Memoirs of a female rapist, chapter five 
by uplifted
The advent of the guardian, grown men shake in terror

It was a fait accompli since that wonderful night, that she would move into
his flat with him. She had seen it when carrying her exhausted
lover, upstairs to his penthouse apartment. Struck by its opulence and
beauty, she wandered through the place in open mouthed awe, 
completely forgetting Allen lying peacefully asleep in her arms. There was
so much to see. The weight room, complete with hot tub and sauna, and a
small pool leading outside to a tennis court. The entertainment room was
filled with all sorts of games. The TV and VCR were connected to a
screen that took up one entire wall. Looking fondly at Allen safely asleep
in her strong arms she said, "well well my little darling, you sure know how
to take care of yourself. Or is all of this for the bimbos.?" Finally she put
him to bed, tucking him in as if he were her child. Three days later she
was completely moved in.

It was she who laid down the rules. "Sweety, I want things to continue
much as before. You are free to see any women that you want." Allen
objected strenuously. He was all for burning his little black book, avowing
that he needed none other then her. 				          
"I love you too angel, but you see I have and outside life also. It's
important that I am free to come and go as I please. You won't be seeing
much of me at night anyway."  His hurt look rent her heart. "Please
darling, trust me on this, I can't explain any further, but just know that I
will
always come home to you." He sighed. What could he do? She was as
overpowering in personality, as she was physically. Besides after all those
years of being the boss, and making  decisions for everybody, it was a
relief to find her taking over. 					       

"Yes Laila," he said meekly." 					    

"Jesus Christ, you don't have to give in so easily" she declared, mussing
his hair as if he were a favored child. He spread his hands in resignation.	 

" I want to live," that canary eating grin spreading across his face. 

"Another thing Allen, you must start coming to work in the mornings. 
Except on rare occasions I don't want to have to work late into the night
anymore." 

Once again he agreed meekly. "I've lost my desire for the ladies anyway.
Who can even compare to you?" 

"Thank you kind sir, but your a strong and healthy male. If you ever feel in
need of female companionship while I'm away, you have my permission to
dip into that little black book of yours. 

Now she was ready to start her crusade. One might call it her reign of
terror. How does one go about such a thing, she asked herself? Do you
just walk the streets waiting to be accosted? She laughed inwardly at a
delightfully silly thought. Maybe she told herself, I could go from door to
door. (Ring! Ring!.) A man answers, leering at the beautiful creature
standing at his door. "Yes miss, can I help you?" 

"Yes sir. I am taking a survey, and perhaps you can help. I"m trying to find
out how many rapists and women beaters there are in the neighborhood.
You wouldn't happen to have any idea would you? Or perhaps your one
yourself" she asks innocently, holding her pen and pad in front of her.
Before he could answer a voice comes from inside of the house. 

"Hon, who is it?"  A small women comes to the door, suspiciously eyeing
both Laila and her husband. 

" Oh nothing babe," the man quickly answers. "This lady was just trying to
sell me something. Isn't that right miss" he said pleadingly. 

"Why yes, I am selling tuperware maam, could you use some?")

She grinned at the silly scenario. Actually she had been preparing for this
many months. The years working at the agency, had left her with a liberal
education on the computer. The internet was an open book to her. In
addition she was a bit of a hobbyist, and could rightly be considered to be
quite a hacker. Raiding corporate files would have been a simple matter
for her, if she had the inclination. Of course except for one specific set of
files, she had no such desire. Laila had compiled an extensive library on
current police investigations, into rapists and female batteres. Not only
limiting herself to the local scene, she had amassed information from all
over the country. She had even gone to the trouble of raiding files from
some of the larger cities in Europe for future perusal. Not being satisfied
with this, she had made and extensive study of the criminal mind, studying
books, periodicals and police psychological reports.

Just one week after moving in with Allen, she started her campaign of
attrition. There were a number of men that she was after. They seemed to
operate on the seamy side of town, victimizing mainly hookers.There was 
one in particular that she was dying to get her hooks into. He raped
sodomized tortured, and then murdered the doomed women.  In all there
were nine murdered women linked to him by the police. Since none had
survived, there was no description of the brute. Nevertheless it was
agreed, that from the damage he had levelled on the poor women, he was
a large and extremely powerful individual. He always left them strangled,
rope burns around their necks. 

