Happy Hormones Crip Walking 2
Price: 6.00
(Story: DTM, Artwork: Jupiter 1)
The tour far ahead of them, Amy and her mother decided to make their own way across the university. Past quiet walkways and well-manicured lawns, the tall women continued to draw attention. Amy, in particular, loved to draw more of it. Whether it was flexing her rock-hard calves walking past a group of guys, or pressing her huge melons together with her arms while she asked someone for directions, she always got her desired reaction (stares of longing for her perfectly-built body). Her favorite activity was bending over at the waist after 'accidentally' dropping her handbag, giving an unwitting guy behind her a direct view of her amazing bowling ball glutes. She would then turn her head, give her ass a playful smack and blow a kiss sure to leave an erection as the two women would continue on and laugh.
tour Amy mother own way university walkways lawns women attention flexing rock-hard calves group of guys pressing huge melons arms directions desired reaction stares longing perfectly-built body favorite activity bending over waist handbag unwitting guy direct view amazing bowling ball glutes turn head playful smack blow a kiss erection two women laugh
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Happy Hormones Crip Walking 1
Price: 6.00
(Story: DTM, Artwork: Jupiter 1)
Amy stepped out of the doorway, her massive, half-naked, golden tan body rippling with muscles. She was dressed in her favorite 'little schoolgirl' uniform, an outfit that left little to the imagination. Small black schoolgirl shoes adorned her feet, as white socks wrapped their way up her huge calves (barely able to cover their diamond hard shape). A way too-tight schoolgirl blouse was tied just below her chest, almost unable to contain her breasts. Her visible washboard abs, rippling with muscle, flexed as she softly breathed in and out. Around her waist was a tiny skirt that barely covered her massive tree trunk thighs. Teddy bear panties were visible underneath the skirt, starting to get slightly damp with arousal. Her face was made up to look young: rosy cheeks and a brilliant white smile. Her always-present pigtails hung from either side of her head, and bounced as she strode over to the man behind the desk.
Amy stepped out doorway massive half-naked golden tan body rippling muscles dressed favorite little schoolgirl uniform outfit imagination small black schoolgirl shoes adorned feet white socks wrapped huge calves diamond hard shape way too-tight schoolgirl blouse tied below chest unable contain breasts visible washboard abs flexed softly breathed waist tiny skirt barely covered massive tree trunk thighs teddy bear panties visible underneath skirt slightly damp arousal face made up look young rosy cheeks brilliant white smile always-present pigtails hung either side head bounced strode man behind desk
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The Lipstick Detective
Price: 8.00
(Story: Arnoldziffel1, Artwork: Tan Yk)
'Greece!' Billie wasn not punching the heavy bag at the Gargoyle Gym, she was pummeling it. Punishing it, actually. speed boxing. She flurried her fists against the heavy bag, delivering a powerful jolt with each strike. She threw hooks, crosses, jabs, and uppercuts, all with precise accuracy and tremendous strength. The bag bounced wildly on its chain, hanging tough against the onslaught of punches. She grinned at Andy, then sneered at the bag like it was an enemy. Billie finished her workout with a blistering Left, Left, Right blitzkrieg that knocked it off the hanger, slamming into the nearby wall. 'Okay, all done!' The manager groaned. 'Really, Billie? Again?' After a quick shower she changed into her work clothes. She examined what she saw in the mirror: A solid 200 pounds of toned muscle packed onto a 5 foot 7 inch frame with a ghost of baby fat here and there. Pretty, pert breasts supported by a pectoral wall. Six abs the size of her fists proudly making their presence known below her peaches and cream skin. She slipped on a sleeveless shirt and flexed her right arm, a rock hard hill of muscle forming beside her big shoulder. 'Flabby bitch!' she laughed.
Greece Billie heavy bag Gargoyle Gym speed boxing hooks crosses jabs uppercuts accuracy strength Andy enemy Left Right blitzkrieg manager shower work clothes mirror muscle toned frame baby fat breasts pectoral wall abs skin sleeveless shirt flexed rock hard muscle flabby
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Concetta and Yau Nam
Price: 8.00
(Undisclosed)
Concetta is a high level, black belt practioner of the Yau Nam. Yau Nam is a little-known sexual and martial art. This is an account of one morning in her life - she first shags three men senselss, then moves on to the Yau Nam dojo and takes on two Yau Nam masters. The morning is completed when she takes on the dojo instructor, and leaves him physically and sexually drained.
