Mama Badass

"Are you having trouble? Are you going to give up?" She laughed, "Just a fluke, did you say? Is what I'm doing to your arm just a fluke?" she taunted, and started to pump her legs back and forth. The attack was pure sadism, wrenching his already bruised muscles and stretching the joint as if she wanted to yank his arm clean out of the socket. He didn't know any sort of counter for this sort of attack, nobody had even tried one, and he was helpless in the face of it. Not that his mother seemed to care, as she just laughed at his helplessness while she tortured him.

He couldn't think of any way to try to save himself, even trying to pull back was useless, since the crushing force of her legs was enough to compensate for the slick feel of her silk stockings. All he could do was grab the shoulder helplessly.

"PLEASE!" He cried out in pure searing pain.

"Please what~?" She asked in response, laughing at his feeble struggles against her might, "Please let you go? Do you submit?" She laughed, "Are your mother's thighs too much for you to handle, Zigzag?" She laughed.

"Aghh, I..." He started, but she didn't let him finish what he had been about to say.

"I know!" She announced, "You were going to say it's not fair, right?"

He didn't want to admit it, but right now, it felt it wasn't. There was no counter or method of dealing with such destructive raw force.

"Well you're right. How can it be a fair fight? My legs support my gorgeous body all day, your arms just lift weights sometimes. Arms versus legs can hardly be a fair fight."

He shivered at the sadistic tone in her voice as she continued, "How about we do Thighs vs Thighs instead?"

She rolled off his arm, and slid her body down, then opened her thighs wide. He wanted to back away from her, but he was in too much agony to even think of that, and besides, it would mean raising his leg, which would put the appendage in prime crushing position. Then she lowered her hips... And started to squeeze once more.

If he had thought the pain in the arm was bad, it was like a light tickle compared to what she did when she latched her mighty legs around his calf. Instantly it felt crushed flat. His thigh muscles were large and impressive, they had to be considering he was a professional athlere. All that mass, though, did nothing to save him from her body. If anything, that fact made it worse, the size of his thighs gave her that much more to squeeze down on. He let out a helpless scream when she started her attack, his legs instinctly trying to kick, which just meant that the twitching and releasing muscles gave her legs exposed the thighs to more torture, little shifts against the silk that allowed her that tiny bit more room to destroy his legs.

"AGHHHH! OH GOD!"

"Still can't take it, baby?" She asked, laughing as she cranked the pressure and twisted his hips, reducing his once-mighty thigh muscle to too much hamburger. He felt her hand on his bulge for a second and looked down in surprise, but she wasn't massaging him... She was just using an extra place to rest her hand as she leaned over him until her face was only inches from his.

"If it's too much, you just gotta say it. Won't even end the match, just say it," she taunted him. He bit his lip and tried to resist, but the resistance was blown away with a simple pulse of her legs.

"SAY IT" She repeated, her voice commanding now, a tone he would have instinctively obeyed even if he wasn't suddenly feeling the worst pain in his life on his largest and now weakest muscles.

"I CAN'T TAKE IT! YOUR THIGHS ARE TOO GOOD!"

She laughed at that, accepting his submission and releasing... But as she said, it wouldn't end the match. She didn't even fully stand up and get away, she didn't have the mercy to give him even that minor reprieve. Instead, she just slid forward over his hips, twisting to lie perpendicular around him, and wrapped her legs tight around the lower body a second time. The V of her legs was pressed right up to his pelvic bones as if she was planning to hump him like a stripper would a pole on a particularly crowded night. That fleeting thought demonstrated the second problem of the position she had chosen for her legs... The way that it brought them in body-to-body - Or, more accurately worse, body-to-spandex-to-silk-to-body contact - with the bulge that had been stretching his singlet to one extent or another the entire match. Considering the destruction she had just wreaked on his arm and his leg, two other once-hard fleshy parts of his body, he didn't even want to think of what she could do to that particular piece of his anatomy. Of course, thinking wouldn't be a problem for too long anyway. When it came to the types of torture that could be inflicted on his body, his mother seemed intent on keeping the thinking and imagination to a minimum, and the experiencing and suffering to a maximum. In other words, she tensed her thighs, and in an instant, he got to feel exactly what those mighty muscles could do to a man's... Well, manhood... When given the chance to squash it against flesh and bone.

