Right up until things went south in a hurry, Ken Trenton thought he had the world by the tail. He was a successful lawyer with his own practice, an office that he presided over like it was his own personal fiefdom… and an attitude that more than made up for his diminutive, 5’ 4” stature. In short, pun fully intended, he was a prick to work for, a prick to face in court, and a prick to the women in his life. But now he was struggling for breath, crushed under the merciless weight of the woman on top of him as she ground her naked pussy over his face. Gush after gush of her juice poured over his face in a torrent as she bore down with all of her weight, his head completely engulfed in her flesh. Her shaved pussy was massive, nearly swallowing his mouth and nose as she rode out wave after never-ending wave of orgasm on his squashed features. She humped and ground and he gagged as his nose filled with her fluid. He tried to feebly push her off, but she held his wrists in a vise-like grip. The incredible heat pulsating from her, the overwhelming scent of her all around him, in his nose, in the back of his throat, was too much, and he felt the world slipping away from him as she bounced her flesh on his nose, his chin, using every feature of his face like a sex toy. His skin was raw, filled with the pain of friction and the unbelievable pressure of her considerable weight. Her pussy juice covered his face and shoulders like a thick glaze and slicked his hair. It was all he could smell, and she showed no sign of slowing down. This couldn’t be happening to him, he was never at the mercy of women. How the hell did he end up here? Women were objects for him to boss around, to ogle, to please him. He only employed women in his office because he enjoyed the power he held over them.
One of those women was Rachel, a meek, rather mousy woman who worked as his paralegal for the past six months. Rachel put up with every form of degrading sexist comment, every order to fetch him things like coffee, his dry-cleaning, the Hustler magazines he kept brazenly on his office coffee table. But when Ken fired her on the spot the one time she screwed up the courage to tell him to stop rubbing up against her when they passed in the hallway, he went into a rage and fired her, not even giving her time to pack up her desk. He called two security guards to dump her belongings into a cardboard box and rudely rush her out the door. Rachel was devastated. It was five days ‘til Christmas and she hadn’t done her holiday shopping yet. That is, whatever shopping she could do on the tiny salary she had made working for Ken. But that one act of standing up for herself had ignited a small flame that grew within her as she began, for the first time in her life to get angry.
She had called a girlfriend to meet for drinks so she could drown her sorrows for a while. As her friend listened to Rachel pour out her feelings, the shame that she felt being escorted out of the office like a criminal, her rage over being fired Christmas week, a thoughtful look came across her face, as though weighing carefully what she was about to say.
When Rachel stopped to blow her nose, her friend said, “Rach, I never thought I’d be telling you this, but there’s a service just for women in your position. Years ago, I was in a similar situation, and all I could think about was revenge—but I didn’t know how to go about it. Then a friend told me about a private, underground company called BBI—Ball Busters Inc. It’s a group of women who know how to put weasels like your slimy boss in their place, how to humiliate them, turn them into submissive little sissies. Trust me, it’s the ultimate revenge. They only take on female clients in situations like yours. And they work on a sliding scale. Here… let me give you their card.
Rachel, already on her third martini, surprised herself when she grinned a bit drunkenly and took the card, thinking that maybe it was time she busted out of her passive way of going through life.
Vikki Miller, aka Ms Victoria Valentine, smiled to herself as she read Rachel’s letter. She was a woman of truly Amazonian proportions: 6’4” in her bare feet and 240 curvaceous pounds, most of which centered heavily in her 42 DDD breasts, and 50 inch ass that bubbled out gloriously from her 38 inch waist. Her thighs were thick, but solidly muscled, perfect for squeezing helpless wimps with the crushing force of an anaconda. She had size 13 feet with surprisingly high arches, feet that she proudly referred to as her mancrushers, and many a poor slob found himself struggling to breath as she marched up and down on his broken body. It wasn’t exactly that she hated men; in fact, she appreciated a good submissive who knew his place and pampered her body. But as for the arrogant, the sexists, the jerks of the world… well, let’s just say that she really enjoyed her work. She sat up straighter on her human couch, who groaned a bit as she applied more of her weight to his chest. She always kept a slave on hand to recline upon, preferring a male body to artificial furniture any day. And as she could be a generous mistress to those who were truly submissive, she always had an eager male harem at her beck and call. Her perfectly maintained eyebrows arched as she read with growing interest. The letter began:
Dear Ms Victoria,
I’m writing to you because I need your help. I work for a real pig of a boss—a sexist jerk who has made my life a living hell for the past six months. He is always leering at me, putting his hands on me, and telling me to “fetch him coffee like a good doll.” He calls me “Babe” and “toots” and sweet-cheeks,” and other demeaning things. When I couldn’t take it any more and told him to stop, he just laughed in my face and fired me on the spot. Now it’s almost the holidays and I have no job. I can’t let him get away with this!
