★Memorable Author: [Jack Straw] Stories~collected

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Stories in this collection:

TOO TIGHT

TIME FOR A CHILD

BAR JOCK MEETS HIS FOIL

The Leg Man, the Breast Man, and the Ass Man

HUSTLER IN HIGH HEELS

Emancipation of the Old Gym

The Lady Blacksmith

RECOMPENSE FOR RAPISTS

THE RECKONING

Swordswoman!

THE GLOVE MAN




For those who don't know Jack Straw (not the British minister) I can say that he was one of the first and best (and one of my favorites, too) authors on DtV library.  Unfortunately all his works have been removed from the site.  Here I'll post, in time, some stories by him that I discovered on an old archive of mine.

All the credits should go to this very talented and missed (I don't know what happened to him but he stopped writing several years ago) author but I won't mind a bit of K+  for the effort of searching and posting his work.    Enjoy!

The story about him is that he asked Diana to withdraw all his stories because he started to dislike the violence in some of his stories. I know this because I used to have a website where I had a few of his stories and he asked me for the same.

TOO TIGHT
by Jack Straw
inspired by a Barbarian Queen film scene


She was spread-eagled in naked splendor against the cold stone wall.  Chains
bound each wrist and ankle.  A big brute of a man, larger and heavier than
she, was pawing at her bountiful curves, marvelling at the smoothness of her
skin and the incredible firmness of her flesh.  She was so lovely and with
muscles that, even relaxed, rivalled his when flexed.  And the trim, supple
waist expanding to a deep, deep chest from which her large breasts billowed
outward against his own thick, hard, and hairy torso.  He felt her rock hard
buttocks and felt his loins roil with lust.  The combination of her dazzling
beauty and awesome physique was so different from the lumpy, submissive women
he was used to.  He ripped off the loose covering over his stiffly erect
penis.  A little forceful sex would soften up this haughty bitch for the
questioning to follow.

She roused slowly from unconsciousness, wincing from the throbbing pain at the
back of her head. It felt wet and tender; they must have hit her with a club
the size of a tree.  Remembering what had happened, she cursed her
carelessness and thought anxiously about her people.  She focused her eyes
and recoiled from the sight of an ugly brute stripping off the last vestiges
of clothing and exposing an erect member sprouting from a tangle of dirty,
smelly pubic hair.  Seeing that she was awake, he taunted her by swinging his
male tool back and forth as if it were a sword or club.  This show was
intended to scare her, but she almost laughed out loud at his male delusions.
"Some of them think they are gods," she thought derisively.

She had always believed herself physically superior to males and proved it
from an early age.  She had always been forced to beat more than one boy at a
time to prove herself capable of performing at "men's" games.  It thrilled her
to be the victor and as time went on, no matter how big, the male opponent was
humiliated.  As she grew up, tall and strong and very comely, she came to
protect males who showed her respect but still revelled in demolishing those
who didn't.

The unkemp brute facing her ran his hands admiringly along her stupendously
endowed body.  Amazed at the fullness and firmness of her breasts, he nuzzled
his bristly face in the deep cleft between them, breathing in the arousing
scent and marvelling at the luxurious caress of her soft skin against his
leathery cheeks.  Nearly at the point of ejaculation just at being this close
to her, he was caught offguard as she tensed and twisted her torso so that one
of her breasts pressed more forcefully against one of his cheeks while the
other one twisted away.  And then rapidly she rammed this large, heavy, firm
mammary with tremendous force against the whiskered jaw that she had set up by
this maneuver.  The big man was knocked to the floor, momentarily stunned.
Groggily, he clambered to his knees, shook his head to clear his blurred
vision, and wiped the tears that had welled up from the force of her blow.
Sniffling slightly as a result of these tears, he frowned at her contemptuous
sneer and stared bemusedly at those delectable orbs that thrust out so
arousingly from her huge chest.

"You'll just get hurt playing with me—I've got too much for a little boy like
you to handle!" she taunted, twisting her deep, powerful pectorals so as to
cause her outthrust melons to swing firmly back and forth.

He glowered briefly and then laughed at her audacity and gripped her viciously
once again.  But she noted triumphantly that he kept his head bent backwards
away from her prodigious bosom.  Pawing at her body once again brought his
penis to bobbing erection. He rubbed it menacingly along her smooth skin,
gripped her behind her thick, taut thighs, and thrust his member against her
exposed loins.

In disgust she clenched her nether region as he thrusted to enter her.
Despite her predicament, she smiled exultantly as he jammed his prong at her
luxurious bush in perplexed, animated exertion but could not penetrate her
portal of entry.  In fact, his stiff member bent at first like a thick willow
branch and then softened as he became frustrated.

From years of taunting inferior males, she could not resist, "What's the
matter?  Is my gate too strong for your little ram?"

"Loosen up, bitch!" he raged and punched her in the stomach.  But his angry
punch merely bounced off.

"Is that the best you can do?"  she taunted.  "I thought you Randorians were
supposed to be tough.  I guess you must be one of the runts."

Exploding with anger, he put all his strength and body weight behind a second
vicious punch in the same place and then groaned involuntarily in pain as his
wrist crumpled against an impenetrable wall of granite-like muscle.  He stared
at her muscular midsection as if trying to figure out a puzzle.  How could it
be that hard?

"You really aren't much of a man, are you?  Not man enough to handle a real
woman," she taunted and abruptly flexed her torso so that it swelled and
rippled into amazing ridges of muscle and imposing breasts.  She laughed as
his eyes bulged in amazement, completely erasing the imperious bearing with
which he had approached her at first.  She suspected that the wrist he cradled
gingerly was severely sprained.  "Why don't you go out and bully some little
boy," she continued scornfully and then repeated her earlier taunt.  "You're
just going to hurt yourself playing with me."

Again he exploded in anger.  The fist on his good hand smashed into one of her
big breasts.  To his satisfaction this time his fist did sink a bit into her
flesh, although surprisingly little, and he looked in vain for a sign of pain
in her face.  She had been helped by her arousal at humiliating him so far in
a situation in which he held all the advantages he could possibly want.  It
thrilled her sexually and had stiffened her breasts.  Still, despite her stoic
sneer, it had sent searing pain down to her spine.  She decided to change
tactics.

"Look," she said soothingly, "instead of tiring yourself out like this, why
not try to enter me again.  Surely you can't pass up a chance like this.
Admit it, you've never even dreamed of having a woman like me." 

He roared with laughter.  "I don't dream, woman, I ACT."  She was right; he
could not pass up the opportunity to be the first Randorian to have this
haughty female.  He approached her, once again swaggering cockily, drinking in
the magnificent womanflesh splayed out before him.  The rank odor of his
unwashed body repulsed her, but she hid her revulsion.

"It's just that I'm so tense, knowing that we're being watched."  She nodded
toward the heavy door behind him.

He strode over and yanked the door open.  Two of the guards tumbled over each
other onto the dank stone floor.  The one on top scrambled to his feet and
smiled nervously.  "Kind of a tough one, isn't she,"  he joked.  "Did you
perhaps want some help?  Maybe we could push you into her."

Growling with rage, the brutish torturer lifted up the trembling man with his
good arm and, setting him down, cold-cocked him with a thunderous thrust of
the huge fist on his uninjured arm.  The guard fell senseless and unmoving
onto the floor.  The other guard examined his friend and in shocked tones,
said, "You've killed him!" 

"Oh, I doubt it.  Get him out of here and be gone yourself before I send you
both to Hades!" the brute roared.

"My, aren't we the beast," the regal woman said, licking her lips lustfully,
as the huge, muscular man strode back toward her.  He grabbed her and
positioned his swelling penis against the thick bush of hair between her
spread legs. 

"Wait," she said calmly, "this isn't going to work unless we get ourselves a
little moister.  Rinse yourself with that water," she said pointing to a crock
of rainwater that was used to clean up the blood occasionally spattered on the
torturers.  She could not bear the thought of his encrusted member entering
her without at least some cleansing.

Growling slightly, he considered, and then did as she said.  Perhaps it would
help, he thought, remembering his earlier difficulty.

"Go slower, this time," she demanded softly.  "Stroke my body, up and down, so
that I become ready.  Otherwise, that little poker will never make it inside."

"I'll do as I please, wench," he roared drawing back his arm to strike her,
but realizing with a pained start that it was the arm with his damaged wrist
and how it had been damaged, he withdrew it.  Nuzzling his erect member once
again outside her tight slit, he began to do as she said.

She became more and more demanding as he fondled her.  He began to pant with
arousal at exploring the glorious perfection that was her body.  She commanded
where to touch her and how.  "Yes, that's it.  There—higher—harder."  He was
squirming in aching, bobbing erection, nearing explosion without having
entered her.  He launched himself to enter her.  "No, wait, I'm not ready,
yet; you'll just hurt yourself.  Get me more moist.  Run your member along my
leg.  You must get harder." 

Harder?!  He'd never been harder in his life, but he did rub his turgid rod
along her leg and it felt sublime—so smooth, so hard, so deliciously curved
with heavy muscle was that female superlimb.  He lost track of time and space.
He did not realize that he had long since ceded control of the situation to
her and that she was dominating him, despite being bound to the wall.  She was
now aroused at his abasement and by the exacting fondling he was carrying out.

His guided ministrations eventually pushed her over the edge and she came.
"Suck my juices!" she commanded and he did, bringing her to another orgasm.
"Suck it dry!" she directed and he tried but, of course, one cannot dry a
vagina with a salivating mouth.  His member, now dried of the wash water by
the erotic tracing along her skin, was oozing precum. 

"Now!" she commanded, "Enter me now!"
Without thinking, he slavishly complied.  "Deeper!" she demanded huskily.  He
pushed as hard as he could, mashing his testicles in the process.  It
prevented the ejaculation that had welled up inside him.  Suddenly, his
throbbing prong was seized with a grip so tight he thought he must have missed
his target and that, instead, a hand of immense strength was wrenching it in a
pulverizing grip.  He looked down to see what had grabbed him, but he was
clearly in her slit.  She smiled at his confusion.  Without knowing it, he had
sealed his fate by doing the very thing that had become the most important
objective in his miserable life to this point.  He was now hers!  She flexed
all of her muscles to the fullest in order to break herself free from her
shackles.  Her vaginal muscles flexed in synchrony with the rest.

"T-T-Too tight; too TIGHT!  You're squeezing too tight!" the big man wailed.
She exulted in her total supremacy over this disgusting male, having overcome
him by what he would have considered the weakest part of her superanatomy.  It
was symbolic: the essence of maleness being ground to a pulp by the seat of
femininity that was its destiny to seek.  He tried to pull out his trapped
member, to no avail.  "This is not happening," he thought.  Resting
momentarily to redouble his efforts to extricate himself, he allowed his head
to sink into the cleft between her stupendous breasts and deep pectorals.  But
instead of bludgeoning his head with one of her mighty mammaries, she tensed
her pectorals so that her breasts squeezed together against his head.  He was
now enveloped in a fleshy vise that threatened to smother him.  There was
enough slack in the chains that she could press her elbows against her massive
breasts, trapping him more tightly.  The muscles of his thick neck could not
immediately pull his head out.  This was amazing!  A strong male was being
defeated merely by the sexual organs of the woman he had sought to rape.  He
began to realize how utterly physically superior she was. 

In panic and pain, he beat his hands and feet against her steely flesh, merely
hurting his joints in the process.  Hearing her laughter at his impotent
efforts, he finally admitted to himself, "This woman is too much for me; she
is too much for two of me.  What have I done to myself?"  Forcing his hands
between her breasts, with bulging exertion of his huge biceps he managed to
separate her breasts sufficiently to lift his head weakly from this trap.
Only the perspiration of their bodies had saved him; in this preposterous
contest the woman's softest organs had overmatched the male's arm, shoulder,
and neck muscles so that he was limp with exhaustion and drenched with
perspiration. Hence, he was only dimly aware of the squeaking of the chains
that had bound her, as she inexorably pulled the thick metal apart.  Looking
up, he saw the monstrous bulging of her vein-filled, ultra-striated biceps as
they triumphantly overcame the manmade links of heavy metal.  Glancing down,
he saw her even more monstrously flexed thighs impelling her legs upward
toward his midsection, having ripped her ankles from the shackles that were
flying in pieces across the room. 

Now a blubbering wreck, the bullying brute trembled and tears of terror
streamed down his face.  With her limbs free, he knew his life was at an end.
Too late, he was able to extricate his limp, deformed penis from her womb and
wet himself in his utter fright.

Clamping his jaws in a pulverizing grip to prevent his screams from warning
her other captors, she placed her other hand between his legs.  "I'll not give
you the death you now crave, WORM,"  she hissed. "You will be a miserable
example of the inferiority of your sex.  An example of what happens when you
try to force yourself on a woman instead of begging to please her!"  Flexing
mightily, she bent the big man backwards over her knee until he was folded in
half.  Sounds of his splintered ribs and broken back filled the room.  She
knew from having done this once before unintentionally that he had lost
feeling below the waist, and was in shock at the lost sensation.  If he lived,
in the coming days he would find out that his male appendage was irreparably
out of commision; he had been neutered by a woman. 

He wanted to scream but no sound came out and then he gagged as she stuffed
his putrid loin cloth into his mouth and bound it in place.  Smugly, with her
hands on her hips, she flaunted her gloriously naked body, swelling her
magnificent chest as she flexed her awesome biceps.  Expecting her to rend his
once-proud body in half and knowing she could, he stared with panic-stricken
eyes so wide and bulged out that it seemed they wanted to take flight and pull
the rest of his body along with them.  Slowly she raised one arm and tensed it
so that the already terrifying girth expanded and rippled in feminine ridges
of almighty muscle.  His face seemed to burst in terror and he swooned dead
away. 

Stifling the triumphant laugh that welled up inside her, she silently strode
from the room without bothering to cover herself.  After all, what better
weapon against the weaker sex than her nude physique?  Whether the
confrontation was sexual or physical, the men would be mush.

The End

More shall follow soon.

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Here another one, split in two parts.

TIME FOR A CHILD   by Jack Straw first part

She looked out on what had been her domain for the past six moons.  Soon it
would be time for the reunion that renewed their clan loyalty and signalled
their final passage toward womanhood.  For she was among the young women
selected to find mates outside the clan.  Every year a number of girls having
attained their eighteenth cycle of seasons were chosen.  They were the
strongest, had the best survival skills, and, of course, they had to desire
men and be attractive to them.

Before embarking on the quest, however, they had to live by themselves for
three moons.  Partly this first phase was to select those who the ancients
thought had the right mettle; partly it was to engage in the meditation that
solitude forced upon them.  Many could not withstand the solitude, the
insecurity of being alone.  They returned and served the clan in other ways
but without the honored status in the clan that had been reserved for them.
The others were not to return to the clan for good until they had mated
successfully.  They could bring their mates or not, as they chose.  Many did
not and the mates of others often left soon after arriving, never to return.
Thus, the male sex at all ages was in the minority.  Why they were in the
minority among the children it had not occurred to her to question for a long
time, and when she knew the answer, she puzzled over it for a long time
without resolving it.  Why the leaders were all women was obvious; though the
brothers did their best, there were always females who were better at
everything.

Yes, she was one of the chosen.  But not just because she was the strongest,
the fastest, the least vincible.  It must be said that this rite also allowed
the clan to rid itself of the most rebellious at that most rebellious of ages.
Some returned; some never did.  She had left intending to leave civilization
and its restrictions forever.  She had not returned for the first reunion, and
the civilization of the One True Way daily receded further from her thoughts,
despite a visit from her dearest mentor.  They had sat in silent communion for
several days and then the elder friend returned to the clan.  She no longer
felt the anger of her former days, the impatience with the strictures of her
people.  But by no means was she ready to return.

She loved this life:  to test her body daily, to be part of and yet master of
nature, to vanquish the fiercest of predators for food when she needed it.
She could even outrun most of the animals, and those that were faster in short
distances she beat with her stamina.  Every day she got faster, stronger.
Yes, she had enjoyed her life alone, but she was becoming restless.  Something
was missing.  Not the society of her clan; she still despised that.  But
something.  And she thought she knew what it was.  It was an aching in the
night, sometimes almost a feverish need.

From her unseen perch she could see the herd and the poaching men who stalked
it.  It was a herd she managed in order that the animal predators she preyed
on had sufficient food.  She managed well; the men managed poorly.  That was
why they poached. 

Should she drive out these men like she had the others?  Perhaps she would
keep one of them a while.  She wanted to couple with a man, perhaps to have
that child, although she knew her elders would be displeased if they knew.
She had not had the Instructions yet; they had not shown her the sacred map,
her destination, the rules of her quest.  Her soul had not been Purified.  No,
if she had a child, it would be hers to nurture alone, for she would not have
done things in the One True Way.

These men were young and tall; they looked vigorous, compared with others she
had seen here.  They must be from a different clan; they were taller,
stronger, and -- more handsome!  Of course they were also a little dirty,
unkempt, and smelly, but she could change that.  One of them might father her
child.  She stepped out into the small clearing where they crouched, hidden
from the herd.

The men were startled.  She was one of the Witch Women!   From the stories of
these women, they would have expected anything from a hag resembling the
gnarled trunk of an old cedar tree to a virago in the guise of a mad
rhinoceros.  What they beheld was gleaming perfection!  Such a magnificent
creature -- she had cast off the loose fur garment from her torso in
anticipation of the coming battle, and now, clad only in sun-bronzed perfect
skin and a loin cloth made of soft colorful animal skin, she was a vision of
primeval beauty, graceful in bearing and powerful in constitution.  The
perfection of her skin was marred in some places by the scars left by fights
with lions and wolves, but it only enhanced the vitality of her physique.  In
her presence the men felt clumsy and sexually aroused. 

Men never ventured alone into this region because of the stories about such
women.  Even pairs of men sometimes didn't return.  They had expected a
creature seven feet tall, but she was no taller than they.  Still she looked
formidable, a hunter, and, if need be, a warrior like they.  Strong,
obviously, and so alluring: cleaner, brighter, healthier, and more voluptuous
than their women.  They fought their male impulses; these women were sirens --
they could kill with desire, as well as spears, so the legends went.  But the
stories also said that they always hunted alone.  Hence, emboldened by
numbers, they followed the incitement of their hormones and made up their
minds to have her, to take her back with them -- a trophy that would seal
their place in legends of the future.  They were not so bold as to attack
singly, but stalked her as they would a lioness, attempting to outflank her,
spears held high. 

