Tuesday, December 28, 2010

The Ironic Thing (R)

The ironic thing, considering the way I wound up completely beaten and humiliated, is that what first attracted me to Alexis was that she was such a “girly-girl.” Not that she is small or dainty; in fact, she is a good-sized woman, tall and curvy with shapely thighs and just the right amount of flesh on her bones. I mean that she’s “girly” in the sense of always having her make-up perfect, always having her long nails perfectly shaped and painted pink, always making faces and squeaking “Eeewww!” when she sees a spider. And she had been attracted to me, in turn, because I was always a man’s man--fairly tall, strong, wiry and athletic. I was always there to take her in my arms when she was scared or upset, always there to open jars and move furniture, always there to do the man’s work when it needed to be done. When we made love I was always on top; there was never a question of doing things any other way.

Of course, our relationship had a downside. To be frank, she was bossy. She had a tendency to whine or nag or cajole until she got her way. And when she didn’t get her way, she pouted. It seemed to me she was a little immature, and a lot selfish. But so beautiful!

I was surprised, and even hurt, when she left me for Dustin. Dustin of all people…sort of a wuss, I always thought. Nice enough, kind of funny, but smaller and thin. He probably didn’t weigh any more than Alexis herself. She told me he made her feel “important.” Geez! She also mentioned that she had more fun with him, that they did silly things like wrestling around, and that he even let her win. Wrestling around? Letting her win? What a loser! And she left me for him? Good riddance!

Well, I wanted to think myself happy to be rid of her, but I really wasn’t. I missed her. Not that I would ever let her know that. As much as I wanted her back, my pride wouldn’t let me stoop to trying to win her away from him.

So it was quite a shock when Dustin himself called me asking for help. I was hesitant to talk to him, but the more he spoke, the more intrigued I was. His story was hard to swallow, and yet as soon as we hung up I was headed out the door to their apartment.

Dustin had told me how they had indeed started wrestling, playfully at first. It was fun foreplay, getting them both excited. To make it more interesting, he said, he had taught her a little about wrestling, and she had learned well. After a few weeks she was holding her own with him, usually avoiding being pinned. And then, amazingly, she had surpassed Dustin’s ability and began to defeat him regularly. He was obviously embarrassed to admit this to me, but his current situation had become unendurable. Alexis no longer wanted to wrestle just as a precursor to making love…now she took satisfaction in beating Dustin at various times of the day, for various reasons. If she had a bad day at work, she took it out on Dustin. If they disagreed about where to go out for dinner, she would wrestle him to submission and physically force him to give in. She had discovered a dominant, sadistic side to her personality. As much as he loved her, he didn’t want to be submissive. Try as he might, he couldn’t win against her in a fight any more.

I asked him what he wanted me to do about it, not sure I wanted to do anything. His story was rather hard to believe--a grown man unable to beat a woman in wrestling or fighting? Moreover, I wasn’t necessarily inclined to help the guy who had stolen my girl and now had problems with her. His request was most interesting. He wanted me to come over this afternoon and hide in his closet and watch; he was sure that she would start a fight with him when she got home from work. In the middle of the fight, he wanted me to jump out and intervene once she had become abusive. He figured that I could overpower her and force her into submission, making her realize what a bitch she had become.

I agreed to Dustin’s strange plea, but not because I planned to help him. Instead, I intended to watch and see if Alexis really did beat him up, then try to win her back to me; how could she prefer to stay with a wimp when she could come back a real man? It was a mean thing to do to Dustin, to not even plan to come to his aid, but the opportunity to use his weakness to get Alexis back was simply too enticing.

So I drove over to their apartment and was hiding in the closet when Alexis came home. She was more beautiful than ever, and just as feminine. Based on Dustin’s description of her newfound brutal streak, I was expecting her to be a little less “girly,” but her lipstick was as perfectly applied as it ever was, even at the end of the day, and her fingernails were still long and brightly painted. She and Dustin talked as she stripped off her clothes, revealing her red bra and panties, and I had to fight hard to resist the urge to jump out right then and ask her to come back to me.

I didn’t have to wait long before their conversation turned negative. She asked him if he had done the dishes, if he had picked up her dry cleaning, if he had done a whole list of errands for her. As soon as she got to a task he had not accomplished, she rose from the chair and stood over him where he sat on the bed. Her back was toward me, her hands on her hips…I had an excellent view of her round rear end, full but not fat, barely contained by her red panties.

“Why didn’t you finish it?” she asked, her voice more a threat than a question.

“I just--“

CRACK! Her slap was sudden and forceful, knocking Dustin off the bed. He started to get up and was met with a knee to his chest. He grunted and coughed. Alexis seized his right wrist and twisted his arm into a hammerlock and forced him face first onto the carpet. They were now facing toward me, only five feet away, and from the cracked closet door I watched in amazement as this very feminine, very beautiful woman straddled a full-grown man and forced his wrist between his shoulder blade. Her round breasts dangled down, hardly held in check by her lacey red bra. He cried out in obvious pain, but she just taunted him. “You’re such a wimp, Dustin. Such a sissy. Can’t even fight off a little ol’ girl, can you?” She pulled his head back by the hair, forcing his neck back at a violent angle. He actually whimpered in his agony. “Is the little girl hurting the big strong man? Poor baby,” she cooed. For his part, Dustin couldn’t even answer; his flailing legs and choked gurgle were the only replies he was capable of.

