Moving Day

This a custom story requested by a customer of a certain publisher I need not name. Suffice it to say, they publish primarily illustrated stories of various subgenres of femdom erotica. The particular subgenre of this story is known as "Lift & Carry", wherein a woman carries a guy around, basically. And that's pretty much it. Hoooo, real exciting stuff. But it's the most recent thing I've written and actually finished (and I got paid for it) so here it is. Critique it until my eyeballs bleed.

MOVING DAY





Jim Gallagher drew an already-damp bandana across his forehead. "Damn," he muttered; a recently transplanted Chicago native, his first summer in Arizona was not being kind to the tall, heavyset newcomer.
“How’s it coming, Jim?” Jeanne’s voice floated out to him from the dining room just as the rumble of a diesel engine drew his attention to the DHL truck slowing in front of his driveway.
“Last truckload of stuff is here.” He called back. “Probably the living room. You think those girly muscles of yours can handle goin’ halfsies on the entertainment center? I don’t want to have to shell out an extra $75 just to get these jerks to bang up our furniture!”
“Oh, gee, I don’t know, Jim…” his sister-in-law cooed, shaking a wayward stream of auburn curls out of her eyes as she stepped into the harsh afternoon sun. “I’m not a big studly ex football star like you. What happens if the entertainment center tries to run off with the remote control? I’ve never tackled an entertainment center before.” Herself a long-time Arizona desert-rat, Jeanne’s long, supple limbs showed not a bead of sweat despite the triple-digit temperature.
Jim tried not to notice his sister-in-law’s rather minimalist attire, but found his eyes – and mind – inexorably dragged back to it in defiance of his better judgement.
All five foot ten of her was richly tanned. Emerald eyes sparkled with, it seemed to Jim, a perpetual, barely-contained mischief. Her notably-Irish features reminded him faintly of the actress, whose name he could not immediately recall, who had played opposite John Wayne in not a few films.
Her arms were well-turned and solid, but not what you would think of as muscular, at a glance. The deep tan of her skin contrasted sharply with the pristine white of her tank top. Jim wondered if she was uncomfortable in the thing – it looked to be at least a size too small for her… not that he was complaining. It showed off her full, firm breasts so well that –
“Hey! The hell do you think you’re doing?” She glared at him. A deep crimson flushed his cheeks.
“I was just trying to read what it says on your shirt.” he lied instantly, barely catching a glimpse of a line of script just above the fabric stretched across her bust.
“Uh huh.” She punched him in the arm – hard. “Then why are you blushing?”
Jim winced, rubbed his bicep – God damn, that hurt! – then helped the smirking delivery guy lower the coffee table gently to the ground, thinking furiously. “Well, because… you know… I know what it must’ve looked like…”
“Oh.” Jeanne grinned sheepishly. “Okay, that could happen. You’re okay.”
“C’mon, let’s get this out of the way.” Jim watched Jeanne’s long, rather muscular legs as she came around to the other side of the table, then almost gasped aloud; as she lifted the table with him, her long thighs flexed, pressing her large, powerful quadriceps into striated relief against her perfect skin. He continued to watch them with a mixture of fascination, arousal and dread as they moved the table onto the lawn.

Either she didn’t notice this time… or she just didn’t say anything. Jim prayed it was the former. It wasn’t so much that he was afraid of his sister-in-law – so she was a big woman, she was still just a woman – he was more worried about what Holly might do if she knew he had been ogling another woman, and her own sister at that.
The two of them unloaded end tables, couch, table lamps, television, stereo, home theatre system, bookshelf and boxed books in silence.
“Last one’s the big one.” Jim announced, hoping he wasn’t already in a world of trouble. He walked up the truck’s ramp, doing his best to ignore the feeling of Jeanne’s eyes on his back from just behind him.
He unfastened the straps that held the entertainment center in place, wincing as Jeanne sashayed to the opposite wall of the truck and, directly in front of him, bent low to pull something from the floor of the truck, her appallingly short cutoffs riding dangerously high up her fantastic ass, the sweep of her sculpted thighs visible even from this angle, the long, hard diamonds of her calves in stark relief.

