Bad Luck Ben: Episode III: Bad Luck Ben Again
By Littlesilverstar, silverstar222b@yahoo.com
Bad Luck Ben again gets beaten up by a girl

Hi. My name is Benjamin, but you can call me by my nickname, Bad Luck Ben,
which I gave myself because I often get beaten up by girls. Well, it happened 
again. Once more I got beaten up by a beautiful woman. Here's the story.

I get free food from Al's Diner, where I work as a short-order cook, but
let's face it, the food sucks. So I'm always looking for new places to eat. A
few weeks ago, I discovered this little shop that has the best sandwiches. I
started going there about two or three times a week.

The first time I went there, I noticed this beautiful blonde girl dressed in
tight clothes. I drooled over her while I ate and fantasized about what it
would be like to be with her. I looked at her longingly when she left.

Imagine my surprise and delight when I saw here there again the next time I
went to the sandwich shop. I studied her more closely. At about 5'9", she was
a couple of inches taller than me. Her long blonde hair went down to the
middle of her back, and she had piercing blue eyes and an elegant,
high-cheekboned face. She was deeply tanned all over, obviously a very healthy
and outdoorsy girl. Although she was slender - she looked maybe around 130
pounds - she was also very toned and muscular, while still appearing very
feminine.

She turned out to be present almost half the times I was there. She always wore 
tight, low-cut pants with a brown or black leather belt, and some form of tight 
top, whether sleeveless, short-sleeved, or three-quarter length sleeved. I enjoyed 
the views of her powerful biceps and triceps with the shorter sleeves, and when 
she wore three-quarter length sleeves I focused on her heavily muscled forearms. 
Her midsection was always bare, showing off a hint of her rock-hard, tanned 
six-pack abs.

One thing that stood out was that she was always alone. I would have thought a
stunning girl like that would have a boyfriend, or several. Hell, a woman that
hot could probably openly announce to a boyfriend that she was cheating on
him, and he'd stay with her anyway because of her beauty.

A crazy idea began to take shape in my mind...ask her out. I knew she was way
out of my league, but I *thought* the worst thing that could happen was that
she would say no. How I wish that had been true.

As it turned out, she ended up approaching me first. One day, I was just about
to leave after finishing my sandwich and chips when she came up to my table. "I've 
seen you staring at me," she said.

I immediately blushed and looked down at the remnants of my sandwich. "I...I'm
sorry," I stammered, not daring to look at her now.

"It's okay," she replied. I looked up eagerly, a glimmer of hope in my eyes.

"It's obvious that you like me," she continued. "Nothing wrong with that. I
just thought I'd like to get to know this guy who likes me."

My heart was now beating very fast. Just getting attention from this feminine
beauty was a dream come true.

She shook my hand. Her grip was very powerful. "I'm Kate."

"Hi, Kate. I'm Bad Lu...er, Ben. Yes, that's it, Ben." I was wincing, both
from almost blurting out my silly nickname and from her crushing grip. She
didn't seem to have any sort of negative reaction, however.

Kate told me she was twenty-six years old and a guidance counselor at a local
high school. She asked me lots of questions about my job, my hobbies, and my
dating life. On the dating life questions, I tried to embellish my (terrible)
record somewhat while not exaggerating too much and making it unbelievable.

After a while, she looked at her watch (she was wearing a man's
watch...somehow, maybe because of her large wrists, she made it look natural
and even elegant on her) and announced that she had an appointment to get to.
She asked me for my phone number, which I gladly gave her. She told me she
would call me soon and with a final wave of her toned arm was gone.

I sat there long after she had left, trying to make sense of it all. Was she
really interested in me? What would a stunner like her ever see in a loser
like me when she could have any guy she wanted? Would she call me? Obviously
something about me had her attention - she had spent a fair amount of time
talking with me. I spent so much time thinking, in fact, that I ended up being
late for work, which got me chewed out good by my boss, the obnoxious Al.

Two days passed with no word from her, but on Sunday afternoon I was delighted
and a little surprised when she called. She invited me to go to the park with
her and said she'd pick me up right away if I gave her directions to my place.

