Battle of the BBWs (FFF/M+)

[ZTVFemdomtales]

Part 1: Competition

Every city is known for something. For Carterville it was the fact it had more male strip clubs per capita than any other city in the world. It was also a low crime zone, which meant the number of cops out on the street at any given time would also be low. The clubs themselves would also be overconfident. Security would not be an issue. It was a city ripe for picking.

It had started as a joke between the three friends. They could just roll into town in a white van, load up some strippers, and just drive away before anyone knew what hit them. Over the next couple of months, the playful little scenario evolved. Freya, found a guy online who would make them as many kidnapper vans as they wanted if the blonde BBW sat on his face with her giant ass.

Kari knew a boy who owned a little bondage shop in a failing mall. He was madly in love with the black BBW. He felt her giant ass and equally massive chest were the total package. He would offer her practically his entire inventory if she would be his dom.

Briar was dating a boy who’d just inherited a nice sized farm outside of town. He could care less what was done with it. All he cared about was sucking her gothicc mommy milkers. It soon became clear this was no longer a joke. They were going to do it.

The three decided to make it even more interesting. Freya’s seat cushion made them three vans. One each. They could hold up to seven prisoners each. Let the BBW with the fullest van at sunrise win.

Part 2: Pressure

Freya inspected the vans. They were perfect. Each had shackles attached to the base of the passenger’s seat and hanging off the back. Behind that were two rows of bench seats that could hold three each. Shackles were bolted to the floor for the feet. Adjustable bondage straps were built into the backs. Shackles for the hands were situated on the seats between where the men’s knees would part.

Al stood smiling at his handiwork. The boy had done good.

“I want you naked on your bed in three seconds,” she commanded.

He sprinted back into the garage where he worked and lived. She followed slowly, stopping off to grab some of his supplies. When she got upstairs to the little one-room apartment he was waiting. She kicked off her shoes and pulled off her pants. He was rigid as a rod and smiling like the idiot he was.

“Ready?”

“Yes!”

She climbed onto the bed, spun around and gently lowered her ass onto his face. Once she had him where she wanted him, and only then, she pressed down. Just a little bit at first. Then harder. Harder. Harder still. She let the pressure build on his face. On his nose. She made sure the air stayed in. She let the pressure build as he struggled to breathe. She felt his strength being pressed out of him. Just a few more seconds. There. She stood. He took a deep breath. He was a puddle. He was also delighted. She took the shackles she grabbed from downstairs and secured him to the bed.

“I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon to take you to your new home.”

“What?”

“You’re part of a mass kidnapping plot. Can’t have you spilling the beans. I’m just gonna have to keep you.”


The sun set over Carterville as the three plain white vans drove into town. The contest was on. Freya pulled into the alley behind The Honey Trap. She adjusted her costume. She adored her shoes with pink kitten heel shoes. A gold bikini covered by a tiny poodle skirt and tiny white 50s style top and ascot. Black rimmed prop glasses completed the look. Well, those and the bun. She crept in through the back door and made her way backstage.

She waited for the next beefcake to take the stage. Once his routine was underway, she took the stage too. The crowd went wild. She took his hand and began dancing with him around the pole.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Your new owner.”

As they danced, she made sure to press him against the pole with her ass. She also made sure to keep his pole between her cheeks as she did. Slowly she started her own striptease. When she was down to her bikini, which happened to match his outfit, or lack thereof, she gave him a gentle trip. She fell onto his ass as hers covered his face. She began to press.

The crowd loved it. They didn’t care no one was dancing. They were too busy enjoying her pressing his face. Her pressing the air back down into his lungs. Pressing the thoughts out of his head. Once he was good and ready she pulled away. She scooped him up, tossed him onto her shoulder and sauntered off stage. It would be hours before they realized she had carried him out the back door. That she shackled him into the passenger’s seat. That she ball-gagged him and drove off into the night.

Part 3: Hidden

Gregory closed the shop for the day. He sighed. He didn’t know why he even bothered anymore. It wasn’t like anyone in this god-fearing town was going to buy his stuff. He shook his head and set about cleaning up. He had just reached the changing rooms in the back when he heard a rustling from within.

“Is someone there?”

He stepped closer to the door.

“Hello?”

A massive black woman jumped out and grabbed him up in a powerful hug. He instinctively melted into her arms.

“Kari!”

“There’s my little pet.”

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“It’s fun.”

After one more giant hug she dropped him back onto his feet.

“Box it up.”

“What?”

“Box it all up.”

“Kari, what are you…?”

“We had a deal. I’m taking your inventory for the trip.”

“Does that mean…?”

“Yep, when I get home, I’m kidnapping you.”


***


Cognac Bay was a small club. It was out of the way and unnoticeable. That’s just what Kari was counting on. She had studied the routine. She knew how this place operated down to the last detail. This little club was going to help her win the competition.

The dressing room was right next to the bathroom. That made it all too easy to slip in. Well, that and the fact it was never locked. Why would it be? Where would the strippers keep the key? An old chest sat by the door. An old chest she had delivered there. She lifted the lid and climbed inside. All she would have to do now was wait.