DOMINANT DANCER
 
Tom sat by himself behind a table at the far end of the dimly lit bar, 
trying, as Bob Seeger coincidentally sang it on the juke box, to get his 
courage up. 

He clutched the beer mug handle in one of his big hands, lifting it to 
his dry lips and feeling it rush down his gullet like rainwater down a 
dry, mud-cracked creek. He wasn't the nervous type, usually, but Tracy 
made him nervous, very, very nervous. 

The gorgeous brunette was swinging everything she had on stage, and she 
had plenty, at least as far as Tom was concerned. Her long brown hair 
was curled just so, enough to make it bounce, sultry and silky, off her 
near-naked shoulders as she bobbed, weaved, and ground up on that stage. 
She was a very muscular young woman, her 135 pounds packed rock-hard and 
solid on her 5-foot-6 frame, arms a river of sinew and tendon dancing 
under olive skin, and her legs, those legs .... Thick, muscular calves 
rippled above the high-heel shoes she wore to dance in, a miracle of 
balance if ever there was one, and thighs that looked as if they could 
crush a beer keg, huge, round, cut slabs of steel, the slight sheen of 
sweat that formed on them as she undulated on stage accentuating the 
bulging meat under that silky skin. 

Tom put the beer down and instantly his throat went dry as a popcorn's 
fart again. Up came the beer. Down went the beer. And so it went, back 
and forth until he'd consumed just enough to make him brave but not 
nearly enough to make him stupid. He stopped drinking, not wanting to 
cross the line from the former to the latter. Tracy finished her stage 
gig, nearly naked now save for a thin, lucky ribbon of material that was 
her g-string sandwiched between the cheeks of that insanely gorgeous 
ass. She sauntered off, each thick ass ham twitching with sexy muscle as 
she moved, her body a vision of fluid muscle. 

Tom slugged down the last of the beer and walked toward the backstage 
area, eager to talk to the powerful woman of his subservient dreams. He 
rounded a smoky corner down a narrow hallway and came face-to-chest with 
the biggest bouncer he'd ever seen, no easy trick since Tom stood at 6-
3, 250 pounds himself. The big dark-faced man stood firm, crossed 
massive arms across an even more massive chest and blocked Tom's entry 
to the dancer's dressing room. 

"Just want to talk to Tracy, that's all," Tom said, craning his head 
back to look up at the no-necked lummox blocking his path. "No harm in 
that." 

"There will be if you don't fucking screw," the barrel with a mouth 
breathed down on Tom. "Take a hike, pal." 

Tom had just enough beer in him to put him ever-so-slightly over the 
line to the stupid zone and now he poked the bouncer in his rocky chest 
with a finger. 

"Look, fuckwad, I paid good money to drink that shitty beer out there, 
all's I want to do is talk to Tracy," he growled. "Can you just ask her? 
I just wanted to tell her how beautiful she is, and how much a better 
dancer she is than all the rest. That's all, a compliment, for 
Chrissakes, I just want to pay her a compliment, no funny stuff. You can 
stay right there if you want. I just gotta talk to her, that's all." 

Suddenly Tom's shirt was all bunched up in front, the material squished 
in the fingered hamhocks of the bouncer's monstrous hands. He felt 
himself being lifted off his feet and found himself face to face with 
the bruiser. 

"Last call, asshole," the big man said. "At least for you." 

Tom braced himself for the fleshy hammer to the face he knew would be 
coming when suddenly he  was free, falling back to the floor. When he 
looked up, he saw a pair of calves locked tight in front of the thug's 
belly as he stood still - and in pain. Tom jumped up and saw Tracy, the 
dancer, his dancer, attached stubbornly to the big bastard's back. She'd 
opened the door, jumped up and taken the thug in a bodyscissors, those 
iron thighs laced around the sides of the monster, her shoe-clad feet 
locked tight before him. She had her arms around his beefy neck in a 
tight sleeper hold and was hissing into his ear, squeezing him with arms 
and legs, crushing the asshole attitude out of him. 

"I've told you before, Bruno, when a customer comes looking for me, you 
come ask me," she growled, pumping her thighs hard on him until he 
snorted in pain. "If they're not totally drunk and out of it, you ask 
me. I'll be the judge, not you. Shit, you big dope, how many times do I 
have to bust your ribs in my thighs before you get the message? You want 
another dislocated neck vertebrae, too? Huh? Want me calves around your 
fat throat again, like last time? I don't think you do." 