She would be a decoy dressing in the fashion of a hooker, makeup
overdone, plunging neckline, and a slit down the side of her short skirt,
from hip to thigh. Her mesh stockings would stand out in bold relief
against her stiletto high heels. She spent most of her time in various bars
in the neighborhood, drinking sparingly in hopes of attracting him. What
she attracted instead, were innocent men out for a night on the town. She
was patient, necessarily so. It was the evening of the third night. She had
gone from bar to bar, nursing her drinks as much as was possible. It was
getting late and she despaired of attracting anyone of significance. "Time
to pack it up and go home" she decided. 

He sat down next to her. "Leaving so soon baby" said the large man?
"Stay a while and keep me company." She observed him from the corner
of her eye.There was something about him that she found disquiting.  

"What was it" she asked herself. "His eyes, that was it, his eyes." They
moved continually in his head, giving him a ominous air of restlessness.
His  hands were those of a physical laborer, heavily callused with 
shoulders that reminded her of a weight lifter. His general build reminded
her of Dave Kuzari, but there the similarity ended. Dave was a good
hearted soul who wouldn't hurt a fly, but something about this guy sent
cold shivers down her spine.   

He came right out with it, without so much as a warm up. "What's your
price?"                                                                       

She was startled."My my we do get right down to business don't we? For
a big strong handsome man like you, I might be persuaded to give a
discount," she answered smiling bewitchingly.

 He was having none of it. "Look lady your a business woman aren't you?
So lets stop the bullshit. Just tell me your price" and he removed a billfold
from his pocket that could choke a horse. 

"Three hundred dollars" she said. He didn't bat an eye, but peeled off
three one hundred bills and handed them to her. 

"Follow me" he said, and walked off leading her out of the bar and on to
the garishly lite street. She followed him down a side street and into a
sleazy flea bitten hotel. Entering a small room on the top floor, he
indicated a chair for her to sit on. 

Laila observed him carefully. All of her instincts screamed out at her, this
was he, this was the man. Nevertheless it wouldn't do to jump to hasty
conclusions. She would need proof that it was indeed he. It would't do to
hurt a poor innocent  just because he was a bit weird and eccentric.  She
watched for the rope. That was his weapon of choice. 

"Why do you do these things" he suddenly screamed at her. "Women
should be chaste and pure" he shouted, his weird eyes rotating in their
sockets. 

"Is that what mama tells you little man" answered Laila? He looked at her
his teeth nashing in his mouth, making his appearance wild and distored. 

"Don't you dare let me hear the name of my sainted mother upon you foul
lips, you damn whore."  She looked startled when he removed the rope
from his jacket pocket. 

"Oh God" she cried, its you. Please don't hurt me, I beg of you." She could
hardly keep a straight face. 

As he came towards her she cried, "it was you who killed those five
women wasn't it?"  

"Five you stupid bitch, don't you read the newspapers? It was nine." The
big man had no idea that he had just signed his own death warrant.  She
smiled and spit right in his face. 

"You damn cunt he bellowed" the rope encircling her neck. She had kept
her hands close to her breasts, at the ready to protect her exposed neck.
Catching it just inches from her throat, her hands were in position to snap
it. She traveled back in her mind to her encounter with her first rapist.
Many were the times in the last year that she had replayed it in her mind,
savoring every moment. She remembered it as if it were yesterday. In her
mind she had even created a pattern to the encounter. Counting off the
steps she thought "one, complete confidence in the rapists ability and his
victims helplessness." Gripping the heavy rope in her two dainty hands,
she snapped it in two as if it were a piece of cotton thread. "Step two
surprise" she counted off in her mind, as she saw his open mouth wonder
at the two pieces of useless rope in his large hands. 

"You lousy bitch" he screamed lunging at her again. 

"Back to step one" she thought ironically. 

