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Creating The Fattest Crusher.

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Joined
Jan 11, 2021
Messages
528
Location
Manawatu, New Zealand
Creating The Fattest Crusher.



Chapter 1



I am a person who likes to feel the weight of a large person on top of me. From a very early child years I liked the feeling of having my belly button pushed in close to the spine. Reverse bear hug is the ultimate method but there are many various methods of achieving this I find equally good. There are many things I do not like done in the process of compressing my abdomen.

I enjoyed feeling weight on my chest so long as it does not affect my ability to breath. Does that mean I have a low weight limit on the chest? The first time I had human weight on my chest was at the age of six when I was light for my age at 40 pounds (18.1 Kilograms) had a 14 year old bully who was heavy for is age at 5 foot 3 inches tall was 118 pounds (almost 8.5 stone) sat on my chest because I would not share my toy train with him. He sat centred over the rib cage lightly bouncing with his soft butt. There was no way I was giving him the train; not because I did not want him to have it but solely the fact he would have got off my chest.

This is not a domination thing as it is the pressure on me I enjoyed. If the other person wanted to order me around and hurt me just to see me suffer I would climb out of the crush and leave them. Even if they were 3 times my weight I could get out of the crush. Okay at the age of 6 I never had to escape as it was remaining under the weight I had to work on.

At school on the field I also got my belly sat on by a 13-year-old Second Former. He was held back a year as his marks were not good enough to go to High School. He was the biggest kid in Primary School so he was the head bully. At 110 pounds he was close to the size of the 14 year old. I did enjoy the belly sitting right up to the moment the Duty Teacher turned up and ordered him off. By the time the teacher arrived I wanted more weight on top of my stomach and probably some on to chest sit me.

I remember the incident fondly as the verbal abuse was drowned out by the wonderful pressure on my midriff. I was already using the wooden bunk beds in the workmen shed to squash my belly at home on the farm. But this live weight was superior in every way. His bottom was not flabby like the 14-year-old feeling the changing of highest pressure point changed as his rump was tensed up gave it joy by the randomness.

The ability to get people to initialise a crush on me did not exist in me so I was almost twenty when I got the next heavy crushing from a person. I had used equipment including cars to put weight on my guts but it was in an Ohakune Pub when some guy randomly threatened to sit on me if I did not stop talking about birthing lambs. I looked at the guy and he was 5 foot 3 inches around the midsections.

“Yes Please”, rolled through my head. This was followed by panic that I might mess this up and miss out.

“I think I can handle that”, I said out allowed to him.

The crowed reacted and suddenly I realised this was not private. I could not let it be public knowledge that it was deep desire to have this persons weight compressing my innards. He nodded and suddenly I was grabbed from behind and laid along the bar facing up. He climbed up and crawled along the bar top until he was over my body. He looked at the crowed who were edging him on.

To my disappointment he partially missed my midsection and some of his weight was on my hipbone. It was a lot of weight that I later found out was about 270 pounds (122 kilograms). With his arms behind him he lifted his butt scooted alone a couple inches and dumped his full weight on my soft zone. The weight compressed my stomach about half way in and the bar patrons reacted as if they felt pain.

This was not the first time this guy had done this in the bar and apparently the record by a body builder was 140 seconds. Most guys were screaming for Mersey in less than ten seconds.

“Are you still under there?” He asked at the 30-second mark. “Do you have any stomach muscles? I cannot feel any fight in there.”

I thought about what he said wondering why would I end the white-hot crushing my innards were being given but remembered it was not normal to enjoy it. I flexed my abdominal muscles and lifted him to full belly extension. It was easy to support the weight but it lacked the white-hot crush sensations that I was enjoying moments earlier.

“Are there are the muscles,” he said. “Tough lot they are.”

I think he was impressed with the ease I lifted him with the muscles. I let him sink into my guts as deep as his weight could push in.

“Hand enough aye? Want to yield do you?” He taunted.

“Still good,” I replied.

He did not lower his legs down the sides of the bar but kept his weight on his butt. The crowd was watching expecting me to yield when suddenly a count down from ten started. When the crowd got to zero a new record was called out. At the 5 minute mark the crowd started to loose interest as they come for drinking and socialising. This big dude kept sitting on top of me, as he wanted a submission from me.

I was in heaven; my innards were settling and sinking, he was sitting deeper in my abdominal cavity. There were some 10-second gaps where the crush sensation was immense but I would resettle to a white-hot crush.

The 30-minute mark someone in the bar said, “He is still going”.

The crowd was back and interested so this guy was going to end it by bouncing on my stomach. This was difficult in the sitting position so after a few he stopped. He placed his hands under his butt that over hanged my body working out he was almost sitting on the bar. I pushed again with my Rectus Abdominis; lifting him up but not fully with a quick partial release. I pushed up most of the way again and partially released pushing up again and allowing it to sink to flattened again.

“Still good.” I said knowing he knew he was bested. “Get someone to sit on your shoulder.” I suggested.

“No you win.” He said.

My heart sank, as it was over. This was the greatest 30 minutes in my life up to then. He climbed down and I sat up on the bar. I felt a hand on my forearm and I turned and saw a stunning blue-eyed brunet attached to the hand.

“So what do you do for a job,” she asked.

“I control the wild horses in the Kimanawa Ranges.”

“You control wild horses, that is what?” She asked.

“I catch and break wild horses when somebody wants one otherwise I keep the numbers down.” I replied. “I control the possum population too.”

“You kill horses and possum then. What do you do with the carcases when you killed them?” She asked. I was not sure she was interested the answer.

“I load them into the back of my Land Rover and take them to a buyer.” I answered leaving out details of the winch I used.

Part 2 of Chapter 1 to follow
 

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