The Power of the Bare Foot
By Jack
Kara beats the shit out of three evil men


WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! KABLOOIE!

Great, thought Kara. One more kicking bag gone victim to the power of her bare
feet.

It was a hot summer day, but Master Kara was going through her workout,
punching and kicking with her fit, powerful body. Kara had owned this dojo for
the last five years. She was pushing 40, but looked amazing. She attributed
this to the martial arts, which she felt had saved her life, and a life spent
99% in bare feet. Kara's three big missions were teaching kids (if she hadn't
been a martial arts instructor with a thriving kid instruction program, she
would have become a teacher), women's self-defense (the proudest moment in
Kara's life was when the news reported last week that one of her female
students was attacked by three rapists who would up in the intensive care unit
with multiple broken bones and internal bleeding), and barefoot education. The
science was overwhelming that the human body was simply not designed for
shoes. A totally barefoot lifestyle was fun, sexy, stress-relieving, soothing.
Kara just couldn't understand why anyone would ever wear shoes.

Kara had always been a tomboy, running around barefoot, better at sports than
the guys, and constantly using her fists to "train" bullies that their
harassing ways were not going to be tolerated. Kara never lost a fight in
school, and she usually was "re-educating" multiple opponents at once.

Then came college. Kara lost her way. She partied, drank, gained weight, ...
and wound up being raped and beaten at gunpoint AND knifepoint. Lying in the
hospital, Kara wanted to kill herself. Then she did something all people
should do ... she prayed. And divine guidance told her to do thre things: 1)
get back to her old self ... a two-fisted, barefooted, butkicking tomboy, and
2) never wear shoes again unless necessary, and 3) beat those three rapists up
so badly that they would beg the police to arrest them. All of those things
happened.

Kara graduated college with a degree in business. She opened her own dojo, AND
went around the world promoting self-defense for women and children, as well
as the joys of a barefooted lifestyle. She also competed at the professional
level as a martial artist and became truly feared in the ring.

"Well, well, well!" came a voice behind Kara, "so this is the badass karate
bitch!"

Kara turned . Three men, all big, had walked into her dojo. Kara noticed a
knife on one, a gun on another. Kara instantly had two feelings: 1) offense at
this transgression into her dojo, and 2) excitement ... it had been awhile
since she'd had the opportunity to reeducate a bully.

The gun was out, he came walking toward her. His friends were following. Kara
remained still. She wanted them close. She was curious to know what this was
about, but she was fairly sure they'd be dying to tell her in a few minutes.

"Our employers have given us very simple instructions. Kill you, burn this
place to the ground. But we'll give you a gift. Each one of us is going to
fuck you as much as we want befor e you're dead. Of course, we'll want to beat
you to a bloody pulp first, just to make sure you go along with it. And once
we're done here, we'll go home and rape your two daughters. Then kill them,
too."

"Better than being raised by some dyke who can't keep a husband."

The other two laughed evilly. They already had erections. They thought this
would be a party. It would be for Kara. For them, this would be hands down the
worst ten minutes of their lives.

Well, Kara thought, they just threatened my two daughters. So, broken bones
are going to be happening. And they brought up my ex-husband. (Her husband was
a decorated combat veteran, who loved the idea of a woman who could keep up
with him physically. But after a few years, he came to hate this woman who was
superior to him in every way. His two daughters were just like their mom ...
100% barefooters who used their fists to put bullies in their place. And while
his business fell apart, hers thrived. His attempts at a fighting career
stalled, he just wasn't very good, while Kara was featured regularly in
Martial Arts Monthly. One night, he held Kara at gunpoint, threw a pair of
handcuffs to her, and told her to cuff herself. He then told her how much he
hated her, and who was the superior one now. One kick from Kara's tough feet
disarmed him. A whole bunch more kicks put him in physical therapy for the
next year. She told him never to come back. Five years later, he was a drunk,
overweight, violent angry slob. He showed up out of the blue, armed to the
teeth threatening to kill and rape Kara and her two daughters. His oldest
daughter, now thirteen, was the only one home. Getting beaten to a bloody pulp
by your barefooted thirteen-year-old daughter is one incredibly sobering
experience. So is being sent to prison for the next ten years. As he was
dragged crying uncontrollably out of the court, Kara and her two daughters
waved goodbye with their bare soles, and yelled enthusiastically
"BAREFOOTIN'!"