It occurred to Jim, in a detached sort of way, that she couldn’t possibly be wearing any panties. He felt the screwdriver he’d been holding slip from his nerveless fingers, clatter on the metal floor.
This time, she didn’t even have to look to know that he’d been staring. She chuckled, a low and dangerous sound, but still said nothing.
“Aherrgh. Arraugh.” Jim tried, then realized that hadn’t come out right. “Ah, let’s get this in outta here so we can get all this stuff in the house.” He shook his head, then ran a bare forearm over his face to try to drain off some of the sweat – not much of which had anything to do with the desert sun anymore. It didn’t even half work.
“Whatever you say.” Jeanne chuckled, and turned to take hold of the bottom edge of the 200+ lbs of wood, steel and glass. Jim found himself fervently wishing that she would handle his wood – he shook his head again. He was a happily married man, dammit! And this was his sister-in-law!
They lifted together, and Jim realized with amazement that Jeanne wasn’t the least bit fazed by the weight. “Come on, little boy,” she teased, “what are you waiting for?”
“Jesus, Jeanne, this thing’s heavy, are you sure you–“
“Quit your belly-aching.” she teased. “Let’s get this over with, so I can figure out where all this stuff needs to be set up.”
All the way into the living room, Jim marveled at the unexpected ease with which the young woman handled the solid weight. He didn’t have to slow down for her, any more than he would expect to have to for a man his own size. And every now and then, a brief flash of chiseled thigh – a small moan of exertion that sounded so much like a moan of pleasure – a… he realized with sudden panic that his khakis were tented by a stiffening erection, more than noticeably.
The couch was only a few feet away when they set the entertainment center down in the middle of the living room – he leapt at it like a thirsty man at a glass of purest water, yelling, “Banzai!” and laughing as he hit the cushions on his stomach.
“Hey!” she scolded, “Get up, you big lummox, we’re not done yet!” Her hands on her hips, she looked almost like his mother. That helped reduce the swelling a little.
He stalled another few seconds, then pulled the couch back a few feet – looked good to him. Taking his X-Acto knife from his pocket, he set to work slicing the tape from the box containing the television.
“Whoa, hold on there, stud-boy.” Jeanne chided. “We have to figure out where we want this.”
He looked up from his work; everything looked fine to him. “What? It’s good.”
“No, no, no, no, no.” she shook her head. “It doesn’t look right. Help me move this over. Just a few feet to the left.”
“Nuh uh.” he shook his head, his voice firm. “I’m not doin’ the “a few feet” game. I’m hot, and I’m tired, and it’s good where it is.”
Jeanne pouted, crossed her arms over her ample breasts. “Fine. Maybe you’re right.”
“Thank you.” Jim turned his eyes back to his work. “Let’s just get the TV set-“
A pair of slim, powerful arms encircled his waist, crushing the air from his lungs; he lost his grip on the X-Acto as he squeaked, “Up?”
“I think you’re right, Jim.” Jeanne purred in his ear. “Maybe it’s not the furniture that’s out of place… maybe it’s you.” Her arms constricted tighter still as she hoisted him higher, bracing his butt against her hip, then quickly sliding one arm up his back and the other under his knees, hoisting him higher into the air. “Let’s see if we can’t find a better spot for you, hmm?”
“Hey! Put me down!”
“Ohhhhh, Jim…” she breathed down at him. “What’s the matter? Are you scared my little girly muscles might give out?” She slowly extended her forearms… slowly… slowly… until she held his 200+ pound bulk at nearly arms length. “Not gonna happen, little boy. I’m not going to drop you – and I’m not going to put you down, either, not until I’m sure I’ve found the perfect spot.”
“What the-?” He was stunned, and more than a little aroused. Here was this gorgeous woman holding him in her arms as if he were nothing more than a sack of groceries. And that look in her eye told him that she knew. She knew what she was doing to him.
This was wrong. He had to put a stop to this. If Holly came home and found them like this… well, he didn’t even want to contemplate what would happen.
“Put me down, Jeanne.” it was practically an order this time, the same tone he used with the junior partners at the law office. “Right now.” She stopped – it worked! First time she’d listened to him, ever.
Or maybe not.
“Okay, Jim.” Her voice was dark, with a hint of that mischief that was always in her eyes. He felt the floor under his feet, started to back away – but in one fluid motion, she wrapped those long, defined arms around his chest again, and continued her descent to the thick living room carpet, dragging him down with her.
Then he felt those insanely long legs rise alongside his ribs until his armpits stopped them, felt them close around him, engulfing his entire rib cage. He hadn’t realized just how truly packed with muscle her thighs were until they were pressing against his sides.
By the time the panic set in, it was too late. Far too late. He felt her thighs shift slightly, heard the slap of leather sneaker on leather sneaker as her ankles locked behind him, and then his breath shot out of his lungs like a cannonball under sudden, excruciating pressure.
“Mmmmmmm.” she smiled up at him just before his eyes and jaw clenched against the unbearable pressure. He felt his ribs bending more and more in the warm embrace of her inhumanly strong thighs, until they could flex no further. He was astonished at the sounds escaping his throat – gasps, grunts, choked shrieks. He had no control at all over himself, much less her.
“You know I could break you, Jim.” She purred in his ear, caressing his face like a lover. “I could probably break every bone in your chest. That okay with you, Jim? Yes or no? You want me to let go? Just say the word. Go ahead… any time now… no? Okay, then.”
He couldn’t get enough breath now to say, “Boo!” and she knew it. As darkness and dizziness seized his brain, he reached back and flailed one weakened hand at her ankles, only half aware that he’d never be able to break out of his sister-in–law’s grinding thighs. She moaned again, this time running her delicate pink tongue across her lips.
The last thing he felt before he felt nothing was the press of his trousers against his throbbing member.

