BREAKING IN THE NEW GUY




    She came at me like a freight train, 5-10, 135 pounds of sinewy, rockhard 
muscle. Launching herself at me, her thick legs found their target as we 
crashed to the gym floor, me a victim of her flying headscissors.
    Amy was pissed, and when Amy's pissed, you pay the price. The 16-year-old 
gymnast was angry at me, her gym teacher, for daring to yell at her in front 
of the other girls in phys ed. But the dark-haired, olive-skinned beauty had 
it coming, she'd been impudent, mouthed off at me and I, being the new 
teacher in school, had to lay down some rules.
    Now Amy was laying down short, staccato bursts of incredible scissor 
power, her thick angry thighs vibrating with muscular intensity against the 
sides of my head. She was laying on the mats and had my skull engulfed in 
teen girl thigh, her tiny shorts riding high on those tree trunk legs, her 
short white socks and sneaks twisted round each other as she tortured me.
    "Atta girl, Ames, you go, girl!" 
    "Put the meat to him, girl, crush him like a fucking egg!!"
    "Do the wave, c'mon, honey, do the fucking wave!!"
    The other girls coaxing her, Amy was a firebrand of non-stop power, now 
doing a move that can only be described as a worm maneuver, putting her hands 
up behind her head, palms down and then rocking her body, lifting her torso, 
then hips, then legs, rocking up and down, back and forth, all the while 
punishing me in her relentless thighs as the overall motion forced us both to 
hunch our way down the mats toward the gym door - and a crowded hallway.
    Amy's scissors were legendary in school, I was later to learn, and now 
she was brutalizing me in ways I never thought possible for a teenage girl. 
Her huge, muscular thighs bulged widely around my sweaty head as we wormed 
our way toward the door, a gauntlet of cheering girls urging her on. By the 
time we reached the door, I was nearly passed out. The girls kicked it open 
and dozens of wide-mouthed students passed by, watching and laughing. Amy had 
done this before, it was nothing they hadn't seen.
    Just before going under, I saw a stern-faced Ms. Kenshaw standing at the 
door way, hands on her thick hips, one eyebrow raised as she looked down at 
us.
    "Mind telling me just WHAT you are doing between the thighs of an 
underage girl, Mr. Kandor?" she growled.
    I couldn't answer, Amy's thighs had cinched up tight and she squeezed the 
voice from me. Though I wasn't to blame, the blame would lie with me; Amy, it 
seems, had scissored Ms. Kenshaw enough times herself to never get blamed for 
anything.
    With one murderous hip thrust, Amy knocked me out in her muscular thighs. 
The bell rang, class was over and she left me, sleeping, on the gym floor.
=========



ANGELA'S ASSES

    For Tom, all sight and sound had left him. The only thing left was the 
smell.
    Angela, his new wife, was sitting on his face with such fury, with such 
vengeance, with such all-encompassing power, he couldn't see or hear a thing. 
But as his nose penetrated the grimy ring of her sweaty asshole, the smell 
was the only sensation left him and one he'd have gladly given up right now.
    Married only 10 hours, they were in their honeymoon sweet in New York 
City when Angela, a short, thick brunette with a pear-shaped body and huge 
but very shapely ass, laid down the new ground rules for their marriage, 
showing Tom a side of her he'd never seen.
    "Thomas, I am dominant, very dominant, and for the rest of our lives you 
will service this," she'd said, stripping down to bra and panties and turning 
to show him her huge, white ass that dwarfed the tiny black thong she wore. 
"You will kiss it, smell it, eat it, clean it with your tongue, worship it 
with your entire head, your whole being. Are we clear on this?"
    Angrily, Tom rose from the bed where he was sitting, but seconds later, 
Angela was perched happily on his face, his nose ensconced in the gritty 
o-ring of her wet ass, after she'd pulled aside her thong. All light left 
him, all sound was gone, there was just the smell of Angela's thick ass as 
she ground down on him spreading her big buttcheeks wider and wider in her 
hands to totally devour his moaning head up her full ass.
    She sat him that way for nearly an hour, playing with her hairy pussy and 
sending sheets of girl cum washing down his throat, as his mouth was firmly 
into the folds of her rapacious cunt. She then spun the other way, putting 
her titanic thighs together to form a seal over his face, again blinding him, 
this time opening the wide buttery lips of her asshole to fit over his mouth 
as she forced him to lick her anus clean. Then she facesat him sideways, one 
way, then the other, all the while devouring his moaning head in the wide 
berth of her butt.  For variety, she'd bump him up against the wall and back 
into him, spreading her cheeks with her hands and chewing at his crying face 
until it disappeared into the demanding maw of her tireless rump. She was a 
woman with one ass, but an ass used in so many different ways, it seemed like 
many.
    "The grand finale, Thomas," she hissed, many hours later as the sun rose 
over the city and she'd been dominating him up her ass for what seemed an 
eternity. "The grand finale."
    She perched on his face, spread her cheeks as wide as possible and then 
opened up the wet ring of her asshole to chew at his face, drawing it deeper 
and deeper inside. She was a woman fond of anal sex and had taken many huge 
cocks up her ass over the years, and the stretching proved beneficial now as 
Tom's entire face disappeared into the gaping wound of her wide-open 
shitchute. He gagged and tried to breath, but Angela's thick, hungry ass cut 
off his air. And he passed out cold.
    Angela climbed off and laughed, rolled over and slept like a baby.
====



