By Jimp from an idea by SK

“James, look at this!” Nigel exclaimed shining his torch upon the walls of the cave.

We had come to India on a backpacking adventure during the summer recess at Uni. Avoiding the noisy over-congested cities, we made our way into the north-eastern state of Meghalaya. In largely unexplored territory far from the tourist trail we found a caver’s paradise. Many of the caves here were unexplored and I’m sure some we came across were previously undiscovered. That’s where we made an amazing discovery.

Inside what we thought was just another large cave system, it suddenly opened up into a vast and echoey cavern. It was so tall that we could not even make out the ceiling despite several large holes that let in natural light that did little to improve the poor light levels. As we swung our torches around we realised in astonishment that an ancient temple had been built inside. It was so inaccessible and well-hidden, we were probably the first people to see it for millennia!

“That woman is sitting on a guy’s face!” Nigel’s exclamation echoed around the chamber.

I swung my torch beam to join with his to see a sculpture carved into the walls above of an extremely buxom woman who was virtually naked with an unfeasibly tiny waist and big hips depicted sitting on the face of a man whose large member was sticking up.

“Well he’s enjoying it.”

“So’s she by the look on her face!”

There was another sculpture close by of another unlikely proportioned woman lying on top of another guy facing his feet.

“Lucky sod’s getting a blow job!” Nigel remarked.

“Look at the size of her thighs!” I exclaim.

The man’s face was right up her big backside with huge legs stretched out on either side of his neck with ankles locked together.

“By the blissful expression on her face I say she’s forcing him to lick her custard pie to avoid getting his skull crushed between those big thighs.”

It was just an ancient carving but it was so well done that I was embarrassed to feel my manhood stiffening.

“They didn’t do that in those days, did they? Are you sure these are ancient?”

“Positive. No-one’s been down here for years, centuries probably.”

“So why are these sculpture’s so clean? Where’s all the cobwebs and stuff?” he asked. “It’s like someone comes down here cleaning.”

“Don’t be silly,” I replied, but he had a point.

Panning our torches around we saw that there were loads of such sculptures set in elaborately decorated alcoves high upon the walls. And yes, they seemed remarkably clean and free from dust.

“They must have a pretty fit cleaning lady to get right up there,” Nigel said as we moved to the next one.

“What the actual Eff!” He exclaimed. “Is that in the Karma Sutra?”

“I don’t know.”

It was another of those phenomenally figured women standing with a look of orgasmic pleasure on her face. On his knees before her is another phallically-endowed guy facing her with his head trapped between her huge thighs with his face buried in her crotch.

“Standing face-scissors,” I remark. “I never expected to see that in an ancient piece of art.”

“Is he?”

“Licking her pussy. Yes.”

Shining our torches across the walls, we stared in amazement for they were covered with beautifully sculpted depictions of exceptionally dimensioned women in poses of physical domination over aroused men who performed acts of sexual devotion to their female conquerors.

“I don’t know for sure but I don’t think the Karma Sutra contains much female dominance. This is something else,” I tell Nigel as we explore, enthralled by the carvings which were becoming more erotic with every alcove.

“Like something out of a Jim Priest story,”

“The more historically based ones, yes.”

“Jeez! What’s that!” Nigel exclaimed suddenly flashing his torch around at ground level. “Something moved over there. I swear.”

“Stop trying to scare me,” I told him.

I swung my torch to join his and made out a pile of old rags that had been thrown into the corner. We both screamed like little girls as the rags moved followed by a kind of throaty husky laugh at our reaction.

“Wh ... who’s there?” I asked nervously panning my torch towards the sound.

To our astonishment we saw that the heap of cloth was in fact an ancient wrinkly-faced woman squatting in the gloom eating a bowl of lentils with her hands. By her side is a container containing cleaning materials.

“Well there’s the cleaner,” Nigel said as we lowered our torches to stop dazzling her. “So much us being the first people here in centuries.”

“Maybe she comes here to look after the place,” I said. “Look how old she is. She couldn’t climb up there to clean.”

For she was a grey-haired wretch with deep wrinkles on a face that looked like tanned leather. Wearing a shabby choli so dirty and washed out that it was almost grey, she was so skinny she looked anorexic or more likely severely malnourished.