“Ugh!” he grunted. The dizziness hadn’t faded – actually, it had gotten worse. It took him almost 5 full seconds to realize that that was because he was upside-down, and bouncing. He shook his head, only to find it bounced into a solid, rounded butt-cheek.
“Oh, you’re back!” Jeanne chirped, and tightened her grip on his legs as his face bounced off her shapely, cutoff-clad butt again. “How was your trip?” she laughed lightly, then her voice darkened again. “You should know better than to argue with any of us Gordon women by now, Jimmy. We always do what we say we’ll do. And didn’t I say we’re going to find the perfect spot for you?”
He didn’t bother answering her – he was sucking in huge lungfuls of air, despite the raging pain in his ribs and sternum. With a free hand, he pressed a few ribs gently.
“Oh, stop it, you big baby!” Jeanne chided, not even having to look to see what he was doing. “I didn’t break any. But, ahhh…” she smiled behind him. “Holly just might, if she finds out your sister-in-law made you cum in your pants.” She giggled.
“Oh, God.” he could feel the sticky wetness himself, now that she’d drawn his attention to it. “Oh, God, no.”
“So I think the perfect place for you right now is the shower.” She bounced her ass into his face again, this time deliberately, and hard. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes!” Jim exclaimed, almost pleadingly. “I’ll get in there right now, just put me down!” He could feel his face burning with the flush of embarrassment and shame.
“Too late, we’re already here.”
His world spun as she reeled in his legs, set him on his feet. He nearly didn’t catch his balance in time, and shot an arm behind him to brace himself against the wall.
“Now strip.”
His eyes widened. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “What?”
“Did I stutter?” she jutted her chin at him, daring.
“Well… no.” He backed away from her.
“Then you heard me.” She rested her slim hands on her full hips, then stuck one pumped thigh out, flexed it, the huge muscles of her quad and adductor springing into stark definition. “Or do you want more of this?”
“But… no, but…” he tried backing away further still. There was nowhere left to go except into the master bath, and beyond that…
“Do it now, James.” she closed the distance, slowly, then pinned him to the wall with a single outstretched arm; he struggled for a moment before he noticed that she’d set one of those solid legs behind her. His beautiful, frighteningly strong sister-in-law had pinned him, as helpless as a small child, and he was suddenly very afraid.
He peeled off his shirt first, then once she’d released him, his khakis. Mercifully, she only smiled and left him to shower in peace. When he peeked around the corner of the door 10 minutes later, there was a towel, a pair of utility shorts, his sandals and a Gold’s Gym t-shirt waiting.
He couldn’t hear her. She was nowhere in sight. He sighed, relieved, and stepped into the shorts, shrugged on the t-shirt.
Then she struck – one of her sinewy calves snaked around his – an arm around his shoulders, another pushing him back, then it was under his legs, and the floor dropped away for the second time.
She’d been in the corner of the room. Watching him. Ever since he’d stepped out of the shower. He groaned.
“Now are you going to be a good boy this time?” she asked pleasantly.
“Yes.” he murmured.
“Sorry, what was that?” Her eyes twinkled only inches from his; her lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “I couldn’t quite hear you, little man. Are you going to be a good boy? Or do I need to give you another taste of the Gordon Family Secret?”
“I’ll… yes.” he said, this time more clearly.
“Yes what?” she slowly brought her arms together, her breasts pressing against his tender ribs, his back already beginning to ache from the strain.
“I’ll be a good boy!” he cried, evoking a low, guttural moan from his beautiful captor.
“Oh, God,” she sighed, “now that’s what I love to hear!”
The front door was in front of them. “What are you doing?” Jim demanded. “No! You can’t–“
“Can’t what?” Jeanne cut him off harshly. “Can’t what? I already showed you what I can do, little man.” Jim found himself laughing, despite the pain and embarrassment. He couldn’t help it. Here he was, a man of better than six feet and two hundred pounds, and this woman kept calling him “little” – then his ribs got his attention again, and he wasn’t laughing anymore.
“I’m thinking,” she continued, “that maybe the best place for you is out in the front yard.” He began to struggle, hard, but she held him tight against her, her hot breath cascading across his cheek, the slightest of moans escaping her full, crimson lips. “Maybe,” she whispered huskily, “we should get the neighbors’ opinions. An outside perspective, what do you think?”
