A Loser's Look
by ibfeysaat18@gmail.com

Questions and comments to ibfeysaat18@gmail.com

A mixed boxing story with a beautiful predatory young woman and a man who
seems to attract girls who like to beat him up. She humiliated him. He is
me.

I have been a fan of female domination ever since that fateful day when I
saw the pretty little cheerleader beat up and humiliate the outclassed
dweeb way back in high school. I wrote about it in  Miscellaneous Thirty
Seven titled Afterschool Special.

I have managed to get beaten up by many women over the last 35 years or so.
There is something inherently sexy about getting beaten up by a woman. And
for guys like me and probably some of you, it happens over and over again.
Dominant women easily identify us and the rest is inevitable.

It's not our fault really. We can't help it. These dominant women just find
us. It's like we walk around with a sign around our necks reading "likes to
be beaten up and humiliated by women".

This was a lesson I learned a long time ago. I was one of those guys who
walked around with that sign around my neck saying "likes to be beaten up
and humiliated by women." I didn't even know I was wearing it. Most people
couldn't see it. But, to that small segment of the population, it was an
open invitation. Erin was one of those women who recognized the sign. She
was eager and willing to teach me a lesson. She taught me my lesson well.
And she savored every moment of that demonstration. In fact she enjoyed our
lesson so much, she was more than willing to refresh my memory any time I
wished.

Erin was one of those pretty Irish Catholic girls from a big family. She
learned to fend for herself as a very young girl. She had 9 older brothers
and sisters. Her brothers not only taught her to fend for herself, they
taught her to fight too. She learned that lesson well.

She is one of those conceited pretty blonde haired girls who always get
their way. The tall thin girl with the big blue eyes and little upturned
nose. High cheekbones and the wide mouth. The whole nine yards.

Her body was her temple. It also became my house of worship. She was
serious about the care and feeding of it. She was the workout queen. When
Erin did Aerobics, all eyes were on her. When she lifted weights, the men
stopped and stared. Guys used to fight for the right to spot her. 4 or 5
days a week she could be spotted perspiring and toning that mesmerizing
body. Whenever I saw her, I stopped and stared like every other guy. Only I
looked different than every other guy. And Erin picked up on that subtle
difference.

At first I thought I was imagining things. In my mind's eye Erin was
checking me out. It seemed like when I was checking her out that she was
observing me as well. Her expression was always that of being unimpressed.
Kind of like; oh you again. But I wasn't imagining things. Erin definitely
noticed me and she had a plan for me too.

I would picture myself on my knees with her standing over me. I would be
licking and worshipping her heavenly honey pot. Or I would be lying flat on
my back with Erin sitting on my face grinding out orgasm after orgasm. She
was my masturbatory fantasy girl. But I had never even spoken to her. And I
knew there was a reason why guys like me never get girls like her.

I was beginning to think that maybe I wasn't imagining things. She sure
seemed to notice me. Whenever we made eye contact she would make a subtle
dismissive gesture. It was as if she was talking to me with her eyes. She
was saying forget about it. You got no shot. I eat boys like you for
breakfast. Then one day she uttered something with her lips. As she was
walking past me she quietly spoke. "You couldn't handle it." She didn't
slow down. She didn't make a big deal about it. In fact, I'm sure nobody
else even noticed. But I heard it. I know I heard it.

I couldn't stop thinking about it. She noticed me. She spoke to me. I
wanted to show her that I could handle it. Whatever it was. I needed to
come up with a way to start a conversation with her. I just had to convince
her that I COULD handle it. It never occurred to me that she would start a
conversation with me.

There is a juice bar in the front of the health club. The next time I was
at the club I saw her. She was drenched in perspiration after a vigorous
Aerobics session. She was coming towards me. Her eyes locked on mine. Yes,
she noticed me and she was coming with something to say. I froze and
waited.

As she strode purposefully toward me she spoke again. "Let me buy you a
juice and give you a little advice."

"Ok."

"I'm Erin."

"Syd. Nice to meet you."

A moment later she brought me a bottle of apple juice and a bottled water
for herself. She sat down took a couple gulps of water and smiled at me.
She said "You look like the kind of boy who likes his appa juice." She
didn't say "apple juice." She said "appa juice." She was mocking me. She
was subtly calling me a little boy. "Let me give you a little bit of
advice. Stop leering at me. It's dangerous and you could get hurt."

"I don't know what you mean. I'm sorry but you're very beautiful and all
the guys can't help but check you out." I was afraid of where this might be
going. What did she know?

"Guys are always checking me out. Some pretend not to look. Some are
obvious. Some even stare. I'm used to it. I'm hot I know. But you, you're
different. You wear that look. It's like a sign around your neck. Do you
know what it says?"

No. I replied.