As a martial arts instructor, Kara always taught that violence was a last
option. But as a women's self-defense instructor, her rules were a bit
different. She taught her beginning students to get away. She taught her
intermediate students to do what was necessary. But her advanced students
learned a lesson that was at the core of Kara's heart ... a barefooted woman
who knows how to fight has a duty ... to dispense justice. Always dispense the
proper amount. Sometimes, a quick smack or twist of the arm will make the
point. But a rapist, a child abuser, a mugger, anyone who would use weapons to
intimidate an innocent person ... these people deserved to get the worst
beatings of their lives. Your heart and your bare feet will tell you what is
right. If you dispense too little, then justice is not done, which feels
terrible. If you dispense too much, then you are no different than the bullies
you are fighting. But when a barefooted woman beats the living shit out of a
truly evil man, then justice is done, and that feels amazing. She also taught
one other thing ... seal the deal. Usually, when the bully turns to begging
and pleading (which he always does), he needs one last round. One last flurry
of fists and feet to show him that his cowardly apologies don't make it all
better. Him lying on the ground in more pain than he could possibly imagine
with a strong, proud, beautiful barefooted woman standing over him. That was
what made it better.

SWOOSH! Kara was one of the fastest martial artists alive. And one of the most
powerful. The moment the moron walking into her dojo was within arm's reach
with that gun, there was a blur faster than the eye could see and the gun was
twisted from his hand. CRACK! Now, Kara stood with the gun pointed at her
attackers. And the guy who had previously had the gun was sprawled on the
ground, bawling his eyes out, his hand twisted at an unpleasant angle.

"You broke my wrist, you bitch!"

Kara shook her head. "You shouldn't call women that. Especially not when they
are pointing a gun at you."

"You won't use that! Everyone knows you're a do-gooding Christian bitch!"

Kara hated guns. That didn't mean she didn't know how to use them. She popped
the magazine, ejected the bullet in the chamber, and threw them all to the
back of the room.

"You're right." Kara spoke calmly, but with a weight that was terrifying. "I
don't believe in guns. I believe in bare feet. And for the next five minutes,
these bare feet are going to beat all three of you up so badly, that you will
never dream of doing this again. Then you will tell me why you are doing this.
And finally, I will throw all three of you in the dumpster outside. They pick
the trash up in twenty minutes. And that is right where you losers belong."

It was supposed to be a simple job. Hold the karate bitch at gunpoint, rape
her, kill her, trash the place. That would send the message. But now one of
them was lying on the ground with a broken wrist.

Both of the men grabbed for their guns. They'd all come armed.

Kara grinned. It was like they were moving in slow-motion.

HYA! Her left foot kicked one of the guns (Which went flying across the room)
while her right hand bladed the other gun. It fell to the ground, where Kara's
right foot kicked it away.

Now the fear was present. The two attackers still standing now did not care
about the job they'd been paid to do. They just wanted to get away with their
lives. Their misogyny was gone, as well. They came in thinking a karate bitch
was funny. Now, this gorgeous woman in front of them filled them with terror.
And rightfully so.

Kara's face remained stoic (an amazing poker player, as well). Inside, though,
she enjoyed what she was watching. What was it about guys and their attitudes
toward women? She'd watched the same flow of emotions in every fight she'd
ever been in. (Except the rape ... but she'd forgiven herself for that ... and
she'd certainly dished out payback to those guys!) When she was in a fight,
her male attacker would always look like he thought this would be easy. Then
when things started to go south, she would see disbelief. How could a WOMAN be
doing this? And finally fear. Fear with the knowledge that this would could
kill them with ease. Of course, Kara would never do that. But she would beat
them up so badly, that they would be in physical therapy for a very long time.
Kara would do that gladly if it were warranted. And when three men burst into
a woman's place of business, threaten her with rape/murder/destruction of
property ... three orders of unbearable pain coming right up!)

Both men withdrew their knives. But it was wobbly, slow. Their hands were
shaking with fear. Boy, they took forever. Kara had plenty of time to grab a
wooden stick from the ground (she always practiced a different weapon each
day) and with one SWOOSH both knives were flying across the room.

Kara dropped the stick to the ground. Her fists rose to a fighting stance. Her
feet stood firmly on the ground. A funny thing, Kara was one of the most
beautiful women on the planet. She was also one of the most caring. As a
mother, wife, educator, volunteer in the community, philanthropist, her life
was all about giving. Yet this beautiful woman could be the most terrifying
sight in the world when evil realized that the giving which was about to occur
was a one-sided distribution of pain. And then Kara said one word ...
"BAREFOOTIN'!"

Bare feet are special for women. Women should be barefoot. It is natural to
them. Shoes constrain. Even flip-flops keep their soles from the ground. A
truly barefooted woman is proud, strong, beautiful, elegant, righteous, and
free. Her soul and soles tell her what must be done. A barefooted woman is a
beacon of hope to her husband, children, community. A growing trend is
occurring. Women everywhere are realizing their strength and decency by
permanently freeing their beautiful feet and using them to beat evil to a
pulp. And when they do, one word signifies this: "BAREFOOTIN'!" It means "I
know the power of bare feet and I'm gonna have fun beating you senseless, you
evil piece of shit!" And with that, Kara began.

