Echoes from the Past (JPECHO#1)

Jim Priest is beaten up and dominated by an older woman.

I wanted to set the story arc back on track hence the tone of the story. Jean is based upon a real person – she was a secretary at the first place where I worked. Many years later I saw her quite regularly around town looking like a grumpy old woman but still with a fantastic bust line and a powerful pair of calves. The Dragon is based on a well known person now in the Royal Family

The following story may contain descriptions of sex and violence. If you are offended by this or if you are under the legal age of consent in your country do not read on.
(c)JIM P 1996
“For two risings of the moon, we tracked the fall of the war goddess. She blazed a trail of fire across the dark heavens in her chariot. Descending to the hills in the East, she lit up the sky with all her glory.

We went in search of the goddess, fighting all those that came in our path. They fought us hard, they fought us well, but in the end all succumbed to the warriors of the tribe.

At last we came to the place where the goddess had came. All around the trees lay fallen and black as though she had smote them with her fists. The air burned hot with her breath, the goddess was near. Some of the warriors fell to their knees in fear, others fled like women. One-Eye and myself berated those who grovelled in the dirt. Forward we drove the warriors of the tribe onwards with our spears.”

“I’m sorry that’s as far as I’ve got so far” the balding white-haired man with glasses said as he looked up from his notes. Professor Maurice Dupont was an expert on ancient languages and a friend of Sir Humphrey Symthe- Jones. “It’s very archaic. Some of the symbols are almost illegible” he told us “at a guess I would say it dates from around 50 BC”. “How long will it take to decipher the rest?” I asked. “Oh, another hour or so I should imagine” he replied. I needed to stretch my legs and get a bit of fresh air.

I left the office and wandered along the corridors. Buying a cup of scalding hot coffee from a vending machine I went down the stairs and out into the courtyard of the historic university buildings. As I wandered around the campus I reflected over recent events, trying to make some sense of it all.

Due to a run-in with my mother in-law [JIMP#13], I had discovered a walled up area in the cellar of Bristledown Manor. With the help of Sir Humphrey’s bodyguard Mike, we opened up the wall and found a large trunk. Inside were a number of Indian looking artefacts, some manuscripts and an old leather bound diary bearing the gold embossed
initials G.S.J.

“That would my great grandfather Lord Gerald Symthe-Jones. He was an explorer, you know, went to India during Queen Victoria’s reign” Sir Humphrey told us. One item immediately caught my eye, an ebony statue of an Indian goddess whose many hands held instruments of war. I had seen the same image on necklaces worn by at least three amazon women I had encountered. Sir Humphrey insisted on cataloguing the artefacts, he being somewhat of an avid collector. I drew his attention to the goddess but he confessed that he had never seen anything like it before. He also insisted that he have the privilege of being the first to read through the diary. I emphasised the need to keep this find to ourselves for the time being to avoid drawing unwanted attention.

Nevertheless, this manuscript caught our eye. It was undoubtedly the oldest written in some sort of Asian hieroglyph and also very fragile. I suggested that we should get this treated quickly before we handled it too much. Thus I found myself at Cambridge with Sir Humphrey and Mike while Professor Dupont treated the document and began the slow process of translation.

I returned to the courtyard and stood for a while gazing across it letting my mind drift before I returned to the professor’s stuffy office. Isn’t it funny how sometimes you can sense you are being watched ?.

I turned around in time to catch sight of a mature woman, probably in her late 50s or 60s, and under 5 foot tall staring at me. She had a pale but heavily made up oval shaped face with a short slender nose and a small but firmly set mouth. Her short curly hair was dyed an auburn colour yet failed to conceal strands of grey. Her small sharp piercing grey eyes glared at me as if to chastise me from looking at her. Certainly she had something to look at, she wasn’t that bad looking and had a slender hourglass figure with a big chest that stuck out like two torpedoes in a tight low cut cream blouse, undoubtedly assisted by some ingenious invention of the lingerie industry.

