Bad Luck Ben: Episode IV: Christmas in May
By Littlesilverstar, silverstar222b@yahoo.com
It's definitely NOT like Christmas in May for Bad Luck Ben

Hey, guys, it's Bad Luck Ben again. You may remember me as the guy who got
beaten up by Tania, Marie, and Kate. Yep, being a small, skinny, unathletic,
socially awkward guy naturally leads to getting beaten up a lot by girls. And
now, it's happened yet AGAIN.

Kate not only beat me up, but she also made me do a lot of sexually
humiliating things and secretly videotaped both those and the beating. She was
using the tape to blackmail me, making me give my valuables and most of my
paycheck to her, leaving me just barely enough to live on.

It was now May, and I was looking for a Mother's Day present. To give an idea
of just how hard Kate was squeezing me, I had been able to set aside just two
dollars for each of the past six weeks for my mom's present. I was just barely
keeping up with my expenses with the little Kate left for me, and this with
eating as cheaply as possible. Any more and I would have to resort to eating
dog food. To add insult to injury and reinforce my nickname of Bad Luck Ben,
the diner where I work quit giving its employees free food. Just when I needed
it most.

So there I was at the mall one Sunday afternoon, trying to find a nice present
that could be had for my twelve dollars. Nothing seemed to fit the bill,
however. It was getting close to five and the stores were closing early as
they did on Sundays. I decided to try another place, another day. Mother's Day
still wasn't for another week.

I was heading for the exit when I happened to glance into the window of one of
the shops I was passing by. An exceptionally beautiful girl was alone behind
the counter, going through some papers. I considered going in. Why not, I
finally decided. I hadn't talked to a pretty woman since Kate, and I really
wanted to get the satisfaction of just flirting with a hot chick. I had been
in a deep depression and was desperate for anything to get me out of it. Maybe
I'd even find a present for my mom in there.

It was a small women's clothing store, one of those upscale, hip ones that
were expensive and catered to young, fashion-conscious women. I knew I
wouldn't find the right present here. It was out of my budget and anyway there
was nothing there that a woman my mother's age would like. Still, I could try
to flirt with the salesgirl, right?

She still hadn't noticed me. Thinking about the beatings from Kate, Tania, and
Marie caused doubts to form in my mind. All of them had come from trying to
flirt with an attractive girl. What if it happened again? I was thinking about
leaving, but then I took a closer look at the woman.

This chick was exactly what I was attracted to, physically, which meant that
she was muscular, athletic, and feminine. She looked Middle Eastern, with long 
jet black hair, dark brown eyes, and a deep, healthy tan. She was young, maybe 
early twenties, and well-built, looking about 5'6" and 143 pounds with firm, round 
breasts that looked like D-cups. She wore black boots, figure-hugging jeans that 
showed off her well-developed and well-muscled ass, a belt with a large silver 
buckle, and a tight, short-sleeved white T-shirt that displayed her big, muscular 
arms.

She finally looked up. "Can I help you?"

"Erm...yes." I cleared my throat nervously. Both her beauty and her muscles
were very intimidating. "I'm looking for a present for..." I paused. I
couldn't say 'my mother' - women that age didn't shop here, and I couldn't
make something up about 'my (nonexistent of course) girlfriend' if I wanted to
flirt with this woman.

"I'm looking for a Christmas present," I blurted out.

"Christmas? In May?"

"Oh. Erm. Just kidding. I'm just looking for a present for a friend."

"What sort of thing are you looking for?"

I looked around. I knew next to nothing about women's clothing. Then I saw
some jewelry under a glass counter. That would be easier. Of course I didn't
have enough money to afford anything in the store, but maybe I could flirt
with her while pretending to shop. I glanced over the jewelry, the necklaces,
earrings, bracelets...

An idea suddenly popped into my head as my eyes traveled to the bracelets,
then to the salesgirl's large wrists. "Jewelry. Maybe a bracelet," I said.

"It's all under this counter. Just tell me if you see something you're
interested in." She certainly wasn't very friendly. Most likely she figured that 
not only a guy with my scruffy appearance couldn't afford to shop there, but 
also a guy as unattractive and unathletic as me could never have a girlfriend, or 
even a female friend, who was pretty and hip enough to shop in a place like this. 
I couldn't really blame her. After all, she was right.

