Shits and Giggles
by Seldom (seldomlasts@yahoo.com)
Leggy college girl seduces and breaks her weak professor.


***** AUTHOR'S NOTE *****

I know I haven't written in a while, for which I apologize. I don't have
much to say about this story, except that it's violent, I enjoyed writing it, and I
hope you enjoy reading it. Drop me an e-mail and let me know what you
think.

* * * * *

Edward Harris, Professor of English at Cornell University, woke with a
start to the sound of firm knocking on his office door. He hurriedly
adjusted his glasses, saw that the half-empty whiskey bottle and
half-full tumbler were still on his desk, and made to put them away
before realizing that the figure in the doorway had already seen them.
With a sigh he looked up to see who his visitor was.

"Ah, Miss Anderson, how can I help you?" he asked the tall freshman.

Lauren tossed her long golden blonde hair over her shoulder and tilted
her head, absorbing the scene on the desk in front of her. She smiled,
revealing even white teeth. "Working late, Professor?" she asked, her
accent revealing just a hint of Southern gentility.

"Yes, you could say that," he replied, also smiling. He ran his hand
through the thin wisps of hair atop his balding head. He glanced at his
watch. 11:30. "Please, Miss Anderson, come in, come in." He gestured to
the seats arranged on the other side of his desk.

Lauren walked into the room and turned to shut the door behind her.
Professor Harris cleared his throat. "Please, leave it open," he said in
answer to her questioning gaze. Lauren raised an eyebrow archly and sat
down, crossing her long elegantly muscular legs, hardened by the steep
hills of Ithaca, and placing her purse on the desk. It was a large old
oak desk, expensive, the kind rarely seen outside the offices of tenured
professors.

The middle-aged professor took out a second tumbler. "Can I offer you a
drink, Miss Anderson?" he asked.

"Professor!" Lauren gasped. "I'm under twenty-one!"

"Of course, of course, how silly of me, I apologize," he said instantly,
embarrassed. He reached to the second tumbler to clear it away.

"I'll have a glass of whatever you're having," Lauren said, smiling
again.

Professor Harris glanced at her. She winked at him. He laughed easily
and poured some of his whiskey into the tumbler, then handed it to her.
"Bushmills," he said with a shrug.

Lauren took the glass in her white-gloved hand and held it up, gazing at
the dark liquid inside. "To what are we toasting?" she asked.

Professor Harris smiled at the grammatical correctness of her question.
"To my birthday," he said. Then, in an alcohol-inspired rush of
bitterness, "And to my divorce." He drained his glass and thumped it
down on the stack of legal papers on his desk.

"Happy birthday," Lauren said and took a delicate sip of her whiskey.

"So, Miss Anderson, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" the
professor asked, serious once more.

Lauren took another sip of whiskey as her professor packed the bottle
and his tumbler away. "I was just doing some work in the library. On the
way back to my dorm I noticed your light was on, so I decided to drop by
and see if we could talk."

"Talk?" he asked.

Lauren's lips twitched in a half-smile. "From the looks of things, you
could use some company." She bounced her crossed leg, the hard ball of
her calf twitching as she casually pumped her foot.

Professor Harris half expected her to make some sort of unsubtle comment
along the lines of giving him a birthday present. He could hardly
believe what was happening. Students had tried to seduce him before, but
always for grades. He had never seriously entertained the thought of
accepting these solicitations, yet now his throat was dry, and to his
surprise he found his dick twitching in response to this tall, pretty,
athletic girl less than half his age. Lauren was a straight-A student,
her papers intelligently argued and wonderfully descriptive, of far
higher quality than he usually received from cocky freshman. She was
clearly athletic, verging on too muscular, her hardened stately body
offset by a pretty face and a sparkling Southern charm. She had
everything, she hardly needed to seduce a bitter old professor in the
middle of a divorce.

Lauren watched in silent amusement as he recovered from his surprise and
tried not to stare at her legs. He was doing everything but drooling as
he tried to figure out what she was up to.

