When a Girl Beats Up A Guy  -  Story #2
By Karen           karenk146@hotmail.com
True story by a female who turns the table on an aggressive, angry male 


Hey guys.  Due to the enormous positive feedback that I have received for the first of my four 
confrontations against the male of the species, I am pleased to provide to you the second installment.  I 
hope you enjoy it.

Preface

The following four paragraphs are a repeat of my background for the benefit of those readers who are 
reading this account without the benefit of reading my first story.  For those that wish to read that 
installment, you can find it as posted on this website on December 3, 1999.  

My name is Karen. I am currently 39 years old.  I am 5'10" tall and weigh 145 pounds.  My weight has 
only fluctuated slightly since I was 18 years of age.  I am not married, as I love my freedom.  I have 
worked as a flight attendant for the last 15 years and I obviously meet many men (and women as well).  
I have had a few lesbian encounters over the years but do not do so any longer.  I have been in top 
physical condition all of my life.  I generally run about 10 miles per week and lift weights regularly in 
my condominium townhouse.  My physique is not overwhelming by any means.  I possess nicely sized 
and shaped tits that do not sag in the least.  I do not have broad shoulders or large biceps.  I last 
measured my arms about a year ago at about twelve inches, with some definition visible if I really flex 
them. In fact, my arms and legs are extremely slender.  What I'm telling you is that there is no doubt 
that I am all woman.  I can lift more weight than you think I would be able to if you base your opinion 
solely on the slightness of my figure.

(Note:  Most of you who have e-mailed me have asked me how I dress and if I possess nice legs.  In 
answer to those questions, I have been told that I have very shapely and firm looking legs.  On most 
days I wear skirts three to six inches above the knee and wear high heels 80 to 90% of the time, even 
when I'm casual).

I used to go out with any man that acted like he was interested in me, but I changed my philosophy 
about ten years ago, when I met a big, rather friendly guy at O'Hare in Chicago.  We went out to dinner 
and a movie and had an altogether great time.  I invited him up to my hotel room when things began to 
get out of hand.  He apparently decided to end our date by making me pay for his giving me a good 
time earlier in the evening.  He came on like a hungry gorilla and didn't stop his rough advances when 
I asked him to.  He got really pissed and proceeded to beat me up.  He was about 6 feet tall and 
weighed about 200 pounds and was much too big for me to fight back against.  He then raped me as he 
ignored my pleas to stop hurting me.  I did not press charges because by the time I was able to move 
hours later, I knew that he had left town without a trace.  I chalked this incident up to experience and 
vowed that I would never let it happen to me again.

From that night on, I did not go out with any man who was so much bigger than I was.  I brushed off 
every single guy who wanted more than simple conversation at a bar that did not meet this "criteria".  
As it turned out, this was a great idea for me because, as I alluded to earlier, four of these "smaller" 
guys tried to take advantage of me like that big slob did, but got the shit kicked out of them instead.  I 
began to lift weights in earnest and I turned rock hard without gaining muscle mass.  I also joined a 
few self-defense groups and learned how to box and wrestle.  Now I am easily as strong as any man 
my size and I know how to fight.

Story #2

Let me preface this story with my subsequent observations of what transpired before beginning if I 
may.  This encounter was, at first glance, quite humorous and probably extremely erotic to me, but 
quickly turned very ugly.  Looking back on it now, and based on the outcome, I can honestly state that 
this was my most satisfying confrontation against a man.  You will understand why I say that, after you 
read what occurred.  (Note:  By the way, the man in this story is not the famous sportscaster that was 
involved in a similar situation a couple of years later).

Now, on with the story.

It was early August 1993.  I was 33 years old.  I was scheduled to fly the same flight pattern between 
New York and Minneapolis for 20 of the 31 days of the month.  After one particular flight that landed 
in Minneapolis, I went to the lounge to relax before re-boarding for the return trip later in the evening.  
I was dressed in my uniform consisting of skirt, airline jacket and black pumps.  A gentleman 
approached me and asked me politely if he could join me for a few drinks.  He was dressed 
immaculately in a very expensive black suit.  His name was Bob.  He was 42 years old, stood about 
5'9" tall, with beautiful black hair and deep blue eyes.  I could not guess his weight exactly, but I 
estimated him to be approximately 150 to160 pounds.  I was immediately attracted to him.  Bob was 
one of the most handsome men I had ever met in my life.  He told me that he was a senior vice 
president for a major commercial bank and had been aboard my plane.  He noticed me heading this 
way and indicated that he had felt compelled to meet such a beautiful woman as myself.  I was 
extremely flattered and he almost took my breath away with his charm.

We conversed for about an hour.  He told me that his business required him to commute often during 
the past few months between New York and Minneapolis.  While in Minneapolis, he reserved a luxury 
suite at the Hyatt Regency Hotel.  I was truly impressed.  As it was getting late, both Bob and I had to 
get going.  I gave him my home phone number and let him know my schedule.  He indicated that he 
would check his own schedule to see if he and I could hook up here in Minneapolis in the near future.  
He promised to call me to arrange a terrific night out, specifically an upscale full course dinner, 
followed by a live play and "who knows what after" later this month when my schedule allowed for 
some down time.  I told him that I looked forward to his call.