"Could I see that one?" I pointed to a black bracelet of the style that
athletic girls liked to wear. Wordlessly, she unlocked the counter, opened the
sliding glass door, and handed me the bracelet. I wondered how I could ever
get to the level of flirting with this cold, beautiful chick. But flirting or
not, I was determined to at least hit on her.

I looked over the bracelet and the price tag ($72, far out of my price range)
and took a deep breath. Now was the time to hit on her.

"Um. Yes. Erm...I'd like to get this for my friend, but I'm not sure it'll fit
her wrist. Could you try it on for me?"

Her face expressionless, she took the bracelet and slipped it onto her wrist.
"Fits fine. See? It stretches." She held out her arm to show me how it looked.
The view of her darkly tanned, big forearm with well-defined muscles caused my
cock to start stiffening in my pants. The bracelet now covering the narrowest
part of her still-big wrist had the effect of making her forearm look even
bigger. In addition, her forearm muscles were developed enough that the
slightest movement she made caused them to start rippling. My dick grew even
harder.

I said, "Would it be too loose on her? It fits you just fine, but you have big
arms for a girl. I...uh...I find that very attractive." My heart pounded as I
waited for her reaction.

She broke into a smile. "Really? You like my arms?"

Emboldened by her smile, I said, "Yes. I like their size and strength and dark
tan."

"Well, thanks for the compliment! I appreciate that." She reached into a
drawer. "I have a tape measure in here. I can measure my wrist and see how it
compares." She wrapped the tape around her left wrist (her right was still
wearing the bracelet) as I watched eagerly. "Seven and one-third inches."

"Wow, that's impressive," I said. "A lot of guys don't have wrists that big.
Including me."

She laughed as she looked me over. "Yeah, you have arms like a girl. Here, let
me measure yours." Now while most guys would have been insulted at being told
they had arms like a girl, I wasn't. For one thing, it was true, and for
another, I was turned on being in the presence of a stronger and more dominant
female.

She finished measuring me. "Six and one-third inches. Yep, mine are way
bigger." She laughed again, tossing her long black hair, and put her arm next
to mine. Her forearm's large size, heavily developed muscles with veins
showing, and dark brown tan all contrasted sharply with mine's small size,
lack of muscle tone, and paleness.

"What's your name?" I asked her.

"May. And you?"

"Benjamin, but call me..." I almost said for her to call me Bad Luck Ben, but
caught myself in time. "Call me Ben. Wow, May, I wish I had your big wrists
and forearms instead of my girly ones. And I love how amazingly well-defined
your forearm muscles are. How did you get them like that? Mine have no muscle
tone and look way too feminine."

"Good genes are part of it. And I was a three-sport varsity athlete in high school. 
Softball, gymnastics, and tennis."

"Oh cool!" I blurted out. "So can you still do flips? And can you still throw
really far?" Normally I wouldn't have been that forward about my fetishes, but
her seemingly friendly attitude was spurring me on.

She giggled. "Yes and yes, of course. I keep in practice with all my athletics."

I looked at her upper arms. "You have great biceps and triceps too. I wish
mine were like that." Even unflexed, the lines of muscle definition were
clearly visible.

"Yep, I've got some guns." She casually flexed, causing the bicep to leap up. Again
I felt the rush of being turned on flow from my brain to my cock.

She looked over at the clock on the wall. "It's past five. I need to close up.
Do you want to buy the bracelet?"

Here was an issue. I really couldn't afford it. If I shelled out the $72 (plus
tax, of course), I calculated that I would have to eat dog food for about ten
days to make up the difference.

"You know, I like it, but I'd like to shop around before buying..."

"Aw, come on," she interrupted me. "I think we've made a really good
connection. Help a salesgirl out." She smiled flirtatiously. My heart leapt at
that. Just to make an emotional connection with a girl as hot at her...I
desperately wanted to say yes, but the thought of dog food for ten days...

