Melissa the College Years Wrestling With Vowels  Another shitty story,  
by the moronic illiterate Madman


Once again, this is Melissa reporting from the girls athletic house at State
University, where we consistently brutalize our slave houseboy, Zack. I have
recounted numerous previous beatings and I found that all the words contained
vowels. I intend to maintain that tradition by continuing to use them. You
might claim that Shakespeare, Dickens and Hemingway were far better writers
than Madman and you would certainly be correct. However, like those titans of
literature, Madman used the same vowels with the same relative frequency as
they did. Actually, I am guessing about the relative frequency. If you want to
sift through the entire works of these prolific authors and compare their use
of vowels to that of Madman, then go right ahead and do it. I have better
things to do with my time.

Virtually every language has vowels. In English, only abbreviations and
monograms lack them, but those are merely shortened versions of words that do.
Chinese and Japanese do not have vowels, but neither language has an alphabet.
One single character represents an entire word in both. When pronouncing the
words that the symbols represent, vowel sounds are found in every word.

The ancient language of Egyptian hieroglyphics was similar to Chinese and.
Japanese in that each symbol represented an entire word, rather than just one
letter, so they also lacked vowels. However, this story is written in English,
rendering that fact irrelevant. Many scholars have devoted their entire
academic lives and careers to studying and teaching this now obsolete
language. Imagine if thousands of years from now, scholars devoted this much
time delving into the language and writings of Madman.

I want to work over Zack by myself this time. I have enjoyed ganging up on him
with my friends, as well as using homemade devices and our treadmill and
weight bench to torture him. But, this time I want to do it without any
outside participation. It would be like the first time I worked him over,
which resulted in Zack being forced to become our houseboy slave. As much fun
as it is to demolish him in any way, I get more of a sense of satisfaction by
doing it alone.

I would also forego the use of Kelly's signature tool of torture, the golf
ball. Shoving a golf ball up Zack's ass has become an iconic event. There are
a few reasons that I won't use that technique this time. First of all, there
is a matter of licensing and copyrighting to work out. Unfortunately, this can
run up high legal fees that I can not afford. Perhaps, Diana could kick in
some cash to help out. She has been known to sponsor female bodybuilders
before, so why not sponsor fictional sadistic female wrestlers? Members should
threaten to cancel their memberships unless she sponsors my sister, my friends
and me.

Then there is the matter of the enormous increase in the popularity and the
major rise in sales of golf balls. Many of the new customers don't even play
golf. We are trying to work out a royalty deal with Titleist golf balls so we
can share in the increased profits that we created. Golf balls have become a
religious entity, almost Godlike, since Kelly popularized them. Perhaps,
several of them could be tied together to form a large set of roserie beads.
Perhaps, Jews would wear yamacas comprised of fused golf balls instead of
fabric. Perhaps people will consider the golf ball to actually be God. Tiger
Woods, Arnold Palmer and Ernie Els would be its apostles or prophets.

Anyways, I'm not going to let that idiot Madman distract me, this story is
supposed to be about me demolishing Zack, not about linguistics or golf balls.
So, I ordered Zack to go down to the mat in the basement. Once we got down
there, I told him that I would not accept his submissions. However, if he
could make me submit just once, I would free him from all duties as our
houseboy slave and whipping boy. I knew he had absolutely no chance to offer
any meaningful resistance to me. I beat him easily when I forced him to accept
his current situation, and he would be even easier to beat now. Zack's left
knee was still injured and would probably cause him to limp for the rest of
his life. The rest of his body had to be sore and brittle as a result of the
frequent brutal beatings he received

When we both stood on the mat, I could see the fear in Zack's eyes. He was
already terrified and I had yet to lay a hand on him. I stood with my hands on
my hips, just smiling at him, to enjoy watching his mounting terror. We had
not only broken Zack down physically, but also mentally. He seldom showed
emotions and never seemed to enjoy anything. Also, unless he was in pain,
nothing seemed to bother him, he just didn't care about anything anymore.

Finally, I went after Zack and gave him a hard punch to his stomach. When he
doubled over, I shot my knee up into his jaw, knocking him down to the mat.
Then I delivered a solid knee drop also to his belly Zack was gasping for
breath, in only seconds I had incapacitated him. Winding my victim is my
favorite way to start a beating, because it renders them totally helpless to
resist whatever I feel like doing to them

Now, I was going to take my time and planned to really pour on the punishment.
I straddled Zack and laced my arm around his left arm and grabbed his wrist to
apply a nice keylock. I leaned forward to apply pressure and my face was only
inches above his. Instead of smiling, I glared at Zack to intimidate him. He
was already whining and asking me why I was doing this to him, that he had
done nothing wrong. Without releasing my hold, I informed him that I just felt
like doing it I also told him that he existed only to please me and beating
him up pleased me.