Kate pulled up in a brand-new white Infiniti sedan. I looked at the luxurious
vehicle with admiration, then over at my own ride parked nearby on the street,
an ancient beat-up Ford Escort. I hoped she wouldn't notice. Damn, high school
counselors must have gotten some serious raises since I had been in school.

She was dressed in her usual low, hip-hugging jeans, brown belt with fancy
buckle, and tight white T-shirt. She didn't have a bra on, but her super-firm
34C's (I was guessing they were 34C's) didn't need one.

She greeted me in a friendly tone and we made small talk while she drove us to
the park. When we got there, she retrieved a football from the back seat and
suggested we play catch.

I gulped nervously. I had succeeded in hiding the worst parts of my dating
life and my crummy car from her, but now she was about to find out how
unathletic I was. In physical education at school, I had been laughed at
because most of the girls could throw farther than me. I was just as bad at
catching - I had jammed my finger once while trying to catch a ball. The
laughter from the other students, especially the girls, had been really bad
that day.

I knew from personal experience that my lack of athleticism was always a
deal-killer when it came to girls. A few of them were willing to tolerate my
unattractive looks and lack of career success, but when they found out I was
less athletic and physically weaker than they were, they always became
disgusted and abandoned me.

"Um..." I began hesitantly. "I'm really not good at athletic stuff."

She smiled. "That's okay. Come on, let's go." I hoped she meant it when she
said it was okay.

She tossed the ball at me. Although it was clear she wasn't using her full
strength, her throw was still quite hard and I missed the ball. As I went to
fetch it, I saw out of the corner of my eye a pair of pretty teenage girls,
pointing and laughing.

Trying my best to ignore them, I looked back at Kate as I held the ball in my
hands. I knew I wasn't capable of throwing it that distance - we were about
thirty yards apart and I had never been able to throw a football more than
twenty yards.

I took several steps forward before launching a clusmy, girlish throw. Despite
my steps forward, Kate still had to run forward herself to catch the ball.

I could only make catches when she deliberately threw the ball very gently,
and even then I sometimes missed. My throws, on the other hand, were done as
hard as I could, but never went even as far as her gentle throws. Mine were
also highly inaccurate and Kate usually had to run several steps to catch the
ball. Despite that, she made every single catch.

Finally I said, "I really think I'm not a good throwing partner for you."

Strangely, she seemed genuinely happy. Was this feminine beauty as gorgeous on
the inside as she was on the outside? Could this be the first girl I knew who
was actually cool with my lack of athleticism and strength?

"That's okay," she said. (I loved it when she said that). "Not every guy has
to be a great athlete."

"Thanks," I answered. "And...well, I just wanted to tell you that I really
admire girls like you who are great athletes. Could you...um...show me just
how far you can throw? There's some distance markers over there."

I hoped she wouldn't think my request was too weird, but she simply moved into
position, drew back her tanned right arm, and fired off a long, elegant, and
powerful throw. The ball went past the 45-yard marker.

"Wow," I said.

She grinned and did a celebratory standing back tuck, landing perfectly on her
feet.

At that, my cock got almost instantly hard. Three things get me particularly
turned on: Girls who can throw really far, girls with big, muscular forearms,
and girls who can do gymnastics.

Hoping she wouldn't notice my erection, I applauded and said, "Great flip. Can
you...um...do a tumbling pass?"

"Sure." She tensed her muscular body in preparation for a tumbling run. She 
started with a front tuck somersault, then went into a roundoff, a pair of
whipbacks, four one-armed back handsprings (alternating arms as she
handspringed), another whipback, and finishing with a kick-full. She landed
perfectly again a few feet near me, her long tumbling pass having covered most
of the distance between us.

"Oh my God," I blurted out, even more amazed now. I hadn't expected her to be
*that* good. "Were you on your college gymnastics team?"

"Cheerleader," she said casually.

I nodded absentmindedly, still erect. I loved watching the cheerleading
competitions on TV and on the Internet where girls did complicated tumbling
moves and passes.