Your ad said that revenge is your business, and revenge is what I want. I want to hire you to crush this little jerk like a bug, humiliate him, make him pay for everything he’s put me through. I was thinking that you could apply for my job so you can get him alone. If you ask to do the interview at his home, the stupid little shit will go for it, thinking you’re some skinny little bimbo willing to blow him for a chance at the job. Knowing him, once he gets a look at your powerful body, he’ll be too speechless to do anything when he opens the door. He likes to think that women are inferior to men, and believe me, you’ll scare the hell out of him! Use this element of surprise to get into his house. He’ll have made sure he’s alone, so you’ll have total privacy to work. Put him down on the ground and sit on him in a schoolboy pin. I want him to know that I hired you for this, so please read the following out loud to him while you’re pinning him.
Vikki read on, and felt herself getting wet at the prospect of this job. Rachel had a devious imagination; what she was requesting was wonderfully wicked. This, she told herself, is why she loved her job. The letter concluded with:
And Victoria, when you’re done with this shithead, if he refuses to give me my old job back, you can put him out of your misery if you want, but I’ll bet he’ll be begging you to let him hire me back. And he’ll be a well-trained boss from now on.
So many thanks,
Vikki purred, “Well, my little slave,” to the thin man she was sitting on, “looks like I have an assignment. You can start cleaning and polishing all of my shoes while I’m away. And do a good job, or … well, I don’t have to tell you what will happen now, do I?” Her slave looked up around the curve of her ample hip and smiled. This is what he lived for.
luck. The voice on his
was sultry and smoky, but suitable demure. “Mr.
I heard that you are interviewing for a new paralegal and
I’m just out of school from Cal Western. I
would love to
interview, but won’t be in town until a bit later
tonight. I was wondering, and I
this isn’t too presumptuous, if we could interview at your
house. I thought it might be a
bit more intimate for
us to interview there. Please let me
know, as I’d do anything to get the job. Thanks,
rushed home after
work to prepare the house, loading a Miles Davis disk in the player and
a bottle of 1945 Chateau Mouton-Rothschild that he had been saving for
such an occasion so that it could breathe. When
his doorbell rang,
he was admiring himself in the mirror, savoring
the tailored fit of his cream colored Armani suit.
popped a breath mint in his mouth as he
opened the door, and then nearly choked on it when he saw
“Well,” she said sweetly,” are you going to stand there with your mouth open or offer a girl a drink? I see you have a ’45 Rothschild waiting,” and she gestured to the open bottle and two crystal glasses on the bar table. “And close the door, sweetie, it’s a bit chilly, don’t you think”.
Before he knew what he was doing, Ken closed the door. What the hell am I doing? He asked himself, completely flustered. As he struggled to think of what to say, he saw with disbelief that she pulled a Rocky Patel cigar out of her purse, cut it expertly, and lit it with a gold torch lighter, blowing a plume of smoke into the room. Then she plopped loudly down on his couch and stared flatly at him. Jesus Christ, he thought, growing angry, but out of his element. What the hell is this crazy broad thinking?!
“Hey,” he said, struggling for the right words, “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but…”
I’m not thinking anything, Ken,” she said with a disturbing confidence. “I’m just sitting here enjoying my cigar and waiting for some wine.” She tapped her ruby fingernails on the side table near the couch, which was sagging appreciatively under her weight. “Is this how you treat all of your applicants?”
Ken felt the anger boiling up inside of him. “Listen,” he said through clenched teeth, “No woman talks to me like that, barges into my home! You need to learn some manners, babe.”
