George and The Dragon (JIMP#31)

The Commander of a secret US task force and Jim feel the power of The Dragon

SPOILER: A scary looking first class passenger flexes her powerfully muscled calves at Jim. Jim unexpectedly has a good dining companion in an unfamiliar city. The Dragon demonstrates the reason for her fearsome reputation as she infiltrates the headquarters of a secret US military task force looking for vengeance. While Jim gets domme’d in a hotel room feeling her power and receiving some startling information. Phone call.

Inspired by you-know-who, a fearsome looking woman

The following story contains descriptions of sex and violence. If this offends you or if you are under the legal age of consent in your country do not read on. Although based on real people, names have been changed to protect the innocent. Any other likeness to anyone dead or alive or fictional is purely coincidental.
(c) JIM P 2011
**************

Part 1. Brief Encounter
The bored Immigration officer held out his hand for the next passport without bothering to look up. With a sigh, he opens the document and looked at the photograph. Great God! Talk about a bad photograph. This makes her look like a right old Dragon. Suppressing the urge to laugh, he glances up and gulps as the fierce looking mature woman glares at him. She has shoulder length grey hair, elegantly styled in a sweeping fringe and swept away from the face covering her ears. But what a face! The face keeps him transfixed for far longer than his usual glance. A fearsome broad crinkled face with a ferocious set to her wide mouth, which is open in a ghastly smile. Her narrow cold grey eyes bore into him sending chills down his spine. Gulping again, he quickly looks back at the passport and reads “Occupation: Social Parasite”.

Calming his voice he asks “What is the purpose of your visit to the U.S. Maam?”. “Revenge for the U.S. attack upon British soil” she replies in a gravely posh voice that sends goose bumps along his arms. He doesn’t smile. Bloody English, think they’re so funny. Handing back the passport, he holds out his hand for the next. “Jim Priest Occupation: Private Detective”, he reads. “What is the purpose of your visit to the U.S. Sir?”
***
I watched as the woman from the plane walked away from me. She had been in first class, fawned over by the flight attendants as she boarded. Allowing for her light grey stiletto heels, her height must have been around 5’8″. She wore a smart expensive looking designer duck-egg blue business suit. A light thin jacket with matching knee length pleated skirt and blue nylons. I had only a brief glimpse of her before she was whisked away into first class, but I got the impression of an aloof, fierce looking woman in her early to mid sixties. It was the sort of face a lot of men would pay good money to be bossed about by. An image of the stern posh old woman in shiny black PVC dominatrix gear came to mind and I quickly dismissed it.

There wasn’t much else to do but sit back and listen to some music, trying to ignore the jostling kids and the cramped seats. I could only afford economy where the surly stewards and haughty stewardesses ignored you to the point of rudeness.

I had almost forgotten about her until I was off the plane and following her through the terminus to Immigration. Ahead of me I could see that her pleated skirt was slit right up the back revealing an expanse of sexy seamed stocking. Her ankles were thick and solid but led to big beefy muscular calves that flexed and bunched with every step. I know it’s my weakness and I should have learnt my lesson by now, but I increased my pace to catch up to get a better view. With a growing tightness in my groin, I watched the large shapely slabs of thick calve bulge with the suggestion of immense power. I wondered whether her thighs were as gloriously muscled as her calves and how she got them, although I suspected the answer was a lot of horse riding from an early age.

As we queued at passport control, I was too close to look down and had to make do with her back. She was sturdily built with a wide waist and not much of a figure, from behind at least. I thought her shoulders looked rather wide, although may be that was just the jacket.

As the grey-haired woman left Immigration, she looked back at me over her shoulder and gave me a grim toothy smile. I found myself automatically smiling back. Still maintaining eye contact, I swore she raised herself onto her toes on purpose. Her large calves turned into solid rocky masses, each jutting prominently like a sharp cliff featuring muscular striations and a deep cleft. With a saucy wink she was off, leaving me trying to suppress a boner and trying to remember what the Immigration officer just asked me.
***
Part 2. The Unexpected Dinner Guest
I had never been to America before let alone New York and as the cab battled its way to my hotel, what I saw hardly inspired me. Although I was born and raised in the outskirts of West London, I was not a fan of cities. Overcrowded streets, polluted air and congested roads with people in too much of a hurry to give you the time of day did not appeal to me.

My mood had not improved by the time I returned to the hotel later that day. I had found my way to the university only to be told curtly by a young woman that there was no such person as Dr.C.Porter-Bowl. Does everyone in this city act so tough and rude? It was getting late and I didn’t fancy venturing out to find somewhere to eat, especially after hearing about the high rate of gun crime in the city. I decided to use the hotel restaurant and was pleasantly surprised to find the prices were half as much as ‘Rip Off Britain’.

“May I join you?” a warm elegant husky voice asked. I looked up in surprise to see the woman from first class. “Yes of course” I replied out of courtesy. I started to stand. “No, Please remain seated. I’m quite capable of seating myself” she said with a ghastly smile. It was like a wide red-rimmed letterbox inset with a row of pearly white teeth. “I saw you on the plane. Us Brits should stick together when in foreign lands” she joked. “Of course. I would be glad of the company” I replied although her fierce looking face made me think otherwise. It was quite large and rectangular with a deep blockish chin and slightly flabby jaw line. Slim dark eyebrows lined narrow piercing grey eyes that sat atop a prominent nose from which deep creases fan out lining her cheeks. Her face is covered with wrinkles and creases, most noticeably around her eyes and mouth. No attempt has been made to conceal these with makeup of which she wears a touch of mascara and lipstick.

The upper class woman smiled “I was returning to the 5 star a few blocks from here when I saw you” she said. “I remembered the nice smile you gave me at the airport and thought I could do with some friendly company for dinner. I hope you don’t mind. The name’s Clarissa by the way”. There was a twinge in my groin as I remembered the way she flexed her calves at me. In fact as we chatted over our starters, I found her to be very engaging, witty and intelligent. Our class differences forgotten, we really got along well and I was enjoying her company.

