KEEPER OF THE LEGJAIL
By Kandor
Chapter Three, The Scissored Shopping Spree

The following is the third chapter in a story about Susan, a powerful young woman 
who for fun will kidnap the occasional male and keep him prisoner in her legjail 
for as long as it suits her fancy - and her needs.

	Susan snapped on the bureau lamp, stabbing shafts of brilliant agony into 
Robbie's eyes. It felt like he'd stepped out of an eternity of darkness into a 
cauldron of pure light.
	Robbie had endured hours and hours between Susan's thighs, trapped in her 
pussy and ass, a prisoner of the young woman's legjail. They'd met at a bar, she 
scissored him, rode him piggyback home and then spent the entire night forcing him 
to oralize her, front and back.
	It  was now late Saturday morning. She'd woken up, unhinged her muscular 
legs from his neck and announced something, he wasn't sure what. He heard 
'shopping' and 'mall', but he wasn't able to focus. An entire sleep cycle locked 
in a woman's dead-weight thighs had fogged his brain.
	He was lying on the bed, the room spinning. He squeezed his eyes shut so 
tightly to slow down the rotation that tears ran out the corners, and still the 
room spun. Susan knew he wasn't going anywhere.
	"Funny how the cumulative effect of a scissor hold will render a man 
immobile for a good long while," she laughed, retrieving some clothes from her 
dresser and dancing off to the shower.
	Rob couldn't move, his head was pounding with a blood-deprivation headache 
and when he tried to speak, his larynx only gave up a low crackle.
	"How many...." was all he could manage.
	"Thirty-two," she called from the bathroom before turning on the shower. 
"You passed out in my scissors 32 times. Then I lost count."
	By the time she'd finished, Rob had managed to muster the strength to walk 
to the kitchen and insert his head in the deep, old-fashioned ceramic sink, 
running cold water over the back of his sore neck. When he looked up, his vision 
had cleared. Susan was in it. Naked. Wet. Smiling.
	"Come squeegee me," she said, lifting her hard arms, the thick pads of tit 
muscle rising above the rocky ridges of her muscular abs. "Come on, we've got 
shopping to do."
	Rob staggered to her and attached his trembling hands to her bicep, 
squeezing down and pulling off a silky sheet of water. The soft muscle still felt 
hard in his hand as he moved arm to arm, then to her back, wiping off her hard 
delts, down over the trap triangles, to the front to palm off her belly, stopping 
between body parts to wipe his hands off on a towel she'd draped around her neck. 
She smiled at him, not saying a word, just smiling, watching him work, 
occasionally moaning.
	"On your knees," she hissed. "Do my legs now, do the bars of your prison."
	Rob obeyed, kneeling before her, his eyes level with the moist thatch of 
her neatly trimmed pussy. Little beads of water clung to the tips of the silky 
muff. Rob licked his lips, realizing that for all the sexual contact she'd had 
last night, courtesy of his mouth, he hadn't had any.
	"In due time, my little prisoner, in due time," Sue growled, pushing his 
face away. "Do what you're told."
	Rob attached his hands around the thick wet columns of one upper thigh and 
slid them down,  a wave of warm water curling away from his gently pressing hands, 
splashing to the floor as his fingers closed around her rock-hard calf. He went 
back up and did the other. Susan sighed, clapped her hands slowly three times to 
applaud his effort.
	"Well done, prisoner," she said, opening her legs and hearing him whimper 
as she did. "As a reward, I won't make you pass out this time."
	She shuffled forward and took him in a standing reverse headscissors, the 
back of his head flush against the sweet curve of her lower ass, her iron thighs 
braided around his head. She laughed and hunched forward, dancing them to her 
bedroom where she got dressed, slipping on her bra and tight t-shirt. She snapped 
a jean miniskirt around her slim hips and dropped a pair of white socks at her 
feet.
	"Put 'em on me, slave," she growled, snapping her legs on him for emphasis.
	Robbie's neck burned in pain as his shaky hands pulled on Susan's socks up 
to the thick sweep of her chiseled calves. She pointed to a pair of brown loafers. 
