Slowly BUTT surely
by Barbunny 
The power of the female lower body is unbelievable. But does this apply to all parts of it? 


The huge feminine butt sank on his sleeping face in an
inescapable motion, without warning. The enormous
massiveness of her gigantic butt seemed to encompass
his whole face completely. It was early in the
morning, much earlier than the usual wake-up squeeze,
and the strength with which her bottom engulfed him
was new-fashioned in their relationship. After all, it
was his own wife who was waking him up every morning
by slowly descending on his dozing face with her
beautifully shaped ass. She was the ultimate authority
in the house, and the chain of command, as they called
it, was pretty obvious in their marriage. But it all
came out of true love. And he really loved her. It
wasn’t in spite of the tremendous size of her
buttocks, it was because of it. Life’s too short, he
always said to himself, but that butt is too big. Too
big to ignore. He loved to get the benefit of the butt
every morning, the sensuous wriggling of his wife’s
ass on his sleeping face, always leaving a bit of
space, allowing him to laboriously breathe. And, as
they say, a healthy female squeeze now and then can
put things into perspective, the male head enters
first into this ample perspective.

But it was much different this morning. Ann’s
opinionated butt brutally came down on his face as if
it wanted to kill him. And they both knew she could.
Those gigantic mountains protruding from her body
could keep him down there as long as SHE wanted, and
there was nothing he could do about it. Their sheer
magnitude would retain him there if it took her the
rest of his life. Or if it TOOK his life, literally.
John was aware of that possibility long ago, but never
before was he so frightened, as she was now clamping
down on his breathless face with a tremendous pressure
that was off the charts. Like her rump, this
suffocation was too terrific to be true, in any way,
shape or squeeze. Ann crushed his head onto the
mattress with violence and outrage he would never have
believed possible, courtesy of his own beloved wife. A
sensational combination of bewilderment mixed with
admiration was spreading through his compressed skull,
as he panicked, feeling the head-processor feminine
posterior of his wife squeezing the jewels out of him.
She had made it clear long ago that her buttocks have
unlimited visiting rights to his face, but this time
there was no ‘fasten your seat belt’ warning, the way
there was each morning, as his wife would gradually
rotate her ample buns around his slumbering face. The
only belt that was fastened now was HER behind,
fastened onto its seat, namely his physically abused
face. He had always loved her from the buttom of his
heart, and yet there was uneasiness and anxiety of the
sheer size of her ass.

And then it all came back to him. It was yesterday,
when he told her about the new secretary at work,
Rita, and how her freshly arrived butt could match the
one of his wife, and then some. The sleek,
powerful-looking thighs of his wife began gathering
his head from behind, as she sat on him, facing his
feet, her hands on his upper body for support. John
simply couldn't get over the mass of her huge behind,
as her behind got over and around his head. Wrapping
her colossal thighs around his head behind her, she
hugged his face to her fat-yet-firm butt, crushing his
face against the vigorous firmness of her prodigious
ass. Although he still thought his secretary’s bottom
was larger than his wife’s, it evidently wasn’t so
smart to share this knowledge with Ann. His spouse’s
enormous thighs pressured their way onto both sides of
his squashed skull, while his face was violated,
forced right into what was called, according to his
wife’s executive order, Butts & Co.

My wife’s thighs are unbelievably strong, john thought
to himself, as he felt the tremendous strength and
imposing power of that palatable ass, shoved
forcefully against his face. I’m being actively raped
by my own unreliable wife’s butt, a butt that could
very well slaughter me without even recognizing it.
I’ve got to get out of here. It’s kind of hard to
think about my future, when my future is squeezing my
life out of me. As he studied the crushing thighs with
his hands, john shivered in complete awe at the
thought of being squeezed to death against this ass of
command. ‘I’m prepared to die’ he pondered, as his
face was buried so deeply in her cavernous butt, ready
for the squeeze-de-grace.

“What’s the name of this new secretary, John?” Ann
asked, releasing his head from her clamping ass,
keeping her thighs in place around his skull, ready
for the kill. John new he shouldn’t tell. It could
well make a bad situation worse. Much worse. He knew
all too well no one squeezes like Ann, his cherished
wife. The immense pressure she could exert with her
gigantic thighs was absolutely unbelievable. And he
was well aware of that simple fact. And he was also
profoundly familiar with her loving behind, although
she had never applied such a suffocating force through
that part of her female anatomy. He strongly believed
that what goes around, cums around, around his abused
head, that is, in a crushingly, feminine way.