Bruno tried shaking his head 'no', but Tracy's sleeper had him too 
tight. She smile and arched her back, putting the big squeeze on Bruno's 
yielding sides. The big man howled in pain and finally she brought him 
to his knees with a huge thud, falling like a busted bronco. The cowgirl 
laying the legs to the big bull stayed glued to him, working both holds 
now with an evil smile on her face. She looked at the stunned Tom 
standing before the bizarre scene and laughed. 

"Hi, I'm Tracy, glad to meet you," she said pleasantly as she continued 
the total wrapup in arms and legs of the bouncer in her tight grip. "I 
heard the nice things you said about me. That was sweet. So, I'm a 
better dancer than the others? That's awfully nice." 

Tom stammered and tried to speak, tried to tell Tracy how he'd be coming 
to this strip club for months just to see her, how he endured $3 watery 
beers just for the pleasure of watching her lithe, tightly muscled body 
own that stage, but it came out mostly "Blujfngaffasfn," or something 
like that. Still, Tracy understood. With a laugh. Tom smiled as his 
nervousness faded. 

"Go out and sit down, Tom, I'll be out to chat with you," Tracy said, 
grinding her iron thighs on the bouncer moaning between them. "Just let 
me, uh, have a last word with Bruno here." 

Tom obeyed and as he walked around the corner, he heard Bruno's guttural 
scream followed by a sickening snap that sounded painfully like a bone 
being broken. Tom gulped and hurried to his seat, the sound of that 
ruined rib resonating in his stiffening crotch. His mind swam with 
possibilities as he waited. He didn't wait long to find out if they'd 
come true. 

The vision of Tracy walked out cocky and proud and dressed to accentuate 
every sinful inch of her delicious body. She wore a tight, sleeveless T-
shirt bearing the name of the bar, cut high on washboard belly and 
accentuating the mounds of magnificent meaty muscle in her biceps and 
rippling forearms. She carried a tray with a pitcher of beer on it and 
two glasses, the load just enough weight to bulge those biceps to a 
taunting degree. Below, over the awesome swell of her perfect ass, she 
wore tight red satiny shorts, rising so high on her thick thighs that 
generous, mouth-watering chunks of silken ass meat hung free, each orb 
holding its muscular own against gravity. The thighs, sweet and firm and 
creamy smooth, tapered down to her knees and below that, jagged calves 
rose magnificently from short red socks and red sneakers. Tom tried to 
stand but Tracy laughed, balancing the tray on one hand which caused her 
left biceps to bubble wide and hard, and pushed him back down with the 
other hand. 

"Have a seat, big man," she said, plunking the beer before him and 
pouring out a couple of glasses. "My treat, you're a good customer. Of 
course, it doesn't matter to management if you spend a dollar or a 
hundred in here, you're all shit. But they listen to me and give me what 
I want because I guess I bring in a few people." 

"Oh, you do, you do," Tom stammered. "Not just me, I know other guys who 
come here just to see you and that...that...hard, nice, uh, 
body...jeez." 

Tracy laughed again and lifted the heavy mug to her shiny lips. Tom's 
eyes riveted themselves to the biceps of her right arm as it worked to 
lift the glass and then to her deep triceps as she stretched the arm to 
put the glass on the table before her. They chatted for a few moments, 
she doing most the talking and telling him about her life, her workouts, 
her addiction to intense physical activity, her dancing. Tom mostly 
nodded, awestruck that Tracy, this bar's premier attraction, was talking 
to him. Alone. And nearly in private, in the far, dark corner of the 
seedy club. 

"Whaddya like best, Tommy?" Tracy teased, leaning forward to talk into 
Tom's face. "My ass? My arms? My legs? The calves, the thighs? What?" 

Tom's eyes widened. He tried to decide, couldn't, and blabbered 
something that made Tracy laugh. She stood up before him, hands on slim 
hips, thighs flared and pulsating, arms ribboned with muscle. 

