I’m a writer by trade and, in a rush of typical immodesty, I like to think a damn good one. I’ve written thousands of stories over the years, mostly mainstream, but also of the scissor variety, penning tales of strong-legged women destroying their scissored prey in all manner of grips and crushes, and I’ve built up quite a following.
So lately, I started doing stuff for the gorgeous and quite leggy Venus for ScissorFoxes, and she seemed amenable to what I’d done for a bit, until that one fateful night in Toronto that I happened to be in town, and she came to visit. It was going pleasantly enough, but then she pulled out one of my latest stories, reading it, and wrinkling her cute little nose on that pretty little face, out of which came words no writer likes to hear.
“You can do better than this,” she sighed. “Really, you’ve done better work.”
I was stunned. I mean really, this snot-nosed little twerp of 20-something was gonna tell me, an experienced, established writer, that he could do better? Not on my watch, baby.
“Oh really,” I said in a huff.
“Yes,” she said, rather politely but firmly. “Frankly, it lacks inspiration.”
Indeed.
“Well shit, I do my best,” I mumbled as she lay on my hotel bed in white sweats and a sexy blue denim top. “Fuck, who knows, maybe I do need a little inspiration.”
“Be right back,” she said, slipping off the bed and into the bathroom.
I figured she was going to the john and that was that, she’d leave and I could do what I wanted. Until she came out wearing really short, tight, silver panties that totally revealed one of the best asses I’d ever seen, not to mention those legendary legs I’d seen her use in countless videos to crush victims into submission.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.
“Giving you a little inspiration, Kandor!” she growled.
She tossed me to the bed, pulling me to my back, my head facing up and instantly I was in the death zone, Venus’s gorgeous, well-muscled and inspiration thighs locked around me in one of the tightest reverse face scissors I’d ever been in. The pain was instant and intense as she locked her meaty, muscular calves together and rippled those Goddam thighs into my skull, my face inches from that beautiful ass that was now not so beautiful, in that those sexy smooth glutes were the engine with which she powered down on her scissors. It hurt like hell and I screamed like a bitch girl, madly tapping her huge thighs in submission.
She took no mercy and squeezed harder. What a bitch!
“Think this is inspirational enough for ya, Kandor?” I think I heard her say, what with my ears packed solid with her insanely powerful thighs.
“PLEASE VENUS STOP SQUEEZING ME!!” I squeaked in a warbled voice, feeling her rock-hard adductors ripple into the sides of my neck, taking me to the point of sleep, slapping her thighs madly to signal my surrender, which she dutifully ignored. “PLEASE!!!!”
She laughed and said something else, but damned if I could hear a thing with her thigh muffs strapped around my scissored skull. I felt tingling in my hands and feet and knew if she didn’t stop, I’d be out cold. And this is a girl who has, as you may know, knocked countless men out cold in her vise-grip thighs.
“Pleeesh….shtop…” I heard myself slur in a drunken ramble.
She let up just short of killing me only to roll me to my belly and take me in a face-first scissors, tilting my head up and making sure those crazy thighs were laced around my neck and jaw, to ensure proper carotid crimp, her stock in trade when it comes to knocking victims out in her scissors. Through watery eyes, I looked up her sweet belly and up over those gorgeous boobs into an exceptionally pretty face smiling down at me, her own dark green eyes flashing with power and determination.
“This is pretty inspirational isn’t it?” she laughed. “My thighs crushing your skull?”
I had to admit, it was but at the same time, my mind wasn’t penning any scissor stories in it, it was too busy focusing on that extraordinary pain coursing through my being and the fear of dying because of it. She was brutal and consistent, now folding her legs up, taking the pressure off my head and then slamming them out straight in what she was calling “Venus’s Scissor Snaps,” thundering her muscular thighs off my ears and skull and neck over and over and over, nearly causing my teeth to shatter on each impact.
Then, the moment I feared the most was now about to become a reality. “You’re goin’ out,” she said in dark dominant tone and I flailed like a madman, slapping them gorgeous thighs.
Just as I was about to fall into a deep slumber, I begged “PLEEEESHH….I'LL DO ANYTHING!!!" as if these were my final wishes, my brain denied oxygen courtesy of her man-eating, head-cracking thighs. "PLEASE DON'T KNOCK ME OUT!!"
Venus laughed and eased up just enough to let the blood flow again. "Ok" she said with a huge grin, grabbing my wallet off the night stand. "I'll see if you can afford a TEMPORARY knockout pass."
After emptying my wallet and counting the cash, she continued her non-stop crushing assault. I couldn’t believe how savage her scissors were, how dominant this otherwise sweet little thing could be. Granted, I’d seen her in action in videos, but I’d made enough of them myself to know when it’s not real, having faked pain a lot. This, however, was no fake job, seldom had I ever experienced such power, pain and humiliation as this little woman was doling out in huge portions in her crushing, quaking thighs as she exploded them into my head again and again.
For good measure, she snaked on a figure four, her huge, muscular calf knifing into the back of my neck, and then started snapping that, and I swore she’d just tear my head off doing it, bending my head at odd, painful angles, wrenching my neck in her relentless scissor assault until my water eyes shut against the mounting pain and I prayed for a merciful, quick demise.
Not so lucky I would be, as she switched me out to a straight headscissor from behind, again doing the Venus Scissor Snap on me, bending her legs up, holding them there as if to tease me with possible release and then slamming them out straight, ankles locked, thighs throbbing, my head feeling like it was caught in a flesh-covered industrial clamp. I couldn’t believe how badly she was fucking me up – and it had only been a few minutes!
Over and over she squeezed, again ramming a thick, sexy calf to my throat for more windpipe-cracking snappy figure fours, just about jerking my head off my shoulders. Then just for fun, she slipped up behind me for a rib-bending bodyscissor and sleeper, her amazingly powerful arms snaked around my neck, crushing my windpipe and taking me to the edge of sleep in a flash. I submitted, of course, and of course, she neglected my frantic cries for help or slapping of her crunching thighs. She just ramped it up more every time.
She finally finished me off in typical Venus style – in a reverse facescissors, me on my back, that phenomenally beautiful ass inches from my face, which ordinarily I’d find appealing. But as I watched those sexy, supple cheeks throb, pulsate, quiver and quake, I knew the thundering scissor they would produce wouldn’t be too far off and sure enough, her massive thighs exploded to life, her going full out, back arched, crushing my skull, face and neck in the all-consuming interiors of them and squeezing me dizzy in a flash.
“I'm a woman of my word." she said taunting me, flexing those glutes. "And since you paid me, I won't knock you out...this time." And with a final blow, Venus clamped down hard as if she were to pop my head off. "But next time you might not be so lucky."
And then it was over, it was all a blur, this vision of legendary scissor beauty was perched on my belly, flexing her arms, and asking “Are you inspired now?”
Just check out the video, and you’ll have your answer…
