Brutal Surprise
By GAR
A dominant wife confronts her husband’s lover
   


   Leonard whipped the black BMW into the gas station and screeched the 
car to a lurching halt.  He looked at his watch and then down at the 
dashboard clock for the tenth time in the last five minutes, as if constantly 
checking the time would change the fact that it was 2:30 in the morning. 
Christ, this was bad, he thought, he was over two hours later than he said he 
would be.  His heart pounding, he jumped from the car and hurried to the 
men’s room door, only to find it locked with a beat up sign reading 
"Customers Only."  Some kid had scratched "fuck you" into the white paint 
below the message.  He tried opening it anyway, throwing his shoulder 
against it as he jiggled the knob with frustration, but the metal door did not 
give.  "Absolutely right," he said to himself as he stomped away, "fuck me."   
   He went around to the office.  A fat, balding guy with about three days 
growth of beard and a cigar stub in his mouth sat with his feet on the desk, 
his face stuffed in a girlie mag.  "Manny" was embroidered over the pocket 
on his grease-stained blue shirt.  Leonard glanced nervously at his watch 
again.  "Bathroom," he said as demandingly as he could muster, but the fat 
guy didn’t even look up at him.  "Customers only," Manny grunted in a raspy 
voice, "read the sign."  He pulled the magazine closer as if to emphasize he 
would not acknowledge Leonard unless he bought something, and Leonard 
began to wonder if wasn’t big Manny who scratched the telling message on 
the bathroom door.  He didn’t have time for debate, however, so he grabbed 
the can of oil at the top of the neatly stacked pyramid in the window and 
slapped a five down on the desk.  "Keep the change," Leonard said 
hurriedly, "key."  Moving at the speed of a tortoise, Manny opened a drawer 
and fished out the key, never taking his eyes off the bimbo of the month.  
   It was a typical gas station bathroom, dimly lit with a slimy white tile floor 
and the smell of a stagnant sewer.  Shards of toilet paper littered the floor, 
and wadded up paper towels lay around the overflowing trash can in the 
corner.  Ordinarily this would repel Leonard, but on this night he barely 
noticed.  Any place with a sink and a mirror would do.  He was already in 
trouble because of the time, he didn’t need to compound the problem by 
displaying any evidence of where he’d been.  He leaned close to the mirror, 
carefully examining the collar of his white dress shirt.  Good, no lipstick or 
makeup.  Running his fingers through his sandy blond hair, he checked his 
face over thoroughly and felt his heart leap.  Sure enough, a touch of 
Marcie’s makeup was smeared below his right ear.  He wetted a towel and 
scrubbed it off; checking, scrubbing, rechecking, making absolutely certain 
there was no trace of it left on his face.  His mouth went dry and his hands 
began to tremble at the thought of missing something.  He was certain Jenna 
would be looking him over quite carefully, coming home so late and all.  He 
dared not let her find out he’d been with Marcie, as much for Marcie’s sake 
as for his own.
   His concern was borne of memories always in the forefront of his 
consciousness.  He had met Jenna shortly after his fiancée at the time, a 
sweet blonde girl named Kristin, had inexplicably broken their engagement.  
Kristen was a demure, wholesome, girl-next-door type who fit perfectly with 
Leonard’s traditional view of male-female relationships, and she had seemed 
so happy to be marrying him.  She shared his spacious home in an upscale 
neighborhood, doting on him, cooking his meals and running his errands 
when she wasn’t working.  She spoke often of bearing his children and 
staying home to raise them, easily accomplished with Leonard’s six figure 
salary.  He was so happy to have found someone who shared his somewhat 
old-fashioned approach to marriage.  Her decision to end their engagement 
had come out of the blue and had shocked and anguished him.  The fact 
that she had done it over the telephone, refusing to see Leonard or answer 
any of his pleading questions, had made his devastation even more 
complete.  
   Then Jenna entered the picture.  She was a secretary at the advertising 
firm where Leonard was a vice president.  She had even worked for Kristin 
for a short time while Kristin was an account executive at the same firm.  
Jenna seemed exactly what Leonard needed at the time.  Where Kristin was 
a quiet, old-fashioned type of girl, Jenna was the exact opposite, outgoing 
and confident.  She was also a stark physical contrast to Kristin.  Jenna was 
5’11" tall and 165 lbs, with thick dark hair and a dark complexion.  While 
Kristin was of average height and build, Jenna worked hard to maintain her 
well-muscled 38D-25-36 figure.  She gave off an aura of exotic sexuality with 
her husky, sultry voice and her big dark eyes.  When Jenna approached 
Leonard for the first time and asked him out, two weeks after Kristin’s "Dear 
John" phone call, he felt very flattered and readily accepted, eager to put the 
pain of Kristin’s rejection behind him.
   Their courtship was mostly conventional.  Like Kristen, Jenna assumed the 
role of the "little woman" and allowed Leonard to be "her man", asking for his 
help with minor repairs at her condo, on her car, etc.  She deferred to 
Leonard almost always, but sometimes used her "feminine wiles" to get her 
way if need be.  Leonard, of course, realized it when it was happening and 
always took it good-naturedly.  Kristin had been that way too, and he 
enjoyed playing the role game.  Jenna often told Leonard how she looked up 
to him, how she admired his career accomplishments.  Jenna even referred 
to Leonard as her "big strong man", even though she was an inch taller and 
about the same weight as he was.  
   Leonard found their sex incredible.  He enjoyed being dominating in bed, 
and Jenna seemed to respond to it even better than Kristin had.  He would 
climb on top of her, grab her by the hair and demand that she please him.  
Jenna would pretend to struggle, pleading with him to be gentle, and then he 
would plunge himself inside her with all the strength and power he thought 
she could take.  Having a woman his size "at his mercy" made Leonard feel 
so powerful, so masterful.  He would fuck her furiously while she writhed and 
moaned with pleasure and they would climax together in a sweaty, 
breathless fury.  She would lay there next to him afterwards, her head on his 
shoulder, telling him how thrilling it was to be with a "real man" who knew 
how to make her respond so passionately.  His self-confidence, shattered by 
Kristen’s sudden rejection, soared to new heights.  Leonard thought himself 
the luckiest man alive.  He thought Kristen had actually done him a favor.
     After three months, he demanded she move in with him and she dutifully 
obeyed, gushing in an almost little-girl voice how happy she was to have 
found "the man of her dreams" and how well she planned to "take care of his 
needs".  Emotionally overwhelmed by it all, he asked her to marry him the 
first night she moved in.  Jenna coyly said she needed to think it over, that it 
was too early in their relationship, but Leonard was so certain she would 
accept he went out the very next day and spent $3000 on a 3-karat 
engagement ring.  When he presented it to her that night before dinner, she 
fell into his arms and proclaimed her happiness at finding the right man to 
take care of her for the rest of her life.  That very weekend they ran down to 
the courthouse and were married.
   It was then, on their wedding night, that Leonard’s life as he had known it 
ended.
   The memory was still so vivid, six and a half years later.  He was sitting 
naked on the side of the bed, waiting for Jenna to emerge from the 
bathroom.  She had promised him a "big surprise", and Leonard could hardly 
wait to see what she had in store for him.  He pictured her in one of those 
little sex kitten outfits they had seen together in the catalogs that came in the 
mail, or perhaps in some regal, flowing fairy-tale-wedding-night gown.  Or 
maybe she would just emerge stark naked and offer her strong sexy body up 
to him for his pleasure.  Whatever her plan, he couldn’t control his 
excitement as he sat there impatiently playing with his raging hard-on.  
When the door finally opened, Leonard had the shock of his life.
   Jenna had completely transformed.  She wore a leather thong bikini that 
barely covered her voluptuous assets.  A pair of thigh-high leather boots 
with stilletto heels made her height at least 6’ 3".  Her shiny dark hair hung 
wildly around her shoulders, partially obscuring her face.  She had on far 
more makeup than Leonard had ever seen her wear - thick black eyeliner 
and blood-red lipstick - and she had a fierce, menacing look on her face.  
She stood towering in the doorway in a seductive pose; her ass cocked to 
one side, one arm up over her head leaning on the doorjamb, her other hand 
on her hip.  A pair of black leather gloves dangled from the hand above her 
head.  The well-toned muscles in her shoulders, arms and abdomen 
appeared even more solid and pronounced than they ordinarily did.  She 
glared at Leonard with her threatening expression and all he could do was 
look back dumbfounded, his hard cock now at full attention.
   "I’m ready for you now, Leonard," she said in a low voice, stepping out of 
the doorway and striding slowly towards him, "It’s time for you to get to know 
the real me."  She stopped inches away from him, again cocking those hips 
to one side and casually sliding on the leather gloves.
   "The ‘real’ you?" Leonard asked somewhat hesitantly, not sure of which 
direction Jenna was taking this, "What is the ‘real’ you?"
   Jenna sighed.  "Now that you’re mine, we need to make some changes in 
our relationship, Leonard."  Her voice was now softer, but still very matter-of-
fact.  "We need to establish the rules."
   "Rules?" he asked, still unsure of what was going on.
   "Yes, Leonard, the rules.  Like who’s going to call the shots in this 
marriage.  Who the boss is."
She finished pulling on the gloves and moved her hands to her hips.  "Who 
commands and who obeys." 
   Jenna had never so much as hinted she was into this sort of thing, but the 
sight of her in her leather outfit coupled with her cocky attitude intrigued 
Leonard.  In fact, it excited him.
   "Oooo...I like this game," he smiled.  "And the ‘boss’ would be you?"
   "This is no game, Leonard," she growled.  She roughly cupped his jaw in 
her strong, leather-clad hand.  "Now I have your money, your house...and I 
have you."
    Leonard remembered how incredibly turned on he had become, certain it 
was an act Jenna had dreamed up to make their wedding night exciting.  He 
was all too eager to play.   He had never much thought of being submissive 
to any woman, however.  He figured it would be more exciting for them both 
if he "tamed" her, if he put the "dominatrix" in her place and had his way with 
her.  He would show her who the boss was, all right.  He would show her 
and she would love it, like she always did.
   The memory of his stupidity made him wince.
   He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away as he stood up, puffing out 
his chest and pressing it against her.  In her high-heeled boots, she was a 
full head taller than he was.  "I’ll show you who’s in charge around here, you 
bi..."
   He was cut off suddenly by the heel of Jenna’s right hand slamming into 
his jaw, sending him sprawling flat on his back on the bed.  Leonard had 
never been hit so hard in his life.  He lay there stunned as the pain bounced 
through his head.  The edges of his vision became dark as he gazed up at 
the spinning ceiling, his head rolling from side to side as he struggled to 
remain conscious.  Gradually the haze lifted, and his physical pain gave way 
to emotional shock.  Jenna had actually hit him!  What was she thinking?  
He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at her in bewilderment.  
"Jesus, sweetheart, what the hell do you think you’re doing?" he asked 
incredulously.
   Her voice became low again, the threatening look returning to her face.  "I 
told you sweetheart," she answered, the word dripping with sarcasm, "you 
need to understand who the boss is going to be in this marriage.  You need 
to learn that whatever I command you to do you will do.  From now on you 
exist to please me, and you will do so without question."  She put one foot up 
on the bed and leaned forward, resting one arm on her knee.  "I know this is 
rather sudden, darling," she said,  "but out of all my puny sissy-men you 
make the most money…" She licked her lips seductively.  "…and have the 
biggest cock."  She turned away and casually strode over to the full-length 
mirror on the back of the bedroom door.  She gazed upon herself admiringly, 
primping her hair as she stuck her full, red lips out in a seductive pout.  She 
looked over at him in the mirror.  "By the end of our ‘honeymoon’ you’ll 
accept it."  She turned around and strode back to the foot of the bed with a 
knowing smile.  "You’ll have no choice but to accept it."
   His mind reeling, Leonard slid his feet to the floor and stepped around to 
approach her.  "I don’t know what you think you’re doing," he said as he 
drew near her, "but if you think…"  Again he was cut off, this time by a left 
hook that slammed into the side of his head with jackhammer force, sending 
him crashing to the carpet.  He lay there on his side, again fighting 
unconsciousness, his darkening field of vision filled with Jenna’s stiletto 
heels stepping around him.  Her voice was calm as she spoke.  "You have 
no idea, Leonard…how hard it was to let a pussy like you dominate me."  