She was probably the one that men from the neighboring clan had begun telling
about in recent suns.  She would chase them down, no matter the distance or
their numbers, seize them, and crush them, and deposit their broken bodies far
away.  But, though the man might never recover completely, she never killed.

For a few moments she let them draw closer, calmly, contemptuously
unconcerned.  But they had never seen the speed of the trained female and
within the blink of an eye, she attacked.  Spears and males went flying.  They
had been too confident, too unprepared, too sexually aroused, their pricks
practically hanging out of their loose clothes.  She too had been aroused.
Why, she wondered:  lust or battle lust?  Her ample areolae were puffy and
nipples steely-hard with desire, but if lust, it only seemed to give her even
more energy.  Within seconds one male was suffocating, with his face in the
vice of her clamped legs, while the other two were thrashing against each
other, their heads mashed in the cloying space between each magnificent breast
and moist underarm, surprisingly unable to escape the iron-hard grip that
painfully constricted their heads.  When the first fellow went limp between
her legs, she agilely brought her legs up to trap one of the other combatants
and shifted his face from moist underarm to warm cleft between her legs.  The
other one found his face now trapped between her ample, solid breasts as she
hugged his head tightly with her suddenly bulging biceps.  Though they
struggled and grappled, sometimes breaking free of a hold, they never quite
escaped her grasp.  She was heartened by their spirit; they did not give up.
But, after a protracted struggle, in the end three once proud males lay limp
in the afternoon sun.

She could not decide which to take back.  She would take them all.  They would
be the first men with whom she had coupled, although unknown to her elders she
had sampled some of the boys her same age in the clan.

One of them revived to find himself being bathed in a pool of warm water by
the mighty woman.  The warm touch of her and the feel of her firm, supple,
ample curves excited him to a throbbing erection.  She deposited him on a
nearby skin and had her way with him.  At first fearful, he fought, but soon
gave up--it seemed fruitless and, besides, she had him dizzy with arousal.
Sex with this creature was like no other pleasure he had known, let her kill
him with desire!

The other two men found themselves in a deep pit inside a cave.  They could
hear the sounds of lust above them, and one was boosted up by the other to see
his friend, alternately moaning with pain and desire, being ravaged by this
strange, alluring woman.  Looking for a means to escape or sneak up on the
woman from behind, the man peering from the edge of the pit tried to pull
himself up, but the rock was extremely slippery and he fell in a heap onto his
comrade at the bottom. 

The mighty young woman had seen and heard this and chuckled as she reached
climax, draining the man's seed and squeezing his spasming prick in a vice-
like vaginal grip that caused him to moan loudly as she continued to squeeze
and then stretch his member, in frustration that its now limp flesh afforded
her no further pleasure.  Soon his abused member was puffy and, alas, of no
use to her.  She had been wise to bring them all, she thought.  She wanted
another.  This first one soon found himself sliding down the sides of the pit.

One of the other men instinctively stood up and was startled to find himself
being lifted up by the unsatiated virago.  She merely had braced her legs
around a stone pillar near the edge, bent down over the slick sides of the
pit, and in a prodigious display of abdominal and arm strength, launched him
up with one arm as she snapped her torso upward.

As he stumbled to his feet from where he had landed, he massaged the wrist
that he feared she had crushed and crouched in a wrestling stance to defend
himself.  She mimicked his movements and her eyes lit in merriment.  This
would be fun!  She loved to wrestle.  But it was not much of a match, though
out of fear and anger, he gave it furious effort.  He simply didn't have the
skill or strength of her sisters.  She laughed when he rushed headlong into
her gut and bounced off as if he had bumped a tree, jamming his neck against
her rock-hard muscles.  Then he threw a punch in the same place and that
resulted in his second sprained wrist.  He was being pulverized, and she still
hadn't moved!  Out of frustration he launched a kick in the same area, which
she still absorbed impassively, puzzled at his strange tactics.  Limping
badly, he backed away.  Only then did she begin to stalk him.  After lifting
him high over head and slamming him over her knee a couple of times, she found
him very docile.  Disappointed that the fight was over so soon, she proceeded
to bathe him in the pool, and let their sexual libidos take over.

Her enthusiasm about the sex act was infectious; it was a welcome change from
the dull submission of the women of his tribe.  But she was too enthusiastic;
she overwhelmed him with her vitality.  He found her touch soft, gentle, and
sexually thrilling.  But once he was aroused, she became wild with lust.  It
was rougher than the wrestling match.  He was flung to and fro like a rag
doll, crushed and bruised.  Still, the unmatched thrill of contact with her
lush, firm, perfectly formed body and the furnace heat of her passion kept him
constantly on the edge of eruption as she extracted her own pleasure and flung
him about.  When he did come though, it was a tumult that almost seemed to rip
him in two; he had never been wound so tight with passion.  But the moment was
soon lost as she clamped his face between her dewy breasts in the frenzy of
prolonging her lust.  It felt as if his vitality, so puny compared with hers,
was being sucked out completely with his seed, as she wrung him dry and
massaged her tingling breasts with his face.  The violence of her passion
terrorized the simple man; he was certain that she was a demon, a witch, the
stuff of nightmares and legend.  Another limp male was returned to the pit.

Still not satiated, she leaped into the pit herself and lifted out the
startled third man, who was only too happy to escape.  Though he had a long
head start while she managed to climb out of the pit, she soon caught him.
After he caught his breath while she carried him back to the cave, he amused
her by trying to squeeze her in a bear hug.  She demoralized him by expanding
her chest so that his hands slipped apart and then let him try again.  As he
clamped her again she merely lifted him in the air and deposited him on the
ground, where, unaffected by his best efforts, she teased him by tickling and
suckling, gently massaging him to turgid erection.  Just as he succumbed to
passion, however, he was tossed into the pool.  His angry struggles only
served to amuse her and once again inflame her flagging desires.  Not so
urgent this time, she prolonged the tryst long into the evening, but in the
end another spent male joined the heap.

After first bout of sex with her, they had each collapsed in exhaustion,
completely spent sexually and physically, not to mention, bruised and sore.
Disappointed that they could not serve her further, but sufficiently satiated,
she decided to let them recuperate with a good night's sleep.

She knew about sex, but nobody had prepared her for how fragile men were.  She
had supposed that the weakness of the men she had been with before was an
aberration, but now she saw that she would have to be more gentle.  They wore
out so easily and their organs became so squishy.  Still, they could be cute,
once the grime was removed.  She just wished they were a little tougher and
more full of spark.

Night had fallen and she built a fire.  She lifted the men out of the pit and
fed them.  It was delicious and they were famished.  The mixture of meat and
herbs cooked in her strange way over the fire was far better than what they
were used to.  Perhaps it would make them as strong as she!  The men were
humiliated that she showed no fear, no concern that they would escape or
attack.

As the half moon rose, she easily shoved a huge boulder across the mouth of
cave, leaped six feet in the air to grasp a ledge, and pulled herself up
effortlessly to her bed of furs.  She lay down to sleep.  [continue...]

[elgat]

"TIME FOR A CHILD" by Jack Straw, last part
[... continued]

In dim light from the embers of the fire and from moonlight penetrating softly
through cracks somewhere, the men find that they are trapped.  There were
sheer walls all around and the boulder across the mouth of the cave.

There was only room for one to get the proper angle to budge the boulder.  The
largest and strongest of the three tried to move it. He seemed to have it
started when...sweating profusely and groaning in mighty effort, his foot
slipped.  The boulder careened back toward him and, in his frenzy to stop it,
he overextended his muscles, tearing his hamstring, dislocating his knee, and
ripping his groin muscles.  He slumped in agony from the searing pain.

She had been watching and rose from the bed, laughed loudly in musical mocking
tones that echoed throughout the cave, flexed her arms and mighty chest in
silent statement of her superior strength.  Then she rubbed her loins with one
hand while flexing the other arm to signify the superior strength in her
nether region as well, as she gestured merrily at the pathetic man clutching
his groin and writhing on the hard ground.  Compassion was a virtue she still
had not mastered, especially where men were concerned.

She leaped to the ground and sauntering past the scampering comrades of the
fallen champion, she squatted in front of boulder and before their
disbelieving gazes, slowly lifted it waist high.  Muscles all over her body
exploded into mountainous relief.  Then triumphantly, she set it back down.
She faced them, her imposing chest heaving and perspiring slightly, all her
muscles bulging, beautifully, yet intimidatingly. 

She loved to lift things.  It was a daily exercise for her.  She had found
that every quarter moon she could lift larger and larger boulders, more and
more times.  It was fun to lift, some with one hand toward her expanding
chest, others overhead repeatedly until she was perspiring and breathing
heavily.  And always more and more, and heavier and heavier.  She marvelled
that the more she did, the stronger she got. She would gaze at herself in
pools and flex her naked muscles.  It was fun to make her large, firm breasts
dance.  During these narcissistic reveries she would begin massaging herself
and feel the delicious heat in her loins.  She had to be careful though, it
made her dizzy and weak for a while.  Her sisters among the people of the One
True Way had always marvelled at her strength and prowess in the games.  She
always won.  She shared her secrets but still the others could not match her.

Exulting in her strength in front of these men, she strode to a somewhat
smaller boulder and slowly lifted it over her head, staring smugly at the
stupefied expressions on the men's faces.  After gently lowering it, she ran
her hands over her  feminine curves and pumped-up muscles, emphasizing her
perfection and the men's inferiority.  The men involuntarily became erect at
the beauty and power of this spectacle.  She laughed and sprang back to her
bed.
     
Worried about what morning may bring, the two healthy men devised a plan.
When they heard her slumberous breathing, one seized her spear and the other
boosted him onto his shoulders.  Still it was not high enough.  Together they
managed, with groans of effort, heavy breathing, and several stops, to carry
over the boulder she had hefted easily over her head.  After waiting again for
the sounds of her sleeping, they attempted to scale her tower again, and now
the top one could just see over the ledge, wobbling with the effort of holding
the heavy spear.

Meanwhile, she had heard their ragged breathing and scraping movements.  (They
were too stupid, she decided; she must massage herself tomorrow with the
special root to make sure no child came from the couplings.)  As the man
reached back to plunge the spear into the mighty woman, he realized she was
not there and heard her powerful laughter at his left side.  Through a
sidelong glance he saw her mighty profile, arms akimbo, unconcerned lovely
face filled with mirth.  And as she raised her arm to stifle laughter, the
flexing of muscle so startled him that he slipped backward slightly.  Quick as
a panther, she saved him from serious injury by latching onto his outstretched
hand.  With that single arm she lifted him into the air and then gently
planted him on the soft bed.  Realizing that it might be a long while until
the next man, she decided to have him serve her anew.

It was pleasurable and then not pleasurable once again to the overmatched man.
Though he came once, he was forced to try again and forcefully his face was
used to massage her delicious body, stem to stern and back again; her
wrenching orgasms overwhelmed him, bruising him and robbing him of breath. 

Frantically the healthy man below searched for escape and weapons, but found
only the spear his partner had dropped.  When he heard her scream in ecstacy
and the muffled groan of his friend, he shivered in panic.  Turning at a soft
thud beside him, he found her grinning in his face.  As he struck with the
spear she grasped it in the middle with one hand and toyed delightedly with
him.  Still holding the spear in one hand she forced him against the wall of
cave and, flexing mightily, forced the spear crosswise toward his throat.
Both his hands trembled with effort as he unsuccessfully struggled to stop the
steady progress of the spear as she calmly continued pressing with only the
single arm, which was now bulging into horrifying ridges of rock-hard man-
taming muscles. 

He slipped down so that he could push up on the spear with his feet and,
though it stretched his frail ball-sacks, managed to slip his feet under the
spear.  This he could do because she flaunted her strength by raising him and
the spear into the air, instead of following him to the ground, causing the
peaks of arm, shoulder, and pectoral muscles to ripple and expand even
further.  She pressed him back against the wall and leaned toward him, still
grasping with only one hand.  He now was wadded up and suspended above the
ground, his strong back braced against the wall, and both his arms and legs
swelling with supreme effort against the mighty arm of his captor. 

She relished this challenge, the first time she had been able to devise a
near-equal contest with these pathetically inferior men.  Her arm trembled
with effort, veins filling with blood and etching the smooth surface of her
femininely supple skin now stretched with exploding ridges of muscle.  Sweat
bathed her underarms and large heaving breasts, outthrust by ever-expanding
pectoral muscles, and dripped off her nipples, erect from battle-lust.  The
semen and her own come-juices from her sexual conquests coursed in rivulets
down the glistening surfaces of her smooth and magnificently muscled legs.
Alas, even this was not an equal contest; the spear pressed onto his Adam's
apple. Gurgling in frantic effort to breathe and sensing his impending death,
he sobbed and urinated in terror.  Saddened and almost nauseated by this
pathetic spectacle, she lowered him gently to the ground as he lost
consciousness.

Morning came and the men find themselves naked, nestled in a warm thicket far
from the cave.  Having found them unworthy, she harmed them no further, and
her feminine instincts of kindness and pity took over. 

She knew that she could not wait for the right man to wander into her lair.
She would have to venture out into the unknown world. She was more convinced
than ever that, though she loved the life she led, something was missing.  But
after her trysts of the day and night before, she was much less certain for
what she searched.  She suspected only that it would not be easy to find.  And
so her quest began as she drew her best bearskin around her and strode off
toward the early morning sun. [The End]

[elgat]

Another one here, enjoy  .

BAR JOCK MEETS HIS FOIL by Jack Straw

Rob scanned the dimly lit bar in what he considered a most
masterful manner. He always felt on display, sure that his good
looks and big athletic body attracted attention. At 6'2" and 250
lbs of solid muscle, he was hard to miss. At the end of the bar
sat what he decided would be his conquest for the night. She was
very well-built, with huge tits and cleavage prominently exposed.
Her arms and (very?!) broad shoulders were hidden by a loose-
fitting open jacket, but her long, muscular legs, which ended in
white sexy spike-heeled sandals, were deliciously revealed below
her short skirt. As he approached, he noted the deep tan that
set off those beautiful legs and her imposing bust.

He settled into the empty seat next to her and struck up a
conversation. He was pleased that she seemed so taken by him. As
usual, he took the lead; most of the conversation was about him.
He learned only her name, Karen, and that she was new in town.
She seemed impressed with him and his physique. They talked about
his athletic prowess: he had been a well-known linebacker in
college and still kept in shape. Sometimes she steered the
conversation into intellectual areas that were beyond his ken,
but he brought things back to his life, his work, and athletics.
Once she asked him about his view of women in sports. At first
he was evasive, hoping not to offend, but she gradually drew out
his true opinion, that he was all for women keeping fit (as Karen
obviously was) but the woman athlete was hopelessly behind the
male athlete. Women just didn't have the genes, the muscle mass.
Instead of being offended, she seemed to draw closer,
surreptitiously feeling his biceps and rubbing her legs against
his all the way up to his crotch. Her eyes glowed (worshipfully,
he thought) and almost seemed to undress him in appreciative
appraisal of his body. He was anxious to leave and move things
along.

She invited him to her place, and as they got up to leave,
he was surprised to find her eyes a little above the level of
his. In her high, high heels she seemed a little taller than he.
It was a little unsettling; he always enjoyed being able to look
downward at women. It was a symbolic thing for him. He forgot
about this "defect" as he followed her out the door, though.
What a body! And did she ever know how to move it in the right
ways. Trailing her in his car, as she drove to her place, he
congratulated himself on such a find. This would be a night
remember!

At her place she seemed even more animated, which at first
made her even more desirable in his eyes. Fairly devouring him
with her eyes, she asked huskily how he kept in such good shape.

"Well, I've always been active and strong. And I've been
pumping a lot of weight for a few years now."

Seated next to him on the couch, she started to unbutton his
shirt, and kissed him lightly on the neck. He was a little
miffed that she was being the aggressor but the smoldering look
of unabashed lust on her face melted his resistance. Soon his
muscular arms, shoulders, and hairy torso were bare and she was
caressing, admiring, and hotly kissing his naked skin. Close to
writhing in suppressed arousal, he sought to return her kisses
and get on top of her. But somehow she remained on top and bent
his head so that his kisses brushed against the exposed tops of
her prodigious boobs. His male ego demanded that he not let her
control this foreplay so completely, but as he exerted himself
further, they tumbled off the couch with her still on top. She
giggled at his surprised, frustrated look. He was flat on his
back with her astride his midsection.

"Are you one of those guys that just have to be on top?
Well, I'm one of those gals that won't let you. I love your
muscles, Rob, but you're not nearly as strong as I am. If I feel
like being on top, there's nothing you can do about it," Karen
taunted, tweaking his nose playfully.

"What!" he sputtered, and then he grinned. "Oh, I get it.
You're the type who gets turned on by a little tussle. Is that
it? Well, look out!" And with that he strained to unseat her and
rise from the floor.

But instead she grasped his hands and slowly pressed them to
the floor behind his head as she slid upward toward his face.
She twined her legs around his midsection and squeezed. Not only
could he not unseat her, the grip of her hands and legs was
becoming painful! A few minutes more of intense effort to muscle
her off only succeeded in making him hot, sweaty, and exhausted.

Managing a sheepish grin, he admitted, "All right, you've
got me. You win this round. Let me up."

"Not so fast! I'm enjoying this." She moved upward so that
her knees bore into his biceps and removed the jacket that had
covered her arms and shoulders. He was stunned. This lady had
muscles! Big ones! She flexed them tauntingly. Huge muscles!
They were an affront to his ego, his narrow concept of the sexes,
and hence a source of anxiety. But somehow on her they seemed
erotic, as beautiful as the rest of her. She smiled knowingly at
the mixture of emotions clearly painted on his face. He was
challenged and turned on at the same time! It was going to be
fun tussling with this creature and subduing her.

"Admit it. WOMEN ARE STRONGER! I'm still on top. My
muscles are bigger and harder than yours. Feel!" she commanded
and lifted one of his hands to one of her flexed biceps. It was
big! Even his large hands didn't begin to capture its girth.
And hard! He couldn't dent the iron-like solidity and, as he
tried, she flexed harder and ridges of muscle rose up even
higher.

"I'm stronger and my muscles are bigger and I haven't been
lifting weights nearly as long as you. Women must be stronger!"
"Look, lady," he said as he suddenly twisted his body and
unseated her, "you haven't proven that you're stronger than I am
yet. That was just a warm up."

"How much proof do you need? Look at your soft, little arms
and then look at mine. Look at my legs and then think about
yours. But leg-wrestling would be no contest. Okay, you think
you're stronger, let's arm wrestle. You won't last a minute."

