The Pink Ch. 2

Eric looked down at the words he had just typed:

"I found what I think is the secret chemical equation in the pathogen. I am trying to think of a way to reverse it, but the idea seems to beyond my reach. What is haunting, is this nagging sense that I once was smart enough to do this, but that each passing day, the answer becomes more elusive."

Just below those words he saw the faint smile of a Cheshire cat appear. It had an evil grin on its face. Suddenly his juvenile encryption failed and the words vanished. He heard a number of giggles come from the other room. Then a voice:

"Perhaps Eric and Blayless would like to dance for us, ladies. Should I call him out here?"

Eric decided that he would beat her answer to the punchline. He strode out through the double doors of the den into the lavish living room. He had planned to confront them, but he felt an odd tremor shiver through him. The effect of the PINK was suddenly stronger than he had ever recalled it being, He looked at the women and grew very weak. He nearly collapsed when he saw the women standing in the room. She had flaming red hair and strutted about with great confidence. He nearly feinted when he realized that Cassandra, the Red was standing before him. Her ability at breaking even the strongest muppy was known through out the land.

Without thinking, he assented and before he could react she bent down and placed her big hands around his waist, her long, powerful fingers almost completely encircling his waist, and straightened, lifting him easily. She strode out the French patio doors to the pool and patio area and the entourage followed. Her long red hair flowed behind her like flames. Her green eyes glowed like emeralds. She tossed him in the water from the patio then dove in after him. While he was still dazed she swam underneath him and grabbed him from behind lifting him out of the water and then continued to lift him until she was holding him high in the air, almost at arms length above her head, but tilted forward so that she could have a full view of his little body. He was gasping for breath and struggling helplessly in her grasp, but she was more interested in another reaction of his body; the telltale bulge in his trunks of a throbbing erection.

She laughed and said, "You must like being picked up by girls," and, as he reddened with embarrassment, playfully tilted him forward and down so that she could plant a light kiss on the tip of his nose. Then, holding him at arm's length again, she said, "I wonder if you're ticklish. Most little fellas are. I adore little men who are ticklish--they're such fun to play with."

He started to protest, but she was already shifting her grip to that she could reach the sensitive areas of his ribs with her fore and middle fingers. As she began to tickle him, his body reacted with violent spasms of screaming laughter and giggling and he thrashed wildly about, ineffectually tearing at the probing fingers which were administering such delicious torture to his sensitive ribs. She laughed delightedly and continued to tickle him unmercifully, noticing, as she did so, that his erection was throbbing more than ever. Finally she stopped and examined him as he hung, limp from exhaustion, in her hands.

"Dollbaby," she told him, "you're perfect! I'm going to just love playing with your little body!" She lowered him until his eyes were just below her own and, bringing him to her, slid one big hand down his back to cup both his buttocks and mash his pulsating erection firmly against her hard, flat stomach. Her other hand reached up behind his back and grasped the back of his head. He gasped, "What...what are you doing?" She chuckled. "Can't you guess?" she asked.

"N-no!" he cried, and strained backward with all his might, struggling to move his head back away from her advancing mouth, but was unable to overcome her powerful, immobilizing grip on his head. He placed his hands against her shoulders and tried to push himself away from her, but the pressure of her forearm against his back was irresistible as she slowly and inexorably pressed him against her. In desperation he closed his mouth tightly, but a painful squeeze of his buttocks made him cry out and her lips captured his open mouth in a crushing French kiss.

Although he continued to struggle, his feet thrashing about helplessly in the water almost a foot off the bottom of the pool, she slowly increased the pressure of her forearm against his back until he was barely able to breathe, while her tongue hungrily probed his mouth. Finally he went limp in her arms, and she relaxed the pressure on his back and permitted his head to fall back away from her lips. He was conscious, and his mouth was open as he desperately gulped air into his tortured lungs.

Waiting until he had recovered his breath, she slid the hand holding his buttocks between his legs until his entire crotch was imprisoned in the firm grip of her big hand, her long, powerful fingers reaching out to capture and bend his throbbing erection, bringing a gasp of surprise and humiliation from his lips.