He puffed himself up as much as his short stature would allow. When he asserted himself over a woman, he no longer felt short; he felt six feet tall and built like a linebacker. But even that was small compared to the woman on his couch.
After a long pause during which she calmly held his stare, she said, “Well, I’m sorry to hear you say that, Ken.” She stood up far more agilely than her size should have allowed, set her cigar in the crystal ashtray on the side table, and walked over to him. The click of her heels was maddeningly loud on his hardwood floor. “Actually,” she said, glowering down at him, “that’s a lie. I was hoping you’d say something like that. It makes what I’m about to do so much more delicious.” Before he could respond, she through her arms around him and lifted his feet off of the ground. Wrapping her arms tightly, she squeezed him in a bear hug that was impossibly tight, crushing all of the air out of him. Her grip was like steel cables, and he felt more than heard his back popping and crunching in her grip.
“Oh, Kenny Kenny Kenny,” she said, not even slightly out of breath despite the exertion of her arms, her biceps bulging beneath the deceptive layers of flesh. “What’s the matter? I’m just a girl, right? Or how do you put it? A babe. Let’s hear you talk big now, you little runt.” And she tightened her grip. Just before he blacked out, he heard his back pop from the base of his spine to his neck like a burst of machine gun fire.
came to, he was
lying on the carpet in his den, groaning. He
opened his eyes to
see the woman standing over him, straddling him
with one bare foot on each side of his head. Her
legs stretched up
to an almost impossible height from his vulnerable
vantage point. While he was unconscious, she had stripped to her thong
underwear and a bra that seemed to be a feat of architectural marvel in
contained her massive breasts. Before he
could react, she dropped her huge ass down on his chest, crushing him
piledriver. His air fled his lungs
rapidly that it hurt and his chest nearly collapsed under her weight. Her
weight was beyond anything he had ever
felt. He tried to breath but
were nearly compressed flat, her weight too much for his chest to lift
to get a full breath. He resorted to
shallow panting, barely getting in enough air to stay conscious.
“Well, well, Ken,” she said sweetly, looking down at him, her hands on her hips. “Let me explain to you who I am and what I do. Rachel, your long-suffering former secretary, hired me to argue her case for rehire. And just so you know,” she said, leaning back with more weight on his chest as he groaned, “I don’t negotiate. Let me read you the part of her letter that she wanted you to hear.” And she reached down and picked up a piece of paper from the ground. She unfolded it and read:
You thought you could treat me like your own personal toy for six months and then fire me? Oh, I don’t think so! Now you’re going to feel what it’s like to be someone’s toy. I hired the most powerful woman on the planet to crush, squeeze, and squash you like the insignificant bug that you are.
Remember how you used
to squeeze my ass when you walked by me? Now
She’s also going to put an end to your constant whining by smothering you. How humiliating it’s going to be for you to be helplessly smothered under her massive ass as she grinds it on your face? And that’s not all—she has other ways to smother you that you won’t believe. What a wimp you’ll feel like.
And since you used to
walk all over me at work, she’s going to walk all over you. .
. for real! She’s going
to trample you, stand on your
pathetic little chest with both feet and pose on you, look down and
the sight of you under her pretty feet. And
she’s going to make you clean her feet with your tongue,
worship them like the little bitch you are. That’s
And since you treated me like a piece of the furniture at work, she’s going use you as her own furniture, sit on you with all her weight like a couch, use your face for a footrest, use you like a carpet or a treadmill, or whatever else she wants. She’ll sit on your chest and bounce like you’re an exercise ball!
And then, when you’re
suitably humbled and humiliated, you’re going to worship her
any way she orders
you to. I know that
I only wish I could be there to see it!
Good luck, you little asshole,
Ken was nearly in tears as he heard what the bitch had planned for him, how she had set him up. He had never been humiliated like this, and his frantic mind scrambled for a way out. “Listen,” he whispered through nearly collapsed lungs, “ whatever she paid you I’ll double, no I’ll TRIPLE it. Just get off me!”