She averted her gaze and entered the building. Although she was short, she tottered about on extremely high heeled shoes. Slender ankles rose from those shoes and tapered into power-packed balls of calve muscle. Each calve was graced with a deep diamond shaped cleft at the bottom and shone healthily enhancing their sensuality. I love women with muscular calves, I think they are so sexy. Unable to break the habit of a lifetime, I decided to follow her just so I could watch the double diamonds which stood like rocky outcrops on the backs of her legs. They bulged and flexed as she tottered ahead of me. I was unable to take my eyes off them.

She began to climb the stairs. I followed close behind, her well defined calves performing a sensual dance of power that called out to my loins. Her grey tight knee-length skirt clung to the backs of her legs as she climbed, giving the impression of strong tendons of the back of her legs. I wished that I could see the rest of her legs to see if there were as well muscled as her calves.

She reached the first floor and tottered off down the same corridor as the professor’s office. I had to slow down a bit since she seemed unable to move very fast with those high heels. The way she walked seemed strange, maybe it was the heels or maybe she was bow legged or something.

The woman disappeared into an office on the right. As I walked past, I stole a glance and saw her glaring at me. I walked on to the end of the corridor and back into the professor’s stuffy old office.

“From out of nowhere, the demons attacked. They were big, strong, built like warriors yet smooth skinned and with breasts like women. Many warriors faltered, were these women that were attacking us?, we cannot fight women. Their hesitation was their demise as the demons impaled them upon their spears. The she-devils fought like warriors yet seemed like women, what kind of devilry of the goddess was this?. I was fallen by a demon and we wrestled on the rocky ground. It’s smooth warm body and breasts tricked my loins, it’s strength was surprising.

Surely this was no woman, it’s arms were too thick and strong, almost a match for me the strongest of the tribe. The demon was tireless and skilful as we fought on the ground. Like a snake, the she-devil wrapped its huge legs about my waist and crushed me. It’s legs were as powerful as a stallions. I beat in vain at the monster as it’s beardless face laughed as it mighty thighs crushed me. I saw One-Eye as his head was devoured by the legs of another of the demons. I cried out to the gods, but none answered. The she-beast was too much for me and it crushed me into defeat.

A warrior should die in battle. Cruel are the gods. Alone I crawled like a worm to return to the tribe. Never again shall we go forth into the hills of the goddess. It is an evil place full of she-demons.”

“What does it mean?” Sir Humphrey asked. “No doubt some myth handed down through the generations until it got written down here” replied the Professor “some primitive tribe must have saw a falling meteorite and took it as a sign from the gods. They sent out a scouting party who got ambushed by another tribe”. “A tribe of amazons” I prompted. “I don’t think so” laughed the professor “a corruption in the tale as it came down through the centuries. Probably because the meteorite was associated with some goddess and the attackers appeared to come near where it fell, the primitives associated one with the other and thought they were being attacked by the goddess’s warriors. Through the years the association between warriors of the goddess became female warriors”.

For some reason I wasn’t convinced, the legend seemed too explicit on that score and I recalled the amazons I had encountered recently. I took out a photograph that I had taken of the statue we had found in the trunk and showed the professor. “Could this be the goddess?” I asked “an amazon goddess”. “Fascinating. Many early people had female warrior deities, Athena for example or the Valkyries. So I’m not all that surprised” the professor replied.

The professor wanted to run some tests on the manuscript to check its authenticity, its date and other things. I decided that it was time for another walk.

Leaving the office, I wandered along the corridor until I came to the vending machine. Putting in my money I made my selection: coffee, white, no sugar. Why is it that these machines give you boiling hot drinks in thin plastic cups that nearly burn a layer of skin off your fingers?.

I hung around the machine for a while allowing my drink to cool enough to be able to pick it up without the risk of second-degree burns. With cup in hand I wandered idly further down the corridor until I noticed a door marked “Departmental Office”. Risking a peak inside I found the woman I had seen earlier bending forward to put something in a filing cabinet. She had her back to me and so I had a marvellous view of those magnificent calves. As she bent forward, her skirt rose slightly giving me a glimpse of strong hamstrings. It was a very stimulating sight. Standing up, she turned around and saw me.