"I'll strangle you with my bare hands you filthy slut" he shrieked. Laila let
him come to her. There was no fear on her part, only cold commanding
patience. He lunged forward gripping her around the throat squeezing for
all that he was worth. An ordinary women or for that matter a man might
have blacked out at that moment. She simply gripped his forearm and
squeezed sharply. He gasped suddenly, his ever moving eyes coming to a
quick halt, his agonized scream resounded off of the sound proof walls, as
the snapping of bone sounded for all the world like a pistol shot.

" Step three" she said out loud in his face, "pain."

He could not understand what was happening at this point. He reasoned
through his anguish, that it was a fluke, after all she is less then half of
his
weight, and eight inches shorter . 

"You damn prositute" he roared, "I'm going to kill you, and it won't be
pleasant."  He squeezed gritting his teeth against the pain in his forearm.
Her hands went from his forearm to the wrists that were surrounding her
throat. Slowly relentlessly she squeezed his wrists to the breaking point,
savoring his pain. 

"Number four" she whispered into his agonized face," fear." She felt the
vulnerable bones in his wrists begin to give, and suddenly yanking with
irresistible force cried out into the night, "that one is for you Helen
McConnell," his first victim. His high pitch screech was soul shattering. He
kept screaming as Laila mangled his shattered wrists beyond recognition
crying out, "and you Mary Smith, how did you like that?" 

By this time his slow mind realized his predicament. He remembered
reading about the story of the creeper in the newspaper. He had laughed
when the article had said that the destroyer was a women, but there was
no laughter in him now, only step five, abject terror. Hoping that he was
wrong about her identity he asked meekly, "are you the gaurdian" his
voice shaking uncontrollably. 

"Did you hear him Sally, Grace"she cried out as if victims number two and
three were there and listening. "He want's to know if I am the gaurdian.
What do you say. Shall we show him?" Her voice  was bitter and her eyes
narrow slits of hate                                                          

He cringed."Oh God please." Letting go of his wrists she shot a short right
to the side of his cheek shattering it beyond recognition. He screamed,
and then he screamed some more. 

"Did you like that Ann Batchalor" she said grasping him by his vulnerable
neck. 

Now he started to shake as his terror began to overwhelm him. He
realized that she could very easily kill him. It was time for step number six,
begging and pleading, and beg and plead he did with all of his heart and
soul. "Please oh please, I couldn't help myself. There's something wrong
with me. Oh God have mercy on me."

 It would never fail to amaze her,  the way that even the worst of killers
could evoke God's protection. Ripping his clothing from his body he stood
naked before her, his hands in front of him protecting his genitals. 

"Please please don't hurt me" he pleaded humbly. 

"How quickly hath the mighty fallen," she quoted ironically. It was a
suprise to her to see him so quickly cowed. "On your back" she ordered.
Meekly he obeyed, closing his eyes as if to block out his shame. "That
was it she thought, Step number seven, humiliation. "Lucy and Joan, What
do you girls think we should do with him ? How about this" she said, as
she reached between his legs and gripped his entire package.

 He cringed pleading, "please no more, I beg of you." 

"What do you say Ceila Gross, shall we give our little rapist a ride?" He
bellowed forth in agony as his three hundred pound body left the floor
supported only by his cock and balls. Genitals are not built to hold a three
hundred pound body. He pleaded in vain, crying out.  " Your going to rip
me in two." 

She screamed over his weeping "Rita my friend, observe a satellite in
orbit." Before he knew what had hit him, he was revolving around and
around her head, held by her right arm, his genitals her handle. He
bellowed in agony crying uncontrollably , begging her for mercy. He was
terified that in another minute he and his genitals would part company. 

He screamed "please let go, oh oh let me go."

"What do you say girls" she yelled. "Perhaps were being to hard on our
little rapist. Shall we let him go? Of course we should," and she released
his agonized cock and balls. Well this was not exactly what he had in
mind. He sailed from her hand with startling velocity, and smashed against
the nearest wall shattering his elbow. Landing on the floor in a daze he
curled up into a ball, for all the world like a fetus. Tears streaked his
face,
as he cried "no more, please please no more." Walking over to the fallen
man, she placed her foot on his arm, and turned him on to his back. 

