index


Message-ID: <63338asstr$1427638231@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "J'onn J'onzz" <mstrhole@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} David Donaldson Chronicles Chapter 8: David Wins a Bet M/F, D/s, Female Body Builder, Physical Combat, Forced Orgasm
Lines: 962
Date: Sun, 29 Mar 2015 10:10:31 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

PLEASE POST

I started this series as a writing exercise with the goal of using a set
universe to experiment with different themes.  This time I decided to try
out a little D/s.  David lets his inner bastard out.  Not his most
attractive quality, I'll grant you, but I was, as I say, experimenting.

Feedback welcome.  Flames ignored.


*...all ideologies are totalitarian. *--* Raoul Vaneigem*
<1st attachment, "David Donaldson Chronicles Chapter 8.txt" begin>

David Donaldson Chronicles Chapter 8: David Wins a Bet M/F, D/s, Female
Body Builder, Physical Combat, Forced Orgasm

   Near the end of October, I made a road trip to visit with a potential
client.  I had hired an assistant but she did not accompany me on this trip
- I had her working on another project.  So I was by myself.  Normally, I
would have gone on AFF to arrange for some companionship.  Mature men with
good bodies and 10 inches of working cock rarely have trouble finding
willing partners on AFF.  Plus, I had a ton of endorsements on my profile
from women who'd had a good time with me.  That always helps.

   But, on this trip, I hadn't set anything up in advance.  I had decided
to see what I could do on my own.

   I was driving through a rural area of my fine state, looking for a place
to eat.  I try to find places off the beaten path for meals, and I
generally eschew chain restaurants - I like to know that the owner has been
on the premises sometime during the day.  I spotted a road house with quite
a few cars parked nearby and decided to take a chance.

   A wall of noise hit me as I stepped over the threshold.  On the juke
box, John Thorogood and the Destroyers were grinding their way through
"Move it on Over," and the whole building shook to the relentless beat.  I
could smell the fryolater and knew this would be a good spot.  I took a
seat at a table near the front of the room and surveyed my surroundings
while I waited for someone to take my order.

   In addition to the loud music, I could hear shouts and cheering from one
side of the room.  The noise was coming from a group of people who were all
standing around a table.  They were having a great time.  The group parted
as someone left for a head call and I got a glimpse of two people - one
woman and one man - sitting across from one another at a table arm
wrestling.  Then the crowd folded back into its original shape around the
table and I lost sight of the combatants.

   Just then a waitress appeared.

   "Hi.  Something to drink?" She said as she put a menu on the table.

   "Do you have Leinenkugel's on tap?"

   "All the time.  Leinies Leinies that's our beer...pass another one over
here." I said the last part of that well known line along with her.

   "OK, I'll have a glass of that for starters, and then you can get me a
bacon cheeseburger and fries.  Got any cole slaw?"

   "Sure do."

   "What color is it?"

   I might have just spoken Martian considering the look she gave me.  I
was forced to explain that green slaw meant the cabbage was nice and sweet,
while white suggested the cabbage would be bitter.  I do not like bitter
cabbage.

   "Oh, OK, I never heard of that," she said.  "I'm pretty sure it's
green."

   "Good girl.  I'll take some slaw with my burger and fries.  Tell the
kitchen I like my fries well done."

   "Got it.  I'll bring the beer first."

   "Excellent," I said, quoting Montgomery Burns, my management role model
(i.e.  I do the opposite of what he would do).

   When my beer came, I got up and walked over to where the crowd was
noisily cheering for one or the other of the arm wrestlers.  I stepped up
on a chair to get a better view of the proceedings.  There were two people,
on opposite sides of the table, one woman and one man.  The man was big and
burly, clad in a plaid flannel shirt and jeans.  He had a mesh cap
advertising his favorite brand of seed corn, and a face badly in need of a
shave - on second thought perhaps he had a face badly in need of a beard.
Sweat beaded his brow and he wore the contorted expression that accompanies
extreme effort.

   A big blond woman sat across from him.  She was obviously a body builder
- she was built like Denise Massino or Yvette Bova - in a halter top and
jeans.  She was staring at her opponent but unlike him, her face showed
little or no evidence of either effort or concentration.  She looked bored.


   Their two hands were locked in the traditional arm wrestling form.  She
was winning.  He groaned as his hand was inexorably forced toward the
table. Blondie, as I thought of her at the time, apparently became bored
with the contest, and with a sudden twitch, slammed the man's hand to the
table.  The crowd cheered.

   "Better go home and lift some more bales, Billy," one of the watchers
shouted out cheerfully.  Billy shook his head and laughed, then shook the
woman's hand, got up and went to the bar for another beer.  The woman
looked around to see if anyone else wanted to challenge her.  The rest of
the crowd had apparently seen her before and no one volunteered.