"HI-YAAAA!" Kara leapt into the air. Both legs chambered and shot out, her
feet flexed, her toes bent back. CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!! In midair, Kara kicked both
of the standing men in the face with all her might. That was something Kara
regretted. Back in the good old days, when she'd beat up bullies in high
school, she took her time. She would stretch the beating out as long as
possible to maximize the utter humiliation. Now, she was just too strong and
fast. Every ass-whooping she'd dished out, whether in the ring or on the
street, was quick. Her opponents were defeated (with incredibly severe
injuries) within a minute. It was at this moment that her rape flashed through
her head. The one time she had let herself lose. And she hadn't even fought
back. She was too scared by the gun and the knife. Kara put that thought out
of her head. She wouldn't want to be thinking about that while she beat this
guy or else he might wind up dead.

The thug whose face had met her left foot was lying on the ground. Nose
broken, front teeth shattered, blood all over the place. Crying like a baby.
She put grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him to standing.

"No, please!" he begged, but she wasn't listening. Her left, then her right
buried itself in his gut. He bent over, starting to wretch. Kara felt the
energy in her toes, shoot up through her body into an uppercut of such power
that her right fist smacked his head back into the wall. CRACK! (she'd have to
fix the hole in the wall later.) Then her fists went to work on his face.
Punches thrown so quickly that the human eye could barely register. Especially
not his, which would be swollen shut for days. Jaw broken. No remaining front
teeth. Then her bare feet did their thing. Her left heel shattered the ribs on
one side, then the other. It then shattered his kneecaps. Then Kara held him
up and drove her knee into his groin so many times. Needless to say, he didn't
have sex again for a very long time.

It is one thing to get beaten within an inch of your life by a woman so
obviously superior to you that there is no point to fighting back. It is
another thing entirely to see it happen to one of your fellow rapists, knowing
the angel of justice is coming for you next. Both guys lying on the ground did
two perfectly understandable things ... 1) they pissed and shat themselves in
absolute fear, 2) they both wanted desperately to get away.

Kara noticed the new odor in the room. She smiled. She always felt it was
extra points if a thug who tried to attack her became so terrified that he
lost control of his functions. Still, she took pride in the fact that nothing
bothered her feet, including her attackers' urine.

Both men ran. The wrist guy headed for the door. The other guy kicked in the
face scrambled for one of the guns on the ground. Of course, in full health,
these guys were snails compared to Kara. Injured?

Kara released her current victim (lucky for him, he was unconscious at this
point) and ran across the room toward the guy headed for the gun. Almost as an
aside, without even looking, she leapt into the air and shot her right bare
foot out toward the guy running for the door. Kara grinned as she felt her
foot connect with the face, break the nose, and shatter teeth. That guy was
now on the ground, screaming in pain over his shattered face AND broken wrist.

As the other guy picked up the gun, Kara's right foot landed in his face. His
head flew back and hit the wall, his hand released the gun. He was wide open
against the wall, just inviting Kara to go to work on him. She did just that.
Barefoot style!

One foot drove into his throat. He couldn't speak for a week. It didn't help
that Kara rechambered the foot and drove it into his jaw, which was wired shut
for a long time. As Kara's left foot came down, she leapt up with her right.
The top of her foot slammed into his rib cage, shattering those. Once both
feet were back on the ground, Kara reached her hand down into his pants and
grabbed hold of his testicles.

Kara looked into his eyes which were filled with fear. She said one word:
"Why?"

"P-please! No"""

At that point, she heard the front door open. The wrist guy with the bloodied
face took off out the door in terror. Kara grumbled to herself, then turned
back to her victim against the wall. "Stay here," she ordered. She pulled her
hand out of his pants, pulled it back into a fist, and sent him off into
unconsciousness with one punch. _____

Mark Cowling was one of the most dangerous men in America. Rape, murder, he'd
done it all. So, when he got a call from a powerful business developer saying
that some karate dojo bitch refused to sell her business and was encouraging
the neighborhood to resist him, as well, he said no problem. Once he saw a
picture of Kara, he couldn't wait to rape her. He saw Youtubes of her fighting
and became obsessed with destroying her. He hated women who thought they were
superior to men. Now, the only thought in his head was absolute terror. He
fumbled with the keys to his car. His hand was broken, he couldn't get them
out of his pocket. And then the front door to the dojo opened. Kara, the most
beautiful and powerful woman alive stepped out onto the front door mat. All
that stood between him and her were 20 feet of black asphalt pavement.