What had started out as a nice bit of foreplay was turning
into a battle of the sexes and Rob was getting more and more
irritated. But just the same he wanted to put her in her place.
She had been on top in that little love tussle or whatever it
was. He HAD to redeem his pride and belief in male superiority.

So, feeling a little silly, he squared off across a table
from her. They each put up their arms, and even with his
egocentric myopia he had to admit that hers looked almost as big
as his. He also couldn't help staring at her huge bust proudly
protruding toward him across the table. She yelled, "Go!" and he
grimaced in effort, expecting to feel her arm giving way. But it
didn't. He rose slightly in his seat. Still her arm didn't
budge.

"Is that your best, wimp?" he heard her taunt and opening
his eyes, which he had closed in his struggle, he saw that she
was not straining at all. "Now compare your little MALE arm with
mine as I put you away." With that he felt his hand crunch in
her vicelike grip, and he gaped as her biceps swelled up much
larger and harder than his. He groaned with futile exertion as
she forced his arm inexorably to the table.

After defeating him more quickly with the other arm, she
rose, hands on hips, "Now do you admit that WOMEN ARE SUPERIOR to
men. You must at least admit that I am stronger than you!"
"Well, okay, you're better at arm wrestling, but that's only
one kind of strength."

"You're pathetic, but you'll learn. You'll learn," she said
ominously as she disappeared into her bedroom.

As he was massaging his strained arm muscles, she returned
in a sexy white bikini and high heels. What a turn on! The
stretch bikini was so minuscule as to almost not exist. With
each breath the flare of her torso, as it expanded outward from
her iron-hard waist, threatened to burst the straining bikini
top. From the lovely crown of her head to her high-heeled shoes
she was a supreme specimen of femininity, smoothly voluptuous but
powerful, granite-like muscles layered on top of muscles!

"Okay, how about a contest to see who gets to be on top in
there," she pointed toward the bedroom. Now they were back on
the right track, he thought. "The first one to strip the others'
clothes off will be on top. Not that it matters, since the
stronger one, I, would do what I want anyway. Am I giving you
enough handicap, or should I strip off this top too?"

"No, lady, I'll do that," he hooted as he dove for her. He
was still clothed in tight-fitting sturdy pants, while both the
top and bottom of her sexy bikini were tied with delicate
bowknots that could be loosened with one hand. And no matter how
strong she looked, he was sure he outweighed her by 50 to 100
pounds.

Yet as it turned out, he never got close to touching either
enticing knot on her bikini. It was a one-sided humiliating
onslaught as she ripped off his pants. Once he was down to his
underwear, she evened the odds by removing her top: She merely
took a deep breath and the expansion of her immense chest
exploded the delicate garment apart and exposed her enticing, but
imposing globes in all their glory.

He lost the ensuing brief struggle and suffered the
indignity of being forcefully denuded as she shredded his briefs.

Still he refused to admit the inferiority of his sex, as he
confidently noted the way she licked her lips and eyed his ample
male appendage. He knew that it was extraordinarily large, and
felt that now at last he had an advantage in this duel that so
far had been a complete victory for her and her sex. "I admit
that I have not represented my sex well so far, but in making
love, the cock rules the roost."

She laughed uproariously. "So you think the cock always
conquers?" "Sure it invades."

"Well, with me, it is surrounded and then gives up. Always.
The cock is inferior; the balls are even more pathetic. Ready for
proof?"

She hugged him closely, melding their hot naked bodies
together. He was rigid (and in his mind HUGE) with desire.
Just as he thought that other women worshipped him for the
immensity of his member, he was sure that she must be fascinated
and fearful at its size. She would be begging for mercy soon.
Yet she seemed unconcerned as, still standing, she ceremoniously
loosened her bikini bottom and, as the sexy fabric fluttered to
the floor, she fed his member to the very hilt into her warm,
moist love channel. Waves of delicious massaging ministrations
washed over his cock and he felt it engorge further. In his mind
it was a montrous hot poker whose steely immensity must be
painful to her; soon she would have to yield control he thought,
frustrated that he was not yet controlling the action. She had
him in a tight embrace that trapped his arms as she gripped each
of his buttocks and thrust him against her so forcefully that his
balls were being mashed. Still it felt so wonderful that he was
near explosion. Through half-closed lust-laden eyes he was
surprised to find her lovely eyes open, scrutinizing his state
with mocking amusement.

"Still feel that the true role of the cock is to invade? Or
is it to be enveloped in the female love lock? Have you ever
felt so aroused? You're not even pumping; I'm doing it all,
lover, and you love it. This is how it can be for the man who
admits his true place under a woman. Another few seconds and I
could force you to cum. But let me show you just how inferior
you are."

Suddenly, he felt her cunt muscles contract with amazing,
PAINFUL force. She had him backed against the wall or he would
have collapsed from the sudden weakness in his knees. It felt
like his member was being pulverized. He was trapped by his
lustful state and the almighty strength of her love muscles. She
withdrew her hands and arms and placed them on her hips. Now the
only grip she had on him was with her cunt, although her
abdominal, hip, and thigh muscles were clenched in cabled relief.
He tried to extricate his swollen prick first by merely backing
up and then by pushing with all his might against her nether
region. Yet his efforts only seemed to be tearing his member
from his body. In his anxiety he began to lose the erection and
the now rubbery appendage began to stretch as it deflated
further. Still, the head remained trapped in her obviously very
muscular orifice, and despite pulling hard enough that his cock
stretched further and further, he could not remove it. And the
grip was agonizing.

"Please, please let out. I think you're ruining me," he
begged.

"Admit that your male twig is weaker than the superior
female organ. Come on, SAY IT!"

"I admit it, I admit it! The cunt is stronger than the
cock! Let me go!"

She relaxed and the rubbery male organ slipped out with a
loud snap. He fell in terror and looked at his deformed member,
limp as spaghetti and stretched sickeningly. "What have you done
to me? I'm ruined!"

"Oh, poor baby! Did the big, bad woman hurt the big man's
itty bitty dingus?" she mocked him. "You big baby! It's not
ruined. It will still work well enough to please me if I let
you."

She hugged him roughly to her body and kissed him roughly, a
long cloying kiss. She ran her hands over his body and gently
stroked his cock and balls. His stretched, limp member engorged
with blood. Struggling to catch his breath when she released
him, he realized that he had a full-blown erection once again.
"See," she giggled, running her finger lightly up his member,
"you're not ruined, just overmatched." Placing her hands tightly
at his waist, she lifted him so that his feet barely touched the
floor and ran his turgid member across her iron-hard belly. The
organ that he always thought of being so hard seemed soft when
forced against her steely female body. Flexing her arm,
shoulder, and chest muscles awesomely, she lifted him further
until his cock touched her delightfully firm breasts and her
erect nipples. She pressed him into her so that her breasts bore
into his lower abdomen and enveloped his cock. Looking down, he
was surprised to see that what he considered to be a monstrous
cock was completely hidden by her prodigious mammaries. It was
dimly seeping into the dull recesses of his brain that he was
puny in every way except for height compared to this magnificent
creature who was holding him so effortlessly. For the first time
he objectively viewed her feminine musculature. In fascination
he felt the mountainous ridges of her biceps and the steely
density terrorized but also aroused him further. She felt his
response and smiled exultantly. Although his abdomen felt
crushed by the suddenly not so delightful breasts that were much
harder than he expected and so large that his internal organs
were being rearranged, the pressure of her immense chest on his
member was arousing him further. The surfaces of her breasts
were just soft enough and moist enough from her perspiration and
hot enough that it felt wonderful. She began to stroke his member
in her voluptuous cleft by lifting him bodily up and down. Her
mountainous arm muscles bulged out even further. Nearing
eruption, he felt her change her grip and swing her breasts from
side to side upon his sensitive organ. Each blow ripped at the
roots of his cock; yet still the cum welled up inside until the
balls contracted and the cock began to bob in ejaculation. At
that moment the mighty woman placed one hand under his balls and
the other hand pulled down on his head. As he screamed from the
pain on his flattened testicles, he spurted into his face.

She released him and laughed at his pathetic condition, as
he slid limply down along the wall. "See, it still works. But
just like the rest of you it's too weak to do it right without my
help." "But I promised to abuse your testicles with my anatomy,
too, didn't I?"

In panic he tried to squirm away but she gripped his legs at
the thighs just above the knees and lifted them easily high over
her head. Despite his violent struggling she maintained him
upside down and thrust one of her gigantic boobs against his
balls. As she took a deep breath the hard breasts thrust out
even further, squashing his soft testicles against the wall. She
burrowed into him in this way with first one boob and then the
other. Now completely unmanned, he blubbered mindlessly this
time when she demanded that he admit his utter inferiority in
EVERY respect. She had proven without doubt that his body was no
match for her strength, his mind was hopelessly inferior, and
that his fragile male organs were equally outclassed by her
voluptuous, desirable, but all-powerful breasts and cunt. He
passed out from the pain and permanently wounded pride.

The rest of the night whenever he was conscious she used his
outclassed body for her enjoyment, burning into his psyche the
inferiority of his sex and the utter superiority of hers.

You liked that? Well, the merit is all of the author (J Straw) but comments are welcomed; anyway more shall follow.

[elgat]

Well, on Paul0415 link you can find most of the stories by Jack Straw but not all: here I post one which is a re-edied version of his best story (at least for me).

The Leg Man, the Breast Man, and the Ass Man, by Jack Straw
PART 1

The beautiful, very well-endowed woman shook her head as she pulled the aromatic hors d'oeuvres from the oven. "Why am I wasting my time on this?" she sighed to herself. But, as images of the remainder of the afternoon flashed into the crystal ball of her mind, she smiled sardonically.
"Patience, girl," she murmured softly, "There'll be plenty of fun later." She had so much pent up energy that she was close to exploding, but she still wanted to watch the second half of the game. So, why not fatten the pigs before the slaughter? She smiled as she lifted the tray of hors d'oeuvres.
She had invited an athletically handsome man named Wayne about her age over to her cottage to watch the big game on television. They had met at a party and found they shared a fanaticism for the local team. When he later asked over the phone if two other guys and their girl friends could come along, she nearly called it off. So conventional of him, she had thought ruefully; he was turning out to be a bore. But it was too late to make other plans, so she agreed to it. She had decided that she could always boot them out the door if things got dull, or have fun shocking him and his friends with the side of her personality that he had not seen yet.
However, on the day of the game, the men showed up at her secluded bungalow without the "girl friends" and bearing a case of beer. Instead of the anger they expected, she almost laughed out loud. This was better than she could have imagined! Her only disappointment was that Wayne's companions were quite a bit older and so ugly. They could never have had any self-respecting female companions. She was unable to suppress a giggle as they launched into a story to explain what had happened to the "girl friends." She wondered if they had played this charade before. Well, she would make them regret it; they didn't know what they were getting into. And when it came, it would be delicious; they so deserved it.
The part that didn't fit was Wayne. Why was he hooked up with these older farts? Under that smug exterior, he was a bigger loser than she had expected. Maybe he needed to be the hero for someone, or maybe it was something more sinister. As she headed for the television room, she paused to eavesdrop on their crude "man-talk" whispered between gulps of beer.
"Man, you were right, Wayne, she is SOME dish! I'm a leg man from way back and Whoooeee!" exclaimed the pockmarked, red-faced middle-aged man named George. "I love a fit-looking babe and she definitely must work out those legs of hers."
"Hey, and how about the size of her tits! What a pair!" from the stout round-faced man of similar age named Fred.
"Well, I like her ass and I plan to get me some of that tail," Wayne whispered.
"I don't know—she's a big one. I think there's too much there for you boy. You just might need some help." She WAS a big girl; in her sexy high heels she was as tall as Wayne, and taller than the other two, who made up for it in girth; they were very heavy-set and solid-looking. And red-faced, already with a few beers in their rotund guts.
"Well, there's enough there for all of us, if you know what I mean." All said with much winking, nodding, and self-satisfied snickering.
She heard it all. She couldn't believe that there were men who still talked like that. Far from unsettling her, it fit her plans perfectly; she could handle anything three mere men might do and she could be just as crude if she wanted to be. And when the time came to strike, it would be that much sweeter to bring down curs with such attitudes. But for now she wanted to watch the game, and pretended not to have heard.
In the same room with them, though, her self-discipline had its limits; men could be so deluded! Soon she found herself correcting a stupid comment by Fred, the "Breast Man," who was constantly sharing his "insight" into the game of football.
"Hey, what do you know about football, honey—I played it in school while you were in the pep squad. Why don't you just get us some more beer?" he replied sarcastically. Of course, she would have had to have been on the kindergarten squad when he was in high school, she thought, and retorted aloud:
"Well, you sure didn't learn much. And for your information, I could throw a football farther than any of the guys in our conference, but they wouldn't let me play. And I was the best runner, shot putter, and basketball player in the school as well. And - the best wrestler!," she ended pointedly, fixing him with a challenging look.
The man laughingly shook his head demeaningly and muttered, "Yeah, right!" as she expostulated on her prowess. Smirking at each other, the men turned back to the game. Inwardly, she seethed. They would regret their behavior, she vowed silently, but bided her time, letting them build a more and more damning case against themselves so that when she served justice she could suspend compassion entirely.
Eventually, tired of their moronic and lewd comments, particularly during suggestive commercials, and bored with the game, now that the home team was well ahead, she decided it was time to begin her fun. She was an old hand at putting men in their place, and it was time to begin. They were talking about cars, when she stood up and stretched her lissome body.
"Come on, guys! I didn't invite you over to talk about cars—let's have some action!" As they gaped in surprise, she calmly stepped out of her daring miniskirt. Her spectacular legs were now completely revealed below the sexy thong panties that were deliciously stretched by her enticingly feminine hips. Clad otherwise only in her short silk blouse and red high heels, she licked her lips and swayed her broad, athletically sculpted hips in exaggerated fashion as she approached the mesmerized "Leg Man." She planted her right foot, encased in the sexy spike-heel shoe, between his splayed legs, where the crotch of his pants were noticeably thickening.
"Do you like my legs? They're really strong, you know. Just think what it would be like to have them twined around your waist or scissoring your crotch. Would you like that, big boy?" she murmured throatily as she bent forward and caressed the bulges of feminine muscle. She put his hand on them and he trembled with arousal he could not control.
"I heard you declare that you were a 'leg man,' big guy," she breathed sexily, looking directly into the alcohol-hazed wide-open eyes that now were threatening to burst from his flushed face. "Do I measure up?" she asked throatily as she traced her finger along the perfect contours of her lightly flexed legs. The smooth skin rippled sexily. Bulging in all the right places, her ever-so-slightly tensed muscles screamed femininity and ultra-fit vitality.
The poor man was nearly rigid in catatonic shock. As she stroked her hand slowly up the length of one bulging calf and sleek, athletic thigh, he moaned audibly and trembled in electrified arousal. She noted smugly that his penis was clearly outlined beneath his tented pants and a wet spot was forming.
"My, you DO like my legs!" she tittered liltingly. "Now let's see if YOU measure up!" To all three men's surprise, she roughly unzipped his pants and pulled his cock into view. "Such a small dick for such a big guy!" she chided.
She flexed her calf above the arched foot so that the smooth muscles bulged imposingly. Running his rough hands along the huge ball of muscle, she breathed, "Feel the power, little man! Enough to squeeze you to a pulp. Would you like that, my big muscular legs squeezing your big belly like a tube of toothpaste? Don't believe it? Just try to move my leg, muscle man, before I ruin what little manhood you have!"
Devilishly, she pressed her toe against his rigid cock and ran both her hands suggestively up her leg. Completely enthralled, the portly man involuntarily closed his eyes and could not marshal the energy to push her foot off his trapped member, which both he and she could feel become rock hard at the point of explosion. Oblivious to the sweat that suddenly soaked his face and body and rasping with loud, ragged breathing, he felt his member lurch in full-fledged ejaculation as the beautiful woman pressed her foot down viciously, giving him a jolt of searing pain at the very moment of sexual bliss. His moan of pleasure gave way to a shriek of pain as he doubled over limply on the couch.
His friends had witnessed this spectacle with dry throats and flushed faces. As their friend groaned and tried to catch his breath, adjusting his position to hide his shrunken penis and the dark area of his pants where he had ignominiously loosed his dank-smelling fluids, concern and anger replaced shock on the faces of the other two men.
Starting to get up, Fred the "Breast Man," sputtered, "Now, wait a minute. What the ..."
"Oh, don't worry about him. He'll be all right I hope. I have LOTS more in store for you guys. I just hope he's not a one-shot guy, if you know what I mean. A little quick on the trigger, he is."
As she was saying this and before they could respond further, the woman directed her sexual barrage at the sputtering "Breast Man." Unbuttoning her blouse sufficiently to expose her awesome breasts, she thrust her huge bust into the face of the now hypnotized man at the other end of the couch.
"And you are the 'Breast Man,' right big guy?" she smiled haughtily, cupping her twin assets suggestively, tracing the large nipples that protruded through the thin fabric of her overloaded bra. "Well, do they measure up, stud?" Flustered and intimidated, the man swallowed dryly.
"Ahhh ..." he gasped involuntarily, and then sheepishly realized he had closed his eyes and opened them to be confronted with her knowing, mocking smile. He jerked in his seat as she lightly grazed the tented crotch of his loose pants. Her eyes gleamed merrily, as she murmured throatily, "Yes, I guess they do! You fellows are so good for a little girl's ego."
"Want a closer look?" she asked wryly, reaching back to unhook her overburdened lacy brassiere. She grabbed the thick man's tousled head and pressed his open, drooling lips against one turgid nipple. "Ooo, that's it! More than a little breast man can handle."
He reflexively pressed his lips worshipfully against the embodiment of his deepest fantasies and tried to reach up to touch her wondrous globes but found he could not, as she grabbed each of his wrists and pressed him forcefully into the back cushions of the couch. At the same time she pressed her breasts against his face so that it was enveloped in springy mounds of sweet-smelling breast flesh. She quickly reached down with one hand to release his now rigid cock.
At first he moaned in pleasure, lost in the fulfillment of his fantasies. His entire world became the twin orbs he considered the essence of feminine allure. They pressed against his face on all sides in a fleshy prison. He could see nothing but damp breast flesh and didn't care. He felt his cock twitch on the verge of explosion.
That his friends could see his imminent disgrace and her second conquest meant nothing to him at that moment. However, too late he realized he couldn't breath in the tumid confinement of her awesome cleavage. Dizzy and light-headed, he bucked and frantically pushed against her with his arms. Letting him try to free himself in a test of the strength of his thick male arms, she hugged him more tightly against her chest, his head pressing more deeply within the chasm between her mammaries against what felt like thick slabs of hard meat.
She pressed her thigh in against his prick. Even as he swooned limply in her arms from lack of air, his rigid member spasmed in a seeping fountain of impotent semen that she adroitly avoided as she deftly leaped back from the unconcious man ridiculously soiling his sweaty shirt with yellow spunk.
Wayne leapt to his feet. "Just what is your game, you cock-teasing bitch?"
"Are you jealous, Wayney? Don't worry, you'll have your chance. Maybe you'll have more self-control than these poor little wimps you brought along, but I doubt it," she taunted, pushing out her breasts and tousling her hair sexily. She turned her back to him, wiggled her ass suggestively, and let him seeth in anger. This was going in a direction he never anticipated and didn't like at all. Unconcerned by the angry look on his face, she shifted her demeaning smile to the other two men, who sat with faces flushed, unable to look their friends in the eye.
"COME ON, guys, no need to be shy!" she beckoned with her hands. "I know you want me—your cream is already on your pants." No question; they were excited, pulses racing, but, for all their loud bravado, they remained motionless, unsure what to do. She was inviting them into her panties, CHALLENGING them in fact. Women were supposed to shrink from them, make them feel tough, and then surrender soft, yielding bodies—at least that's how they dreamed about it. This was intimidating, downright degrading so far! They had to bring this bitch down a peg or two, but still they made no move, merely glared with a mixture of lust, anger, and (she could see it) FEAR!
This was great! she thought triumphantly. She had them on the defensive; she was psychologically emasculating them. These three men who had been so cocky were now immobilized by one nearly undressed woman. Her honey pot was filling with her juices and her nipples hardened in arousal at having dominated these blowhards just by partially exposing her magnificent body. It was almost too easy. She had to rouse them into action, so that the real fun could begin! Wiggling her ass exaggeratedly for the benefit of a glowering Wayne, she sauntered over to the front door and locked the door with a key she deposited in her panties. Turning around, she planted her feet wide apart and put her hands on her hips.
"HOW ABOUT A LITTLE BATTLE OF THE SEXES? LET'S SEE IF YOU GUYS CAN DO SOMETHING MORE THAN COME ON YOUR PANTS," she challenged, thrusting out her huge bust provocatively.

