrugged and nodded, but Alan, and even Phil, winced.  "Let's go with 5," Alan suggested, and Ray seemed amenable too.
"What, your wife's tightening the purse strings on you?" Ray goaded.
Phil didn't reply.  He just looked down and seemed ... glum.
The mood in the room started to shift.  "My wife gave me a $20 spending limit tonight," Phil said eventually.
Mark laughed – until he realized Phil was serious.  "Oh," Mark said hastily.  "Sorry.  I ... thought you were joking."  He blinked a few times.  "But why would ... I mean, don't you make good money?"
Phil looked at him, then down again, then back to Mark.  "I, uh, quit my job."
"What??  You quit voluntarily?  How come?"
Alan nudged Mark's elbow and shook his head.  That surprised Mark most of all.  He looked around, and everyone in the room seemed to know something he didn't.  "What?" he asked.  "What's happening?"
"Don't worry about it," Alan smoothed over.  "I'm sure there's better stuff we can talk about, eh?  And as long as Nestor doesn't play like an daft, that $20 should last him a while, huh?"
Phil forced a thin smile.  "Let's play," he agreed.
The mood gradually became less uncomfortable – but Mark remained perplexed.  What aren't they telling me??
* * *
He forgot all about it as they got into the game.  Within less than an hour, Mark was up about $8 and feeling good – thanks to the beer, too, of which he'd had three now.  The others were keeping up with him, too.  Before long, the downstairs fridge was empty.
"Deal me out," Mark told Ray.  "I'll bring down some more six-packs."
"I'll help you," Nestor offered, standing immediately.
"I should help, too..." Phil chimed in, with a sly grin.
"You guys are never that helpful," Mark replied, confused.  "I—Oh."  He put two and two together.  "Screw you guys," he said with rolling eyes, waving them off.
Nestor and Phil sat back down, and they all laughed except Mark, who grumbled under his breath.  They were all hoping to get a peek at Camilla – well, Nestor and Phil were for sure.  Maybe the others too, for all Mark knew.  But those two in particular had been ribbing him about his 'hot daughter' in recent weeks.  It was getting kind of annoying, honestly.
Camilla must have heard him coming up the stairs, because she was already coming to meet him by the stairway door when he opened it – already holding four six-packs, one in each hand and one pressed against each hip.  "You guys run out?  I figured you would.  Hold the door for me?"  Her large frame glided toward him.
"Oh – I'll get them," he offered, but Camilla just laughed and brushed past him.  "You really don't have to go down there," he insisted.
Camilla stopped two steps down and grinned back at him.  "But what would be the fun in that?"  She winked and kept going.
Oh hell.  The only thing worse than his friends all having a crush on her, was that she already knew about it – and seemed to encourage it at every turn.  It may have been funny to her, but not to him.
"Hey, boys!" she announced at the bottom of the stairs, accompanied by cheers.  When he made it down there, his friends were all ogling her – even the three married ones, Ray, Phil, and Alan.  She smiled and made small talk with each of them – and contact, too; patting their backs, resting her hand on their arms, etc., as she served them beers.  She's acting like a goddamned Hooters girl, Mark lamented.  Only ... I'm not sure even Hooters would have a shirt big enough for her in the chest... Ugh!
He sat down and freely rolled his eyes.  Not that anyone noticed; they were all looking her way still, as she laughed and joked.  I remember when she was a shy, timid book worm, he thought glumly.  And that was just 6 months ago!
She put the remaining beers in the fridge and started up the stairs.  "Wait!" Nestor beseeched.  "Stay for a few hands!"
"Yeah," added Phil.  "You know how to play?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty good," she replied matter-of-factly.  "But I dunno ..."
"Stay!" Nestor coaxed again.  "See, there's an extra chair for you."  He walked over and brought the chair up next to him.  So very helpful of him, Mark thought dryly.
Camilla's eyes caught Mark's briefly, but she just grinned.  "Heck, why not.  Just a few hands."
The mood instantly improved even more as she sat down.  And when she tossed her cardigan off, revealing a tight tank top and a lot of cleavage, the room fairly buzzed with excitement, from everyone but Mark.
Nestor in particular couldn't stop beaming.  "Here, have some," he offered almost immediately, holding out his beer to her.
"What a gentleman!" Camilla laughed, patting him on the back.  "But Nestor," she chided playfully, "I'm only twenty, remember?"