He put those on her, too. She finally let go, humping him back to crash against 
the bed. He sat, groggy, pain on his face and stars swimming before his eyes.
	"Whaddya think?" Susan said, swirling around, the thick muscles in her leg 
tensing as she did. "Kinda schoolgirlish, huh?"
	Robbie focused on her and saw two, three of them. He rubbed his eyes.
	"Ah, you'll be fine in a few minutes," she said, grabbing him by the wrists 
and lifting him up. "Sometimes after I scissor a guy for a few hours around the 
head, the pressure in his ears seems to foul up his equilibrium. I'll leave my 
thighs off your ears for awhile, how's that?"
	"That would be nice," he grumbled, staggering to the kitchen.
	Pain again, sudden pain. But not on his ears. His ribs ached, the bones 
bending under pressure. Susan had jumped on his back for a piggyback ride down the 
stairs, lacing her iron thighs around his sides and crushing in the scissors. She 
laughed as he howled in pain.
	"Hey, I said your ears, not your ribs," she laughed. "You're in my legjail 
for the weekend, remember? That's ALL weekend, dude! Now down the stairs and if 
you drop me, man, you don't wanna know..."
	He knew, he knew, so he walked slowly, a step at a time, down the tight 
stairwell to the back door and to her driveway, all the while with Susan slowly 
pulsating her iron adductors on his bending ribs. He made it to her car, the 
driver's side, as she dangled the keys in front of him.
	"Here, you drive," she said, handing him the keys. "Take your mind off the 
pain."
	"Hey, court is in session again, huh?"
	Robbie turned to see a young girl, 18 or so, in tiny cutoffs, rainboots and 
t-shirt, holding a bucket and hose. She'd come from around the back of the 
building and was about to wash her car. The long-haired girl smiled broadly.
	"Yup, you bet, isn't it always?" Susan laughed as Robbie struggled to 
unlock the door with her attached to his back.
	"How long's the sentence, the weekend?" the girl asked.
	"Indeed it is," Susan said. "Franny, you be around later?"
	Franny beamed, her dark hair bouncing on her shoulders as she nodded.
	"Good, I may, uh, need some help subduing the prisoner," Susan cooed. "I'll 
let you know."
	"Yes!!!" Franny squealed, slamming her meaty thighs together in a way that 
made Robbie jump.
	Somehow, he slid behind the wheel still with Susan attached to him. She 
leaned back to the passenger side but left her legs glued to his belly and back, 
pitching him forward in an awkward position. Her locked feet were against the 
driver's door. He started the car, and looked at her plaintively.
	"Please, I can't drive like this, your legs...." he squealed, as he felt 
the pressure increase on his diaphragm.
	"Believe me, it can be done, I've done it before - a lot," Susan growled. 
"Now go."
	The trip to the mall took about a half hour, 10 minutes longer than it 
should, but Robbie was driving slowly, looking around desperately, trying to make 
eye contact with a cop. He saw none. Susan leaned back on her seat and slowly 
pulsed her thick thighs on her prisoner.
	"Do you really think a cop is gonna believe I kept you prisoner, that I 
abducted you, with just THESE!" she growled, pumping the meaty gams down hard on 
him until he squealed in breathless pain. "Trust me, they won't. I know most of 
the cops in town anyway, so you haven't got a prayer. Get us to the mall, I want 
you to buy me some stuff for later."
	They finally made it and Robbie pulled in behind the huge, multilevel 
building. He somehow managed to get out of the Altima with Susan attached. She 
shifted positions to piggy him into the mall, again looking like a carefree young 
couple in playful love. Only the look of gray pain on his face might suggest 
otherwise.
	"Get us to Au Bon Pan, that muffin place," she hissed into his ear, adding 
the lacework of her powerful arms around his neck to the constant grind of 
scissoring legs on his sides. "I'm hungry. Keeping a man prisoner in my legjail 
gives me a helluva appetite. Oh, you can eat too if you'd like."