Whilst waiting for our main course she asked what brought me to New York. I explained that I had received an invitation from Dr. Porter-Bowl, an expert in Masonic studies, at the University to discuss a matter of mutual interest. “Masons, how fascinating!” she exclaimed. “Unfortunately the University have never heard of him. It seems I’ve been hoaxed” I told her bitterly. “Oh, what a shame” Clarissa said sympathetically.

“Speaking of Masons, have you ever been to the Hellfire caves at West Wycombe?” the well-weathered woman asked. “Many times” I replied. That got us discussing the caves and the rumoured dark deeds of the notorious Hellfire Club during the 1700s. Clarissa was soon enthusiastically telling me about its founder, Sir Francis Dashwood and how his heart was put in an urn in the mausoleum on the hill above until it went missing. Then she paused, looked at me and smiled. I found myself smiling back. Despite her looks, she was very engaging. In fact, I could see that she was probably very handsome looking when she was younger. Her eyes seemed to lock onto me and I felt a tug of attraction.

“I’m sorry Jim was I getting carried away?” she asked. “Not all at. I’m impressed by your knowledge on the subject” I replied. “Do you think an upper class woman has nothing to do all day except go horse riding and fox hunting all day or go shopping and dine at expensive restaurants?” she said with an infectious chuckle. “I didn’t mean any offence” I said quickly. “None taken. I was always inquisitive, thirsty for knowledge. I would spent ages in my father’s library reading the books on history and from that grew my fascination for secret societies created by wealthy men to further their own greed” she said.

At last, the waitress brought our food. Clarissa gave the girl such a cold glare that she swallowed the gum she had been enthusiastically chewing. “Filthy habit” she muttered as the girl left.

The grey haired woman opened her handbag and started rummaging around. “Did you know that Benjamin Franklin attended Hellfire club meetings?” the woman asked. “I did” I replied as her hand appeared holding an American bank note. “The all-seeing-eye and the New World Order” I told her. I had seen a version carved in stone beneath St.Agatha’s [JIMP #29]. She nodded and pointed to the text at the top of the pyramid. “Annuity cueptis. Our enterprise is now a success” she said, then pointed to the date under the pyramid “1776, the date when the Illuminati elite began putting their plans into action” she told me. That led to a vigorous debate about Masons and conspiracy theories as we ate.

“So do you have any plans for the rest of the evening?” Clarissa asked as we drank our coffee after the meal. I admitted that I had none and didn’t fancy going out alone. “Me neither. I’ll probably just walk back to my hotel and read”. The thought of the mature well-heeled woman walking alone in the dark concerned me. “Maybe you should take a cab. There are some nasty people out there” I told her. She laughed dismissively. “Oh Jim believe me, if someone tries to mug me they will discover that I’m the scariest thing out there in the night and no gun would be able to save them”.

She insisted that she paid for her own meal then I went to the restroom for a comfort break. As I came out, I could see Clarissa looking out of the tall wide windows that lined the front of the lobby. Once again I was mesmerised by the large solid calves covered in sheer blue nylon. As I walked across the lobby to join her, I saw her rise on her toes, the muscles under her skin forming thick hard plates. Orrrrrr the sight filled me with desire. She lowered herself and turned to face me with a knowing smile on her face. She must have caught me looking in the reflection on the glass. To my surprise she ran her fingers up my chest leaving a trail of shivers. “You know Jim, you could always invite an old woman to your room and keep me company. We can find such a lot to talk about” her husky voice was soft, breathy and so incredibly seductive that I found myself agreeing without a second thought.

Clarissa insisted on taking the stairs instead of the lift. For several glorious minutes, I had a bird’s eye view as her thick muscled calves bunched and flexed before me. They really were quite sensational and I was thrilled by the striations and the thickness of the muscle. Within a hands reach, they were so close that I had to fight down the urge to reach out and touch them. “Oh Clarissa you have amazing calves” I sighed as we neared my floor. “Are you looking at my legs? You wicked man” she chuckled. “You must do a lot of horse riding” I said. She just laughed “Incorrigible”. I had originally worried what people would think if they saw me taking this scary looking old lady to my room. Now with a stiff boner from watching her calves, I couldn’t care less what they thought.

Arriving at my room, I apologised for its smallness. “Nonsense. It’s just fine” she told me. Embarrassed that she might see the bulge in my trousers, I made an act of tidying up my stuff from the armchairs near the window where I thought we would sit. A loud wooden scraping noise made me turn around. Clarissa had removed her blue jacket and was hanging it up inside the wardrobe. She was quite sturdily built, some people might have said plump, but her body seemed quite firm. I could now see that her shoulders really were wide and from her neck swept large defined triangular slopes to her shoulders. More distracting were her very ample breasts that swayed about underneath her white blouse.

“I want to show you something” she told me as she lent over the long cupboard top along the side of the room. The way her breasts dangled inside her blouse before my eyes only made my erection worse, so I tried to concentrate on her hands. Taking out a red marker pen and the note she showed me earlier, she drew a triangle around the pyramid then an inverted triangle on top. Circling the letters that the triangles touched she read them off “M A S O N. Isn’t that outrageous?” she exclaimed. “Yes. I think I read that in Dan Brown or was it a Nicholas Cage movie?” I replied.

“Oh these shoes are so uncomfortable. Be glad you don’t have to wear high heels, Jim” she told me as she pulled out the chair in front of the dresser. She raised her right foot onto the chair. I could only gawp as the large calve meat hung and swayed from her lower leg, twitching as she removed the shoe. As if that weren’t enough, the hem of her slit skirt fell away revealing dark blue stocking tops and large sturdy looking thighs. My cock was twitching like crazy and I had to force myself to look away.

“Oh come now Jim. I thought you liked my legs. Please don’t say they disgust you so much you have to look away” she teased. “It’s not that. They are magnificent” I replied. “Then please turn around and look” she snapped sternly. I jumped and turned around at the command. Her voice softened. “It’s not often I get a man who appreciates my legs”. She had her left foot on the chair. I could clearly see the solid calve muscle and a very strong looking inner thigh muscle leading to stocking tops and a suspender belt. “Ohhhhh Clarissa you really do have incredibly sexy legs” I moaned lustfully. Having removed the other shoe, she lowered her foot ending the leggy view.