"That's, um, old enough for me," Nestor replied, his grin turning almost blatantly suggestive.
Oh, Christ, Mark bemoaned.  Someone needs to cut him off.
No one else even rolled their eyes, though.  "I think you'd better ask your dad for permission," Ray cut in, laughing at his own joke.  The others all joined in.
Odd, Mark thought.  Shouldn't she?
With a playful glint in her eye, Camilla took the offered bottle, looked to Mark and asked, "Well, Daddy?  May I?"
His friends were still chuckling.  Why would her asking permission be this funny?  He rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time and said, "Hell, why not.  Go for it."
Camilla beamed.  She did have a beautiful smile, he had to give her that.  Tossing her long, blonde hair over her shoulder, she tossed her head back and drank.  And drank.  And drank.
"Ahhh...!" she exclaimed, slamming the empty bottle down on the table.  The others loved it; they hooped and hollered and slapped her on the back like she was one of the guys now.  Mark was semi-speechless; to his knowledge, she'd never even drunk a drop of alcohol before in her life.  Well... had she?  She certainly could have, in college – but knowing how introverted and shy she used to be, I guess I had assumed not.  Yet here she was, chugging a nearly-full bottle in one swig, without even batting an eye.  Mark wasn't sure he could even do that.
"Well, we all better drink to that!" Phil cheered, and the rest of them immediately assented.  Soon Mark was the only guy without a beer in his hand.  They all goaded him verbally, but it was Camilla's smirk, mostly – almost like she was playfully challenging him or something – which egged him on.
As they all chugged, she watched him the entire time – and laughed when he gargled a bit toward the end, nearly spitting it all out.  He'd drunk it too fast – for him, anyway.  Camilla seemed amused.
"Want another, babe?" Nestor asked, rising up.  Mark wanted to sock him in the jaw; he was getting more and more annoying.
But suddenly Camilla's hand fell on Nestor's shoulder, and he dropped like a rock.  Mark thought he even heard a 'thud' when he hit the chair ... It happened so fast that Mark didn't really know what happened.  But he couldn't have just imagined it, since Nestor's head whirled toward her and his eyebrows shot way up.  He seemed breathless, but in a very odd way.
Camilla, hand still on his shoulder, said, "I'll get it," then leaned in and whispered something in his ear which made his smile widen and eyebrows rise even higher.  Mark swore he saw Camilla's fingertips swiftly trace up the side of Nestor's neck, all the way past his ear, as she rose from her seat.
"Anyone else want something?" she asked cheerfully.  The others were either as stunned as Mark was, or maybe just imagining themselves in Nestor's shoes, because no one answered.  Camilla laughed like she knew why, and answered, "Another round for everyone, it is!  And you S-O-B's better drink it, too – haha!  All the easier to take your money, that way."
This brought chuckles and smiles all around, save Mark.  As she passed the new brews around, they all thanked her warmly and continued to smile as she sat back down.  When she realized she didn't have the money, three of them offered to cover her buy-in all in unison – even Phil, with his wife-imposed spending limit!  Camilla smiled and demurely declined, but Mark grumbled then forked up the money himself and put an end to that.
Camilla folded at least the first dozen hands, either right away or a few times on the flop.  She didn't seem to care, and appeared less interested in the game than in shooting the breeze and joking around with the guys (and she did fit right in with that, surprisingly).  She hardly seemed to be paying attention at all, really.
She got lucky and won the first time she didn't fold.  "Oh, that's me!" she exclaimed, sounding surprised as she raked in the modest pile of chips.  Mark heard the chatter suddenly die down, and realized they were all looking down her cleavage as she bent forward.  Those freaking pigs!  Dammit, guys!
"Well played, Camilla!" Ray complimented.  He was the one she beat on that hand.  "I'll drink to that."
Camilla grinned.  "You'd better!  You know, where I'm from, every time a girl beats you, you gotta drink!"
Ray laughed.  "Sure.  I'm down for that."  The others shrugged and nodded too – even Mark, for the hell of it.  He doubted it would happen often, the way she plays.
* * *
Oddly, Camilla started playing a lot more after that – and winning.  Much more than she lost.  With the guys taking a swig every time she beat them, they soon seemed too buzzed – and generally distracted by her – to really notice how well she was doing.  In short order, she had the biggest stack of chips at the table.
