Lorna By Thomas Walker Her constrictor bodyscissors made him scream in ecstasy. Lying on her back, she coiled her long legs around me, pulling me close in their sinewy embrace. Her skin was silken, the flesh surrounding me alive, rippling, and overwhelmingly sensual. She commanded me to roll to one side so she could hug me in what she called her "wrestling hold." She interlaced her ankles and locked my stomach between her thighs in a body scissors --- the wrestling hold she had been talking about. Tightening her legs, she reached down and clasped my engorged shaft with her fingers. Teasing at first with slow constrictions of her thighs, she gradually increased the pressure, pounding me with jackhammer thrusts of her pelvis, then tightened and squeezed me, very hard, at the same time pistoning her hand until she milked me to a helpless, shuddering orgasm. She kept me wrapped in her scissors hold, loosely, not applying pressure, as I struggled to regain some semblance of composure. "My god!" I gasped, "Where did you learn to do that? I've never felt anything like it." "What made it so special?" she asked. "The legs --- the squeezing --- most of all the squeezing. My favorite fantasy is being constricted in a bodyscissors by a woman who has long, hard legs and really knows how to squeeze with them. In my fantasy, she's lying on her side, facing me. I'm on my back between her legs, one under me, one across my stomach, tight against her loins. She locks her ankles, straightens her legs and digs her thighs into my gut until I feel as if my navel is flattening against my spine. I try not to offer any resistance, even sucking in my stomach so she can get maximum leverage. My internal organs writhe and convulse, unprotected. Her excitement kicks in and she reaches down grabbing my erection and squeezing it. She gets into a rhythm with her constrictions, pumping my guts with her legs and milking me with her hand until I erupt like a volcano and pass out." "Wow! That sounds great. You sure picked the right woman this time. I have the legs, and I love to squeeze guys so tight they tremble with fear when I pull them into my crotch and begin to wrap my legs around them. Too often, afterwards, when I start to squeeze, they panic and go flaccid. How are you doing? You're staying nice and hard. Can you take some more pressure?" "Absolutely. I love it. Will you squeeze me harder?" "Are you sure? If I really squeeze my thighs hard into you, you'll feel like I'm trying to kill you. This is what I imagine I'd do to a male intruder --- scissor his belly until I cut him in half. My thighs are strong enough to do just that. Feel." With that, she suddenly flexed her adductors, not straightening her legs, just making me feel the interior thigh muscles harden until they felt like stones digging into my body. "Ouch! You really could bruise a guy with those--- but I love the feel of it. How did you develop those leg muscles? They're unreal. I've never felt anything like it." "I played soccer and ran cross-country when I was a kid. That gave me stamina and these calf muscles. Then I bicycled for years. The bicycling made my thigh muscles so hard I can crush a melon to mush in my crotch in seconds. "I had two brothers growing up and used to wrestle with them a lot. They stopped roughhousing with me when my legs got so strong I could squeeze them into submission in a matter of seconds with my bodyscissors." "What else have you done?" "I damaged a guy badly when I locked my legs around his upper stomach and started squeezing hard as he tried to twist loose. He had to give up or tear his chest muscles. I cracked one of his ribs while my legs squeezed and held him immobile. In some cases, a guy totally loses it when he realizes my legs are squeezing him so tight he can't breathe. I've made guys pass out that way after sex sometimes, just to let them know I can. A guy has a tough choice --- give in and go under, or fight me and risk real damage. When they do the dumb thing, they usually wind up with doctor bills." "Can you squeeze me without the medicals?" "Sure. I'll squeeze your belly at navel level. That's the smallest part of your waist. I'll have maximum leverage when I squeeze, and won't be tearing any chest muscles or cracking a rib by accident. It'll just be my legs against your abs --- not really much of a contest, though --- your abs won't have a prayer. Your stomach's just the right size, so I'll have a really good wrap with my legs. I'm going to pull you in tight against my crotch, lock my legs, then straighten them real