“My, you do have it bad for such an old dragon don’t you?” she said seductively with a predatory glance at the front of my trousers. I could feel my face burning in shame. “I’m so sorry Clarissa” I apologised.

The stern wrinkly-faced woman looked me in the eye. “I never told you my surname, did I Jim. Well I am Dr. Clarissa Porter-Bowl”. WHAM! The woman moved fast, there is an image retained by my retina of the sixty-something grey hair kicking her leg high in the air with great flexibility. A glimpse of blue stockings and suspenders then my head is blasted back in a devastating explosion of pain. “But most people call me The Dragon” I heard her say in my daze.

WHUMP! Orpphhhh a thick stocking clad leg kicks out again from the long slit in her business skirt catching me like a thick crowbar across my middle. Crumpling around my winded gut, I heard her tell me “I invited you here, Jim”. I felt my arm swung into the air and then down again sharply. Whoa! I find myself spinning head over heels before slamming into the carpet. No sooner had I landed, than the old woman in the business skirt is forcing me up with a painful armlock.

It’s all happening so fast, but being so easily dominated by this mature woman is really turning me on. Turning her back to me, I see grey hair before me as she pulls my arm over her shoulder. I feel her wide backside press against my erection as she leans forwards and then I’m flying over her broad shoulders. WHAP Whap whap I land on the bed with the springy mattress absorbing the fall.

Looking up at the ceiling with my feet towards the headboard and my head close to the edge, the light is blotted out as Clarissa crawls over me onto the bed. Her weight drops on my chest then I see her blue skirt tight across her backside as it slides back towards me. My neck is caught between the top of her sturdy looking legs with her wide backside before me. “Urghhhk” I croak as a brutal pressure crushes my throat in the apex of her legs. “So you like my legs do you Jim? Well feel how powerful they are and then tell me you like them” I heard her say above the noise of my blood pumping in my ears. My hands close around thick solid legs and bulging thighs encased in nylon as my head spins under the vice-like clamp. My word can this woman squeeze, I never expected such powerful legs on a woman like her.

Large hills block out the light on either side of me and I realise these are her hamstrings. So close to my eyes, they look huge. The pressure crushing in from either side of my head is intense. How can an upper class woman in her 60’s have legs as strong as these? “Arghhh!” I have to cry out as I feel her lock her calves behind me intensifying the brutal reverse scissor hold. ‘Grkkk!” the sheer power I can feel in her legs convinces me that she could kill me within seconds. “Orrkk” my head swims, I feel as if I’m going to pass out at any moment but the woman keeps easing off the pressure slightly then re-applying it, skilfully keeping me on the edge of consciousness. With dread, I realise that she’s done this before. “Now Jim. Let me tell about my day. Are you sitting comfortably? No? Tough. Then I shall begin”
***
Part 3 Enter The Dragon
Joshua Richmond yawned and turned the page of his paper. Nothing ever happened. Everyday thousands of people passed the grand old building without realising what it was. Just like Army Intelligence liked it. Just then the entrance door began to revolve and into the lobby strode a frumpy looking silver haired woman in a light blue business jacket and dress. “I’m sorry Mam but the art gallery is a few blocks further down” he told her. She stopped, opened the large white handbag she was carrying and rummaged inside.

“No. This is the right place” the woman told him as she click clacked towards him on expensive looking high heels. Joshua became more alert. ‘English? Jeese we whooped your ass in the War of Independence and you still don’t get the message” he said. “I beg your pardon?” the woman’s voice was hard with indignation. “I’m sorry mam but this building is off limits to the general public” he told her.

“I have an invitation right here” the woman said, searching in her handbag once more. Suddenly, it’s contents spill to the floor. “Oh damnation!” she exclaimed. Joshua watched bemused as the posh English broad crouched on her haunches to retrieve the items. “Oh do come and help me please” she pleads. “Oh very well” the guard sighed, getting out of his seat. Walking around his desk, he notes how the long slits in her skirt were exposing a lot of leg. Mmmmm nice legs for a frumpy old bird. He crouched to pick up her compact and takes a good long look up her skirt. Past her knees he is excited to spot stockings and suspenders with a glimpse of white knickers. Wow the old broad really has great legs. The woman stood up and stepped towards him. Joshua was just rising when he felt large hands pressing on the back of his neck keeping his head down. “No!” he cried as a blue nylon clad knee hurtled towards him. WHUMP “Kkkkkkkshhhhhh” the knee struck his throat like a hammer hitting an anvil, crushing his windpipe with a ghastly thud.

“There’s my invitation you rude man” he heard her say as he clutched his throat. Knowing he would die unless he got immediate medical attention, Joshua withdrew his pistol intending to attract help and shoot the English bitch in the process. “Oh don’t be so tedious” the woman sighed. He thought she looked really fierce as she grabbed his wrist with both hands and swung his arm towards the ceiling while digging her fingers into the tendons. With horror Joshua felt his fingers go numb. A sharp kick at the back of his legs and his feet were swept away from under him.

“Kkk kkkk” his body depleting its last reserves of oxygen, he watched helplessly as, still holding his wrist keeping his arm straight, the scary looking woman put a heel on his ruined throat. Joshua felt the sharp point of the stiletto heel dig into the flesh. “Kkkk” a large toned shapely calve muscle towered before his eyes. Despite his predicament, he couldn’t help running his eyes over the thick ankles, along the thick shapely calves, over strong thighs to stocking tops near the apex of her legs. Although he knew he was dying, he couldn’t help being turned on by the sight. Wow the old British turkey had great legs. He was going to go to Heaven with a hard-on, what a way to go.

Suddenly the point pressure on his throat soared as the woman lifted her other foot from the floor transferring her full weight onto his neck. With all her bodyweight on top of it, the stiletto heel drove through cartilage and punctured his windpipe with a ghastly sound like a nail being driven through a taut rubber sheet covering the end of a box. KLOCK! Followed by a slight hiss. “Do you get that message, you nasty little man?” the deadly well dressed woman told him. Peeling his fingers from the cold metal, the gun was thrown onto Joshua’s body. “Americans and their guns. Nasty habit” she said.