   "I'll have a go," I said, as I stepped off the chair and made my way
through the dozen or so people gathered around the table.  Everyone looked
at me, most of them smirking.  I saw some money changing hands as people
began to place bets.

   "You sure about this mister," one old gaffer said.  "Sherry hasn't lost
an arm wrestling contest here in years.  Won the state title two years in a
row.  She can lift the back end of a ž ton truck clean off the ground."

   One other member of the crowd looked me up and down and then said
something to his neighbor.  They both chuckled.  I just smiled and sat down
across from Sherry, the local strongman - strike that - strong person.

   "Hi Sherry," I said, "I'm David." I extended my hand and Sherry took it,
giving it a good squeeze and smiling at me.

   "Hi, David," Sherry said, "You sure about this?  You don't look like
you're up to the task," she added smirking.

   I leaned across the table while I held her hand and said in a voice
pitched so that only she could hear it, "If you beat me, I'll spend the
rest of the evening in this bar bare assed naked.  If I beat you, you'll be
my sex slave for the next twenty four hours."

   "Fuck you, you're on, peckerwood," Sherry said, her face taking on a
fierce look that said she wasn't planning on losing.  She, of course, had
no way of knowing that in spite of the fact that I don't look like a weight
lifter, my MasterPC augmented strength was well beyond anything she could
achieve regardless of how much time she spent in the gym or what chemicals
she injected into her veins.

   I put my elbow on the table.  So did Sherry.  Our hands clasped.

   "Count us down, Joe," Sherry said, grinning at me.

   "Ready...set...go!"

   I was looking directly into Sherry's eyes as Joe said "go." Sherry had
figured on putting me down quickly with one flick of her wrist.  Things
didn't go as she planned.  I watched several expressions flow across her
features as first surprise, then anger, and finally fear dueled for
supremacy.  Fear won, but only momentarily as her competitive nature
asserted itself and a look of grim determination dominated her features. 
My hand and the arm to which it was attached hadn't so much as quivered. 
For her part, Sherry's muscles were knotted with effort - an effort she
hadn't needed against any of the local boys.  She grunted.  The crowd
around us heard the sound and went silent.  She groaned and then screamed
as she sought to budge my arm or even make me notice her effort.  I
affected a bored expression and picked up my beer with my free hand to take
a sip.

   I heard the cook say "Order up!" followed by the ting of the order bell.
My food would be coming soon and it was time to end this.  Slowly and
steadily I moved Sherry's arm away from the vertical.  She fought me like a
tiger.  Her muscles bulged, the veins stood out like fat night crawlers
under her now sweaty skin.  She'd never lost in this bar.  Very few men had
ever beaten her.  Yet I was and what was worse, I didn't even look like it
was costing me anything.

   I never took my eyes off her face as her arm was bent further and
further toward the table top.  She never gave up, but resisted to the last
millimeter before I finally pushed the back of her hand firmly to the
stained wooden surface of the table.  She was shocked.  She was humiliated.
She stared at the place where our hands were joined in disbelief.

   She looked at me.  I mouthed "I own your ass," and watched as
realization dawned on her.

   "Thanks for the match, Sherry.  C'mon over to my table and I'll buy you
a beer, how's that?" We shook hands and she followed me to my table.  The
crowd dispersed, muttering amongst themselves still not sure what they'd
just seen.  The one person who'd bet on me was busy collecting his
winnings, but he wasn't laughing.  I'd just humiliated the local heroine
and I needed to be careful.

   "Round for the house," I said loud enough for everyone to hear.  That
ought to buy me some grace, I thought.

   I pulled out a chair for Sherry and then took my own seat just as the
waitress placed a large plate of food in front of me.

   I looked at the name tag on the waitress' uniform.

   "Denise, please bring Sherry here whatever she'd like to eat or drink,"
I said in my most friendly voice, the one that makes most women moist in
the panty area.

   "Sure thing," Denise said and she walked off without asking Sherry what
she wanted, returning a moment later with a bottle of mineral water.

   I was just salting my fries and putting some ketchup on the plate when
Sherry spoke.

   "No one's ever done that to me before.  What are you?"

   "I'm a man eating a bacon cheeseburger.  When I'm done, we're leaving
and then I'll show you what I am.  For now, I need you to be silent, drink
your mineral water, and think about the fact that you're about to have the
most amazing sex you've ever experienced."

   For just a moment I thought I'd gone too far.  Sherry fixed me with a
look filled with more hatred than I thought it was possible for a human
being to contain.  She definitely didn't like my attitude.  I was going to
have a real challenge tonight and that was fine with me - I hadn't had one
in a while.