Her boots stopped directly in front of his face, pointed towards him.  "That’s 
all over, now.  I got what I was after."  He felt the grip of her hand in his hair, 
and his scalp was on fire with pain as she hauled him up on his knees, 
holding him upright.  She yanked his head back, forcing his gaze up into her 
face.  "Submit to me, Leonard," she commanded, "Now.  Let me hear you 
say it."
   The pain wracking his head and the tone of Jenna’s voice caused the 
realization to quickly set in for Leonard.  Jenna wasn’t playing.  He 
remembered the anguish he felt as it fully set in.  His anger at himself for 
being so gullible.  She had set him up good.  Everything he had believed 
about her was a lie.  He had shared his innermost self with her, and she had 
used him for his money, for material things.  How could she do this?  He 
loved her.  She had said so many times how much she loved him.  He had 
agreed to spend the rest of his life with her.  Jenna had used the horrible 
thing Kristen had done to him to take advantage of him, to hurt him all over 
again.  It was all too much.  And what Jenna was doing was worse.  Kristen 
had broken his heart, but Jenna was humiliating him as well.  Ridiculing his 
manhood.  He fought back the urge to cry.
   Then another feeling rose inside him.  Anger.  Rage.  Was he not a man?  
Was he going to let a woman treat him this way and get away with it?  No!  
Jenna might think she’s tough, he remembered thinking, but he would show 
her who the man was.  He would put a stop to this!  He would put her in her 
place, then throw her out on her shapely ass.  The marriage could be 
annulled.  Or maybe he would make her his slave.  Force her to service him 
as he saw fit.  Either way, he would teach her to fuck with his feelings!  The 
bitch was going to pay.
   "Fuck you," he growled, and lunged forward to wrap his arms around 
Jenna’s legs.  The last vivid memory he had of that first night was her 
leather-clad knee coming up to meet his onrushing face.  
   It was the memories that followed, the blur of pain and fear, that played in 
his mind as he turned the BMW into his neighborhood that night.  Jenna 
hauled him to his feet.  He remembered swinging at her with his fists, but 
she deftly blocked or ducked each blow, merely laughing at his efforts at 
first, then returning each missed swing with a wicked counter punch to his 
face, his head, his body.  She beat him viciously.  Her fists, her knees, her 
feet – all easily found their targets, despite Leonard’s best efforts to ward 
her off.  His resolve turned to sheer terror as she destroyed his helpless 
body, taunting him over his inability to stop her.  He remembered hearing his 
own voice, raspy and feeble, begging her, pleading with her to stop torturing 
him.  Agreeing to whatever she wanted from him.  Her laughter sounded far-
off, echoing in the recesses of Leonard’s terrified mind as she continued her 
relentless assault on him, pounding him literally senseless.  He remembered 
being once again sprawled on his bed, her sculptured body astride his chest 
as she pulled his face up into her wet, pungent crotch, moaning in pleasure 
as she moved her full weight forward on his head.  He remembered the 
pressure increasing as she ground herself down on him, his nose and mouth 
nestling in her dripping slit as he struggled in vain to breathe.  
   Then he remembered nothing.
   The memories of the next morning were much clearer.  He awoke to find 
himself lying on his side on the carpet, his hands and feet tightly bound.  
Any hopes he had of running away would have to wait.  His body painfully 
reminding him of Jenna’s fury, he struggled to a sitting position to see the 
bed had been slept in, but empty.  He felt dizzy and weak, and he slumped 
sideways into the nightstand.  It was then that he saw the phone jack 
hanging out of the wall, and realized it was the telephone cord that was 
digging into his ankles.  His wrists, too, no doubt, but they were behind his 
back.  The bitch thought of everything - no chance of him calling for help, 
either.  He tried to clear his head, to think of a way out, but there was 
nothing he could do, at least for the time being.  Slowly, he became aware of 
Jenna’s lilting voice coming from the bathroom, humming contentedly to 
herself.
    He peered over the bed to look at her through the partially open door.  
She was standing in front of the mirror, again primping her hair, wearing 
nothing but the leather thong from the night before, admiring her own body.  
The sight of her statuesque frame, which before had been such a turn-on for 
Leonard, now made him recoil instinctively with fear.  He pushed against the 
nightstand and sent the phone crashing to the floor.
   She looked over at him in the mirror, a cocky smile spreading over her 
face.  "Oh, you’re awake," she said cheerfully.  She turned and entered the 
bedroom, striding slowly to where Leonard sat trembling.  "How did you 
sleep, darling?"  She knelt beside him and her smile turned to a look of mock 
concern as she gently cradled his chin in her hand.  "Oh, poor baby.  I’m 
afraid I’ve made quite a mess of you.  Come see."  She took Leonard’s arm 
and effortlessly pulled him to his feet, dragging him towards the bathroom as 
he hopped along beside her, his body aching horribly.  Once inside the 
bathroom she pushed him roughly to his knees in front of the mirror and 
again cupped his face in her powerful hand.
   What he saw shocked him.  Both eyes were blackened and swollen.  Ugly 
bruises covered his cheeks and his jaw.  His lips were swollen and split in 
several places, and little lines of dried blood ran down his chin and from both 
nostrils.  Jenna looked seductively down at him in the mirror, absently 
fingering one of her erect nipples.  "It makes me so hot, pussy boy" she said 
breathlessly, "seeing what I’ve done to you."  She grabbed his hair and 
yanked him back away from the mirror, then forced him to bend his head 
down.  "And that big, strong body of yours," she mocked, "it’s all…beat up."  
Leonard gasped at the sight of the dark welts and bruises that covered his 
upper body and thighs.  The fear was rising in him again.  He tried to pull 
away but she pulled him back to her, the side of his face against her rock-
hard abdomen.  She was so strong, so dominating.  He remembered he 
could almost sense the power rippling through her steel-like abs.  He felt 
worthless and weak.  "Now we both know who owns you, Leonard," she said 
softly.  She lifted her foot and dug her toe into one of the purple welts on his 
thigh, twisting it in deep, causing him to shake uncontrollably as the pain 
shot through him.  "Don’t we?"  With a loud moan, he tried again to pull away 
from her, but she nuzzled his face tighter against her belly and pushed her 
toe even deeper into the tender, bruised flesh.  "Don’t we?" she asked again, 
her tone now demanding, threatening.  He could stand the pain no longer.  
"Y-yes," he replied, whimpering, "y-y-you do."  
   She released him and stepped back, gazing down as if in a trance at his 
shaking form.  Her hand went back to fingering her nipple.  "Very good, 
pussy boy," she said, her voice once more becoming soft, "Now I have 
another surprise for you."  She again hauled him up by the arm and dragged 
him back to the bedroom.  Easily holding him up with one hand, she reached 
over and dragged Leonard’s desk chair to the center of the room, facing the 
television, and shoved him down into it.  "There’s something special I want 
you to see, darling," she smiled.  She took a video tape off the top of the TV 
and slipped it in the player, switched on the television and stepped around 
behind Leonard’s chair.
   The static cleared to reveal what looked like a living room.  Light blue 
carpet with white drapes in the background, with a wall on the right side of 
the screen.  In the foreground against the wall was a small desk with a lamp 
and a telephone.  It looked familiar to Leonard, but he couldn’t quite place it.  
The image shifted down a bit, and then he heard Jenna’s voice, very close to 
the camera.  "There," she said in a sarcastically sweet voice, "all set.  Now, 
where were we?"  As she spoke, her voice trailed off, as if she was moving 
away from where the camera sat.
   Then he became aware of another voice.  Moaning softly, broken up with 
sobs and words spoken in a high pitched panic, words he couldn’t quite 
make out.  A female voice.  Like the room, it seemed somehow familiar.  
Then Jenna spoke again.  "Get up, honey," she said.  The panicked tone of 
the other voice went up sharply.  "No!  P-please, noooo!"  Then there was a 
loud smack, and a blonde woman literally flew into the picture, slamming into 
the wall with a thud, ending up in a sitting position, her legs folded beneath 
her.  Her head slumped to one side, facing the camera.  Leonard’s jaw 
dropped in shock.
   It was Kristen! 
   Like Leonard, she was a mess.  Blood ran from both her nostrils.  Her nose 
was badly swollen, obviously broken, and her eyes were blackened and 
swollen almost shut.  Her lips looked literally shredded, and her entire chin 
was covered with blood.  There were nasty dark welts on both cheeks.  She 
was stark naked, and her body was covered with at least twice as many 
marks as Leonard’s, especially her breasts.  Once firm and proud, they now 
sagged down on her heaving midsection as she knelt there against the wall, 
appearing barely conscious.
   He remembered the desperation that overwhelmed him as the full picture 
took shape.  Jenna had done this to Kristen, too!  She had targeted them, 
used them for her own selfish purposes.  He and Kristen had both been 
made to suffer for her pleasure and personal gain.  She even had the gall to 
videotape it!  No wonder Kristen left him!  "You bitch," he hissed at Jenna, 
"you fucking bitch!"  He heard her chuckle softly.  "Watch this now, 
Leonard," she said softly into his ear, "watch carefully."  She grabbed his 
hair from behind, making sure his face was pointed toward the screen.    
   Jenna entered the picture, casually striding to where Kristen sat, and stood 
defiantly over her.  She wore simply a black bra, a tight black miniskirt and 
black stiletto pumps, along with the leather gloves.  There was not a mark on 
her near-perfect body that Leonard could see.  She reached down and 
effortlessly yanked Kristen up by the hair as though the blonde were a rag 
doll.  Then she shoved her left hand under Kristen’s jaw, slamming her head 
back into the wall and pinning her there upright, on her feet.  Kristen barely 
came up to Jenna’s shoulders.  She looked so small, so pathetic next to 
Jenna’s tall, muscular body.  Jenna smiled down at her like a mean kid 
ready to pull the wings off a fly.
   Then Jenna slammed her right fist into Kristen’s midsection, causing the 
blonde to let out a muffled moan through her clenched teeth.  Leonard 
winced at the sight of her slender body flopping against the wall.  Kristen 
made no attempt to defend herself.  The big brunette cruelly went to work on 
her beaten, defenseless body, plowing her fist into her belly, ribs, and 
breasts with the force of a piledriver, over and over.  Kristen hung there 
helplessly absorbing each crushing punch with muffled shrieks and moans.  
Pinned against the wall, there was no way for her body to "give," nowhere for 
it to go, increasing the devastating force of Jenna’s blows.   
   The smile never left Jenna’s face.  Her eyes had a glazed look to them, 
widening with excitement each time her fist disappeared into Kristen’s soft 
flesh.  Leonard could see her erect nipples poking out the fabric of her bra.  
"He’s watching," Jenna said, pushing Kristen’s head back harder as she 
backhanded one of her sagging breasts, "he’s watching me take him from 
you."  She threw another hard belly punch.  "He’s seeing what a weakling 
bitch you are."  Kristen pleaded through her clenched teeth for mercy, but 
Jenna just smiled and brought her knee up deep into Kristen’s lower 
abdomen, causing Kristen’s knees to finally buckle.  Jenna held her up tight; 
almost the full pressure of the blonde’s weight rested on her jaw.  Her body 
convulsed frantically.  Her bruised cheeks puffed in and out as she struggled 
to breathe.
   Leonard remembered squirming in the chair, gripped with fear, as he 
watched the image of Jenna holding Kristen against the wall for what 
seemed like an eternity.  He had wondered if he was about to witness 
Kristen’s death.  Behind him, he could hear Jenna breathing deeply, aroused 
by watching herself destroy his former fiancée.
   Then Jenna suddenly released Kristen and let her slump to the carpet.  
She lay there on her side, gasping and moaning in agony, clutching at her 
breasts and midsection.  Jenna stood over her, hands on hips, gazing down 
contentedly at the quivering, whimpering blonde.  "What a pathetic little 
bitch," she said disdainfully, "the two of you would’ve deserved each other."  
She turned and approached the camera, reaching out to it, and the screen 
went back to static.
   A couple of seconds later the image flickered back up.  The same scene, 
except once again the room looked empty.  Then he heard whimpering 
moans off camera, growing louder as Jenna and a still naked Kristen 
entered the picture.  Jenna had the blonde’s arm twisted high up behind her 
back, and she was forcing Kristen to walk forward toward the desk.  Kristen’s 
back was arched as she tried to relieve the pressure on her arm, her 
battered tits thrusting out and flopping around as the bigger woman marched 
her forward.  