Walking to the entrance door, she locked it then glanced at the security camera positioned overhead. The small device she had activated when she entered had sent a specialised EMF spike that froze the image it transmitted. Locking the guard’s arms at the elbows, the elegantly dressed woman dragged the body out of view behind the desk. Picking up an unescorted visitors pass, she took from her handbag something that resembled a large plaster. Removing the backing, she stuck it to the back of the pass. Swiping the card above the reader of the interior security door, she heard the mechanism unlock. The Dragon entered the building.
***
“Urghh” I cried. It felt as if my neck was wedged tight between two fleshy slabs of concrete. My hands held onto her large bulging hamstrings either side of my head. I had long given up trying to budge them, but the feel of the soft nylon over the rock solid muscle beneath her skin turned me on. Listening in morbid fascination to her tale, I found it hard to reconcile the image of this immaculately dressed grey-haired upper-class woman with a cold-blooded killer. Nevertheless her power was undeniable as her muscular legs kept me on the edge of consciousness.

Clarissa stopped speaking and the brutal crush ceased as her sturdy legs opened. My head flopped back in relief as the blood rushed back to my brain and panting as my lungs could freely draw air. My freedom was short-lived. Twisting around on my chest, she yanked her skirt around the top of her thighs. The sight of stocking tops, suspenders and white knickers made me forget about my situation until she lent forward. Large hands grabbed my head, pulling it forward. I felt a meaty calve slip behind the back of my neck and the warmth of her inner thighs as they closed in. “Kkkkk” I croak as my throat is locked tight in a powerful figure 4 headscissor. My hands reach out to the fleshy girders either side of my head encountering large well-defined thighs sheathed in nylon bulging with a raw power that nearly knocks me out. “I could put you away with just the tiniest bit more of a squeeze, Jim. So you better pay attention” she tells me. A very slight ease in pressure brings me back from the brink and I become aware of something shoved in front of me. My eyes focus to see the note she drew on earlier, her fingers tracing the outline of the intersected triangles. “The Star of David. The arrogant assertion that the Jews fell from God’s favour after they crucified Christ and that they, the Illumanti Elite, are now God’s chosen ones” she lectured.

The powerful leggy mantrap opened and the woman sat astride my chest. With her skirt rucked up and legs apart, I had no choice but to look at the sexy lingerie brazenly on display. “Enjoying the view, Jim?” she asked as she unbuttoned the white blouse from the top to mid-way. It fell open to reveal a large amount of breast crammed into a large black bra. My eyes were drawn to the start of an inviting deep cleavage that plunged into the full rounded cups. “Come to momma” she said pulling my head up and shoving my face into her cleavage. “Mmmmm Argh!” The lovely breast smother turns into a crushing headlock. As she yanked me off the bed, I wasn’t surprised to find her arms thick and solid as they held my skull like a vice.

Forcing me to march across the room to the windows, she turned me around then released me. “Clarissa please whoa!” grabbing the front of my shirt with both hands, the 60-something woman walked rapidly backwards a couple of steps pulling me with her. In an elegant seamless move, she rolled backwards pulling me towards the floor. I saw her leg come up and plant a foot in my stomach. As her back hit the floor, her leg straightened and I was sent flying head over heels so fast that I land on my back close to the door. She had thrown me clear across the length of the room!

“Orr” my back! I had barely got to my knees when she was upon me. Hauling me up by my shirt, she again walked quickly backwards several steps before falling back again. This time I felt two feet against my stomach and, as her back hit the floor there was a powerful surge of force lifting my body high into the air as she threw me into the middle of the room.

“Orrr” my poor back. I was so dazed that I was still lying on the carpet when she reached down and hauled me to my feet. Facing me once more, she pushed me backwards for a couple of steps before pulling me again. I was too disorientated to try to resist. Down she went and I started to tumble again. Once more I felt two feet plant themselves in my middle and I’m lifted high as I’m thrown. THUMP Thump thump my back lands on the bouncy bed.

The bed springs again as the frighteningly stern looking woman joins me. Taking hold of my arm she yanks me towards her open muscular legs like some freakish man-killing monster. My neck meets her panties and a thick calve clamps itself across the back of my head as the other leg closes the trap. “Kkkkk” once more my throat is caught in her brutal vice-like leggy grip, this time with my arm being scissored hard against the side of my neck.
***
Part 4: The Dragon’s Sting
Dwight tapped the image of the foyer on the screen. “Odd. I swear Joshua was just there a second ago now he’s gone”. “Probably gone to the John” replied Don. “He’s not meant to do that until he’s relieved” Dwight said. Just then, the door lock clicked and the LED changed from red to green. Dwight approached the door as it swung open. “Joshua, you’re not meant to leave…oh, sorry mam this is a restricted area” he told the mature woman who had just entered the Security room. He notices the visitor’s pass and frowns. That pass shouldn’t have let her in here. “May I see that pass please?” he asks. The elegantly dressed grey-haired woman didn’t seem threatening and that made Dwight unprepared for what happened next.

A shift in her body stance was all the warning he got but it was too late. The hem of her skirt lifted and with a flash of blue, a foot punched hard into his gut. The bite of a stiletto heel was a point of excruciating agony as it did untold internal damage. “Borrppph!” accompanied by an explosive out rush of air, the power of the kick hurled Dwight’s body backwards into a row of filing cabinets. Barely had he begun to crumple in severely winded agony than a strong looking blue nylon clad leg rose before his eyes. A momentary glimpse of strong hamstrings and muscled calve then BAM! The woman’s foot came down on the top of his head like a club cracking his skull and breaking his teeth. His body had hardly started to fall to the floor as the frightening woman spun in a deadly dance of death. A blur of blue and a stiletto heeled foot hammered into the left side of his chest, cracking ribs, breaking his sternum and stopping his heart.