   Instead of getting up and hitting me over the head with a chair, she sat
back and drank her water.  She wore a curious expression: part hatred, part
awe, and part confusion.  She'd just been completely destroyed in front of
her home fans.  She was curious to know how I'd done it.  I'd never tell
her the truth, of course, but before the night was over, Sherry would know
her master.  I intended to indulge my D/s fantasies a little bit -
something I didn't do all that often but occasionally enjoyed.  Maintaining
a full time submissive is a lot of work - much more work than I wanted to
put in.  So I occasionally selected a woman at random and turned her into,
for at least a night or two, a sub to my Dom.  All of these women were well
compensated in terms of the things I did for them with the MasterPC, and
none of them remembered the experience or were harmed in any way.  A few
had dreams and some started reading John Norman, but that was pretty
harmless.

   I finished my meal, drained the last of my beer, put down enough to
cover the check, the round for the house, a nice tip for Denise, and stood
up to leave.  Sherry just sat there.

   "C'mon, Sherry.  Time to pay up."

   "You don't really think I'm leaving here with you asshole?"

   "Yes, as a matter of fact I do.  For one thing, you made a bet and if it
gets around you're a welsher, that isn't going to help your rep much. 
Second, I think you really really want to know how I beat you and the only
way you can find out is to come with me."

   She looked at me for a moment, indecision mixed with fear, anger, and
curiosity written all over her face.

   "Shit," she said, standing.

   We walked out to my car in silence.  I opened her door and closed it for
her when she was seated.  I went around to the other side, got in, started
the car, and drove off.

   We weren't too far from Wisconsin Dells and since it was the middle of
the week there were likely to be a lot of vacancies at some pretty nice
spots.  I drove to one and checked us into a suite.  I grabbed my bag from
the car and we were soon in a spacious three room apartment with a king
sized bed, fireplace, and wet bar.  It was more like a condo than a hotel
room.

   "OK, Sherry, here's how it's going to go.  We're going to have a series
of competitions based on strength and skill.  Anytime I win, you have to do
whatever I tell you to do.  Anytime you win, I give you $100 and you can
leave whenever you want." I punctuated the last sentence by removing five
$100 bills from my wallet and laying them out on the table of the suite's
little dining area.

   For the first time since I had beaten her, she smiled.  She thought she
actually had a chance.  She was a big woman, almost as tall as me, and, I
thought, she probably weighed about 180, which is what I weigh these days.
Plus, from looking at me, she knew she had a lot more muscle - or so she
thought.  I saw the memory of how easily I had defeated her in the saloon
flit across her face.  But, then, it might have been some sort of trick. 
Her confidence was returning and I knew I had to deal with that quickly.

   "Let's start with arm wrestling.  Now I know you probably dealt with a
few guys in the bar with your right arm, so let's go left arm to left arm
to make it even for you - what do you say?"

   "Sure," she said.

   We sat at the table and I put my left hand and arm in position.  She
flexed her muscles a few times and then sat down across from me and we
joined hands.

   "I tell you what, Sherry, I'll let you count down this time, and I'll
spot you a little angle."

   I pulled us into a position where my hand was more than half way to the
table top.  She started to protest, then thought better of it.

   "I'm gonna fucking break your arm, asshole," she said.

   "Go for it." I was looking straight into her blue eyes and smiling.

   "Ready.  Set.  GO!"

   I snapped her hand over and slammed it onto the table top.  She'd had
the advantage of knowing the timing of "go." She'd had the advantage of
starting with me half way gone.  And, yet, I'd put her down like she was a
five year old.

   "Two out of three," she hissed.  "This has to be some sort of trick."

   "Sure.  Two out of three it is.  This time I'll start closer to the
table."

   I positioned our hands so that the back of mine was only an inch from
the table top.  Surely she could move me that last inch - after all,
gravity and leverage would be heavily in her favor.  But doubt is a tricky
thing, and she had doubts - lots of them - now.

   "Don't bother calling it, just start whenever you're ready," I said,
taunting her.

   SLAM!  The back of her hand hit the table top again.  She absolutely
couldn't believe it.  She looked at her hand as if it was an errant child
who'd misbehaved.

   "You lose, Sherry.  Time to pay up."

   She was defeated yet still defiant.  That was good.  I didn't want her
to break just yet.

   "For the rest of the evening you will address me as Sir, or Master.  Say
`Yes Master' anytime I give you a command.  Say `thank you master' anytime
I grant you a favor."

   She hesitated and then mumbled, "yes master," in a voice that suggested
I was anything but her master.

   "I didn't hear that."

   "Yes, Master," she said in a sullen voice.

   "Say it with a smile on your face."

   "Fuck you."

   I reached across the table and slapped her face, once, hard, and so
quickly that she never saw me move.  She wouldn't have been sure that she'd
been slapped if she hadn't felt the sharp sting.