Feeling confident (wrongly) because of my seemingly successful flirting with her, 
I said, "Maybe you could give me a discount?" In addition to being unsuccessful 
with women, I had never been able to negotiate well. When I had bought my 
first used car as a teenager, I had somehow ended up paying 15 percent more 
than anyone else would have paid for it. Years later, when it had been time to 
purchase a new car, I had thought I was prepared. Yet somehow, I had failed 
utterly. Every dealer I went to absolutely refused to sell me a car for even a 
single dollar under sticker price. Every offer I made was rejected. It was as if 
negotiating was some sort of special game where one had to say some magic 
code word to actually begin, and I didn't have the code word. So I'd had to pay
full price, at least getting a nice, if unpretentious, new Honda Civic out of it.
But of course, I was still Bad Luck Ben, and the car didn't last long. I'll get to 
that in a little bit.

May tilted her brunette head and winked. "Okay, Mr. Negotiator, what's your
offer?"

"Fifty dollars?" I said, thinking she'd reject it and I'd get her to accept a
somewhat higher amount. Hell, with my record, I'd have been happy if she
accepted $71.95.

To my surprise, she said, "Sounds like a deal." I felt the adrenaline flow
through me. Successful flirting, successful negotiating...Was I finally
becoming a man? Now instead of ten days I would only have to eat dog food for
a week...

Eat dog food for a week because some girl named Kate beat me up and
blackmailed me? 'Listen to yourself!' I thought. The adrenaline rush ceased.
No, I wasn't a man. Who was I kidding. I wouldn't be a man as long as I let
Kate blackmail me, and I saw no way out of that.

I looked up, seeing May's elegant, high-cheekboned, model-like face, and
remembered that this hot chick was flirting with me. Now was not the time to
be depressed. I paid her the $50 (plus tax) for the bracelet.

"Tell you what," said May. "Since you helped me out, I'll do a little
something for you. After I close up, let's go to the park and I'll show you my
tumbling and throwing skills."

My heart leapt with excitement. To see this lovely lady do the things that
turned me on so much...I could hardly wait as she went about the business of
closing and locking up.

"There! All done," she said as she led me out of the shop and locked the door
behind us. "So, shall we take my car or yours?"

"Your car is fine," I said. Remember my brand-new Honda Civic? Only a few
months after I had bought it, it had gotten totaled in an accident, and the check
I'd gotten from the insurance company didn't even come close to the value of the
car. Unprepared and unequipped for the expense of needing another car so soon 
(with my low-paying job as a short-order cook at Al's Diner, my financial situation 
wasn't so hot even before Kate was blackmailing me), I had scraped together 
whatever money I could and bought an ancient, rusting old Ford Escort. I certainly 
didn't want May to see that car. I had to win her over with my personality. Then, 
maybe after she had gotten to know me much better, she wouldn't think of me as 
such a huge loser from seeing my car.

She led me to a brand new white Mercedes E-class sedan and got behind the
wheel. I looked at her, impressed, as I climbed into the passenger seat.

"Wow, May. Most people who work in retail can't afford a car like this."

"Well, a big part of my pay is from commission. And I'm very good at what I do."

"I'm sure you're very good at a lot of things."

"You'll see for yourself pretty soon." She smiled at me and I smiled back.

At the park, May got me erect quickly by showing me her tumbling skills. After
limbering up by doing a perfect straddle split, she went into her flips. Her
first pass flipping away from me consisted of a front tuck, roundoff, two whip
backs, two back handsprings, another whip back, and finishing with a
kick-full. She did standing tumbling to take herself back to me, performing
eight standing one-armed back handsprings in a row, alternating arms as she
elegantly backflipped, and finishing with a full twist. I applauded eagerly,
although my rock-hard cock was a more prominent sign of my appreciation than
my clapping.

She then took out a softball she had been keeping in her car. There was a
section of the park with distance markers, and she stood behind the starting
line and delivered a strong and accurate throw. We walked together to where
the ball had landed.

"191 feet," I read from the markers. "Amazing."

She giggled in a feminine manner, showing a strong contrast between her
girlish giggling and her big arms and manly throwing skills. "Thanks. You want
to try it?"

"Oh, you know there's no way I can throw anything close to what you did."