Without looking she reached back and shut the door. Her eyes danced
mischievously as she stood. To Professor Harris she seemed to rise and
rise, towering over his sitting frame from a great height. She stalked
around his desk, cat-like, arrogant. "Now, Professor," she purred,
silencing him as he was about to protest, "don't do anything silly like
ask me to stop. I might, and you'd be alone again, on your birthday."
She rubbed one long leg against his knee, then hooked her calf around
his and slunk into his lap. "That would be," she murmured into his ear,
her arms embracing him, "terrible." She let her firm ass rest heavily on
his erection, enveloping it in hard gluteal muscles, which she tensed
and relaxed rhythmically.

"Why?" he asked breathlessly, then mentally kicked himself. Stupid
question. He knew the answer before she said it.

"You like legs, Professor," Lauren said huskily, pulling one of his
hands under her short skirt to rub her thick, hard, corded quads, which
flexed mightily under his hand, bunching and striating to form stony
slabs under his grasping fingers. "I want you to like mine."

"Power," he said, the answer to his own query.

"Of course," Lauren said, her eyes twinkling. "Why else?" She cupped his
unresisting face in her silk-gloved hands and brought their lips
together in a soft kiss.

"Tell me how much you like my legs, Professor. Describe them for me,"
Lauren whispered as his hands roamed over her thickening thighs.

The professor cleared his throat. "Lauren's long luscious legs make my
loquacious lips lather in longing," he said slowly.

Lauren laughed lightly. "It's Miss Anderson to you, and alliteration
won't get you out of this one, Professor." Her sparkling blue eyes
burrowed into his, flicking briefly from side to side as she noted the
laugh lines crinkling around his eyes, not yet soured by his failed
marriage. She licked her lips. "Come on, Professor," she urged
throatily. "Tell me how much you love my legs, how much you want them."

"Oh I do, God I do," he panted, throwing caution and care to the wind.
Perhaps a year ago he would have thrown her out, but now, and on this
day...why not? The possibility of losing his shitty underpaid academic
job seemed a small price to pay for this opportunity at heaven, a
throwback to a youth he thought long gone. He'd certainly never had a
chance at anyone like Lauren, so pretty and athletic and strong.

He was aware of himself pawing pathetically at her powerful legs, but he
didn't care. He submerged his will completely to this pretty young
student. "Your thighs, your quads, like stone under my fingers," he
moaned. He massaged the various muscles, feeling jagged veins rising to
prominence. "Your legs are far beyond sporty, so thick, so muscular. You
must work out, lift weights."

"I do," she said, kissing his cheeks and nose while he talked. She
squeezed her legs warningly and flexed her glutes painfully hard around
his erection. "You can do better, Professor," she urged, pushing her
lips against his ear and nibbling on the lobe. She flicked her tongue
into his ear and licked as he moaned in pleasure. "Say pretty things
about me."

"I can't," he cried out in frustration, his mind a haze of lust. His
hands shifted to her hard grapefruit-halves of steely calf muscle. "How
do you describe perfection?"

"Oh, better," she purred. "Perfection, I like that." She brought her
hands down to his crotch and tickled his erection through his pants.

The professor tried to think quickly in the arms and legs of his
demanding, beautiful student. "This pretty lass and her lovely legs
inspire me to great heights of lust, ecstasy, and eroticism," he moaned.
"A forbidden fruit I never thought I'd taste," he nibbled and licked
along her flexed, steely bicep atop a tanned expanse of young smooth
satiny skin, tracing a long blue vein down its jagged length, "and may
never again."

"See, you're getting it," Lauren panted huskily, forcing his worshipping
head and probing tongue up along her bicep to finally jam him against
her firm round breast. She continued playing with his tented pants as he
nuzzled her breasts. Her hard nipples caressed his cheek through the bra
and blouse containing them. She slipped her shoulder strap off and let
her halter down, exposing the tanned top of her breast, which he
obligingly kissed. She rewarded him by unbuckling his belt and slowly
pulling it off. He tried to pull his hand up to move her bra, but she
firmly forced it back to her thigh. She brought her own hand up and
caressed his cheek before popping her breast out. He attached his lips
to the pink nipple and licked. She moaned softly.

