Battered Husband
By Hardie.
Mike is smashed to defeat by his tiny wife.  


A sequel to 'Losing to a Lesbian', from a suggestion by my neighbour in
Diana's Library Bookshelves, GW.

This story contains explicit sexual material, and should be read by adults
only.

The story so far. Mike discovered that his wife, Martha, was having a lesbian
relationship with her

self -defence instructor, Anne. Mike tried to break it up but was beaten up by
Anne, stripped naked and

forced to masturbate in front of the girls of the self defence class.
Completely subjugated, Mike had to agree

to Anne moving in with Martha. Mike became the women's domestic slave.

...............

Martha had experienced a welter of emotions since the fight. She had been
thrilled to see her huge hunk of a

husband fall before the savage fighting skills of her slender female lover.
Then, as she watched the man being

reduced from a proud male fighter to a sobbing wreck of broken manhood by the
merciless young girl, she

had felt a pang of sympathy from him. Now, as he slunk about the house, his
house, like a beaten cur, scared

of his own shadow, jumping to obey every command, however outrageous, all she
could feel was contempt.

Anne forced him to go naked around the house. She gave him an impossible list
of tasks to complete, then

beat him if they weren't done. Her favourite punishment was to make him stand
before her, feet astride,

hands on head. Then she would smile up at the man who towered over her, tense
with terror, then drop him

with a knee to his well hung balls.

"I can't understand why he just stands there and takes it," said Martha to her
lover, as the girls lay in bed

together. "Even I would try to fight back! He's just a muscle-bound wimp! And
you," she breathed,

snuggling into the girl, "are just a gorgeous little man-beating bully!"

"True," said Anne, smugly. "I love having a male slave and keeping him
subjugated. All men should be

slaves to women. That way the world would be a much better place. for women
anyway. And, of course,

we could enslave men if we wanted to. Any woman can beat a man if she just
takes the trouble to learn how.

I mean, you've been coming to my classes for six months now. You could beat
Mike just as I did...if you

wanted to!"

"What! Me! Never. He's twice my size, stronger, bigger.."

"Slower, more stupid, less skilful, less stamina, less will power, lower pain
threshold, and he has a lovely big

pair of balls. Any man, no matter how big, or how powerful he is," said Anne,
"can always be brought down

by a girl. All she has to do is kick him in the balls..hard! Fighting isn't
about size and strength. It's about

skill, determination, speed and the ability to think coolly under pressure.
You could beat him all right.

You're ready! Even a big, powerful guy like Mike is no match for a girl who
knows what she's doing! I

think we ought to go down to the gym tomorrow before class and get the two of
you in the ring. Think what

a lovely feeling it will be when you've got him lying at your feet, crying for
mercy, just like he did when I

beat him! I'm so sure you'll win I'm going to make Mike an offer he can't
refuse so that he'll do his best to

beat you, but he won't succeed!"

Having persuaded Martha into combat, Anne summoned Mike and told him what was
going to happen.

"And if you win, I'll go away," said Anne, "and you can have your wife back."
She took hold of him by the

balls and looked up into the man's face. "But you're not going to win, are you
Mikey," she twisted his balls

until his face contorted with pain, "because your wife is a woman, and a woman
who is a better fighter than

you!"

The next day, Mike, naked as usual in the presence of Anne, climbed into the
ring with mixed feelings. He

wasn't sure if he wanted Anne to go. He found her domination of him sexually
arousing. Although assuming

an air of permanent dejection, Mike had never felt so alive. The thrill of
being punished by an attractive girl

outweighed the humiliation he had to endure at her hands. The tension and fear
as she lined him up to kick

his balls, then the erotic ecstasy of looking up from the ground at the smooth
limbs and curvaceous body of

the girl who had floored him, made the blood course through Mike's veins in a
way it never had before, until

his cock surged in glorious, rampant erection.

Yet, here was a chance to regain his manhood. If he beat his lovely young
wife, then he could call the shots.