"I'm curious to see what you can do. C'mon and show me. Make you a deal. If
you can get half of what I got, I'll flash you." She tapped her massive, firm,
round D-cup breasts.

Naturally, I threw that softball as hard as I could. It wasn't enough, of
course. "84 feet," she read from the markers. "Sorry, you fail. Wow, you
really do throw like a girl. I could throw farther than that when I was a
nine-year-old girl in my first year of softball." I turned red, but brightened
when she playfully slapped my ass.

"Come on, let's take a walk," said May. She led me to an isolated part of the
park, hidden on all sides by trees and tall bushes.

"Close your eyes," she said in a seductive voice. "I have a surprise for you."
Thinking I might get to see her melons after all, I eagerly obeyed.

I felt her put her hands on my shoulders. Then, suddenly, there was a fiery
pain in my testicles. My eyes flew open as I collapsed to the grass, writhing
in agony. I looked up as my hands flew to my wounded family jewels. Sure
enough, May had kneed me in the crotch.

"Why?" I squeaked out.

May sneered down at me. All traces of warmth and compassion had disappeared
from her still-beautiful face. "Because you're a pathetic, perverted little
faggot," she snapped. "Did you really think a loser like you had a chance with
a girl like me? I knew from the beginning that you couldn't afford the things
in the store, and you could never get the kind of girl who would like those
things. At first, I figured you were just some doofus who wanted to hit on me
because of my tits. I thought I'd just get rid of you with some insults. But
then you started trying to use me to get off on all your weird fetishes. So I
decided to trick you and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker like the
stupid dumb fuck you are. Did you think you could somehow flirt with me and
then take the memories home to your crummy little apartment and use them to
get your little pecker off? Did you really think you could get away with it?
Did you think I was an airhead because I have a big rack? Well, look who
outsmarted who! Look who's the moron now!" She stomped hard on my face with
her big black boot.

I began to cry. She kicked me in the side, cracking one of my ribs with the
strength of her legs. "Fucking crybaby. You're not even worthy of a fat
welfare queen, let alone a woman like me," May smirked.

I looked around for an avenue of escape, someone passing by, anything. The
sultry brunette noticed and kicked me again, cracking another of my ribs.
"Don't even think about it, asswipe," she snarled. "Make any attempt to escape
or call for help, and I swear I'll kick your genitals into fucking paste. I
won the citywide kickboxing championship last year against a man. I knocked
him out with a kick to the face. You don't want to fuck with my legs. Is that
clear, dipshit?"

"Yes," I gasped, in terrible pain from her kicks.

She kicked me in the back. "Call me Mistress May. That should be a turn-on for
a submissive faggot loser like you."

It was. "Yes, Mistress May," I said. I would have gotten an erection, but the
injuries caused by her knee to my groin, delivered by her powerful thigh
muscles, prevented me from getting one.

She rolled me onto my back and sat on my chest. Her 143-pound weight was more
than mine and I could feel her bulk and strength.

"You don't want to fuck with my arms, either. Even though you like them so
much," she taunted me. With that, she began punching me in the face. A few
seconds later, I had two black eyes, a broken nose, two bruised cheeks, and
three loose teeth.

She held her massive, deeply tanned right forearm right above my eyes and
clenched and unclenched her fist, causing her forearm muscles to ripple. "You
like this arm, huh? You like it because you wish you had arms like this
instead of the pathetic faggoty girly ones you actually have." She
bitch-slapped me in the face. "I'm more of a man than you could ever be. And I
need a man who's at least as much of a man than I am. I have several basic
requirements before I'll even consider dating a guy. His arms have to be at
least as big as mine, his car has to be at least as nice as mine...oh, by the
way, as soon as you said you wanted us to take my car to the park I knew yours
was a pathetic old heap of junk. Where was I? Oh, yes. And he also has to be
athletic enough to do this." With that, she stood up, then suddenly did a
double knee drop right onto my chest. A shockwave of pain washed over me. I
couldn't move or breathe. She did a back tuck somersault to get back to her
feet.