   Jenna was dressed differently.  She wore a red bikini top with matching 
leather hot pants and stiletto heels, along with the black leather gloves.  
Leonard noticed Kristen didn’t look quite as badly beaten, and he surmised 
what he was seeing must have happened some time after the vicious 
pounding he had witnessed Jenna give his poor girl.
   On screen, Jenna shoved Kristen down into the desk chair, and slid the 
phone around in front of her.  "Pick it up, slut," she commanded, and Kristen 
did not hesitate.  "Yes, mistress," she said meekly.  She put the receiver to 
her ear.  "Dial," Jenna ordered.  "Yes, mistress," and Kristen dutifully began 
pushing buttons.  Leonard began shaking his head and moaning – he knew 
what he was about to see.
  His heart sank as he witnessed Kristen’s end of her "Dear John" phone 
call.  He now fully realized the depth of Jenna’s heartlessness.  He could 
hear her laughing softly behind him.  He choked up, tears welling in his 
eyes; he tried to hold them back but his shoulders heaved as he began 
sobbing, quietly at first, then louder as the pain and helplessness completely 
overwhelmed him.  "No, Leonard," Kristen was saying on the screen, 
responding to his pleas for her to reconsider.  Jenna leaned down and 
whispered something in her ear.  Then Kristen spoke.  "I don’t want you 
anymore," she said into the phone.  He remembered how that had made him 
feel, and finding out it had been scripted by this cruel bitch who had so 
totally deceived him made it all the more bitter.  
   When Kristen hung up, Jenna ordered her to her knees.  "Yes, mistress," 
she again responded, and slid out of the chair to a kneeling position before 
Jenna.  Jenna motioned toward her red leather hot pants.  "Remove them," 
she demanded, and Kristen reached up and unfastened them, sliding them 
down Jenna’s long, muscular legs.  Jenna wore nothing underneath.  She 
stepped out of them and grabbed the back of Kristen’s hair.  "Beg to please 
me with your mouth, slut," she ordered.  Kristen’s response was immediate.  
"I’m begging to please you with my mouth, mistress," she said meekly, as 
Jenna pulled her face up into her crotch.  She placed one foot up on the 
desk chair, spreading her slit wider, nuzzling the blonde’s nose and mouth 
into her dripping pussy.  Jenna looked straight into the camera.  "See how 
I’ve trained her?" she said on the tape, the smile returning to her face.  "See 
how helpless she is?  How pathetic?  This will be you by the end of our 
‘honeymoon.’"  She wriggled her hips back and forth and pulled up harder on 
Kristen’s hair, burying her face deep into her crotch.  "Now watch me come 
all over the puny bitch."  Leonard again could hear Jenna chuckling softly 
behind him as he continued sobbing; forced to watch for what seemed like 
hours as Jenna totally used poor Kristen for her pleasure.
   When Jenna finally started to come, she brought her foot down, grabbed 
Kristen’s hair with both hands and dropped to her knees, doubling the 
blonde back on her own legs and slamming her head into the floor beneath 
her.  She savagely ground her crotch down into the helpless girl, throwing 
her head back and moaning in ecstasy as her juices streamed into Kristen’s 
face.  Her hips bucked forward in quick movements as her orgasm peaked, 
then gradually quieted to a gentle swirling rotation as her pleasure level 
diminished.  She raised her head back up and shifted her weight forward as 
she came down from the throes of her climax, her hands resting on the 
carpet above the mop of blonde hair on Kristen’s obscured head.  
   Finished with her prey, Jenna sat there breathing heavily as she glared 
menacingly into the camera.  Kristen was struggling beneath her for 
breathing room, but Jenna shifted herself back and forth slightly, keeping 
Kristen’s face firmly planted in her pussy.  It was this image Leonard 
remembered the most vividly – the fierce dominatrix sitting triumphantly 
astride her victim, her sexual demands fulfilled against her victim’s will.
   Jenna stepped around Leonard and switched off the tape.  She ejected it 
and laid it back on top of the TV.  "I convinced her it was in her best interests 
to keep what happened between us," she said, still facing the television.  
"She moved away the next week."  She turned and moved toward Leonard, 
the smile again on her lips.  "I helped her pack."  She stopped and stood 
over him, feet apart, straddling his knees.  She looked so powerful, so 
majestic.  Leonard looked up at her magnificent body through his tear-filled 
eyes, the hate, fear, and humiliation welling up inside him.  He wanted so 
badly to lash out at her, to punish her for doing this to him and to Kristen.  
He began to struggle against his bonds, overwhelmed by emotion, twisting 
about in the chair as Jenna gazed down at him as if in a trance.  Her eyes 
were bright with excitement.  She reached down and pulled the leather thong 
to one side, then began to run her finger up and down her crotch slowly, her 
tongue flicking at her lips.  Leonard’s vain thrashings became more violent 
as his growls of frustration mixed with his heaving sobs.  "It makes me so 
wet, Leonard," Jenna said breathily, "Finally seeing you in your place.  
Beneath me - helpless." Leonard abruptly became still, his energy spent, his 
head lowered as his entire body heaved with uncontrolled sobs.
  Jenna placed her fingertips beneath Leonard’s jaw and turned his head up.  
He looked up into her smiling face pleadingly, his lips quivering, tears 
running down his cheeks.  She then lowered herself slowly onto his lap.  
Leonard grunted with pain as her full weight settled on his bruised thighs.  
He continued to cry quietly.  "Do you understand now, pussy boy?" she 
asked, gently stroking his hair, "you never had a chance once I made up my 
mind to take you.  Neither did your mousy little girlfriend."  She reached 
down with her other hand and cupped his balls, gently at first, then began 
squeezing them.  "You are my property now, Leonard – all mine," she said.  
She began increasing the pressure.  Leonard’s body stiffened, his sobs 
becoming halting gasps as the pain started creeping through him.  "Your 
money, your house, you…all mine."  She gripped his balls tighter, and 
Leonard started trembling.  "And let what I did to little Kristen be a lesson, 
pussy boy.  Any whore you fuck around with is going to end up like her, only 
worse."  She gave a sharp squeeze, bringing a shriek of pain from Leonard 
as he convulsed in agony.  The look of amusement remained on Jenna’s 
face as she finished speaking.  "Not to mention it will cost you one of these."  
She gave one last, hard squeeze, then released him and stood up, smiling 
down at him as he dropped his head, whimpering like a baby in helpless 
humiliation.
   He spent the rest of that day naked and bound as Jenna used him for her 
sex toy, and as the days wore on the mental and physical abuse she heaped 
upon Leonard took its toll.  His feeble attempts at resistance were useless.  
She repeatedly proved herself superior to him in every way, driving the point 
home viciously, mercilessly – mentally and physically.  By the time their 
three-week "honeymoon" had ended she had completely broken his will to 
resist her.  She succeeded in filling his heart with pain and fear, and used it 
to turn him into a reluctant but willing slave to her every desire.  For him, the 
last six and a half years had been one long training lesson.  A very painful 
one.
   These were the memories that relentlessly haunted Leonard.  The 
memories of how his life had become a living hell at the hands of the cruel 
woman that pretended to be his wife.  He had finally found a respite from his 
hell, if even for a short time, and he dared not let Jenna learn of it.  For 
Marcie’s sake as well as his own.
   These were the thoughts that plagued him as he pulled into his driveway 
that night, coming home to whatever horrible fate Jenna had waiting for him.


   Jenna looked up at the clock on the mantle impatiently.  The house was 
dark, save for the flickering firelight bathing her muscular, naked body as 
she leaned back in the overstuffed chair.  She clamped her powerful thighs 
tighter around Juanita’s head and buried her fingers into the kneeling 
woman’s dark hair, her blood red nails digging into her scalp, then yanking 
up hard she wriggled Juanita’s nose and mouth deeper into her crotch.  She 
settled back and closed her eyes as Juanita’s tongue flicked obediently in 
and out of her moist hole.  She gained little solace from it, however.  Her 
seething anger went unabated.
   On top of everything else, there it was past 2:30!  What was Leonard 
thinking?  How dare he treat her this way, especially knowing what would 
inevitably happen.  Had he lost his mind?  Or after all this time perhaps he 
had come to enjoy the pain.
   Had he learned nothing from the punishment she had inflicted on him, that 
he had seen her inflict on others?  Like Kristen.  Or Barbara what’s-her-
name, the big redheaded tramp from the office that had dared suggest that 
Leonard run off with her.  Jenna remembered it all too well.  The bitch 
thought she was hot shit - an ex-professional wrestler who moonlighted 
teaching self-defense at the local gym.  Jenna thought of how angry she had 
become upon learning of Leonard’s intention to actually take the slut up on 
her offer.  Barbara was big and strong, like Jenna, and Leonard had been 
stupid enough to think the bitch could save him from her.  He had witnessed 
their confrontation, had seen the rage swell in Jenna when the whore dared 
her to stop them.  Then he got to watch Jenna destroy her.  She 
remembered how her anger turned to pleasure, feeling the slut’s nose 
shatter beneath her fist, hearing the crack of her jaw breaking, feeling her 
ribs cave in between Jenna’s vice-like thighs.  The worthless cunt had never 
managed to lay a hand on Jenna.  Hearing the whore’s defiance turn to 
whimpering pleas for mercy had made her so wet.  She left no doubt in their 
minds who the real woman was.  Jenna used Barbara’s battered, bloody 
face like a vibrator, smothering her into unconsciousness before turning her 
attention to Leonard.  She beat him cruelly that night, but decided to spare 
his balls, since it had been Barbara that dreamed up their silly plan, and 
puny Leonard was just too weak-minded to resist her.         
    The memories of abusing them brought her pleasure, and she nuzzled 
Juanita’s face deeper still into her steamy muff.  Jenna had hired Juanita as 
a maid, and a month into her employment had caught the Mexican girl trying 
to seduce her husband.  That was well over a year ago, and Juanita had 
been paying the price ever since.  She suited Jenna’s needs anyway; 
Juanita may have ended up in her predicament whether she had made a 
play for Leonard or not.  Leonard was a well-paid executive with an image to 
maintain.  The amount of physical abuse Jenna could dish out on him was 
limited if she wanted to continue to be supported in the lifestyle she had 
become accustomed to.  Juanita presented no such problems, and she 
made a convenient punching bag/sex toy for whenever Jenna desired to use 
her, which was frequently.  Especially to vent the kind of frustration she was 
feeling at that moment.
   Juanita looked so puny compared to Jenna, even though she was 5’ 8" 
and weighed 140 lbs.  She had a voluptuous figure, but next to Jenna’s 
broad-shouldered, muscular body she looked downright skinny.  Jenna had 
grown even larger in the years she had been married to Leonard, gaining 
ten pounds, all of it hard, solid muscle.  She had ordered Leonard to install a 
complete gym in the basement of their spacious house, and he had, of 
course, obeyed.  She spent hours every day working out, building her body, 
refining her fighting skills even further.  She preferred to not use "toys" such 
as whips, paddles, or handcuffs for control.  Using her powerful body alone, 
her bare hands, was what gave her pleasure.  Woman-to-man or woman-to-
woman was the only way for Jenna to dominate.  The humiliation of her 
victims was more complete that way, by giving her prey every opportunity to 
stop her, of course to no avail.  She reveled in her strength and ability.  She 
lived to conquer and exploit the weaknesses of others for her own gain, be it 
material or physical gratification.  Their pain and humiliation was her 
pleasure.
   She reached to the small table next to her for a cigarette, only to crumple 
the empty pack in her powerful hand.  She relaxed her legs from around 
Juanita’s head and put her foot into the gasping woman’s midsection, 
shoving her back to the hardwood floor on her ass.  "Cigarettes, bitch," she 
said quietly, "now."  Juanita rose quickly.  "Yes mistress," Juanita gasped, 
and hurried off to satisfy Jenna’s demand.  Like Leonard, Juanita’s spirit had 
long ago been broken.  Jenna never had any worries of her calling for help 
or trying to run off.  God help the bitch if she ever tried.  She let out a sigh 
and once again grabbed the photographs lying next to the ashtray, fighting 
the urge to rip them to bits.  
   The private investigator had earned his pay.  It was definitely Leonard 
shown entering the cheap motel with the little blonde slut in the tight dress.  