fast, so my thighs blast into your belly. You'll squeal out loud, then you'll whimper like a baby and gasp for air while my legs constrict tighter and tighter around you. I love it ---I think you will too--- but are you sure you want to do this?" "Absolutely. Go for it." "OK. Roll over on your back and let me keep one leg under you. There. Now, I reach my other leg across your stomach and lock my ankles, like this. Just like your fantasy, isn't it? Are you comfortable?" "Yeah." I said, a little apprehensive when I realized how hard her thighs were around me, even without her trying to squeeze. "Good. Now I want you to harden your abs and swell your belly against my legs. Great. You've got nice muscle tone --- feels real good between my thighs. Now I'm going to constrict you, slowly. Try to hold the tension in your stomach while I squeeze. Here we go." With her ankles locked, she gradually straightened her legs against me, notching up the squeezing pressure but not overwhelming me. My abs seemed to be holding up when I responded by swelling my stomach. When I relaxed, however, I could feel her tightening the noose, her thighs digging into me, gaining position, not backing off, constricting my belly and lower back. "Aah. That feels so good. My knees are almost touching each other now while my thighs are squeezing your waist down tighter ---smaller than you ever imagined, I bet. Are you feeling it in your breathing or your legs yet?" "Should I?" "Yes. If you aren't already out of breath, you soon will be. The pressure on your stomach impedes the action of your diaphragm--- not fast like it would if I had you around the ribs, but slowly until you find yourself suddenly very short of breath. You'll feel it when it happens. Try to take a deep breath." I opened my mouth and tried to take a gulp of air. I swelled my chest but could only take a short gasp. My stomach was so constricted I couldn't swell it in the slightest and could breathe only in shallow pulls. She tightened another notch, and her grip began to hurt. I felt a dull throbbing pain in my abdomen and lower back, felt her inner thigh muscles bearing down, my stomach muscles throbbing with a pulse that strained but failed to carry blood to my lower body. "I can barely breathe," I gasped. "My stomach's killing me, and I feel like you're squeezing my guts flat against my spine. It's my fantasy heaven." "Good. That's just how I want you. Now - watch out - here comes the killer!" With that, she curled her legs up to pull me tighter into her crotch, then thrust them out, straight and hard, violently. Her thighs slammed into my stomach, overwhelming any resistance, crushing down with such force that I yelped like a frightened dog. I remembered what she had said about making me squeal, heard myself whimpering, my body shaking helplessly as her legs tightened into me. "Gotcha! This feels so good. Your abs are all mushy, practically leaking between my legs, flowing over my thighs like Jell-O. Feel the power. I'm going to keep squeezing you now, just to keep you trembling --- it's like having a vibrator against my loins. I love it. I haven't used the full strength of my glutes yet, and I want to feel your spine between my adductors when I harden them into you. How does this feel?" I could only respond by writhing helplessly, my legs flailing, my mouth agape, emitting strangled gasping sounds of agony, tears stinging my eyes as I struggled for breath. "Uh. Uh. Oof.oooh---oooooheeee." "Not much of a talker, are we. Just as well. Don't waste what little breath you have left. Just relax, and let me squeeze you long and slow. How do your legs feel? Can you feel your lower body?" she asked, loosening the pressure to let me try to talk. Her question caused me to focus on my lower body. What I felt was like the aftermath of when your legs go to sleep --- a faint tingling, but no communication. My legs were numb, no feeling, no co-ordination. I was sure I had an erection, but I could not feel it. "I can't feel anything. What's happening to me? It feels like I'm paralyzed." "Don't worry. You're not. It's just that you haven't been getting much blood flow past my legs for the past few minutes, and my pressuring your spinal cord reduced your sense of what's happening down there. If you were to try to walk now, you'd probably fall over." Suddenly, my stomach started to convulse, spasming in sharp heaves, and a dull nausea came over me. I could feel the contents of my stomach rise in my throat, squeezed upward by her legs, threatening to erupt in a burst of vomit. Fearful