It was horrific, but to his shock - And disappointment - It wasn't even only pain. Instead, the slick sensation and the pressure made his shaft fill out against her leg muscles. Now he didn't have to deal with merely the bone-crushing pressure of her mighty legs against his body, he also had to deal with the boner-crushing sensation of such powerful, firm, and destructive pressure surrounding his shaft and letting him know just how helpless he was. And the worryingly NOT boner-crushing knowledge that it was his own mother doing this to him, that some of the most incredible sensations he had ever experienced was coming not from a girl his own age, but from a woman who was not only old enough to give birth to him, but who actually had. He bit his lip, trying to avoid screaming for fear that it might come out as a moan rather than a cry. She, meanwhile, either didn't notice, or thought that encouraging that type of humiliation would go beyond even her twisted tastes. He could only hope it was the latter, since he didn't know how much longer he would be able to disguise the disturbing pleasure that was coming from the way the inner thigh repeatedly rubbed up against his shaft. It was pleasure almost great enough to make him forget just what incredible damage her mighty thighs were capable of doing to him, and frankly the fact that it was only ALMOST seemed to make it worse. Images of his nightmares flashed through his head, the helplessness, the weakness, and his mother's dominance and control. Despite his best efforts to hold it back, he let out a light whimper at the thought of just what she was capable of doing with her thighs.

"Aww, what was that, feeling weak, baby?" His mother teased, "You having trouble handling mama's legs? You not tough enough?"

The honey-sweet tone of her voice conspired with the feel of her thigh to spike his arousal like heart chart, and he suddenly gasped "Mom! Mom get off let up I give!"

He didn't know if she knew exactly why he had done it, a woman of her age surely would know the tones, but she didn't. In fact, she kept up the attack, but turned the vicious crush into a series of slow pulses, almost teasing him. If anything, it was a sign that she not only knew why he did it, but was encouraging it.

"Aww, giving up? My poor helpless boy giving up?" She laughed, "Oh, surely not. I thought that I had raised a tough boy who would fight through the pain. You're not going to tap out to a hip scissors, are you?" She laughed, her voice getting lower, as his shaft got harder and twitched faster. The pleasure was rising, the sensations getting wilder, and he was completely at her mercy... A trait he was rapidly discovering she seemed to not even have, as she leaned in and he heard her whisper in a low, taunting voice, "There isn't some other reason that you want to give up, is there?"

And then she repeated it, "IS THERE?!" This time, the question was accompanied by a hard squeeze with her thighs.

And it all became too much for him. He had ended every day too exhausted to even masturbate, which had left him pent up. That was likely the cause of his nocturnal emission, or at least he hoped it was, but that had taken the edge off, which meant the orgasm that completely rocked his body was, worryingly, all her doing. The edge being taken off may have made it completely her work, but the pent up time meant that her work netted her awesome amounts of cream that pumped heavily out of his shaft, spraying down her thigh like he was trying to re-dye her silk stockings pure white. Helpless against her mighty legs, he was completely hosing her thighs down. His seed was pumping from his cock like it was a super-soaker, spraying the silk and just making it worse. For her part, she didn't hold back or stop... In fact, she just squeezed more, pumping her thighs back and forth to make sure she dragged out every drop of seed that she could force him to provide.

"Ooooh, helpless little boy," she taunted, keeping him going, "Mommy made him all messy. Mommy made him wet his singlet. Mommy made him do a naaaauuuuuughty~" She laughed, continuing the heavy pumping assault on both his metaphorical and literal manhood. He couldn't even respond to the taunts anymore, with how she continuously pumped and pulsed her hips over him. He was too busy continuing to spray seed, make a mess of her thighs, her stockings, and even her skirt. It was the hardest orgasm of his life, cream pumping out for what felt like a full minute, shaking and shuddering beneath her, and she just laughed at him.