[elgat]

The Leg Man, the Breast Man, and the Ass Man, by Jack Straw

PART 2

"Shall we start with a little wrestling tournament? Which of you hotshots is man enough to handle little ole me? Take me down and show me how macho you are," she entreated cupping her body suggestively. They were leaning to rise out of their seats, despite their confusion. They were drawn like moths to a beacon by that perfect body and the lovely face with its luscious lips and vivacious, teasing eyes. She was asking for it!
"But I don't think you WIMPS can take me, even if you all pile on at the same time. I've just got too much MUSCLE for you," she exclaimed tauntingly, as she removed the loose blouse, fully revealing her arms, shoulders, and back muscles. What a sight! She was intimidating and arousing all at once. Her musculature was obvious, but still in repose, it was sleek and downright arousing, exotically augmenting the allure of her ample showgirl curves. They flushed in confusion.
"I told you guys that I was an athlete, and now you'll believe me. I could beat you up in so many ways. But I prefer to use just plain old brute strength, because it's such a turn on to show a bunch of blowhards like you guys that a woman can be stronger, much stronger. I have more strength in one arm than you do in your whole body and I'll prove it by beating all three of you to a pulp, all at the same time." She stood before them, hands on hips, her big feminine body gleaming. Slowly she flexed all of her muscles at once and giggled as their eyes widened in surprise. She was fit, very fit. And big. In all the places they wanted a girl to be, but with muscles to match—big muscles. She laughed at their hesitation.
"Well, come on! Afraid of ONE LITTLE GIRL? Well, maybe not so little, but I AM just a girl," she said cupping her imposing, voluptuous breasts again. "So I couldn't possibly stand a chance against real athletes like you." Still they made no movement. "You guys are all talk and no action. The only action you ever get is playing with your puny things in the bathroom!"
As she switched from flexing to a challenging hands-on-hips stance, the men recovered some of their macho demeanor. Leaning back in the couch, they laughed uneasily and leered at her. What could she do to all three at once? The "breast man" tried to smile deprecatingly but managed only what looked like a nervous grimace. Stuttering shakily, he rasped, "W-we know you want it, b-baby, but be patient, the game's still on. We'll take care of you, won't we guys?"
Moving her imposing, sexy body in front of the TV, where the game had become very dull because the score was so one-sided, she placed her hands on her hips. "I can't believe you guys. Let's get it on! I'm sure three experienced men of the world like you," she intoned sarcastically, "must have a lot to teach little ole me."
They smiled uncomfortably, noticeably perspiring. She gloated at having put them off guard after their earlier macho posturing. Their faces transparently asked what she was going to do next.
"Actually, what's going to happen is that I'm going to beat the malarkey out of all three of you blowhards, and then I'll use my female parts on you for MY pleasure not yours, IF I can stand to touch your repugnant hides!" she declared.
Again it was the "Breast Man" who spoke. "You are one crazy bitch. This is not a good situation for you! You may think you have big muscles, but there's three of us and only one of you. Unless you start apologizing, things could get out of hand here. What you need is an old-fashioned spanking, lady. And then you can use those 'female parts' all you want. What do you say, Wayne? She's just asking for it."
Before Wayne could respond, the fiery amazon challenged again. "Well, don't just sit there; prove what he-men you are." Still they sat, smirking at her.
"What a bunch of wimps you guys are," she cried in exasperation. "No wonder you have no girl friends. You have no respect for the superior sex, your dicks are puny, you have no control over them, and you're so scared to death of one little girl, you can't move a muscle."
"Well, I guess if you're so shy, I'll just have to help you out." She pounced like a panther on the "breast man", lifted the startled man high over her head, and carried him across the room. "How about I give YOU a SPANKING, big fella?" she exclaimed as she reached the threshold, the strident clicking of her heels muffled by the carpet, the awesome muscles of her legs alternately receding and bulging in granite-hard relief, mesmerizing the "leg man", and her other muscles bunched in peaks and slabs of emasculating power. Her lacy panties had pulled apart in several places with the swelling of her magnificent hips, exciting Wayne, the "ass man," despite his irritation.
But even as lust gripped them in a delirious spell, they were intimidated by this breathtaking display of brute female strength. The man she held aloft was a load, well over 200 pounds, and she had launched him into the air as if he were a beach ball! A WOMAN had done that!
Pivoting gracefully on her high heels, she grinned smugly at the two startled men who remained rooted to their seats, and she lowered the mortified "Breast Man" to her shoulder. Despite his panicked flailing of arms and legs, she held him securely so that his back was draped over her broad right shoulder and his head hung downward, nuzzling her large right breast. She reached over with her left hand and mashed his face against the firm, weighty mammary. It thrust forcefully against his nose as she expanded her large chest to impressive dimensions by taking a deep breath. "How does my breast look to you now, Mr. Breast Man?" she laughed. She rubbed his nose roughly back and forth for a few seconds to let him know that even the softest part of her anatomy was powerful enough to cause him pain.
But this playful display of her powerful female physique had not yet provoked his reticent friends to join the fray. She decided it was time for the big man to experience serious pain. The muscles in both her arms bulged as she simultaneously clamped viciously with her right arm against his large waist and with her left arm pushed his head away from her breast downward toward the floor. The "Breast Man" shrieked in pain, as he felt his waist being severed and his back and neck stretching to the breaking point.
She faced the other two and fixed them with a sexy, challenging pout. "Come on big guys; rescue your friend before I break him in two. You're not AFRAID, are you? After all, 'women just ain't as strong as men.' Just ask your big, tough friend." She was toying with a man who must outweigh her and whose big arm muscles now stretched out the sleeves of his loose T shirt. But despite his efforts to dislodge her arms, she powered the hold more savagely until a sharp cracking sound and his shrieks of pain caused his friends to leap to his rescue.
She had been slowly backing toward the open doorway of another room that opened into the hallway, and, as the two men rushed in to break the hold on their friend, she backed completely into this room. It was her exercise room, a room where they could tussle without breaking any furniture. As they were about to pounce on her in the middle of the room, she lifted the screaming Breast Man high over her head and thrust him crossways onto the two surprised rescuers with sufficient force that all three males fell into a heap on the hard floor. The collision with over 200 pounds of flying simpleton had its toll on his intended rescuers. Each banged his head on the floor and was momentarily dazed. Moreover, they were pinned for the time being by the groaning mass of their rotund friend.
The powerful woman walked confidently over to the door and locked it. Then, she turned around, insolently put her hands on her hips, and laughed uproariously.
"Is this the best you can do, guys? I haven't even broken a sweat and you're all three on the ground. Looks like the worst that might happen to a girl from you MACHO men is that she might break a fingernail slapping you around. Where's that big talk about spanking and having some tail? You guys are nothing but big, bloated wimps!" As she ridiculed their manhood, she flaunted herself sexily, jiggling her breasts and wiggling her hips.
Being on top, the "Breast Man" was the first to gain his feet. Growling in anger, he lowered his head to butt her in the abdomen. The mighty vixen merely braced her feet, tensed her powerful legs, and flexed the corded muscles in her lusciously trim midriff. As Breast Man's head crashed into her abdomen, a loud thud and a soft crackling sound echoed in the room. Sure enough, the red-haired hoyden slid backward on her high heels but she remained standing, seemingly unhurt, whereas the heavy man rebounded and lay stunned on the floor. The source of the crackling sound became apparent as he groaned in pain rubbing his injured neck.
Again, the big girl giggled merrily and drummed her fists on her corded midriff. "Pretty solid, huh? That's what happens when you spend time in the gym instead of swilling down beers, big guy. Maybe you want to try again? A little harder this time so that I might feel it?" she taunted.
In her taunting, she was almost caught unprepared as his two friends rose together from the floor to tackle her. They managed to dump her on the floor but could not control her. She was too quick, too strong, and clearly knew much more about wrestling than they did. As she forced one man down on top of the other in a savage full nelson, the recovered "Breast Man" joined the fray hoping to control her legs. But to his dismay, she managed to wrap her magnificent gams around one of his arms and his thick chest, and she began to crush him with the horrible vise-like strength of her legs. In control of all three of them, she exulted, "Pathetic! Three big guys against one woman and this is the best you can do! Pretty soon the beatings will begin, guys. You'll have none of that false pride in those pitiful male bodies of yours."
Humiliated and exasperated, Wayne yelled at his friends, "Come on guys. She's asking for it! No more holding back!" And he managed to squirt out from underneath the pile and encircle her chest with his arms from behind, trying to squeeze her with a reverse bear hug.
Being molded tightly against her amazing body, he instantly became fully erect. The mighty woman felt his hard member pressing into the cleft between her solid, sexy ass and moaned softly, becoming aroused herself. Laughing huskily, she ground one of her jutting, meaty hips against his erection and felt it pulsate. Wayne gasped as the delicious sensations in his groin turned his brain to mush, his battle lust giving way to the sensation of impending orgasm. He was only dimly aware as she tensed her powerful legs, pushed her hips more forcefully against Wayne, and launched him backward against a wall, dragging his heavy friends along with her.
She released her full nelson on one of his friends, reached behind her derriere, unzipped Wayne's pants, and ripped open his underwear to release his rigid, leaking member. Once again pressing a puissant, sexy hip against his cock, she reached up with both hands to grab Wayne's wrists. The painful grip on his wrists made Wayne open his hands so that she could use his hands to massage her engorged areolae and nipples. Though he tried to resist through the fog of his pre-orgasmic state, she easily overpowered his muscular arms, running his hands over her abdomen down to the sculpted globes of her perfect ass. She leaned her head backward against his face, caressing it with her silky hair. With his ragged, lust-propelled breathing, he smelled her exotic perfume. In short, she had reduced him from an angry attacker to a harmless wreck completely enthralled by her lusty charms. She throatily chuckled triumphantly as she felt his pulsating cock swelling against the rock-hard muscle of her large right hip.
Wayne moaned loudly in arousal, oblivious to everything else, as he felt the jutting and rippling of her fantastic derriere grinding his erect member against his abdomen with one of those magnificently meaty hips. Only when he began soaking his shirt with a copious stream of the seed from his lurching member, did he realize that she had worked her magic on him just as she had on his friends earlier.
She erupted in triumphant husky laughter and then ridiculed him disdainful intonations. "Did you like being tamed by my ASS, Waynie? You and your friends are nothing but weak little boys with no control over your little weanies. Looks like I'll have to take the initiative if I'm to have any satisfaction from you wimps! You're pathetic!"
She rammed her powerful hip viciously against his softening member. The pain amplified his humiliation. More than ever he wanted to take her down and humiliate her the way she was humiliating them, but he was unable to push her away. The thrusting of her powerful hips and muscular legs had him so thoroughly pinned against the wall that she contemptuously released his hands to show him that even engaging both his legs and arms in furious effort, he could not move her. Arms crossed over her breasts, in silent insult to his male strength, she was crushing him with just the power of her hips and mighty legs.
"What do you think of my ASS, now Wayne? How much of my ASS can you take, male wimp?" she taunted. Wayne clawed furiously at her iron-hard hips, ripping her tightly stretched panties, but her crushing pressure only increased.
"Come on guys! What are you waiting for?" he shrieked at his friends, his voice laced with pain and short of breath. "Now's your chance. Take her!"
"Yes, take me guys. I'm dying to have you show me what real men you are. So far all you've done is make messes with your little hoses. Not much to excite a real woman. Maybe you'll have more luck if I put one hand behind my back," she taunted, still crushing Wayne to the wall as she ground his groin area with her perfect rock-hard ass cheeks.
"Grab her legs and pull her forward," Wayne cried, no longer able to hide his desperation and pain.
George, the leg man, leaped forward, only too happy to grapple (and fondle!) her magnificent legs. The hoyden smiled and beckoned with her finger. "Yes, Leg Man, give it your best shot. I'm getting hot just imagining your hands on me," she teased, running her hands up slowly along each of her perfectly formed thighs and licking her lips in half-feigned, half-real sexual arousal. [continue...]

[elgat]