“What do you want?” she demanded. “I ur I was just admiring your calves” I told her “I think you’ve got beautifully muscled calves”. “A pervert eh?. Do you usually sneak up on women?” she replied. “N-No” I told her. “Find me attractive do you?” she asked in a stern no nonsense voice. “Ur well yes” I fumbled, actually she wasn’t too bad for her age however she was far too old for me but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

She moved close to me and stood before me with her legs astride and her hands on her hips. The fact that she was under 5 foot tall meant that I got a bird’s eye view right down the front of her blouse. A deep cleavage lying between two full rounded mounds of feminine flesh confronted me.

“You keep you filthy hands to yourself” she remarked sourly noticing my gaze. “I … ur … my name is Jim. I’m visiting Professor Dupont” I introduced myself. “Jean” she replied “not that it’s any of your business”. I ventured another look down her cleavage. She wore a necklace and I could see a glimmer of black but I could not make out whether it was a miniature version of the statue.

“That’s an interesting necklace” I told her “may I take a closer look”. I reached out to retrieve it where it nestled between her breasts but was pushed away by her hand. “I told you to keep you hands to yourself” she snarled. “I’ve seen quite a few like that. Tell me where you got it” I persisted. “It’s none of your business” she replied sternly. “You know
you are a very attractive woman. I’d really like to take you out to dinner this evening” I said trying a different approach. “Don’t be silly I’m much too old for you” she replied. “Age doesn’t make a difference. Please I’d really like to” I insisted. I never had much with women, usually if I’d got up the courage to ask one out she would laugh in my face. “Very well. I don’t know what you are up to but if it’s no good then you’ll be sorry” she said taking me totally by surprise. She gave me her address and we agreed that I would pick her up at seven.

For the next few hours I desperately racked my brains for a good plan. I really needed to make sure she had the goddess pendent on her necklace before I started grilling her, but how?. Some wining and dining was called for with lashings of charm, but then what ?. Should I try and seduce her ?, did I want to ?. She was much older than me but then she had a good chest and great calves. What if I found out that she didn’t have the necklace after I seduced her?. My mind was in turmoil and no matter how hard I thought, I couldn’t come up with a better plan.

Seven o’clock came around sooner than I hoped. I drove to the address that I was given, an ordinary looking mid-terraced house in an ordinary residential area. Parking the car at the side of the road, I walked across to the front door and rang the bell.

A light came on in the hallway and the clack clack clack of high heeled shoes on a wooden surface told me that I was at the right place. A woman’s head could just be made out on the other side of the frosted glass pane in the door and the sound of locks being undone. Jean opened the door, peering from behind it as it swung open. “About time too, come in” she snapped. Her face was heavily made-up with plenty of eyeliner, rouge and lipstick. I entered the hall and heard the door shut behind me.

I looked around and what a shock I got. Jean was standing there wearing a shiny black PVC dress that clung to her upper body like a second skin accenting her hour glass figure and protruding breasts. The neckline plunged dramatically over her torpedo-like chest not meeting up again until mid-way on her firm looking stomach. This showed off her glorious bust in a way a red-bloodied male could not ignore. The two semi-spherical breasts filled out the front of her dress meeting in the middle in a deep dark cleavage. I was especially intrigued to see the undersides of her breasts curving away from her buxom valley, it was a real turn on. Below the waist, the sexy shiny dress was looser coming to just above the knee. Her shins were covered in sheer black nylon and she was almost on tip toes with shiny black 6″ stiletto shoes.

“Oh Jean you look incredible” I gushed as stepped right up close to her. I put my hands on her shoulders and ran them over the shiny plastic to her marvellous breasts. “Oh god you really are incredible sexy” I continued as my lust grew. I then noticed that she was not wearing a necklace at all. Was I wrong ?, what the hell did it matter dressed that like she was driving me wild with desire. I ran my hands over her PVC contoured chest, excitement mounting. “Ohh Jean, what a body, oohhh what a woman” I moaned as I caressed her thrusting breasts. I leant forward to kiss her. She raised her hand to my chest to stop me then grabbed my right hand away from her chest. “Did I say you could touch me?” she said sternly, glaring at me. “N-No, sorry Jean” I replied. “You will call me Mistress” she told me.