“Oh no, Ken,” she pouted, “I’m afraid it’s not that easy. You see, I don’t do this for the money. In fact, I’m not charging Rachel a penny for this. I take on special cases pro bono, free of charge, whenever I feel a greater good is being served. And speaking of being served,” she said, rolling her ass back over his chest and stomach and straightening her legs in front of her, it’s time to put you into my service.” She began to shift her weight from cheek to cheek, rocking from side to side on him like a rolling pin. His stomach and chest screamed in pain as she squashed him under her ass, laughing like a child on an amusement park ride.
Then, without warning, she slid off of him and quickly scissored her legs around his midsection. He lay helpless, facing the ceiling, unable to wriggle free when he suddenly felt her legs harden, tighten slowly around him. He struggled harder to free himself, but with every twitch of his body, the squeeze grew tighter and tighter, inching towards an unbearable level.
“You can struggle all you want, runt, but all you’re doing is making it worse. Eventually, you’re going to hear a creaking sound—that will be your rib cage. Then, if I don’t think you’re getting the message, you’ll hear a series of snaps—those will be your ribs breaking one by one. I could crush you to death if I felt like it,” she said happily.
relentlessly, she continued to squeeze, increasing the
pressure at a maddeningly slow rate. Ken
felt as though he were being fed into a ringer at a laundry, her legs
impossibly firm, squeezing out his breath and compressing his
saw white spots dancing in front of his eyes and the edges of his
going gray around the edges. His midsection felt flat as a sheet of
his internal organs felt ready to burst out of his chest. Just when he
the relentless squeezing would cut him in two,
Ken,” she purred, “that establishes a nice baseline
us. That was about two
thirds of my
strength. If I were to go
on you, your bones would crack like dry twigs, your eyes would nearly
of your head, and you’d start bleeding from the ears. If
you don’t follow every order, every
command, I’ll crush you into paste between my
legs.” Ken’s body was wracked
with pain from the squeezing, and he began to tremble uncontrollably. “Aww,”
“Come on, Kenny, be a good attorney. Plead your case. Maybe you can persuade me.”
opened his mouth to blurt out something, anything, but
as the first syllable passed his lips,
“Oh, don’t worry little man,” she cooed. We have miles to go before you sleep. You just take a breather and lie there. Ooh, seems like you got me nice and wet there. I love this part!” Still straddling him, she reached into her purse and pulled out a razor sharp switchblade. In two quick moves, she cut the thong from each hip and pulled it out from her ass crack. Ken noticed with horror at how damp… no at how wet it was. Literally dripping with pussy juice and ass sweat. She casually reached behind her and said in a firm voice, “Open wide, Kenny.” Ken recoiled in horror at the thought of what she intended for him to do. “Ken,” she said, with a tenseness in her voice, “I told you what would happen if you failed to follow my every command. Care to go back between my legs for a refresher squeeze?”
was speechless, and merely shook his head, a fine sweat
breaking out on his forehead. “Now,”
said again, “Open your goddamn mouth you little
worm!” Ken reluctantly opened
his mouth and
you knees up like a good little slave chair,
Kenny. Unless you’d
like to go back
under my ass!” Ken groaned at he
but obediently raised his knees to provide a backrest for her.
Ken couldn’t believe this new level of degradation. When would it end? But his fear over what she would do to him won out. He licked and sucked and kissed every inch of her soles, sucked each toe, and ran his tongue between her toes to clean every inch of them. His tongue seemed to move as if it had a life of its own, flicking in and out like a snake’s. While he worked to clean her feet, she made pleasant little chirping and purring sounds.
there Ken,” she said suddenly, “I think
beginning to enjoy yourself there. I
feel something poking me in the back. Are
you daring to enjoy
yourself? Do you mean you have
the nerve to get a hardon without asking my
permission?!” She suddenly lifted
feet from his face and placed them on either side of his head. Lifting
her ass off of his stomach, she
slammed it down on him in a series of brutal bounces.