The Leg Man, the Breast Man, and the Ass Man, by Jack Straw

PART 3

Like a moth to the flame, George dove forward, encircling each muscular thigh with one of his chunky arms. Quick as a snake, the amazon attacked. Her flexed thighs parted wider, exploding her torn panties into tatters, and exposing the red thatch of her pussy to the greedy eyes of the Leg Man. Simultaneously, she grasped his head with her strong hands and pushed his head roughly to the cleft between her thighs. Immediately, she clamped those mighty thighs around his head, forcing his face into her sopping pussy. "Oh, yes, Leg Man, that feels greeaat! Oooo!!" she moaned, pleasuring herself and degrading Wayne's intended rescuer at the same time.
Before Wayne could test whether this distraction had made his trap looser, Fred, the Breast Man joined the fray. Rather than think logically about the best tactic, in his fury to avenge earlier humiliations, he rammed forward in a full frontal assault over the kneeling Leg Man, who was struggling to extricate his head from the smothering vice in which he found himself. Thus the Breast Man found himself chest to chest with the voluptuous amazon. "Oh, goody, you've come to rub my big strong bosom with your chubby, feeble breasts," she exclaimed. Quick as lightning, she ripped his shirt open to reveal his barrel chest. As he instictively raised his hands to stop her, she trapped his arms against his sides and encircled his large girth in a bear hug. Stiffened by her arousal, her solid breasts bore into his chest, imploding it and riveting her steely nipples into his skin. The stout man gasped in pain from the crushing vise on his ribs, the surprising pressure her chest exerted on his chest, and the boring of her engorged nipples into his yielding flesh. Meanwhile, Wayne found that he was trapped more tightly than ever.
Three big men had piled on one girl, but she was in control. That by itself gave her a sexual charge that had caused her pussy to fill with female juices and engorged her aerolae, nipples, and clitoris. Not only was she in control, but she was using their bodies to gain sexual release. She had maneuvered them so that every movement they made to escape her holds stimulated an erogenous zone on her sexy body. The Leg Man's panicked movements to free his face from her suffocating vise particularly stimulated her. Even Wayne's clawing and groping along her muscular hips, legs, and lower back merely aroused her more.
"Ooooo! You guys are so accommodating. Oh, yes!" she cried, rubbing her jutting breasts energetically against his hairy skin and squeezing the Leg Man's face ever harder against her seeping thatch. "Oooo, yes, oh, yes, oooo yeeessss!!" She came like a volcano, tensing her body in rigid contraction everywhere. A crescendo of sounds echoed through the bungalow. Loud cracks signalled damage to overmatched male bones being constricted by female muscles. As the puissant amazon shrieked in ecstacy, the men screamed even louder in pain, wasting the precious little breath they had. Slowly, she descended from the delerious high of this orgasmic display of female superiority, relaxed her holds on the men and stepped adroitly away from them. They dropped in a heap at her feet.
Fingering her erect nipples and her seeping honey pot with a contented sigh, she exulted, "Was that as good for you as it was for me, guys? You are such fun play-toys; I could do this all day!"
She haughtily placed her high-heeled foot on the limp man on top and flexed her biceps in the traditional victory stance. The men merely groaned.
"Well, guys, I'd say the female clearly won that round," she crowed. "I guess three against one is not enough advantage for you big HE-MEN when confronted by a healthy female. And in the orgasm department, while I was generous enough to let you each have one—with your individual favorite parts of my anatomy, I might add—I can't help thinking that you don't feel as satisfied with yours as I am with mine. Four orgasms, four forced by the female, zero controlled by the males. That's domination fellas, complete domination of the male weaklings by the superior female. Isn't it your belief that the male human dominates the female? Maybe it's just that you're not real men. Is that the problem? Or just not men enough," she chortled.
She kicked the men onto their backs so that they had to look up at her. Stepping away and putting her hands on her big, sexy, powerful hips, she continued. "If you can't put up a better accounting for your sex, this is going to turn from a rout to utter destruction. This is only the first lesson. Punishment makes the biggest impact when it takes the longest to heal. You have a lot to answer for and I've only just started," she finished ominously. "Besides," she added with a smirk, fingering her wet pussy, "I'm not nearly satisfied yet, and without my help, you don't have the strength or the equipment to give a girl adequate pleasure."
Wayne clutched his flattened genitals, grimacing in pain and severely wounded pride. The Breast Man ran his hand gingerly along the bruises in his neck and ribs. The Leg Man was still woozy from passing out in the tumid vise between her legs. All three were utterly embarrassed. The humiliation was now mingled with fright by these threats they did not understand, and, clearly, their ordeal was far from over. And all from a woman! The subdued men looked at each other, collecting their breaths and feigning worse injury than they actually had. Just as she seemed ready to pounce on them again, they simultaneously sprang up at her, tackling her to the floor with triumphant cries of "We'll see about that, Miss High and Mighty," and "Let's see how much you laugh with a few cracked ribs of your own, bitch!"
The fight was on again, to the delight of their female tormentor. The longer they clung to false hopes and male pride, the more fun for her. Oh, that male ego, such an entertaining defect!
The angry men redoubled their efforts, but soon all three men were struggling and losing. She taunted and teased, and flaunted her body. She rubbed her perspiring, erogenous flesh against theirs, devilishly arousing them as well as herself to a feverish state. Inflamed with lust, as well as battle anger, they had long since lost all reticence to grappling with her. But though they fought furiously, they found themselves underneath each other more than on top of her.
To add to their fury, she was often in such control of all three of them that she managed to systematically denude them as they struggled with her. Soon they were gasping and wheezing from the debilitating exertions, whereas she amazingly never seemed out of breath. If anything, she gained energy as they lost theirs. Just the powerful breathing of this nude female colossus was scary, as each deep inhalation thrust out her immense bare chest, emphasizing the muscular crevasse between her large breasts, and clinching her abdomen in chiseled granite-hard relief, contrasting its trim dimensions with the awesome breadth of her upper torso.
Only the sheen of perspiration indicated that her body had expended any energy at all. The glistening sweat emphasized what an achingly desirable physical specimen she was, but the men were unable to fully appreciate it as she put their weakened bodies into viselike bear hugs, scissors, and sleeper holds. Through it all, she had not removed her high heels, a physical handicap that further testified to her superiority and a turn-on that heightened their sexual frenzy.
Fred, the "Breast Man," unwittingly became the first to be squeezed unconscious. While grappling with the other two, she maneuvered over to where Fred was slowly rising to his knees from one her many debilitating tosses of his bruised body. She backed up with her legs spread apart so that when Fred rose higher, his neck lodged in the cleft between her granite thighs. She immediately clamped them together in a vicious standing scissors. Fred gurgled and weakly clawed at her legs, trying futilely to separate them. Soon he went limp and, when she opened her muscle-packed thighs, he slid ignominiously along the sexy curves of her powerful legs to floor, unconscious.
With the other two men kneeling near exhaustion on each side of her, she encircled each head with one of her mighty arms, wrapping the men in double headlocks. Drawing from her limitless reserves of energy, she powered the holds so brutally that the men cried out in pain and fear of having their heads crushed. Fed by the adrenaline borne of panic, each man frenetically pulled with both arms against the bulging female arm that was constricting his skull. But two male arms had no effect against the power of one of her puissant female arms. In desperation they began punching her everywhere they could reach, but their punches thudded uselessly. Eventually, they lost all power and drooped in complete exhaustion. It was a simple matter for the powerful amazon to squeeze them until they lay too unconscious.
With these two temporarily incapacitated and unconscious, she turned her attention to the third, the poor "Breast Man," who had been her favorite target because of his earlier brazen conduct. Having partially regained his senses, he shakily backed away from her.
"Please, I've—we've had enough. You've proved your point. We've got to be going," he pleaded.
"My, my, how the proud slob has fallen. Don't you want these big tits that you were crowing about earlier? I'm all yours for the moment—you don't even have to share with your friends," she declared, striding ominously toward him. Despite his panic, he could not take his eyes off her magnificent naked breasts and they were to be his final undoing.
She hugged the tired male so that his arms were trapped uselessly between their perspiring bodies, maneuvered him across the room to where she had closed the door, and forced his back against the door so that the other two when they revived would not escape. With one mighty arm on top of his head she pushed downward so that his face was wedged within her awesomely deep cleavage. Then she placed her arms against the top of the door above his head and thrust out her sizeable chest against the closed door.
"Yes, MR. BREAST MAN. You've been staring at my breasts all night. Here, have your fill. See if you can budge them before they smother you. That's all I'm using to hold you down, just that chest that seems to thrill you so."
It first excited him and then terrified him as he realized he really could not move or breathe. She had his slightly bent legs braced between her thighs so that he couldn't slide to the floor or move to the side. Otherwise, the only thing that impeded his movement was her incredible boobs. They were so large that they enveloped his head completely and so firm that try as he might to thrust upward—with his flexed legs, tensed neck and back muscles, and his freed arms—they did not budge. Her impressively developed pectoral muscles more than countered his desperate struggles so that he could not move the giant globes in any direction. His thick body was overmatched in a contest of all his inferior male muscles against a single portion of her super anatomy, in this case the anatomy that most inflamed his impotent lust. His stiff member bobbed freely between them.
Unable to breathe in this tumid confinement, he struggled violently but to no avail. His struggling was beginning to arouse her sexually when he swooned from lack of air. She rubbed his open mouth and its wet, flaccid tongue over her erect nipples, then let him slide impotently down her slick body until she poked his nose into her tingling vagina and rubbed it over her hard, swollen clit.
As her hormones impelled her to massage her tingling breasts, she cork-screwed him around so that his nose was still imbedded against her clit but his legs were in the air. She pressed one mammoth, firm boob into his soft testicles and semihard cock, and, inhaling deeply, squashed his balls flat and riveted the hard nipple through the soft flesh. The frantic thrashing of his screaming face against her clit and slit brought her over the brink of ecstasy. She climaxed violently, mashing him tightly against her crotch.
After savoring the afterglow of her second orgasm, she set the nearly unconscious wretch on his wobbly legs and kept him from falling by holding him at the waist. "Let me go, bitch. What's your damn problem?" he muttered deliriously.
"Do you have a death wish, chubby? No, you don't want to go yet. You wanted my breasts and you shall have them!" she hissed. In view of his fetish, she had decided on using her breasts to wreak still further humiliating punishment. She swung the firm, heavy, mammoth globes like bags of sand from side to side, snapping his unprotected face back and forth, harder and harder until his previously injured neck hung at an unnatural and very painful angle.
Still, to her amazement, it seemed that he lusted after these erotic instruments of torture, for he was fully erect. She ground the bullet-hard nipples around his eyes until reddish incipient bruises appeared. Still he was erect. She ran his hands and face over her incredible bust, but when his throbbing penis began to bob in rigid agitation near eruption, she lifted him over her head and slammed his back downward over her thigh. Pain overruled lust and his ejaculation sputtered feebly in mid-eruption. As she easily bent his stocky body in a direction it was not meant to bend, he was stretched to the breaking point. The muscles in her arms, shoulders, and chest bulged in huge, chiseled relief. As a fitting climax for his demise, she bent her torso downward so that her formidable breasts enveloped his head. His last image before things went black was of her immense, firm breasts powerfully thrust out by her robust chest muscles, melding in him the ultimate image of feminine sexual supremacy and the omnipotent strength that was breaking him in two. A horrendously loud crack signalled the splintering of vertebrae, and he passed out. She let him slide limply to the floor. "There now, I don't think YOU'LL be going anywhere!"
Still positioned near the door she faced the other two men, who had been slowly gathering their wits and inadequate male strength. In their vacillation while they witnessed her appalling destruction of their stocky friend, they had lost the element of surprise. Belatedly trying to steel their resolve and enraged at what they had seen, they charged at her. With only two of them, it was an unequal struggle that she prolonged for her amusment. Her capacity for teasing males was insatiable, like a cat toying with two mice. She put them in hold after hold, letting them know that they could not break the holds and then letting them go. They became frantic in their frustration and utter humiliation. While she had one tied up in an unbreakable standing scissor hold, she invited the other one (Wayne) to punch her rugged unprotected gut, which he did desperately, unsuccessfully trying to find a vulnerable spot but instead cracking his wrist, damaging his hand, and rupturing arm and shoulder muscles as his blows were abruptly arrested as if he had hit a brick wall. She smiled impassively, not the least affected by his best punch, and maneuvered him into a sleeper hold, which soon had him out cold, even as she maintained the other male in the constricting scissor hold. [continue...]

[elgat]

The Leg Man, the Breast Man, and the Ass Man, by Jack Straw

PART 4 (final)

She now devoted her attention to the weakened man between her legs. "You're the "LEG MAN," right?" He gurgled weakly, as if in reply.
"How do they feel?" she said as she wrapped his hair in her fingers and stroked the cheeks of his stubbly face along her pumped-up steely legs. Laying him on the floor, she rubbed the smooth expanse of her bulging legs along his erect prick. She guided his hand along them and also trailed her own fingers along them right up to the V of her crotch. Soon he was moaning in the throes of impending orgasm, but once again she curtailed a male's pleasure as she built her own. She slammed his face between her legs at the V of the crotch and squeezed on his jaw until she felt it compress. The animated thrashing of his head to free itself of this fleshy vise stimulated her to another crescendo of sexual bliss. The gushing of her come on his face revived him to feeble consciousness.
Discovering again that his little tool was erect, she hissed, "You love this, don't you sissy boy—being beaten by a big, sexy girl with the long, STRONG, SEXY legs." It never ceased to amaze her, this dysfunction of the male psyche that allowed their bodies to become aroused even as they were agonizingly abused by the superior FEMALE. But it certainly made it an interesting world for her.
She put the wheezing man into a waist scissors. She watched in fascination as his eyes opened wider and wider, and then bulged out in true terror as her legs hardened into steel girders that expanded in size right in front of his incredulous face until they seemed larger than his thick waist had been before she began to slice it in two as if it were butter. He was sure that organs were being squashed into melded pancakes and whatever muscles he had there were ruptured.
"Aren't they amazing, these legs of mine? I can't believe them myself. Quite a treat for a leg man, huh?" She ran his hands along their smooth, corded expanse, but noticing his terrified gasping for air, she said, "Oh, poor dear, you can't breath. Here I'll put them up higher. Let's see how strong your ribs are." With that, she relaxed her grip enough to let him draw an urgent breath, and then clamped her man-crushing thighs over his lower ribs. Again his eyes seemed almost to pop out of their sockets as something snapped loudly. "Oh, dear, they weren't very strong at all, were they?"
"Well, let's try something else." She maneuvered the limp, moaning, sobbing man into position for a grapevine hold. "This must be simply DIVINE for a LEG MAN like you. Feel those sleek gams and calves," she demanded grabbing his wrists and forcing his hands to massage the legs that were tearing him apart. True to his nature, the perspiration-lubricated stroking of those perfect stems took his mind off the pain. Again, to her amazement he erected; it was a monument to her sexual power. And then her physical power took over; she bent her legs upward, bending HIS legs backward at the knees in the direction they weren't meant to go. In the pain his erection was lost.
"This is what a real WOMAN's legs can do to a MERE MAN's, including those big athletes on TV that you idolize, let alone a wimp like you. Go on fight it; give it all you've got. I'm going to snap you like a twig!" Terror shot adrenalin into his bloodstream giving him energy he didn't know he had, but it was useless. His chunky legs might as well have been matchsticks as they cracked loudly at the knee. Simultaneously, she crushed his upper ribs with a mighty jolt of her hugely muscled arms and shoulders, which had encircled his upper torso in a bear hug, and he passed out finally from the unbearable pain and shortage of air. "Too bad a leg man like you missed seeing how my legs bulged out when you went out," she mused as she rose from the heavy man's crushed body.
Now it was Wayne's turn. Having revived and seen the crumpled lumps that once were his friends, he crawled backward into a corner of the room trembling in fright, begging for pity. She laughed coldly, shaking her head.
"You guys had to be taught a lesson, Wayne, and I believe in being thorough. I'm the most disappointed in you, so how can I spare you? That would only spoil you," she giggled girlishly. "Let's see, now: I think I heard that you are the 'ass man'. Well, how about a nice solid goose up your hind end, ASS MAN?" she sneered, rolling him over and delivering a thunderous punch between his hips that seemed to shatter his pelvis. "Now, you've got something to cry about CRYBABY!" she yelled as he sobbed in pain.
"Or perhaps this is what you wanted," she taunted as she straddled him, facing his legs, and planted her delectable rear end squarely on his face. She grabbed each of his legs, spread them apart and back until the pain became excruciating. Effortlessly, she kept them immobile, while she gyrated her tush on his face. He beat his hands frantically along her steely body, but she merely laughed at his inability to hurt her.
"Is this what you had in mind? How do you like my ASS now, wimp?" she goaded the humiliated would-be stud. She released his aching legs and grasped his wrists so tightly that his hands opened limply. Then she ran these open hands gently, caressingly over her steely, feminine, swelling buttocks. As she forced him to massage her ever more sensuously and continued her lively bucking of her aroused clit over his nose and mouth, she noticed that he was erecting in turgid, veined urgency and giggled triumphantly. With all these erogenous signals she suddenly went rigid in pleasure, clinching her mighty buttocks violently around his smothered face, breaking his trapped nose, unconsciously squeezing his trapped wrists in a bone-shattering, ligament-rending grip, and releasing onto his face a copious flow OF that female nectar that she seemed to have in limitless supply.
"Gee, I believe you do like my ass!" she chuckled, pointing to his hugely erect cock that she was tickling teasingly as he regained consciousness.
"Now, I think I heard something about getting some 'tail', too. What a quaint old expression. You've been hanging around these old farts too long, little Waynie, and it's really got you in trouble this time," she stated in a mock-serious tone, noting with glee the expression of helpless apprehension on his abject face, still wet and reeking from her abundant secretions.
"Well, okay, show me what you can do with that pretty-boy body of yours. Let's get it on!" she entreated. A little suspicious but hoping that this could somehow be the ticket to free himself of this nightmare, even to establish some control over her, he allowed her to roll him onto his back as she nuzzled, caressed, kissed, sucked and simply drove him wild with desire. His large member stood at attention ready for duty, as she wound a sturdy nonlubricated condom over it, and engulfed it with her juicy, furnace-like love channel.
"This is the first and last time you enter me with your pitiful weenie, Waynie boy!" she hissed ominously. "You see, a "tail", as you call it, on a REAL WOMAN can be just too much for weak little dingus like yours to handle." His look of perplexity changed to one of wide-eyed pain as she grunted in concentrated effort, flexing the muscles of her nether region viciously and wringing his yielding stiff member with her wet muscular vagina. He gasped in terror; it felt like his member was going to burst from the pressure.
To demonstrate her undeniable superiority in this contest of sex organs, she brought her feet up alongside where her vagina was still wringing his cock. Straightening her superstrong legs, now flexed to immense proportions in front of his contorting face, she stood up, ripping him up by his dong. His pitifully vulnerable and oh so feeble male groin muscles protested against the abrupt force applied by this movement and he howled in pain. "Oops, sorry! Groin pull, right?" she giggled at the double entendre.
In his pain and terror, he went limp, allowing his abused organ to slide out of her mighty slit and the slickened condom, and he thudded weakly onto the floor. But she caressed him to erection again, despite his pain, applied another dry condom, and again mounted him. This time her contractions on his member were more gentle and she smiled down at him. He again was willing to believe that she was infatuated with his body.
She whirled their coupled bodies over so that he was now on top. The condition of his groin made it painful, but he gave it his best effort. Yet...
"Come on, put some force into it, weakling! I can't even feel you!" she ridiculed him. Now much less confident, he redoubled his efforts, whose pleasurable effects she hid in a mask of disdain.
"Oh, criminy, it looks like I'll have to help you. What a wimp!" The pride of the big man, taller and heavier than she, was further wounded as she grasped his rump in her strong hands and yanked him in and out, much harder and faster than he had. At the same time she again flexed her awesome vaginal muscles against his sensitive member. With each upstroke his member was ripped painfully away from his body, further damaging the fragile groin muscles so typical of the pathetic male gender, only to be rammed home anew into her clinging furnace.
She stopped aiding him on the upstroke, wanting him to recognize even more fully his utter inferiority by letting the gasping man exhaust himself with the exertion of simply trying to remove his organ from the groin-rending grip of her mighty love channel, but, before he could extract it completely to sooth its burning pain and catch his breath, she would violently thrust him back in, mashing his flattened balls each time in the process. As she neared a volcanic orgasm, the sweat-soaked, red-faced, wheezing pathetic male slumped in fogged agony and utter, limp exhaustion.
"What a wimp! How did you ever presume to make love to a real woman?" Her contemptuous taunts degraded him further as she forced him back under her vastly superior body and finished the one-sided love-bout. Violently, she pistoned up and down. She ground his cock and balls as she slammed down with irresistible force, and then, on the upswing, lifted the middle of his limp body off the floor with just the terrible grip of her almighty vagina yanking up his overmatched penis. Her engorged clit although smaller than his prick was much harder. It was another reminder of her superiority, as its hardness gouged a furrow in his weaker male organ.
The sensations of sexual climax gripped her and she clamped even harder with her vagina, pulverizing his now very sensitive organ. She was extremely aroused—breasts swollen and ultrafirm, nipples thrust out in ecstasy, swollen clit awash in tingling sensations. He shrieked in pain as he felt her flex her entire omnipotent body around him, crunching ribs, pelvis, and sternum, and bursting his spongy male appendage into a pulp inside the condom as she reached her ultimate climax. His face buried in her bosom, he was utterly finished! In a fogged stupor Wayne awaited the end and spiraled down into an uneasy unconsciousness.
"I told you, you weren't up to it," she hissed, catching her breath on the way down from ecstasy.
She sighed in euphoric contentment. She had made good on all her earlier pronouncements. Three former evangelists for male supremacy lay utterly demolished, physically and sexually, by a single female.
***********
She carried the badly disfigured male carcasses, more dead than alive, out to their car, parked near an telephone pole on the deserted cul-de-sac where her cottage was the only residence. Their limp bodies reeked from the beers she had forced down their throats as an afterthought.
Woozily, they drifted in and out of agonized consciousness, languid witnesses as she sealed the nights' activities with a final mind-branding demonstration of female power and strength. Using her martial arts training, she kicked in a car door with a ferocious, compact blow, then heaved back mightily on the door until the overmatched thick steel hinges gave way.
Finding two rags inside the car, she used them to protect her hands for a final demonstration of raw amazon power. Concentrating all her energy into her dense, enormous muscles, she took a deep breath and lifted one side of the car off the ground higher and higher, rejoicing in the strength that coursed through her being. Her naked body gleamed in the soft moonlight. Muscles already pumped up from the unequal contest with these males, suddenly exploded under her elastic skin into Himalayas of granite flesh. Even in their dimly conscious, immobile states, this prodigious display burned a permanent image into the men's brains of the outrageously pumped-up female animal, primeval and goddess-like in her splendor, a gleaming naked FEMALE ATLAS lifting, launching, and shattering the world of puny mere men. This was it, then, Wayne, dimly thought; she was going to send the car and then them into the ravine.