Well, it shouldn't take long, Mike thought. Martha was a tiny chit of a girl,
5'5" and 120lbs. A puff of wind

would blow her over, and she'd always been a gentle, submissive soul. Now she
stood, in the opposite

corner, ready to fight him, wearing the black cotton briefs he liked most and
a white aertex sports shirt

which made her look positively virginal and extremely vulnerable.

Mike felt his cock begin to rise as he took in the sight of his sexy little
wife in the outfit she knew turned him

on more than any other. He forced himself to think of the contest and resolved
to end this farce quickly and

get his life back on course.

When Anne gave the signal, he walked purposefully forward with the intention
of grabbing his elfin wife in a

bear hug and squeezing her into him until she submitted to his masculine
strength.

Martha waited, outwardly coy, yet her stomach churning with apprehension as
the massive figure of her

husband bore down on her. She knew the effect her outfit of black briefs and
white shirt had on him and

expected that he would be reluctant to hurt her. But she couldn't believe he'd
be so stupid as to leave

himself wide open like this!

As he reached out his muscle laden arms to grab her, Martha reacted to a
situation she'd been in a dozen

times in practice. The girl kicked her husband in the balls.

With a howl of distress, Mike folded over, clutching his balls, and sank
moaning to the canvas.

Martha was shocked by what she'd done. She knelt beside her stricken mate,
full of concern, and put her

hand on his heaving shoulder. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Mike. I didn't mean to hurt
you, it just happened. Are you

all right....?"

After the initial shock of the hit to his balls, Mike recovered rapidly. He
was used to much worse treatment

from Anne, so didn't feel too badly hurt. Now, all he wanted to do was repay
the girl who had hurt him, and

here she was, kneeling beside him, asking if he was all right!

Mike reached out as though pleading for help. Then, as the concerned woman
went to his aid, he pulled her

frail body into him and wrapped his arms round her slender waist.

"Gottcha!" he cried, triumphantly, as the girl let out a screech of alarm.
"Now give in before I crush your

ribs in!"

For a moment Martha was so furious at her treacherous male opponent, that she
didn't appreciate the

predicament she was in. "You rat!" she hissed. "I wanted to help you, and you
pull this dirty.. Ow!"

Mike applied some pressure, and brought the girl back to reality. Mike had
rolled onto his back, and held the

girl on top of him, his arms round her body, pinning her to his barrel like
chest so that her head rested under

his chin.

He squeezed her. "You'd better give in, my love," he said, not unkindly,
"before I break your ribs. I don't

really want to hurt you, so come on, give!" He applied more pressure.

Martha's body went limp. With a grunt of satisfaction, Mike let go and began
to roll her aside. Then the girl

was on him. Before he knew what was happening, the lithe young woman thrust
herself onto his chest,

grabbed the astonished man by the hair and jabbed her fingers into his eyes.

There was no mercy now in Martha's heart. Her husband's treacherous attack had
awakened all her dormant

aggression. All she wanted to do was hammer the man to defeat. She balled her
tiny fists as Mike screeched

in pain and brought his hands up to his damaged eyes.

Mercilessly, the girl straddled the man's chest and smashed punches into his
throat and face, loving the

sound of her female fist smacking into male flesh.

Mike's arms came up to ward off the girl's attack and Martha rolled away and
sprang lightly to her feet.

Eyes watering, Mike also tried to get to his feet, but was much slower than
his agile young wife. As he rose

on hands on knees, the pumped up virago drove her foot into his ribs. Mike's
body jolted with the force of

the blow but he kept coming. The girl caught him again as he got onto one
knee, her foot driving into the

side of his jaw, smashing his large head round to one side, almost causing him
to topple over again.

But Mike was strong. He pushed himself upright into a boxer's crouch and tried
to focus on the tiny female

fury who was causing all his pain.

"I can be tricky, too, lover boy," taunted Martha. "Now you're going to find
out what it's like to be beaten

up by your wife!" Fists whirling, the deadly young girl tore into her huge
male adversary. This wasn't her

husband any more. This was an enemy, and enemy to be destroyed. A man to be
conquered by a woman.

