Ultimate Power Ultimately Corrupts - Chapter 1 - The Cheerleader
By Silentcrs, silentc123-mail@yahoo.com
Give young women power and they may not use it ethically


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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