"Guess I have to test them all on you to find out," she said, spinning 
around and bending to grab her ankles, the shiny material of her shorts 
disappearing around that fantastic ass to reveal a sea of smooth muscle. 
"I'll start with this!!" 

She gyrated in front of him, that butt dancing and flexing inches from 
his drooling, awestruck face, a private show just for him. He went to 
reach for those quivering cheeks and she teasingly pulled away, bouncing 
them out of grasp. She told him to put his hands down. He did. 

"No hands, Tommy," she hissed, backing up on sturdy legs, dancing still, 
moving that ass to torment him. "Let me see what this butt can do for 
you!" 

With that, she backed up on spread legs, straddling his as he sat stock-
still and in total shock. The ass still bounced, quivered and swayed 
before his eyes as she lowered it now, the haunches dancing so close to 
his stiffening crotch he could feel the breeze. Then she was on him, the 
thick, hot pads of her fleshy rump grinding on his lap, stiffening him 
fully, the meat rubbing him exactly the right way. 

"Ah, let me lap dance you Thomas," she said sternly over one muscled 
shoulder. "See if I can get hold of you!" 

She sat fully on him now, pumping up one sweet cheek, then the other, a 
rhythm of thick meaty butt bouncing off one side of his cock as it stuck 
up in his pants and then the other. Tom kept his hands down, as 
instructed, fearful that if he lifted them to play alongside the 
sculpted hollows of the fantastic fanny dancing in his lap, she'd make 
it go away. He put his head back and closed his eyes, savoring the image 
he'd just seen of Tracy's undulating ass flesh dancing over the thick 
tentpole jutting up in his trousers. 

"Let me take you in, Tommy, see if you like that," she hissed back at 
him, sitting squarely on his lap, her hands on sturdy thighs for 
balance. 

Tom's eyes popped open wide as he felt the muscled clamp of Tracy's 
gripping butt take his cock, still in his pants, inside them. She was 
using the milking motion of her insanely beautiful ass to chew at his 
stiff prick and eat it up inside the hot vice of her cheeks. He looked 
down and in the dim light saw every sweet inch of Tracy's perfect butt 
quiver and quake and devour his cock through his pants. He shut his eyes 
again; the sight alone was going to put him over the edge, never mind 
the actual contact, and he didn't want to come in his pants and ruin it. 

Tracy sensed how close he was and stopped the violent chewing motion of 
her ass, settling on him quietly and feeling his hard cock poke inside 
her cheeks. She laughed and looked back at him, swishing her brown hair 
out of the way as she did, her blue eyes gleaming in the limited light. 

"Very good, Tom, you never touched me," she laughed. "Well, at least not 
with your hands. And you didn't come! Not bad. You're one of the few who 
manage to hold off from shooting in their pants when I get these 
muscular ass cheeks clamped on their cocks! Of course, if I squeezed you 
a little harder in there I could just rip your cock right off! I hate it 
when that happens!" 

Tom gave a weak smile back to the girl of his wet dreams as she pulled 
herself off him and stood up, the thighs and calves and ass freshly 
pumped up to a fantastic degree from the exercise they'd just enjoyed on 
Tom's lap. She turned to face him and launched into a mini-posing 
session, popping a double biceps stance, her hands fisted and curled 
away from the hammers of the sinewy forearms and the thick bubbles of 
her biceps. Her exposed belly was a river of muscled rope running 
beneath her thick hard tits jutting up under her T-shirt. She thrust one 
leg out as she posed, then the other, to show off the hard slabs of quad 
muscle, turning each leg to the side to ripple a huge calf above each 
red sock. 

"Hmm, what now, my arms, my legs, I just don't know," she teased Tom, 
who sat back, unashamedly with legs spread his hard cock poking up in 
his pants. "Well, my legs for now, I guess. Let me know when yours go 
numb." 

She stepped forward and stood over one of Tom's legs, reaching down and 
lifting it up to close off his fleshy thigh in her muscled ones. Tracy 
stood on crossed feet now, putting incredible pressure onto the thigh 
scissored between them. Tom's eyes closed in pain and he involuntarily 
shot his hands to the crushing columns of muscle that gripped his leg. 

"Should be getting numb right about now, Tommy," she growled, standing 
with her hands on her hips, pumping the scissors on his leg. "You can't 
be getting much blood down to your lower leg, not with this kinda 
pressure on it!" 