“Don’t keep staring,” I told him. “She’s just some poor old woman eating her food. Let her be.”

“She’s pointing at something.”

We aim our torches to where she indicates and see more sculptures except this time much more explicit showing a range of sexual positions with outlandishly figured woman demonstrating extraordinary flexibility as they ride the men.

“Some of those don’t seem humanly possible,” Nigel gasped.

“The women are clearly in charge dominating the men physically and sexually.”

The old crone made that throaty chuckling sound again.

“She’s giving us a funny smile.”

“Don’t look at her then, ignore her.”

A thought hit me.

“You know, this place and the old crone remind me of a the old Indian woman the Victorian explorers encountered in a Jim Priest story [JIMP#044],” I told him. “You know the cleaning woman everyone ignores until she suddenly attacks and takes out a whole load of soldiers.”

“You do know those crappy stories aren’t real?” he asked. “Does she have to sit like that?”

We’d seen this a lot. Women would squat down to clean or do other menial tasks in a manner that to our eyes was quite degrading and shameful. Now that he’d mentioned it, my eyes were drawn to the wrinkly old hag who squatted to eat her meal with her filthy dress tucked between her painfully thin legs like a pair of bloomers.

Now it was me who couldn’t stop staring. Slightly hunched, with a deeply wrinkled face and unkempt grey hair indicating a great age. She must be well into her 80’s at least! Her choli was so soiled, shabby, threadbare and thin, she might as well not wear anything! I couldn’t help noticing that her breasts were visible through the worn material and although small, they were beautifully rounded and firm. I quickly averted my gaze but not before she gave another throaty chuckle as if amused by us.

The skinny old woman hadn’t taken her eyes off us and now began to slowly rise from her squatting position. She was barely 5 foot tall whereas we were around 5’8. Still staring, she raised her right hand to her mouth then slowly began sucking the fingers she’d used to eat dinner clean one by one. Loud wet slurps echoed around the cavern and were actually quite provocative even if performed by a scrawny old hag!

“I bet she gives a great blow job,” Nigel joked.

“Sssh! she might understand you,” I urged.

With her eyes never leaving us, and no indication that she knew what we were saying, she continued to slowly suck each finger clean in a way that would be quite erotic if she were younger and better looking.

Standing up in an area of better light I was stunned by how wiry her painfully thin arms and legs were.

“Christ, she’s ripped!” Nigel exclaims.

Indeed at first glance she looks all skin and bone but that was deceiving. Her scrawny body was covered with dense taut toned sinew that resembled a human anatomy chart! Her ankles are super skinny and lead up to small hard slabs of solid jutting calve muscles with sharp crisp lower edges like spades and vertically running tendons along the outside joining it to the ankles. There were even clearly defined vertical grooves between her shins and calves. My eyes follow the lines of her lithe legs upwards to be stunned by the level of tone and definition. Although exceptionally skinny, her thighs are long, lean and shredded. I never expected to see such outstanding definition of quads on such thin legs. Likewise her arms were very taut, corded and veiny as hell. You could see every cut and there were also very prominent biceps veins running down her upper arms. As she continued cleaning her fingers, every movement of her arm caused small hard rippling muscles to pop out in constant motion including quite jaw-dropping small hard biceps and very vascular formidable looking forearms.

“She’s skinny, probably malnourished with zero body-fat,” I told Nigel.

I had to admit the sight was mesmerizing for a female-muscle fan like me, even though the old hag’s face was quite repulsive. I’m not overly keen on such extreme levels of vascularity but with her natural skin tan it highlighted her muscularity and looked quite intimidating.

“She’s probably spent her whole live scrubbing floors on her knees and other bits of back-breaking manual labour just to survive.”

“Jeez! She’s got an effing six pack!” Nigel exclaimed.

The old wretch’s ribs show through the worn short-sleeved blouse with a bare mid-riff. I’m staggered by the sight of a taut shredded belly that looks like brickwork carved with every cut showing in shiny toned brown stone! In mesmerised awe I watched those abs become less raised, but still highly visible, as she inhaled then rise gently as she exhaled becoming amazingly deep-cut again.