Later in the week, I was at home on one of my days off working out in my condominium when Bob 
called to invite me for the day of activities that he had promised me.  I gladly accepted his invitation.  I 
felt that this could actually be the start of a meaningful relationship for me.  Although I have had some 
wonderful companions in the past, not one of them was destined to last particularly long for one reason 
or another.  I felt that Bob might be THE one.

I arrived in Minneapolis the next week as scheduled.  I checked into a hotel where I freshened up to 
prepare for my night out with Bob.  I tried to dress up as lavishly as I could without going overboard.  I 
really wanted to impress Bob, however.  I put on an elegant blue sleeveless dress that ended about four 
inches above the knee.  It had a low v-cut which exposed my (C-cup) cleavage.  I wore a silver 
necklace and matching bracelets around both of my wrists, silver earrings and black patent leather 
pumps with four-inch heels.  It was a good hair day, and my brown hair fell below my shoulders just 
perfectly.  Looking in the mirror, I thought the outfit did the trick.

Bob called and came to my hotel room to pick me up.  He was dressed in a black tuxedo and looked 
just great.  We went out in style via chauffeured limousine to both a dinner at a swanky restaurant and 
proceeded to enjoy a live play just as he said.  Afterwards, while riding in the limo, Bob and I sat close 
and kissed each other deeply and passionately.  He held my hand the entire ride to his suite at the Hyatt 
Regency.  We could not get there fast enough as far as I was concerned.  On arriving, we stopped in 
the hotel restaurant for coffee and desert after which Bob invited me up to his suite.  Obviously, I 
eagerly accepted this next invitation.  I thought I was falling for him big time and I did not want this 
night to end.

How wrong could I have been!

He brought me up to his suite and excused himself as he turned on the radio and asked me to wait a 
few minutes while he attended to something in the bedroom.  The room was as large as a palace with 
plush carpeting combined with beautiful floor tiles.  There was a Jacuzzi in the far corner.  This was 
luxury to the extreme.  After relaxing about fifteen minutes on the comfortable sofa, Bob emerged 
from the bedroom and my eyes bugged out.

Bob had changed into the similar all black attire worn by the lead character in "Rocky Horror Picture 
Show".  He was wearing a leather corset with stuffing in his "breasts", panties, panty hose with a 
garter belt, skin-tight gloves that extended over each elbow and five-inch spiked high heels.  He was 
wearing a long black wig and his face was made up, eyelashes, rouge, lipstick, everything.  An instant 
observation that I made was that Bob's physique was decidedly soft.  His not-too-wide shoulders and 
larger-than expected arms were billowy and rather feminine.  His legs were long and slender, without 
much shape at all.  His body was hairless.  If I hadn't known better, Bob could easily pass for a female.  
This was a far cry from the impression I got from the way he had appeared so dapper in his tuxedo and 
throughout our evening together.  Bob was holding a whip in one hand and handcuffs and ropes in his 
other.  I did not know whether to fall down laughing or start to cry.  I was in total shock because I had 
thought that Bob was as straight a man as I have met.

I asked, "Bob, what the hell is this all about?  You never mentioned this.  Bob leered at me and said 
"you will refer to me as Mistress Barbara from now on.  Understand?  Now come here so that I can 
shackle you down properly."  I still couldn't believe that the man I thought was the most promising 
one I ever met could become this comic figure.  I answered tersely "Bob, I don't mind playing physical 
games before lovemaking. If you want to wear that paraphernalia during foreplay, it's fine with me, 
but I'm telling you in no uncertain terms, there is no way that I am going to allow you to put that crap 
on me.  If you want to dominate me then you will just have to do so for real.  I don't play fantasy 
games and I definitely will not be tied up."

Bob responded, "I am warning you for the last time, if you don't address me as Mistress Barbara and 
kneel down before me right now, I will force you to.  I promise that I won't hurt you if you comply 
immediately."  Now I was ticked off.  "Bob, up until three minutes ago, I was dying to make love with 
you, but now, you can kiss my ass.  Go play your wacko games with someone else and don't you dare 
threaten me."  I was disgusted that Bob had set me up for this all the while since we first met.  I now 
turned and walked towards the door that was about 20 feet away.

I heard his heels pitter-pattering in my direction, and I knew that I was about to take Bob on.  I was 
surprised at how well he moved in his shoes.  He had to have been wearing high heels for a very long 
time to be so adept at it.   He tossed the whip and ropes aside and was holding the handcuffs.  I turned 
quickly towards him and grabbed his hand.  I turned his wrist backwards quickly and grabbed the 
handcuffs from him.  I then threw them across the room and backed away.  I had surprised him with 
my aggressive move based on his facial expression when I turned his wrist.