Without warning her right hand with fingers rigid moved towards her left shoulder then slashed down to the right side of my neck. Another chop to the other side of my neck and I fell to the floor at her feet. Until now I never understood people with a foot fetish but now I was face to face with a pair of dainty feet pushed up into remarkably sensual curves by her stiletto heels. I leant forward and kissed the tops of her feet. “Get to your feet and follow me, pervert” I heard her say and looked up to she her towering over me with her legs astride and her hands on her hips. She looked magnificent, very dominant and very sexy. “Yes mistress” I found myself saying and watched as she turned around to totter off to a room at the other end of the hall. Massaging my aching neck, I got back to my feet and followed, watching the way those incredible heels caused her muscular calves to stand out in sharp relief.

By the time I entered her living room, the combination of the shiny skin tight dress, stiletto heels and muscular calves had me rock hard. The room had obviously been two rooms at one time, now knocked into one. Across the middle of the room was an arch where the dividing wall had once been. At the base of the arch were two small waist high walls that came part way into the room. One end of the room was a dining area with a table and chairs, the other end had a three piece suite and a T.V./video unit.

Jean tottered over to the sofa and sat herself down at the edge rather elegantly with her legs together. The way her stilettos raised her heels, I wondered whether they made her uncomfortable. “You were interested in my necklace” she said as she leaned over to pick something up from a coffee table at end of the sofa. As she did so, something fell onto “Pick that up will you?” she asked. I had been so engrossed in her dangling chest that I hadn’t noticed what she had knocked off the table or where it fell.

I knelt down but couldn’t quite see what she had dropped. “Maybe it fell under the front of the sofa” she suggested. I leant closer to the ground to look. Bad move, there was a swish of her nylon clad legs moving and then I found thick bulging muscle enveloping my head. They wrapped themselves around my head like some kind of boa-constrictor and began to squeeze tight. My head had been devoured by the legs of a she-devil.

The insides of her thighs smothered my ears, mouth, and nose and seemed to bulge with a life of their own. “Trying to look up my skirt are you?” I heard her accuse. I was surprised at how large her thighs were as I put my hands on her legs to try and prise them apart. Her inner thighs felt just as big as her outer thighs judging by the way they crushed against my head. “I’ll teach you for molesting me” I heard her say. I felt stocking tops and suspenders under my hands and despite my predicament they were arousing. Powerful muscles bulged and rippled as she squeezed hard. Deep clefts formed under my fingers as her warm skin turned to steely-hard columns of man- crushing power. I groaned aloud from the pressure of her powerful thighs. “I am your mistress. I will teach you obedience” she told me “my legs will be your temple of doom. You are mine to control and toy with as I wish”.

I hadn’t really thought that a woman her age could have legs as strong as this until now. Incredible skull-splitting power surged in feminine columns of steel either side of my head. Devastating pain shot through my brain as her powerful thighs clamped down with relentless pressure. “This is how I deal with perverts like you” her voice said above the pounding of my heart in my ears “I crush them to pulp between my powerful legs”. I couldn’t pry myself free from the awesome grip of her legs. No matter how hard I strained, I couldn’t budge those curvy sculpted columns of might. Dispite the terrible crush upon my head, I found my position to be strangely alluring.

“Yesterday I caught the paperboy looking down my cleavage” her voice said “he didn’t last long between my legs. Crying and blubbing like a baby he was. Are you going to start crying pervert ?”. Through blurred eyes, I saw her support herself on her arms and straighten her body. An awful surge of power raged around my trapped head and I screamed aloud as my head span as if it were caught in a tornado. Lights flashed in front of my eyes, my ears buzzed, I couldn’t take much more of this.

I’ve got to get out of here, the woman’s crazy, she’s going to kill me, I couldn’t let this happen. She was only a small old lady, I must have the greater bodyweight. Surely I could do something and quick, my head was spinning faster and faster towards oblivion. Trying to ignore the awesome power crushing down upon my head, I managed to get myself into a crouch then channelling my rapidly dwindling strength into my legs I pushed body lurched away from the sofa. I felt a slight give in her legs which she quickly tried to correct.