It took far too long for the orgasm to end, but eventually, thankfully, MERCIFULLY, it was over. And he heard laughter from his mother. Not the confident taunting laughter that he had heard from her up to now in her teasing, either. It was absolute genuine amusement at his plight. She had made him cum. Hard. Like a toy. She had made him fill his singlet with his seed for almost a minute, and she laughed like it was the funniest thing she had ever seen. He could only moan, helplessly pinned down, coming to face his weakness

"Ohhh, poor baby~!" She laughed, her thighs continuing to pulse and rub over him, making his helpless cock twitch from the overstimulation, "You got me sooooo messy~" Then her voice took on a new, darker tone. "You'd best clean it up."

"Wh-what?" He asked, not really processing the phrase in his post-orgasmic haze.

"I said," she answered quickly, "Clean it UP!"

She moved like lightning, and before he could even really see what she was doing, she was already on top of him, settling on his face. His cum dripped down off her thighs, wetting his face with the messy liquid. Her legs closed tight on his skull, so tight he could hear the bone creak under the pressure of her pulsing thighs. He couldn't breathe under the silk stockings, especially not with his own cum dripping into his mouth. He gasped for it, but found himself trying to suck down silk and seed, shaking beneath her.

There was no air for him between her legs, nothing to breathe but the scent of her power and his failure. He could barely hear her talk, but her hold was just short of too tight for him to hear through the meat of her thighs.

"I told you to clean it up, Zigzag. That's more than once that you've made a milky mess on mommy's leg, and this time it's warm, too. You're a disgusting, weak little toyboy getting all excited like this from being defeated, and at the legs of your own mother, no less! To think, that my own son would be STAINING my STOCKINGS with CUM!" She gasped, and then her legs pulsed once more, repeatedly, like an earthquake, and he could only shake and shudder, thankful that, at least, if she kept this up, he would be out in no time.

She didn't have enough mercy for that, though. She controlled his breath, and not just by stopping it, either, but also by allowing him little slivers from time to time. She would release her thighs from his head just enough that he could breathe, and take the moment to shower him with degrading comments, before she wrapped her legs around him once more. It kept him week, squirming, panting deep for every bit of oxygen she was willing to provide him, and feeling as if his mind was gradually slipping away to a realm of pure humiliation. His body was weak, his arms limp, his heart beating helplessly in his chest. He felt controlled, completely and totally, gasping and his heart beating wildly under her. And to make matters worse, a certain part of him - That same part that had already humiliated him once and got him into this mess - Seemed to be starting to enjoy it. He could only hope that she didn't notice the physical response he was having to her dominance.

"Aww, still having trouble, ZigZag? You can't get out?" And then there was a pause, long enough for her to look back, and he bit his lip when he realized that the evidence of her complete and total dominance would be obvious, undeniable, even, at this point.

"Or is it 'off' that you want to get, honey?" She asked.

"No, I-" He started to give an answer, one not even he could be entirely sure where it was going, but that didn't matter anyway. She silenced his objections by settling herself on his face, squeezing her thighs closer to his head, muscles pressing in on the sides, crushing.

There were stars in his eyes, now, as he got close to fading. His lungs were completely empty, he tried desperately to suck down more air, but the emptier and more desperate his lungs got, the fuller and more eager his shaft got in response. It was a disturbing, humiliating dance as she pressed her body down against him, her thick musclebound thighs crushing the side of his head like steel plates, and his world fading down to nothingness. He would squirm and try to scream, but his body could barely send any energy to the muscles. Though he couldn't see his face, he was sure that by this point, it had flushed a deep purple.

Then, at the very last moment before he passed out, she would release him, and the air would rush back into his lungs once more. He would get the tiniest amounts of strength and sensation back in his body once she allowed him the breath, feel his lungs fill with air, his body with power... And then feel just how stiff his shaft had grown, and bite his lip, trying desperately to deal with the humiliation. Then just before he felt strong enough to try to push her off, she would clamp down once more. Three, four, five... Then after that he lost count, but time after time she would do this, nearly let him pass out, release, let him feel his own arousal, then crush down before he could fight back.