   "That's twice this evening you've said `fuck you' and I won't have it
again.  The next time will earn you a dislocated joint somewhere." I said
this in the voice of someone ordering coffee - pleasantly matter of fact.

   "I want to hear a `yes master' without the attitude and loud enough for
me to know you mean it, because, Sherry, as I'm going to prove to you this
evening, I AM your MASTER," I said, leaning toward her across the table and
staring straight into her eyes.

   "Yes Master," she responded, taking the first step toward submission.

   "OK, we've done enough arm wrestling.  Let's try something else.  Why
don't you suggest a competition?"

   Sherry thought about this, looking around the room.  She spotted what
she wanted in the doorway between this room and the bedroom portion of the
suite.  The wall didn't go all the way to the ceiling between the living
room and bedroom.

   "Pull ups.  Whoever does the most in sixty seconds wins," she said, some
of her confidence returning.

   "Fair enough...fair enough.  You can go first."

   She got up and went to the doorway.  She rubbed her hands up and down
her arms, then shook her whole body, loosening her muscles.

   I selected "clock" from my iPhone's utility aps and got the stopwatch
function on line.  "Go," I said, pressing the start button.

   Positioning herself, she jumped up and grasped the top of the door frame
and began pulling her body up and down careful not to let her feet touch
the floor.  It was an impressive display.  She was like a machine going up
and down.  I counted down the seconds.  She kept going up and down, up and
down.  Forty-eight times in sixty seconds.  Not bad.  Not bad at all, but
not good enough.

   "Time," I said.  "Now it's my turn," I added handing her the iPhone and
walked over to the doorway.

   "I tell you what, Sherry," I said, smiling benevolently, "I'll do mine
one handed just to give you an advantage."

   She snorted derisively at this insult.  "You ready?" she asked.

   "Ready."

   "Go," she said, starting the stop watch.

   I jumped up and grabbed the top of the frame with my left hand,
something Sherry would certainly notice, and rapidly began a series of the
fastest pull ups she'd ever seen.  Her mouth hung open as she watched me
move my body up and down seemingly without effort, 100 times in sixty
seconds - one handed.

   "I win again," I said.  "Take off your top and give it to me.  Say `yes
master, thank you master,' as you do so."

   She was still stunned by my display of strength.  She stood there, her
mouth open in shock and disbelief.

   "Sherry?" I queried, speaking as if my patience was not infinite.

   Her hands went to her t-backed halter and she removed it.

   "Yes, Master.  Thank you master," she said through gritted teeth.  It
had cost her more to say those words than it had to lose the contests.

   I had turned my back on her to toss her top on the bed to see what she
would do.  She tried kidney punching me, which might have worked except
that I was waiting for just such a move.  Instead of her fist meeting the
soft flesh in the small of my back, she found herself doubled up in pain
with her arm pushed back up behind her.

   "If you struggle you'll break your elbow," I whispered menacingly into
her ear.  "All those roids you take must make you stupid.  I'm going to let
you go now and I want you to very slowly and carefully take off the rest of
your clothing and then stand in the middle of the room.  Do it!"

   I let her go with a shove.  She was bewildered.  She had no idea that
any human being could move as fast as I must have to counter her surprise
move.  In a daze, she moved to the center of the room and slowly stripped
until she was naked.  She was gorgeous if you like the muscle type.  She
had no hair other than what was on her head.  Her whole body was tanned a
beautiful golden color.  She'd obviously spent a lot of time sculpting it
and was proud of what she'd accomplished.  As she got naked I saw a change
come over her.  Apparently she was treating this like a competition and I
was a judge.  Her job was to impress me.  Well, I was impressed.

   Like many female body builders she had small, tight, breasts and a very
prominent set of pussy lips with a clit hood that made my mouth water.  I
have a clitoral fetish - I know it's weird, but some women like big cocks
and I like big clits.  Call me eccentric.

   I gave a low whistle of appreciation and saw her respond with what had
to be a blush.

   "Turn around.  I want to see your whole body.  Pose for me."

   "Yes, Master," she said without being prompted.  This was progress.

   She complied, showing me the full extent of her muscular flesh in a
series of competition poses.  She was truly magnificent and I was going to
enjoy taming her.  She'd just had a taste of how strong I was.  I'd need to
be careful not to break anything.

   I took off my clothes while she was showing me her back side.

   "Face me."

   She turned back around and stared.  I'm trim and toned, and I have a
decent six pack, but I didn't go overboard.  I'm no muscle freak.  What she
was staring at was old Mr.  Happy, who was fully erect and eager to have
some fun.  I'm no less penis-centered than the next guy, and I'd continued
to tinker with myself, experimenting to see what looked the most
impressive. I didn't add any more length, but I did add some girth. 
Imagine a beer can ten inches long, tapered at one end.  That's my Johnson.
My AFF profile didn't have a picture of this monster on it - I still used
the very first one I'd taken way back when in that Madison hotel room.  It
was impressive enough.