Concetta high level black belt practioner Yau Nam sexual martial art morning shags men senselss dojo masters instructor physically drained sexually drained
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Mucle Mama Pupetta
Price: 8.00
(Story: Diana the Valkyrie, Artwork: ZGannero, Original Character: cee666)
I'm six feet seven, high heels take me up to seven feet. Yes, there are advantages in being tall, but there's also drawbacks. It's nice to be able to see over the heads in a crowd, but it's not so nice banging my head on projections that assume that no-one is more than six feet. This is both a blessing and a curse. It's a blessing because people stop and stare at me, it's a curse because that causes pedestrian traffic jams. It's a blessing that I don't need a bra, they support themselves rather well, but that leaves me with quite a lot of wobble. Think jelly on a plate. Yes, I can run, they're firm enough for that, but skipping rope? No way. It's a blessing because I can cause very strong erections just by standing still; it's a curse because my breasts are a major cause of premature ejaculations, and those ejaculations are usually in such volume that the ejaculator is incapable for further sexual activity for hours. And that, of course, is very frustrating for me. And it's a curse because people used to ask me: Are those real? Which is why I started wearing little or nothing above the waist, because then no-one asked me silly questions about my tits.
tall advantages drawbacks crowd projections blessing curse pedestrian traffic jams bra wobble firm erections breasts premature ejaculations frustrating real questions tits.
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Rough sex at the gym part 2
Price: 8.00
(Story: Arnoldziffel1, Artwork: Tan Yk)
A fitness girl throws caution to the winds and makes a chalenge. Her feeble punches did nothing. Then the beating began. Punches to her face, a full nelson that almost killed her, and then her head was pounded into the ground. This was brutality expressed in anger, with a side order of brain damage.
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Pizza Girl part three
Price: 8.00
(Undisclosed)
Today I was attacked again - the guy wanted the money I was carrying. He was waving a knife around, but it was a dinner knife and he looked really stupid with it. "OK, OK," I said, "My life isn't worth the cash I'm carrying, it's on the bicycle, I'll just get it." But also on the bicycle was my hockey stick, and that's a yard long. I unclipped it, and swung at his head, as one does. He ducked, of course, but I caught him a good one on the shoulder. He yelled "Bitch" and came at me with the knife, but I got him on the left ear with the second swipe of my stick, and he staggered. Why a hockey stick, you might be wondering. Because a baseball bat looks like a weapon, but a hockey stick looks like sports equipment. Which it is, and I've had plenty of practice with it. So he was still coming at me with his cutlery, so after I'd bounced my hockey stick off his left ear, I did a follow through, spun round and smashed my weapon into his right ear. Now he was dazed, but he still had his knife, so I lined up carefully and whacked his right hand, cracking his knuckles and causing him to drop the blade. Now he was disarmed, I suppose I could have just got on the pizza bike and rode off, but my blood was up and I wasn't going to stop now. The standard strike with a hockey stick is, of course, to the shins, followed by an "Oops, sorry about that!". So I took careful aim, raised the stick and brought it down as hard as I could. There was a satisfying "Crack!" and I knew that my assailant was finished. So I put my hockey stick back on its bracket, got on the pizza bike and rode off into the sunset. Or I would have, but it was night time so I rode off into the moonlight.
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Too big
Price: 8.00
(Story: Diana the Valkyrie, Artwork: Robolord and Diana the Valkyrie)
Elaine has a problem - she's too big. Not fat, but big. Her ambition is to join the college football team. Not a "girls team", but THE team. That's how she meets Jeremy, who is much too small for the team, and both of their lives are changed. They both fall in love. Her first date with him went very well, but for her second date, she needs a really posh dress, which she doesn't have. And she can't buy one, because she's ... too big. She visits a dressmaker who takes her remarkable measurements, and gets a quote for $600. She raises the cash by challenging, and defeating, one of the football team, at wrestling. So she can pay for new new dress, and the second date with Jeremy goes well, and ends with a powerful display of what it's like for Jeremy to have sex with a girl who is ten times as strong as he is.