But Mark saw a pattern: she was bluffing constantly.  Or at least it seemed so.  The other guys didn't seem to notice – but Mark was watching.  Next time it was down to just him and her, he looked up from his cards and saw Camilla grinning at him confidently.  "What?" he asked.
"Oh ... nothin'.  I think I have you beat, is all."
"Ooooh ..." the others joked.
Mark peered into her overconfident eyes and scoffed.  "Well, I think you're bluffing.  I'll see your dollar fifty, and raise you two."  He slid half his remaining pile into the pot.
She was beaming now.  She did seem really confident.  "All in," she said, with barely a moment's hesitation.
Her smile widened as he faltered.  Is she bluffing??  He frowned slightly.  I have a pretty good hand, though ...
He stuck to his guns.  "You're gonna regret that," he said, pushing his remaining three dollars and change into the middle.  Then he slapped down his cards.  "Jack-high straight.  Someone had to call your crap."
She laughed even louder.  "Oh, did you think I was bluffing?"  She tossed her cards onto his.  "Full house!  Sorry, pops."  She winked at him as she casually pulled in her winnings – certainly the biggest pot of the evening so far.
He scowled, and ended up focusing his annoyance on her generously-cut top, which really was showing WAYYY too much cleavage, especially with guests over.  And she clearly got lucky with that hand.  And—
"Hey—drink up!" she reminded playfully, pointing to his beer.
He irritably took a sip.
"Hey, you gotta drink the whole beer for that," Ray chided.  "She cleaned you out, man!"
"Don't remind me," Mark grumbled under his breath, as he downed the nearly-full bottle and got up to get himself another.  He sat back down resolutely and slapped another fiver on the table.  "Deal me in – I'm winning my money back."
He was pretty serious about it, but the guys all cheered flippantly.  Camilla still had that annoying grin on her face.  That pretty grin.  Why was she so pretty?  She used to be sorta plain.  But now she's ... I mean ...
He shook that thought out of his head just in time.  Christ, I'm not nearly drunk enough for that!
* * *
Camilla's pile kept slowly growing.  To her credit, it wasn't just because she was making everyone else drunk – she was at least keeping up with the drinking, and then some, perhaps.  She's big, though, Mark thought.  Very big.  Very big, indeed.  He realized too late that he was staring down her shirt again.  Probably the biggest chest I've ever—
He shook his head and looked away.  He was bordering on drunk now.  Well, I wouldn't be, if she didn't keep cleaning me out!!  The other guys at least had occasional success against her – although she never seemed to lose big, always knowing when to fold.  At least sometimes she did lose.  But against Mark, surely by just dumb, horrible chance, she seemed to beat him every time.  It was getting ridiculous.  He'd gone bankrupt a total of four times now, and each time it was from losing to her.  And that damned smile of hers when she beat him – still so pretty, but still really annoying ...
He looked at his few dollars remaining, and at similar stacks among his friends.  They'd all bought in at least a second time by now – Phil a third – but none seemed to mind.  Even though Camilla was sitting over there with almost double what the rest of them had combined; probably close to $50 now.  Never at any previous poker night had one player been so far in the lead.
She was even playing loose with it now, tossing a few extra coins their way here and there, whenever someone beat her or just for the heck of it.  They all found her generosity amusing, and were tickled pink by her increasingly apparent skill in poker, complimenting her endlessly – which she graciously accepted, often with another coin tossed their way for grins.
Well, Mark took no handouts from her.  This is ridiculous! he thought, when she beat him again.  She's not even supposed to be down here!  And – no offense – but she just a freaking girl!!
"Drink up!" she reminded him yet again.
He almost threw the beer in her face.  He didn't, but he was still ticked.  "God ... such beginner's luck!!" he exclaimed.  "Unbelievable!"
"Ha – I'm no beginner, Dad.  I play all the time at college.  I told you I'm good, didn't I?"
"She's clearly got skill, Mark," Phil supported.
Oh, shut up, Phil.
"Thanks, Phil," Camilla praised, patting his back.  She'd done that god knows how many times that night – but nothing compared to with Nestor, though.  Mark swore he saw her hand reach under the table more than a few times; Mark only prayed she was only patting Nestor's leg and nothing more...
"But how are you this good?" Ray chimed in, genuinely curious.
Camilla beamed, as they started the next hand. "It's really about reading your opponent," she explained.  "And picking up on 'tells' doesn't hurt, either."  The others listened and nodded like she was some goddamned poker pro.