“She means nothing to me, really.” He said to his
wife’s butt, a butt that was proudly presented above
his crushed face, threatening to settle down on him
once again if a wrong answer was declared. “You’ve got
to believe me, Ann. Her bottom is much more…” John was
interrupted in mid sentence, as his own wife’s angry
thighs weren’t allowing him to finish. From her ass
point of view, it was so simple, so natural, yet in
the same time so devastating to her husband’s head, so
unfortunate to his existence. I’m not going to
tolerate such a misbehaved attitude from my husband,
Ann thought to herself, knowing she has the means to
thoroughly interrogate him. Clamping her tremendous
thighs around his skull, she gruesomely crushed the
spirit out of her husband, preparing him for the
truth-squeeze. It’s a measure they both knew she
possesses, yet she had never used it before.
Nevertheless, deep inside, they both appreciated the
sheer strength in her considerable thighs, knowing the
truth-squeeze is much more reliable than, say,
hypnosis.
    
“I need to know her name, John, and you know I love to
get on top of things,” Ann softly whispered to her
husband, knowing he was still attentive to her vast
butt, feeling his deep breath on her behind. “I will
not tolerate dishonesty on your part, and you know it,
my dear. And if you still don’t, I’d advise you to
take a good look at what’s in front of your eyes,” she
said, her voice sexy, sensual, feminine. “You already
know the thing I love to administer the most is
suffocation, and I’m beginning to have the feeling
yours is fornication. How about we’ll make that
suffornication, as my girlish thighs hold you
accountable for your transgressions, or, if you like,
squeeze you accountable for them.” 

“But I really am telling the truth, darling,” John
said to his wife’s ass, his eyes closed, his hands
roaming around her outrageous thighs, knowing he would
have to do better than that, knowing he would have to
tactfully petition the ass of his wife to allow him to
stay among the living, let alone really avoiding
thigh-inflicted injury, escaping the ordeal unscathed.
“I love you so much, Ann, and I don’t mind when you
get a handle on my head. You can even get a thighdle
on it, as you always say, but please, Ann, please
don’t kill me,” he whispered into her behind,
wondering how long it will take her thighs to thighten
around his head again.

“You heard me, I know you did” Ann hissed, slowly
constricting her inner thighs onto the sides of his
head, bracing her hands on his chest for support. “You
know we had certain codes of squeezing ethics, my
darling, and you know I had never used the
truth-squeeze on you before, but If a simple
ass-debriefing is not enough for you, honey, you know
I’ll have to use my better methods of extracting the
truth from you, don’t you? You just leave me no other
choice, really, and, as they say in Hollywood, the
squeeze must go on.” And with that, she started to
really pour on the awesome pressure, as the inner
parts of her muscular thighs began to crush on his
head from all sides in ‘the silencer’, much like the
cylinder attached to a barrel of a pistol, rendering
him speechless and his head molested.

Opening her legs wide on the bed behind John’s head,
her thighs agape, Ann rose from above his face,
waiting to see if her poor husband understood the
strong message her thighs had just handed down to him.
Or, more accurately, assed down on him. And then,
while she was patiently waiting, all of a sudden it
happened. She could not believe how fool can he get,
when presented with all that female power in front of
him. Clasping his arms around her ample thighs, he
took a deep breath, swiftly lifting his body through
her wide-open thighs, in a feeble attempt to escape
the connubial shrine of the leggy strength that he was
mere seconds ago trapped in. Ann’s instincts couldn’t
let it go unsqueezed. Whenever her almighty authority
is questioned by her husband, there must be severe
squeezing consequences. There had to be, there’s no
other choice. Her own husband has got to understand
that his cowardly head is not beyond her thighs’
jurisdiction. It’s more likely to be in between them.

Throwing her womanly legs backwards in the speed of
light, Ann caught her husband’s neck in between her
sculpted calves, administering a sudden burst of a
quick squeeze. Keeping his ears free of feminine,
powerhouse calves, she lifted her body up above his
torso, supporting herself with her hands on both of
his legs. “I had always wanted to do you this way so
much, but I never thought you really deserved such a
huge amount of bottom discipline, honey,” Ann
smilingly said, looking at his tremulous feet, knowing
she is going to make her own beloved husband
familiarize himself again with her hard-to-please butt
in a new and exciting way. “It appeared in my dreams
so many times, sweetheart, so I guess you’d better
know at least how it’s called,” she voiced, crossing
her feet on the back of his head, making her calves
grow on both vulnerable sides of his neck, and she
wasn’t even squeezing yet. “You always say you
shouldn’t have to put up with my strong calves, honey,
well, let’s see what happens when you’re put in
between them,” she whispered, slowly increasing the
calves-induced pressure on his neck.