I couldn’t believe Alexis was doing this. The same woman that had shared my bed, who had always been so docile and doll-like, who came to me for anything requiring strength, was torturing a grown man! Perhaps because of my surprise, or maybe because she was so sexy in only her underwear, I felt myself grow aroused at the sight. I knew I was supposed to jump out right now and rescue Dustin--he was waiting for me to do so. And I had planned to jump out and simply try to win her away from him. Instead I stayed hidden, unable to quit watching the spectacle in front of me.

She didn’t disappoint. Still straddling Dustin, Alexis rammed his face forcefully into the carpet and held it down, digging her long nails into his neck. He squirmed but couldn’t escape, given that she had his arm trapped behind him. Then, rising to her feet, Alexis dragged Dustin up by his hair and started slapping him, hard, across the face, with both her right and left hand. He tried to grasp her wrists to stop her but she twisted out of his grip time and time again. Soon his face was red and swelled. Tears were running down his face, and he could hardly stand. I could tell he wanted to call me to come out of the closet, but he was so beaten that he couldn’t talk coherently.

Finally Alexis let her boyfriend drop to the floor. He lay there panting, crying, a mess. She stood over him, still taunting him for being a wimp. Slowly she sat down on his outstretched right arm, facing his head, and leaned over and grabbed his left wrist and held his left arm out to the side of his body. He feebly struggled but she clearly had him pinned. Holding his one arm secure with her left hand and sitting on his other arm, Alexis began her most brutal torture yet, applying a vicious stomach claw. Her long pink nails probed and pulverized his stomach, causing his whole body to twitch and jump in pain. Every so often she would reach further down and grab his manhood for a quick bit of torture or reach up and twist and pinch one of his nipples; but always she returned to his abdomen for her primary torture. When at last Alexis stood up again, Dustin was only barely conscious. He curled into a fetal ball and wept almost silently. I could only pity him.

My feelings toward Alexis, on the other hand, were mixed. My lust at her beauty and sensuality only increased by seeing this terrifying performance, and yet I had contempt at her callousness. Why had she been so brutal to a guy who seemed basically nice?


She turned around suddenly and gasped when I opened the closet door.

“My God! What are you--I mean…did you see…Oh God!” She stumbled over her words.

“I saw it all. Dustin told me everything,” I said. I looked down at him, still on the floor, completely out of it.

“Why are you here? I don’t understand…”

“I was supposed to help him. But…” I trailed off. Why didn’t I help him?

Alexis was regaining her composure. She looked at my crotch and saw the bulge in my khakis. “You got excited,” she said, “and couldn’t stop watching. Or maybe,” she began, pausing as an idea formulated in her mind, “maybe you were afraid.”

“What!?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” she said, take a step toward me. I stepped back involuntarily and she smiled and pointed a long, polished nail at my chest. “You’re afraid of me, aren’t you? You don’t want to end up like that, do you?” She pointed to the lump of beaten man on the floor, still drooling.

“Actually, I was going to ask you to come back to me. But now, now I don’t think I want you.”

“Want me? You don’t deserve me,” she said. “You’re just a pussy like him.”

I laughed in disbelief. “Come on, Alexis,” I snarled. “You might have figured out how to beat poor Dustin up, but be real. If you tried any of that on me I’d put you in the hospital.”

Instead of answering, she stuck out her jaw and opened her mouth slightly, seductively. Slowly she edged the pink tip of her tongue out and slid it along her beautiful polished lips, a seductive taunt. Seeing that she now had my interest, she held out her hand and motioned me forward, her index finger beckoning me, her long fingernails waving me closer. I took one step, then another, as though being called by a siren. Alexis was so sexy…and she was summoning me.

When I was within three feet of this brunette bombshell, her right foot shot up and out, smashing into my impassioned crotch. I felt a surge of nausea rise in my abdomen and I dropped to my knees, cursing my stupidity. I leaned forward, my face inches from the carpet, and found myself staring at her lovely feet, her toenails as always perfectly manicured.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” she said. “Thought you’d get a little action,” she said in a little girl’s voice. “What a dope you always were.”

Despite my pain, I wasn’t incapacitated, and her taunting spurred me on. I lunged forward and tackled her, wrapping my arms around her shapely legs, knocking her to the ground. We struggled briefly but my strength was too much for her, and second later I was sitting astride her silky stomach, holding both her arms down to the carpet. She bucked and struggled underneath me like a rodeo bronco, her teeth bared, her eyes flashing. I laughed at her efforts.