I felt myself starting to slip under. Concentrate Priest!, come on, one last go. With the last burst of energy I could muster, I pushed myself away hard. I found myself sprawling across the floor as I pulled my captor off her seat, dumping her unceremonious onto the floor. She landed with a bump losing her grip enough for me to slip my neck down to her calves.

She tried to lock her ankles together to prevent me from escaping, but I stopped her. Raising myself to my knees, I threw myself towards her body. Pressing myself against the back of her legs, I managed to pin her head and shoulders to the floor with her legs bent right back so that she was almost bent double. Remarkably she didn’t seem in any way discomforted, she must be incredibly flexible for her age. She struggled but I had the greater bodyweight and prevented her from escaping.

With her calves on my shoulders, I looked down at the face of an attractive yet ageing woman “I don’t like being attacked by silly old women. Who do you work for?”. “You’re aching for it, pervert. I can feel you” she accused. Actually she was right, pressing up against the backs of her strong legs with her rock hard calves inches below my face was exciting enough. The fact that my crotch was pressed hard against her pelvis was very sexual indeed. What if someone were to come into the room now and find me in this compromising position with an old woman, I’d probably get life!. “Do you live her alone?” I asked her urgently as thoughts of imprisonment circulated my mind.

She didn’t answer, her face tensed with concentration then I felt a surge of power as her body and legs straightened like a coiled spring being released from tension. There was a tremendous feeling of raw muscular energy as my body was lifted and flung through the air half way across the room as her strong legs pushed their way in an instant through 180 degrees. I landed awkwardly on my back, catching my elbow on the carpeted floor. Damn! Hell! the tingling of my funny bone really p’d me off.

Across the other side of the room I saw Jean throw her body back onto her shoulders and then, without using her hands, propel herself forward and up to land on her feet with her legs astride and her skirt tensioned tight. Oh my word, what a woman !, what have I got myself into I thought to myself. I scrabbled quickly to my feet to face her.

The woman moved to the dividing wall as I approached her. In one quick move she placed both hands on one of the waist high walls, and vaulted her body up into the air, kicking her legs forward. Her stilettos hammered hard into my chest, twin points of sharp agony nailed into my body. I staggered back under the impact into the dining table.

“Bitch!” I swore nursing my chest “that bloody well hurt”. “It was meant to” she sneered walking towards me “the more you fight back, the more pain I will inflict upon your pathetic male body”. I’m not a violent man, I don’t like hitting anyone let alone a mature woman, but this woman was obviously dangerous. Knowing that I was going to be ashamed at what I had to do, I stepped forward and drove my fist right into the old lady’s stomach.

“Wooorpph” she doubled in agony. I grabbed hold of her around her neck and got behind her trying to control her struggles. “I’m sorry Jean but I had to stop you” I apologised “look lets all calm down and talk about this sensibly”. Jean said nothing, she threw her body back against me raising her feet off the ground. Throwing herself forward again, she
planted her feet and bent at the waist. I felt her backside thrust into my crotch and then I was flying over her back, tumbling head over heels to slam into the carpet.

“I may be 63 but I’m more than a match for you” she told gazing down at me. She raised her foot menacingly then I looked on in horror as a stiletto heel came plummeting towards my face. I rolled out of the way just in time and scrambled to my feet. Jean moved towards me. I tried to grab her hand but she reversed my hold, turned around swinging my arm in an overhead arc. My body was forced to somersault in the air and once more my back renewed its acquaintance with the floor.

A foot was shoved into my face. “Kiss my foot, pervert” she instructed. “Sod you” I retorted, as I’ve already told you, I’m not into foot worship. Grabbing the foot off my face I turned onto my stomach, reached out for her other foot and pulled. Down she came in an undignified heap to land on her backside.