We bought some hot dogs from a park vendor, then sat on a bench and talked
while we ate. Finally she drove me back home and said she'd call again soon.

Now really convinced I was getting somewhere with Kate, I decided that there
was at least one way I would be able to impress her and maybe get further. I
went to a jewelry store and bought an expensive gold and sapphire bracelet. I
may be short, weak, unsuccessful, and can't throw or catch for shit, but at
least I could buy her an expensive gift, I thought.

Just thinking of the time I had spent with her and the times she had smiled at
me was making me giddy. I've always been kind of a pessimist, but now, I
thought, maybe it was time for that to change.

I should have stayed a pessimist. I was falling hard for her, and love can be
very blinding. Normally cautious and reserved, I let my guard down and started
foolishly becoming convinced that nothing would go wrong with her.

Two days later, Kate rang my doorbell unexpectedly right after sunset, without
calling beforehand. She was dressed differently this time. She had on a
soldier's outfit - camoflauge pants (still tight and still low-cut), a
camoflauge top with three-quarter length sleeves, displaying her big forearms,
black military boots, black wrist-length leather gloves, and even a black
beret. Her blonde hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, and she was carrying
an army-style duffel bag. Her outfit made her look tough and macho, but also
sexy and feminine, at the same time.

"Kate!" I cried out, breaking out into a major smile. "So good to see you
again! Come in!" She smiled back as she entered and closed the door behind her.

"Oh, I got you a present," I said, presenting the bracelet to her.

"Thanks," she said. She looked down at her clothes and giggled. "This
doesn't really match with what I'm wearing now, but luckily I wear feminine
clothes too." She put the bracelet on anyway. It still looked good on her.
Anything would look good on her.

I laughed with her, growing more comfortable. (Wrongly). "There's a reason I
chose a bracelet as the gift," I spoke up.

"And what was that?"

"Um...Well, it's kind of weird."

"It's okay, honey. You can tell Miss Kate."

"Okay. Well, I've noticed that your wrists and forearms are big, and I find
that very sexy. That's my favorite female body part. I wanted something that
would draw attention to your strong feminine wrists."

She had a poker face. Unreadable. Finally she grinned and said, "Yep, I've got
big arms." Her slightest movement caused her forearm muscles to ripple, since
they were so well-developed.

"Bigger than yours," she continued, placing her forearm next to mine. She was
right. Her thick wrist looked tanned and powerful next to my thin, pale, weak
one.

"You've got arms like a girl," she went on. "And that ties in with what I have
planned for tonight." She raised her duffel bag.

"What's that?" I asked. Although most guys would have been insulted, I wasn't
most guys. The thought of being weak and being with a stronger girl turned me
on.

"Close your eyes," she instructed. "You'll see in a few seconds."

I did as I was told. A few moments later, she said, "You can open them now."

I looked around and saw a knee-length burgundy skirt and a pink tank top laid
out on the floor next to the now-open duffel bag.

"Here's the thing," Kate began. "I'm a strong, aggressive woman and as you
might guess, I like being the dominant one in the bedroom. But I like taking
things farther than that. I like playing the masculine role while my weaker
male partner plays the feminine role. That's why I'm dressed like this
tonight. And that's what those are for." She pointed to the skirt and tank
top. "I want you to put those on. I want you to be the girl while I'm the
man."

Now a normal guy would have called her a crazy weirdo and refused to do it.
But like I said, I'm not a normal guy. I like being submissive. Although I had
never gone so far as to engage in gender role-reversal, I wasn't thinking
about that. All I was thinking was, "If I do this, I'll get to have sex with
the hottest chick ever!" Yep, I was thinking with THAT head instead of the
right one.

So I took off my normal clothes and put on the skirt and tank top. They fit me
just right. A women's size 8 was perfect for my scrawny body, I thought,
reading the labels.

"Now before we get to it," Kate continued, "I want you to do some things for
me to get me turned on and in the mood."

"Anything for you, Miss Kate," I said heavily. My erection was showing through
the burgundy skirt.