Mark rolled his eyes again.  "What 'tells'?" he asked, before eyeing his cards.
Camilla smiled.  "For example, Dad, you wrinkle your nose just a little, when you have a bad hand.  On that note ... you should probably fold, Daddy."
His eyes shot up to hers.  He was supremely annoyed; but she was right.  He irritably tossed his cards into the middle, amidst clapping and praise from the guys.  "Damn, that's impressive!" they complimented.  "I never noticed!"
Mark's face turned red as he sat back and stewed.  "What's my tell?" Nestor asked, beside her.  Christ ... he was looking at her with almost full-on adoration now.
She laughed.  "You have a bunch, hon.  But I'm not gonna tell you."  Her eyes sparkled.  "But I'll tell you one of Phil's, though ..."
"Hey!" Phil protested playfully, as she draped her arm across Nestor's shoulders and whispered in his ear again.
"Really?" Nestor asked, and Camilla nodded and pulled back.  Her arm remained, though.
Mark's face reddened, on multiple accounts.  If only she was under 18 again, then he could forbid her from getting so cozy with his friend.  But now, if he tried to forbid it, it'd probably only push her into Nestor's arms more.  Umm ... or him into her arms.  Did I mention she's big?  Geez, if I were next to her, she could probably drape her arms around me just as easily.  He made the mistake of imagining himself in Nestor's seat, and picturing the remarkable view down her low-cut blouse ...
For God's sake!! he thought, regretting the alcohol even more now.  Grumpily, he refocused himself and at least made sure not to wrinkle his nose anymore.
It still didn't help.  His funds slowly dwindled away – and a few rounds later, he found himself facing off against Phil – and Camilla, again.  He watched her casually throw in a few more $1 chips off her stack, to push them both all-in.  "Oh, no honey," she said kindly, pushing Phil's chips back toward him as he started to call.  "You're chasing a straight, right?  The odds are way against you, sweetie.  Here, I'll refund all your money back if you fold."
"Wow – thanks!" Phil said, happily tossing his cards in and neatening his stack again.
That daft!  He didn't even question it!  Now that it was Mark's turn, he confidently pushed in his remaining chips – but Camilla likewise told him, "Dad, you have just a 13.7% chance that your full house will hit."
He was startled.  "How the hell did you—Ack!  It doesn't matter.  I'm all in."
"But why?" she asked calmly.
"You bought off Phil, hoping I'd fall for it too."
"I really just felt bad," she told him.  "I swear!  Look, I'll make you the same offer, OK?"  She started divvying out what he'd bet in earlier rounds, to return to him free of charge.
"No!" he exclaimed, pushing back and spilling all his chips into the middle.  "All in.  Show 'em."  He revealed his two pair – just as she predicted.
She sighed and showed her ace-high flush.  Ray turned over the river card, but it didn't help him at all.
He slumped back in his chair, annoyed and thoroughly demoralized.  "You ALWAYS have the best cards," he complained.  "It's no fair!"
"No, it only seems that way," Alan chimed in 'helpfully'.
"Yeah, Mark," Phil added, "she just knows when to play and when to fold."
This only made Mark madder.  "Yeah, well, she's lucky too.  She's gotten lucky so many times tonight."
"But that's—"
"She's lucky!" Mark insisted, raising his voice.  "Even if she has some skill, it's still just, like, 30% skill and 70% luck.  I'm sick of it!"
Camilla's jaw tightened.  Frankly, she was getting a little sick of him, too.  I know he's just been laid off, and I guess I should go easy on him, but ... heck, does he always have to think he's better at everything??  He's been like this my whole life.
She let it slide though, and kept doing what she'd been doing – methodically picking them apart.
Before long, Mark had run through all the cash in his wallet - about six buy-ins worth - and found himself with a decent stack but he was facing Camilla yet again. His attempts to find a pattern in her play had failed repeatedly - every time he thought he had her figured out, she did the exact opposite of what he expected. And 4 times out of 5, it worked out for her.
This time, though, he'd slow played it perfectly and didn't let anyone know he was holding a high pair. He showed just enough hesitation on the turn before placing a bet, and on the river he made it look like he had hit big by grinning and raising right away.
He was totally confident ... until he saw his daughter's smile. "Pocket queens?" she asked slyly.  "That, or pocket kings. I'm guessing queens."