that I would choke, I writhed and squirmed desperately to loosen her grip, my hands clawing at the embedded blades of her thighs while I coughed helplessly. Her legs were so tight I couldn't move. I was like a torture victim strapped to a table under a wide leather band that flattened against me, pinning me, making it impossible for me to move. She felt it. "Uh oh, you got sick a little sooner than I expected. Turn your face to one side --- quick --- so if you puke, it comes out and doesn't go back down to clog your throat. I'll ease the pressure so your stomach can function to try to hold what' in it. When my legs broke your abdominal muscles, your internal organs were pretty much on their own, unprotected, and I was squeezing you like a tube of toothpaste. What was inside had to come out --- vomiting is the first exit path." She loosened her legs and began caressing me gently with her thigh muscles --- rhythmic waves of squeezing and releasing across the front of my stomach, swelling my erection until I felt my skin would tear from the internal pressure. She coiled one arm around my head, pulling my face in against hers. With her other hand, she reached down and ran her fingernails lightly, ever so lightly, over the distended skin of my scrotum. My testes felt swollen as if to burst, my entire being smothered in the sensual coils of her constricting limbs. "My legs made you weak, but they didn't wipe out your libido. You're huge and hard again. Do you want me to rub you with my hand --- or take you inside me and squeeze an orgasm out of you with my legs?" "The legs. Use your legs --- please." _______________________________ She had been playing with me for about five minutes, stroking my testes and the head of my shaft with her fingers, squeezing my crotch and upper leg with rhythmic constrictions of her thighs. She stopped and asked if I was ready to come again. Of course I said I was. She opened her legs wide, inviting me into them, then clamped down around me. I tried to enter her, but my erection was inadequate, half flaccid from all the stimulation she had been applying. She tried to insert me, gradually succeeding, but we both knew I would not be able to maintain much hardness. "I don't think I can do this. I'm too soft and I won't be able to re-enter if I slip out." "Don't worry, You won't slip out until after I've made you come." "How are you going to do that?" "With my legs. Remember? That's what you asked for. Watch and feel." She gradually stuffed my half-erect penis into her, stroking it gently to induce greater hardness. When I was about half way into her, she rolled to one side, facing me, then lashed her legs around my sides, locking me again in her bodyscissors. She arched her back and applied pressure, straightening her legs, squeezing in long hard constrictions, tightening herself against me and bearing down with her internal muscles tighter and tighter around my shaft with each squeeze. She rolled onto her back, keeping her legs scissored around me, then arched her pelvis into me, pressing hard against the base of my penis, burying it within her, locking me deeper in the powerful vise of her thighs and internal muscles. "Ouch, that hurts!" I cried out in mock pain. "You haven't felt anything yet. Try to escape, if you think you can." I tried to pull back, but she kept her legs wrapped tight around me, squeezing with a long slow constriction until I was gasping for breath. I felt my penis reacting and almost erupting under the pressure, her hips and internal muscles squeezing and pumping to drive me inexorably to the orgasm she wanted. Suddenly, without warning, she stopped, loosened her leggy grip and let me breathe freely again. "What happened? Why did you stop?" "You offering some resistance, and I was squeezing you so hard to overcome it, I was afraid I was going to maim you. My thighs were bending your floating ribs, and my knees were digging into your kidneys. Your defenses were near collapse, and I might have done permanent damage to your internal organs if I kept up the pressure." "I don't care. Don't stop. Please." She smiled in anticipation. "Ok. It's your funeral --- ready, here goes!" With that, she resumed her squeezing, imprisoning me in the coils of her strong body, wrapping herself around me like a giant constrictor snake, tightening those wonderful legs, constricting my whole being, squeezing me to another shivering orgasm, forcing me to ejaculate in repeated throbbing spasms under the wonderful, incredible pressure, my screams echoing down the hallways of her house.