She ordered me to do a whole bunch of various stereotypically girly things. I
strutted like a fashion model. I pretended to fix hair and makeup in the
mirror. She even gave me her new bracelet to wear, although it was too loose 
for me. (I had gotten a large one to fit her big wrist). And she even went so far as 
to make me bend over, lift my skirt, and wave my ass in the direction of the 
bookshelf. I stupidly and foolishly did it all without question.

"Very good, girly boy," she said finally. "Stand up and face me."

Once again I obeyed. She came up to me and placed her hands on my shoulders. I
looked up into her deep blue eyes. It was also a turn-on that she was taller
than me.

"Close your eyes," she purred. "I have a really fun surprise for you."

I closed my eyes eagerly, thinking this was it. Now the sex part would begin.

Suddenly, a devastating impact smashed into my groin with extreme force. As my
eyes flew open, my hands flew to my crippled testicles and I collapsed to the
floor in the fetal position. I saw Kate with her knee raised. She had kneed me
in the crotch.

"Wh...Why?!" I managed to squeak out in a high-pitched voice, my face showing
a devastated look of pain, both physical and mental.

The beautiful blonde laughed evilly. "You pathetic, stupid little bitch," she
sneered. "Did you really think I liked you? Did you really think I enjoyed
your company? Did you really think I would ever have sex with you? And did you
really think I was in love with you?" She said the word 'love' with special
disdain. "Man, I knew you were dumb, but I didn't think you were *this* dumb."

"Kate, I thought..." I stammered.

"Thought what, faggot?" she smirked. "Thought you'd score with me? Thought you
could use me as something to get off on your disgusting, creepy fetishes?" She
counted on her fingers. "Let's see, there's your love of girls who can throw
far, your crush on girls who can do gymnastics, and last but not least, your
worship of girls with thick forearms. Maybe if you could throw like a man, had
arms like a man, and could tumble like a man (from watching lots of
cheerleading and gymnastics videos, I knew that the best tumblers tended to be
male), you wouldn't have those perverted fetishes. You weakling males must get
some kind of sick thrill from seeing a woman do what you can't do."

What could I say to that? She was right. I did get a thrill from that.

I tried to get up, but Kate rammed her knee into my face, breaking my nose,
releasing a spray of blood, and knocking me down again.

Semiconscious, I watched hazily as she removed her boots, pants, and camo top.
She was now dressed in white panties and a very small and tight white T-shirt
with no bra. Her erect nipples were clearly visible. The white clothes showed
off her tan to an amazing degree. Her darkly tanned, rock-hard abs looked
especially beautiful between white panties and white shirt. Her semi-long
black leather gloves covered up the smallest part of her arms, making her
forearms look even bigger. She also undid her ponytail, letting her long
blonde hair fall free. She tossed her hair, making it look wilder and more
feminine.

Once she had removed her camo pants, she put her boots back on and began
walking towards me. The muscles in her slender but powerful thighs rippled as
she advanced.

There was a flash of movement, then a searing pain in my side, accompanied by
a sharp CRACK. Kate had delivered a lightning-fast kick with her military
boot, breaking one of my ribs. She laughed at her dominance over me. I began
to cry. She laughed harder. I was in too much pain to move.

"You pathetic little twat," she taunted me. "I'm brutalizing you, but I bet
you're still turned on by me. And if I did something to provoke your fetishes,
I bet you'd get even more turned on. In fact, let's test that right now."

With that, she clapped her hands together cheerleader-style, then began doing
a series of powerful standing back handsprings away from me. She did her
handsprings one-armed, alternating arms as she flipped again and again. After
a dozen perfect handsprings, she completed her standing tumbling run with a
high split-leg layout.

"Thought that was good? You ain't seen nothing yet." She now tumbled back
towards me, in a running tumbling pass this time. She did a roundoff, three
whipbacks, a full twist, two back handsprings, two more whipbacks, and finished
with a double full. She landed perfectly despite the difficulty of her
tumbling pass, especially that last move.