She was right and Tom's lower legs went cold and limp and exploded with 
pins and needles, then nothing. 

"Tracy...please...can't feel anything...ow, stop..." he begged, running 
his shaking hands up and down her tree-trunk thighs. 

Tracy smiled and let go - only to pull up his other leg and do the same 
thing, lacing her iron thighs over it and squeezing until it went numb, 
not even giving his other leg enough time to recover. Again Tom begged 
for mercy and she finally relented, unlocking her tireless legs to stand 
back and giggle at him as he tried to rub life back into his. 

"Not yet," she said suddenly, stepping forward to pull up both of his 
legs now to lock them in a standing scissors, her iron thighs gripping 
them both tight, the bones of each of his legs grinding against each 
other. 

He looked up at her as she stood laughing before him, backing up, just 
inches away from the reach of his hands. It would have been pathetic if 
it weren't so exciting. Tom was never so turned on in his life. He lunged 
out wildly with a hand and managed to grab her around the shin, his big 
fingers looping around the back and failing to make so much as a dent in 
the iron flesh of her calf. He gasped. Tracy laughed. 

"Feel that calf?" she growled, spinning around to face the other way, 
filling Tom's trembling hand with bulging lower leg meat. "Feel the 
muscle in your fingers? Mmmm, that's right, massage it, Tommy, massage 
my calves, both of them!!" 

Tom obeyed. Laying face down on the dank, stinky barroom floor, he 
filled his hands with the muscular calves of the most beautiful stripper 
he'd ever seen. An odd combination, but he'd take it. Tracy lifted up 
now, pumping up on her toes and down again, rotating the big balls of 
calf meat in Tom's fingers, laughing as he heard him moan from below 
her. 

"Legs got the feeling back, Tommy?" she teased. "You should be able to 
get up now. C'mon, up to your knees." 

Tom obeyed, getting up to his knees, his legs still not completely alive 
from Tracy's crushing scissors. As he did, his hands came off her calves 
and he leaned on them, his head inches from Tracy's magnificent legs. 
She laughed and backed up, instantly capturing Tom's neck in those 
bruising calves. 

"Yeah, that's it!!" she giggled, standing flat on her feet then raising 
up to ripple the mammoth pads of calf meat alongside his neck. 

"Jesus Christ, Tracy, that hurts!!" Tom squealed, his hands grabbing the 
thick tube of muscle rising from her short red socks and pulling on them 
vainly. "My...neck...." 

She laughed evilly. "Think that hurts? TRY THIS!!!!" 

Incredibly, she managed to lace her feet around each other and stand now 
on one foot, the other hooked around the opposite ankle, a true scissors 
lock, the titanic crush of her calves cascading white-hot sheets of pain 
through Tom's trapped neck. His eyes shut against the agony and his 
hands fell away uselessly as his entire lower body went numb at once; he 
feared she snapped his neck. She squeezed again and the flow of blood to 
his brain through the arteries in his neck was shut off by her calves. 
Tom passed out cold, just 3 seconds after Tracy locked the scissors on 
full. 

"Another one bites the dust," she laughed to herself, quickly unlocking 
her legs to let Tom slide down the chute of her creamy, deadly calves. 

When he came to a few seconds later, he could hardly breathe and he felt 
a tremendous pressure in his chest. He opened his eyes and groggily 
focused on another dancer on the stage, barely visible from the dark 
corner where he was. His arms were up and resting on something big, 
hard, lumpy. Slowly, his mind cleared and he remembered having passed 
out, his neck caught in something, a big crushing something. Then as the 
fog went away totally, he remembered Tracy and those legs, those legs 
.... those legs were on him again. 

He looked down to a massive thigh strapped across his chest and felt 
another braced across his shoulder blades. He was sitting before the 
chair at the table he'd just been at, Tracy in the seat, her tireless 
legs locked around his caving chest for an awesome bodyscissors, the 
thick ribs of inner thigh muscles digging into his pecs and backbone and 
just squeezing the breath from him, his lungs compressed inside. He 
looked weakly up at her; she smiled back, leaning up on her hands on the 
arms of the chair putting a gargantuan squeeze onto her victim. 