Lauren's probing hand quickly unbuttoned his pants, freeing his dick. It
poked through the front of his boxers to bob freely in the air. It was
quickly surrounded by soft skin. Lauren gripped the dick firmly and ran
her thumb over the tip, slowly jerking him off. A tinny, digitized
version of "The Entertainer" started playing.

"My phone," Lauren said apologetically, bringing her professor's head up
to hers and leaning down to kiss him softly on the lips. She reached to
her purse and retrieved the small black device.

"Hi Rob," she said. Professor Harris leaned back and closed his eyes as
Lauren continued fondling him with almost disinterested inattention.
"Oh, just playing with my writing seminar professor."

Her skilled hand needed almost no attention to toy with him, making him
gasp and moan with pleasure. "Hang on," she said, then looked her
professor in the eye. "Don't cum." Then back to the phone, dismissing
his existence as irrelevant. "Yeah, that one. He's kind of cute. I think
this will be fun. Uh huh. Okay, yeah, I'll be back soon. Uh huh.
Totally." She giggled. Her hand continued to torture his painfully erect
dick. "I know, right? I will. Okay hon, wait up for me. Okay, bye bye."
She casually tossed her phone back into her purse and smiled coyly at
her professor, narrowing her eyes and licking her lips.

It was hard to think with her playing with his dick like that, and he
realized he just didn't care about her boyfriend, or what she was doing
here, he just wanted her.

"Feel me," she commanded, moving one of his hands over to her steely
inner thigh. He reached up to her panties and was surprised to find the
cotton damp and slick. "Ooooh," she moaned, settling her full weight
onto his legs and leaning back onto the desk, closing her eyes. She was
much heavier than she looked, and all that weight transmitted through
her quite hard, flexed ass started to hurt his knees.

"Shut up," she said softly before he could complain, not opening her
eyes. "Just rub." He obeyed, daring to slip a couple of fingers under
her panties and feeling the soft, wet folds of her pussy underneath. She
sighed contentedly and shifted forward until her thickly muscular thigh
rubbed softly against his dick, which jerked in reaction to the
stimulus.

Professor Harris squeezed the giant muscles flexing in her unbelievably
hard legs. "They're so thick and hard," he whispered. "You must be
incredibly strong."

Lauren smiled down at him and opened one heavy-lidded eye. "You want to
feel them wrapped around you, don't you?" she asked.

His throbbing dick jerked again. "Y-yes," he said shyly, embarrassed.
"Your thighs feel like marble."

"You want them around your chest, or your head," she hissed. He nodded
again, unable to meet her hard, predatory gaze. "My thighs are much
stronger than they look," she said. He gulped and blushed furiously, but
his straining cock gave him away. "They're lethal, you know." His mouth
was dry and he couldn't respond. "Say it!" she commanded. "Use that
alliteration. Say they're lethal legs."

"The-they're, they're lethal legs," he managed. "Lauren's lethal legs."

"Miss Anderson!" she hissed, her eyes dangerous slits. He was suddenly
aware of hard jagged calves tearing painfully into his sides, her legs
so strong she didn't need to cross her ankles to inflict damage to his
soft middle.

"Miss Anderson's lethal legs," he barely managed in a pained whisper. He
felt like he was drifting through a dream, unable to respond to or
change the unfolding events, a spectator to his own shameful domination.

Lauren sat up on his lap and stroked his cheek like a child. "You poor
man, you want to feel them around you, crushing you," she said, her eyes
suddenly soft and sympathetic.

"Yes," he whispered, reduced to little more than a helpless boy in her
arms.

"Of course you do," she said. Her hand grasped his dick and squeezed.
She brushed her soft pretty lips over his. Lauren slowly slipped off her
professor's lap and stood again, this time bringing the old man with
her.