   "I'm a different kind of body builder, Sherry.  There's only one muscle
I work on, and I've managed to create something pretty special, don't you
think?"

   "You're not seriously going to use that on me," Sherry stammered.

   "You're not seriously going to use that on me, Master," I corrected. 
"Sherry, not only am I going to use this on you," I said, grasping my cock
and shaking it at her, "but you're going to beg me to do it my little slut
puppy bitch."

   Sherry moaned - fear or desire?  I didn't know for certain, but probably
both.  I rearranged the furniture in the room to create a nice open space
in the middle of the floor.

   "Let's try wrestling," I said.  "Perhaps you'll win and walk out of here
with my money," I said in a voice that clearly said that this was not going
to happen.  She didn't believe it either and I could start to see defeat in
her eyes.  She was almost ready to surrender to me - almost, but not quite.

   I stepped to the middle of the room and assumed a wrestler's stance. 
She did the same.

   "Whenever you're ready," I said.

   She feinted a few times and then lunged at me.  It was a skillful move
and I could see that she'd wrestled before.  Once again, however, my
superior strength and speed proved decisive.  She found herself on the
floor, her legs in the air, her shoulders against the carpet, and my face
just inches from hers.  She struggled to free herself to no avail.  It
really wasn't fair.  But I wasn't going to let that stop me.  I let go of
her legs for a moment and she slammed her feet on the floor, arching her
back.  My purpose however was served and I thrust my hand between her legs,
holding her down with my body and my other arm.  I was rubbing her pussy.

   "Nooooooooo," she screamed.

   "Yes," I hissed, sliding a finger into what had rapidly become a well
lubricated channel.

   Suddenly I pulled my fingers out and stood up.  She lay on the floor for
a moment and then twisted her body, attempting to kick my legs out from
under me.  I easily avoided her maneuver and followed up with one of my
own, this time putting her face first onto the carpet with both arms locked
behind her back.  Sweat covered her rippling flesh and I had to admire the
work she'd done sculpting such a magnificent set of muscles.  She was truly
a work of art.  I was going to enjoy conquering her.  Later, I'd use the
MasterPC to erase the memory of her defeat.  All she'd remember was meeting
a nice man who gave her $500 for some private posing.  I'm not a
monster...well, not most of the time.  In the meantime, I needed to defeat
her utterly, and I wanted to do it quickly because I was really getting
horny.

   She struggled and I let her.  She was unable to break my hold or move. I
could feel her spending her strength.  She wasn't using her head now.  She
had become frantic with fear.  Not just fear of losing, but fear of me.  I
had discovered something when I slipped my finger into her quim - oh Sherry
was tight and though I did not detect a hymen as such, it seemed entirely
possible that she'd never been penetrated by a cock.  I was amazed.

   A virgin?  Who knew?  Perhaps she was a lesbian.  No matter - she was
mine.

   I maintained the hold for another few seconds and then released her
again.  She lay there, spent for the moment.  Then she got up, determined
not to give in, only to be slammed back to the floor again the next moment
and pinned under me.  She tried wrapping her massive thighs around my
middle, thinking to squeeze me into submission.  All this did, however, was
to bring my massive cock into contact with her pussy.  The underside of my
guided flesh missile rubbed up and down against her sweat covered outer
folds and across her outsized clitoris.

   Her scissors lock was not having any effect on me but the rocking motion
she'd initiated trying to find an advantage was having an effect on her.  I
was looking into her eyes and started to see desire awaken within her.  I
leaned in and kissed her, covering her mouth with mine.  She resisted,
barring her teeth at me and growling her defiance.  I had her wrists pinned
to the floor beneath my hands.  Every move she made just caused more
friction between my cock and her pussy.  She moved her head from side to
side trying to avoid my mouth.  I kissed her cheeks, her nose, her neck,
her forehead, and then I finally caught her mouth as she opened it to gasp
in pleasure as my cock rubbed her clit.  I felt her body go slack.  Her
legs released their hold, her leg muscles trembling with exertion.  She
accepted my kiss and my victory.  She was mine.

   Her whole body trembled with mixed relief and fear.  She'd been beaten.
She'd been defeated.  She'd been dominated.  All this by a man who she
should have, seemingly, been able to break in half.  The reason she'd still
been a virgin at 25 was that no man had ever been able to break her to his
will.  She got her sexual jollies with other female athletes and wannabees.
But she was always in charge.

   Suddenly her entire world had been turned upside down.