"Now it was time for total humilation" she thought. Removing her colthes
she grabbed his helpless body and rammed his face up her ass. "Use that
tongue well if you want to live a few more minutes." 

Total terror and humiliation griped him as he shot his tongue into her ass. 

"If you stop before I tell you to, it will be the last thing that you will
remember", she snarled. His entire body shook uncontrollably,
nevertheless his tongue never wavered for an instant. Laila exalted in her
domination over this animal. He had reached step eight so quickly, total
passive acceptance. There wasn't a thing that she could tell him to do that
he would refuse. She toyed with humilating him further, making him go
past the point of decency, but she couldn't reach that point. As much as
she hated the man, and for that matter all rapists, she wasn't a sadist after
all. 

"Time to meet your maker my man," she said.  He had long realized that
the end of this escapade would be his death, but something deep inside of
him rebelled at the knowledge. Now he could no longer hide it from
himself. Losing control , he urinated down his leg and unto the carpet.
Shame was a thing of the past for him. 

 "Oh no" he cried. Crawling over to her on his hands and knees, he
hugged her legs and tried to kiss her feet. "Please don't do this, its not in
your nature. Oh my precious Lord, save me."

Snorting in exasperation over his sudden heavenly supplications she
said,  "I doubt that you gave the girls a final request, but I am going to
give you one anyhow. What is the last thing that you would want to do or say" 

"Please don't do this , I beg of you" he pleaded. 

"I'm losing my patience" and she grasped  his neck in a grip of steel. "Last
request or your a dead man right now". He fell to his knees  sobbing as
would a child when it had lost its parents. 

"Mercy please, have mercy on me. I don't want to die." 

 "Do I have to break your neck now, or do you want that  last request.?" 
Realizing that her mind was made up and there was no way out, he asked
her for permission to pray. "Sure go ahead murderer, Pray" she  snarled.
"Even the worst of them thinks that they merit Gods mercy. Amazing she
thought."

He fell to his knees and started to pray as no other prayed, bowing  back
and forth in fervert extasy. Every once and a while he would glance over
at her, as if to evoke some kind of pity in her soul. Laila listened quietly,
and in truth she did feel compassion, but this was a monster who
deserved only the most painful of deaths. After ten minutes she became
impatient and started to tap her foot restlessly. He prayed louder so as to
prolong his miserable life. 

"Enough" she said.

"Oh God no, please just a few minutes more," he begged piteously. 

"I've given you more then you ever gave to those poor women that you
murdered. Now be the man that you never were."   		
					  
"I don't want to die, please please have mercy on me. Your not a
murderess. Don't do this, Oh my God" and tears and urine issued forth
from the appropriate orifices. 

Ignoring his pleas she raised him up by the scruff of his neck. She closed
her ears to his whimpering. Planting her other hand under his buttock and
gripping his thigh, she lifted the doomed rapist to her lovely breasts.His
pitiful weeping and pleading went on unabated. 

"Just one more chance please. Take me to the police and I'll confess
everything." 

"You will, will you? And then you will get some nice bleeding heart lawyer
to set you free, or get you a nice easy sentence. No thank you mister,
here in this room, I am judge and jury." 

"What your doing is not right, being a vigilante is wrong, he pleaded
against all hope." 

" And I suppose what you did to those women was right" she laughed.
With a yell of triumph she straightened her arms out holding him  high
above her head. He prayed to the ceiling or God as you wish. Her thumb
on one hand went to his shoulder blades, the other to his buttocks for
leverage.

 "He cried, "what will you do to me."  For an answer she pulled down on
his neck and at the same time his thigh. He screamed even before the
pain set in, knowing that she was going to break his back. An
inconceivable feat of strength, not over the shoulder but held overhead. If
there were anyone in the world who could perform such a feat, it was only
Laila. 