Holding her legs I got up and tried to force her onto her back. However she struggled and squirmed managing to get a foot free with which she immediately started to kick me. Ever been kicked by a woman wearing stiletto heels ?, well it blooming well hurts. I immediately let go of her other foot to get out of her range.

She got to her feet. I moved in once more to try and restrain her. Moving with my motion, she grabbed my collar with both hands and started to fall back pulling me down as well. As I fell she planted her right foot in my stomach and stretched her leg straight. My body was thrown high over her body flying in an arc almost half way along the room
before landing heavily on my back.

Looking back I saw her once more get to her feet by throwing her body back onto her head and shoulders then pushing herself forward onto her feet. “You’re out of your depth, pervert. This old lady is a skilled fighter and you are hopeless” she told me. Standing with her legs astride she ran her hands over the contours of her body “All this femdom clothes aren’t for show, pervert. I don’t need whips and chains to dominate a man. When I dominate a man, he stays dominated”.

All this being thrown about was wearing me out. Wearily I began to get to my feet to face her again. The next thing I knew was that this petite PVC clad mature amazon was colliding with mine. We fell to the ground struggling for dominance. I grabbed her flailing arms and strained to press them to the ground either side of her head. Yes! did it “you’re no match for me old woman” I taunted. My elation was premature, Jean squirmed and twisted under me managing to bring a leg through between our wrestling bodies. I leaned forward to pin her more firmly then I felt her legs wrap themselves around my middle, then lock tight in a brutal scissors. Like a snake, the she-devil wrapped her huge legs about my waist and crushed me.

“Meet the instruments of your destruction, pervert” Jean said “I’m going to crush you senseless”. I had to let go of her hands in order to try and prise her legs apart. “Urghh” I grunted as gripped her bulging thighs trying desperately to relieve the strain as her scissors cut deep into my middle. My efforts were useless, they couldn’t be budged an inch. “What’s wrong ?, is a little old woman hurting you?” she sneered. I found it difficult to breathe as her legs of steel squashed my innards. It felt as if I was being cut in two. Her legs were held tight like two columns of living iron as she applied her powerful vice. “Please Jean no” I begged. “Mistress to you” she retorted. I gasped loudly as a surge of power increased the pressure around my middle. I looked down to see powerful thigh muscles standing out like smooth but solid rocks down her legs, shining sexily with the sheen of stretched black nylon.

She flexed her thighs once more and I felt and saw my hands visible move outwards as her muscles expanded. I had a strong sexual desire for this marvellous old woman who could dominate me so completely between her powerful thighs. I pulled myself as close as I could to her and ran my hands over her thrusting PVC covered breasts. “Please mistress please no more” I pleaded “you’re too much for me to handle”. “You’ve got that right, you weakling” she laughed, the first time I ever saw her face in anything but a glare. I stared kissing her breasts hoping for some mercy. My efforts were rewarded with a tightening of her thighs. Her legs were as powerful as a stallions. “Arghhhh noo please” I beat in vain as her mighty thighs crushed me.

I tried to pull my body away from her, but I was stuck fast. The ruinous scissors continued. In despair, I began beating on her breasts, the look of anger on her face was terrifying but I was desperate to get out of those legs. Finally my blows must have had some effect because she opened her legs to release me.

I quickly rolled out from between her thighs and tried to get to my knees to put some distance between us while I recovered. Suddenly her legs came around from behind me, encircling my waist pulling me back to the floor. With my trapped in the crook of her leg, she locked her ankles and squeezed tight. “How dare you hit an old lady. I’m really going to make you suffer for that” she told me as she leaned back and increased the pressure. My insides were burning, she was squeezing so tight that it was restricting my breathing. I reached out and grabbed uselessly at her calves but they were locked tight. The feel of her rock hard double diamond calves was too exciting too resist.

My hands must have lingered too long on her calves, her thighs moved closer together another inch, robbing me of breath. I felt so spent and I was getting weaker all the time. I sensed her raising herself on her arms and straightening her legs. I gasped in agony as her steel-like legs cut into my body. Suddenly the pressure was gone, I fell forward and just lay there trying to regain my breathe.