   Sherry went from accepting my kiss to returning it.  Her hips pumped
against me, seeking the contact that had stopped when she dropped her hold.
I broke the kiss and looked into her eyes.  She looked down, not meeting my
gaze.  That was a good sign.

   "You are going to obey me absolutely for the remainder of the evening,
aren't you slut puppy," I said quietly, matter-of-factly.

   "Yes, Master," she immediately replied.

   "You will have no further choices to make about anything that happens
for the rest of the evening.  I will decide what to do with you and where
and when.  Your will is now mine.  Do you understand this slut puppy?"

   "Yes, Master," she said, this time in almost a whisper.

   "Good slut puppy.  Let's hit the shower."

   I got up and extended my hand, which she took, and I easily pulled her
up from the floor.  I held her hand in mine as we walked into the large
bathroom.  This suite was really top notch.  The bath was one of those two
room affairs with an outer room containing a toilet and vanity with a sink.
The second room held a large whirlpool tub on a dais.  It was all tile -
floor, ceiling, and walls - with a floor drain in the middle and large
shower heads against the far wall.  The whole room was a shower.

   I turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature to suit my
preferences.

   "Wash me, slave, and do a good job," I commanded.

   "Yes, sir," she said, taking the soap and working up some lather in her
hands.  She did a great job and it felt wonderful to have her strong hands
working my flesh with the slippery suds.  She didn't even give into the
temptation to crush my balls when she was lathering my privates.  When she
had thoroughly cleaned me, I rinsed myself off and then took the soap in my
own hands.

   "Put your arms out," I ordered.

   "Yes, sir."

   She put her arms out, turning herself into a tall, blond, letter `T'.  I
started soaping her under the arms; I soaped each arm and started on her
torso.  I was gentle but firm.  I wasn't washing her as much as I was
caressing her, stimulating her, letting her know I thought she was
beautiful and desirable as a slave.  She was my prize and I was treating
her as such.  By washing her this way I was further establishing my
ownership.

   Her eyes were closed, and even under the tan I could see a flush start
to form on her face flowing down across her upper chest.

   "Spread your legs."

   She complied without saying anything this time.  She complied eagerly.

   "Hands behind your head.  Lock `em," I ordered.

   She stood there on display, her wet skin glistening in the harsh light
of the bathroom.  Her legs were apart and her pubic mound was prominent,
the large inner labia protruding from the thick outer lips, and above all,
a thick clitoral hood jutting out like a miniature cock - in mockery of her
gender.

   My soapy hands worked their way down her washboard abs and around to the
small of her back.  I was standing quite close now and I could hear her
breathing change every time I touched her.

   I moved behind her and continued to soap her lower abs carefully
avoiding her pussy.  I reached down and cupped her muscular ass cheeks,
gently kneading them with strong soapy hands.  A low moan escaped at this
point followed by a gasp as a soapy finger slipped into the crack between
her ass cheeks and touched the wrinkled opening to her rectum.

   I soaped my cock and slid it between those cheeks, rubbing it against
her pussy lips, feeling her muscular back against my chest.  Her body
trembled as she felt my massive cock stroking back and forth between her
legs; rubbing against her now tumescent labial folds; the mushroom shaped
head just missing the opening between them on every stroke; teasing her
with the possibility of violation.  My hands roamed her torso tracing the
muscular ridges of her rippling abdomen, cupping her breasts, teasing the
nipples now hardened to points of desire.  I could hear her breath hiss
between her clenched teeth.  She was, in spite of her earlier defeats,
trying desperately not to respond to my touch; she was hoping to deny me
this last, crushing, victory.

   But I had come too far to give up now.  My need to possess her suddenly
overwhelmed all of my other senses - moral and physical.  I had to conquer
her.  I could give no quarter; leave no part of her to herself alone.  I
had seen the flash of desire in her earlier.  I had felt her surrender her
lips to my kiss and return it.  I knew that before the night was through
she would willingly surrender herself to me and I knew that patience was
required but it was difficult with her flesh in my hands and my raging cock
poised at the entrance to her delightfully tight pussy.

   Taking a deep breath, I slid my cock out from between her legs and
directed the shower spray so that we were both rinsed off.  She hadn't
moved her arms from the last position I'd ordered her into.

   "Lower your arms, slut puppy," I said.  She complied at once.

   I grabbed a towel and began drying her off.  When she was dry, I gave
her a towel and without a word, she did the same for me.  I watched her
carefully for any signs that she might be considering some sort of
rebellion - one that would involve her crushing my nads in her powerful
grip.  Nothing happened.  She patted me dry and then stood back, towel in
hand, and waited for her next instructions.  Frankly I was amazed at the
level of her docility.  Was she trying to lull me into a false sense of
security?

   "Tell me how you feel, Sherry," I said, using her name instead of
calling her `slut puppy' or `slave' or any other similar title.