Crying and pleading at the same time, he tried with all the might that his
big body could muster, to keep her from bending him backwards. Her
strength was almost immeasurable, and no matter what he tried  his back
bent inexorably. The pain became unendurable, and he screamed louder
and louder, in spit of the hoarseness of his voice. She bent him further as
his pleas went unanswered. She was bending him back upon himself like
a bow. As the back of his head and thighs came closer together, his groin
crept upwards towards the ceiling. By now his voice had no more power,
and he was way past pain, almost in a faint. 

At the moment of truth, when his back was about to break he screamed
out one last statement. "Mama Mama forgive me". The crack of a
backbone breaking was mind shattering. 

Death is horrible enough, but this way it was hidious. His tongue stuck out
in his mouth, and his once ever moving eyes lie still in their sockets. She
was not satisfied untill the back of his head touched the rear of his thighs,
his groin arching up to almost touch the ceiling. Only then did she let the
body fall to the floor.  

His broken horribly misshapened body was found not far from the spot
that she had left the creeper, just one year ago. The note was pinned to
his ass as he was completely naked. By now the police didn't question the
identity of the guardian. However even the hardened police were horrified
at what she had done to the body. Not that they had any sympathy for the
monster, but knowing that anyone could do this to another human being,
let alone a women, was horrifying. To add  to the sense of unease that
they felt, they found his genitals stuffed in his mouth, and horror of
horrors, they were not cut off, but pulled off by hand. They could only hope that the
man was dead when she had done it to him, as their thighs pressed
together involuntarily.  

As usual the press had a field day over the incident. It didn't take long for
an enterprising reporter to link this case with that of the creeper. After
destroying two other rapists and one wife beater, in the next few weeks,
she became a national heroine. At least for women she was. Men on the
contrary had ambiguous feelings about the guardian. Outwardly they paid
lip service to her accomplishments, admitting that she was having a
salutary effect on the crime rate. However in the privacy of their own
hearts, they couldn't keep a disquieting thought from emerging.

 "What if she mistaked me for a rapist?" These feelings of alarm soon
turned to terror, when it began to be reported that she was simply taking
innocent men, right off of the street. They could not know of course that
she wouldn't hurt a good man, but was only using him for her own sexual
pleasure. After all what man would report that he was snatched off of the
street, and raped by a women. 

After the fifth such report, and God knows how the reporter knew, since no
man spoke of it. A man on the street alone at night became a rarity. They
started to go out at night in groups. At  least in two's and three's. They
felt safe and secure until another sensational story came out. She had
actually taken three men off of the street at one time. How it came to be
reported, who knows. Probably one of the men told his wife about it, who
perhaps told a friend,  much to his chagrin. The women of the community
were ecstatic. The men however were horrified. Many a wife couldn't help
but brag about the way her husband suddenly became so solicitous,
bringing home gifts, and helping in the house as never before. 

While no one could know what happened and how, there is no reason why
we, that is you and I, couldn't take a peek into the incident. As I mentioned
above, three men were walking the streets at night, feeling relatively safe.
Spotting a beautiful women coming towards them, they experienced 
sudden pangs of apprehension. However they conforted each other. 

"She was probably just another women.  Even if it were the guardian, what
could she do against three men?" Laila on the other hand had a
completely different  reaction. 

The minute that she saw them, the thought that came to mind was "oh
goody a party."  Walking up to them she said teasingly, "hi boys, guess
who". They didn't take it quite so lightly as two of the men turned white
with fright, while the third started to pray.

 One of the men asked pleadingly, "please lady, tell me that your not the
guardian." 

"Sorry boys, guilty as charged." 

"Oh my God" said the second man. "Look lady , your only one while were
three, so why don't we just leave it at that. " he said, not sounding at all
confident. 

"Sorry boys, but I get so horny when I go hunting, and you little sweeties
just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or perhaps I
should say in the right place at the right time,"  holding her hands out
palms up, as if she had no control over the situation.

"Look lady, if you think that we are just going to go with you without a
fight, your sadly mistaken," said the first man.