The color drained from his face.  He looked around, trying to see who was watching his cards or where the hidden camera was.  He honestly suspected it. But there was nothing.
He realized she was giggling.  Too late to deny it now. "How could you POSSIBLY have known that?" he demanded.
She grinned and explained everything. Mark just shook his head. Damn.  "Well, OK, but that doesn't mean YOU have anything. I think ... um ..."
She excitedly leaned forward – holy crappity smack, that cleavage!!  He actually had trouble focusing now.  "Can you guess?" she taunted. "How's this: if you guess exactly what I have, I'll give you my whole stack."  She spread her hands over the 50-some dollars in front of her.  He was still being a bit of a jerk, so she didn't mind taunting him like this – he kinda deserved it.  "I'll at least give you the pot if you get close..." she added.
Mark opened his mouth, closed it.  His brain thought furiously, trying to find any visual cues or patterns of play that could help him.
In the end, he threw his hands up.  "I have no crappity smacking idea!" he admitted in exasperation, drawing boisterous laughter from his friends.  "You don't play with any pattern.  You're totally random!"
"It's only SUPPOSED to appear random," Ray identified, looking to her with admiration. "That's how the pros play."
Can it, Ray!!  He ignored that and focused on Camilla.  She stared right back, brimming with confidence.  Her easy smile really made it seem like she was in total control. Such a bizarre feeling, considering this was his little girl.  Well, not so little ...
"What'll it be?" she asked, leaning forward more. Somehow, her gaze intensified even further. "Think you got what it takes – hmm??"
He felt like his insides were boiling.  She'd burned him so many times already, always with the upper hand, always in charge.  It was all so confusing – her having the upper hand, always one step ahead, always in control.  And sooo goddamned beautiful!!  Arghh!!!
Mark couldn't take it anymore. He folded his pocket queens in defeat and watched her gleefully rake in the pot, which included over half his remaining chips.
Ray brazenly flipped over Mark's cards.  Mark didn't even bother stopping him.  "Yep, Camilla, you were right!" Ray announced.
She laughed.  "I already knew that."
To her surprise, Nestor did the same with her cards, revealing a 2 and a 7.  She'd had nothing, not even a pair.
"Hey!" Camilla protested, catching Nestor's wrist.  Nestor was the smallest guy at the table and his arm looked pretty puny next to hers.  "Tsk!  Naughty boy!" she teased.  "Drop it."  He did so, and she whispered something in his ear that REALLY set him aflame.  Her left hand disappeared behind his chair, and suddenly he yelped. Did she just slap his bottom?  What the hell!?
The strange moment was broken when Phil looked at the clock. "Oh – shit!  Shit shit SHIT!!!"
"What?" Alan asked.
"I was supposed to be home ten minutes ago."
Alan's eyes widened slightly. He muttered something that sounded like a curse, under his breath.  To Mark's surprise, the other guys looked just as solemn.
Mark shrugged.  "Hell, who cares?  Lynn can wait – we're having boys night!"
Phil remained silent.
"What, did you leave your cajones at the door?" Mark joked.
None of the guys laughed or even smiled.  Camilla broke the silence with a sense of urgency, saying, "We'd better get you home, then.  I'm the soberest here, so I'll drive."
She was barely more sober than Mark or Ray, but she spoke with such authority that no one questioned it. Before Mark could offer his services, Camilla was already standing up and telling Phil, "I've got money in my wallet; I'll cash you out on the way there."  With one quick gesture from her, Phil rose to his feet and followed her to the stairs.
"Wait!" Ray called out.  "I'd better go home too."
"Oh, did Sarah give you a curfew too?" Camilla asked matter-of-factly.
"Um, not precisely, but ... she doesn't like when I'm out too late."
Normally, any of this would lead to endless ribbing and teasing from the other guys – but tonight, for some reason, no one even questioned it. "Come with me, too," Camilla instructed – and Alan complied without hesitation.
Why is everyone treating her like she's in charge here? Mark wondered. This is NOT normal!  And ... curfews!?  What the HELL are they talking about??
"Alan?" Camilla asked next.
Alan shrugged. "I'm OK," he said softly.
"You sure?"  She suddenly frowned. "Wait - you're not planning to walk home, are you?  It's not safe, at this hour."
Oh, brother! Mark groaned. Not this again. There were a couple reports in the news lately about men being supposedly mugged – or raped! – late at night. By women, if you can believe it. Which Mark frankly didn't. They say some women have surprising strength now, and can overpower men 'easily' ... but I'll believe it when I see it.