Elaine problem big fat ambition college football team girls team Jeremy small lives changed love first date second date posh dress dressmaker measurements quote cash challenging defeating wrestling new dress powerful display sex ten times as strong
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The Black Burqa illustrated, part one
Price: 8.00
(Undisclosed)
My name is Ayesha. I am a pious Muslima, married to Raafid, my four off springs are Maryam, Gamali, Nasif and baby Kaadiha. I wear the veil, because I am a modest woman. I'm not smart like my friend Sfiyah. She seems to know everything. I read my Quran, and I'm still rather ignorant, unskilled and often I don't understand what people are saying. But I'm happy. At least, I was happy, until Raafid decided that he didn't like my cooking. To be honest, I don't blame him - cooking is one of the many skills I've never mastered. My food comes in two varieties, soggy or burned. So for the last two years, we've been at loggerheads. First, he spoke to me and told me to improve my cooking. I asked "How?" but he didn't have an answer. Then he tried to punish me by not joining me in bed. That's supposed to be a punishment? And when neither of those worked, he started beating me. They say that what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. That seemed to be true for me - I noticed that I was thickening in the places where the blows landed. And it was hard muscle, protecting my body from Raafid's rod. He kept it hanging on a hook on the wall, and I knew that when he took it down, I was in for another beating.
Ayesha pious Muslima married Raafid Maryam Gamali Nasif baby Kaadiha veil modest smart Sfiyah Quran ignorant unskilled happy cooking blame mastered food soggy burned loggerheads improve punish bed beating kill stronger thickening places blows muscle protecting body Raafid rod hanging hook wall
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The plough girl - part six
Price: 8.00
(Undisclosed)
We stayed talking until dusk, and then I lifted him back into the wheelchair, and set off for his apartment. "Olga," he said. "Mmh?" I answered. "Don't look back but we're being followed," he told me. I looked back. Sure enough, two guys were keeping station on us about fifty yards back. "Olga," he said again. "What?" "It's an ambush. There's another two guys up front, trying to hide in doorways. Leave me and run for it." "I'm not leaving you to get beaten up. That's my job," I joked. "Olga, this is serious. Four that I've spotted, and there could be others. And I don't think they're waiting to play patty-cake. Run for your life." No way. Plough girls aren't cowards. Gary had suffered enough at my hands, it was clearly on me to look after him. I wasn't going to leave him to the mercy of these four toughs. But I could see a way to even the odds a bit. I did a u-turn, and ran back the way we'd come. Clearly, the thugs weren't expecting me to run towards danger, so at first, they didn't know what to do. Ten seconds later I was in front of them. I kicked one of them in the head, which is a dangerous thing to do, because I could lead to a fatality, and the other one in the groin. He folded up nicely and I smashed my two fists into the back of his head as he went down. He hit the pavement, and lay still. By then, the other two had arrived, and I could see two more running towards me. This was good; two at a time is better than four at once. I left Gary and the two thugs I'd already handled, and met the first two before they could realise their mistake. I'm six foot three, and my legs are a lot longer than their arms. Which is just as well, because they were both armed with baseball bats, and looked like they were ready to use them. So I used the reach of my legs to kick one of them in the side, and there was a satisfying crack as his ribs broke. The other one swung his bat at me and connected. He hit my left shoulder, and my left arm went numb. But I grabbed his bat with my right hand and jerked it towards me. He had two choices, hold on or let go. Both choices were bad. If he let go, I would be armed and he not. So he hung on to the bat, and was jerked forward enough so that my raised knee could crash into his genitals. Strike four. The last two arrived, out of breath, and split up. One of them went for Gary, the other one pulled a knife and threatened me with it. So I picked up thug four and threw him at thug five, which I don't think he expected, and I followed up with a broken knife arm, so he dropped his weapon. A fist to the belly took him out of action, leaving thug six, who had wisely decided to make a run for it.
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