She was cute, Jenna thought; a pity she wouldn’t be for much longer.  
Marcie.  Such a wholesome-sounding name, like the little girl next door.  She 
leafed through the photos, studying them for the dozenth time, reinforcing 
her rage.  The ones taken through the window of their room were not as 
clear but left no doubt who it was they showed undressing and getting down 
to business.  The bitch even sucked his cock for him!  The thought of this 
repulsed and angered her at the same time.  Leonard really has her fooled, 
Jenna thought, if she thinks a pussy like him is worth putting her mouth on 
his dick.  No man is worth that, as far as Jenna was concerned.  No matter, 
when she was through with little Marcie-poo she wouldn’t be putting anything 
in her mouth for awhile.  And when Leonard was minus one of his balls, he 
would know better than to ever stray from his mistress again.
   Juanita returned just as the BMW’s headlights moved across the living 
room window.  Jenna fished out a smoke and lit it, then ordered Juanita to 
her room.
   The door opened slowly and Leonard slipped in, trying his best walk 
quietly on the creaking floor.  He hung his suit coat in the hall closet and 
entered the living room, and was greeted by the startling sight of Jenna 
standing naked next to the fireplace.  Her powerful body was half obscured 
in the shadows of the darkened room, the glow from the fire bathing the 
other half.  She looked magnificent, like a Greek goddess.  And threatening.  
The smoke from her cigarette curled up around her one full, firm breast 
observable in the firelight.  He stopped still and looked at her uncertainly, 
not sure of what to say, fearful of how she planned to punish him for being 
so late.  He couldn’t see her eyes really, but could feel her knowing gaze 
looking him up and down.
   "Hello, Leonard," she said in a calm voice.  "Have we forgotten 
something?"
   Leonard instantly dropped to his knees, still looking into her darkened 
face.  "I’m so sorry, so sorry.  How may I serve my mistress?" he asked 
softly.
   "You’re late, Leonard."  She took a drag off the cigarette and flicked it into 
the fire.
   "Y-yes," he stammered, "I’m sorry mistress.  The party ran late.  The client 
was still there and my boss expected me…"
   "Do you think I’m stupid Leonard?" she interrupted.  Her voice now had a 
sharper edge to it.  "Do I look stupid to you?"
   "No mistress, of course not.  I don’t…"
   "Then why do you lie to me, Leonard?"  She moved slowly across the 
room, toward the phone.  
   He struggled to sound sincere.  "I’m not lying, mistress, I just…"  
   Jenna pushed the button on the answering machine, and his heart sank as 
he heard her voice on the tape.
   "Hi Bill!  Sorry to bother you, but I really need to get a hold of Leonard, and 
his cell isn’t answering.  Could you tell me where that client was having his 
party?"    There was no mistaking his boss’ voice on the other end.  "Party?" 
Bill asked, "I don’t know of any par…"  Jenna clicked off the machine.  She 
strode slowly over to where Leonard knelt and folded her arms across her 
ample chest.
   "Well, Leonard?"
   He had never seen her this way before.  She seemed fiercely angry, yet 
eerily calm – a tight-lipped controlled rage.  The fire burned in her eyes; her 
hard, powerful body seemed tensed and ready for action.  He could sense 
her sexual arousal.  But she was too quiet - no cocky attitude, no taunts, no 
warnings of physical pain.  She sounded businesslike, very even-toned and 
matter-of-fact.   
   "I-I can explain, mistress.  I just, well, I had to…"
   "Who were you with, Leonard?" she asked with just a hint of impatience.  
   "No one.  I was…"  The back of her hand across his face silenced him, the 
pain exploding through his head, and he fell to his side on the floor.  His 
neck felt as though his head were twisted off.  Then her hand was in his hair, 
jerking him back upright on his knees.
   "Who were you with, Leonard?"
   Jenna had not struck his face this way in a long, long time.  She limited 
herself to leaving marks that could easily be hidden; better that instead of 
having to answer a lot of fool questions.  Yet she had just struck him almost 
hard enough to lay his cheek open, much less leave a bruise. 
   Leonard was gripped with what bordered on panic.  "I was alone, mistress, 
I sw…"  Another sharp slap, but this time Jenna held him upright.  She 
planted her foot firmly on his crotch, wiggling it from side to side, nuzzling it 
in.  Then she started pressing down.  Slowly at first, slightly moving her foot 
up and down as if to find just the right spot.  Then she held it steady, and he 
saw the muscles in her leg begin to tense.   
   "Who were you with, Leonard?" she asked again in the same tone, slowly 
increasing the pressure on his cock and balls.  Tears began to well up in his 
eyes.
   "Please, mistress, oh God, please…" he began whining.  The pain crept 
through his groin, but he dared not reveal where he had been.  He knew 
what would happen.  He had to protect Marcie at all costs.  But Jenna was 
so strong, so overwhelmingly powerful.  He struggled to hold back the terror 
she had ingrained within him, his now instinctive reaction to do or say 
whatever she commanded of him.  His body began to shake with the pain 
and his internal struggle.
   "Tell me who you’ve been with, Leonard, and I’ll stop."  Her voice was 
softer now, almost soothing.  She pressed her foot down harder into 
Leonard’s tortured groin as he watched the firelight dance off of her bulging 
thigh and calf.  The pain was growing increasingly intense.
   "N-no!" he blurted out, "I-I c-c-can’t!"  
   With a growl of angry impatience, Jenna removed her foot and hauled 
Leonard up roughly to his feet.  His scalp felt as though it were being torn 
off.  She switched her grip to the front of his shirt and pounded her fist into 
his flabby midsection, causing his body to flop like a beached fish as the 
pain exploded through him.  She slammed another blow into his belly that 
bent him in two, his outstretched feet flying up as high as Jenna’s waist.  
Then another, and another…each harder than the last.  Each punch ripped 
savagely into Leonard’s soft abdominal muscles, inflicting indescribable 
agony upon him, but he couldn’t even breathe, let alone cry out.  She 
released his shirt and he remained upright, clutching at his gut, gasping 
frantically.   With another growl, she whipped a vicious left hook to the side 
of his head, sending him flying over a table onto the floor.  
   Completely panicked, Leonard instinctively tried to crawl away quickly, like 
a trapped, wounded animal.  His grunts and gasps broken up by pathetic, 
high-pitched whimpers of pain and helplessness.  All of Jenna’s warnings 
seemed about to come true.
   She swiftly moved over him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to his 
feet.  She let him stand free again and threw a straight left to his mouth, 
followed by a right to his cheek, then a left uppercut flush on his jaw.  
Leonard’s head flopped around on his shoulders like a punching bag.  His 
vision of Jenna became a soft blur behind a field of stars.  He staggered 
back but she stayed with him, sending a vicious one-two combination across 
his face followed by another jackhammer shot to his gut that left him doubled 
over, gasping for breath.  
   She paused and looked down at him for a moment, her breath heavy, 
nostrils flaring – like a victorious predator about to feast on her kill.  Then 
she suddenly slammed her knee up into the bridge of his nose with a loud 
splat.  Leonard flailed back onto the sofa, blood pouring from his nostrils and 
dripping onto the white shirt.  Jenna reached down, grabbed another handful 
of his hair and turned his face up.  She leaned over him, her face inches 
from his.  Even through his flattened nose he could smell her hot breath, 
stale with the smell of cigarettes.
   "Who were you with, Leonard?" she asked again in the same even voice.          
   Leonard was barely conscious.  He had grown accustomed to Jenna’s 
beatings, but this one was like nothing he had ever thought possible.  The 
blows she reigned down on him were much more forceful than the normal 
punishment she so enjoyed inflicting upon him, obviously meant to cause 
more permanent damage.  He began to shake with terror.  For the first time 
since their wedding night he actually feared his life was in danger.
   Still, he was not ready to sacrifice Marcie.  Not yet.  "I…I c-can’t," he 
gasped through his swelling, bloody lips, "p-please…n-n-no…"
   Jenna pulled him off the couch and tossed him into the big chair like a 
throw pillow.  She sat down on his lap, facing him, her big tits hanging in his 
face.  He could feel the hot moistness of her crotch begin to soak through 
his trousers.  Her nipples were rock-hard.  She reached over and grabbed 
one of the photos, a close-up of Marcie leaving the motel, and held it up 
close in front of his face.  "It’s so gallant of you to try to protect the little 
whore from me," she said in a mocking tone.
   Leonard felt the jolt of surprise and fear tear through him like a bolt of 
lightning.  She already knew!  She knew all along!  All of his planning, all the 
care he’d taken to cover his tracks, had been for nothing.  His heart felt as 
though it would pound out of his chest.  He knew now that he was doomed.  
Jenna was just getting started with him, and Marcie would be next.  He 
struggled not to give into the panic that was completely overwhelming him.  
His eyes darted around the darkened room as his mind raced, trying to think 
of a way out, of some way to save himself and warn Marcie.  But he knew 
there was none.  There never was with Jenna.
   "Who were you with, Leonard?"
   As always, in the end, Leonard was totally defeated.  There was no point 
in resisting any further.  "W-with her,"  he said resignedly, "I was w-
with…Marcie…"  
   Jenna sighed loudly.  "Marcie," she said matter-of-factly, "Pretty little 
blonde slut."  She put the photo down and picked up what looked like some 
kind of report.  She began calmly reading it aloud to Leonard as his throat 
tightened.  Jenna knew everything about Marcie: her full name, age, address 
– everything.  She knew all the places they had been meeting.  Then she 
showed him all the photographs, one by one, of he and Marcie entering the 
motel, he and Marcie having sex, he and Marcie leaving and going their 
separate ways, describing each image with a running commentary as she 
displayed them to him.  The tone of her comments became harsher as she 
went on.  "And here’s the little cunt sucking your dick for you."  Leonard’s 
body was shaking uncontrollably when she put down the last photo and 
spoke in that same business-like tone.
   "You were with her tonight, Leonard?"
   "Ye-yes…yes."
   "Did she fuck you tonight?"
   Leonard gasped, then bit his lip.  He stared at the floor and did not 
answer.  Jenna grabbed his face roughly, digging her nails into his cheeks 
as she pinched them together.  She put her face right up to Leonard’s, her 
nose almost touching his.
   "Did she fuck you, pussy-boy?"
   "Yesh," came the feeble reply through his pursed lips.  
   She let go of his face and sat back with a deep breath.  Leonard braced 
himself for her unleashed fury, now certain the sight of her sitting before him 
was going to end up being his last.  But she just sat there, looking across the 
room into the darkness, as if lost in thought.  Leonard’s fear began to mix 
with a sense of dread.  What kind of hideous torture was she deciding to 
inflict upon him?  What horrible punishment was she trying to think of?  After 
a few seconds she slowly closed her eyes and took another breath, then 
looked down into his teary eyes with a calm expression.  
   When she spoke she went back to her business-like tone.  "I’m going to 
cripple the little whore, Leonard."  She looked right through him, her 
expression one of complete calm.  "I’m serious.  I really mean it.  I’m going to 
snap her limbs like toothpicks, and break her skinny back.  Literally.  And I’m 
going to make you watch.  After all, it’s your fault."  
   He let out a loud moan, his head shaking back and forth slowly.  
   She moved one hand down between her legs as her voice quieted.  "It 
makes me wet to think about doing it, Leonard.  Maiming her puny little 
body.  Then crushing one of your balls.  I warned you, didn’t I, Leonard?"  
Her expression softened.  Her voice was becoming breathy; her hand began 
working her crotch faster.  "I can’t wait.  I’ve always wondered what it would 
feel like…feeling a man’s testicle squish between my fingers…" she let out a 
low moan of pleasure, "…like a grape."     
   She stopped rubbing herself and unfastened Leonard’s trousers, gently 
placing her fingers on Leonard’s cock.  "Hard on, Leonard," she commanded 
quietly, and despite the abuse she had inflicted upon him, he instantly began 
to respond.  It irritated her that she still had to touch him, but eventually his 
dick would get hard from her command alone, even after she crushed one of 
his balls.  Her continued training of him would see to that.  She pulled his 
swelling member up against the hot wetness of her crotch, rubbing it over 
her hard clit.  "I’m going to do it in front of her, though…yes…oooo…I want 
her to see what a pussy you really are.  I want her to watch me make you 
suffer."  She looked down at his growing cock between her legs.  "Harder, 
Leonard," she half whispered, and in seconds he was fully erect.  She rose 
slightly on her knees and slid the throbbing head of his dick just inside her 
pussy, then thrust herself down hard over it, engulfing it with her steamy 
hole.  