"He's only a couple blocks away, Camilla," Mark intoned. "And it's a safe neighborhood."
"That's what all the victims have said.  Hmm ... I don't have room in the car for you."  She clucked her tongue. "Wait here."
She went upstairs. Not a one of them - not even Mark - failed to watch her wide, firm caboose as she ascended. After thirty seconds of strange silence, Camilla returned. "Alan – Carly is on her way now to pick you up.  Dad, could you invite her inside for a drink?"
Mark was starting to lose it.  OK, just what the hell is going on??  She's half everyone's age, but giving all the orders – even to me!!  And why on earth couldn't Alan call his wife by himself??
"Dang ... I wanted to stay longer," Alan whispered to himself, glumly. Mark barely overheard. But to Camilla, Alan nodded and said, "OK, thanks Camilla."
What ... the ... HELL!?!
She straightened her shirt by tugging down. All the guys' eyes – yes, even Mark's – widened.  "Alright, boys, head on up," she instructed, pointing to Phil and then Ray.  "Oh – and you, too," she added, pointing to Nestor – who, without being given a reason, stood up right away, eagerly.  Camilla shepherded them up the stairs past her, putting her hand on Phil's and then Ray's shoulder in turn - and then on Nestor's bottom, where it lingered.
Mark understood now, and he groaned unhappily. He'd never be able to think of Nestor the same way again. But again, at her age, he couldn't do anything to stop it.
He looked at how small Nestor was compared to her. He tried not to visualize the two of them ... together ... in Nestor's bedroom.  But it was impossible not to.  He even pictured himself as Nestor again, gaping up at her, as she would inevitably peel off her blouse and—
Fuuuuck ...
Unexpectedly, once the 'boys' were headed up, she turned and walked across the basement, stepping behind Mark.  Is she getting something back there? She--
Large, long arms draped over his shoulders and encircled his chest. They DID seem really big, up close. Holy hell, he thought, as his 'imagining' seemed a lot more real at the moment...
"Sorry to take over your party," she told him sweetly, her cheek brushing against his as she hugged him.  Was it bad that he felt just a little disappointed her chest didn't press into him too?  I've had wayyy too many beers...
"I didn't mean to stay so long," she added.  "Hope you still had fun, though!  I sure did."
Oh no.  His cock had been giving little twitches most of the night, but now it was really waking up.  Just a normal physiological reaction, he told himself, unconvincingly.
"That's... fine," he replied, trying not to shudder. "I had fun too. And thanks for putting all of this together."
Camilla was delighted that her dad wasn't still sulking. She'd worried that taking his money again that last hand would put him in a foul mood. "You bet, Daddy," she said warmly.  Since he seemed to be taking things well, she figured now was as good a time as any to drop some more news.  "Hey," she told him casually, "I forgot to tell you earlier – I got a job today!  It doesn't pay that well, but it's well above minimum wage, at least!  I start next week."
He didn't say anything.  She felt his body stiffen; he seemed unhappy.  Dang, she thought.  I pushed too far.  I'm eager to tell him more about it – it's in sales, sorta ... and he used to be in sales!  I feel like we could really bond over it ... That is, if he doesn't sulk too long about it.  I know he just lost his job and it's a sensitive issue, so ...
She sighed.  There was nothing more to do right now, so she planted a kiss atop his head and said, "Just wanted to let you know.  Love ya."
Mark couldn't stop scowling as she rose up again and walked toward the stairs.  Any other night, he'd probably challenge her on this – Why does she need a job already?  I thought she was taking a few months off to recuperate from college.  She shouldn't be working yet!  But it was yet another in a series of sucker-punches to his ego tonight, and he wasn't quite ready to confront this issue yet.  My head's swimming enough as it is, he thought, as he tried and failed to look away from her large, curvy backside stuffed in those tight pants.
He was a mess now, staring just as naughtily as Alan was, as she walked away.  He wondered how HE would have handled sitting next to her all night – the constant touching, the incredible view...
"Oh, and don't wait up," she told Dad, over her shoulder. He blinked and looked up at her just in time to see her wink.  "But i think you knew that."
He knew she wasn't trying to be sexy – not for him – but the combination of that wink, that suggestive smile, her curvy backside ... the visuals of her overly developed body descending on scrawny little Nestor ...