He finally realized just how tall she was. Her strong arms held him in
the air seemingly without effort, his toes off the floor. The top of his
head barely reached her nose. Most of her height was derived from those
incredibly long, thick legs. The length must give her terrific leverage,
in addition to her raw muscular bulk. He was overcome by lust as he
pondered their ungodly power.

Her biceps dug painfully into his sides, reminding him of the strength
in her long arms as she slowly and easily lifted his lips to hers for
another long kiss. Her tongue forced its way into his unresisting mouth
and licked his tongue. Then she sucked both their tongues back into her
mouth and raked her perfect teeth over his, nibbling painfully on his
tongue. He felt the lushness of her beautiful lips, the wetness of her
young mouth around his tongue, and the steely hardness of her muscular
athletic body, and surrendered himself to her. She felt his body relax
and melt into hers and dominated him effortlessly with her forceful
personality, searingly hot body, and overwhelming strength. His body
looked and felt weak and pitiful in her arms, easily crushed by her hard
muscles.

Lauren pulled her mouth away from his and looked down into his eyes,
smiling. She kept his sides painfully crushed in her biceps as she
maneuvered her hands down to his skinny ass. She worked his pants and
boxers over his hips. "Take them off," she panted huskily. He dutifully
kicked his shoes off and let his clothes fall to the floor. Her long
fingers dug painfully into his soft butt flesh and he bit his tongue to
keep from crying out.

"Ooh you're so soft," Lauren cooed, pulling him into her stony body.
Veins rose on her prominent muscles as she flexed her muscles around
him, letting the peaks jab painfully into various portions of his body.
The professor felt like a weak toy in her hands as she drew his crotch
into hers, letting his bobbing dick thrust under her short skirt and rub
against her silk panties.

She let go of him with one hand, holding him in the air supported by one
arm. Her biceps had grown from shapely feminine curves to hard peaks
jumping and flexing with each small motion. She reached her hand under
her skirt and stroked one long finger over his dick, then pulled her
panties down. The soaked panties landed on the floor with a wet splat.

Her mound was hot and wet, dripping moist lubricant on his dick. The
professor looked up into her beautiful smiling face and wrapped his arms
around her brawny shoulders, his hands gripping her powerful flexed
lats. "I belong to you, beautiful Miss Anderson," he said without shame
or self-consciousness.

"Of course you do," Lauren said. She clamped both hands on his ass and
pulled him into her. Her pussy was hot and painfully tight around his
dick as she thrust him into her wet folds. He let out a loud moan of
pure pleasure, his eyes closed. She watched him haughtily, a
contemptuous sneer on her pretty face.

"You're mine," she said as she thrust him in and out, controlling his
pace, thrusting her hips into his as she pulled in with her powerful
arms.

"Yes," the professor panted. Lauren stretched her long elegant neck,
letting him moaningly kiss and lick the soft skin.

The tall blonde continually thrust him in and out, easily manipulating
his body, teasing herself with his dick, letting her pussy envelop and
squeeze him, working herself hotter and wetter. This was why she liked
playing with old men, she could control them, she could fuck them for
half an hour, an hour, without them cumming. In and out, in and out,
constant, teasing, his moans stimulating her, his worshipful hands
roaming her broad muscular back, muscles rising out of muscles, her
swollen steely biceps crushing his sides, a slight sheen of sweat the
only signs that she was exerting herself at all, while he was panting
with arousal and exhaustion. Her large soft breasts bounced against his
chest and neck as he thrust his head forward to lick her neck and the
undersides of her ears. After fifteen minutes of her constant in-out
thrusting she showed no signs of ever tiring. Every muscle strained
against her soft tanned skin, her breathing came faster, the joy of
controlling and dominating her weak professor bringing her nearer to
climax. She sensed him beginning to lose control, his kisses and licks
more urgent, less focused.

"Your scrawny little body is mine to do whatever I want with. To play
with," she said demandingly. She kept her rhythm constant, unvarying,
ignoring his attempts to hump her faster.

"Yesss."

"To crush. To hurt. To control," she hissed.