   "Yesssss…a worthless fucking pussy."  She began moving herself up and 
down on him, slowly at first, then gradually building up speed and pressure.  
She paused every few strokes, clenching her muscles around his hardness 
and rocking herself back and forth slightly.  She leaned her big tits into his 
face and Leonard began instinctively using his tongue on her nipples, just as 
Jenna had trained him to do.
   "When I’m finished here, Leonard, we’ll go pay little Marcie a visit," she 
breathed, bearing down harder on his cock, "I just have to meet her right 
away."  Her voice trailed off.  "Yesss…right away."  Then suddenly, her hips 
began to buck violently back and forth as she leaned away from him with a 
loud moan, her left hand reaching up and grabbing a handful of Leonard’s 
hair.  "Ooooo…I’m going to fuck you both up so bad," she breathed, 
whipping her right fist around to crash into the side of Leonard’s head.  
Feeling her knuckles impact with his skull, seeing his head snap to one side 
as he squealed in pain, made the waves of pleasure flowing up from her hot 
pussy even more intense.  She began furiously working herself up and down 
his cock.  "Fuck you up," she spat, throwing another crushing blow to his 
bruised cheekbone.  "Cripple her…oooo, YES."  Then another shot to his 
head, and another to his face, and another…throwing the punches in rhythm 
with the thrusts of her pelvis.  Hearing Leonard’s grunts of pain along with 
her visions of Marcie’s suffering brought Jenna closer and closer to climax, 
as she viciously pounded his head into oblivion.           
   Her violent orgasm was the last thing Leonard was aware of before 
slipping into the blackness of unconsciousness.


   Marcie ran the last few strokes through her blonde hair and set the brush 
down on the vanity with a sigh.  She examined her face in the lighted mirror, 
frowning at herself, at how ridiculously young she looked.  She longed to 
look her age instead of like some high school girl.  She was tired of some of 
the looks people gave anytime Leonard took her out in public.  She ran her 
finger over the freckles that still dotted her nose and cheeks, reminding 
herself that she was 24 years old and could date whoever she wished, 
regardless of how young she appeared to be.  
Leonard had always chuckled when she complained about it.  She could 
hear his voice in her head, "Someday you’ll be glad you look so much 
younger than your age."  She knew he was right, but she still got tired of 
hearing waiters ask Leonard what his daughter would like from the menu.  
He thought it was funny, but she had lost her patience with it all.
   She had dealt with the problem all her life.  She had always been pretty, 
but even as a senior in high school she was a skinny, awkward girl who 
looked like a freshman, and she was rarely asked out.  It wasn’t until after 
graduation that her body began to fill out, developing a very nice 34C-23-35 
figure on her 5’ 7" frame, which she now took care to maintain with regular 
work-outs.  It was then that she suddenly became popular with the boys, but 
she had little experience.  They were all so immature to her, all wanting the 
same one thing: to get down her pants.  She dropped out of college her third 
year after a string of these bad relationships made her yearn for a fresh 
start, and she got hired as an accounting clerk at Leonard’s firm a week 
later.  
   She smiled as she remembered the first time she laid eyes on him, the 
very day she started.  She was seated at her desk, her supervisor instructing 
her on use of the computer, when Leonard came strolling by.  He was so 
handsome, so distinguished.  Her eyes never left him as he moved through 
the office.  Leonard didn’t even notice her, but the supervisor had to tap 
Marcie on the shoulder to get her attention back.  Later that week, she saw 
him eating in the cafeteria and made a point to find a seat at his table, 
almost directly across from him.  She was so nervous.  They made some 
small talk, and she saw how easy-going he was for being such a high level 
executive.  She became even more interested in him.  He seemed attracted 
to her as well, but she sensed his reluctance to get to know her any better.  
Still, she found him there the next day and they again sat together and 
talked, this time for almost half an hour beyond her allotted lunch time.  
Marcie earned a written warning for that, but to her pleasure found out later 
that it had been "taken care of;" expunged from her record.  She also 
learned from a co-worker that Leonard almost never ate in the employee 
cafeteria, much less two days in a row.
   Emboldened by the knowledge, she braved going up to the executive 
offices the next day, after hours, in the hope of catching him alone in his 
office.  She wasn’t sure if she should be so brazen, but she felt so strongly 
that there was some connection there, something special.  She nervously 
decided that if he questioned her presence, she would just say it was to 
thank him for his help.  When she realized he was indeed there, she was so 
frightened she almost went straight back to the elevator, but when he caught 
a glimpse of her through his partially opened door he rushed out to greet 
her.  She was struck by how genuinely happy he seemed to be that she 
came up.  She thanked him profusely for getting her out of trouble, and he 
extended an invitation to join him for a drink, which she almost literally 
jumped to accept.
   It was a wonderful evening that went far beyond what she had expected.  
He was so down-to-earth, so kind.  She confessed how attracted she was to 
him, and that was when he first told her briefly of his wife and how unhappy 
he was with his marriage.  How much he would like to get away from her.  
She told him how bad it made her feel – such a considerate, caring man 
trapped with such an unappreciative woman.  He took her hand in his and 
told her if he ever found a way, he hoped he could be with someone like her.  
When they finally parted that night he kissed her more passionately than 
anyone ever had before. 
   He was waiting for her at lunch the next day, and told her that the door to 
his office was always open for her.  At any time.  Marcie took the hint 
happily.  She rode the elevator up again that very night.  The rest, as they 
say, was history.            
   The memories pushed her problems with her youthful appearance aside.  
She stood up and stretched, then cinched the belt on her pink terrycloth robe 
tighter.  She still felt a warm glow from her encounter with Leonard the 
previous night, could still feel him inside of her.  She smiled to herself as she 
went into the kitchen of her small cottage on the edge of town.  Leonard had 
found it for her.  She felt so lucky to be with him.  He had turned out to really 
be everything he seemed to be, truly a gentle soul of a man.  Except in bed.  
There, he was forceful, aggressive.  Dominating.  Exactly the way she 
wanted him to be.  He teased her, taunted her, talked dirty to her.  It melted 
her like butter.  He was the perfect man for her.  If he could only find a way 
to leave his shrew of a wife.   
   She thought about it as she made her coffee, about how reluctant Leonard 
was to talk about his marriage in any detail.  It seemed odd to Marcie, since 
he was so open about everything else in his life.  She knew all about his 
childhood, his college experiences, his friends, his job, but almost nothing 
about his wife.  Except that she was a selfish bitch.  A bitch that would take 
him to the cleaners in a divorce, and would create other problems for him 
that he had never elaborated upon.  It was the only subject she could bring 
up with Leonard that would make him irritated with her.  He steadfastly 
refused to discuss it at any length, becoming very short if she pushed him 
too hard.  But she trusted in him, and knew that he would share it with her 
someday, when he was ready.  She truly loved him and would do anything 
for him.  She would wait for him as long as he wanted her to.  Someday it 
would happen, she was certain, and the knowledge that she would someday 
replace Leonard’s uncaring spouse and fill his life with love instead of misery 
gave her enormous satisfaction.  Content with her feelings, she sipped her 
coffee and thought ahead to the next time she would get to be with him.
   The pounding on the front door interrupted her musings, and with a squint 
of irritation she set her cup down and walked around the counter and 
through the living room.  Who could be banging on her door like that at 8:00 
on a Saturday morning?  "Who is it?" she called as she grabbed the knob, 
surprised to hear Leonard’s voice on the other side.  
   "It’s me.  Please open up," he said with a strange tone.  Marcie sensed 
something was dreadfully wrong, and she hurriedly released the deadbolt 
and flung the door open.
   The sight of him made her feel feint.  He looked ghastly.  Both eyes were 
blackened and swollen to little slits.  His nose was also dark and badly 
swollen, with dried blood crusted around both nostrils that ran down over his 
mouth.  His lips looked like ground meat.  More blood was covering his chin 
and was splattered all over his wrinkled white shirt.  The left side of his face 
was one huge bruise, and his left cheek was laid open.  His normally well-
kept hair was matted in clumps.  He staggered a few steps inside and fell to 
his knees with a moan, Marcie cradling her arms around him, trying to 
support him.  He slumped to his side on the floor and looked up at her as 
she knelt beside him.  "I’m sorry," he said in a hoarse whisper.
   Marcie fought off hysteria.  Her hands shook as she held them over his 
beaten form, unsure whether to touch him, afraid she might cause him more 
pain.  Tears welled in her eyes, her voice quivered with fear.  "Oh God, 
darling, h-how…?" she said haltingly, unsure for the moment of what to say 
or do.  She struggled to regain her clarity.  "Lay still, baby," she said 
soothingly, gently stroking his head, "I’ll get help.  We’ll get you to a hospital.  
You came to the right place."
   "Isn’t that touching?" came a voice from the doorway.  Startled, Marcie 
looked up to see a  dark-haired woman step into the room.  She was quite 
an imposing figure, very tall and regal-looking.  Her skin was naturally dark.  
Her full lips were painted blood red, her hair was pulled back into a tight 
bun.  Even through the knee-length coat she wore, Marcie could see that 
she was broad-shouldered and busty.  Her long, well-muscled calves 
tapered down into a pair of black stiletto heels.  She gently pushed the door 
closed and turned the deadbolt, looking down at the two of them with a smug 
expression.  
   "W-who are you?" Marcie asked, the quiver returning to her voice.  "Are 
you…"
   "The one who beat the dog shit out of this pussy?" the woman interrupted, 
a light smile forming on her lips.  She glanced around the room and saw the 
phone resting on the kitchen counter.  She walked over to it and yanked the 
cord violently from the wall.
   Marcie rose to her feet.  "What the hell do you think you’re doing!?!" she 
demanded, her apprehension leaving her.  "Who are you?"
   The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of black leather 
gloves.  She then began unfastening her coat.  "My name is Jenna.  After 
today you will never forget that."  The coat slid down to reveal her almost 
total nakedness.  She wore nothing save a black leather thong and the 
stiletto heels.  Marcie instinctively stepped back at the sight of her big 
muscular body, intimidated by her aura of power.  "That’s my husband on the 
floor.  The one you’ve been fucking."  She started slipping on the gloves as 
her expression became stern once again.  "Now I’m going to hurt you, 
Marcie dear," she said matter-of-factly, moving slowly back towards the door, 
"I’m going to hurt you very, very badly."  She stopped, cocking her hips to 
one side and placing her now gloved hands on them.  She glanced down at 
Leonard’s prone body.  "Worse than him, even."  Jenna smiled knowingly, 
but her dark eyes were still full of menace as she glared fiercely at the 
smaller blonde.
   Marcie’s heart was pounding.  She looked at Jenna wide-eyed, her head 
slowly shaking back and forth.  This is insane, she thought, and turned 
quickly toward the bedroom.  "I’m calling the police," she said half to herself, 
but after only a few steps she felt a sharp yank on the back of her robe, and 
she was suddenly flying backwards across the room.  She slammed into the 
wall next to the door, sliding down to a sitting position, her robe open and 
bunched up around her waist.  She fought to clear her head as she watched 
Jenna reach down and haul Leonard up by the front of his shirt and sit him 
on the couch across the room.  "Now watch carefully, Leonard," she said.  
He sat there stiffly, gazing at Marcie with a look of remorse.
   The blonde struggled to her feet, her robe remaining on the floor.  She 
reached quickly for the door, then hesitated as she realized she was now 
completely naked.  She turned back for the robe but saw Jenna approaching 
her, and she quickly backed away.  
   Marcie’s mind raced.  What the hell was going on here?  Less than three 
minutes earlier, she had been enjoying a quiet morning, confident in her love 
for Leonard and hopeful for their future together.  Now suddenly she was 
confronted with the horror of her lover being savagely abused, perhaps 
seriously injured, and the prospect of the vicious woman who had beaten 
him doing the same, or worse, to her.  This woman couldn’t possibly be 
serious!  Who the hell does she think she is?  She was literally crazy, she 
thought, dangerously crazy.  