Bob, obviously angered, said, "too bad you did that Dearie, now I'm going to punish you severely."  It 
was rare that a man was able to look me straight in the eyes, as I was usually taller than any of them 
with the effect of my heels.  Bob came at me and I grabbed his arms.  He started to push me as I 
pushed back.  Immediately I knew he had greater upper body strength than I did and was pushing me 
backwards across the room.  I got out of his handgrip as I pulled with all my might.  He kept coming 
towards me and pushed me backwards with both of his hands thrusting against my chest twice.  Since I 
knew I could not win a battle of brute strength, I was going to attack him with my fighting ability.  I 
doubted that Bob ever came up against any female as formidable as I was about to demonstrate.  I 
shouted at him, "Bob this is your last warning, if you touch me one more time, you'll be sorry you ever 
met me."  Bob angrily came forward while retorting, "I told you to call me Mistress Barbara", 
obviously convinced that I was incapable of  putting up much of a fight against him!  Those were the 
last words he ever spoke to me.

He came at me to push me once more, but this time I grabbed on and, simultaneously pulled him in 
towards me as I crushed him in the groin with my knee.  He slumped downward.  I pushed his head 
down until it was about at my waist level, when I lifted my knee quickly and with all of my strength to 
his face, hitting him squarely on his nose.  Blood started to flow freely from both of his nostrils, as I 
believe I had broken it with my kick.  Bob fell back from the force of the blow and was now on his 
back.  I then kicked him in his side several times as he began to moan.  I backed off for a second, and 
Bob was slowly beginning to get up.  Not wanting him to get another chance to fight back, as soon as 
he was almost erect, I laid him down again with a hard short right hand punch to his temple.  I was 
taught to throw short punches "through" a target while using the torque of my body to supply the 
punching power, rather than a long looping swing where the power comes from only the arm.  I 
considered this punch the best I ever delivered, as Bob would probably attest to if he could remember 
it.  Although Bob was not totally unconscious, all of the fight in him was gone.  He was sprawled out 
on the floor, totally beaten up.  All of my hard punching practice on the heavy bag in my basement 
came into play on this horrible evening.  

I then dragged Bob by walking backwards while holding him under his arms into the bedroom.  Next, I 
lifted him up and dropped him onto the bed.  Since it was obvious that Bob wasn't going anywhere, I 
quickly went back to the big room and found Bob's bondage devices that he brought out to use on me.  
I cuffed both of his hands to the brass headboard after looping the handcuffs through the rails.  I then 
tied his feet with the rope and attached the end of the rope to one of the front legs of the bed.  He 
absolutely could not move.  I then threw his whip next to him.  I looked through his dresser and found 
another pair of his panties which I used to gag his mouth.  

I then tried to stir him so that I could get his attention.  He looked up at me with glassy eyes.  "Now 
you listen to me very carefully Bob.  Don't ever call me again.  If I even get one wrong number on my 
answering machine, I will assume it was you and I'll come back for you.  For all I know, you 
bullshitted me about your background and occupation, so I'm going to go through your wallet and take 
your driver's license with me.  I'm going to do a check on you and get everything there is to get and 
when I find out what I need to know, I'll be able to trace you wherever you go.  I'll ruin your sorry life 
if you ever bother me again.  Do you understand?"  Bob didn't respond.  I mounted him with my knee 
on his chest and started to slap his face hard, front hand, then backhand a few times.  I paused my 
assault, raised my hand and formed a threatening fist which I held inches from his eye.  "I'm going to 
ask you only one more time.  "Do you understand?"  Bob nodded his head in the affirmative.  I then 
stood up and walked away.  

I went to the bathroom to clean all of Bob's blood off of me and then left the hotel, leaving Bob, who 
was still bloodied, for the chambermaid to deal with in the morning.  I wish I could have seen her face 
when she gazed on the package I left for her in the bedroom.

Final Discussion

Now guys, I know this story sounds far fetched, but I'm embarrassed to say that it happened just the 
way I described.  As I alluded to you before relating this story, I really felt that beating the crap out of 
Bob was the least he deserved, because he selected me to be used as nothing more than his helpless 
play toy, rather than enjoying the company of a viable woman with feelings.  He had deceived me from 
the beginning and I honestly had no clue as to his real intentions or his secret sex life.  In addition, I 
felt that Bob was dead serious in his fantasy and that he intended to really hurt and humiliate me.  As a 
result, beating Bob to a pulp did ease the tremendous disappointment I felt when he revealed his true 
self to me.  I still take great pride in teaching him the lesson he had coming to him.  

I have never seen or heard of a male transvestite "dominatrix" over a female before or since that night.  
Nor, did I ever hear from Bob again.  I'd bet this was the first time one of his "slaves" revolted against 
him, don't you think.

Well fellas, that's it for Story #2.  I'll be glad to hear your comments and let me know if you want to 
see Story #3 (FYI stories #3 and #4 are more in the line with Story #1).  I want to again thank all of 
you who took time out in providing me feedback on my first story.