Bitch Slap by Glassjaw Dear readers: This story is a work of pure fiction and any resemblance to physical locals, names or descriptions of the characters are strictly coincidental. Bitch Slap I sat outside alone in her waiting room, if one could call it that. Its simplicity and lack of amenities was utilitarian and purposive. We were not there, I was not there, to be amused, coddled or in any way made to feel comfortable. The drab walls lacked ornamentation and the seats were murder on the lumbar. The one thing she did have in that room was a large pair of speakers and a mirror. A computer generated sign indicated that before entering her inner sanctum as it were, one had to look at themself. The sign said that once stepping through that portal, one's looks would be a thing of the past. ...mmmmmmmmm......... very effective psychological ploy is it not. Not long after, the speakers were turned on to full volume and the first thing I heard was whimpering and then a shot....only it wasn't from a gun, it was an open hand striking a face. The microphone was so sensitive in that room that I could actually hear two teeth fly across the room and land in a metal container of some sort. After that, real intense crying began, the whimpering was a thing of the past. I heard a female Teutonic voice, very stern commanding someone to stop bleeding on her and direct the flow into the proper receptacle. "Gott en Himmel, can you do nothing right liebshen." Then I heard a rapid succession of opened handed slaps backwards and forwards, spaced to deliver maximum effect. After the 6th one, I could hear several more teeth land in the correct spot as the victim remembered to comply with his female tormentor's command. There was silence for about 20 seconds and then I again heard that now familiar voice command her victim to wake up, as his beating would resume only after he had done so. He was paying for a full session and a full session he was getting. I could imagine what was going on inside. I pictured this commanding goddess to be older, wiser, and more brutal. In my mind I could see her lifting up this poor schmuck's head and bring him around ,by having him sniff her powerful biceps especially her underarms. I was amazed when I heard her say, "Sniff little one, inhale deeply its time to continue.!" It was at that time that I came in my very tight jeans. The cum explosion was so forceful and complete that it covered my legs completely. This continued, the beating, the verbal humiliations, the disfigurement of the man inside. Finally she must have glanced at her watch or the clock because she brought the session to a close in a very dramatic way. I could hear a succession of... "no no no No NO NO more, please!"Her reply was," lift your face up to me, you vimp, higher now. Good! Do not move." Then I heard one last crack, it sounded like a cannon going off and I could hear several bones breaking, fragmenting and then something dropped to the floor. Then all was silent. After this, she was talking to herself saying, You have a hard jaw for a man, it only broke in 5 places...usually it falls apart after my coup de grace....hahahahaha." The last thing I heard was some sort of gurney being moved around and another internal door opened and shut quickly. I sat there stunned, excited, sexually turned on by this woman, her power over men, and my soon to be meeting with her. I did not have long to wait. I heard a "Next" and I stopped by the mirror, looking at myself, at my visage, my roman nose, my square jaw. An impatient Germanic voice said, "Come here now vimp, its time to play." I hurried inside. What I saw startled me. I saw a very beautiful dark haired woman. She look like she weighed around 190 lbs. Her huge arms, now sweating profusely, must have measured at least 17+ inches and her legs seemed to mushroom to an amazing 27". Her full chest was dripping sweat and all 45" were visible to me. She had a non nonsense look about her and she wore dark horn-rimmed glasses to accentuate her stern persona. She was wearing black vinyl pants and muscle top of the same material. It was splattered with fleck of, streaks of, oceans of red gore. Her huge hands had special gloves fitting her perfectly so that ever knuckle was highlighted and raised. She told me to sit in something that looked like a dental chair. It could be raised or lowered at will. I complied instantly. Seeing my immediate compliance, she smiled and said, "Good. My name is Gretchen and I am here to give you the beating of your puny worthless life. For the next hour I am going to abuse you, rearrange you, demolish you and lastly remove you. Every time she said the word You, she would flex her huge biceps making them dance, making me cum again almost in a Pavlovian manner. "First you must clean me up, vimp as I am covered in red puss and gore. Ger started NOW!" Well I was unsure where to begin so I automatically went to her fists and began licking the blackened vinyl knuckles of her hands. It tasted coppery, and in some places the mess had dried so I had to use more saliva to clean and remove the red tinged material. Then I cleaned each arm, getting a real whiff of her underarms as well. It was not unpleasant though, just sweat mixed with animal power and dominance. I then cleaned her chest, her pants, everywhere until all the offending material was dissolved by my mouth. Finally she said, "ENOUGH!" and I stopped and sat back. She approached me slowly, like a big cat after its humble prey. I began to whimper, because I knew I was in for the most intense, pain and suffering of my life. Just then I heard the outer door open and the squeak of a chair for someone was waiting for his "appointment", just as I had been. "Ah, my 4 o'clock is early! Come liebshen let us play." With that she ran her hand along my face, feeling its contours ,planning her assault. For the next 40 minutes she broke everything on my face, my jaw, my nose, my teeth, my eye sockets, my cheek bones. This was done slowly and very methodically, as a doctor might perform a surgical procedure. Finally, she was ready to apply her coup de grace as a fitting ending to our session. Like her previous victim ,she raised me to consciousness my having me smell her now very intense underarms. To make sure I was awake. She even placed my head on one muscular peak ,and began to flex, making my head bounce like it was some wild disconnected organ. I awoke as blood, teeth fragments, puss, gore and assorted other gory materials oozed from my face. She raise my head up, since it would not stay there without assistance . She measured me for that last resounding, immense, powerful, all wrecking slap. I could see her draw back her hand almost like she had a golf club in her grasp. She let loose with her arm propelling towards my broken once- face. When it connected, any tooth that was still in my mouth shot out into the air and landed in her dental receptacle. In retrospect, when her hard steel like knuckles connected, I shot so much goo that my jeans were filled. Of course I can't remember that at all. I now reside in a nursing home, talking nourishment via a tube stuck down my throat. I will never speak again or use any facial organs for that matter. I do remember one thing though, crazy as it may seem. I remember Gretchen calling, 'Next" as she wheeled me out to the waiting ambulance. From that point one I can't recall much of anything. Vegetables, can't you see. Oh and in case you are wondering dear reader, my jaw did fragment and fall off from her very powerful coup de grace.