Lady Molly on Assignement - A Ballbusting Beatdown  by ccbdin@yahoo.com All comments accepted at ccbdin@yahoo.com... Lady Molly's actual website (yes, she really exists) http://www.punishmentsquare.com/ladymolly/index.html When you're in a strange city, where you know no one, a knock on your hotel door can be disconcerting. Scroll the possibilities. Was my credit card rejected? Is the TV too loud? Is it a panhandler - a mugger? My mounting fears subside as I see a young professional looking woman through the peep hole. Though distorted by the fish bowl lens, it is plain to see that she is striking. In a black pinstripe skirt and top, she looks at first to be hotel staff, but something is askew. She is smoking a cigarette. Her skirt is too short. Her heels are too high. Though her hair is up, it is unruly. She stands gazing dreamily at the bottom of the door as she puts her cigarette to her pink lips. Okay, probably not hotel staff, but nothing to fear. Opening the door without further hesitation, her eyes look up to meet mine. "Yes", I ask? The young lady purses her lips and exhales a wisp of smoke over her left shoulder without breaking eye contact with me. "My name is Molly", she says, "May I come in." If I were home, I would have asked more questions, but at 10pm on a Friday night, with no friends for miles, I am anonymous and bored. The only thing I ask of her is to put out her cigarette. Molly steals a final drag and stomps the butt under her black heels and saves her exhale until she is already in the room behind me. "It really is a filthy habit, you know." "Yes, I should quit", Molly replies heavy with indifference. Once inside, Molly smiles sexily and I think I know why she is here. My mouth is agape. "A friend of yours has hired me to pay you a visit." Her voice is somehow both soft and firm. In her heels, we are almost eye-level as she drapes her arms over my shoulders. Our face now inches apart, I move my hands to her hips. I survey Molly's body preparing for my conquest. Her breasts are a breath from my chest and I am awaiting that first kiss. But first, "Who do I need to thank for this", I ask in low tones. For a moment, Molly looks happy that I asked, and then returns to seriousness. Her lips near my ear whispering, "I can't tell you, but she told me to give you THIS!" My heart stops. I feel like the bomb squad in that instant after cutting the wrong wire. Molly tightens her grip on my shoulders, and crashes her knee into my groin. There is no pain, not yet. It is the moment between blowing out the candle, and the thin stream of smoke that follows. Another knee in the balls and I am doubled over with a view of the next three identical shots. Her knee is a V8 piston repeatedly and powerfully squashing my testicles up and into my fading erection. Each blast makes a dull thud. With the final shot, my stomach twists and fills with agony. My legs give way and I am on the floor quietly choking in fetal position. Molly is talking now, but my scrambled senses will not allow me to hear her words. "You better get the fuck outta here", I cry out, interrupting her, "or you are going to get hurt." Unimpressed by my threats, she replies by kicking me in the ribs with the toe of her black stiletto. My hands move from my crotch to my now bruised ribs. Standing over me, and with little fanfare, Molly begins snapping kicks into every area on my body that I leave uncovered. The point of her shoe is sharp and each kick feels like a dagger. When I am able to cover an area that she wants to hit, she unceremoniously kicks the hand or arm that is blocking. If I can just get up before I am too hurt, I know I can fend her off. I am a man, and bigger than her too. I roll away from her across the beige hotel carpet and climb to my knees, aided by the sofa. On me knees, looking up at her, I realize that I am her prey. "I will double whatever you are being paid! Please don't do this", I beg, humiliated. Molly poses a look of consideration as she bunches my shirt up in her left hand. Her right fist cocks and crashes down into my eye. "Sorry, that would be bad for business," she states bluntly. Held fast between her left hand and the couch at my back, I have nowhere to fall so my head simply snaps back and forward. Looking pleased, Molly drills me with another fist and watches my head snap back and forward. Again, Molly is saying something, but I can not tell what. She has found a rhythm to her punches now and my face is worked over like a speedbag. Through my swelling eyes I see Molly is smiling again. I don't know how many punches it takes, but soon everything is dark. I awake to the smell of cigarette smoke causing me to cough. Each