(slam!) DARE (slam!) YOU (slam!)!!! she
thundered. She continued to
him under her ass, bouncing on his stomach and chest over and over.
he thought his skeletal frame would collapse under her weight, she
leapt off of
him. Getting to her feet,
she placed one
size thirteen foot on his chest and stomped him over and over. Each
stomp was like a jab from a heavyweight
boxer, pushing his sternum to the breaking point.
then turned on his chest and began to slowly walk down
his torso, further squashing him with each step. “Now,”
she said, coming to a rest on his
stomach, “lets see what I can do to teach that pathetic cock
of yours a
lesson. You were a prick to
so maybe I should just put your prick out of commission.” She
lifted her left foot off the ground and
placed it over his limp penis. She began
to stroke it with her sole until it was just beginning to get hard. Then
she placed her entire foot over it,
covering the tip to his balls, and stepped down slowly with all of her
weight. Ken was trapped between
the relief of the pressure from his stomach and the fire of pain raging
his cock and balls as they were flattening under her foot.
she raised her other foot off him and
stood with all of her 240 lbs squishing his manhood.
laugh was like a
jagged piece of glass in Ken’s head, adding to the physical
torture he was
undergoing. He tried to scream form
weight completely flattening his manhood and threatening to crack his
no sound could emerge. Mercifully,
know, Ken,” she said, “I’m still not sure
gotten the message that you are a dickless creep, an impotent wimp who
only rehire Rachel, but will worship her feet whenever she
commands.” Ken tried to mask the
initial reaction of
disgust that came over his face, but he was too late.
“Ok little man, now shuffle over to that low coffee table there and kneel in front of it.” Ken obeyed, his will completely broken now. His only thoughts were of surviving this assault with as little damage as possible. He painfully lowered himself to his knees on the sturdy mahogany table and awaited her next command. “Now be a good little slave and put your pathetic excuse of a cock on the table,” she said, locking him in her steely gaze. Ken couldn’t fathom what he was hearing. But he was so beaten down that he did as she commanded, laying his raw cock gingerly on the table. Before he knew it, she gracefully stepped onto the table in front of him. He was amazed that the table could hold her weight. She slipped off her left shoe and gently began use her long toes to play with his cock. As soft as her touch was, it was still painful to be touched, but he was amazed to feel a slight stirring in his cock. It was acting as if it had a mind of its own. She slowly and gently rolled her toes across his shaft, lightly squeezing and relaxing. In no time, he was semi-hard.
as I thought, you little perv,” she mocked. After
all of the abuse I’ve heaped on your
puny body, you still have some of your old arrogance left in you, huh? Well,
I’ll just have to put your prick out of
its misery!” And she slipped her
back on her foot and raised it directly over his cock.
goodbye to little Johnny!” And
she stepped down, applying half of her
weight onto him. Ken felt pain like an
electric current rocket through his body. He
prayed for a
blackout, anything to escape the crushing weight on his
was aware first of the throbbing ache in his groin, and
then the profound soreness of his entire body as the world slowly
returned. There was a pressure on
his chest, and he
couldn’t move his arms. His
into vision and he horrified to see that the worst was not over, as
cried openly now, but nodded his head. He
was broken, defeated. He accepted his fate
with a sad
resignation. “But now,
we’re not quite
done here yet. I want to make sure you
get the message, and I’ve had so much fun with you today that
I’ve gone and
gotten all hot and wet again. I need
some me-time with you.” With
slid forward and began rubbing her dripping pussy on his face. Ken
surrendered, and began licking furiously,
running his tongue over her lips, sucked gently on her clit, felt her
wetness envelope him. She writhed her
hips like a belly dancer, grinding down on him with more weight. He
was no longer a man; he was a toy for her
pleasure. She began sliding back
forth over his face, increasing her speed as she slid across him, using
chin, his nose, his protruding tongue to build to an ever increasing
orgasm. Just when he thought
explode, she quickly turned around and buried his face in her ass. “Lick
it!” she screamed, “lick my ass,
slave! Drink my sweat, lick my
crack! Do it NOW!!”
ran his tongue up and down the length of her crack,
tasting her funky, musky female essence. Her
pounded his face as she rode up and down on him. She
was in his nose, capturing all of him,
all of his senses controlled by her. He
found her asshole and penetrated as far as his tongue could reach,
far, and he tasted her deep ass. His
mouth formed a suction cup over her bud as he pushed deeper and deeper. She
straightened her back and then arched as
she came in a flood, soaking him in her essence. After
the waves of her orgasm subsided, she
slowed her rhythm and came to a rest on his face, her ass covering his
but allowing him just enough air to survive.
“Oh, yes,” she panted at last. “I think I can call this a job well-done on my part.”