Don was triggered out of his stunned disbelief and into action. Out of his chair, he went for his gun but the big woman moves surprisingly fast. CRACK! “Arghh!” he screams as a leg blasts out, a foot shattering his elbow. The scary face of the woman freezes him in terror. She spins, her slit skirt lifting around her muscled stocking clad legs. A roundhouse kick blasts around his body and slams against his kidneys. “Arghhh!” he screams as he feels his back break and his kidneys bruise. Paralysed by extreme pain, he can only watch in horror as she continues to spin. A foot shoots towards him like a cannonball, slamming against his sternum with a sickly crackle and sending him flying across the room. Crashing into the console table and unable to move or call for help, he watches in terror as the woman kicks her leg up high in front of her body. Looking up at the terrifying woman before him, he sees an incredible pair of strong muscular legs clad in blue stockings and suspenders with white briefs in a standing splits poised over him. “Mummy!” he squeaks. He knows what is coming next but is too paralysed with fear to act. The powerful leg drops quickly like a guillotine on a condemned man. The axe kick caves in the rest of his chest. The mighty Amazon twists her foot with a gruesome crunch, crushing the heart.

With no sign of emotion, The Dragon returned her foot to the floor. Reaching past her victim, she entered a series of commands on the keyboard that switched off the security cameras then wiped the last half an hour of digitally recorded footage. Entering some more commands, the garage-like door to the delivery bay in a side street was opened allowing the other members of her team to enter and overwhelm the personnel there. They had their own reconnaissance objectives, but she had been given a specific target.
***
Although I was turned on by the power in her legs as she kept my neck captive, I was also sickened by the tale of cold-blooded killing. Clarissa must have noticed my expression and released my neck before moving back to sit astride my chest. “Don’t look at me like that. At least I don’t hunt down the unemployed on horseback with a pack of hounds and a 12 bore shotgun” she said while glaring down at me. “Those men were only doing their job. They probably had wives and kids” I said, my voice hoarse after been scissored so tightly. “They were military. They knew the risks when they signed on” she said without remorse. I opened my mouth to argue. “No. Here, this will take your mind of things” she said then opened the top of her blouse wide. I gawped at the sexy large mounds sagging in her bra with a deep dark cleavage in between.

She continued to open the rest of the blouse and another attraction took my breath away. Although her thick torso was more boyish than the shapely womanly ideal, her stomach was flat and taut with a well-defined six-pack. With growing lust, I had to run my hands over the deeply etched slabs. “Wow” I gasped.

That’s when I noticed the fine silver chain around her neck with a ruby in a silver setting. “You’re not part of The Sisterhood” I stated. “Those red-eyed freak lovers” she exclaimed angrily. “No, I serve Queen and Country, just as you should”. “Elite Death Squad” I guessed. “Ooh aren’t you clever” she said sarcastically then removed her blouse completely.

Oh boy! Her forearms were quite slim around her wrists but tapered until they were wide near her elbows. Her upper arms were very thick and covered with ripples and bulges, the triceps clearly defined. “Amazing” I gasped appreciatively. Smiling, she slid back to sit on my groin then hit a double biceps pose. “Phroooar” I moaned as two large mounds of muscle rose on her mature arms countered by strongly curved triceps underneath. She flexed her muscles a few times to pump them then flexed hard pushing up large solid peaks. They weren’t ripped like a bodybuilder or a fitness freak but they looked incredibly functional for her line of work. “Oh Clarissa” I moaned. Even though I had met quite a few muscular women, the sight of a woman flexing her muscles at me always got me going. She could feel my excitement in my trousers. “I can feel it moving! You’re one of those muscle perverts. I knew it!” she exclaimed with glee.

I sat up and started to feel those amazing biceps in my hands. However instead of worshipping her muscles, the objects of my desire grabbed my head in a brutal headlock that had me squealing. “Uraaghh” the pressure they could exert was shocking. “Strong aren’t they Jim? I could rip your head right off if I wanted to”. My head encased in her crushing embrace, I felt thick muscular legs envelop my waist. Throwing me back down onto my back, the mature muscle woman released my head but started to scissor my middle in her powerful legs.

“Urghh urghhh urghh” the mighty legs squeezed me in a strong steady rhythm that had me gasping for breath. My hand felt the power packed legs across my middle; the light blue stockings clung to the rocky contours of well-defined quads. “Urghh urghh urghh” she kept up the rhythmic squeeze. The sight of her large solid thighs relaxing then expanding significantly in size as she squeeze was entrancing. “How does it feel to be in the lethal snare of The Dragon?” she asked. “Urghhhh……” a sharp squeeze clamped tight on my gut and didn’t relax. My head and shoulders rocked back and forth uselessly as my hands held on to the rock solid feminine muscle that deprived me of breath. “I could finish you right here and now, Jim, and there’s nothing you could do about it”. “Psshhoooorr” the brutal clamp was released and she resumed a slow rhythmical squeeze, the sensation was getting me hard.
***
Part 5. The Dragon Slayer?
No one paid any attention to the well-dressed woman as she walked through the restricted operations wing. After all, the unescorted visitors pass wouldn’t have let her in if she weren’t allowed there. The sturdily built grey haired woman reached the office of the Director of Special Operations and entered then locked the door behind her.

Joseph Kowalowski looked up from behind his desk. He was a distinguished looking man in his 50’s from a wealthy influential family. Kowalowski was a power-player using this post as a rung towards directorship of one of the big agencies then the presidency itself. Sitting in front of him was a tall heavily built Afro-American in dress uniform, the operational commander, George Mitchell.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” the Director asked. George, ever alert, was already out of his chair. The woman’s slit skirt fell back as a strong shapely leg kicked out like a thunderbolt cutting through the air towards his head. A veteran of many covert operations, the big muscular man didn’t blink, he just reacted. His hands shot up and caught the woman’s calve stopping the high heeled foot inches from his face, inwardly suppressing the juddering shock of the impact. Whilst holding the nylon sheathed calve, he swept the woman’s other leg from under her with his foot. The fierce looking woman hit the floor and George braced himself to break her knee.

BAM BAM BAM the woman’s free foot blasted into his face, bloodying his lip and rocking his head. The stiletto heel was like pinpoint punches smashing into his skull and tearing up his face. “Bitch!” he spat with a grin. Trying to cut through his daze, George balled his fist and drove his arm down to snap her leg. “Argh!” he cried as the stiletto bit into the nerves on the inside of his elbow numbing his lower arm causing him to drop the shapely leg.

