Monday, February 6, 2006

Duncan vs Kirsty - The Screwdriver Bow

by duncan s

As I started to lose consciousness I tried to recall how I had managed to get into this deadly hold, known as the Screwdriver Bow.

Minutes ago I held Kirsty, a buxom blonde wrestler wearing a one piece thong leotard that was next to transparent, in a lady-taming cunt stretch. Having wrestled her to the mat on her back, I stood holding one of her smooth skinned legs against my hip, lifting her butt off the mat. I gripped that leg tightly and placed the ball of my foot against her thrusting pubic mound. My leg bent I started to straighten it. She moaned as the pressure on her mound increased. Then I dropped back to the mats, the pressure suddenly maxing her out. She scream and slapped the mats but I would not let go, gasping as I pressed harder.

Amazingly she did not submit. The pain must have been overwhelming but it just seemed to fuel her. She pushed herself up on her elbows, then her hands, then gripped my ankle and with incredible strength of mind pulled my foot our from between her legs. I tried to reapply the hold but within seconds I was turned onto my front by the same foot that I used to grind her vagina.

I slapped the mats as she turned the hold around. She had not let go of my foot and she was bending my leg back, towards my head, bowing my back painfully. I lifted my head and saw that she had shuffled around to my head, pulling my leg back over my body, arching my back into a ‘C’. A foolish thought on my part as she immediately grabbed my head by the scruff of the hair, holding me in tension whilst she brought her legs forward so that she was sitting on her butt, her legs spread in a V either side of me.

I felt her thighs close around my head, muffling the sounds of her gasps as she pulled me into the position. I pictured the position: face down in her crotch, my leg bent back over my body. My hands clawed at her legs - with each squeeze I spasmed and slapped at them uselessly....

With her other hand she reached down my trunks and grasped my already erect cock. I begged, through muffled moans, for her not to continue. I slapped the mats in submission, which she did not accept. Her hand roughly worked my cock like she was milking a cow, each yank seemed to bury my head deeper within her thighs and crotch, each thrust seemed to bend my back further. The Screwdriver Bow.

The last thing I remember is the barest of touches of her breasts against my back, and my ensuing orgasm. The convulsion was enough to take my last gasp and my back spasmed me into unconsciousness, my hand still trying to tap out against her rippling thighs.


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