"Whatever you want," he moaned.

"Your life is mine." She thrust faster, breathing heavily, lost in
pleasure.

"Yours," he grunted.

She slammed their bodies together roughly, breaking the rhythm, shoving
and pulling him faster and faster, digging her long powerful gloved
fingers into his ass until her fingertips crushed the skin, bruising the
soft flesh until blood oozed out onto her gloves. "Mine to end," she
growled. "Say it!" she demanded. "Say your life is mine to end if I want
to."

"My...life...is yours...to...to kill," he groaned mindlessly, his orgasm
exploding into her. Lauren stood still as an orgasm flooded through her
body, vast muscles flexing, crushing the poor professor's weak body.

"Owwww," he moaned, spent. The professor collapsed in Lauren's strong
arms.

When he opened his eyes, she was sneering down at him. She cleared his
desk with one arm, sending papers, writing implements, pictures, and a
vase crashing to the floor. The powerful athlete lifted his skinny body
with one hand and slammed him forcefully down onto his desk before
crawling up on top of him. His bloody butt-cheeks made a wet splattering
sound as he landed. He cried out in pain.

Lauren gripped the professor's jaw in one powerful bloody hand. "I could
crush your pathetic little body to death," she hissed, her eyes
dangerous, malevolent. Her long pythonic legs wrapped around his bruised
hips, squeezing painfully. "Does your wife have legs like these?" she
asked, pulsing their gigantic power into him.

"N-no," he mumbled, exhausted, frightened, terrified actually, coming to
his senses after that incredible sex, remembering some of the
frightening things she said, looking into her wild eyes and knowing she
meant them. Also knowing that he meant them, too, that he was hers to
command, his life literally in her powerful hand, his breathing at this
muscular sadist's mercy. "I've never seen or felt legs as magnificent as
yours," he whispered.

Her face melted into a beautiful smile. "Good answer," she said, leaning
down to kiss him warmly, her tongue again entering his mouth. Her lips
sucked at his, moist, soft, perfect. Her blue eyes cleared and sparkled
playfully, leaving no trace of the sadistic evil there just moments ago.
She pulled her fantastic body farther up his, resting one large round
breast on his face, the hard nipple poking into his mouth. He obediently
suckled at her breast as she cradled his head and moaned, gently humping
his soft crotch. After a few moments of this sexy treatment his dick
began stirring again.

Lauren pulled her spectacular chest away from his sucking lips. She
stroked his hair and giggled at his total submission. "My little
professor," she said quietly. She held his cheek in her palm. "You've
eaten pussy before, haven't you?" she asked. He blushed and nodded.
"Good. I should hope so. So that's not the reason your wife's leaving
you."

He shook his head. "Other reasons," he whispered.

"Eat mine," Lauren said. She pulled her skirt up over her hips and spun
around, plopping her heavy muscular ass on his face. His nose mashed
into her anus, tickling her. "Oops," she giggled, "missed." She scooched
back a bit until his mouth was at her wet pussy and wrapped her enormous
boulder-like thighs around his tiny trapped head. She pulsed the
powerful muscles, crushing his ears flat against her inner thighs,
grinding his skull until his tongue flicked out and licked her clitoris.

"Yes," she moaned. Lauren smelled her own pungent juices on his dick and
an erotic shudder passed through her athletic body, brutally grinding
his head. She used her thighs to guide his lips and tongue, crushing
painfully when he slacked off or did something wrong, licking his hard
dick when he pleasured her. She never loosened her grip, only tightened
it, her thick unstoppable legs never tiring. Her jagged quads dug into
his neck, cutting off his air; her hard hamstrings ground against his
jaw. He ignored the pain and worked to please his sadistic mistress. Her
nuclear-hot mouth enveloped his throbbing dick, soft lips and tongue
expertly working the rod, giving him a fantastic blowjob even as her
huge legs crushed his skull. He focused on her clit, her labia, her
pleasure, ignoring his own. Each time she nipped the tip of his dick and
he shuddered, her thighs constricted a little more, gagging him,
crushing his jaw and throat.