Lifting him until his shoulder was securely tucked under her armpit she carried him out of the pool and into the adjoining weight room. Although she was carrying his entire weight in the palm of a single hand, she showed no sign of any real effort.

Grinning down at him, she murmured, "I find most men get real docile when I carry them around like this." This comment was more directed at the ladies that followed her around than to Eric. He was still dazed, but realized he was the main act in her dog and pony show. Cassandra was known through out the region for her garden party training session. She took great pride in empowering other women by showing them how to break in a muppy.

The pill that Eric had taken to lessen the effects of the Pink was wearing off, but he still mustered enough rebellion to realize how wrong this was and tried to resist. A gentle squeeze of his testicles conveyed her meaning, and immediately quelled any thoughts of resistance in his mind.

In the weight room, she seated herself on a stool and placed him on her lap. He was openmouthed but speechless at this further demonstration of her incredible strength. He looked up at her--even sitting on her lap his eyes were still slightly below hers--his face a silent question. She chuckled and kisses him lightly on the nose. "Before we get serious," she told him,

"Cassandra's going to show her little doll baby a few more tricks. But first, in case he's thinking about trying to run away, Cassandra's going to take off his panties--I don't think he'll want to go traipsing around in public stark naked. Besides," she added, "it's about time we freed up that little dingus of yours." He was still too exhausted to offer more than a verbal protest as she lifted him off her lap with one arm and with her other hand slid his swimming trunks down over his knees and off, exposing a penis that, although respectable in size, was now completely limp.

"Hmmm," Cassandra murmured. "Well, at least you're big enough in the right places. I guess I must have been a little too rough on you in the pool. Not to worry, though. I know how to bring your little dingus back to attention when I'm ready for it." She continued to hold him on her lap, cradling him in her arms and playfully nuzzling him and fondling him, but being careful to permit him to rest until he had recovered his strength. She then set him on his feet and rose to her full height to tower over him. Red with embarrassment, he tried to cover his crotch with his hands, but Cassandra bent down, gripped him firmly by his buttocks with one big hand and turned him away from her, pointing him to a large barbell with four large weights on a short bar about a foot in length which was sitting on a mat several feet away.

Indicating the barbell with her other hand, she asked, "Think little lover cookie can bring that barbell over to Cassandra?"

He looked up at her in surprise, but responded to her gentle pressure on his buttocks and walked over to the barbell. Straddling the barbell with his feet, he reached down and tried to lift it, but was unable to budge it. With a puzzled look on his face, he tried again, this time straining with all his strength, with no more success than before. Finally he examined the weights and a look of frustration came over his face.

"My God," he blurted, "what are you trying to do to me? This thing weighs four hundred pounds! I can't lift half that much!" a startling thought whispered in his mind that he could not lift that much even before the effects of the Pink.

Cassandra feigned amused surprise. "You can't lift that little thing? And here I thought men were supposed to be the stronger sex! Why, half the girls I know wouldn't have any trouble at all getting that off the ground."

Eric gave her a disgusted look. "Don't be ridiculous!" he snapped. "I don't know what you're trying to prove, but the only reason you or any other woman can display such strength is. . ." Eric tried to lower his anger and not reveal just how much he knew about the Pink conspiracy.

Cassandra arched one eyebrow at him curiously and he remained silent.

The women watching the show grew silent and stared at him.

Eric stammered and muttered trying to cover his gaffe. ". . .well, there isn't one girl in a million who could lift that much weight."

She laughed, walked casually over to him and eased him to one side. "Well, then," she told him, "I guess I'm that one girl in a million." Smiling down at him, she reached down and grasped the barbell in the center with a single hand and with a mighty heave lifted it straight up above her head, the massive muscles of her arm and stomach tensed and bulging from the effort. Slowly she lowered the barbell to her shoulder and then heaved it up over her head again, repeating the maneuver several times. Then she lowered it to the mat, stepped over it and repeated the exercise with her other arm. "I like to equalize my workouts," she explained. "I don't want one arm too much stronger than the other."