   She should have been terrified, she knew.  She had been in a few scrapes 
in her life, and she was certainly in good physical condition, but Jenna 
looked as though she could tear Marcie to shreds with no effort.  Still, all 
Marcie felt was outrage.  How dare this…this amazon bitch invade her home 
– her very life -- this way?  Her lack of fear surprised her.  She glanced over 
at Leonard, and the sight of his battered face filled her with even more 
anger.  She had to stop this woman somehow.  Her anger began giving way 
to determination.  Determination to protect herself and save Leonard from 
his nightmare marriage once and for all.  She had to find some way to get to 
the bedroom phone and call for help.
   She had little time to contemplate it, however, as Jenna pressed the 
element of surprise and wasting no time in advancing on the smaller blonde.  
Marcie backed away and the two women began slowly circling each other, a 
wary expression on Marcie’s face, a cocky smile on Jenna’s.  Leonard 
choked back his panic.  He was becoming numb to the physical pain Jenna 
had visited upon him, but he was overwhelmed by emotional agony.  He 
wanted to stand up, to defy Jenna, to rush to poor Marcie’s aid.  But the 
years of brutal conditioning combined with his weakened physical state 
prevented it.  He could do little but sit there helplessly, certain he was about 
to witness Jenna break Marcie into pieces, powerless to do anything to 
prevent it.  He began sobbing quietly.
   Jenna felt exhilarated.  She looked up and down Marcie’s slender, naked 
body.  No contest.  She was going to enjoy crushing her, hearing her beg 
and plead for Jenna to stop hurting her.  She was going to inflict upon the 
weakling slut the worst beating she had ever given anyone.  Then she was 
going to put Marcie’s shattered body on display for Leonard before 
destroying one of his puny balls.
   She suddenly lashed out at Marcie’s head with her right hand, but the 
blonde managed to duck under it and all Jenna caught was air.  She swung 
her left down hard to catch Marcie as she bent low, but missed again as the 
smaller girl dropped to the floor and rolled away.  Surprised by the blonde’s 
agility, Jenna spun around to see Marcie already on her feet backing quickly 
away to the far corner of the room.  The smile returned to Jenna’s lips.  
"Slippery little whore, aren’t you?" she asked mockingly as she began 
striding slowly towards the wary blonde.
   Marcie knew she had nowhere to go now.  If Jenna got close enough to 
get a hold on her there would be little she could do.  She grabbed a lamp off 
an end table and flung it at the bigger woman, but Jenna just batted it away 
with a swoop of her muscular arm and it shattered on the floor near 
Leonard’s feet.  The smile still played on Jenna’s face as she approached.  
Marcie’s eyes moved from side to side, trying to find something she could 
use to stop Jenna’s advance, but there was nothing within reach.  Jenna was 
getting closer.  Marcie had to do something quickly or it would be all over.
   With a growl she sprung at Jenna, using all the strength in her legs to 
push away off the wall.  Jenna brought her arms up, but not in time to stop 
Marcie’s outstretched fist from slamming into the side of her mouth, spinning 
her head around and sending her back onto the carpet on her well-shaped 
ass.  Jenna was shocked by the force of the blow.  She sat there for a few 
seconds, her head down, blinking her eyes as she tried to clear the 
cobwebs.  Marcie stood staring at her, amazed with herself at having sent 
Jenna to the floor so quickly.
   The big woman rose to her feet.  She brought the back of her gloved hand 
to her lips and became angered at the sight of her own blood smeared 
across it.  The little bitch!  No one had managed to draw her blood since she 
was a schoolgirl.  The metallic taste in her mouth filled her with even more 
rage, and she glared at Marcie hatefully, determined now more than ever to 
completely destroy the smaller woman.
   Letting out a howl of anger she charged full tilt at Marcie, reaching out to 
grab her, to slam her to the floor.  But again, the blonde side-stepped her 
and Jenna charged past, bent over and struggling not to fall forward.  Marcie 
spun around as Jenna, still bent low, turned her to find her, and the blonde 
took advantage of the opportunity.  She threw a wild, looping right that met 
Jenna’s cheek head-on, and the big brunette dropped to one knee with a 
loud grunt.  The hours Marcie had spent aeroboxing at the gym seemed to 
be paying off.  The smaller woman quickly moved over Jenna and brought a 
swooping left down hard on the edge of her jaw that spun the big woman’s 
entire upper body around.  
   Jenna was beside herself.  Her mind was on fire with anger and frustration.  
The blonde had actually managed to hurt her, and she hadn’t been able to 
lay a finger on the little bitch.  She should have been using Marcie’s puny 
body for a punching bag, but was instead finding herself on the receiving 
end.  She needed to regroup.  She dropped to her side and rolled away from 
Marcie, springing to her feet as quickly as her spinning head would allow.  
She stood there, rubbing her jaw, glowering at Marcie with the eyes of a 
tigress.  Rage like she had never felt before seethed within her.
   "Slut!" Jenna hissed through clenched teeth.  "I’m going to kill you for this!  
Kill you!"
   Marcie’s confidence was growing stronger.  She was showing to herself 
and Jenna that she could hold her own against the bigger woman.  But she 
also knew that all it would take is for Jenna to connect once on her, and she 
would probably be finished.  She knew she was in a literal fight for her life, 
yet she still felt no fear.  She watched Jenna carefully as the brunette began 
slowly walking around her, glaring at her with her hate-filled eyes, looking for 
the right opening to start pounding her into oblivion.  She glanced over at 
Leonard who sat perfectly still, transfixed by the unlikely scenario unfolding 
before him.
   Jenna suddenly planted her feet and feinted a left, then sent a whistling 
right straight at Marcie’s head.  The blonde saw it coming in time to bend 
under it and counter punch with a hard uppercut to the point of Jenna’s chin, 
snapping her head back.  "Bitch," the brunette snarled as she shook it off, 
now circling back the other way.  She faked a charge by bringing both hands 
up quickly, trying to gauge Marcie’s reaction, then sent her right fist again 
sailing at Marcie’s head.  Marcie leaned to her right, avoiding the blow.  
Drawing on some unconscious instinct, she hooked her left arm up and over 
Jenna’s thick forearm, pinning it to her side.  Before Jenna could react she 
threw two swift rights into the brunette’s mouth, then wound back and buried 
her fist deep into Jenna’s firm left breast with all the force she could gather.  
Jenna let out a shriek as agony like she had never before felt jolted through 
her.  Marcie released her arm and she dropped again to her knees, clutching 
at her breast.  She just knelt there, stunned, her muscular body shaking as 
she panted and moaned in pain and anger.  
   Still driven by her instincts, Marcie took advantage of Jenna’s condition.  
She threw a right that drove into the side of Jenna’s head, then another, and 
another – each blow snapping the bigger woman’s head sharply to one side.  
A strange feeling was taking hold of Marcie, like some sort of fire burning 
deep inside of her.  She felt as though she was disconnected from herself 
somehow, like her actions were controlled from somewhere else.  Some sort 
of animal-like aggression was taking over.  She buried a left into Jenna’s eye 
socket, bringing a yelp of pain from the dazed amazon.  A right to the jaw 
spun her face around, a left to the cheek on the rebound that made Jenna 
see stars, another left to the head – Marcie poured it on the brunette with 
everything she had.  
   Jenna was being completely overwhelmed by the smaller woman, but she 
still somehow managed to remain upright on her knees.  Her vision was 
blurred, her head and breast pounded with pain, but she was nonetheless 
aware of what was happening to her.  She was amazed at how hard the 
smaller woman could hit, and how fast she moved.  She needed to get her 
hands on the skinny slut and hold her still.  Trying to clear her head, she 
brought her arms up and began to rise, but Marcie threw the bridge of her 
foot into Jenna’s abdomen with a resounding thud.  Marcie’s kick just 
bounced off the amazon’s granite-like abs but the force was enough to send 
Jenna back on her ass once again, where she sat slowly shaking her head, 
her huge breasts heaving.
   Marcie wasted no time.  She charged forward, bringing her right knee up 
as hard as she could into Jenna’s battered face.  The blow plowed into the 
big woman like a cannon ball.  A shower of sparks filled Jenna’s vision.  It 
crushed her lips against her teeth and she felt as though her nose was being 
driven right up between her eyes.  Her head and upper body slammed back 
into the carpet, her entire body literally bouncing up before she flopped back 
to the floor, where she lay rolling her head from side to side with a low moan.  
The room around her seemed to become enveloped in a dark, swirling haze 
that grew thicker and thicker, finally obscuring her vision completely.  Then 
she lay still.  
   Leonard could scarcely believe what he was seeing.  He had expected to 
sit in anguish as the fierce woman who had spent the last six years breaking 
his body and spirit literally crippled his lover.  Instead it was young, tender 
Marcie standing over Jenna who lay gasping on the floor, blood trickling 
from her nostrils and swelling lips, her muscular arms stretched out 
motionless.  It was a strange sight: the slender blonde with schoolgirl looks 
gazing down at the big, hard-bodied amazon lying beaten and helpless 
beneath her, the amazon who had made his life a living nightmare.  But it 
was like a dream come true.  His heart began to pound again.  Not with fear, 
but with something he had never expected to feel when Jenna had literally 
dragged his beaten body up to Marcie’s doorstep.  In spite of the suffering 
he had endured that morning, his hand instinctively moved to his lap and 
began rubbing his swelling cock.  
   Marcie looked down at Jenna with a mix of surprise and triumph.  
Surprised that she had managed to control her fear.  Surprised that she had 
the power within her to render the giant woman senseless.  Triumphant in 
the knowledge that by overcoming her fear and finding the power that she 
had beaten her so easily.  She just stood there looking down at the semi-
conscious woman.  She should have been in the bedroom calling the police, 
she thought, but something deep within her kept her standing there.  A part 
of her she never realized existed, and only then she was becoming fully 
aware of.  
   She felt good – very good.  It actually gave her pleasure to hurt Jenna, a 
feeling she had never thought hurting another person could possibly give 
her.  It went far beyond just simple satisfaction.  Seeing what Jenna had 
done to her beloved Leonard and suddenly realizing the true nature of their 
marriage, coupled with Jenna’s brazen intrusion into her home, made her 
feel not only justified in what she had done, and beyond just pleased with 
herself.  It made her feel good in another way, a physical way.  A sexual 
way.  She shook her head with guilt, telling herself that it was not right, that it 
was perverted somehow.  But the feelings continued growing despite her 
moral objections to them.  
   Then she heard Leonard speak, his voice still hoarse.  "Fuck her up 
sweetie," he said, "fuck her up real bad.  Humiliate her for me."
   The words and the thoughts they conjured up began to make her wet.  
Despite her discomfort with the feeling, she found she couldn’t stop her mind 
and body from becoming aroused.  In fact, she realized that deep down, she 
wanted more.  Maybe it was the sense of power she now enjoyed, or 
perhaps it was her feeling that the bitch deserved to get the shit beaten out 
of her.  She struggled to come to grips with it.  It was sick, she thought, but 
something had changed inside her that morning, and her will to resist it was 
fading rapidly.  She looked over at Leonard and saw his hand moving up 
and down the front of his pants.  It made her happy she was pleasing him.  
   She looked down again at Jenna’s prone body.  The big woman’s eyes 
seemed to be clearing, and she was trying to lift her head off the floor.  The 
sudden cruelty of her own imagination amazed her.  Yes, she thought, she 
wanted Jenna awake; she wanted her to fully realize what she was doing to 
her.  She wanted Jenna to feel the pain she was inflicting upon her 
completely.  Wanted her to be aware of the total humiliation of being beaten 
and used by a woman half her size.  Marcie’s body shuddered as waves of 
pleasure began to spread up through her.  She smiled at herself in 
astonishment.  In just the first few minutes of what had started as a lazy 
Saturday morning, she had found a new power within herself.  And it made 
her hot.
   She gave up trying to fight it.  Seeing the sexual pleasure she was giving 
Leonard, combined with her own sexual reaction, completely immersed her 
in her newfound role.  She not only wanted to beat Jenna to a pulp, but 
humiliate her in the process as well.  She wanted to put on a show for 
Leonard that would prove to them all who the woman in his life was going to 
be from then on.  