"Yes you do. You're the only one wearing it. I think I am going to ask you
a question. You will have to answer yes. If I asked that same question to
every other guy here, they would all easily and truthfully answer no. And
when I ask you this personal question, you are going to get nervous. Your
pulse will accelerate. Perspiration will begin forming all over you. You
will wonder how I know. Then you are going to embarrassingly nod your head
yes. And you and I both know what's going to happen next. Are you ready for
the question. The one that every other man here answers no to. Here it is.
Ready?

Have you been beaten up by a girl in the last 2 years?"

She was right. I was mortified. How did she know? Was it that obvious? She
knew my dirty little secret. "Are you going to beat me up?"

"Of course I am. You deserve it. It's what you secretly wanted. Boys like
you were put on this earth to get beaten up and humiliated by girls like
me. It's just the natural order of things."

How did you know, I asked.

"I can tell. I just know. I can't put my finger on it. The first time I saw
it was in high school. Me and a nameless boy were beginning to explore our
burgeoning sexuality. We had French kissed and gotten to second base. He
seemed to like it when I rolled us over and got on top. He used to look up
at me with that look in his eyes. It's the same look you have. I asked him
what was wrong. He hesitated before admitting that he wanted me to dominate
him. At first it was just wrestling and I would always pin him and then sit
on him. He craved it. He existed to worship me. My first real sexual
encounter was a dominant face sitting exhibition. My first orgasm with a
boy was achieved by rubbing my steamy teeny cunt all over his face and
mouth. Soon we tried boxing. I would beat him up and make him cry like a
baby and beg me for mercy. His crying and begging made me hot. We lost our
virginity together after our first boxing match. He was crying like a baby
and I basically raped him. I rode him to multiple orgasms while slapping
his face raw. After he achieved his first orgasm inside a real live
throbbing vagina, I slid forward and made him clean up his own mess. And he
loved every second of it. Obviously, I soon tired of him. He certainly
wasn't boyfriend material. But he more than served his purpose. I have seen
that look plenty of times since. Some of the lucky ones like you, ended up
getting beaten up and humiliated by me. Have you ever been beaten up in a
boxing ring? I have access to one you know.

I couldn't get over the fact that she could look at me and just know. If
she could see it, then other women were going to be able to pick up on it
too. This realization was frightening. I began to imagine that wherever I
went girls were waiting to beat me up. They were going to pass me around
from one boy beating girl to the next. There would be no place to hide.

On the other hand, I was just discovered by this young supermodel who had
discovered my secret and wanted to delight in punishing me for it. There
was that debilitating feeling of shame and dread that comes when you
realize that you've been found out. And you know that you are going to get
beaten up by girl. You can't help it as you find your embarrassing little
cock getting hard. And you feel shame because of it. And the jealousy of
knowing that she is going to delight in beating me up while I suffer
whatever indignations that she inflicts on me. And she wanted to beat me up
in a boxing ring.

I had boxed only a couple of women before Erin. It was always painful,
humiliating, and sexy to be punched out by a girl. The women really seemed
to like beating me up with their fists. All of them subjected me to
thorough face sitting exhibitions after the fight. Some during the match. I
relished them all. But none of them occurred in an actual boxing ring. I
found that I became more aroused than usual and terrified at the same time.
The girls who beat me were dominant girls but not trained boxers. Erin was
a trained boxer and that frightened me.

"No. I have never been beaten up in a boxing ring. I have boxed a few
girls, but they weren't trained boxers. They still had no trouble beating
me up. I wouldn't stand a chance against you."

"No. You wouldn't. I am going to cream you. But that's not the point. The
point is you were imagining what it would be like to get beaten up by me.
You gawk at me with that stupid look that screams "I'm a sissy boy who
needs to get beaten up and humiliated by dominant pretty girls." You show
off that look and girls like me are going to pick up on it. You deserve to
get beaten up and humiliated. And you will get beaten up and humiliated. I
could really humiliate you and beat you up right here right now in front of
the whole club. Or we can schedule a proper beating where I can beat you up
and dominate you in the comfort of a private boxing ring. But one way or
another, I am going to relish giving you the beating you so richly deserve."

A few nights later I entered a boxing ring for the first time in my life.
Thankfully, the gym was closed and not open to the public. Erin and I had a
boxing match. It was one sided. And yes she delighted in humiliating me
before, during, and after the fight.

Erin moved to New York a few months after our first fight. She was a model.
I saw her in a Women's magazine modeling summer clothing. She was so pretty
and looked so sweet and innocent. All I could picture was looking up at her
long legs as she was daring me to get back up.

Anyway, Erin taught me a valuable lesson. Be careful. If you want to get
beaten up by women, they will find you. There is nothing you can do about
it.

If anyone wants me to recap the actual match, send me a line to
ibfeysaat18@gmail.com.

Otherwise, be careful!