His dick was raging hard now.  He wished he could make it stop ...
Camilla disappeared up the stairs.  Mark turned to Alan – and at least Mark snapped out of it quicker than his friend.  Alan suddenly blinked and looked at him.  "Sorry," he said.
"For what?" Mark replied, feigning ignorance.
"Nothing."
Mark drank another sip, hastily changing the subject.  "OK," he asked, "what the hell was all that about??  Curfews and such??"
Alan winced.  "It's nothing."
"It's not nothing!"
"Don't ask."
"What?"
"Seriously – don't ask."
"Why not??  You don't think I'll like what I hear?"
They heard a knock upstairs. Alan took another big swig. "That's not why," he said, not looking Mark in the eye.  After another swig, he admitted in a low voice, "I'm not supposed to tell."
Mark did a double take, as his friend - possibly his best friend - got up to leave. Mark's head swam as he trailed Alan to the front door, where his tall wife was waiting.
"Hi, Alan," Carly greeted curtly, patting her husband's shoulder – rather like Camilla had, but not as friendly.  Carly seemed put off with him, probably about some dispute earlier that day, Mark guessed.  Odd, since Alan and his wife almost never fought, in the time Mark had known him.
Mark got a strange chill as Carly lifted her gaze to him.  Something in her demeanor troubled him.  He and Carly usually got along well, but ...
"Hello, Mark," she said blandly, looking a good ways down at him.  He frowned.  She has high heels on – at this hour??  It made Mark feel even smaller and contributed to the odd feeling in his gut.
He gulped without meaning to. "Hi, Carly," he croaked.  "Um ... can I get you a drink?"  He told himself he only asked this out of courtesy - not because Camilla asked him to.
"No, thank you.  We'll be going now."
Alan started to open his mouth and wave a farewell, but his wife was already steering him around and leading him away, not even giving him a chance to say goodbye. Carly is taller than Alan – but surely not stronger than him, right?  At least, they seem to have about the same build and muscle, at a glance.  Why would Alan let her lead him around like that?
This was all so confusing.  Alone now, he went down to finish his beer, then back up to get ready for bed. None of this made any sense at all.
* * *
Camilla noticed Phil's hands fretting nervously in the passenger's seat.  "Don't worry," she consoled, patting his shoulder. "I'll talk to Lynn and explain that it's my fault you're coming home late."
"But—"
"I think she'll listen to me. Just try to relax, honey."
"Yes, Camilla," he replied meekly.
Camilla sighed sympathetically and increased the car's speed. A little faster won't hurt – I'm not sure how forgiving actually his wife is...
She heard Ray and Nestor murmuring to each other in the back seat. "No talking, please," she requested bluntly, making eye contact through the mirror.
They straightened up right away.  "Yes, Camilla," Ray replied.
"Sorry, Camilla," Nestor added.
"It's fine.  I just prefer silence while I drive."
Camilla smiled pleasantly, seeing the four grown men sitting quietly, all with their hands politely folded in their lap.  Ever since she'd switched to a more serious demeanor in the last few minutes, they had all responded beautifully.  None of them had to be told to stop joking anymore, or to listen closely, or any of that.  They simply sensed her change of tone and knew to adapt, without needing coaching.
It was only recently that she'd been privy to some of the inner workings of the new family and social structures that were developing all around them, and she VERY much liked what she'd seen so far.  The new way of doing things made so much sense to her, on a deep, intrinsic level.  She still had much to learn, and she couldn't wait!
When they reached Lynn's house, Camilla was delighted when Lynn granted her request for a private audience, pulling Camilla aside out of her husband's hearing.  And Lynn, despite being twice Camilla's age, seemed to treat her like an equal!  "Yes, Camilla?" she asked warmly.  "What did you want to speak about?"
"I'm entirely to blame for Phil being late. Between encouraging them to keep drinking, to causing distractions, and so on – it's my fault."
Lynn chuckled. "We both know you're NOT entirely to blame – barely at all, really.  But it's sweet of you to say so."
Camilla couldn't help but smile.  She likes Lynn a lot, and admired her greatly.  They'd interacted a few times lately, and Camilla hoped that trend continued.
"Well," Camilla admitted, "all the same, I promised Phil I'd vouch for him."
"Did you, now?  Hahaha!  That's very thoughtful. I can't say it'll actually make a difference – he's an adult, and responsible for his own actions – but if you'd like, I'll tell him you talked me down from a steeper punishment."