   "Confused, sir."

   "Confused.  Anything else?"

   "Horny," she whispered, her humiliation written in huge letters for
anyone with an ounce of non verbal training to see.

   "You want this," I said, pointing to my cock.

   She looked at her feet.  She said nothing.

   "Look at me, Sherry," I said.  She lifted her head and looked at me.

   "You want my cock don't you, Sherry?"

   She looked down again and I barely heard her response, "yes sir."

   "I didn't catch that.  What is it you want?  Say it out loud and look at
me when you do, Sherry."

   "I want your cock, sir," she spat the last word like an obscenity.  I
had forced her to admit something she would have considered vile a few
hours ago - the idea that she would want a man's cock had been repugnant to
her.  And, now, it wasn't so much that she wanted my cock, but that I had
beaten her in contests that she had routinely won against other men.  I had
done things to her that no one had ever done.  Yes, she was confused.  She
was humiliated by losing and humiliated again by the fact that I had
awakened desires in her that she had never before experienced.

   "Where do you want it, Sherry?"

   I saw a tear form at the corner of her left eye.  This was costing her
something.  I was going to need to reward her in some way for what I was
doing.  Fortunately, I had that power as well.

   "Sherry.  You must answer me.  You've come this far.  Finish it.  Tell
me what you want."

   "I want that," she said, pointing at my cock still saluting this
muscular beauty, "in my pussy." She looked at me, that tear which had been
at the corner of her eye now slipping down across her left cheek.

   With that, I took her in my arms and kissed her.  I kissed her long and
deeply.  I put everything I had into that kiss.  It was a kiss that meant I
had won the battle but was prepared to be magnanimous in victory.  It was
meant to soothe and reassure her and also to continue to assert my
dominance and control.  But her tears did have an effect.  They distracted
me.

   Women's tears do that to me.  It never fails.  And that's why I was
totally unprepared for the knee that connected with my groin.  My whole
world exploded and then imploded almost simultaneously.  Pain, like white
hot magma, exploded across my nervous system.  I bent over, making my neck
a perfect target for an elbow which was delivered with all the mercy of a
guillotine.  That blow, delivered with all the force of a steam driven pile
driver, should have killed me.  Instead, it just pissed me off.  I was on
my face, my cheek pressed against the cool tile of the bathroom floor, my
breath coming in gasps as my nervous system tried to recover from the
tsunami of pain that had overwhelmed it.

   Sherry, thinking she'd finished me, had walked out of the bathroom and
was hurrying to get her clothes back on and make her escape.  When she
looked up from tying her shoes, her expression went from triumph to
complete shock.  I was standing between her and the door, apparently
unharmed by two blows that would have put anyone else in the hospital.  I
sent a mental prayer of thanks to whoever had invented the MasterPC
software.  They'd done a great job.  Of course without that software I
would never have gotten myself into this situation in the first place.

   "Sherry, Sherry, Sherry - I thought we'd gotten past all this man-hating
rage.  I was about to give you the most exquisite night of pleasure you'd
ever experienced.  I can see you're not ready for pleasure yet.  You still
haven't learned who is in charge here, have you?

   Super speed has some real advantages.  While Sherry had been putting on
her clothing, I had gotten up, retrieved my iPhone, called up MasterPC, and
had taken away, for the next few minutes, Sherry's ability to speak in
anything more than a feeble whisper - she could not scream.

   "Don't...don't...don't," she started, then cleared her throat, or tried
to.

   "Don't come near you or you'll scream?  Is that what you were about to
say slut puppy?"

   Fear dominated her features now.  All of her toughness was based on
being able to outmuscle her opponents.  This time muscles had failed her.
Tears had almost gotten her out of this jam.  Now, she faced a pissed off
enemy who had proven to be more than a match for her physically.  And, she
was shocked to realize, she was still horny.  She really DID want my cock.
It was written all over her.  Or at least that's the way I read the play of
expressions and body language that ran through her from head to toe in the
few seconds it took for my words to sink in.

   "You can't scream, Sherry.  I'm afraid I can't allow that."

   She tried to though, I'll give her that.  Her mouth opened and sound
came out, but you'd have had to be in the same room to hear it.

   "To paraphrase an old sci-fi movie, Sherry, in this suite, no one can
hear you scream."

   She launched herself at me, fingers extended like claws.  She was
fighting for her life and was determined to go down still fighting.  I
blocked her attack and punched her in the solar plexus hard enough to stun
her.  She struggled to draw breath.  She still managed to throw a punch.  I
blocked it easily.  I grabbed her by the hair and frog marched her into the
bedroom of the suite.  Then I picked her up, yes right off the floor, and
tossed her on the bed.  She lay there, stunned; trying to breathe.