With deadly efficiency, the girl began to take the man apart.

Unable to see properly, Mike found it impossible to counter the girl's attack.
His fists shot out with

awesome power, but they didn't connect with anything as the nimble girl ducked
and weaved, swayed out of

danger, then struck back with fists like rapiers.

Toe to toe, the fighters waded into each other; two magnificent specimens of
their respective genders. A

huge, powerfully built, broad shouldered male against a gorgeous, lithe,
curvaceous, graceful female. Brute

male strength against female agility. And as they fought, it was the woman who
began to win the battle.

Again and again the girl's punches ripped through the man's defences, while
his own attacks floundered on

empty air.

Mike's arms began to feel like lumps of lead as he started to tire. Every time
his eyes cleared a little to allow

him to focus, a female fist smacked into them, and everything blurred over
once more.

The girls of the self defence class were arriving now, chattering and
squealing excitedly as they saw what

was going on in the ring. They were just in time to see the massively muscled,
naked male fighter being

slowly driven back before the flashing fists of his diminutive female
opponent.

Anne watched proudly as her pupil and lover manoeuvred her male victim into a
corner. Mike was taking

hits from all directions now, and, although none of his wife's punches were
devastatingly heavy, the

cumulative effect of her blows were considerable. Both the man's eyes were
puffed up, his top lip was split,

a trickle of blood seeped from his nose and his muscle-slabbed stomach was a
red blotch where the girl's

fists had wreaked their destruction.

Mike was desperate to get away from his wife's relentless attack. He couldn't
believe that he was being

thrashed like this by the gentle little girl he'd married. How could a girl
half his size do this to him! He'd

fought dozens of men as big and as strong as himself in the ring, and never
had he taken so much punishment

as he was receiving from the slip of a girl who was hammering him right now.
Ignominiously, he tried to

escape by running along the ropes!

Gleefully, Martha leapt after her fleeing husband and tripped him before he'd
gone three yards.

The hulking great male grabbed at the ropes to stop himself falling, missed,
and crashed to the canvas.

Martha was on him in a flash. Dropping onto his broad, muscular shoulders, the
girl smacked her fist into the

back and side of the man's neck, looking to strike his carotid artery to
finish him off. Somehow she missed,

then she marvelled at her husband's great strength as he rose to his knees
with her still astride his back,

smashing her fist into his neck as she held onto his hair with her other hand.

Mike determinedly ignored his wife's attack as he caught hold of the top ring
rope and began to pull himself

upright. The massive muscles in his thighs bulged with effort as the
powerfully muscled male drove himself

erect, determined to crush the tormenting female on his back by falling
backwards on top of her.

But Martha was having none of it. Realising she didn't yet have enough
knowledge to crush his carotid, the

girl leapt from her husband's back before he could do her any harm.

She also realised that she too was tiring. The pounding she had inflicted on
her husband had sapped much of

her strength. The man's massive body had absorbed a terrific amount of
punishment from her fists but he

was still upright and still capable of fighting back. Now she needed to finish
him off. She needed to bring her

strong, smoothly tanned, curvaceous legs into action.

As Mike turned to face her, his guard going up to protect his head and upper
body, the girl drove her foot

with devastating force into his stomach. Muscles which had stood out in
majestic definition at the start of the

fight, had been pulped by her murderous fists. They could take no more.

For a moment, it looked as if the huge young man was impaled on the girl's
foot as it sank into his gut. His

thick cock jumped up with the shock of the impact and slapped against the
girl's ankle before it flopped

down again to shudder between the man's mighty thighs. Then, with a woosh of
expelled air, Mike doubled

up.

Grabbing his head in both hands as it came down, the nubile young girl smashed
her knee into the

bewildered man's battered face. The force of the blow jerked Mike's body
upright for a second. Blood flew

from a broken nose as the man's huge frame shuddered with the impact, then
began to collapse.