A weight descended upon my back. My hair was jerked back and a nylon-clad calve slid under my neck. The back of her thigh came down upon the back of my head, trapping my neck in the crook of her leg in a choking hold. I tried to push myself up but her other leg came across to kneel on my shoulder pinning me down. “You should learn to mind your own business Mister Priest” her voice said “that way you wouldn’t get hurt”. She was choking me, cutting off my air. I couldn’t move my shoulders, she was pinning them. My legs!,. I could move my legs. Bringing myself onto my knees, my back sloped down towards my head. Jean had difficulty keeping on the hold. Well I would make things more difficult for her. I started to raise my body from the waist end up and down trying to unseat her.

Finally it worked and she slid off to one side. I tried to roll away from her, but her arm came around my neck from behind and pulled me into a headlock. When I saw her legs coming around my body I panicked. I slammed my elbow back hard catching Jean in the stomach. “Worppp” the air rushed out of her.

I decided to give her a headlock of my own. Getting behind the winded woman I wrapped my arms around her neck and pulled her head against my chest. “Right you old bitch. It’s time you started talking” I shouted. She raised her body up with her legs astride like a human table and began squirming around. Actually it was quite sexy, her PVC dress was tight and rode up high. Her nylon-sheathed thighs and calves rippled as she moved her body with her legs wide apart around trying to break my hold, but I held on. “It’s no use Grandma, you’ve met your match” I said tightening my arm.

Her face was turning bright red but she still wouldn’t give up. Then she let herself bend in the middle and suddenly she was flying backwards over my head!. The motion wrenched her head out from under my arms. Her legs shot out around my head from behind and the captor was now the captured.

Pulling me down to the ground and laying behind me, my head and neck were trapped between her muscled thighs. I raised my hands to try and prise her legs open but she grabbed them and pulled them back hard while she increases the pain. “I like it when they fight back. It means I can really pour it on” she said tensing her thighs of steel. I could see the
deep cuts and hard slabs of man-crushing power out of the corner of my eye as the awful pressure increased on my battered head. “Plea-s-e” I begged. “No mercy for perverts like you” came the reply as she crushed me.

“Arhghhh” I had to yell as the pressure increased to  neck snapping, skull busting intensity. “You are totally at my mercy now, pervert”. Her legs swung rapidly from one side to the other flinging my trapped head about like a kite in a gale. “I am in complete and utter control”. She was right, I was completely helpless and too shook up to resist.

The pressure rose unbearably as she let go of my hands and raised her body onto her arms then stretched out. “Let’s play big Ben, pervert” Slowly she started to move around in a circle, my trapped head the pivot, her strong legs the hands of the clock. I was forced to shuffle my body around to counter her motion and the added pain as she twisted my neck. She was toying with me. She stopped occasionally to slam my head from one side to the other, then continued to walk the circle around me.

Then she stopped, eased off fractionally so she slide around to the side of me to scissor the front and back off my neck then she squeezed tight. “Well it’s been fun, pervert, but all good things must come to an end” she told me. Her thighs turned rock hard as I tried in vain to stop her crushing my throat. Her muscular legs bulged with raw power as she squeezed. My head span wildly as her strong legs cut off my oxygen in a vice-like grip. Frantically wanting to breathe I tried to tug at her legs but they would not move. My vision began to blur and I tried to wriggle and struggle to free myself, but this only burned up my valuable oxygen. I cried out to the gods, but none answered. The she-beast was
too much for me and she crushed me into defeat. Inevitably I passed out.

I came around some time later to find Jean towering over me in those stiletto heels with her powerful legs astride and her hands on her hips. “Worship your mistress, pervert” she ordered. I obeyed, after what she had done to me she was worthy of worship. Starting at her feet, I kissed and caressed her mighty legs working my way slowly up to her crotch. By the time I got there, I was so aroused that I begged and pleaded for her to let me make love to her but she refused. “Real mistresses don’t satisfy the sexual cravings of perverts like you. Get on with your worship”. I continued to worship her, caressing and kissing her body, especially her chest and legs.