"Is little girly-boy turned on?" she mocked me. She stomped on my face with
her big black boot. "Does he want his mommy to come and save him?"

"Please, Miss Kate," I begged.

Kate jumped onto me, letting me feel the weight of her athletic body on top of
me. She made a big, gloved fist, then punched me in the jaw with it. Two of my
teeth bounced loose, sailing across the room, and a third tooth wobbled
dangerously in my mouth. "That won't work, little bitch," she said coldly.

She climbed off of me. "Now get up, cunt," she growled.

I simply groaned in pain. She made that big fist again. "If you're not up in
five seconds, your groin gets it," she threatened. Gulping in fear, I
staggered to my feet as best I could.

As soon as I finished standing, Kate's massive, cruel, leather-covered fist
smashed into my right eye, turning it black. I would have fallen if she hadn't
caught me. She straightened me out, then licked her lips as if trying to
decide what kind of attack to do next.

Summoning all my strength, I punched her as hard as I could in the stomach.
Seeing it coming, she tensed her abs, making them even harder. I cried out in
agony as my small fist hit what felt like a brick wall. My cry was accompanied
by sharp crunching sounds, indicating that some of the bones in my hand were
now broken, such was the strength and hardness of the tanned blonde's abs of
steel.

Kate laughed in my face. "Weakling," she giggled. "Now here's what a strong
woman can do to weak abs." With that, she kneed me in the gut with brutal
force and astonishing speed. I doubled over in unbelievable pain. It felt like
a truck had hit me there. The world's fastest truck.

"Say good night, pussy." Her long, slender, muscular leg came at the side of
my head in a high roundhouse kick. There was a massive THUMP, then all I saw
was darkness.

When I woke up, I saw that Kate was now completely nude, except that she was
still wearing her black leather gloves. She was a natural blonde, I observed,
looking at her blonde pussy hair, which was trimmed into a heart shape. Her
firm, round, natural 34C's looked better than any pair of breast implants.

I felt a cool breeze on my body and looked down. I was naked too. The burgundy
skirt and pink tank top were piled in a corner next to my regular clothes. My
cock had already become erect at the sight of Kate's nude muscular body.

She looked over at me. "So you're awake." Her glance traveled to my dick and a
look of scorn appeared on her high-cheekboned face. "Tiny little pervert cock.
You losers are all the same." My fully-erect length was only four and a half
inches. It was one of the many things I was ashamed of.

"Now I want you to masturbate that kiddie-sized prick of yours," she said
tauntingly. "And I'll even help you by giving you a show based on one of your
sick fetishes. I've already done gymnastics moves and this room is too small
to showcase how far I can throw, but I'll have my forearm muscles dance for
you." With that, she reached into her duffel bag and took out a sword.

She began twirling it with expert speed and skill, causing the muscles in her
massive forearms to ripple with greater speed and definition than I'd ever
seen them do before. My cock got even harder.

"If you don't start jerking off right now, I'll use this sword to cut your
dick off," she threatened. That got me going. I began wanking off furiously.
Less than thirty seconds later, I shot my load halfway across the room.

She laughed. "Loser. Can't even last half a minute. At least you shoot far."

"My turn," she went on. She dropped the sword and slid herself onto my face in
a perfect 180-degree split. God, she was flexible. I used my tongue to
pleasure her blonde cunt until she came violently all over my face. She did a
back walkover to get back to her feet.

Seeing her do those splits and that back walkover got me hard again, even
though I had just came. Noticing, she kicked me hard in the groin. Even
barefoot, her kick did devastating damage. My hands immediately flew to my
brutalized family jewels and I knew that I wouldn't be getting another
erection for quite a while.

Finally she said, "I suppose you want to know why I did all this." She was only
saying that to prepare for what was obviously going to be a gloating speech, but
I nodded anyway. I was too injured to resist in any way, physically or mentally, 
and I was also genuinely curious why she had set me up so sadistically and 
brutalized me so badly.