Eric was aghast and, for the first time, really frightened, and his face showed it. "My God," he thought, "this girl can lift more than twice as much with one hand as I can with two! She's 4-5 times stronger than I am! She could crush me by accident without even meaning to! I've got to get out of here before she kills me!" His body betrayed his mind and he started to tremble and, forgetting his nakedness, he put his hands up defensively and backed away from her. Cassandra saw his sudden fear with satisfaction--that was exactly the reaction she had been seeking--contorted her lovely face into an animalistic snarl, hunched and bulged her massive shoulder muscles, flexed her mighty biceps and, rising to her toes, her huge thighs and calves, and tensed her stomach muscles so they stood out in bold relief.

The effect was awesome; she was a towering mass of incredible muscularity. The effect on Eric was equally devastating; he cowered in abject terror, stumbling backward as she slowly advanced toward him. Small growling sounds came from her throat as she moved forward. Eric desperately looked around for a way out, but she slowly maneuvered him into a corner of the room. He spied a large, Halogen lamp to his right, reached down and gripping it with both hands tried to lift it. It was almost too heavy for him, but with a strength borne of desperation and terror he finally managed to get it off the floor and swing it clumsily at her. She caught it easily with one hand and, with a casual twist of her wrist, tore it from his grasp, flipping it up end over end and catching it expertly and then contemptuously tossing it aside. She resumed her advance on him. He was now hopelessly trapped in a corner.

Stopping directly in front of him and standing on her toes, she loomed over a foot above him.

Desperation generated bravado, and Eric put up two small fists and stammered, "G-get away from me! Get away from me or I-I'll hit you!"

The women who had slid into the room to watch giggled. Lady Shann watched quietly from the wall she was leaning on over at the other side of the room.

Cassandra relaxed her menacing pose and almost laughed outright. She brushed her red locks from her face and put her hands on her curvaceous hips and smiled. Looking down at him with unconcealed amusement, she said, "Go ahead, little man. Give it your best shot. I won't stop you. I could very easily, but I won't." She even stooped slightly so that he could reach her chin more easily.

Instead, he brought his fist back and smashed it with all his strength into her midriff, just below her navel. It was like hitting hard rubber; his small fist didn't so much as dent her rock hard stomach muscles, nor did it have any apparent effect on her as she continued to smile down at him. His face disintegrated into hopeless terror as he realized that he was incapable of hurting her. Tiny mewing and whining sounds came from his throat as she slowly and deliberately bent down and put out a huge hand, palm up, toward his groin. Realizing what she was about to do, he grabbed her wrist with both hands, but was unable to so much as slow her advance as again she captured his crotch in her hand, her long fingers curling up almost to his buttocks her thumb hooked securely around his limp penis, his testicles again securely encased in her palm.

"D-don't...p-please don't" he begged her, but she was already lifting him effortlessly off the floor, her free hand holding the back of his neck for balance as she tilted him backward and slowly brought his open mouth up to hers for another, crushing French kiss. To Eric, the sensation of being held in midair in the palm of this beautiful teenage giantess while her hungry mouth relentlessly sucked his dry was too much.

The women smiled and talked rapidly among themselves watching as Cassandra put on quite a show. One of them began stroking Blayless absently. He stared on as if he were a powerless eunuch, indifferent to the plight of his friend. He was held firmly in place by the power of the PINK.

It was as though a screw was being turned in his loins, changing him forever into something different than he was before. He suddenly realized that he LIKED what she was doing to him. Without realizing it, his body went lax in her hands, his back arching to the pressure of her kiss, his arms rising to slip around her neck as he unconsciously surrendered himself to her. His reaction did not go unnoticed. With a low, triumphant chuckle, her lips released his, and, still holding his weight in the palm of one hand which firmly encased his crotch--and his now throbbing penis which was straining against the restraint of her hand to come erect--she carried him to a heavy mat in the middle of the weight room. "One might say, lover, that I have you well in hand," she laughed.

The other women smiled and chuckled. Lady Shann remained impassive.