After what could have been the tenth time, could have been the hundreth, could have been the millionth for all he knew, it certainly felt like its, she released again.

"I have you now, little ZigZag. And it seems like I have both your heads under control, too~" She laughed.

"M-mom..." He whimpered.

"Hush, boy~" She cut him off, "I don't want to hear anything from a pervert who gets hard when his own mother crushes his head. You have a thing for thighs, is that it? Maybe you only got into wrestling 'cause you wanted this to happen?"

"Please st-"

She didn't let him finish, simply clamping down on him again. "Alright, little zigzag~" She laughed, "Time to finish up this little dance. Tell me you like it, and I'll end it~"

She pulled her hips back from him, giving him enough room to breathe. He couldn't bring himself to it, though, as horrible as it was. He had no more illusion about being able to beat her, at least not right now, but he couldn't make himself admit his weakness.

"SAY IT!" She growled, and he only whimpered.

"Looks like you need more, then!" She announced, and squeezed down again. His lungs, tortured for god-knows-how-long by her overpowering legs, had struggled to fill even halfway as he was whimpering. Soon he felt himself fading again, spots coming in front of his eyes, and his cock swelling out like a baseball bat in his singlet. She released him again, letting him breathe deep, comforting breaths.

"Alright, baby. You ready to admit it?"

He still couldn't, much as he wanted, much as he felt his cock pulsing as the precious oxygen brought back sensation to his body. She let him breathe for longer than before, if only by a half-second, before squeezing her thighs in on the side of his head again. This time, he had had just enough breath to get all the feeling back, and his cock twitched like it was on the edge of orgasm. The sensation crushed any last bit of pride he had had, and as soon as she released him once, more, he cried out "I ADMIT IT! YOU WIN MOM YOU WIN I LIKE IT!"

Or at least, he cried out part of that, but as soon as he got out the "I admit i-" part, she clamped down again, and harder than before. It was too late to try to deny it, or to salvage even a hint of pride. His cock put an end to any thought of that, as soon as she squeezed down that last time, one he knew she wouldn't let up on, he felt himself burst. The orgasm wasn't as hard on his body as the last, but it was far more destructive to his mind. He found himself squirming around, shaking, and his whole body breaking down in total submission. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he felt the cum splash onto his body, and the world slowly, helplessly fade out until even the sensations of her thighs were gone completely.

He wouldn't wake up for a while, but he felt the whole time like he was floating in a sea of bizarre pleasure, fear, arousal and dominance. When he did awake, he was still on the floor. She hadn't even done him the small favor of carrying him upstairs and putting him to bed. Instead she had left him helpless on the ground, marinating in his own juices in his stained singlet. He could barely even think about what had happened, how hard he'd lost... Hell, lost was even the right word for it, been completely destroyed and subjugated by his own mother. She had dominated him, he hated it... And his cock twinged like it was eager to pour out more seed at the thought of her mighty thighs. He whimpered, shivering like he had been dragged from freezing water. He couldn't face the world right now, the thought of what she had done to him. He didn't want to stand up and try to climb up the stairs to bed, he didn't even have the strength for that anymore. She had crushed him, totally, left him broken. With tears in his eyes, he lay his head back, and allowed himself to fall back asleep.

He woke up in bed, she had carried him there apparently, with an already prepared protein-shake on the bedside table. Beside it, folded half-closed, was a note. He dreaded the thought of opening it, but eventually he had to.

"I made this for you. You need to keep your strength up, we're going to have a rematch next Saturday,

XOXO,

Mama Badass"

Next Saturday. Something about the date gave him a jolt. Something important would happen then, but he just couldn't remember what. What was it. Something, someone, a visitor...

Oh no. Saturday was the home visit from the Stanford wrestling coach. And to make it worse, the whole weekend was a family reunion. He shuddered at the thought. Surely, she wouldn't...

But what he had learned in the last month was that surely she would. He whimpered, tears welled in his eyes... And his cock stained the sheets at the thought.