George pulled his gun with his other hand. “Aiiiiieee!” he screamed as the extremely sharp pointed toe of her shoe blasted between his legs with a solid thud. He fell to his knees in exceptional agony; it had felt like she had driven his balls back upside his body. Unable to suppress the dreadful pain in his groin, he saw the well shaped calve swing up to knock the gun out his hand. “You and your guns” she said with a tut. English he recognised the accent as he quickly rolled out of the way of an oncoming kick to the face and out of reach of her deadly legs. Elite Death Squad he guessed as he watched the grim faced woman stand.

“Hello, hello!” click click click. “The phones dead as you soon will be” the dreadful woman said without breaking her penetrating gaze at George as he forced himself to stand. Although in intense pain, the big muscular man wasn’t intimated. “Fuck you bitch” he spat. The pain in his balls was really bad and knew that she could have disembowelled him with that savage kick. It was painful to stand, he needed medical attention. Nothing he could do about that now, he had to deal with the immediate threat first. Sweeping off his jacket, he moved cautiously towards her. “You must be the bitch they call The Dragon. Well I’m George. I know that old story but I don’t need no sword to slay you” he told her. Just as he expects an athletic looking leg clad in blue nylon scythes through the air with deadly precision. “Orrr got you!” he cries as he flings one end of the jacket tangling the lethal leg. With a savage tug, he pulls her close and hammers his balled fist hard into her stomach. “Urrgh” he grunts as his fist shudders to an abrupt halt nearly breaking his fingers. Jeese she’s either wearing armour plating or has abs like a brick wall. George knew his punch could floor the biggest of men, yet it had no effect upon this mature broad.

With a chill he sees her ghastly smile. “My turn” she says. He knows what is coming, but is too close to avoid it so he prepares himself. Mitchell had fought with the best and his body is hard as steel. “Ngghh!” he grunts loudly as her fist slams home like a rocket. The power of her punch against his well-hardened abs is so shocking that he has trouble staying focussed and not crease over in agony. “Argh!” he cries as the side of her hand flashes down across his arm causing him to drop her trapped leg. The same hand flashes back slashing hard against the side of his neck. The big man staggers back reeling trying to fight the waves of nausea and dizziness that threaten to overwhelm him.

“You led an unauthorised military operation in Kensington resulting in the demolition of a historic building, the loss of countless irreplaceable antiques and the deaths of civilians” she tells him. “Did you really think you would get away with it?”. “Collateral damage, bitch” he spat. Grimacing with the pain in his groin he launches a series of spinning high kicks towards her head and body. Every headshot is blocked and they engage exchanging a flurry of brutal kicks to each other’s body that would have felled a lesser man. Not stopping for a moment, the two kicking combatants increasingly find their kicks blocking each other.

“Eat this bitch!” George yells as he feints a kick to the face, which she moves to block with her leg. Instead he redirects the kick to hammer his big military boot straight into her gut. “Mmmm” an unlady-like grunt escapes from her lips as she is driven back but doesn’t go down. “Arggh” he cries with the searing pain between his legs as he swings his leg high once more, clubbing her on the side of the head. Down she goes and George is upon her, pulling her head back by her hair about to drive a fist into her throat to finish her. In the cramped space between their bodies, the woman folds her leg against herself and fires her foot into his gut. “Borrrrrr!” he cries aloud as her large foot collides with his middle with the stiletto piercing through his abdomen like a red-hot needle. The force of the kick causes him to stagger back. “Steel reinforced stiletto heels. It’s all the rage with female assassins” she tells him.

BAM! A fist explodes in the middle of his face in a spray of blood as it shatters his nose. BAM! Another powerful punch blasts his head back. BAM! another and he almost loses his footing.

Kowalowski was trying to sneak past the two combatants to the door when the scary looking mature woman saw him. A thick sexy clad leg swung around fast like a baseball player swinging a bat catching him solidly in the stomach. “Borpph!” he cried as his body was propelled backwards across the office, the force of the kick so strong that his feet actually left the floor. He crashed to the floor behind his desk, his mouth opening and closing silently with his eyes screwed tight. “Stay there. I’ll be with you with in a moment dear” the terrifying woman told him.

George saw the Director go flying and tried to compose himself. Although he had fought bigger men than this woman, the damage she had inflicted was slowing him down. A burning pain and acid taste in his mouth made him suspect her sharp heel had caused some internal damage with that gut kick. Her legs were deadly, if he could immobilise them, he would be able to finish this quickly. Crouching low, George aimed a vicious kick towards the woman’s kneecaps intending to break them. Instead she jumped nimbly out of way and tried to impale his leg upon landing. Rolling out of the way just in time, he sprang from his crouch. Tackling her around the waist, he brought the woman to the floor and was upon her in an instant.

He went for her throat but her hands stopped him and they were soon embroiled in a trial of strength. “Give it up bitch, I’m much bigger and stronger than you” he snarled as he tried to battle her arms to the floor. However she was a lot stronger than she looked and put up a surprising resistance. However, he felt her gradually weakening. “Urgh!” with a loud grunt and a surge of energy, he powered the woman’s hands to the ground. “Got you now, bitch. Say your prayers” he sneered.

Suddenly thick legs enveloped his middle and pulled his body tight against hers squeezing hard, brutally hard “Arghhh!” he cried as the woman’s firm muscled thighs crushed him like a boa-constrictor. “A Gentleman should never boast, but then you’re no Gentleman. Now feel the power of a lady’s legs” she told him. “Arghh!” the woman held on to his hands as the soaring pressure crushed into his sides and his stomach was squashed against her abdomen. “They are really much too strong for you aren’t they?” she asked. “Aghh” precious breath was expelled from his lungs by the brutal embrace. He couldn’t believe he was so completely helpless in a woman’s body scissors whilst he lay on top. “Perhaps in future you won’t call women such bad names; in the next life that is” she said as he tried to rock his body back and forth while stuck firm in her deadly legs. Summoning his remaining strength, George snatched his hands out of her grasp and forced himself to his knees. The woman’s body slid forward, her stocking sheathed legs bulging so powerfully around his middle, each individual quad muscle stood large and proud like a rock clad in blue nylon. “Noooo” he cried, wasting more air. The pressure was far too intense. It felt like she was going to cut his body in two with her scissors. He had to act quickly before he became too oxygen deprived. Digging deep, the big muscular man tried to force himself to stand up but the woman’s powerful legs clung tight, much too tight. He knew something was going to break inside him soon. No longer able to draw breath, George focussed through his spinning head and hammered his fist again and again against her hard stomach to no effect. WHUMP he aimed low, angling his fist upwards as it hammered her pussy. “Oooooo” she squealed, loosening her legs enough for George to force them apart and extradite himself.