Next I rolled him over to his side and clamped my legs around him with a head
scissors. I had to be careful not to squeeze to hard as I did not want him to
pass out, because then he could not feel the pain I was inflicting on him. My
legs are very strong and only half my power would render Zack unconscious.
Yet, I still wanted to maximize his punishment and feel the satisfaction of
powering a hold. So, I held him firmly and would periodically pour in the
power for only a second or two. That way, Zack felt the agony my legs could
inflict on him, but it was brief enough for him to maintain consciousness. I
kept him trapped in this hold for quite a while. Sometimes, I would wait a
whole minute or two to put it on, other times, I would only wait about fifteen
seconds. The jerk never knew when the pain was coming.

Zack tried to separate my legs with his puny arms which was totally futile. It
was annoying, so I grabbed his wrist and twisted it sharply. Now he was in
even more pain, and with only one free arm, he was totally helpless to even
try to escape. I was totally enjoying this. I had forgotten how much fun it is
to beat up and bully someone.

I decided to attack his vulnerable left leg. Kelly and I decided to give
Zack's leg special attention every time we worked him over. So I rolled him
over to his back a crouched over him, facing his feet. Then I grabbed his left
foot and ankle and pulled back in a half Boston crab. He started complaining
again, telling me I was hurting him. I arrogantly informed Zack that I was
doing it to hurt him and thanked him for praising my efforts. My hold was
effective, but it mostly attacked his lower back and I was more interested in
attacking his leg.

I moved back and jammed my knee in the back of Zack's left thigh, pinning his
leg to the mat . Then I grabbed his foot and ankle and forced him to bend his
ankle like a ballet dancer standing on her toes. But I pulled it very hard,
making it bend far more than a ballerina would. It put stress on Zack's ankle,
but that wasn't the most painful part of this hold. His calf muscle was
contracted very hard and it hurt big time. It cramped up on him and Zack
screamed in pain. The longer I kept this hold on, the more effective it got.
His calf muscle quickly fatigued and the lactic acid made it much worse.
Lactic acid tells the body to rest that designated part, but I would not
permit that to happen.

I've always believed in maximizing the pain for my victims. Since there is no
challenge in merely defeating an opponent, my challenge is to make them suffer
as much as I can and more than I have in the past. If you think this makes me
sound like a sadistic bully, you are correct, and what's more, I am extremely
proud of it. So Zack's aching calf might as well of had a target on it. I took
my right hand off his ankle while still pressuring my hold with my left one.
Then I dug my fingers into his calf and twisted in a very original calf claw
hold. Judging by Zack's pathetic agonized response, I knew it was successful
and I maintained this unusual combination hold at full power for a good couple
of minutes.

I was really enjoying myself. It had been a long time since I worked some jerk
over by myself. I do enjoy working with the other girls and encourage them to
brutalize Zack in any way they choose. But, taking Zack apart piece by piece
and watching the cumulative effects of my tactics was beautiful to me. I'm
sure he suffers just as much from my beating as he does from our group
efforts.

I wanted to continue varying my attacks to maintain my interest and to impress
upon Zack how totally superior I was to him. I release his leg and rolled him
over so he was lying face down on the mat. I sat on his lower back facing his
head. Then I pulled his left arm behind his back and forced it up in a painful
hammerlock. Zack was obviously trapped and could not mount any type of attack
against me or even defend himself at all. His helplessness was his problem, it
wasn't going to stop me from pouring on the pain.

I was more than strong enough to apply a successful hammerlock with just one
arm., so I kept the pressure on with just my right arm. With my left arm, I
started peppering punches into his puny left bicep. For the first time in a
while, I heard Zack scream, so I knee I was being very effective. I kept this
up and must have thrown at least fifty punches punches into his trapped arm.
With each punch his pain increased and I increased the power of them with
every blow.

I thought I had been doing a good job of making zack suffer, but now I wanted
to finish him off with the most excruciating hold possible. While still
straddling his back, I grabbed his chin with both hands and rolled to my side,
capturing him in a tight bodyscissors. I really poured on the pressure with my
powerful legs and Zack was struggling to breathe. Then I added my version of
the naked reverse choke. Normally this hold renders the victim unconscious
quickly and almost painlessly. Obviously, this was not my intention. Rather
than push my forearm against Zack's neck, I positioned my hands so my thumb
knuckle was right against his throat. When I applied pressure, it was more of
a painful strangle than a clean choke. When I felt he was going to pass out I
let up on the choke and concentrated on powering my scissors. Zack was still
conscious, still in pain and still struggling to breathe. When I sensed he was
breathing a little better, I reapplied pressure to my strangle hold.

Finally, I could not contain myself any more and I applied full pressure to
both my devastating holds and Zack did pass out. After I looked at him to
admire my work, I straddled my unconscious victim and began slapping his face
with both hands. This woke him up, but I continued slapping his face. These
weren't gentle taps like one might use to arouse an unconscious person, but
rather full force blows intended to hurt. I kept this up for several minutes,
occasionally stopping to thrust the tips of my outstretched fingers into his
throat. I ignored Zack's choking and merely resumed slapping him again.

Finally I got off him and stood glaring down at him. Zack was either too
beaten down or too scared to move. I stomped my foot down on his balls and
ground my heel into them. Then, without a word, I calmly walked away, leaving
him to suffer alone. I totally enjoyed this experience and planed to do it
again soon, very soon.