Mixed fighting By Achilles Her thighs crush him into submission There used to be a magazine called "Cavalier". It went out of business a few years back. It was an adult magazine but it had sort of a mixed fighting slant to it. Usually there would be several letters to the editor relaying true acounts from the readers.The following is one of those accounts. If anybody still has any old copy's lying around, please post any stories you can find. And if anybody knows of any similar magazine please post the names to the group. Thanks. Achilles G.G., Chicago I would like to tell you about my slave/husband and the incident that led up to his predicament. First let me tell you that my husband is no wimp. He's 5'10" and 175 lbs.. I'm 155 lbs. and a little taller. I have been referred to as stunning. I also have a stunning right cross, as you're about to see. It all started about a month ago. We had just returned from a party and were undressing in the bedroom. My husband was down to his shorts and I still had on my black panties, bra and four inch spike heeled shoes. I was really letting him have it about his making goo-goo eyes to some blonde-haired bimbo when tempers really started to flair. I don't remember exactly what I said, but all of the sudden my husband slapped me right across the cheek. The blow knocked me on my butt and I just sat there and cried. My husband immediately rushed over apologizing and helped me up. But, I was mad now and I slapped him back as hard as I could. I was about to slap him again but he grabbed my wrist telling me to calm down. This just made me madder. In every fight I have ever seen someone always threw a punch. So I balled my free hand into a fist and caught him square on the jaw. He staggered across the room and fell square on his back. He sat up rubbing his chin glaring at me. I think the blow bruised his ego more than his face, but whatever the case, one thing was for sure, I was in the middle of a real fight. My husband came over to me and grabbed my wrist. He started to drag me over to the bed, saying, "What you need is a good old fashioned, bare bottomed, across the knee spanking"! This really infuriated me. I remembered what my mother always used to say, 'Always go for the balls'! So, I reached over and squeezed him right between the legs. He immediately released his grip on my wrist and begged me to let go. But I didn't. The feeling of power I had, with my husbands balls in my hand, was unbelievable. I wanted it to last for ever. I slowly squeezed harder and harder until he was doubled over in agony. When I released him he fell to the ground. I grabbed his hair and pulled him to his feet. He was still doubled over so I brought a knee up and drove it into his chest knocking him again onto his back. My husband was on the ground reeling in agony, one hand over his chest the other clutching his balls. The only open target was his stomach so I stomped my spiked heel on it as hard as I could. With his hands now on his stomach I sat down on him trapping his hands under my legs. Looking down on my husband, beaten and helpless against me made me laugh out loud. This must of hurt him most of all. He vainly tried to break free and this made me laugh even louder. Then something came over me. I no longer wanted just to defeat him, I wanted to dominate him, humiliate him. I started to slap him across the face. Back and forth, over and over and over. I must have become overconfident at my easy victory because I didn't notice my husband bring his legs up until he hooked me around the shoulders and rolled me over backwards. We both got to are feet at the same time and I thought I might be in trouble. I got into what I thought was a menacing looking wrestling stance and said, "So, you want to play rough, huh!" My husbands next move was really surprising. Instead of coming for me, he bolted for the door. He was truly afraid of me! I ran after him and brought him to the, ground but he was able to get up and head for the door again. I chased him down again and this time when I got him on the ground I wrapped my legs around his chest and began to slowly squeeze. I held him like this for a long time squeezing harder and harder. I could tell by the way he stopped struggling that he was beaten. When he stopped moving I released the hold and got up. I grabbed him by the hair and brought him to his knees. I drew back my right fist menacingly, when suddenly he said, "No, please. Show mercy. I'll do anything you say. Just, please don't hurt me anymore." I released his hair and walked to the other side of the room. "If you want me to show mercy," I said, "show me the respect I deserve by crawling over to here and kissing my feet." To my surprise he crawled over to where I was standing and tenderly kissed the instep of both of my feet. Was there any limit to my power? I had to find out. "Kicking the shit out of you has smudged my shoes," I said, "clean them off with your tongue and you had better do a good job." Without hesitation he began licking the patent leather of my shoes. That was all I needed to know. I owned him. From that moment on he would be my slave! I slipped my shoes off and said, "Kicking your ass has made my feet all sweaty lick them clean!" "Yes," he said meekly. "Address me as MISTRESS," I barked. "Yes," he said, submissively. For all the years that we've been married my dear husband would not even lick my pussy. Now, here he was shaking, kneeling before me licking the sweat off my feet. The feeling of power was overwhelming. I felt like I have never felt before, strong, masterful, and very sensual. I said to him, "Lick your way up my legs and satisfy me orally!" He did. And I had the best orgasm of my life. I am in control of our relationship now. I order him to do all of the housework. I make him serve me naked and on his knees. Whenever he doesn't or is slow about it, I grab him by the collar, push him against the wall and remind him of what I did to him. And we both know I can do it again. As far as orgasms go, he isn't allowed to have one without my permission and I give it rarely. He must earn his orgasms by serving me well and satisfying me orally several times a day. So let this be a lesson to all of you macho guys out there. Think you can handle the little lady? My advise is don't try to prove it. You just might find out differently and pay the price like my husband did. The Begining. . .