The wizened old crone gave another throaty chuckle looking right at me with a wide gappy smile. I was praying that she hadn’t spotted the stiffness forming at the front of my trousers in response to her remarkable body in this gloom. Well it wouldn’t have been for her face! Extending a long slender bony finger towards me the hag pointed up at the erotic sculptures. Not breaking eye-contact, she closed the fingers of her right hand into a tunnel then began vigorously thrusting the index finger of her other hand in and out in a very suggestive action.

“I think she likes you,” Nigel sniggers.

She stopped the pumping action and then pointed along the rows of sculptures.

“Jeez! she wants to do all those positions to you. You lucky sod, she’s probably hasn’t had any for decades,” he sniggered. “Be careful you don’t kill the frail old dear.”

“You can see how ripped she is. She’s more likely to kill me sexually!”

As if I hadn’t got the message, she lifted up her shabby choli with her other hand to expose a hairy pussy and her vagina. The finger that was pointing at the sculptures now pointed at me and then to her old twat.

“Christ! What a sight!” Nigel groaned in disgust.

It wasn’t pleasant but I can’t help staring, as she’s holding up her skirt, at her lean skinny legs. Amazingly ripped and vascular they have extremely slender but perfect muscle definition.

“The old bag wants to have dominant sex with you, mate,” he sniggers.

To be honest, the sight of her taut ropey sinewy toned well-defined muscle was actually very arousing. However, I have morals and self-control and do not go around porking every ugly old wrinkled crone that shows me her twat, not that they ever do.

Her smile becomes wider and I notice with repugnance, missing teeth and badly stained yellowing ones.

“Let’s move elsewhere” I whisper to Nigel.

“Can your girlfriend come with us?” he joked.

Maybe she understood a bit of English, or maybe it was his tone and attitude, but her expression made it clear that she was annoyed by Nigel. A skinny taut toned arm rippled with an eye-catching movement of moving muscle to point at him with disdain then slashed across her throat. The signal was very clear.

“I don’t think she likes you. I think you’ve upset her,” I said.

“Ur, maybe we should move on, like you said.”

With her taut rugged belly rising and falling slowly she gave him a glowering look.

Before we could turn to go, the spindly old woman took off like an Olympic sprinter. With her skinny shredded arms and legs pumping up and down, she was closing the gap between us at an incredible rate with a look of malice on her wizened face. We stood there frozen to the spot by the sight of an incredibly skinny old woman rapidly covering the rocky cavern floor in bare feet and a scary amount of wiry veiny muscles. We decide to run, but it’s too late.

Effortlessly leaping onto a large carved rock that may have been some kind of alter set in the temple floor, there was a hard flex in her skinny defined thighs then to our surprise the old crone leapt high into the air with shocking agility that belied her advanced age. In an instant her scrawny legs spread wide, extending one leg and folding the other beneath her. It was a terrifying surprise to see the lean taut bodied old bag hurtling towards us through the air like a kung-fu master. I caught a glimpse of a brazenly exposed hairy crotch and long bulges of stringy hamstrings at the back of her slim well-defined thighs.

“HUR!” her crackly aged voice let out this unsettling almost orgasmic shout with a terrifying ferocious look upon her dried-prune like face.

It seemed surreal until the sole of her leading foot pounded against Nigel’s chest with a dreadfully loud sound which reverberated around the cavern. Shockingly for such skinny legs her foot struck with such force I heard several of his ribs crack. His cry of pain is chilling as the power of the unexpected kick sends him flying backwards across the temple before crashing onto his back upon the floor.

Landing on her feet, the old hag she walks over to poor Nigel and stands over him sneering down at him. Suddenly her thin legs spread in opposite directions as she dropped into a perfectly-executed side-splits landing with her bare pussy right onto his face! She gave a throaty chuckle that was almost a purr of delight at Nigel’s muffled shocked cry of protest against her pussy. However, even he felt the eroticism of the situation of finding his face buried in a woman’s bare snatch whilst she did the splits and a stiff tent began to grow at the front of his trousers.

“Get off him please,” I begged.

I don’t know whether she understood but she slid her crotch back until she was doing the splits across the top of his chest. He looked up in terror at the crazy old woman pinning his shoulders with her wide-spread legs while she looked down at him with gap-toothed smugness.