“In my dreams it’s called the combination lock,
darling,” John heard his wife’s gentle, soft voice, as
he felt his neck beginning to lose space to the
feminine, protruding calves that were tightening
themselves around his jugular area. “I never knew
whether that meant a combination of squeezing and
suffocating on my legs’ part, or a combination of awe
and fear on your head’s part, fruitcake, so why don’t
WE,” she brought the upper parts of her feet towards
each other as she was saying the word, causing her
sticking-out calves to move inwards on his neck,
“check,” Ann relaxed her feet back, adding room in
between them, enabling his crushed neck to have a
temporary reprieve from her overflowing calves,
“THIS,” she produced the maneuver again, pressing her
huge calves on his gullet, suspending his breath for a
moment, holding his blood circulation in check, “out,”
the awesome squeeze was again graciously withdrawn
from his abused windpipe, as John braced himself for
the grand finale…

“RIGHT NOW,” those were the last words he was able to
clearly hear, as he was fluctuating in and out of
consciousness by his own treasured wife, knowing it
was useless to resist her strength anymore,
understanding the simple fact that she was much
stronger than himself, surrendering to her physical
legs’ superiority.

“Now,” Ann girlishly said, momentarily releasing his
trapped trachea from her exacting, muscular legs, “I
think I have asked you a question, my dear, and
feeling the power in my female legs, faced with the
strength they can generate, I guess I deserve an
answer, am I not, honey,” she casually gripped his
masculine neck again with her protruding calves,
sensually gyrating her chiseled muscles around his
neck, making him feel her ownership over him, as far
as his male body was concerned. 

John was stuck between a rock and a hard calve. He
knew he shouldn’t tell. He knew it could very well be
the end of his very life if he made his wife mad while
positioned in such a vulnerable, defenseless place
like the space between her hard legs. He glanced at
her huge ass, hoping he would be able to feel it again
with his face, with his cheeks, before she decides to
squeeze just a tad too tight. And with such a
tremendous strength in her legs, it could very well,
John knew, happen inadvertently, and that was the most
frightening aspect of it all. His own appreciated
wife, while squeeze-playing with him, accidentally
kills him in between her dangerous legs. He stared at
her bountiful behind again, knowing he can’t reach it
with his face unless Ann allows this it happen. Let’s
consider that my last meal, he thought to himself,
realizing she was still waiting for an answer.

“You know I’m your loved husband and I adore you
dearly, but this Rita and her huge ass mean nothing to
me, really.” John moaned, feeling the crushing
potential of his wife’s ominous calves growing by the
minute. “You know I like your rump much more, and if
there was a way I could convince you, a way I could
show you my honesty, you know I would worship your
bottom like there was no tomorrow. If you only let me
nuzzle my face on your broad butt, you’ll feel my vote
of confidence in our equal marriage. Please let my
cheeks feel your womanhoo,” John was stopped again in
mid sentence, as his wife tightened the awesome grip
on his trapped neck, contemplating whether he should
be granted the desired sensation.

And then, suddenly and without warning, it happened.
In a one quick motion Ann brought her enormous calves,
together with his ensnared head, upwards, smashing his
face into her femininely-hard butt muscles, only to
slowly bring them back, straightening her strong legs
again, John’s head involuntarily follows. “A vote of
confidence, eh? What do you say we’ll make it more
like a vote of crushing confidence, confidence in the
power of my rump, a longstanding confidence, a
THICKstanding confidence,” she violently raised her
powerful calves again, his abused face is getting to
know her ass up, tremendous and personal, as he was
pounding on her huge thighs with his fists for all he
was worth, what with him being the male piece in their
marriage.

Lifting her immense calves – his poor head in between
– towards her waiting behind for the third time, Ann
did the impossible. In a one strong, ass-inclined
motion, she…

End of part one.
Rita WILL be in part two, and I promise her behind
will be stronger than ever.
Hope it’s good, and up to your expectations, my
friend.
And to all of you out there, want a tailored story,
too?
Just tell me, and remember, I can make your worst
fantasies come true. It’s the power of the word, you
know.
Barbunny3111@yahoo.com