"And if you think you like this, wait until you see what I'm going to do to you next! But first, I think I'm going to have to teach you a little lesson for trying to hit me with that lamp."

Cassandra brushed her flaming red hair back and then grabbed a hold of him yet again. She set him on his feet and then proceeded to put him through a series of wrestling holds, beginning with a bear hug lift off the floor with just enough pressure to show him how easily she could crush his chest, followed by a headlock and then a full nelson, after which she lifted him onto her broad shoulders for a dizzying airplane spin. He was as helpless as a rag doll in her hands and he knew it. He offered no resistance as she slid him off her shoulders and, holding him upside down with his face held tightly against her, down her body until his face was buried in her crotch, held securely in place by the pressure of her thighs. Holding him there for only a few seconds, she told him, "This is one way you can give me a thrill, lover, but I've got lots of others, and you're going to learn them all!"

The women seemed to lean in and take notes as they watched Cassandra break Eric. They smiled and nodded as she demonstrated how easy it was to make a wild stallion into a gelding. Several of the women passed Blayless around so that they could practice the techniques. Lady Shann continued to stare at the scene impassively.

Cassandra took him down to the mat, shifting her thighs into a head scissors and then working her legs down to his waist to encase him in a body scissors, applying just enough pressure to demonstrate the futility of resistance. Finally, when she had him completely exhausted, she put him on his back, encased both his wrists in the powerful grip of her right hand and, holding his arms fully extended above his head, settled down on one hip beside him, trapping his legs between the massive muscularity of her mighty thighs. Held in this way, he was unable to do more than wiggle helplessly in her grip, while her left hand was free to explore his naked body at will.

She chuckled as, after a few momentary struggles, he relaxed. Cupping his chin with her left hand, she forced him to look up at her. "That's right, lover," she said approvingly, "you're finally learning how silly it is to try to resist me, that I can do anything I want to with your soft little body. Now you're about to learn something else--namely, that I can make your soft little body do just about anything I want it to."

Cassandra smiled down at him and tossed her red tresses over her shoulder triumphantly. Her green eyes flashed like the fire of goblins.

He looked up at her, frightened, and then began to buck and squirm, laughing and giggling uncontrollably as her free hand began to travel over his body, her fingers lightly tickling his armpit and then running deliciously down his side and over to his stomach. For what seemed an eternity she toyed with him, first tickling him, then subjecting him to mild discomfort by squeezing a buttock or a nipple on his chest and then arousing him by fondling him intimately, gently massaging his testicles and his inner thighs and finally his penis itself, only to resume tickling and carry him through cycle once again. His body was her personal playground, reacting exactly as she wished to the delicious torture she was inflicting on him. Finally, she leaned down to engulf his mouth with her own in a crushing French kiss, as she whispered,

"Time to get down to business, lover."

His eyes widened with horror as she took his penis firmly in her free hand and began to masturbate him, and he gasped, "N--no, please, not that!" But she gave a low chuckle and continued to massage him, and his whining protests became moans of excitement as she brought him to the brink of orgasm before gripping his penis tightly and pressing her thumb down over its tip to prevent him from climaxing. The desire ebbed from his loins, his penis went limp in her hand, and his moans became a sob of disappointment, and then a gasp of amazement as she resumed massaging him to bring the pangs of desire flooding back through his body.

"Wha--what are you doing to me?" he sobbed.

She leaned over him and began to nibble on his ear and neck as she continued to work his penis with her free hand, murmuring, "Can't you guess? But don't worry, baby, when I finally do let you come, it'll be the best you've ever had."

Her words hit him like a blow to his stomach. When she let him come...She was not only getting ready to rape him, but she was showing him and the women in the room how easily she could control his body in the process. And then his mind was submerged in desire as she again brought him to the brink of rapture only to shut him down again.

By this time the tears were running down his cheeks and he was crying like a baby, "N--no, please! Don't do this to me!" But she was already masturbating him again, this time bringing him quickly to full arousal before slipping out of her leather outfit and settling over him, the soft folds of her womanhood enveloping his penis as she took him inside her.