*******
Wayne awoke with a start, the lights of an ambulance flashing in his face. His friends were groaning in pain and slowly gaining consciousness as well. They were all naked, but in their agony they didn't care. As the ambulance attendants carried him from the car, he realized that they were not in the cul de sac at all, but had been parked along a road a mile or so away. So he must have dreamed about what she had done to the car, he thought, and then he noticed the deeply dented car door through which he had been extracted and then two places along the bottom of the side panel that were markedly free of dust, as if cleaned away by a rag.
*******
The next day she visited them, one after the other, at the hospital. They trembled uncontrollably at the very sight of her. Her dazzling beauty filled the room as she inclined her face sensuously inches from each man's face, in turn, and smugly asked, "What do you remember from last night? Think about it; I'm sure it'll come back to you—ALL of it! But you'll never tell anybody because they wouldn't believe you, and, besides, you're scared mindlessly of me, aren't you? You're tinkling in your bedpan right now!"
Still, she could not help but humiliate them further; it was her nature. "I'd love to hear the stories you guys have made up to explain how you came to be in a parked car, buck naked and beaten to a pulp. Wouldn't it be fun for me to sit here and listen to you tell it to the nurses, and ask little embarassing questions about the inconsistencies? What if the TRUTH were to get out to your friends, if you have any? Beaten by a LADY, all three at the same time!"
"You thought you were cute to trick me into letting you come over to my house so that you could drool over my body and eat my party food. Then you had the gall to make lewd comments that I could hear. And you thought yourselves even cuter when you ridiculed women's athletic abilities and refused to admit that I was obviously stronger than any MAN you've ever seen. Well, what do you think now? Considering the inherent weakness of your sex, I think you'd better clean up your acts, wimps. The next woman you insult might not be so kind!"
They had complained among themselves that they hadn't deserved this, and had random thoughts of how to avenge the terrible assault they'd suffered. But seeing her made them face the truth: they could never hope to wreak revenge on this goddess; she was invincible: Assaulting her would only bring them more pain. They readily blurted out that she was superior; they begged forgiveness; they said whatever she demanded: that they were sissy wimps who couldn't control their own disgusting bodies, that they hadn't deserved the mercy she had shown them, that they were GRATEFUL just to be in her presence. In truth, they were as hopelessly enthralled by her overpowering beauty as they were cowed by her unassailable strength. Stretching her tight, revealing outfit with each movement of her incredibly endowed body, she delighted in flaunting the objects of their desires, her delicious Amazon LEGS, BREASTS, and ASS, and laughed as they squirmed in painful erections. Wayne's erection was especially painful, given the delicate, bloodclot-encrusted state of the cock he had formerly manifested with such pride.
"From now on whenever you see a well-built lady, you'll wonder what would happen if she rolled up her sleeves and turned on you." With that, she rolled up her sleeves and flexed her beautiful female arms until massive rocks of muscle welled up under each man's nose. As the last man fainted away, she laughed exultantly, called for a nurse, and strode triumphantly away.
As always she revelled in the lustful glances of "virile" men, some furtive and longing, others openly leering, as she swept by them in frilly, revealing clothes along the maze of the hospital hallways. Men that were hers to tame, should she favor them by doing so. Oh, so many men to educate and toy with, so little time! [THE END]

Feel free to comment and give K.

[madsoam2]

I also really liked his stuff.  Thanks a lot for the revival from your archives.

[beanoman]

Does he still write for that site or has he been AWOL forever?

[elgat]

Unfortunately, Jack Straw stories disappeared from DtV library some years ago (but not from webarchive) and also from a couple other sites where they were stored. Also, He has not written anithing new from the late nineties for what I know, but I may be wrong (sometimes I wonder if he's still alive).

I have another re-edited story to post (and I'll do that soon) than just the stories you may find in the webarchive link.

Jack Straw was a very talented author, I miss him.

[elgat]

The other story I promised, enjoy:

Hustler in High Heels, by Jack Straw
part 1
She aroused them with her body, beat them at their game, burst their ball, broke their bodies with her superior physique and then used them for her pleasure


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's note: I originally gave this story the title "White Gals Can Jump," which only has meaning to those who know about the movie, "White Guys Can't Jump."

The day was fading in the west and guys were heading home, but three remained, lazily shooting buckets. They were the hustlers, the winners. It had been a good day, the most money they'd ever won. They joked and taunted each other in ritual fashion, not ready to quit just yet. Behind them, they heard the clicking of her shoes and, glancing around, immediately fastened on the bright colors of her revealing outfit.

She was quite a sight, jauntily walking along the deserted walkway on her high-heeled shoes, her firm, jutting hips swaying side to side in a tightly stretched miniskirt, and her huge breasts majestically expanding the thin fabric of her elastic halter top. Her swinging arms were covered by a loose-fitting shirt that was tied across her midriff. Her muscular, sleek legs bunched and stretched sexily with each step. Her light brown hair was tied off in a ponytail that bounced with her gait.

They gaped, startled to witness such a vision in that locale, especially at that time of day. This was a deadend walkway that ended at the isolated basketball court. The only people who came here were basketball players and maybe their girlfriends. She was lost or asking for trouble. And her trouble would be their fun!

"Hey baby!" they hooted. "What's happening mama?" Expecting her to realize her mistake and try to escape, they moved to surround her. Up close they were struck by the exotic beauty of her face, emphasized by her carefully applied makeup. This chick was looking for sex! "Looking for some action, beautiful? How about a little basket-BALLING?"

She smiled indulgently, and, deliberating misunderstanding the last idiocy, she whisked the ball from the grasp of the one nearest her. "Sure, how about a game? It looks like you need another player."

They laughed uproariously. "You're not dressed for it, honey. Besides a girl just wouldn't be in our league. We really had something else in mind."

The one from whom she had taken the ball lunged to take it back, but suddenly she wasn't there. Smiling mischievously, she had darted between them and raced toward the court, high heels flashing behind her and miniskirt riding up above her pistoning hips to reveal her lacy, white panties.

"So, she wants to play games! Fine! Oh, BABY, this chick is going to be fun!" Hot, silent thoughts ran through their minds. She had them panting with lust, and, drawn to her like moths to a flame, they raced off in hot pursuit. But none of them could get close enough to get the ball back. They couldn't even corner her as she feinted and dribbled the ball through them from one end of the court to the other. Soon, they were gasping for breath. "Okay, the bitch can dribble! and run. still in high heels (?!)," they admitted. As if to answer the next question, she slowed down and shot a long, arching shot that dropped through the basket touching nothing but net, with a nice, ripping sound. Bent down, catching their breaths, the men blinked at each other: Which planet had they been beamed to?

With the expression of the cat with the canary, she twirled the ball as she strode toward them. One of the men, looking up, couldn't help confessing his admiration: "Where'd you learn to play like that?"

"Oh, here and there, you know. The things I like best are loving and basketball. Nothing gets me hotter than a man who can beat me at B-ball! How about it guys, any takers?"

They couldn't wait for the chance. This was one, hot babe! A fantasy come to life. The fabric of her halter was stretched by her giant boobs to the point that threads were unraveling and her erect nipples protruded through the perspiration soaked fabric like erotic bullets. The bottom of her thin, elastic miniskirt had been forced up by the taut muscles of her thighs so that her crotch peeked at them through her delicate panties. And her legs! Oh, the chance to get between those long, sexy (and muscular!) stems! Just to stroke them almost would be enough! And her skin so flawlessly smooth and tanned evenly wherever it was revealed. She had them so hot they couldn't think straight. They jumped forward together, each clamoring to be first.

Inwardly, she exulted in their babbling. "Here, we'll decide it by the guy who makes it first from here. I'll go first." They were over thirty feet from the basket. She turned and effortlessly let the ball fly, without dribbling, without jumping; merely a slight bending of her knees, bunching out her calves deliciously, and a flick of her wrist. SWISH. Again they blinked.

The first two guys missed, sheepishly annoyed as the third one managed to have it drop through after it banged around the rim a couple of times.

She and this guy shot to decide who would get the ball first. Her shot missed but his sank.

"WAIT! Before we start, I've got to get rid of this." She dipped into her deep cleavage and held up a big wad of money. She unfolded and separated it enough that they saw that it is all very large bills. A girl shouldn't be carrying such money alone, especially not around here. They glanced at each other. A glimmering of nervous suspicion seeped through their sex-fogged brains. Were they being set up by someone who wanted them to stay there?

She swiftly darted to a nearby boulder and placed her money under it. (It looked like she lifted it! with one hand! but the movement was so fast that they were sure it had been an illusion or maybe it was balanced funny.)

"Okay, big guy, let's go! First one to get five buckets wins," she challenged, rocking back and forth lightly on her high-heeled shoes. Like the other two men, he was well over 6 feet tall, fast, and strong. She was tall for a woman but even in her four-inch heels, her eyes were not quite at his eye-level.

"What about your shoes, mama? You're going to wear those?"

"It'll be my handicap."

To his chagrin, he lost, and then each of his buddies lost when their turn came, even though each took out the ball first. And it only took about ten minutes altogether. After "losing" the shoot-off to decide who went first, she never missed. Mostly she took outside shots, but they couldn't block them. In the high heels she appeared clumsy at times, but amazingly quick when they swept over to take advantage. She was just not there where they thought she'd be. On defense she didn't try to block shots, but managed to steal the ball several times. It was as she had four hands. They each managed to score a couple of times in the beginning but, once she stole the ball, they never got it back. It happened so fast, and she was so mesmerizingly sexy and fun to watch, that their heads were spinning. In typical macho style they pretended that they hadn't been trying. (Secretly, each was glad that the others lost; they could still swagger and jive.)

Knowing that they wanted to believe and really DID believe that they hadn't been trying and knowing their instincts as hustlers, she now upped the ante. A couple of old men on an evening walk had stopped to watch. Talking loud enough for the old men to hear her, she challenged the hustlers to a game of 3 on 1. When they hesitated, she taunted them: "Are you guys afraid? You three, big guys against LITTLE ME, to ten baskets, for all the money under that rock." Suddenly, they were rapt in attention. MONEY! She darted to the boulder and withdrew the money. Standing close enough for them to see it, she counted it out. This was more money than they'd made in all their hustling days combined! "You do have the money to match that, right?"

They looked at each other and nodded, amusedly. What difference did that make? Even if they lost, they could take her money anyway. And, besides, how could they lose. Once they took the ball away from her, they'd win. There was no way she could get it back, defending against three guys. She wouldn't be able to rebound if they missed. They were still suspicious that someone was setting them up, but if they worked fast they could make off with the money and the chick before anyone showed up. Why not play along? Their addiction to gambling won out; they agreed.

"Okay, no need to show your money. I'll collect later." Damn, she was asking for it. Not only were they going to teach her a lesson on the court; there would be some more lessons later.

Again she deposited the money under the large boulder and again they had the impression that she had actually lifted it (rather high? with one hand?), but her back was to them, and they were distracted by watching her bend and stretch that incredibly sexy body.

A game to ten. They feel a little guilty, but she had insulted them with people looking on, and she obviously thought they had been trying in those meaningless games. It was her mistake, not theirs. Just get it over fast and see what else is in store or maybe get the hell out of there. This had to be a setup.

Shadows lengthened as day was ending. They gave her the ball first. She asked if they were ready.

At their signal, she began. She sped through them and DUNKED the ball!

"one zip." They had been caught off guard, not taking her seriously and certainly not expecting her to be that fast. They looked to be sure she still had her high heels on. yep. sexy-looking but sturdy; still, she must worry that they'd break or she'd slip. Looking up from her shoes, their eyes could not help but stray to those lovely, sleek (but muscular!) legs revealed all the way to her crotch. This couldn't be a guy in drag.

"Come on, guys, give me some competition."

Now they were ready, but still not serious enough to coordinate their efforts. Again she left them flat-footed as she darted for the hoop.

"Two zip. Really, guys, this is boring. Still sure girls can't play?"

This time they bunched together preventing a drive to the basket, but she foiled them by feinting a drive, pulling up and nailing a jump shot.

Soon the score was 5-zip and they hadn't touched the ball yet. Angered and frustrated, they ganged up and charged against her as she started to move, but instead of falling she landed on her feet still dribbling the ball, spread them out and zipped through them. She was making them look like clumsy fools.

"Six-zip. I thought you guys said you could play. Look, why don't we play full court. At least you'll touch the ball."

She gave them the ball out of bounds and retreated with her sexiest gait to the other half of the court. They seethed in anger. Put down by a sexy number like that! No chick was going to get the best of them! She was really asking for it now; they were going to knock that cocky tomboy grin right down her throat!

One of the men brought the ball up the court and, rejecting the chance to pass off to one of his open teammates, launched himself toward the basket for a power slam dunk "in her face". But like a cat she had been poised near the basket to strike. She leaped higher than he (both of heir hands high above the rim) and ripped the basketball from his tight grasp, without touching him. His teammates gasped. Without skipping a beat she retrieved the ball, sprinted through her startled opponents and, high heels clicking lightly but rapidly behind her, she rammed down her own resounding slam dunk. And racing back up court she was in position before they even pick up the ball! The old men who had been watching, shook their heads in disbelief, and moved on their way. Now she was alone with them.

"SEVEN-zip. Really, guys, I think I ought to start playing one-handed." The three macho hustlers were dazed. How did she do that? First of all, how could she jump that high? For the first time they noticed how thickly muscled her legs were. (IS this a guy? No, the legs were too supple, smooth, just plain sexy, but strong! A lot of women's legs looked strong but they had never seen proof like this.) And still in high heels that emphasized the awesome ridges of her calves and thighs as the muscles alternately bulged and receded as she trotted into position. The heels also forced her broad hips to jut out deliciously under the miniskirt, which was riding higher and higher above those big thighs. Surely that was a woman's crotch that had been revealed on some of her higher leaps. And then of course there were her colossal boobs. The way they expanded the fabric of her top was so delectable. And the cleavage! So big, yet they jounced ever so slightly as she gracefully made her moves on the court. The large erect nipples now were even more clearly revealed through her now sweat-dampened top. Despite their exertion and humiliation, the men were perpetually semierect, and became more aroused when they rubbed against her in their so-far futile attempts to guard her. The sexual stimulation was almost painful.

Angered by their humiliation in front of the onlookers, the men began to play rough. They attempted hard screens, but as they charged toward her blind side aiming to send her onto her sexy derriere, she deftly leaped out of the way and THEY ended up falling flat on THEIR butts. They expected to be able to outmuscle her under the boards, but found themselves giving ground. Abandoning the idea of inside shots that she always blocked, they shot from outside. The first one fell and they are buoyed. But when the next missed, she emerged with the rebound with two men hanging onto each arm. Shrugging them off as if they were flies, she again launched herself down the court, leaving the third man on his face as he fouled her in an attempt to get the ball.

EIGHT to one. As she went up for the next rebound, they grabbed her halter top and ripped it off. Still she continued, amid their astonished gaping. What a pair! Her shirt had come untied as well and they could see the muscle-ridged wall of her abdomen. The contrast between the narrow waist and the expanded chest when she breathed was mesmerizing! Smugly acknowledging their stares, she thrust out her chest toward them as she lofted a long hook shot with her back to the basket. NINE one.

The game was now secondary to the men. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, they were completely outclassed by a WOMAN, who so snubbed their ability that she played in clothes that were meant for a discotheque not a basketball court. And it was no contest! A total rout. Their only thought was to somehow regain the upper hand in what was becoming a humiliating battle of the sexes. The hell with basketball, they were going to ravish this chick! Two guys grabbed and ripped off her miniskirt as she stole the ball. Leaving them on the ground in her wake, she raced down court, feinted around the remaining defender, and, flexing those incredible leg muscles awesomely, she leaped, lifting the ball well above the rim and then slammed it home two handed.

The game was over! Not even breathing hard she turned to face them, one hand twirling the ball and the other hand pressed challengingly on a delectably curved hip. Despite their consternation, their juices were flowing. She was clad only in the loose, open shirt, her sexy heels, and a torn pair of panties that bared her unmistakably female sex. The delicate, white fabric of the panties contrasted with the beautifully tanned skin tautly expanded over her delicious but undeniably ultramuscular hips, legs, and midriff. [continue...]

[elgat]

Hustler in High Heels, part 2

[continued] "Okay, guys. I won fair and square. I believe you owe me some cash, not to mention $100 extra for some new clothes."

"Look, lady, you're in a bad position. Nobody's out here but us. You hardly have a stitch of clothing on. You may be hot shit in basketball, but your game's over. You don't know who you're dealing with. Nobody messes with us and comes out on top. Your only chance is to start running."

Calmly, she removed her shirt and they simultaneously sucked in their breaths, stupefied. She had been hiding the most muscular torso they had ever seen. They had not appreciated how broad the shoulders were; now they were revealed as huge, corded deltoids. And the arms! Huge bombs of biceps, triceps, and forearms welled up before their eyes. Blinking, they gaped as she compared the sizes of first her breasts, thrust out on deep pectorals, to the basketball she held. They compared quite favorably in size, the men assented silently, their tongues hanging out. They longed to put her down and play with those globes of pleasure, but what she did next made them hesitate. She held up the basketball next to one of her arms as she raised and flexed it. The arm suddenly exploded in mountainous ridges that also began to rival the basketball in size. Despite not being as tall as they, she suddenly looked immense.

Grinning at their confusion, she started to squeeze the basketball between outstretched hands held chest high. All of the muscles of her torso flexed awesomely; veins, flooded with hot blood, and muscular ridges exploded into relief through her velvety skin. The ball suddenly seemed small in the presence of her immense bulges of muscles and outthrust mammaries. It became distorted, began to flatten, and with a loud pop, the valve core burst and air whooshed out. Smirking at their shocked faces, she flipped the ball meaningfully at their feet, where it plopped lifelessly, and she shook her pumped up muscles to loosen them. They stared at the rapidly deflating ball and, when they lifted their gazes, she was advancing on them slowly, confidently, indeed, menacingly.