“This is boring, get where you belong” she pointed to her crotch. Willingly I moved to where she had indicated. She grabbed the back of my head and shoved my face pressed firmly against her crotch. Then her thighs closed tight and held me there for a long time. I heard her moan and was aware of an increase in her musky aroma. Despite not being able to breathe easily, I didn’t offer any resistance, I was too aroused, I enjoyed being pressed against the crotch of my mistress, hoping she would change her mind and let me worship her with my body properly.

“I’m going to bed now and when I wake up you better be gone” she told me then squeezed down. Once more I felt the awful pressure as her powerful thighs crushed my skull. In spite of the pain sheering through my head, I was so turned on by the dominance of this woman that I came before the darkness finally enveloped me.
The Prince stood on the balcony looking out at the reflections of the moon on the lake down below. He needed a break from that stuffy ball some aristo had organised, some fresh air would clear his head.

He heard the doors open behind him and turned to glare at whoever it was that dared to intrude upon his solitude. In walked a smartly dressed mature woman. She was in her late forties or early fifties, her face was fierce and frightening – piercing grey eyes, a large savage face with hanging jowls, wrinkles and creases, a large nose and a fierce mouth framed by a curly short mane of blonde/near white hair. She wore a white blouse over a medium sized body with quite large breasts, standing 5’8″ with a smart grey knee- length and black high heels. The sheen of her sheer black nylons covering her shins reflected the moonlight. His bodyguards standing silently at the either side of the door moved forward. One blocked her path by standing in front of the woman while the other moved to her side. “The Prince doesn’t want to be disturbed” one told her.

In the blink of an eye, the woman jumped on her left leg, her skirt billowing up giving a flash of stocking top as she delivered a lightning fast kick to the man in front of her, he fell back with a broken neck. Before the other bodyguard could react, she had jumped to her other foot and her strong shapely left leg smashed her foot deep into his stomach. The man’s body hurtled across the balcony, landing hard on the floor some distance away.

Badly winded, the bodyguard looked on helplessly as she approached the Prince. “P-P-Please leave me alone” he stuttered too petrified to move. “I’m not going to hurt you” the woman told him softly as she walked up to him. Grabbing his arm, she bent it into an arm-lock with one hand on his shoulder and forced him to the ground.

The bodyguard looked on as the woman knelt astride the Prince’s legs, moved her hand to his crotch and started kneading the front of his trousers where his manhood was. “I’m going to be your Mistress” the woman said. From his position, the bodyguard could only see the woman’s broad back and ample backside as she sat astride the Prince, but the way he was softly moaning made it obvious what she was doing.

“Ohhhh magnificent” the Prince moaned, torso arching back and forth as his moans got loader. “You will make me your Queen” she told him “you don’t need that silly dolly bird do you lover?”. “No no no” the Prince moaned. “You need a real woman, don’t you?”. “Oh yes yes”. The bodyguard could see the Prince rubbing his hands up and down the woman’s thighs, revealing stockings and suspenders covering strong looking legs.

The woman worked his bulge expertly eliciting louder and louder moans of pleasure. The bodyguard began to wish he was in the Prince’s place, she must be amazing, she had been working him for over half an hour yet he still hadn’t come. The Prince was now moaning and begging for release. The old dragon leant forward to whisper something in the Prince’s ear and then sat back. “Oh please please, anything you say. I love you, I love you. I’d do anything for you. Please” the Prince begged pathetically. “Nghhh nghgh nghhh nnghh” his torso rocked back rhythmically, the woman still massaging him “nnghh nnhghh ohhhhh god god ohhhhh”. The bodyguard was amazed, the Prince’s release seemed to be going on for ages. “What a woman” he thought in envy and let a moan himself.

Finally the spasms ceased and the woman got up. “We will be seeing a lot more of each other from now on, lover” she said and turned to walk over to the bodyguard. He tried to crawl underneath a wooden coffee table that was behind him. “Hai!” Her hand slashed down in a blur of motion smashing the table to pieces. He cried in fear as the woman raised her foot and hammered it down hard upon his throat, crushing his larynx and then grinding her heel.

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