His world was a painful throbbing, hearing only blood pounding. His mind
regressed to a puppy-like desire to please as the oxygen starvation
slowed his brain, he just hoped he didn't pass out before he could
satisfy her, thoughts coming slowly, painfully, inner thighs
constricting, crushing his neck.

Finally his own pleasure overwhelmed what was left of his brain and he
orgasmed, spurting hot cum down pretty Lauren's waiting throat, his
tongue unable to continue through the haze of pain, pleasure, and
welcoming unconsciousness. Lauren's suffocating leggy embrace punched
down harder, thrusting her hips brutally hard onto his face, working up
her own orgasm, her vast rippling muscular legs easily snapped his neck,
crushed his jaw, crunched him in their all-powerful squeezing crushing
embrace, moving closer together, cracking his skull, unstoppable,
unsatisfiable, two lovers embracing each other, uncaring of the tiny
head inside. Lauren subconsciously crossed her ankles in her orgasm, her
unbelievably long legs finally gaining the leverage they needed to
unleash their full frightening power, grinding through his skinny neck,
crushing it, deforming it. Bone cracked, her mighty muscles flared,
muscles burning, contributing to and lost in her tremendous multiple
orgasm, each one more powerful than the last, each one crushing her
invincible legs just a little more, extinguishing the tiny life in their
control.

Lauren slowly opened her eyes, panting, nearly crying from the intensity
of her orgasms. She ran her hand over her legs, tracing the vein
structure, gasping for breath as she slowly relaxed, unhinging the
gigantic pillars, letting them deflate to a more human size, reverting
to their normal long elegant muscularity. Her thighs made wet slurping
noises as they pulled apart, bits of his blood-soaked jaw sticking to
them. She smiled down at the disgusting gory mess that remained of his
head. "Thank you professor," she said, smiling. She hopped down from the
desk and used his pants to wipe up her thighs and crotch.

Lauren picked up her sopping panties and checked them for identifying
marks. Finding none, she balled the wet silk up and shoved it in what
remained of his deformed mouth. "Keep it," she giggled.

She opened the door and looked at the blood on her gloves. Sighing
contentedly she turned them inside out and put them in her purse.
"Goodbye professor," she said, blowing the broken body a kiss, and
stepped out into the hall. The pretty statuesque blonde hummed to
herself as she walked to the stairs at the north end of Goldwin Smith,
until she was brought up short by a janitor turning the corner with his
broom. He smiled at her and gave a quick nod.

Lauren quickly regained her composure and smiled back, putting an extra
sway in her hips as she walked up to the aging cleaner. He stopped
sweeping, looking up at her curiously. Still smiling she walked right up
to him and nailed her knee into his balls, catching his throat before he
could yell as he doubled over in agony.

"Sorry, sweetie," Lauren murmured into his ear. She grabbed the back of
his head with her other hand and flung him over the railing, letting him
dangle over the stairs for a moment. He clutched at her bulging forearms
and flailed wildly. Lauren savored the wild terror in his eyes, licking
her luscious lips and giggling as she easily held him in the air. After
a moment she snapped his neck with a vicious jerk of her hands and let
him drop to the stairs below.

The athletic girl skipped down the stairs. The janitor lay gasping at
the bottom, staring up at her in terror, unable to move. A pool of blood
spread from the bottom of his head where it cracked against the marble
stairs and his arm was bent up behind his back.

Lauren smiled down at the terrified man and laughed. She brought her
foot up and thrust the heel of her shoe into his throat. She kneeled
next to him and watched as the life drained out of his eyes. "I love
quickies," she sighed happily to herself.

Exiting into the night air, the pretty blonde fluffed up her air and
looked around to make sure no one was about. On the other side of the
arts quad a couple headed down the hill to west campus, and to her right
a cat mewed. With a dazzling smile she smoothed down her skirt and
headed back to north campus to meet up with her boyfriend.

* * * * *

End of Shits and Giggles