Giving the body scissors a new twist

"Squeeze her flat!"

"Body Scissors!"

"Put her through the wringer!"

These taunts and many more continued to pelt Texas. She attempted to struggle away from Zafta's tight thigh vice. She couldn't get her legs to budge a centimeter. In fact, the only visible sign that she was struggling was her head thrashing back and forth. The rest of her body was locked down. Zafta lightly flexed her thighs. Well, lightly by her standards. For Texas, the small movement was nearly enough to turn her into a tattoo. In the end, all her struggles managed to do was cover her face in the giraffe's sweat.

Zafta turned to Texas. "Well, you heard 'em. You got to give what the crowd wants."

Despite the monstrous pressure being **** upon her squishy body, the former sheriff managed to gasp out some pleas. "No, please. Mercy."

Her **** pleads didn't faze Zafta in the slightest. She still had a smile on her face, in fact. "Sorry, but first and foremost, I'm a performer, and a good one at that, so I got to give the crowd their money's worth."

Without a second of hesitation, she crossed her legs and flexed her thighs with all her might. Texas would have screamed if she could have. The legs holding her captive bulged as Zafta's muscles did their work, squashing her head too. Now, her entire body was entombed between her godly thighs. Unfourtunily for her, it was only the beginning. Zafta closed her eyes and the tip of her tongue poked out from her lips as he concentrated on the former sheriff between her thighs. She could barely feel her. In fact, the only way she could tell she was there was a slightly wetter, vaguely weasel-shaped pancake spot that was slightly moister. If there were two things that anyone could say about weasel fur, is that it was a magnet for sweat and unbelievably soft and silky- when it wasn't a few atoms thin that is. Zafta recalled seeing a brown and tan sweat cloth being very popular among the other wrestlers in the training room when the weasel arrived. Or sometimes, she saw a pair of similarly colored panties stretched to the limits on the rears of her coworkers. She idly wondered if her shorts would survive the match. They fit properly not too long ago, but she had also upped the weights for her squats. Now, her ass nearly completely devoured the clothing. If they did rip to shreds, she had the perfect replacement material between her thighs. Hopefully, she could steal her away from some one-on-one time once the match was over. Jobbers didn't exactly have a lot of time away from the wrestlers, and Texas was no exception. Zafta put a stop to her musing and focused back on the match.

Sweat dripped down Zafta's brow as she arched her back and flexed with all her might. She got sweatier and sweatier as she put more and more **** on the poor former sheriff. Her thighs began to burn as he rubbed her thighs against each other, spreading out Texas between them. "Oof, my thighs are killing me. I hope you appreciate the effort I'm putting into this." Despite her being as flat as flat could be, wet squashing sounds could be heard from between her legs.

There was a hell on earth and it was between Zafta's thighs. The pressure was hard enough to turn coal into diamonds and the heat was unbearable. Texas was surprised she wasn't turned to goo and leak out from her thighs into a weasel puddle on the ring. Then again, if she was liquefied, she wouldn't be surprised if Zafta's fleshy prison was so tight, not a drop of her would escape. As the fleshy walls around her rubbed together, she could feel herself being spread more and more across her thighs. Which, unfortunately, also meant there was more of her to be squeezed. Her flat lungs didn't have a chance to take even the smallest gasps of air, but that didn't stop the smell from working its way into her nose. Another stroke of bad luck, she was squashed with her mouth open. The heavy, smothering musky scent of Zafta's sweat dominated her sense of taste and smell. Every second that ticked by stretched into an eternity. She had reached her limit the second she was locked away, but the **** went on and on.

"That's enough of that. Let's change things up, shall we?" Zafta asked herself as he finally relaxed her legs, or at least tried to. There was a gummy stickiness that bound her legs together. "Come on. Don't be shy. Show the crowd that pretty face." Zafta flexed her legs and managed to separate them with a wet tearing sound and Texas was revealed to the world. She had been reduced halfway between a pile of sweat-infused goop and a sticker. She was squashed facing the giraffe. She was considerably wider now than when she started, now curving along the thigh. Her face was frozen into an expression of pure terror with her eyes as wide as dishes. Zafta smiled down at her, clearly proud of her work.

"How are you holding up, cowgirl?" she jokingly asked, stifling a giggle.

If Texas could say anything, then she would have let loose a string of insults that would have gotten them taken off the air.

"Well, I can't end the match now. We only just gotten started."

This time, Texas somehow managed a pitiful whimper in her flattened state.

"Hopefully, you stay in one piece. I don't really know how to make a fight with a pile of goop look good," Zafta said as she moved into a sitting position. She leaned forward like she was stretching. She poked her fingers at the goopy Texas sticker, trying to get one of her hoofed fingers underneath. Again, the tip of her tongue stuck out from her lips as she concentrated. She kept on trying to lift the edge of her off to get ahold of her. "Come on, cowgirl. We have a show to put on."

The crowd was growing anxious as she kept on failing to pinch the edge of Texas. Finally, as she was about to give up, she managed to get a firm hold on one of her flat arms. She smiled as she ripped Texas free from her thigh. She shook her like someone would shake the sand of a beach towel, throwing flecks of sweat all over the ring. She brought Texas closer to her face. For the first time, Zafta looked a little conflicted. Hope blossomed within Texas's flattened chest. Maybe, just this once, she would be granted some mercy.

"Yuck, the things I do to put on a good show. Pucker up, cowgirl. This is gonna be just as gross for me as it will be for you."

Zafta leaned forward and kissed Texas directly on her flattened lips. If her flattened face was capable of changing expression, she would have looked shocked. At the very least, her breath didn't stink. So far, this was the only experience that wasn't completely miserable. But, as usual, her luck took a turn for the worse. Zafta's tongue **** its way between her flat lips, and it continued to make its way down her throat, managing to somewhat unflatten her throat. Thankfully, she retracted her tongue soon enough and broke the kiss. She took a deep breath and kissed her again, this time forcing a massive amount of breath into her flattened body. With a poof sound, she inflated back to her normal self. Texas coughed and sputtered as she tried to recover from her rapid reinflation. She was still soaked in sweat, but she was thankfully now 3d, not that it would last long. She was still held up by the giraffe, who rolled her eyes.

"Come on. It wasn't that bad. You know, if it wasn't for the sweat, you'd be a halfway decent kisser, cowgirl. Anyway, we have a match to finish."

Zafta dropped the weasel like a discarded sack of flour. She landed on her back, looking up at the giraffe, who only smiled down at her.

"That was only a taste of what's to come. Get ready, cowgirl, because we've only just gotten started.