"A standing back tuck is a pretty basic tumbling move. Any man worthy of the
title of man should be able to do it. Tumbling is a lot easier for guys to
learn than girls. And I'm a girl and I can do moves a lot more complicated
than that. But I bet an unathletic loser like you can't even do a cartwheel."
As she spoke, she executed a perfect cartwheel, landing with her left boot
right on my face. The impact mashed and flattened my already broken nose. "And
even with all those requirements, I still get plenty of qualified guys.
Because I'm hot, I'm smart, and I'm successful. Why would I ever want or need
a worthless loser like you?"

Just when I had recovered enough from her vicious double knee drop to start
breathing again, May yanked me up to a sitting position and began choking me,
her thick, heavily muscled right arm wrapped around my throat. She laughed
sadistically as I thrashed and struggled helplessly. My face turned blue and I
began seeing stars. Just as I was about to pass out, she suddenly released me.

"What's the matter, baby?" she said mockingly as I gasped for air. "Don't like
my big arms anymore? Aww, did the muscular lady hurt you?" She waited for me
to regain my breath, then punched me in the stomach, taking it away again.

When I could breathe and talk again, I begged, "Please, Mistress May. I've had
enough. I'm sorry for hitting on you."

"Lick the mud off my boots," she said coldly. "If I like the job you do I
might stop hurting you."

I licked the mud off her big black boots as best I could, trying not to gag.
It wasn't just mud - apparently, plenty of dogs took shits in this park. When
I was finished, I looked up at her pleadingly.

"Close your eyes," she commanded.

I obeyed and felt a sudden, sharp pain on the top of my skull. I opened my
eyes, crying in pain. May had dropped her elbow down onto the top of my head.
I began begging her again.

She just laughed. "You're such a fucking weakling. Here I am, beating and
kicking the crap out of you, and all you can do is beg. Why don't you try
being a man for once?"

Rage flowing through me, I made a fist and swung a punch at her midsection.
Seeing it coming, May tensed her abs. I screamed in pain as my small,
ineffective fist impacted her rock-hard wall of abdominal muscle and several
bones in my hand broke.

She laughed again. "Absolutely pathetic." She lifted her shirt, revealing an
elegant, feminine set of steel-hard six-pack abs, tanned a dark brown. "Here's
how to do it right." With lightning speed, especially for a woman her size,
she smashed her fist into my stomach. I felt like a truck had hit me and I
began puking. She flexed her biceps dominantly.

"You're starting to bore me, Benny-boy," she said. "And I have a date tonight,
with a real man. So let me leave you with some advice. Don't ever try to hit
on a pretty woman again. Don't ever try to hit on a female athlete again.
You're not worthy of us. We need real men, men who can fight, and hunt, and
lead, and have actual courage and confidence and charm, and do all the other
things that real men do. If you ever hit on a girl, try finding someone in
your league, like a girl who actually has smaller arms than yours, although of
course that won't be very common. Just try to find some skinny, ugly, dumb,
trailer-trash bitch with no chest." She shook her D-cups at me as she said
that. "You might have an outside chance with her."

May stood up. She kneed me in the face, releasing a spray of blood. "That's
for having skinny, weak, pale arms."

She rammed her knee into my face again, sending out an even larger spray of
blood this time. "That's for throwing like a girl."

"And this is for hitting on me." With that, May smashed her knee into my face
one last time. I saw stars, then blackness.

When I woke up, I was alone. I was also completely naked. I felt something
underneath my body. It was a note. It read:

"Dear Benny-boy,

So was it good for you too, pussy? Anyway, I took your clothes. And your
wallet. Man, in addition to being skinny, ugly, pale, dumb, and sexually
perverted, you're fucking poor too. By the way, I was planning to take all
your money way back from when we were in the store. That's why I let you have
that discount. You fail at negotiating too. Plus I took back that bracelet. We
sell our shit at a high markup and I don't think you could really pawn it for
anything, but I don't want to take any chances.

Remember, don't ever hit on athletic women again. We all hate weakling males
like you. Beta males will never be worthy of alpha females in a million years.

Goodbye, fuck-face.

May"

I waited for darkness to fall before attempting to leave the secluded area.
The main thought running through my mind was even if I wasn't cited and fined
for public nudity, with the money May had taken from my wallet I would now
have to eat dog food for two weeks.

THE END...for now

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