"You will?"
"Hell, why not?"
"That's great!  He likes me already, but this could only help."
Lynn sling her arm around Camilla's shoulder and laughed.  "Girl, he ADORES you.  I can see it in his eyes."  Lynn chuckled.  "He's quite taken with you, I think ..."
Camilla grimaced.  "You're not mad?  That he, you know, stares at me quite a bit...?"  She subconsciously pulled up on her neckline, worried that her questions had crossed a line.
But Lynn only laughed.  "He can stare all he wants!  Hell, even flirt with you, for all I care.  I know he'd never actually act on his little impulses.  And I know you certainly wouldn't do anything, either."
"Whew ... that's a relief!  And you're right – I certainly wouldn't!"  She smiled comfortably.  "So, can I ask: what ARE you going to do about your husband's tardiness? I'm just trying to learn how this all works."
"No problem!  I'll most likely just tell him I'll deal with him in the morning.  Make him sweat it out.  Honestly, that's often more effective than the actual punishment.  He'll generally assume it's worse than it actually is.  Ultimately, I'll just assign him some extra chores or revoke his next outing or something."
"Wow, cool!  I never would have thought of making him wait as a form of punishment in itself. I'll remember that."
"Sure.  It could be quite useful on Mark."
"Yeah, it—wait ... WHAT!?!"  Camilla gasped.  "I... I just meant, I'd remember it for when I have a ... a boyfriend someday – not my DAD!  Gosh!  I ... I..."
"You never thought of that?"
"Well, sure, I mean, it crossed my mind ... but I never actually considered it!  I mean, isn't that, like, over the line?"
Lynn just shrugged. She seemed surprisingly non-opposed to it.  "Men are men. You didn't expect him to remain head of the house forever, did you?"
Camilla went pale.  "I assumed he'd eventually find a woman to be with, and SHE'D be the one who ... Oh gosh ..."
Lynn laughed and patted her shoulder again. "Think it over.  You don't have to decide anything yet."
Camilla thanked her profusely but remained incredibly flustered as she headed out. "Bye, Phil," she said, but barely noticed when he did a terrible job of hiding his ogling.  She was too distracted.
The boys were still sitting silently when she got back in the car. For some reason, now, it made her ... wet ... just thinking about them being meek and submissive for her. She was attracted to little Nestor, in a strange, backwards way – I used to prefer tall, strong guys! – but even Ray, whom she wasn't physically attracted to, turned her on now, in his own way. Just the thought of being SUPERIOR to him, and him realizing that too...man, that's hot!!  It's like how I felt when squaring off against Dad in poker, and seeing him realize how helplessly outmatched he was against me ... that look of defeat in his eyes...
A car honked. Camilla swerved back into her lane just before hitting it. "Shit!" she exclaimed, correcting her course and breathing very hard – but not so much from the driving...
Oh God, she realized, I'm turned on by my dad. ... Well, not by HIM directly, just by what I DID to him.
She had no idea how to react to that information. But one look back at Nestor settled her mind. She permitted her hand to rub her crotch just briefly as she pressed the gas pedal and accelerated to borderline dangerous speeds.
"Umm ... C-Camilla?" Ray ventured, appearing nervous.
Camilla shot a glare at him and felt goosebumps when he fell immediately, obediently silent.  SO ... crappity smackING ... HOT!!
They got to Ray's house in no time.  She hardly waited for Ray to close the door as she pulled out of his driveway.  "Where do you live?" she asked Nestor hoarsely.
"W ... White Avenue and Melrose," her little passenger replied, oh so meekly.  He seemed frightened by her behavior as well. Excellent ...
She did a mental calculation - his house was at least five miles away.  I can't last that long.  She screeched the car to a halt on the shoulder.  "Front seat – NOW," she commanded, with fire in her eyes. She'd never seen anyone run so quickly or frightenedly as little Nestor.
As she peeled out, she took his hand and guided it to the button of her jeans. "Don't be afraid," she instructed. "Show me what your hand can do..."
She heard the zipper coming down, then felt his tiny little hand slide past her pubes, finding his target immediately. Good, she thought. He knows his way around.  Good ... good ... HOLY crappity smack, that's good...
She moaned and bucked and kept just enough attention on the road as she drove to his home. Once inside, she ripped his shirt to shreds and gave the soft, slender little man a night he wouldn't soon forget.