	Robbie couldn't think about food. The prospect of putting something in his 
stomach only to have it squeezed out again didn't appeal to him.
	Once inside, no one really noticed. Not as Robbie brought them the counter 
and ordered Susan's muffin and coffee, not as he carried it - and her - to the 
middle of the mall, not as he sat down, as she ordered him, on a decorative cement 
seating area. What they did notice is when she sat behind him on an upper level in 
the almost amphitheater set up popular in malls across the country, and draped her 
long, muscular legs around his shoulders. At first she didn't hook her ankles, she 
just looped them down around his sides, pulling them in behind his back, which 
sort of forced his head forward at a painful angle. He groaned in pain.
	"Oh shut up, I don't even have my ankles locked...yet," she growled, 
munching her muffin.
	When she finished, she sat back, sipping her coffee, letting her ankles 
come up to casually lock in front of him, the creak of her leather shoes twisting 
around each other almost as loud as his moans of pain as her tight inner thighs 
roped around his neck. Her denim mini rode up exposing a lot of rugged thigh. Old 
people walking by looked in disgust, young men looked frightened and young women, 
usually the ones with the young men, looked interested. One middle-aged woman with 
big, hard thighs stopped to chat. Her husband meekly stood by.
	"Interesting way to control a man," she said to Susan.
	"Oh, the best, and the easiest," Susan said, lapsing into familiar banter 
she'd had with many other interested women. "You just put the scissor on him and 
squeeze. You don't even have to squeeze, you can just hold him like this."
	Robbie groaned, eyes closed against the pain. He opened them to look at the 
man.
	"Help me..." he begged softly.
	"You shut up," the woman and Susan said simultaneously. They laughed out 
loud.
	Susan looked around, one way, then the other, to make sure no one was 
looking.
	"Wanna see something really cool?" she hissed. "I'll knock him out in my 
scissors! Only takes a sec."
	"Yeah, do it!" the big woman gushed, sitting next to them, hiking her loose 
shorts up tree-trunk thighs.
	Susan powered the hold down and instantly the blood to Robbie's brain 
stopped, knocking him out cold. The woman let out a cry of surprise. Susan let up 
and Robbie's color returned, as he grunted awake.
	"Holy fucking shit, that was incredible, he was really out!" the woman 
said.
	Susan explained the procedure of cutting off the blood supply by 
compressing the arteries of the neck. Seconds later, the woman's wimpy husband was 
caught fast in her huge legs, his head all but gone in the fleshy clamp.
	"You have big legs, which are good for headscissoring, but you want to 
focus your squeeze on your adductors, those thick ropes on the inside of your 
thighs," Susan advised. "Go for it."
	The man screamed as the big woman squeezed - and passed out 10 seconds 
later. Susan squealed with delight, clapping her hands. Both women sat side by 
side, their strong legs gripping their respective victims. The big girl let her 
husband go and once he woke up, they left, after Susan was lathered with thanks 
for showing the woman a great and easy way to dominate her husband.
	"No problem," Susan called after her. "I love teaching!"
	She let Robbie out of her headlock and stood up, stretching her long legs, 
standing on her tiptoes to bunch up her huge calf muscles above her white socks.
	"On your knees and pull those up, prisoner," she yawned. "I hate it when my 
socks fall down."
	Robbie obeyed, and while he was down there she slipped the calves around 
his neck and jaws and gave him a tremendous 10-second burst of scissor power, 
nearly knocking him out again.
	"Hey, they opened a Victoria's in here!" she yelled, letting him go and 
standing him up to point him toward the store. "Let's go!"
	She jumped on his back again for the ride, her iron limbs lacing low around 
his tender ribs. They staggered inside. A rather snooty saleswoman met them.
	"May I help you?" she said, eyeballing the couple up and down.
	"Yeah, I want to see something in a teddy, and some sexy undies, 
crotchless, and nylons and garters, OK?" Susan said, pushing her legs on Robbie's 
sides.
	"You can't very well look at merchandise like that now, can you?" the young 
woman said in a snobbish a fashion as Susan could stand.
