Crush Fiction

Tarantino: “Okay, people. ‘Crush Fiction,’ Scene 93. Aaaaaaaand ... ACTION!”

The extras around the fenced off fighters’ octagon cheer their approval as the stuntman and Sheena move together. 

She smiles at him and stares into his soul. He’s not crying or whimpering, but feeling the stare he’s so full of fear, it’s as if his body is imploding.

Sheena: "Jimmy, I do believe Marsellus Wallace, my husband, your boss, told you to take ME out and do whatever I wanted. Now I wanna fight and I want that winner’s trophy, so you better fight pretty damn good. And if you’re counting on surprising me, Jimmy, don’t count on it."

She hammers him like a nail, uppercutting the stuntman with a left and right, then swats away two quick jabs and ducks under a swift moving right hook. She then grabs his arm and spins around as fast as she could. She twists her body and lets go, flinging the man across the cage, his body hitting the canvas hard, tumbling, and then crashing into a turnbuckle. He yells in agony. The crowd roars.

She moves forward as he gets back to his feet, her strong thighs showing the strong muscles in them as she walks across the ring. She then pushes him hard on his chest with both hands, knocking the wobbly man back to the mat. 

Sheena: “There, that’s better.”

Then she pounces on him like a lioness. 

Yanking his head up from the canvas by his hair, she locks her legs around his skull. He’s helpless to stop the thighs closing in tighter around his neck, tighter, tighter, tighter. Sheena's expression glows with pleasure as Jimmy's crumples. She is on a high from beating the man in such a humiliating fashion.

As she twists his head in slow motion away from the searing floodlighting above, Jimmy’s vision is encircled by a mountain ridge of muscle that clearly dwarfs anything he had ever fantasied of.

Jimmy’s whole torso thrashes as the crowd roars, his limbs and head convulse with the pressure, his anguished senses assaulted by lightning bolts of pain and the spectators’ thunderstorm applause.

Jimmy, frantically trying to tap out on Sheena’s tensed marble thighs: “Oh, no no nnnoooooo, Christ, please, cut, Cut, CUT, she’s killing me!”

She opens her bear-trap quads. Jimmy rolls onto the mat, officially out and unconscious.

Tarantino: “Cuuuuuut! Dammit, Jimmy, you just ruined the whole scene. Okay, everybody, take five. Jimmy, have makeup wipe off those tears and get back on your mark fast. Great work as always, Sheena! Ready for another take?”

Sheena, clapping her hands together in excitement: “I can’t wait! Come on, Jimmy. Five minutes to showtime.”

With that Sheena picks up Jimmy like he was a sack of sand and flings his lifeless body on her shoulder. She then walks away, her hips swaying back and forth as she disappears off the set.

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3 Responses

  1. Great read that was very sexy
  2. Ray
    The imagery created in this contest is palpating! Frightening dominance ratcheted-up even higher with such feminine, athletic beauty!
  3. OMG! this scene! the visual recall. the bravada and pleasure that You exude as You wipe up the ring with whats left of poor jimmy. my heart is pounding and i'm in submissive overload! you are so much like a deadly, lethal spring recoiling and smashing through his compressed weakened body like concrete. poor wimpy overmatched Jimmy... doesn't stand a shadow of a chance, because You already dwarf his shadow with Yours.

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