Like a flash, the graceful girl whirled round, so her back was towards the
stricken male, slid one slim arm

round his neck as his mighty body crumbled, dropped to one knee, and, using
the momentum of his body's

descent, hauled downwards and sent the massive male warrior flying in a tangle
of nerveless limbs and

flopping cock over her slender shoulder to crash in a heap on the canvas.
Martha dropped alongside him

and, holding her right wrist with her left hand used her right elbow as a
cudgel to smash down again and

again into her husband's jellied stomach, accompanying each blow with shout of
'yes!', 'yes!', 'yes!' until

he passed out.

Mike sprawled on the floor, winded, unconscious, legs and arms splayed in the
shape of a cross as Anne and

her class cheered Martha as she stood over the helpless male fighter.

Before Mike treacherous attack on her, Martha would have left the matter
there. Now she was determined

to destroy him!

Her husband lay helpless at her feet. She, a slip of a girl, had smashed this
big, strong, powerful, massively

muscled male fighter to ignominious defeat. She was highly elated, but she
wanted more. She wanted to beat

him so convincingly that he'd never challenge her again. She wanted to destroy
his manhood, destroy his will

to fight, humiliate and humble him before her, a woman!

Sinuously, she sauntered across the ring until she stood over his prostrate
body. Her eyes ran over the man's

magnificent physique, a physique which she'd always believed to be so superior
to her own that she'd never

considered to challenge male physical dominance. Now this magnificent male
animal was at her mercy.

She straddled the man's heaving chest as he began to recover his senses.
Cruelly she picked her spot and

drove her fist into his once handsome, now bloodied face. She grasped him by
the hair, then brought her

clenched fist down like a mallet into her moaning husband's mouth. Then she
hit him again, and again..

The girls in the audience watched in awe as the sweet looking little girl,
with calm deliberation, smashed her

husband's face to a battered mess. "You can beg me to stop, dear husband,"
mocked Martha, "and I'll stop

beating you, otherwise..." Her fist clubbed into an already broken nose.

"Please stop," moaned Mike. "I beg you. Don't hit me any more." Tears rolled
down the man's face as he

begged his wife to stop punching him. His brain was numb with shock. The
little girl he'd married had

smashed him to defeat in a fight and made him beg her to stop hitting him. Now
she was standing up.

Martha stood over the defeated body of her husband. She straddled his deep,
manly chest, hands on shapely

female hips, her small, perfectly formed breasts straining against the fabric
of her white shirt as they swelled

with feminine pride at her momentous victory. And Mike saw her. Through his
tears and swollen eyes, he

looked up at the beautiful girl who stood in triumph over him and his cock
rose in tribute to her beauty and

her victory.

The young women in the audience gasped and giggled as they watched Mike's
thick, eight inch cock swell

into a massive erection as he lay under the feet of his female conqueror.

Martha realised what was happening and stepped back from the man's body. "Get
up!" she ordered.

Slowly, every movement causing him pain, Mike pulled himself to his feet.
"Feet astride, hands on head!"

barked his wife, and Mike knew what was coming.

He wanted to resist, to hurl himself at the chit of a girl who was humiliating
him in front of her friends, to

beat her to the ground with his mighty fists and establish his male supremacy.
But his will had gone. The girl

had smashed all the spirit out of him. A beaten man, he did as the woman
commanded.

Disgust welled up in Martha's breasts as she watched her mighty husband's
willpower crumble before her

own. 'No one should just stand there and get beaten without putting up a
fight,' she thought, 'especially a

man before a girl. What a despicable coward lies under all that mass of male
muscle. He's too scared to try

to stand up to me any more!'

Boldly the girl turned her back on the man who's will she had destroyed,
knowing that he was totally cowed

and would not even think about attacking her now. She held her arms up in
triumph for the girls to cheer - a

victorious woman who had smashed a mighty man to defeat and subjugated him to
her will.

Then, turning back to her trembling male victim, she looked up into the
battered, tear stained face of her

once respected husband, held him by the bulging muscles of his biceps and
disdainfully smashed her knee

into the terrified man's dangling balls.

Triumphantly, Martha climbed from the ring into her lesbian lover's welcoming
arms, while her husband

writhed in agony, crying into the canvas.

End