cough jars my bruised ribs and I wince in pain. I am on my back with Molly sitting behind me smoking from a long gold cigarette holder. My head is propped up on her lap so that I can see myself in the full length mirror on the back of the hotel door. My neck is entwined in Molly's legs. Her ankles are locked together in front of me. I don't look well. Both eyes are swollen halfway shut and there is blood coming from my lip. "Do you mind if I smoke now", she asks rhetorically. With that, she readjusts her crossed ankles and flexes her thighs, straightens her legs, and arches her back. My face reddens instantly and severely and I am again overcome with the now familiar feeling of unconsciousness. In between sudden surges of power, Molly speaks in a motherly tone. "Now the polite thing to do would be to ask a young lady if she would mind not smoking too much. Any nice person would surely put it out and not smoke. Telling me that I HAD to put it out, and that it is a filthy habit, well that's just rude." She follows that with another surge as I try to spill my apology. I flirt with consciousness for a few moments before being released and maneuvered into an arm bar. My swollen eyes fill with tears as Molly turns the pressure up. She is lecturing me again between frequent drags from her cigarette holder, but I am not listening. All of my focus is on the pain is my elbow and shoulder. I am also becoming very conscious of my bruised ribs. As if she read that very thought, Molly wraps her legs around my chest, crushing my tender ribs. While not overtly muscular, her legs are like steel cables and I am in agony as my bruised and battered ribs bend inward. In a panic, I begin blurting out offers, apologies, and cries for mercy, "I will write an apology letter. I will pay your client money, I will do anything, just please stop..." With each cry, Molly smiles sadistically and it occurs to me that she is truly enjoying herself now. Suddenly and strangely, I am overcome with a horrible revelation. I know the only way to make Molly stop is to submit myself completely. That is, this completely gorgeous young girl, this girl that has effortlessly and completely beaten and dominated me, this girl that has this confidence and ability, actually is my superior. And I am done clenching my teeth. I am done trying to block her. I am done trying to block the pain. I am done resisting. I am hers to do with what she wants. Only when she sees that I understand this, might she give me mercy. Lying trapped in Molly's body scissors, I turn my head to face her and relax my stomach muscles allowing her to tear me apart with her legs. Other than moaning, I am silent. The bargaining and pleading are done. As Molly enjoys the remainder of her cigarette, her legs finish doing there damage to me, and I no longer care. Sensing my complete submission, Molly stands up, takes the cigarette out of the holder, and puts it out, only to light another one without the holder. I never budge from my spot on the floor. "Normally, you'd be done right now, but I don't like the way you spoke to me at the door about my smoking. Spread your legs. I am going to teach you to like smoking. Every time you cough, I am going to kick you in the nuts." Molly sits on my chest and takes an unusually long drag from her all-white Pall Mall. Leaning in close to my face, Molly exhales directly into my nose and mouth causing me to cough violently. Molly shrugs, stands up, lines up, and delivers a wicked kick into my balls. "Let's try that again", Molly chimes. For the entire remainder of the cigarette, Molly blows the smoke into my face and drops her ashes into my mouth. Each time, it causes me to cough and my ribs to ache. I never consider trying to cover my testicles. They are hers for as long as she wants them. Over the next 5 minutes, Molly delivers a plethora of sharp kicks, knees, fists, and elbows to my balls. Knowing my destruction is complete, Molly says, "Stand up, you have just one more." It takes me some time to get to my feet. I turn and face her. "Ready", she asks? "Yes", I respond. As if she were lining up a field goal Molly steps backwards. "I want this to be a perfect shot. Remove your shorts." Standing naked and beaten, awaiting a final kick in the balls, too defeated to even consider defending or arguing, in front of this beautiful dominatrix, I begin to feel myself becoming aroused. Molly shrugs as she watches me salute her. With studied concentration she delivers the most powerful kick her legs could muster. I feel my testicles squash on the top of her foot and I am instantly nauseous. My body collapses to the ground around my battered nads and Molly says good-bye.