   Remembering how dominating Leonard acted in bed, the things he said 
that turned her on, gave Marcie her cue.  She stepped around Jenna’s 
outstretched body, stopped next to her head and leaned over to gaze down 
into her dark eyes with a smug expression.  "C’mon, big girl," she taunted 
Jenna, "I thought you were gonna kill me.  You gonna let a skinny little 
whore like me do this to you?"  She couldn’t believe she was actually talking 
like that, much less believe how turned on it made her to say it.  "Why don’t 
you get up and show me who the real woman is?"  She put the ball of her 
bare foot on Jenna’s face and roughly wiped it down across her mouth.  The 
feel of Jenna’s bloody lips mashing under her bare skin made her wet crotch 
quiver with delight.
   The big brunette was gradually becoming aware once again.  She rolled to 
her right, propping herself up on her elbow, trying to force the room to stop 
spinning around her.  Intense, throbbing pain danced through her head; her 
left breast ached horribly.  As the haze lifted further she could see Marcie’s 
slender legs standing over her, and the sight of them reminded her of the 
humiliation she was enduring at the hands of the smaller woman.  No, she 
thought, she could not allow this to happen to her.  With great effort she 
pulled her legs up and forced herself to one knee, her head lowered, doing 
her best to fight off the effects of Marcie’s assault.  She refused to be 
defeated.  The bitch would pay for doing this to her, she thought.  She would 
pay with her life.
   Slowly, unsteadily, she rose to her feet.  Her head felt like an anvil was 
strapped to it.  Her arms felt heavy and numb, and her legs seemed unable 
to adequately support her muscular frame.  Her right eye was turning dark 
and starting to swell.  Ugly bruises were forming on both cheeks and around 
her mouth, and blood trickled from her nose and lips.  Long strands of her 
hair dangled over her face and from what was left of the bun on the back of 
her head.  One of her spiked heels remained on its side on the floor, and 
Jenna kicked the other one off impatiently.  Even without them she was still 
half a head taller than Marcie.  There was no way she could let this…this 
skinny runt beat her up like this.  She balled her fists up and raised them to 
chest level, staring at Marcie with dull, lifeless eyes.  When she spoke, her 
words sounded mumbled through her swollen lips.  "I’ll k-kill you, whore…" 
she panted, her voice trailing off, "…kill you."
   Marcie stepped close to her, her now erect nipples almost touching the 
bigger woman, and looked right up into her face.  She no longer felt the least 
bit threatened by Jenna.  "Go for it, bitch," she taunted Jenna, "Kill me."
   Grunting with anger, Jenna tried lashing out with her left fist, but it moved 
so slowly that Marcie easily knocked it away.  She threw a looping right, but 
the blonde batted it down as well, and countered by slapping her own right 
hand hard across Jenna’s face.  Jenna’s head spun to one side as she was 
pushed backward from the force of the blow.  Marcie stepped up, and as 
Jenna’s face turned back toward her she caught it with a vicious backhand.  
The big woman stumbled back a few more steps, and Marcie again followed, 
whipping another backhanded right across her battered face.  Jenna’s thick, 
dark hair came completely undone and splayed out around her head, blood 
spraying off her lips as her head snapped violently around. 
   The big woman could not believe what was happening to her.  She should 
have easily ripped Marcie’s body to shreds.  All of her adult life, she had 
dominated the people around her, destroyed them, used them at her whim.  
It had always been so easy for her.  Now she found herself being beaten 
and degraded by a skinny little slut who should be begging her for mercy 
instead of slapping her around.  She tried to cling to her anger, tried to use it 
to hold back her feeling of total humiliation, but it was a losing battle.  Marcie 
was toying with her now, and there was nothing the amazon could do to stop 
her.          
   Jenna kept moving backwards, and Marcie kept staying with her, 
repeatedly bringing the back of her right hand across Jenna’s cheek and 
jaw, faster and harder, the loud smacks of hand meeting face filling the 
room.  Jenna began to lose consciousness.  Her fists unclenched and her 
arms began flailing about with each stinging blow, her big tits jiggling around 
as she staggered back under Marcie’s onslaught.  The blonde "walked" her 
back this way; eventually forcing her against the wall where she stood 
helplessly absorbing the relentless punishment the smaller girl was dishing 
out on her face.  Marcie began using both hands to continue slapping the 
shit out of Jenna – forehands, backhands – her hands becoming sweeping 
blurs as she stepped up her attack to a level of viciousness she would never 
before have thought herself capable of.  Jenna’s head bobbed back and 
forth on her broad, muscular shoulders like a punching bag, grunting and 
panting with the pain of each loud slap.  She slowly slid down the wall, 
Marcie’s hands following her head down, continuing their wicked assault 
until the brunette was flat on her ass, her back against the wall, her legs 
stretched out in front of her.
   Marcie had lost any desire to stem her feelings.  She stood over the 
beaten brunette, her heavy breathing as much from arousal as from exertion.  
She wanted to crush the muscle-bound bitch, to hurt her as she had hurt 
Leonard.  She was going to make the bitch pay for what she had done to the 
man she loved, and pleasure herself in the process. 
   Leonard’s cock was rock hard, now.  Watching Marcie have her way with 
Jenna was more exciting than anything he’d ever imagined.  Seeing Jenna 
sitting there, beaten and bloody, while his slender young girlfriend stood 
over her without a mark on her pale-skinned body was the most erotic sight 
he had ever seen.  When he saw Marcie’s hand move down to her own 
crotch, slowly rubbing it up and down as she looked seductively back at him 
over her shoulder, he thought he would come in his pants.
   Jenna was only vaguely aware of her surroundings.  The pain she felt in 
her head was intense, as was the pain of her now total realization that she 
had proven no match for the smaller woman.  She felt a weight settle on the 
top of her legs and squinted through her watery eyes at the sight of Marcie’s 
freckled face directly in front of her.  She suddenly felt sharp pressure on the 
backs of her hands and became aware that Marcie had sat down on her, 
straddled her thighs and pinned her hands beneath her knees.  Her face 
twisted into an expression of anguish.  She shook her head slowly from side 
to side as she moaned with frustration.  "N-no," she panted, still clinging to 
her defiance, "you can’t…you c-can’t do this…"
   Marcie silenced her with another sharp backhand.  Jenna’s head slammed 
back into the wall with a thud, then just sagged forward as she emitted 
pathetic, high-pitched whimpering sounds between her gasps for breath.  
Marcie could not remember ever being as sexually hot as she felt at that 
moment.  Jenna sat before her, completely at her mercy, and she could 
literally do anything she wanted to her.  The pleasure it gave her was 
indescribable.  She craved the feeling – she wanted it to never end.
   She flattened her hand against Jenna’s belly, remembering how hard it felt 
when she kicked her.  The brunette’s abs were hard as steel.  Marcie smiled.  
She placed her outstretched fingertips under Jenna’s chin and turned her 
face up, leaning forward to where their noses almost touched.  
   "Let’s see if I can soften up that belly, big girl," she said with mock 
sweetness.
   Jenna remained instinctively defiant.  "I won’t…" she panted, "y-you 
can’t…"  She began meekly struggling to free her hands, but she no longer 
had the strength.
   Marcie pulled back and slammed her right fist into Jenna’s midsection as 
hard as she could.  Her hand literally bounced off as her foot had before, but 
Jenna’s grunt of pain told her that the blow had an effect.  She brought her 
hand back again and delivered another shot to the same spot, and this time 
she thought she felt the big woman’s muscles give a little.  She threw 
another punch, and another, then another, each one causing Jenna’s 
muscular upper body to jerk violently forward, each one causing her taught 
abdominal muscles to soften a little.  Jenna tried to slump all the way 
forward but Marcie grabbed a handful of her thick black hair and held her 
back against the wall.  She began driving her right hand into Jenna’s belly 
faster and faster, like a jackhammer breaking through a slab of concrete.  
Jenna’s grunting grew louder and sharper as Marcie methodically worked 
over her midsection, and finally turned to howls of agony as the blonde’s 
relentless pounding took it’s toll and literally ripped right through her 
chiseled abs, her fist sinking deep into Jenna’s dark flesh.
   The torturous agony Jenna felt was unthinkable.  Marcie was not stopping, 
driving her fist far up into Jenna’s body.  Her defiance, her very will to resist, 
was gradually dissolving under Marcie’s unyielding attack, and being 
replaced with an emotion completely foreign to Jenna.  So foreign that 
despite the intense suffering she endured at that moment, she was still 
consciously aware of her shock at experiencing it.
   Fear.  Raw, naked fear.  Fear of Marcie, of being so powerless to stop her.  
Fear of the pain she was inflicting upon her.  Fear of what she might 
eventually do to her.  It welled up from some dark recess inside of Jenna 
and spread like a cancer throughout her being.  Her throat tightened, her 
eyes welled up with tears.  She tried to hold it back, to beat it down.  To use 
her sheer force of will, like she had with everything else in her life, to keep 
from being completely overwhelmed by it.  But the relentless pain pulsing 
through her head and body, coupled with the sight of her smug tormentress 
seated victoriously upon her, caused it to totally engulf her.  She felt her 
muscular body begin to shake as she choked back her whimpering sobs.
   She felt something else, as well.  Marcie had stopped pounding her 
midsection, but her hand was now cupping Jenna’s left breast.  "Nice tits, 
muscle girl," she heard the blonde say in her mocking tone.
   Her fear escalated to panic.  She could still feel the pain from the blow 
Marcie had inflicted upon her there.  Any pretense of self-control 
immediately vanished.  "Oh God, no!  Oh please, no, please, oh God…" she 
panted in a high-pitched, whiny voice.  Hearing herself beg to a woman half 
her size made her degradation even more unbearable.
   "Aaww," Marcie mocked, "is the big tough girl scared I might hurt her big 
boobies?"  She moved her hand to the other breast, lifting up on it as if to 
judge its weight and firmness.  "I like hearing you beg, bitch.  It makes me 
wet.  Can you feel how wet I am?"  She shifted herself slightly so that her 
crotch straddled Jenna’s muscular thigh.  She rubbed herself up and down 
so Jenna could feel the slimy wetness of Marcie’s arousal smear over her 
skin. 
   The tone of Jenna’s pleading escalated to a near-scream.  "Please!  
Please no!  I-I can’t…oh please!"  Then she suddenly felt a nauseating pain 
shoot through her right breast, felt Marcie’s fist penetrate deep into its soft 
flesh, felt it whip around and smack up against her bicep.  She let out a 
shriek of agony as she instinctively struggled to escape from Marcie, but the 
blonde leaned forward and ground her hard kneecaps deeper into the backs 
of Jenna’s immobilized hands, causing the bones to pop.  Then the pain was 
suddenly in her left breast as she heard the slap of Marcie’s knuckles ram 
into its underside, causing it to flop up and touch Jenna’s chin as she 
lurched forward with a cry of helplessness.
   Marcie could scarcely believe the pleasure it gave her.  She teed off on 
the brunette’s big tits; rights, lefts – uppercuts, hooks, straight on jabs that 
sunk all the way in and met with hard bone.  Jenna’s tortured howls 
gradually became muffled grunts and then panting whimpers of defeat as the 
blonde literally beat Jenna’s big boobs into battered, sagging bags of meat.  
The amazon’s breasts flew every which way as Marcie increased the speed 
of her attack.  She moved her wet slit furiously up and down Jenna’s hard 
thigh at the same time, becoming more and more aroused with each blow, 
the rush of adrenaline making each bone-jarring punch harder than the last.  
Jenna bounced back and forth off the wall as tears streamed down her 
bloodied face, totally powerless to stop Marcie from utterly destroying her 
once-proud breasts.
   Completely swept up in her mastery of the bigger woman, Marcie’s flying 
fists moved up once again to Jenna’s already battered face, knocking her 
head to and fro, back into the wall with resounding thuds, whipping it around 
from one side to the next.  Sweat and blood sprayed onto the off-white paint 
as the blonde completed her utter destruction of the muscular amazon, using 
her fists to turn her into a whimpering, sobbing, semi-conscious shell of her 
former self.  
   Marcie finally tired of her sport, sitting back with her hands on her hips and 
looking Jenna’s beaten form up and down with a light smile of satisfaction.  
Leonard’s breath was now coming in short gasps of sexual pleasure.  He 
had unzipped his trousers and was rubbing his erect cock with total 
abandon.  Marcie looked over at him with her smile, as if to let him know that 
the big bitch was now hers, that she could make her do anything the two of 
them desired for her to do.  Leonard looked at Jenna, slumped against the 
wall, her eyes half closed, her face bruised and bloody, her big tits sagging 
down on her crushed abdomen as she pathetically gasped for breath.  He 
knew then what it was he wanted.  It had been a long time coming.  "Her 
mouth, Marcie," he said breathily, "I want her mouth."