George stumbled, barely able to stand. It felt like something in his back had given way. Breathing heavily to regain his breath, he forced himself to stand through sheer will, trying to ignore the pain between his legs and the tightness in his abdomen. The woman rose, her face so grotesque with fury that he actually felt fear and gulped loudly. “Yaii!” she yelled loudly, making him jump, as she leapt into the air. For a split second he was mesmerised by pure animal instinct at the sight of the woman in the air with her panty-covered crotch exposed and a fantastic pair of well muscled yet feminine looking legs sheathed in sexy lingerie flying towards his head. Christ! He thought with a start and tried to move out of the way, but it was too late.

BLAM! It feels like a nuclear bomb has exploded in his face. The impact of the sharp heel against his chin smashes it. His head reels under the power of the kick. BAM another kick quickly hammers his face, not allowing him time to recover, the heel puncturing his cheek. BAM BAM BAM the woman is like a deadly leggy whirlwind. Kick after kick blitz his face with devastating intensity, her sole mashing his features to pulp with the stiletto heel punching through bone. George is completely punch drunk within seconds as the powerful kicks addle his brain.

CRACK! An awesome front kick shoots high into the air like an express train. Her foot punches his jaw with such violence that it disintegrates before the devastating force separates his skull completely from his spine.
****
Whilst telling me her story, Clarissa had removed her bra letting her large breasts fall free. Then she unzipped my trousers and absent-mindedly stroked my dick. At the same time, her slowly pulsing strong body scissors made me grow rock hard as it reinforced the story of the lethal destruction she had inflicted with the fearsome power of her sexy muscled legs. Suddenly her muscled thighs released me and with a hungry look in her eyes, the grey-haired woman removed her knickers then pulled down my trousers and pants. “It’s time for you to enter the Dragon” she chuckled as she mounted my erection. “Ohhhh” I moaned as the heat of her furnace engulfed me. Slowly she started to ride me.
***
Part 6. Enter The Dragon
Joseph Kowalowski cowered behind his desk where he had watched in horror as the scary looking woman totally annihilated his best officer. She turned and fixed him with a cold penetrating stare that sent shivers down his spine. “Hello Kowalowski. It’s time we had a little chat” she said.

Scared stiff, he watched as the elegantly dressed grey haired woman stood before his desk and lifted a leg high up into the air, her skirt falling back as she held a perfect standing front splits. Joseph’s eyes automatically run along one leg past the blue nylon stockings clinging tightly to well-defined quadriceps and past the dark blue band of stocking top. Continuing along a dark blue suspender belt lying on a patch of firm tan skin and the irresistible lure of her exposed crotch covered by clinging white knickers. Moving on up the back of the raised leg, past large shapely hamstrings to the thick solid slabs of calve muscle to her thick ankles and stiletto-heeled shoe. He took in the amazing sight within a fraction of a second; the incongruity of that raw muscular power with sexy lingerie was strangely erotic.

Suddenly her leg descends like an axe and his colonial desk explodes into expensive matchwood. That triggers his flight response but the woman is too close. BORPH! Her foot powers it deep into his gut, lifting his feet from the floor. BAM! Her knee shoots up high straight into his jaw like a hammer. In total helplessness he sees her leg kick out bent at the knee sideways on to him then swing around straightening until it blasts his face BAM! He gets a bird’s eye view up her skirt as she turns and drives the other foot into his face BAM!. Dazed he feels her arm swing out around the top of his chest and then her body against his side, her hip brushing his. A foot swept away his legs then there is a moment of weightlessness as he rides over her hip and hits the floor.

No sooner had he landed, than the ghastly woman grabbed him and pulled him into her waiting legs. On his knees and forced to lean back at an angle, Joseph finds his arms and chest clamped exceedingly tight in a standing scissor hold. “That’s where I like to have the lower classes; on their knees between my legs” the woman tells him as he looks up into his captor’s face. “I could bust your arms with just a squeeze of my thighs. But you’re not going to be that lucky”.

Her hands reach down to rest upon the join of his shoulders on either side of his neck. “Why did you level an auction house in London?” she asks. “Arghh!” Kowalowski howled in agony as the woman’s fingers dug deep and grabbed a bundle of nerves. “Lucky your office is soundproofed. How considerate” she said. “Now answer me” her voice turned hard. He screams as it feels like she is ripping the nerves out of his body. “Ancient cryptographic device. Key to Bristlingdown diaries” he cries.
***
Clarissa stopped sliding up and down my erection then fixed me with a stare. I felt her vagina muscles grip me tight. Wow that felt good, I love women with powerful love muscles but I wanted to buck my hips to resume our lovemaking. “I know you’ve been working for Sir Humphrey Smthye-Jones of Bristlingdown Manor and that you found those diaries” she told me. “But did you know it is rumoured that they hold dark secrets of great antiquity. The Illumanti believe it leads to a source of unlimited power and wealth. The war pigs think it unlocks a weapon of mass destruction. Neither must ever get their hands on it”. Slowly twitching the hot channel surrounding my member to maintain my arousal she continued with her tale.
***
The woman’s fingers felt like steel pinchers twisting Joseph’s nerves to breaking point. “The device. Where is it?” she demanded. “Don’t know Arghh it’s true, it was gone when Mitchell got there. He sanitised the place to cover his tracks. Please no more” he begged.
***
Her pussy clamped tight as a clam. “So where is the device, Jim?” she asked as I gasped at the painful crush around my dick. “HMRC tell me you recently worked at St.Agatha’s in London and CCTV show you at Kensington snooping around Holland’s. Don’t deny it, Britain is a surveillance state and London is surveillance central. That’s why I brought you all the way here” she told me.