SUBSTITUTE SCISSORS

    Nancy stood at the front of the class, six feet, 250 pounds of angry 
redheaded substitute teacher. The kids were being incredibly obnoxious, as 
eighth graders can be, more so when they have a new teacher to torment. 
Robbie was the lead asshole, as far as Nancy could figure. She picked him out 
in a hurry, the ringleader, the kid who makes the most noise, causes the most 
fuss, the one the other kids look to. He was the one to crush.
    "Robbie, come here now, please," Nancy said, sliding her thick ass back 
onto her desk, her lower legs exposed in the medium-length skirt she wore, 
her knees and thighs bare above nylon knee highs. She crossed her top leg and 
it creased mightily along the shinbone. Robbie seemed not to notice as he 
diffidently sashayed up before her.
    "Robbie, you will behave in my class," Nancy said evenly, leaning back on 
the desk with her hands in a casual manner. "If you don't, I'll have to 
humiliate you in front of all your classmates. Do you want that?"
    Robbie laughed in her face. "Forget that noise, lard-ass subbie! 
Humiliate me? How? By eating more than me at lunch?"
    Robbie turned to face his laughing mates and then turned back to Nancy. 
She smiled evily.
    "I warned you," she hissed.
    Robbie never saw her legs move but felt them. The big woman lashed out 
with one leg, spun him around with it to face the class, then hooked the 
other around his front to reel him in, slam-locking her ankles together, 
sending her gigantic, muscular thighs around his sides and bending his ribs 
to the breaking point. Robbie, in less than one second, had gone from 
laughing braggart to whimpering scissor victim.
    "Now, Robert, will...you...behave?" Nancy growled, powering the last 
three words with increasingly strong scissor jolts until Robbie felt as if he 
were being squeezed in half.
    "Pleeas.....can't....breathe...." Robbie winced, tears rolling down his 
face as he used his hands to try pulling apart the amazon's ankles, an 
impossible feat.
    "Oh, I know you can't, as you breathe out, I squeeze in, so you won't 
breathe, either," she said calmly. "You either submit and agree to be a good 
little boy, or I scissor you until you pass out. Got it?"
    Robbie put his head back in agony and Nancy leaned farther back onto the 
desk, extending her incredibly long legs and squeezing even harder. Her 
billowy dress, worn in big size to hide her rather fat body, was hiked far up 
her gargantuan thighs, which were anything but fat. The hefty woman's body 
bulk over the years guaranteed unusually large, muscular legs, just by virtue 
of having to carry all that weight above them around. Nancy's creamy white 
thighs were etched and lined in no-nonsense muscle, deep creases down the 
sides separating her pulsating quads and hunky hamstrings. Below, her 
kneehighs had fallen to her ankles to reveal bulbous mounds of calf meat, 
thick muscle rolling above the fallen nylon. And all of it was crushing the 
life out of the 13-year-old boy scissored between them.
    "Do....you...SUBMIT!" she yelled, powering down harder.
    He couldn't speak, but only nod furiously. She laughed and spun around to 
face the blackboard, taking him with her.
    "Write 100 times, 'Substitute Nancy's Scissors Rule!'" she growled. "Get 
to it."
    With trembling hand, Robbie picked up the chalk and began writing. Nancy 
let up just enough to let him breathe, quivering her relentless thigh meat on 
his agonized sides, bruising his ribs and reminding him that with one sharp 
jolt, she could snap those bones like kindling. The class was dead silent 
behind him. When he was done, she spun them around, unlocked her legs. He 
slumped to his knees.
    "Turn around," she ordered him, and he obeyed, facing her huge legs as 
she sat on the desk. "Pull those nylons up over my calves. Now."
    He obeyed, and then she ordered him to stand and turn. She booted him in 
the ass, sending him back to his seat where he sat, head down, sobbing into 
his desk.
    "Now, class, open your history books to page 321," she said, smoothing 
her dress over her well-worked thighs.
    The only sound to be heard besides Robbie's sobs was the frantic rustling of 
pages.