"Gotta say, Tommy, it was tough getting my legs around you, you're so 
goddam big," she hissed, relocking her socked ankles for a better grip. 
"Most the guys I put in bodyscissors are much smaller. I like 'em that 
way, I can almost wrap these legs around 'em twice!! You're a challenge, 
but I like a challenge!!" 

Not much of one, as it turned out. Tom's arms draped over the huge top 
leg crushing his chest, his hands in no position to pull at her legs or 
even caress the ever-expanding muscles under that tawny, silky skin. He 
could only gasp for air and use what little he had left to beg for 
mercy. 

"Please....Trace....anything.....stop...." he gasped. 

Tracy put her head back and roared with laughter - and redoubled her 
scissor squeeze. She hooked her ankles anew and really tore into him 
now, the thick steely cables of her upper inner thighs crushing what 
little air he had left all the way out. It left him in a whoosh and his 
chest caved a bit more. He couldn't inhale at all and stars soon swam 
before his eyes. A few seconds later, after a thundering thrust or two, 
and Tracy had squeezed the big man out like a light again, this time, 
improbably, by crushing his chest in her legs. 

Tom's head swam as he came to again, and he figured she'd had another 
part of his body scissored in her big legs. He was wrong. This time, his 
midsection hurt but when he awoke, he found himself looking directly 
into her steely eyes and felt her arms around his middle. Tracy had 
lifted him effortlessly into a bear hug from the front, her fists locked 
together in the small of Tom's back, her iron arms crushing his sides. 

"C'mon, Tommy, wake up, you're no fun passing out all the time," Tracy 
grunted, slamming the locked hands into his back, grinding his ribs in 
her crushing biceps. "I wanna have some fun with you, some, uh, real 
fun, if you know what I mean. Now stay awake!!" 

"I'll....try..." Tom grimaced against the pain, arching his back, 
closing his eyes. "I'll really...try..." 

It was a losing effort. The squeeze on his neck with her calves was bad 
enough, as were her giant thighs on his chest, but now Tracy's mammoth 
arms were conspiring to crush the consciousness from him again. He 
fought it, pushing off against the thick caps of Tracy's muscled 
shoulders to try pulling himself out of her vicious bearhug. Tracy shook 
her head, the thick mane of hair whipping around her face, and laughed. 

"Nobody gets out of my legs or my arms, Thomas," she said sternly. "My 
bearhugs are just as inescapable as my scissors!!" 

She proved it by twisting him effortlessly from side to side, snapping 
him around like a rag doll. He moaned in pain and humiliation as Tracy 
totally dominated him. Through watery eyes, he looked around the bar 
thankful no one was watching. 

"Time to go private, Tommy," Tracy said nonchalantly, finally releasing 
her bearhug and tossing him over her brawny shoulder like so much 
baggage, his head hanging down over her back, his eyes inches from her 
delicious ass and magnificent legs. "We're gonna do things, you and 
I...well, OK, mostly I!" 

She switched him around to the piggyback position, his tired arms 
holding her around the neck, her long, strong arms hoisted underneath 
his legs as they straddled her body. Hiking him snug to her muscled 
back, she walked through the bar, past the gazes of awestruck patrons 
who finally noticed what was going on, and into the back hallway toward 
the dressing room. Kicking the door open, Tracy laughed when she saw the 
beefy Bruno sitting on a dressing table getting his ribs taped by 
Jeannie, an aging but beautiful dancer at the club. Jeannie laughed. 

"Can't keep busting Bruno's ribs in those legs, girl," she smiled, 
ripping off a long strip of tape around the big man's midsection. "One 
of these days those scissors are gonna kill him." 

"We can only hope, right Bruno?" Tracy said, laughing as she sloughed 
Tom off her back and he slumped to a couch. "Now get lost, you big ape, 
or next time it'll be your neck that cracks in my thighs!" 

Bruno hurriedly jumped off the table and ran from the room, Jeannie 
behind him, laughing. She winked at Tom on her way out. 

"Hope she likes you, friend," she said. "I'm running out of tape." 

Tom sat up straight, trying to clear his head, as Tracy approached him. 
She smiled seductively as she stripped down, taking off her shirt, her 
shorts, and standing only in those sexy red socks and sneakers, every 
inch of her muscular body taut and ready. She stood, hands on hips, her 
neatly trimmed bush sparkling with sweet beads of sweat. 