Stopped once more in the middle of intercourse with the heat of her box around my shaft, I was desperate to complete the act. “Clarissa please, I need to..” I moaned, but her pussy remained tight as she glared at me. “I don’t know, it was definitely there. A friend infiltrated the auction house as a cleaner and was meant to retrieve it but I think she got killed in the blast” I added quietly [JIMP#26]. “I’m so sorry, Jim. Truly I am” Clarissa said softly. “The war pigs never understand the human cost of their collateral damage and acceptable losses. My father was an officer in the Second World War. He was captured and made a POW. When I discovered the whole thing had been engineered to make a few incredibly wealthy men ever richer” she trailed off in thought. “I don’t understand” I said. “I will give you a copy of my thesis, the one they tried to suppress on a USB pen” she told me “Read it and then you’ll understand”.

The stern looking wrinkly face came towards me as the mature woman leant forward. Her muscular arms closed in around my head then pulled me with her as she flung herself backwards on the bouncy bed. I ended up kneeling, still impaled inside her. “Orrh” I grunted as powerful legs clamped around my hips pulling me so tight against her that I couldn’t move. Her love muscles twitched around my shaft, the sensations making me gasp with pleasure mixed with frustrated denial.

“You searched the web for masons and London below” she stated. I stared in surprise. “The ruling class exercise their right to monitor the activities of their subjects” she told me. Her strong thighs moved my body back and forth making me thrust into her like a human dildo. Then she stopped, teasing me, denying me release, using my lust against me. I couldn’t believe it; I was deep inside a woman yet she was still completely dominating me with her legs. “Explain your actions or I’ll break your hips” she said giving me a powerful squeeze for emphasis. That muscular grip made me gasp aloud. Knowing I had no choice, I told her about the trustees of St.Agatha’s and the symbol on the underground doorway through which Sir Templeforth fled [JIMP#29]. I also mentioned the excavations at Holland’s [JIMP#30]. “They are the tools of the Illuminati.” she told me. Powerless to resist, Clarissa’s legs pumped my body slowly inside her as she resumed her tale.
****
The terrible nerve wrenching pain stopped then the ghastly grey-haired woman grabbed the Director’s face and shoved it right between the top of her legs pulling it tight against her crotch. Hitching up her skirt she admired the way her strong athletic legs bulged in her stockings as she stood scissoring the man’s face. “My legs can exert a force many times stronger than a human skull can handle. Let me show you”. She squeezed so hard it felt like his skull is splitting. He screams into her knickers, the vibrations making her moan with pleasure. The pain in his skull got worst, as if his cheeks and jaw were about to implode under the terrible pressure; the plates of bone in his skull on the point of collapse.

Raising herself slowly onto her toes, the fearsome old dragon powers every last drop of energy through her mighty legs. Her quads swelled massively, each muscle large and bulging with raw power. The shrieking screams muffled by her crotch reached a crescendo bringing her to a long drawn out orgasm. In the throes of ecstasy, her legs involuntary tighten even more as she rides the waves of her lust, oblivious to anything else. The moment subsides and panting from her exertion, she opens her legs. The former director drops to the floor, his head grossly misshapen and bloody. “That’s the last operation you will direct against my country” she tells him, as she smoothes down her business jacket and dress.

From her handbag, she retrieves a packet of chewing gum and removes a multi-striped strip. Discarding the silver foil, she rolled the contents in her palms until she felt it getting warm. Opening the office door, she placed the sticky substance over the latch then closed it behind her. A few wisps of smoke escaped as the door fused under a brief burst of intense temperature then she turned to leave.
****
When she got to the part about her climax, I nearly shot my load until her legs and pussy clamped down in a brutal squeeze that left me crying out in pain. “Whoa boy! Come too soon” she chuckled. “Soon” she purred “Soon”. She kept me trapped like that until she had finished speaking. Then she unclamped my hips and I was stunned to find my dick being ejected out of her tunnel by well-developed love muscles.

With her legs wide, Clarissa’s mouth opened in a ghastly wide smile. “If you want to get back in, you’ll have to work for it. Worship me” she demanded. Completely turned on by this dreadful dangerous woman, I didn’t hesitate. She might look like an old dragon but she had the body of an Amazon goddess. Ignoring the wrinkles and haggard lines of her face, I kissed her mouth with growing passion. My lust went off the scale as our tongues entwined. As we kissed, my hands explored the muscles of her arm, which she duly flexed for me. The firmness of her large biceps driving me to kiss her with greater frenzy. I moved down to indulge myself in her large breasts before kissing my way down her taut washboard abs. Reaching her crotch and lying between her legs, I hesitated remembering the fate of the Director. Instead I ran my hand up the strong inner thigh muscles to her crotch and kissed and caressed her muscular thighs. “Oh please Clarissa, please let me in” I begged, absolutely mad with desire.

“Only if you promise to stop that device from getting into their hands” she said. “I promise” I replied in my lust craze. “Together we shall unlock the secrets of the red-eyes and restore the ruling class to their rightful place over the little people. The British Empire will rule the world once again” she told me exuberantly. Even in my sex-crazed state, I knew to keep quiet. “Enter the Dragon, Jim. Enter the Dragon” she told me. Like a man possessed I plunged myself deep inside her and started bucking my hips like a crazed rabbit.

In the morning I woke totally exhausted alone in my bed, my balls aching from the wild bouts of lovemaking and domination during the night. Clarissa might be a terrifying Dragon in her working life but she was a sexual demon in the bedroom.
***
The smartly dressed man handed the telephone towards the seated woman. “The president of the United States” he said. “Tell him that I will only speak with the organ grinder not the monkey” the Evil One snapped. With a gulp, he relayed the message. She can hear the squawk of indignation from the handset as she continues to sign death warrants for political activists daring to demand a true democracy.

After a while, the man hands the telephone towards her again. She takes it “Are you listening?” she says softly there’s a squawk from the other end of the line “Shut up and listen you pathetic little weasel” she shrieks, imaging the thin white haired man trembling at the other end. “If I see so much as the tiniest hint of an unauthorised military operation on my soil again” her voice hardens, sharp as a knife that could cut through stone “I’ll personally come over there and shove a war on terror right up your jacksie”. She disconnects the phone and hands it back to the man. “Thank you Charles that will be all” she says softly

 

 

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