Completely discombobulated, they didn't know whether to run or attack. Suddenly, one of them dashed over to the rock where she had placed the money. Realizing what he had in mind, the others followed. Two men were struggling to lift the rock, as she tackled the third. She punched him viciously in the ribs, breaking a couple in the process, and then raised him in a reverse bear hug that crunched more ribs. She then grabbed a leg and broke it at the knee over her knee. He twitched and screamed in agony as she stalked over to the other two men. Groaning with hernia-inducing effort, they had managed to lift the rock a few inches off the ground but hadn't figured out how to keep it lifted while they reached under to retrieve the tantalizing money that they could see in the dark recesses underneath, all of their arms, shoulders, and straining legs were required just to hold the prodigious weight rock where they had it. Suddenly they noticed that the nearly nude amazon was silently watching, exulting in their inferiority, a huge, contemptuous smile on their face. It flashed through their minds they she HAD lifted or at tipped the large boulder sufficiently with ONE hand that the other hand could deposit the money underneath. She towered ominously, legs spread, the arching of her high-heeled feet enhancing the bulges in her calves and frighteningly huge thighs, hands on flaring hips, huge chest magnificently blotting out the rising moon, her muscles intimidating even in half-flexed state, and tattered panties seeming to mock their impotent male physiques.

"Run!" was their simultaneous thought. They dropped the rock and started in opposite directions. She leaped to grab one almost before he started and dragged him with one crushing hand while she raced after the other. The one being dragged was gouging a swath of uprooted grass and dirt, but slowed her not in the least. Rapidly she gained on the other and caught him in a one-arm tackle. The men were too frantic to recognize the outrageous strength and athleticism required in being able to do this. They were too busy grappling with her as she squeezed one to unconsciousness with arms while she crushed the other with her legs. First she applied her bear hug and scissors across their ribs and, with a mighty flex of all her muscles at once, cut through their torsos like they were butter. Their eyes bulged out in terror as they felt her granite-hard muscles expand. With their arms trapped in the holds, they could only flail their legs uselessly, as the air exploded from their constricted diaphragms and ribs snapped like dry twigs. She shifted her holds so that one man was suffocated in the deep, fleshy cleft between her breasts and the other was smothered against her moist, hairy crotch.

She hefted the limp males onto her shoulders and deposited them in a heap, hidden from view in a dense grove of trees. After retrieving the third guy, who had been crawling painfully like a crippled bug in a futile effort to escape, she went through their equipment bags: "How nice of them to bring their wallets and keys."

"You know, guys, there's not nearly enough in here." They had regained consciousness to find themselves completely denuded and stacked on each other like fallen dominoes. She was astride the neck of the first one, her thighs hugged the torso of the one below, and her feet were planted firmly on the most unfortunate wretch on the bottom, who was splayed out at a right angle to the others. They all wheezed in agony from the combined weights atop their broken ribs.

She was showing them that she had rifled through their wallets. "I know where you live, now, so I'll be able to make you come across with the rest." Silently daring them to attack, she amused herself by effortlessly bending their keys with large-veined muscular thumb and middle finger over an equally formidable forefinger until the keys were folded over like paper matches. She held her forearms close to their faces so that they could see the steel-like bands of sinew ripple as she folded each key in half. She loved to do things like this in front of men; it really got their attention! The men were genuinely terrorized. What had seemed like a fantasy come true at first was now a nightmare. They wanted to ask why she was doing this, but found their mouths spasming soundlessly.

"I found this in one of your bags." She held up a box of condoms. "So you believe in safe sex?" She laughed almost evilly. "It gives me an idea of how to get my first payment of what you owe. You guys are going to please me. I hope you fight it because that would make it more fun, but, whether you fight or not, you're going to give me pleasure. I warn you--sex with me, is NOT safe. I have a big appetite, and I don't think you're quite up to it. But we'll see."

She bent down and kissed the one on top and ran her hands along the hairy torsos of the guys below. She was almost disappointed that they put up no resistance, but what chance had they? Anyway, why resist the chance to have sex with a creature as desirable as she? Despite their pain, they found her ministrations arousing. The kiss was incredible; her voluptuous lips pressed warmly on the trembling male lips, her tongue probing deeply, aggressively; the gentle suction was literally taking his breath away. His member engorged with blood and started to rise. Soon, however, he was fighting for air and trying to disengage his mouth from hers, but she gripped his head in one of her hands, immobilizing it. He beat against her with his hands but it was like beating an iron sculpture; it hurt him but had no effect on the virago who was dominating him. Her lung capacity was immense, but his alas was no match. He swooned limply and she rolled him off the others with a plop to the ground.

"Gee guys, your friend sure isn't much of a kisser. Just when I was getting into it too!" The other two rolled their eyes anxiously. What was happening, here? They had to get away form this crazy bitch! Despite their painful ribs they struggled to escape, but it merely seemed to get them in worse trouble. She maneuvered one so that his head was wedged high up between her legs. Panicked, he moved his head to and fro. "Ooh, yes! fight it! struggle!" She bit her lip from the pleasurable sensations.

The other conscious one found his head trapped against her breasts, held in place by one of her hands and superstrong arms. She was rubbing him against her turgid breasts, the nipples rigid with arousal. Twice he poked his sweat-streaked eyes against their bullet-like solidity. Nearly blind and fighting for breath, he too was stimulating her against his will. Finally he bit her but that only meant more pain for him as she squeezed with both hands against his neck. His mouth flew open and she plunged it down on one of her nipples. "Suck or I'll snap your neck." She increased the pressure and he sucked. "Lick" He licked. She went rigid with her first orgasm and clasping the men too tightly in their embraces, she smothered them unconscious as she spasmed in ecstasy.

Patiently, she waited for them to stir.

"Now a contest to see who will get to enter me! The winner is the longest to hold out without ejaculating. Who will be my stud?" She had them caress, stroke, massage her incredible curves. Lightly she touched them, excited them by rubbing her breasts lightly over faces, torsos, rigid cocks. She rubbed her thighs, calves, and hips teasingly close to their palpitating cocks. One was forced to suck her nether region while the others sucked her voluptuous breasts, licked her abdomen, arms, shoulders, legs. They were servicing her simultaneously as she reclined regally against a hillock in the grove. At first she had held them physically in place as they struggled to escape (this madwoman!), but as they were forced to please her they found themselves becoming excited as well and fell under a sexual spell that bound them to her in slavish devotion. Their only thought was to have more contact, more pleasure. They each wanted to be the privileged stud. The four of them were racked with ragged breathing, building to a crescendo. Without her ever having touched their members or allowing them to do so either, they soon climaxed in gushing fountains of hot semen one after another, and then found themselves riding a raging mare as she climaxed volcanically, crunching their overmatched bodies in painful embraces. She exulted in knowing that they could control themselves no longer than a few minutes and had erupted without touching their members. They were utterly within her power!

She anointed the winner by threading on a condom and commanded him to plunge into her to the hilt. The other two were forced to lick up the profuse semen that had spurted onto her body. Their slavish tongues provided her immense pleasure as she forced them to cover every inch of her voluptuous body. She recalled the arrogant jocks that they had been earlier in the evening. How the falsely crowned had fallen!

The one who had been allowed to enter her began to doubt his prowess as she demanded "harder, deeper!" and found his member being pulverized by the squeezing of her love muscles. The constriction of first legs and then just her hot, moist, powerful cunt caused him to strain his utmost to move at all. He was covered in sweat and gasping for breath. Soon he slumped in exhaustion. "Some he-man. And I thought you basketball jocks were supposed to have such stamina!"

"Come on, one of you others! I've got to have it! Replace this dud!" But the same happened to each of them in turn. It was one of her favorite tricks. A man humbled in this way could not doubt that her rightful place was on top, as if they ever had a choice! So she mounted the last one, still hugely erect as he sagged limply on top of the others heaped below. She pumped viciously, crushing his balls. In panic he felt his penis ripped to and fro. She came and, despite the abuse of his member, he did too. And still she continued to pump. It was so painful that he feared she had done permanent damage to this member. And still she pumped. He babbled like a baby and finally passed out. The others were treated the same.

Finally satiated, she put on her long shirt, and rose to leave. She felt invigorated; they were flaccid in complete exhaustion. They reminded her of the deflated basketball she had ruined on the court: worthless, empty carcasses. She revelled in her superiority; it was the kick that kept her building a more and more perfect physique--to vanquish men at any activity. Alas, it was almost too easy anymore. Even these THREE "tough" males were no match at all.

Suddenly, she smiled mischievously; she would give them one last demonstration to remember her by. Emerging from the bushes that have hidden them, she strode toward the large boulder where her money lay. After stashing the money in her shirt, she hefted the boulder aloft and carried it to the fallen men. Lowering it to the ground and removing her shirt once again, she faced the men, who watched her with apprehensive, leaden eyes. Now what? She hefted the boulder to chest level and, then for their benefit, slowly pressed it skyward. Every muscle was etched in the golden silhouette created by the moonlight, and as she continued to pump the weight up and down, the muscles expanded even further to terrifying dimensions. Had she still been wearing her halter top, it would have ripped apart from the expansion of her chest.

"Remember how TWO of you wimps could barely budge this little rock? What do you think about girls now? A little too much muscle for ya, huh?" Gloriously nude and glistening with perspiration, she was a picture of raw animal power, and at the same time, her feet arched in the delicate shoes bespoke of raw sexual attraction. Sure enough, the men were sporting erections, pathetically feeble and rubbery after the abuse they had suffered. Menacingly, she advanced on them; they impotently screamed and attempted to crawl out of her way.

She lowered the weight to the ground and laughed uproariously at their final humiliation. They knew that she could end their lives without the slightest exertion. They were as helpless as worms, and, due to her overpowering vitality, they were at that moment as limp as worms. Gone was any trace of their former macho swaggering.

She shredded their clothes as they watched, timorously pressed against tree trunks. She removed their money and drivers' licenses. "Now, I expect that money and I'll be COLLECTING!" She threw their folded keys in a heap and dropped the boulder roughly over them. In her mind's eye, she could picture their pathetic struggles to lift it or even roll it. Naked and tortured with the pain of their broken bones, they might never manage it. She doubted they would even make it out of the park before the sun rose and they were forced to explain their humiliating condition.

Wrapping her shirt loosely around her, she sauntered majestically away, the image of sexual perfection, matchless grace, and ultrapowerful physique. She was a modern amazon, invincible to mere men. Man's only role was to serve her--if she deigned to allow him the privilege--and to amuse her with his fervent, but oh so pathetic, efforts to best her at ANY endeavor and then grovel in her wake as she left in triumph.

(1993) [The End]

That's all, nothing "new" anymore, nor different from that you can find on the DtV webarchive page.
I may post all the other Jack Straw's stories I have saved but I prefer to know if someone is interested or not.

Last but not least: thanks JS for his great work but feel also free to give Karma and comments.

[elgat]

OK, provided that this topic had more than 1200 views I'll post more of Jack Straw stories, formerly on DtV library.

First some of the most significant ones:

Emancipation of the Old Gym by Jack Straw,  part 1

They strode confidently into the dilapidated old gym, where the local
gang held sway.  No one else in the neighborhood dared walk in; what
went on there was a dark mystery to the rest of the terrified community. 
It was reputedly a vicious gang.  Initiation seemed to be open only to
young, brawny men in their late teens or older.  They extorted from
merchants in the community, but they were never identified.  Police
hauled some of them in for questioning but never got anywhere.  The gym
was their lair.  Women were excluded; even girl friends of the gang
leaders never entered. 

Hence, all eyes immediately fixed on these two as they swept into the
cavernous room.  They looked like streetwalkers, but the men had never
seen them before.  One wore a miniskirt that showed off beautifully
formed, deeply tanned, smooth legs, and a light blouse that only
partially covered her large bust.  The other's legs were wrapped in a
long, slit skirt that offered teasing glimpses of equally sexy gams,
while her flaring torso was clad in a loose sweater that revealed
immense, high-riding breasts separated by a breathtakingly deep
cleavage.  Their beautiful faces were enhanced by meticulously applied
makeup and each swayed gracefully on delicate high-heeled shoes.  So
obviously attired to arouse the macho in the male, yet their regal
bearing momentarily held the men speechless -- but only momentarily.

Smilingly acknowledging the wolf whistles, the slightly shorter of the
two women, the one in the miniskirt, sauntered her ultrasexy bod
purposefully over to the tallest guy in the room, who was noisily
curling a barbell with both arms and breathing heavily from the
exertion.  Perspiration covered his naked torso and enhanced the
sculpted ridges of his muscular body.    "Hey, Jim, who's your girl
friend?  Can we ALL share?"  He stared but could not remember having
seen her before.  As he lowered the heavy weight and raised up, he was
suddenly face to face with the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. 
Honey blond hair, lovely tanned face, and eyes that burned with healthy
vitality.  Even in her heels, she had to look up to view his face, as
she appraised him challengingly. He suddenly felt weak-kneed with
desire, dazed with the privilege of being near her. 

She placed her muscular, bare, oh-so-delectable leg on the barbell and
thrust her face alluringly close to his.  His head was swimming from
being this close to such a creature.  Her face was his entire world.
"Why don't we put some real weight on this thing?"  she said throatily. 
"It's much too light for a good workout."  He was charged with sexual
arousal; she could have said anything and he would have done it. 
Dreamily, he watched as she crouched down and snatched up the barbell
with one hand and, with a look of pure animal sexuality, curled it with
the same one arm.  "Don't you think?"  He gawked, blinked, and jerked
his head.  What was going on?  She grasped his hand and placed it on her
bicep, still hidden by the sleeves of her blouse.  It felt huge!  She
moved the hand to her breasts popping out with the curling motion of her
arm.  They were huge, firm, and the nipples were rock hard. His face
flushed, his breathing became ragged, and his heart raced. His rigid
cock had escaped his jock strap and, leaking pre-cum, it was threatening
to peek through the bottom of the short shorts he liked to wear.  She
saw the signs of his arousal in his face and a wet spot on his tented
shorts, and pulled his head with her free hand so that their lips
touched. Instinctively he tried to resist but could not, even though she
still held the barbell with her other hand.  As she literally sucked the
breath out of him, she folded her voluptuous contours against him,
rubbed her bare thigh along his upper leg, and trapped his raging member
against his hairy skin.  The tip of his cock grazed her hot velvety skin
and rock hard thigh muscles.  And suddenly, he spasmed out of control,
soaking the inside of his shorts.  She patted him on the head like an
inept child or a pet.  "Today is your lucky day, kiddo," she whispered. 
"I'm going to spare you if you let me. Go on home now, before the sparks
start to fly."

Distracted by witnessing the spell that this powerful, sexy witch had
spun on the tall youth, the men had not noticed that the other lovely
woman had gathered together as much weight as she could on a sturdy
barbell.  But, as she started to heft it to her chest, still clad in the
clothes she had worn into the gym, the largest and strongest of the men,
the acknowledged enforcer of the gang, suddenly boomed out, "Hey, don,t
hurt yourself baby, let me show you how its done!" 

This girl obviously was looking for a champion to rescue her; she
couldn't be serious -- she hadn't even taken off those flimsy shoes. 
And even he wouldn't risk lifting that much weight without a spotter! 
As he swaggered over, though, he was astonished to see that she HAD
lifted it to her awesome chest, riveting his gaze on its now even more
immense dimensions as it rippled with the movement of her arms.  Without
seeming difficulty, she was holding what appeared to be an enormous
amount of weight.  But it couldn't be that much: she was so gorgeous and
so delectably FEMALE!  The corded ridges on her exposed forearms belied
her obvious muscularity if he wanted to notice, but he was conditioned
not to notice. He was sure she was playing some sort of illusionary
trick.

As he stopped in front of her, the puzzled behemoth reached for the
barbell.  He was clearly heavier and taller than the large woman, and
the muscles on his large arms, shoulders, and chest rippled under his
tight T-shirt as he moved.  Amused at his vapid macho demeanor, she
spoke for the first time, in a low, musical, come-hither voice,  "Sure,
big guy, show little ol' me how its done.  I want to see those big
muscles of yours."

She handed the barbell to him slowly.  He didn't notice the tenting of
the large sleeves of her sweater as her arm muscles bulged in the
process, but he did notice and appreciate the expansion of her awesomely
out-thrust mammaries.  Then as he gripped it firmly with both hands, she
let go completely.  He felt as if his hands had been ripped from his
arms as the weight plunged to the floor, carrying his shoulders, head
and torso with it.  The weight clanged as it hit the mat.  He crumpled
in pain from his wounded groin, and his nose banged into the mat as he
landed on the fallen weight. The girl giggled musically, "So that's how
it's done!"

A circle of normally macho street toughs surrounded the taunting vixen
and their monstrous enforcer, now sprawled ignominiously on the floor,
but instead of threatening her, they gazed in frozen stupefaction as,
with two deft motions, she dropped her skirt and shrugged off her
sweater.  Involuntarily, the assembled men gasped in unison as the
rippling musculature of her body startled and intimidated them even as
it aroused them with its feminine allure, now clad only in sexy, satiny,
lacy underwear. The red, delicate fabric emphasized her flawless deep
tan, the amazing dimensions of her voluptuous curves, and bespoke of
volcanic sensuality. They had never seen such a muscular physique, nor
such exaggerated sexual contours.  Some were lustfully riveted by the
sexual perfection erotically displayed in this way, while others blinked
in shock at musculature that made them feel puny and emasculated. 

She positioned her arched feet on either side of the groggy behemoth
limply splayed out face down on the mat with his crotch resting on the
bar of the barbell.  "Poor, baby, let me help you up," the nearly nude
amazon mocked the injured gang leader.  Cabled muscles in her sexily
trim steely abdomen bunched in unison under taut skin and thigh muscles
exploded into awesome relief as she bent down, grasped the huge weight,
and slowly straightened her broad rippling back and powerful legs.  The
monstrous gang leader draped across the bar felt himself sweep into the
air along with the massive weight.  The bulging of her stupendous 
thighs and flexed hip muscles strained her bewitching panties until they
ripped at the sides.  She merely smiled coyly and batted her eyes at the
sexy image she was projecting, as her iron-hard buns exploded through
the shards of the delicate, red panties that now revealed the bushy
fount of her sex.