"Time to play, Tommy," she hissed. "But first, we exercise some more!" 

In seconds, Tom found himself stretched across Tracy's big shoulders, 
being used as a human barbell. Positioning him firmly atop her, Tracy 
slowly bent down, doing long, drawn out squats with him. Tom looked down 
as best he could and saw the lean, jagged edges of Tracy's huge 
quadriceps jump out in sexy bold relief against her tawny skin. Easily, 
Tracy squatted and straightened out dozens of time, each one bringing 
her monstrous thigh muscles to rippling life more and more. Tracy's arms 
slipped between Tom's thighs now, brushing his cock. He moaned. Tracy 
laughed. 

"Eager beaver, aren't we?" she teased. "Relax, you'll get yours, 
although I doubt very much you've ever had anything like I'm gonna give 
you!!" 

Tom's throat went dry at the thought of whatever delicious torture Tracy 
had cooked up for him. His head spun now as she twisted him around to 
drape him back over her shoulders, his head down her back, his face 
right at the crack of her sweet, muscular ass. His hands hugged her hips 
as she held him and incredibly began a series of quick calf raises, the 
huge balls of meat bubbling up in jagged peaks of flesh above her red 
socks. 

"Mmmm, check out my calves, Tommy," Tracy ordered him, holding him by 
the legs now as she lowered him down her back even more on the strength 
of her muscular arms and ripped triceps. "Look at 'em! Touch 'em!" 

Tom obeyed, reaching out with trembling hands, upside down, as she 
lowered him just enough to get his shaking fingers around those thick 
pads of muscled meat as she continued to pump them up and down in a 
never-ending series of calf raises, all with the 230-pound man draped 
over her shoulder. Now she drew him upward, her huge arms pulling him 
back up, until his face was level with that twitching, hard-packed ass. 

"Kiss it," she growled back at him. "Put your face to my ass, in my ass, 
and kiss it!!" 

He obeyed again, his hands gingerly touching the rocky, sculpted flesh 
of her butt, kissing one smooth cheek, then the other, the tip of his 
tongue gently tracing a line over the magnificent swell of each one. 
With his grateful nose, he snuggled between them now, opening them up, 
moving his face inside to plant the gentlest of kisses on her rosebud 
inside, eagerly yet tenderly extending his tongue deeper still to tickle 
her moist spot. Tracy moaned loudly as Tom pushed and licked the right 
button. 

Suddenly, however, he found himself rudely deposited on his back on the 
floor, Tracy standing over him on spread legs, his gaze looking up the 
rugged backs of them to that succulent ass. 

"You found my preference, Thomas," she said down at him as she slowly 
descended to his face. "Now feast on it!!" 

Seconds later, Tom's face was absolutely buried in the most perfect ass 
he'd ever had the pleasure to be smothered within. Tracy reached back 
and spread her muscled asshalves to capture Tom's sucking and moaning 
face deep within, the creamy inside walls of her cheeks caressing his 
face even as they crushed it. Tom's long tongue skewered Tracy's 
clinging backdoor hole as he plunged it as deep as he could in an effort 
to totally satisfy her. Tracy started an almost mindless hipsnapping 
motion now, grinding down with her ass, swallowing his moaning face, and 
then jamming it forward, wiping her entire asscrack over his mouth, his 
nose, his lips, before letting her tight asshole swallow up his tongue 
again. She picked up the pace and soon her entire ass was a meaty blur 
as she whipped it back and forth over his face, the thick muscled meat 
of her tireless rump chewing at  his face, eating it, swallowing it 
deeper inside until Tom feared his nose and tongue would be torn from 
his face and devoured by her demanding asshole. 

By the time she stopped, she'd orgasmed several times, the thick cream 
of her love juice running down her pussy and dripping into her asshole, 
where Tom swallowed every drop. He was nearly unconscious from the ride 
and loving every hazy minute of it. 

He came back around fully when Tracy slid down to his cock, spun around 
and sat on it, impaling herself on its thick length. Tom's eyes closed 
in sweet ecstasy as Tracy replicated the ride she'd just given his face, 
this time on his cock. She leaned forward as she did to kiss him deep 
and wet, tasting of herself and licking his face clean of her come. 