 "Oh goodie, the last few men that I captured were so frightened that they
just lay in my arms as if paralyzed." In truth it was all that the men could
do to control their sphincters. "Time to go boys" and she grabbed the
praying man and literally threw him over her shoulder. The other two tried
to make a hasty retreat, but were stopped in their tracks by her hands
gripping their belts. In an instant they were snatched off the ground and
suspended in mid air, their feet and arms moving uselessly as if riding
bikes. . 

"Please let go" they screamed. In the meantime the man hanging
helplessly over her shoulder was praying to beat the band. Gently she
gathered the unhappy men under each arm, and settled them on her hips. 

"Just a few blocks to my car boys," and she walked determinedly through
the dimly lit streets.

All of their warnings about fighting back came to naught, when they saw
how ridiculously easy it was for her to handle them. Its a terrible thing to 
feel so helpless. They simply lay quietly on her hips and over her
shoulder, as if they were rabbits caught in the mouth of a lioness.
Reaching her car she sat each man gently in the rear seats. Sitting on her
knees she faced them from the front. "Well boys her we are, just I and
thou. You mustn't be afraid of me you know. I wouldn't harm a hair on your
precious heads.I adore you dear little things." 

As they began to calm down a bit, they couldn't help noticing the stunning
beauty of this creature. One man summoning up his courage asked. " but
what about those stories in the papers?" 

A childish sense of mischief overcame her, and smilling tauntingly she
said, "and every word of it, true!" By the looks on their faces, she felt sure
that they were almost ready to piss in their pants right then and there. She
was immediatly sorry for her little gibe. Her reputation had come in handy
with criminals, but was a hinderance with ordinary men. She always had
to work so hard to calm their fears, so that they would be able to function
normally. The praying man was praying so hard that he was swaying back
and forth in his seat. 

"I'm terrible " she thought. "Just look at the poor dears. "Boys you mustn't
believe everything that you read in the papers, or at least you should take
it with a grain of salt. All those gory details, and then the stories about
captured men with nary a detail. Who could blame you for
 putting two and two together and getting five."

"Well what do you do with the men", asked the praying man, interrupting
his prayers for just a minute. "well well Lazarus arises" she exclaimed."I
simply use them for my own sexual pleasure. And I must say that although
they are frightened at first, at the end of our evenings most of the men beg
me to keep them." 

"And do you?" he asked. 

"Certainly not." They have families to go home to , and I have a little man
at home myself."Turning in her seat in the front of the car she added,
"were going home now. I hope that you won't cause me any trouble  while
I drive. The last man that I took was a trouble maker, and I had to put him
in the trunk". The poor men jumped all over each other, in their efforts to
assure her that they would be no trouble whatsoever. She couldn't help
thinking, "God frightened men are so adorable, I could just devour them
right now." 

When they arrived at one of her safe havens, she took them out of the car
and carried them up the back stairs. In spite of their assertions  they
offered absolutely no trouble, but lay passively in her arms. Laila
understood that in spite of her attempts to calm their fears, her reputation
still terrified the frightened men. Although she found this to be titillating,
it was also a nuisance. There was a fine line between erotic fear of a
powerful woman, and paralyzing terror. The former contributing to their
eroticism, while the latter could make their performances usless. She had
seen men in past situations shivering with horror before her, their genitals
trying to escape within the walls of their groins. Smilling at the memory,
she thought "men were so adorable." 

There was one thing that she had found useful in situations such as this.
Bringing them into the apartment, she sat them down at the kitchen table.
Doing an ordinary every day thing had a calming effect on men. The
axiom, the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, turned out to
be surprisingly true. As they munched on cookies and hot chocolate, she
couldn't help but notice the tension easing from their frightened limbs. The
men seemed to to be regaining some of their color, and the praying man
eased off on some of his prayers. 

She spoke to them in easy measured tones, as one would speak to
frightened children. Affirming  her admiration for a good man, she asserted
that no matter what they read in the paper, and no matter what the street
talk aserted, they were safe and sound in her protecting care. 