He struggled harder, giving it everything he had. She crushed him brutally hard to her, biting his earlobe, licking it, sighing into his ear. He felt his cock stiffen again, bewilderingly, but could no longer budge even a centimeter.
She giggled again as she swung the front door wide, carrying him over the threshold in what must have looked like a very backward version of the passage of a pair of young newlyweds.
“Or maybe we should ask your wife.” Her delicate eyebrows arched in a smile of wicked delight. The blood drained from his face, and a pit of ice formed in his stomach. He turned his face into her taut shoulder, and felt as if he were about to cry.
“Hey, sis!” Holly’s voice was light and cheerful. “Everything moved in?”
He heard the driver’s side door of her Sentra slam. She must not have seen them yet, he decided. The screaming would start, any minute now. He would lose her. He would lose the house. He would lose… everything. And he couldn’t have stopped it, any of it. He was going to lose it all, and it wasn’t his fault! He felt his throat hitch, fought the urge to weep.
“Almost everything!” Jeanne chuckled. “I just can’t seem to find the right spot for this, though!”
He could hear the click of Holly’s heels on the concrete walk. He could even smell her perfume now, that new brand he just couldn’t recall the name of. It was over. It was all over. All gone. He felt a small tear break free and begin to trickle hotly down his cheek.
“Oh, that.” His wife’s voice was right behind him now. “Let me show you where that goes. Here, hand it over.” What – ?
He was jolted by a pair of long, slender arms wrapping themselves under and around his thighs, his back, and the all-too-familiar arms that had held him prisoner suddenly dropping away.
What the – ?
He turned, and looked into the eyes of his beloved, his beautiful, his darling wife. And he was too confused for words.
“Hi, honey!” She smiled broadly back at his perplexed expression. Her long blonde hair bounced in a girlish ponytail as she carried him easily back to the front door, all 5 foot 8 of her limned with muscle he’d never seen her use before, never like this, anyway.
When they reached the door, Jeanne held it open for her sister. “I think he got to do it last time, didn’t he, sis?” Jeanne grinned.
“Mmm-hmm.” Holly nodded. “I do believe it’s my turn. I’ll bet you never guessed I’d be doing the “across the threshold” thing this time around, did you, baby?” She asked, giving Jim a sweet little peck on the lips.
“Well… no.” his voice made his utter bafflement unmistakable.
“Well, I thought it was time the secret came out.” She smiled as she easily sauntered inside. “Oh, and speaking of secrets…”
Oh, Christ, Jim thought. This is it. His face fell.
“You’re mine. You know that, don’t you, baby?”
Jim nodded, mute and ashamed.
“But Jeanne gets to play with you. So I guess it’s really more like you’re ours.”
Jim’s jaw dropped. “What?”
Holly turned to her sister, cocked an eyebrow. “He made you put the legs to him, didn’t he.”
“Ohhh, yes, he did.” Jeanne rolled her eyes back in her head, biting her lip and smiling, her thighs flexing terrifyingly in memory of their recent playtime.
“You don’t want me to let her do that again, do you, Jim.” Holly whispered. It was a statement, not a question. “She might not stop in time… next time.” She noted with satisfaction the brief flash of fear and compliance that crossed his face. “Now!” she continued brightly, “The perfect place for you!”
He looked nervously ahead, trying to discover where his wife was taking him, and whether they were being followed. Then it hit him, and his mouth curled into a little smile.
The king-sized bed had always seemed to him to be too large for just two people – now, as his loving, beautiful wife laid him gently down on the sheets, and his gorgeous sister-in-law quietly shut the bedroom door, he realized why she’d insisted on it.

^^Care to elaborate?

No

This seems...familiar..

How so?

Nevermind, I was wrong.

There are some messed up people in the world and you are giving them something to jack-off to.

Good lord.

I can see the real-life experiences you are drawing from though..lol. Knowing you, I get the feeling you were lost as to how to write for such an odd fetish so just focused on the strong legs/pain/strong woman aspects you yourself enjoy.

It's a well written piece for the genre which is traditionally full of cliches and bizarre descriptions and characterizations. Yours has just enough of that to fit in but makes more coherent sense than many erotic fetish stories.

Not my cup of tea by any stretch but not too bad anyway.

That said.

What the f*** is so thrilling about carrying people around?

Thanks, and... hell if I know. But, you know... have keyboard, will travel.