Kate walked over to the bookshelf and held up a small video camera. "I put
this here when I told you to close your eyes. It's taped everything that's
happened since then. All the humiliating things I put you through, all the
beatings, all those faggoty girly things you did, and especially you wiggling
your ass directly at the camera. After I knocked you out with my roundhouse
kick, I hacked into your computer and went to your bank's website. I
transferred all the money from your account into my Cayman Islands bank
account. Then I set up a monthly transfer that will send a thousand dollars
each month from your account to mine. That should leave you just enough to
live on. If you cancel the transfers, if you go to the police, or if you try
any other stupid stunt, I'll post this video on the Internet. I'll make sure
to post it on lots of gay porn sites. And I'll also make sure that the few girls 
who have any respect for you right now see this video. They sure as hell won't 
respect you anymore after seeing it. So you'd better do as I say."

"But how...?" I moaned.

Kate laughed. "Do you think I did all this on a whim? I've had plenty of
practice. I'm always very thorough. I saw you, had chosen you as a mark, and
was stalking you before you even knew I existed. I've been following you.
I've been tapping your phone. You never noticed me until I wanted you to
notice me. I even made sure to be at the sandwich shop only some of the times
you were there so there would be no chance of you getting suspicious."

Sheesh. This chick was a true sociopath. "How many?" I asked weakly.

"Oh, you don't need to know the exact number. But more than a dozen."

Damn. Twelve guys she'd done this to - each paying her a thousand smackers a
month, or perhaps more...no wonder she had that brand new Infiniti.

As if reading my thoughts, Kate smirked, "Some of them are richer than you and
pay more than a thousand a month. That Infiniti ain't my only brand new luxury
car. Oh, and speaking of cars, you really should get a new one to replace that
rusting old Ford Escort. That one ain't gonna give you many more miles. Of
course, it'll be hard to save up the cash, what with you paying me a grand a
month and all." She laughed cockily. Damn. So she *had* noticed the car. I 
couldn't even claim that small victory.

"You're not really a high school counselor, are you?" I groaned.

"Oh, I used to be. Now with all the money I get, I don't need a job, so I told
the principal to 'take this job and shove it'. But even when I had the job, I
never gave a fuck about the students. Caring is for suckers. If you start
caring for others it makes you weak and opens up a vulnerable spot. I only
took that job because it made people *think* I cared and therefore nicer to
and more trusting of me."

"By the way, that playing catch at the park thing is a test I use to see if my
potential marks are weak and unathletic and easy to beat in a fight," she
added. "It was just a coincidence that one of your creepy perverted fetishes
happened to match that."

She wasn't finished. "Oh, and while you were unconscious I took the liberty of
going through your apartment and taking your jewelry, your DVD collection,
your coin collection, your stamp collection, and the petty cash you have lying
around," she said, pointing to her now-full duffel bag. "I don't want you
taking the easy way out and selling or pawning your luxuries to pay me. Don't
worry, I left you your essential things like your microwave and your computer.
I need you to be able to keep sending me money month after month, for life. By
the way, since I drained your bank account and took all your petty cash, you
may want to ask your boss for a payday advance. Oh, and I've already taken
your TV and loaded it into the trunk of my car. You don't need the idiot box.
You're so pale and weak anyway, you really need to get outdoors more and get
more exercise."

"And speaking of health." She looked me up and down, focusing on my broken
nose, broken rib, and the broken small bones in my hand. "Since I took all
your money, I sure hope you have health insurance!" she laughed. Her gaze
traveled to my missing and damaged teeth. "And dental insurance!" she added.

Kate then tossed her long blonde hair elegantly. "Well, I'd better get going.
I'd better see that money coming into my account every month. You know what'll
happen if I don't." She picked up the video camera and tapped it threateningly.

She quickly redressed in her camoflauge soldierette outfit, looking like a
female warrior who had just conquered. And she had. She slipped her small
video camera into her pocket and picked up her duffel bag. She blew me a
mocking kiss and then was gone.

I lay crying on the floor for a long time after she had left.

THE END...for now

Contact me at silverstar222b@yahoo.com if you liked this story!