	Susan smiled and jumped down off Robbie, who took in a chestful of air and 
leaned against a nearby floor stand, almost falling down. Susan put her arm around 
the girl and walked her toward the back of the store, away from the main section. 
Robbie winced as he heard the unmistakable sound of flesh-on-face and then the 
girl whimper in pain.
	"Now, are you gonna do what I asked you to do or do I squeeze until this 
excuse for a head pops like a zit?" he heard Susan growl.
	"Iwilliwilliwilliwill!!!" he heard the girl cry out.
	Seconds later, Susan walked out behind the saleswoman, who was staggering 
side to side, rubbing her jaw, working the muscles,tears in her eyes. The big red 
marks on the sides of her face matched the ones on Susan's inner thighs. Robbie 
welcomed the fact someone else was suffering for a change. But not for long; Susan 
quickly jumped back on his back and rescissored his ribs.
	"Now, those items?" Susan asked politely.
	Twenty minutes later, they walked out of the store, Robbie's credit card 
200 bucks to the bad, bag fulls of skimpy clothes in his hand.
	"You'll like it when you see it on me, babe," Susan hissed in his ear. 
"Now, over to sporting goods."
	They waltzed into the store, and all salesmen's eyes turned to them. She 
had them go to the weight area, where she got off. A salesman came up.
	"Uh, can I help you?" he asked, eyeballing the legs of the woman before 
him.
	"Yeah, I just want to see how strong this ab lift stand is," she said, 
backing up to the rack with the extended arms, designed for a person to lean on 
those arms and then lift their legs up to strengthen the lower belly.
	"Pretty strong, why?" the man asked.
	"I want to know if it's strong enough for me to do leg lifts while I 
bodyscissor a man," she said plainly.
	"While you ....what?" the man asked.
	"Get on your knees, I'll show you," Susan said, pointing to the floor.
	The man shrugged and knelt before her. Susan straddled him, hugged his back 
high in her thighs and locked her feet under him. He winced and was just starting 
to complain when she hoisted herself back onto the stand and started sweeping her 
locked legs up - with him scissored between them.
	"One! Two! Three!!" she counted, the groaning man grabbing at her legs as 
he was completely swept up off the floor.
	Other salespeople stood by, as did a few customers, eyes wide and mouth 
open, while Susan effortlessly did 20 reps with the man clenched tightly in her 
legs, his cries of pain urging her on.
	"Yeah, it holds," she shrugged after she finished, letting herself down and 
the man out of her legs.
	Robbie sighed and turned away from her so she could jump back up on him for 
the ride out of the store.
	"Fucking Chris, man, she ruined you, dude," one of the man's co-workers 
laughed.
	"Fuck off, man, her legs were too much," he said, rubbing his sides as they 
all watched Robbie carry his warden out into the mall.
	They hit a few more stores, Susan attached to him the whole way. Robbie 
checked his watch; they'd been shopping for three and a half hours, his ribs were 
killing him and his legs ached from the weight of carrying her around. His head 
felt only slightly better, his balance restored, from the lack of her thighs 
scissoring him for the last few hours.
	"Can....can we go?" he asked, running his tired hands down to the locked 
juncture of her socked ankles.
	"Sure, Robbie, where to?" Susan teased, pulsating her thick cords of inner 
thigh meat on his tender midsection. "Tell me, what do you like, Robbie, what do 
you like to do on a Saturday afternoon?"
	"Be alone?" he tried.
	"No really," she said, directing him out of the mall toward her car.
	"Uh, go to a ballgame, I guess, but..."
	"Perfect!!" Susan yelled, tensing her big legs brutally hard on him until 
he cried out loud. "There's a softball tournament going on just down the street! 
Let's take it in. Hey, you'll get some rest, we can sit in the bleachers."
	Robbie groaned in pain as he opened her car door. The weekend was just 
about at the halfway point and he felt like he'd been prisoner of her legjail for 
years. If he survived, he told himself, he'd never talk to another woman in a bar 
again...

(CHAPTER FOUR: "Squeeze Play," spending a few tight innings at a local ballgame)