The startled gang leader suddenly found it difficult to breath. He
looked like a bulky garment folded over a huge hanger.  She had
straightened her back and legs completely and, to the amazement of her
mesmerized audience, began to curl the huge weight with large bouncer
draped across it.  A loud grunt escaped the bouncer's lips as his weight
shifted entirely to the hinge between his torso and legs and his
remaining breath was expelled.  Despite his violent kicking and
twisting, she continued lifting.  Her face darkened with the exertion
and the overburdened lacy cups of her brassiere disintegrated in tatters
and then the straining straps snapped as bulging pectoral muscles thrust
the firm torpedo-like breasts through the ripped fabric. The assembled
men glimpsed the seat of her sex briefly before their champion's head
came to rest in the cleft between her tan, cabled legs.  Unfortunately
for him, he had twisted his head upward in his angry struggles so that
when she clamped her mighty legs together, his face was wedged upward in
her steamy crotch and his neck was wound at an excruciating angle.  He
yelped in agony as she squeezed her legs together so that the already
terrifying girth expanded further and each band of muscle threatened to
explode through her skin.  Simultaneously, she lifted the weight and the
rest of his body up against her immense chest.  The astounding display
of raw brute strength and incredible balance dazed the incredulous males
encircling her.  The gang leader felt his back arch backwards and his
neck stretch to the breaking point and, strain as he might to stop her
from bending further, he was powerless to stop it.  Wedged between her
legs, he was enveloped in darkness, adding to his panic.  The muscles in
his arms bulged into relief as he alternately beat on her steely thighs
and tried to pry them apart.  His back muscles rippled with his
desperate efforts. But his once-proud muscles had no effect on her; they
now seemed puny compared with those of his mighty female captor.  His
back was saved from breaking only because the thrust of her bosom was so
preposterously immense.  Slowly, calmly, she lowered him and repeated
the curling motion.  The granite-hard ridges of her arm muscles exploded
in terrifyingly huge, engorged peaks as she reached the apex of each
lift.  She smiled mockingly at the stupefied men around her and goaded
the agonizing monster she was toying with. 

"I think THIS is how its done little BOY.  You shouldn't play with
things that are too BIG for you."  As she continued to curl the barbell
and its impotent male cargo, she relaxed her hold on his head
sufficiently that he could breathe and twist his head slightly.  He
babbled and screamed at the pain and humiliation, and, finally, pleaded
to be released.  The movement of his face pressed against her mount of
pleasure was stimulating her sexually.  "Ooh, baby, that feels so good! 
You certainly have a talented nose!" she goaded.  The whole situation
gave her an erogenous thrill, as it always did to bring down a silly
male braggart and confront him with her superiority, mentally,
physically, or sexually.  "Show me what a good little boy you can be and
I'll let you go.  Press that big mouth of yours up as high as you can
and give me a big kiss."

Mad with his predicament and her taunting, he struggled with all his
might, but she clamped down even harder than before and lifted the
barbell up over her chest.  His neck and back cracked audibly.  When she
relaxed again and he wailed in agony, she said, "Now are you ready to
behave?  Ooh, that's it -- kiss me there and put that tongue to work,
too.  Ooh, yeah, with a little practice you might be of some use to a
lady after all."  The assembled men were befuddled, sharing sheepishly
in their leader's humiliation.  To have helped him before would have
caused him to lose face.  Now it was too late.  He was hopelessly
degraded, brought down by a WOMAN; their chauvinism still wanted to deny
what was happening.  But she was not finished with him:  "Now, admit to
your pals, here, that you are a weakling.  That WOMEN ARE THE SUPERIOR
SEX AND MEN ARE THE WEAKER SEX.  Say it!"  Blubbering with pain and
humiliation, his nose and mouth inundated with her copious intoxicating
secretions, he weakly uttered muffled sounds.  "That's not good enough!"
she said menacingly as she gave him a jolt of her squeezing power.   
This time he bellowed out, "Women are superior.  Men are the weaker
sex," as loudly as his weakened condition would allow. 

Cruelly, she clamped down on him again and slowly curled the weight a
few more times.  Soon he passed out from the strain and lack of air. 
Readjusting her grip on the bar, she pressed the weight and the
exhausted, wet-faced male high above her head.  The last shreds of her
panties and bra split away to reveal the huge breasts and etched muscles
exploded in mountainous ridges.  The remains of her panties were like an
exotically minuscule loin cloth or G string, which gave her the
appearance of the primeval, all-powerful, goddess of strippers.  The
beautiful long legs swelled in delicious ridges of feminine contours
that were exotically enhanced by the sleek fragile lines of her high-
heeled shoes and the awesome bulging of her calves as they sustained the
arching of her feet.  Her pumped-up muscles dwarfed those of their
former champion limply draped over the barbell.  As she slowly lowered
and then pressed upward the weight and male, her undeniable superiority
over any male was clear to all, not to mention her overpowering sexual
attraction. [continue...]

[elgat]

Emancipation of the Old Gym  by Jack Straw,  part 2

[...continued]
Having made her point, she dropped the barbell and its load to the mat.
Putting her hands on her hips, she flexed her awesome physique in an
unspoken statement of calm invincibility.  She fixed each pair of
incredulous male eyes with a look that dared them to challenge her. 
Each male in turn palpably backed away and looked down, an unspoken
admission that their macho facade had been punctured.  "There are going
to be some changes around here.  We're giving this gym back to the
neighborhood you stole it from," she announced calmly.  When one of them
frowned, she stared challengingly at him until he looked away.  "You
will not be welcome here unless you change your behavior.  Your gang is
DEAD; THEY are witness to that."  She pointed toward the door of the
gym.  Some of the girls and young women of the neighborhood had entered. 
The gang members clenched their jaws; this was too much.  "This is a new
era, guys.  Macho swaggering doesn't get it.  You don't impress anybody
any more with these silly boy games of bluff and counter bluff.  It's
got to be real, and you have to work at it, like THIS," she said
pointing at her huge right biceps as she flexed it into terrifying
ridges. "Not like those puny little male lumps of jelly you call muscles
or those little muscles between your legs."  The girls from the
neighborhood tittered merrily. Suddenly the gang members realized that
they were being lectured by a naked woman who was surrounded by ten
young, healthy males, some with weapons in their pockets, males who were
used to assaulting any woman who talked back to them or flaunted her
body.  They were not going to let their girlfriends and former
girlfriends see them bested by a chick who had not a stitch of clothing
on her sexy body, no matter how powerful that body might be.  This was
THEIR turf, THEY had the numbers, THEY had the weapons -- that's the way
it worked around here. She was going to be one sorry lady when this was
over. "Come on guys, lets get this bitch!"

As they rushed her, she became a blur of motion.  The first to reach her
was jerked off his feet and swung at the others like a club.  Others
were incapacitated by single devastating punches to ribs, guts, or
heads.  Ribs were crunched in mighty squeezes of her arms and legs. 
Male limbs and joints broke in unequal hand-to-hand combat.  As fewer
combatants rose to challenge her, she amused herself by allowing them to
sprain their wrists, injure their hands, or crack their ankles by
furious punches and kicks at her steely body.  It was always a thrill to
see the shock on the face of a mere male when his best efforts destroyed
him but affected her not at all.  It was especially thrilling, indeed a
sexual kick, when the males considered themselves invincible tough guys,
like these pathetic morons.  The other amazon, the one in the sexy
miniskirt, who had been largely forgotten, was content to hurl back into
the fray those who tried to escape and to disarm any who reached for
weapons.  Soon it was over.  Tangled bodies of defeated males lay heaped
together.  The two victorious amazons systematically went from one to
the other of the downed males, ripped off their clothes and ground the
inferior male bodies to pulps in vice-like embraces of their mighty
female bodies, or lifted them high in the air and then cracked their
vertebrae by dropping them over thighs of female steel.  They were so
superior that they could do what they wanted with these pathetic
wretches, could rip off their limbs and easily kill if they wanted. 
Still, the beatings were clinical, professional: none of the overmatched
males would end up as paraplegics but it would be a long time before any
would be physically capable of their former macho swaggering and,
mentally, they would never recover.  As they approached the last three
goons, moaning and twisting in pain, the big nude amazon waved off her
partner.  These were among the older and brawnier gang members.  She had
noticed their lustful stares earlier and decided to amuse herself with
them.

Dragging them by the hair, she arranged them like the spokes of wheel:
heads together -- feet pointed outward.  "Spread your arms and legs out
and keep your eyes on me.  Move a limb and I'll rip it off," she
commanded.  Drawing herself up to full, imperious height, she proceeded
to step over the torso of each trembling male, deliberately flexing her
chiseled legs and clicking her heels loudly, as she paced in a slow
circle among them.  Instinctively, they flinched with each stride she
took and fought the urge to cover their limp penises and curl in fetal
balls.  From their lowly positions, she towered above them, a pillar of
invincible, deadly strength.  She revelled in their fear; it was always
like this when macho pride was punctured by the reality of female
superiority.

Now for the second show.  For their benefit, she rubbed the slick
perspiration over the voluptuous contours of her powerful, sexy body. 
She glistened with animal vitality.  She thrust out her massive,
perfectly shaped breasts, simultaneously constricting her corded
midriff, giving her torso a sculpted, fantastically exaggerated hour
glass shape.  They were hypnotized by the bobbing and weaving of her
darkly tanned globes as she roughed up her thick auburn hair with her
fingers, her huge biceps seeming to dance in sync with the large-nippled
areolas.  Her body was astounding, imposing, intimidating, unassailable,
and oh so delectable!  There was just so much of it in all the right
places!  She noted with satisfaction as their puny sex prongs stirred,
engorged, and then bobbed in rigid agitation, as their brains became
jumbled with competing signals of fear and lust.

She exulted in their disappointed looks, as she stepped away, wrapped
her skirt around her, pulled on her stretchy cardigan sweater, and
buttoned it at the bottom.  Twirling their underwear on her finger, she
forced them to confront the humiliating condition in which she had
placed them:  they had been denuded by a female so sexy that she had
them almost creaming on themselves, but so powerful that TEN of them
could not bring her down.  Their erections drooped pathetically.    She
laughed throatily, "Oh, you guys are so much fun!  I'm going to make you
a proposition.  Just imagine what it would be like to have sex with me: 
your faces buried in these breasts," she cupped their imposing girth
suggestively through her open sweater, "or between these legs,"  she
thrust a muscular, sexy leg through the slit in her skirt and coursed up
its arousing length with both hands, "or up here," she traced one finger
up to the naked bush.  The mens' penises were once again raging and they
were breathing raggedly in arousal. "Just imagine plunging your puny
little dicks into my love pot.  Just imagine it squeezing and squeezing,
all hot and juicy, milking all you've got and then grinding it to a
pulp."  She smiled as the last image went home and noted that their
arousal continued unabated.  "So here's the deal.  Show me that you can
keep it up and hard for a long, long time.  My men have to last: if you
can keep from spurting your jism all over your wimpy bodies, I'll let
you go free or maybe take you home and let you please me.  But somehow I
don't think you can.  I think you're all little sissy boys looking for a
big mamma to beat you up and rape you. So what are you; MEN that can
please a woman or LITTLE SISSY BOYS who mess on themselves?" 

She had seated herself on the turgid member of one of the
discombobulated gang members, arranging her skirt so that his erection
was trapped between the moist, hot, bare skin of one of her large iron-
hard buns and his convulsing diaphragm.  She massaged it by gyrating her
hips and smiled gloatingly as his face shifted between terror and
ecstasy.  He was being degraded in front of girls from the neighborhood
who knew him, but was powerless to stop it.  She lifted his head so that
he could see them gawking at his humbling ordeal.  She turned to look
also.  One of the girls looked disgusted; she suspected that it was his
girl friend.  This was the type of woman who measured her value by
serving as a trophy for the man who won her by terrorizing other men. 
The amazon riding her former champion despised such women.  She
viciously bent his neck and pulled the face of the now pathetic wimp
into the cleft between her breasts, all the while looking contemptuously
at the woman.  It was as if the face of this woman was being rubbed in
the spineless jelly that her man was revealed to be.  She noted some
other jealous looks, but most were amused; some gaped in open adoration
of this all-conquering heroine.  Suddenly, the man became rigid in the
throes of impending orgasm.  The colossal woman rose gracefully and,
hands on hips, victoriously placed the sole of one shoe on his bobbing
member and pressed down. The man came in violent spurts along his chest
and stomach.  He wanted to hide himself away from the tittering
amusement of the female audience, but, even in his mortal shame, did not
move, such was his fear of the powerful woman who had brought him to
this shameful condition.  The girls were shocked to see tears coursing
down the face of this vicious thug that they had so feared.  Remembering
her proposition, he tensed his body for an impending attack.  But his
beautiful, powerful tormentor stepped over him and moved to the next
victim.

She flopped her crotch squarely down on the second man's face.  "Your
friend didn't fare so well, did he?  I guess he really is a little sissy
boy. How about you?  Are you man enough to take me on, push me down,
force yourself on me?  Or would you rather kiss me right there and serve
me?"  she taunted, rubbing her tush on his face.  She slowly traced the
fingers of one hand backwards along his chest toward his half-hard
penis.  Then she ran her hands seductively through her flowing auburn
locks and ran them down her chest, cupping her breasts in his face, and
continuing the journey of her hands down her perfect body to her smooth,
bulging thighs and calves.  Now as she reached back, his member was
rigid as she lightly ran her fingers along its veined contours. "Well, I
guess you can't help yourself, can you?  You want some of this!"
Violently, she humped against him and squeezed his head viciously with
her legs. "Now suck, boy, lick; be of SOME USE in this world."  Caught
in her constricting vice, he did as he was told.  She grabbed his hands
and ran them over her huge, firm breasts and erect nipples.  He did so
worshipfully, but as he began to delight in the opportunity, she put his
hands back on the floor.  Despite being used in this degrading manner,
he neared orgasm, realizing that she was becoming aroused herself and
feeling pride in being of service to a creature as perfect and masterful
as she.  He who had never thought of a woman's pleasure before was now
reduced to measuring HIS value in how well he served her, even as she
brutalized his nose and mouth and tongue by violently mashing him
against her. It was not that he was doing her; rather she was using him
and the sensations and his abject subjugation were driving her over the
edge.  He desperately wanted not to come, to have a chance to be
swallowed again and again by her incredibly arousing body; he dug his
fingers into his palms, using the pain to fight his arousal.

The third man saw that she had closed her eyes in pleasure and jumped to
his feet to escape, but before had taken a step he found his arm in the
crushing grip of one of her powerful hands.  With one curling arm she
brought him back to where she stood astride the young man whose slavish
ministrations had been interrupted.  "My, now, that was a mistake,
wasn't it?" she cooed to the would-be escapee.  She wrapped the now
terrified, sobbing man in a crushing embrace.  "Now you're going to miss
out on all this."  She released him with one arm and shrugged off her
sweater and skirt.  Seductively, she caressed his trembling body and
then ran his hands along her powerful, voluptuous contours.  Along
bulging biceps, deep pectorals, huge springy mammaries, down perfect
legs, she guided him.  Despite his trembling, he erected.  She clasped
him once again in a tight embrace, trapping his erection against the
smooth granite of her midriff.  She could feel it palpitate there and
smugly grinned at him.  Simultaneously, she ran one of her feet lightly
along the erect penis of the obediently supine man who had been serving
her, now spellbound by this second complete unveiling of her perfect
body.  She placed her hands under the buttocks of the third man and
lifted him slowly up and down, massaging his raging hard-on against her
rock-hard abdomen.  He erupted in spurt after spurt as she stopped her
massaging motion and slowly constricted her steely arms.  She turned to
face the other two men.  Her immense, expanding chest forced his upper
torso backward, placing shattering pressure on his yielding back, as her
hard, erect nipples burrowed painfully into his imploding chest.  Her
arms bulged as ribs cracked sickeningly and the man screamed in agony. 
She folded him in half backwards over her bent leg, causing more
cracking and bellowing.  Viciously she broke each knee by bending his
legs the way nature never intended.  As he twitched in agony, she lifted
him high over her head and simply dropped him to the floor where he
flopped unconscious.  The first humiliated man had lain rooted to the
spot in absolute horror, but to her merriment, the second was spurting
come all over himself in uncontrollable spasms that shook his entire
body.  This extreme display of raw, brutal power had somehow aroused him
so much that, despite his zeal to prevent it, he had come without being
touched.

She lifted the two conscious men by the backs of their necks and
commanded them to lap up the semen that the third man had deposited on
her.  Their thorough attention to detail was so arousing that she
obtained a measure of sexual release.  But she was becoming bored. 
These guys were no longer of any challenge.  Her exhibitionist
tendencies had been satiated.  She had demonstrated her strength and the
pumped-up nude glory of her body in lifting more weight than any three
or four men in the room, defeated the whole lot of them in bare-handed
combat, and converted three of them into her personal sexual fountains. 
One had even started to love it.  And then, of course, the original
mission was a complete success.  Maybe she had even convinced a few of
the assembled girls to take control of their lives, and shown that they
could rule men with something other than sexual favors, in fact they
could demand favors of their own if they dedicated themselves to
building their bodies to their true potential.  Yes, this was becoming a
bore. These feebs hadn't even been tough enough to prod her into a
crushing, dismembering, full-fledged rape of one or another that she
often used to prove the ultimate frailty of the male and her absolute
superiority. They must have been overrated, or ... maybe she really was
that good.  It was time to move on. 

"You know, you guys are just too obedient."  Shifting her grip on them
so that each of her arms encircled one of their torsos and pressed their
faces into her colossal boobs, she flexed mightily.  Despite their
frantic struggles as she crushed another two sets of ribs, they could
not free their faces sufficiently to breathe and soon became limp.  She
opened her arms and let them slide unconscious down her legs.

She looked around to see her partner emerge from the seedy locker room,
where she could see a tall youth sprawled on the floor exhausted and
holding his worn-out genitals.  Once she had seen that the war was over
and her partner was cleaning up in her normal manner, the miniskirted
one had spied the handsome youth she had teased earlier still leaning
against a wall, impassively viewing the destruction of men he despised. 
She had sauntered slowly over to him and saw that he still was in her
spell, still aroused, ripe for the taking. Crouching slightly, she had
grasped him gently but masterfully and tossed him over one of her broad
shoulders and carried him into the locker room, thinking that maybe this
would be a good night after all. As she approached her partner, who was
once again donning her long skirt and sweater and stuffing the tattered
remains of her underwear in a pocket, she hummed softly and walked a
little bowlegged.  "You, know, Kate, one of these times you're going to
get shot." 

"Not as long as you're watching my back.  Sometimes I sense you're not
doing that, though," she said looking in the direction of the locker
room. "Besides, bullets just might bounce off me.  Well, I think I'll
grab a steak and pick up a couple of football players to ravage.  I'm
hungry!"

FROM              THE AMAZONS ARENA BBS         702-243-7723/8982/9897

More shall soon follow, I hope you enjoyed what you may read so far.