"Make me come again, big man," she hissed into his ear. "Fuckkkk 
meeeee!!" 

Tom gave it all he had, bucking his hips up into Tracy, the slap of 
flesh on flesh filling the cheesy dressing room and bouncing off the 
yellow-painted cinder-block walls. Tracy got up on her haunches now, 
leaning her arms to either side to plant her hands on the floor, her 
thick arms holding her up. In the squat, the massive muscles of her 
calves and thighs were lined deep under her creamy skin. Tom's hands 
roamed the expanse of those rugged legs, feeling the pressure building 
within his balls that slapped up into Tracy's exquisite ass. 

"Not yet, Tom, not yet," Tracy growled, fucking him slowly now until he 
was nearly delirious with anticipation. "I'm saving the best - and most 
painful - for last!!" 

He had no idea what she meant, he didn't care, he just kept pumping his 
cock up into the tightest, sweetest, tastiest pussy he'd ever felt. But 
then it was gone, and he realized she'd pulled off and spun around 
behind him. Sitting him up, she snuggled up close behind him and 
captured him in a grinding, no-nonsense bodyscissors, her giant thighs 
gripping his lower ribs in their scissored grip, her locked calves in 
his lap. She meant to hurt him now, he knew it. 

"Pleasure and pain, it's a fine line, Thomas, a fine line," she growled, 
opening her legs to lock them up again, this time with his stiff cock 
scissored between her calves. "Pleasure and pain. Now you'll know both 
at the same time!!" 

Tom screamed in agony as the knives of Tracy's muscular inner thighs 
sliced deep into his ribs, at the same time her pumped-up calves slipped 
sexily over his throbbing cock. He didn't know what to concentrate on 
first, if anything, the pounding pain in his ribs or the creamy softness 
of her sexy calves on his cock. Pleasure and pain. He was getting both. 

Tracy relocked her ankles now, recapturing his hard cock in her calves, 
the thick pads of those lower legs crushing his prick to just the right 
degree as she moved them up and down, in effect jerking him off in her 
scissors. Then the pain set in again as the crush of her relentless 
thighs tore into his guts, bending his lower ribs to the breaking point. 
Just like she had with Bruno. 

"Pleasure..." she hissed in his ear, rubbing her scissored calves up and 
down on his cock more rapidly now. 

"Pain..." she hissed in his other ear, throbbing her muscular thighs 
onto the frail bones of his lower ribs. 

"All...at....ONCE!!!" she roared. 

She let him have both. Her calves finally coaxed their reward from him 
as a huge arc of white-hot spunk blasted from the tip of his cock, which 
was barely visible in the scissored meat of her muscular lower legs, a 
monstrous ribbon of protein corkscrewing through the air and splashing 
against the far wall. At the same time, Tracy's thighs crushed inward 
and easily snapped one, two, three of Tom's ribs in their embrace. Tom 
tried not to breathe now, to offset the pain, but then he looked down 
and saw a half dozen equally impressive bolts of spunk jettison from his 
punished prick, splattering down on his own legs and finally hers, 
coating those huge calves in his natural lubricant, which she used to 
jack off his cock even more until the last few drops oozed out. She 
squeezed her legs harder for the last time, grinding his busted sides in 
her thighs, capturing his shrinking cock in the comey clasp of her 
calves. 

When she finally let him go, the pain came to Tom in a curtain of black 
washing over his open eyes. His ribs burned with agony, and his balls 
ached from the monstrous load they'd given up. He looked down as he held 
his sides and watched the spunk drip off the wall five feet away. Tracy 
stood before him with a towel, huge clumps of his come hanging from her 
meaty calves and shins. 

"Clean me off, or I'll make you lick it off," she said sternly. He 
obeyed, though he would have easily done as she demanded had he not. 

She knelt before him and gently kissed his lips as she touched his 
sides. He winced. 

"Now, am I still your favorite dancer?" she teased, affecting a look of 
mock hurt on her face. 

"More than ever," he said, grimacing as he did, the pain searing through 
his sides. "More than you'll ever know." 

Tracy laughed and stood to get dressed for her next stage session. 

"Oh, I know," she said, slipping on a tiny thong. "I always know."