"Well gentelmen" she continued her tone changing from serious to playful.
"Time to get down to business " and she scooped the praying man up in
her powerful arms. The other two men smiled contentedly, while the
praying man did what he did best, pray. As she opened the door to the
bedroom she said to him, "I just love a spiritual man". Looking back at the
other two at the kitchen table, she winked and asked, "Don't you think
prayer is so uplifting?", and chuckling she threw the helpless male two feet
into the air. 

As the door shut behind them, the men in the kitchen heard a male voice
ask tremulously , "what will you do with me?"  Then there was a period of 
quiet, followed suddenly by a masculine voice yelling at the top of his
lungs, "Oh my precious Lord."

Both men in the kitchen glanced at each other, and one said, "sounds
good to me."

About one half hour latter, she emerged from the bedroom with her burden
in her arms. His head lay back on her shoulder, and his arms and legs
hung down, as if he had no strength to move at all. Gently and lovingly
she placed him on the sofa. He looked up towards the ceiling, his sky, and
reverently intoned two simple words over and over again. "Thank you, oh
thank you."

Walking over to the two men at the table, her hand's on her hips in the
position of absolute command, she smiled and said "next victim."  She
tried not to laugh when she noticed both men straining in their seats
towards her, as if willing her to take him first. Fondly it reminded her of
two little boys waving their hands at the teacher, begging to be called on first. 

"My my, such enthusiasm, I'm flattered." Swinging one man into her arm's,
she almost burst into hysterics, when she saw the look of disappointment
on the other's face. "Don't worry angel face, I have something special
planned just for you", and she winked at him with malice aforethought.  

When they were alone in the bedroom he asked, "what did you do with our
little Pope Pius." 

"Why I did what comes naturally" she replied, " I raped the shit out of him." 

"It should only happen to me" he said. 

"IT will baby, it will" and she ripped the clothes from his defenseless body.

"Shall I scream bloody murder?" he asked. 

"Whatever makes you happy my little pussy cat " she said smirking.
Grabbing him by the hips, she lifted him off of his feet and held him up for
examination. With an evil smirk, she spun him completely around like a
flapjack, so that he was face to face, as it were with her bush. Our hero
didn't need any further instructions, as his tongue entered her lovely box.
As he was doing his duty, she noticed that his little wang was throbbing
unmercifully right before her eyes.  

"How could she be so cruel as to let it wave in the air unrewarded" she
thought. Well Laila in spite of what she did to rapists, was anything but
cruel. Her mouth caught it in mid air, and plunged it down her throat as far
as it would go. He almost leaped out of her hands. His mouth emerged
from her virgina and he screamed "Oh God." 

She lifted him out of her mouth and asked "did you suddenly get religion?" 

"Any one who has an encounter with you, is a smuck if he doesn't." he
answered. 

"What a sweetheart you are" she said, and turning him right side up she
quipped, "mustn't let the blood rush to your head. Well on second thought
it really depends on which head were referring to. She inserted him into
her box, and gripping him around his hips, moved him back and forth with
an ease that took his breath away. He grabbed on to the first thing that
was available to him, her boobs. One he inserted gratefully into his mouth,
while the other received his fondest caresses. 

As he draw near to orgasm, he uncontrollably squeezed her breast with all
of his might. Even though it was done in the heat of passion, he
experienced a moment of absolute terror, until he saw that she hardly
noticed.  

"Oh that felt so good sweety, do it again" she panted. 

"Holy shit " he thought, through his ecstasy. He tried, but by this time he
was moving so quickly within her, that he just lost control and came with a
mighty rush. That was about all that was mighty about a man, as far as
Laila was concerned. 

 At the end of the encounter just as she had predicted, the men pleaded
with her to keep them. Even Pius the turd, ops, that is the third, called her
his mighty Madonna. 

When this story finally came out, it caused Pandemonium among the male
population. Every man especially the single ones who lived alone were
absolutely petrified. They felt that they weren't safe anywhere, imagining
that she would break down their door's and spirit them away. It would
have been very helpful to their peace of mind, if these reports were more
fully explained. Alas for the poor male population this wasn't to be. Nor
would it ever . 