“Get serious, Alexis. You know I’m a man, an athletic man, and that you’re just a girly-girl. There’s no way you’re getting up. Go ahead and quit squirming before you hurt yourself.” I was enjoying the look of frustration on her face as I spoke.

“Let me up, you bastard,” she screamed.

“Not on your life. What is your problem? What has come over you?”

She stopped squirming and stared at me. Her eyes narrowed and she let out a slow breath. “Somewhere along the line I realized that I didn’t have to get pushed around by you men any more, just because you’re men. I’m tougher and stronger than Dustin, so why shouldn’t I use my power?”

“Well, you’re obviously not tougher and stronger than me, are you? What did I ever do to you?”

“For one thing, you hid in a closet and spied on me and Dustin! That’s pretty darn sleazy!” Alexis paused, panting, and struggled once more in my grasp. She couldn’t break her wrists free so she eventually gave up again and continued speaking. “And for another thing, I guess I’m just still pissed off about our whole relationship. You never listened to me about anything. You just made all the decisions for yourself…and I resent the hell out of that.”

She made me furious talking about our relationship that way, and yet sitting atop her, looking down at her heaving breasts and beautiful, angry face, I became aroused again, even after her having kicked my groin a minute ago. I ground my crotch into her stomach in spite of myself.

“It’s making you hot, isn’t it?” she said, grinning contemptuously. “Beating up a girl. Seeing me beat up Dustin. What a pervert…getting off on this.”

“Don’t give me that,” I said even though I knew she was right. “You’re the one who’s getting off on it. You started this, not me.”

“And I’m going to finish it, too!” she screamed and suddenly broke free from my grasp. I must have loosened my grip, because with a quick jerk and twist of her arms she had freed both her hands and was now clawing at my legs and chest. I tried to grab her again but her arms were a blur of motion as she attacked from beneath me. Somehow she managed to buck up and I lost my balance. We rolled across the carpet and briefly she straddled me until I threw her off again. Before I could pin her again she sprang to her feet and circled behind me. I rose to my knees only to have her wrap her right arm around my throat and squeeze violently. I tried to continue to stand up but she forced me forward, her strong thighs on either side of my back. I reached back to grab one of her legs and she caught my arm, further trapping me.

My size and strength advantage were temporarily nullified by her position, and she knew it. “What’s wrong, lover?” she whispered in my ear. I felt her tongue nuzzling my neck. I clawed at her forearm with my free hand, trying to get some air. “Has the little girly-girl got the big strong man in a teensy bit of twouble?” She stuck her tongue in my ear and I tried to pull away. She giggled malevolently.

Meanwhile I was trying to free my left arm from her grip but instead she secured her control by managing to grab my wrist. Given the leverage she had standing over me, and the fact that I was fighting to breathe, she succeeded in wrenching my arm into a hammerlock. I remembered what she had done to Dustin and began to panic. With her hips she was forcing me down to the carpet, while still strangling me with her right arm. I was only barely supporting my weight and hers with one arm, and I could tell that I couldn’t keep it up much longer.

In desperation I rolled, hoping to force her off and start again from a neutral position. Instead, she let me roll while standing over me, then planted her knees in my solar plexus, forcing the air out of me. I coughed and fought desperately for a breath. Now I found myself in a fetal position, on my side, hoping to suck in air. In my fog I could hear her taunting me, could feel her kicking me in the side, and I glimpsed Dustin, still lying pathetically on the other side of the room. Was I as pathetic as him?

Alexis stood over me. With mocking daintiness, she rolled me to my back and sat hard on my chest. I couldn’t prevent her from planting her knees on my biceps, pinning me painfully exposed underneath her. Her smooth, creamy thighs stretched tauntingly to either side of my face, her round breasts bounced a foot above my eyes. She grinned at me, her makeup still perfect. Once again, she ran her tongue around the rim of her lips, teasing, humiliating. I kicked up, as vainly as Dustin had. Alexis reached back and grabbed both my legs and pushed them forward, folding me in half. Now I was truly helpless. Her pink fingernails bit into my calves as she forced my feet to the carpet above my head. In the midst of the pain, the nausea, the humiliation, I wondered how—and why—such a beautiful woman could beat me so mercilessly.

Being bent in half, with her one-hundred twenty pounds on my chest, I got little air, so by the time she released me I was nearly unconscious due to hypoxia. So when she tied my feet together with my own belt, I couldn’t stop her. When she tied my hands together with her hose, I couldn’t stop her. When she ran her long nails up and down my body, up and down my manhood, all the while daring me to make her stop, I couldn’t. When she wrapped her long fingers around my neck and dared me to stop her from killing me with her bare hands, I couldn’t. I could only cry, salty tears streaming down my face, as she tortured me even worse than she had Dustin, twisting my nipples until they bled, mauling my stomach with her strong fingers and sharp nails, finally bringing me to climax so roughly that it was clear it was for her own pleasure only, none of mine. The last thing I remember before she smothered me unconscious, her warm hand over my mouth and pink fingernails pinching my nose, was the satisfied look on her girly-girl face.

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