Mark laughed. "Ha, ha, you tough barefoot bitch! It's 100 degrees out, and
that's black asphalt! How are you gonna get me now! Bet you wish you had a
pair of shoes! 'Cause I got an arsenal in this car. I'm gonna AR15 you and
this place into little tiny pieces!"

Then he saw something he couldn't believe. This beautiful barefooted babe
stepped one foot, and then the other onto the black asphalt. And she grinned.

Mark shat himself again. And started crying. How could everything go so wrong?

Kara padded barefootedly toward him slowly and deliberately. "I love black
asphalt in the summer. It's such a warm soothe on my bare feet. You see, the
human foot is designed by God. It's perfect. Then some idiot invented shoes.
People's feet got soft, out-of-shape. Not only that, it stifles the soul. But
if you go barefoot everywhere, running, fighting, dancing (Kara loved to
dance), then your feet become strong. Like they should be. Now," she was now
face-to-face with him, " why don't you tell me what's going on?" She pulled
out her phone and recorded.

Mark confessed everything. How a major land developer had paid him to kill
her. And every other crime he'd committed since age 12.

Kara nodded. "Good." She then propped the phone on the hood of Mark's car.
"Now it's barefootin' time."

Every family member of a person Mark had killed, every woman he'd raped, every
one of the victims whom he had just confessed, got a copy of the video. A
39-year-old woman who looked 29 using nothing but bare fists and feet beating
the living shit out of this evil man. And then, once he had two black eyes, a
broken nose, busted lips, broken jaw, no front teeth, two broken arms, two
broken legs, two shattered kneecaps, no unbroken ribs, a shattered pelvis, and
two ruptured testicles, Kara picked up this unconscious piece of shit over her
head and threw him in the dumpster. She then walked into her dojo and threw
the other two assholes (unconscious) in the trash. She then recorded the trash
truck lift this dumpster and pour its shit into its bin.

--"Mom!" cheered Katie. "you'll never believe it! I got the lead role in the
school play!"

Kara hugged Katie, now 16, and the most beautiful girl imaginable. "Where's
your sister?"

Melora,12 came out of the back room, her hands up defensively. "Look, mom,
maybe I got a little carried away on Mr. Jackson, but that sleazebag said the
only way I could get an A in his class was if I made him happy. So, I did some
investigating, and he's been molesting students for twenty years."

"Is he OK?" asked Kara.

Melora shrugged, "He'll live. But with a whole lot of pain. And before I did
anything, I got him to confess to all of it on my cell phone."

Kara hugged her daughter. "His victims deserve copies."

Melora smiled. "I know. I love you. You're the greatest Mom ever."

Kara stood up, face serious.

"I'm gonna need some help, guys. "

The girls' eyes lit up. And if Mom wanted all three of them, that meant some
serious barefooted buttkicking! ...

__

Thirty immaculately suited businessmen sat around a table. The head speaker
rose and walked to the front of the room.

"Well, I have just gotten news that Kara Berkowski is no longer an issue. I
hired three incredibly capable men."

"Did she beat the shit out of them, like she did your son?" called out one of
the men at the table. All the others laughed.

The head speaker's face turned beat red. His son was still in the hospital
from the time he tried to force Kara to sell her property.

"No, she's"""

Suddenly, the lights went out.

"Hey, what's going on?!""Turn those lights back on!"

A voice spread throughout the room on a loudspeaker. Kara was speaking in that
same tone that she always used right before beating a deserving villain to a
pulp. As always, every man in the room was filled with fear.

"Gentlemen. My name is Kara Berkowski. I am a hard-working small business
owner in this community. The three men you sent to kill me are now in the
hospital. They have confessed everything to the police. My 12-year-old
daughter is a computer genius. She has uncovered evidence of your plans to
drive people from this community so you can build condos. Every business owner
in this community you have harassed has spoken to the police. Every single one
you will be arrested within the hour. But before that, myself, my 12-year-old
daughter, my 16-year-old daughter are going to beat all thirty of you into
bloody pulps."

The lights came on. Kara, Katie and Melora all stood by the front door. All
barefoot. All beautiful.

Kara put down her microphone.

"Ready girls? 3 women, thirty men. It was so unfair. The men didn't stand a
chance.

Police Chief Ramirez had never arrested thirty men at one time. He had never
arrested thirty millionaires at one time. And he had definitely never had to
ship thirty arrestees in ambulances to the emergency room as they begged him
to let them confess to everything they had ever done wrong.

Women are intuitive creatures. They understand good and evil. They understand
right and wrong. They deserve to be barefoot and free. And when that happens,
evil doesn't stand a chance.

BAREFOOTIN'!