At this time her exploits were recognized and caused consternation all
over the country. This was of course nonsensical. How could one small
women service as it were the entire country?  The reason for this state of
affairs was twofold. First and most important, the amazing amount of
media coverage, and secondly a post script that Laila had playfully added
to one of her patented letters, attached to the ass of one her victims. It
read, "ain't the jet plane an amazing invention guys?" 

Now male socializing during the evenings was practically at a
standstill.There was however one social group that had never failed to
meet for the last seventy five years. This was the local Lions club, an
organization much like the Shrinners, and the Elks. As most of you
doubtless know, although it had done much fine charity work, as had the
afore mentioned groups, basically it was an ole boys club. It was time for
the monthly evening meeting, and the high muckee mucks were hard
pressed to arrange a meeting, what with her at large. The Gaurdian was
simply referred to as her, or she. 

The panic was absolute, and members were calling in cancellations left
and right. This was unheard of. The men loved their little evenings away
from the little woman, or girl friend. Of course none of them would give his
reason for not coming, but each one knew in his heart of hearts the
reason, as do we. 

Well the muckee mucks wern't muckee mucks for nothing. They hit upon
the following scheme. Taking advantage of the fact that it was the seventy
fith year of the lodge, they called this session an anniversary meeting.
This would call for much ritual and ceremony, that would last all night. 

Suddenly all members became eager to attend. It was not even hinted at,
that the reason for such an unprecedented meeting, was for fear of her.

It was a grand old evening, with drinks humor, and the usual bullshit,
bragging about their sexual prowess. 

No evening could go for long, without mention of the Gaurdian. How does
one hide his fear? Why you poke fun at the object of your dread. One such
joker fell to the floor and cried out in mock terror, "oh please Gaurdian
don't drag me to your cave." 

While another seeing his companion on the floor cried out, " woman who
lay man on ground have peace on earth" , reversing the so called saying
of Confuscious. Every one was having a grand old time, that is except one
individual. 

We will call him Joe. Joe was an unusual person to say the least. He was
scrupulously honest, wiith those around him as well as with himself. He
hated braggadocio or self aggrandizement. It was his policy to admit his
faults and fears in front of his fellows. In other words, Joe was a pain in
the ass. 

He listened to all the bullshit that he could stand. Suddenly bursting out in
a fit of rightnous indignation he cried, "you bunch of phonies and
hypocrites. Why if she came through that door right now, there wouldn't
be a dry pair of pants in the room." 

Well one need not say that his outburst, put a permanent crimp in the
proceedings. Although many men tried to salvage the meeting, with dirty
jokes and games of chance, for all intensive purposes the seventy fifth
year anniversary of the Lions club was at an end. 

They milled around aimlessly, glancing fearfully out the windows at the
night sky. This went on for an hour, until our hero Joe took the bull by the
horns. "Look guys I don't know about you," said our champion, "but I'm
scared shitless, and I'm going to call my wife, and ask her to come and
pick me up." 

It was an article of faith, that the Guardian would not accost a man while
accompanied by his woman. It was not a known fact, but circumstantial
evidence seem to point to this being so. In the first place she referred to
herself as the Guardian of womankind. Her notes had warned against
those who dared to harm one of her sisters. And last but not certainly not
least, in all the publicity written about her, not once had it mentioned that
she had taken a man accompanied by a woman.  

When Joe's wife came and lovingly handed him her arm, they walked out
into the night. This was the signal for a mass migration towards the
telephone. However things didn't go exactly as the members of the Lions
club would have wanted them to go.

 A typical conversation can be reported at this time. (ring, ring). "Hi hon.
Believe it or not the meeting is breaking up early. Hows about you pick me
up and we take in a restaurant? What? No I'm not afraid of anything, I just
thought that a night out would be fun. (a pause to listen) Please baby
come with the car. (a furthur pause) all right I beg you, please."   

Finally the little wife shows up and holding her arm out to her large
husband, she says,"here sweety grab hold, mommy won't let the big bad
boogy lady get you."  The big man gratefully clutches his wife's small arm,
and they exit the man muttering his grateful thanks to his wife.