   Marcie’s smile grew larger.  She stood up, pausing to look down 
triumphantly at what was left of Jenna, then grabbed a handful of her dark 
hair and literally dragged her over to where Leonard sat.  Jenna stumbled 
along behind her on her knees, barely aware of what was happening to her.  
Marcie forced her into a kneeling position before Leonard, the ceramic 
shards of the broken lamp digging into her legs.
   The blonde buried both hands into the back of Jenna’s thick mane and 
forced her head down, her mouth barely an inch from Leonard’s throbbing 
erection.  "Suck it, bitch," she ordered in a commanding tone.
   "Nooooo," Jenna wailed, struggling to raise her head, "No!  You can’t do 
this to me…"
   Marcie slammed the heel of her palm into the back of Jenna’s head, 
silencing her instantly.  She reached down and grabbed the big woman’s left 
wrist, violently twisting her well-muscled arm up high behind her back.  
Jenna let out a weak yelp of pain as Marcie yanked back on Jenna’s hair 
and pulled her head back, putting her lips right up to the brunette’s ear.  
"You’re gonna suck his cock, bitch," she said in a low voice, "In fact, you’re 
gonna beg me to make you suck it.  You’re gonna beg, or I’m gonna break 
your arm."  She roughly forced Jenna’s hand up between her shoulder 
blades as her body shuddered with pain.  "Let me hear it…now."
   Panic once again gripped Jenna.  The thought of Leonard’s dick in her 
mouth sickened her, but any shreds of dignity she had clung to were now 
stripped away.  All she could think of was the pain Marcie was inflicting on 
her and the fear of being completely at her mercy.  
   "P-please," she whimpered, "please make me suck his cock."  She felt so 
degraded.
   "You gonna be a good cocksucker, bitch?" Marcie taunted, deliberately 
prolonging Jenna’s humiliation.
   "Please…oh…y-yes."
   "Yes, what?"  Marcie wrenched up harder on Jenna’s arm.
   "Oh!  I-I’ll…I’ll be a good…c-cocksucker."  Tears began running down 
Jenna’s cheeks again.
   "Show me, bitch.  Open wide…"  
   She moved Jenna’s head near Leonard’s swollen dick.  The brunette 
hesitated briefly, then obediently opened her mouth.  Marcie pushed her 
face down over Leonard’s cock, forcing her to take as much of it as she 
could before she started gagging.  He sat back with a soft moan, his eyes 
rolling back into his head.  Marcie moved Jenna’s head up and down, 
making her fuck him with her mouth.  Jenna felt nauseated, but made no 
effort to resist.  She closed her eyes tight; letting out short, muffled grunts as 
the blonde forced her head back and forth, her nostrils flaring with her 
labored breathing.  It was almost too much for Jenna to bear.  She felt like 
nothing more than a hole for Marcie to use to pleasure Leonard’s cock.  She 
realized, in fact, that Marcie was using her for exactly that.  A hole.  A toy for 
their pleasure.  A cocksucking slut.  The humiliation she felt was 
overwhelming, but there seemed to be nothing she could do to stop it.  
Marcie had conquered her, and was forcing her to do whatever she wished.
   Marcie began pumping Jenna’s mouth up and down over his swollen 
member faster, and he began to shudder instinctively with pleasure, 
thrusting his pelvis up to meet each downward stroke.  Jenna’s grunts 
became gagging squeals as Leonard’s cock grew even larger in her mouth, 
and the sound drove Marcie to push down harder and faster still on Jenna’s 
head.  The brunette’s body began squirming to escape as she sensed 
Leonard’s impending orgasm, but Marcie held her tight, twisting her arm up 
even higher to make her stay put.  
   Suddenly Leonard’s thrusts became harder, and then his ass came way up 
off the couch as he shot his hot, bitter semen into Jenna’s mouth.  She 
instinctively tried to pull her head back but Marcie forced it down even 
farther, allowing Leonard to literally pump his load into Jenna’s throat.  The 
big woman’s body shook violently as she gagged on the salty fluid.  It ran 
out from around her lips down Leonard’s shaft, and smeared on her face.  
The foul smell of it under her nose, the awful taste of it in her mouth, made 
her feel as if she would vomit.  She wanted to spit the vile fluid from her 
mouth, but suddenly her head was being yanked back hard; her face forced 
to turn upward.  Then Marcie’s smiling face filled her vision.
   "Swallow it, bitch," she said, "swallow it or drown in it."  Jenna had little 
choice.  Her head was tilted back as far as it would go.  Marcie reveled in 
seeing the lumps move down Jenna’s neck as she loudly gulped Leonard’s 
hot jism down her throat.  "Such a good cocksucking bitch," Marcie smiled.  
The words burned into Jenna like a hot iron.  When she was finished, she 
knelt there in total anguish, her head lowered, her broad shoulders shaking 
with quiet sobs.
   But Marcie was still not finished.  She smiled at Leonard, then turned and 
whipped a vicious backhand across Jenna’s face, knocking the dazed 
brunette flat on her back.  She stepped up and planted one foot on either 
side of Jenna’s outstretched body, then lowered her ass onto her battered 
tits.  Jenna made whimpering sounds of pain as Marcie settled her firm butt 
down into her tender, aching breasts.  She dug her knees into the big 
woman’s biceps, pinning her to the floor beneath her, and grabbed her hair 
with her left hand, yanking her head up.  Jenna was staring straight into the 
blonde’s dripping wet crotch.  She moved her eyes up toward Marcie’s 
smiling face, looking at her with a fearful, pleading expression.
   "Now, ‘Miss Muscles,’ tell me…tell me who the better woman is," Marcie 
commanded.
   Jenna did not hesitate.  "You are."  Her voice was little more than a loud 
whimper.
   Marcie pounded her right fist down onto Jenna’s cheek, keeping a firm grip 
on her hair.  Jenna let out a pathetic high-pitched wail as the pain once 
again shot through her head.
   "Who is?" Marcie demanded again.
   "You are!  Oh please!  Y-y-you!"  Now her voice was one of total panic.
   Marcie brought her fist down again, this time squarely into Jenna’s mouth.  
Blood mixed with drops of Leonard’s semen sprayed off her shredded lips as 
her head vibrated beneath Marcie’s grip.  Her sobs returned, harder this 
time.  Her face was a mask of complete terror.
   "You’re no match for me, ‘Miss Muscles’…are you?" Marcie continued 
smugly.
   "No," Jenna panted, "n-no m-m-match."  The truth of the words made 
Jenna choke on them.
   "You’re worthless…and weak.  Aren’t you?"
   "Yes."
   Marcie slapped her hard across the mouth.  "Yes what, bitch?"
   "Y-yes…yes…worthless and weak…weak…"  Jenna’s voice trailed off to a 
near whisper.  She could still scarcely believe what was happening to her.
   Marcie inched herself forward on Jenna’s chest.  The pungent smell of her 
wet pussy wafted up the brunette’s nose.  Jenna’s fearful expression mixed 
with one of disgust.  She tried to turn her head away, but Marcie made her 
face forward as she gradually drew herself closer.  Jenna began panting 
frantically as her body again squirmed helplessly beneath Marcie.  Not that, 
she thought, oh no…no…  
   "Now it’s my turn to use your mouth, bitch," Marcie said softly, "Beg to suck 
my pussy."
   "No, please," Jenna gasped, but another sharp slap quieted her.  Marcie 
pulled up harder on her hair.
   "Beg, ‘muscle girl,’" she commanded, her voice breathy with sexual 
arousal.
   Marcie’s crotch was barely an inch away; Jenna could feel its warmth on 
her face, the smell had become overpowering.  She had never had her 
mouth on another woman before.  Her head was reeling, frantically trying to 
think of some way to escape her predicament.  It was unthinkable, being 
raped by this little girl.  But she could still taste Leonard’s come in her 
mouth, reminding her that she was no longer the fierce, strong dominatrix 
that had stepped through the door that morning.  It finally set in completely, 
the total realization that she had been completely, brutally conquered by the 
smaller blonde.  She realized that she was now nothing more, literally, than 
Marcie’s helpless shit-whore. There was nothing left she could do except 
obey.
   "P-please," Jenna whimpered, "p-p-please…make me…oh…s-suck your 
pussy."
   With a growl of erotic energy Marcie shoved herself forward hard into 
Jenna’s face, digging both hands deep into her hair.  She shoved Jenna’s 
nose and mouth into her slit and roughly ground her face into her, arching 
her back with pleasure as the big woman fearfully licked and sucked her 
steamy muff.  Marcie’s hips jerked forward as the pleasure spread through 
her.  She suddenly slid herself up over Jenna’s face, releasing her hair and 
slamming her head to the carpet beneath her undulating pelvis, grinding 
herself down with all her might onto the beaten woman.  A muffled shriek 
came up from Jenna as Marcie savagely masturbated herself with the 
brunette’s face, her back arching further, her erect nipples pointing almost 
straight up as her orgasm neared.  Jenna’s feet flailed about as she fought 
to breathe beneath Marcie’s hot, dripping crotch.  
   Then Marcie began to let out a low moan.  Her body began to shudder, 
then shake violently as her climax overwhelmed her.  She lifted herself off 
Jenna slightly, then slammed her pussy back down into her battered face 
like a piledriver, the crack of Jenna’s nose shattering filling the room.  A cry 
of sheer ecstasy escaped Marcie’s lips as she relentlessly drove herself 
down on Jenna, her hips bucking back and forth spasmodically as she used 
the big woman’s face to prolong her orgasm.  Jenna’s muffled screams 
became weak moans of helplessness as Marcie finished herself with her.  
Then the blonde slowly quieted, sitting up straight, slightly moving her crotch 
from side to side.  Her eyes were closed as she sat there on Jenna’s head 
for a few moments, smiling in satisfaction, basking in the warm afterglow.
   Then she raised herself up; her knees digging deeper into Jenna’s 
outstretched arms.  She looked down at the amazon with a look of mock 
concern.  Jenna lay beneath her, gulping in air in loud gasps and moaning 
pathetically, her head bobbing back and forth on the floor.  "Poor big girl," 
she said with a pout, "all used up now, are you?"  She looked over at 
Leonard and gave him a wink.
   Jenna’s degradation was now complete.  She lay there pathetically 
gasping for air, physically destroyed and mentally broken. There was 
nothing she could do as Marcie rose to her feet and yanked her up to a 
sitting position by her hair, shaking her limp body like a used dishrag, putting 
her on display for the man that just minutes ago had been her fearful, 
obedient slave.  "Not much left, is there darling?" she heard Marcie ask 
sarcastically, and the sobs began to roll up from inside Jenna again.  The 
blonde held her upright for what seemed like an eternity as her shoulders 
heaved and the tears streamed down her face.  She wanted to disappear, to 
crawl away and die, but she barely had the strength to breathe, let alone 
move.  Blackness again began to creep into her vision as she looked across 
the room at Leonard’s smiling face.  
   Then Marcie literally threw the big woman’s head back to the floor, and 
Jenna’s consciousness faded to black.

   One night, six months later, Leonard was working late at the office when 
his phone rang.  
   "Hello?"
   "Hello, darling," Marcie said cheerfully, "Leaving soon?"
   "Yeah babe, almost through.  Miss me?"
   "Horribly."
   "I’ll be home before you know it."  He heard a noise in the background.  
"What are you doing?"
   Marcie sat smiling in the overstuffed chair next to the fireplace.  Jenna 
knelt obediently on the hardwood floor in front of her, facing away, her upper 
body bent over to where her big tits mashed down into her own knees.  The 
steel bit dug hard into the corners of her mouth and ground against her back 
teeth, muffling her whimpers of pain.  Her head was pulled upward by the 
leather straps on each end that stretched back over her shoulders and tied 
to her wrists twisted up between her shoulder blades.  Her shapely ass, 
raised up high at Marcie’s disposal, shook uncontrollably as the blonde 
casually worked the 4" heel of her shoe in and out of her stretched, aching 
asshole.
   "I’m tenderizing our meat," Marcie grinned as she dangled the 10" strap-on 
from her free hand, "Hurry home, darling, or I may have to start without 
you..."