   I'm not a violent man.  In fact, I abhor violence.  I don't approve of
war.  Wars are mostly started by men who've never fought in one or never
faced death.  Too many innocent people get killed in wars, and too few
leaders.  My view is that if we are to go to war then the children and
grand children of the people who run the government and of those who profit
from conflict should be in the front lines.  That might mean fewer wars. 
But, I digress.  As I said, I'm not a violent man.  I did not like being
physical with Sherry.  It went against my grain.  Oh when we'd been
competing, that was one thing, but this, this I found distasteful.

   "Sherry, why do you continue to behave this way?  You've already
admitted that you want my cock in your pussy.  And, yet, you tried to do me
harm.  Have I harmed you in any way tonight?  Be fair.  Have I?"

   She was silent; curled in a ball on the bed.  I was still naked, my cock
was hard.  She did not resist as I stripped her.  When she was naked, I
stood back and just looked at her.  She was a beautiful specimen of a
specific type of woman.  Amazons are often worshiped by lesser men.  They
crave the dominance of a strong woman.  They want to be physically
overpowered by a `goddess.' In my case, I wanted to overpower this goddess
and make her submit to my will.  I get like that sometimes - I have a
streak of pure bastard in me that occasionally escapes my usually
Midwestern-nice persona.  This was one of those times when my `evil twin
Skippy' had slipped the leash.  Sigh.

   I sat next to Sherry on the bed.  I began to caress her skin, tracing
the ridges and valleys of her chiseled features.  She'd done a wonderful
job of sculpting herself into something that many would call grotesque.  I
had some admiration for the effort that went into body building.  In that
context, Sherry was a beautiful woman.

   I got up from the bed and went to my bag.  I retrieved a bottle of
massage oil and began rolling it between my palms, warming it somewhat.

   "Lay on your belly, crossways on the bed, Sherry," I said in as pleasant
a voice as I could.

   She complied.  Her head was toward me.  I poured some of the oil on my
hands and rubbed them together warming it further.  I began to massage
Sherry, beginning with the massive muscles of her shoulders and working my
way down.  She moaned, enjoying the feeling of my strong hands working her
muscles.  She had expected a beating and instead she was getting pleasure.
She accepted it, but it confused her.

   When I had worked my way down to her buttocks I put more oil into my
hands and dribbled some right into the crack between the perfectly sculpted
mounds of her gluteus maxima.  Her whole body shivered like a horse getting
rid of flies.  I dug my fingers into the muscles of her ass and went to
work.  I worked those fingers into the crevice at her center.  She spread
her legs.  I smiled.  I worked her muscles but did not touch her cookie. 
Eventually, I worked my way down the backs of her massive thighs, behind
her knees, her calves, and finally, her feet.  I spent some quality time
with her feet.  She was moaning and gasping almost constantly now and I
could see her sex dew collecting on the petals of her flower.

   "Roll over."

   I began at her feet this time and massaged my way back up those
magnificently muscled legs.  Now I was looking at her face as I worked my
magic on her flesh.  Her eyes were closed.  Her lips were slightly parted,
as were her legs.  I massaged her left thigh all the way to the top and let
the back of my hand just barely graze the turgid flesh of her pussy lips.
She gasped and her hips bucked up off the bed seeking to prolong the
contact.  I wasn't done teasing yet and I switched to her right leg giving
an expert massage to this appendage as well.  In another minute she would
beg me to fuck her brains out.  I knew it and so did she.  And, yet, she
resisted.  I admired her for her resolve; not that it would do her any
good. She was overmatched in ways she couldn't conceive of - yet.

   I poured oil onto her washboard abs and worked it skillfully into the
highly developed flesh there; up her rib cage, and, finally, her tits.  I
used both hands with plenty of oil to first gently and then with more
force, mold and shape the twin mounds of flesh protruding from her amazing
pectoral muscles.  They weren't very large, but she had very sensitive
nipples.  I tweaked and tugged, rubbed and caressed her breasts and nipples
slowly driving her insane with unfulfilled lust.  This was foreplay with a
vengeance.  Personally, I enjoy edge play; the longer the delay in
gratification the greater the satisfaction - up to a point.  I hadn't quite
reached that point with Sherry yet.  I was waiting for her to make a move.

   "Please," she whispered.

   "Please what, Sherry?"

   "Please, Master" she whispered again, begging for release.

   "What do you want Sherry?"

   "Pleasefuckmemaster," she gasped making four words into one.

   "I didn't quite get that, Sherry.  What was it you wanted me to do?"

   "Please.  Fuck.  Me.  Master," she hissed, finally.  There were tears on
her cheeks now.  She was broken.  I had done it.  I'd probably feel bad
later, but that was then.  This was now.  I spread her massive thighs and
lifted them, pushing her knees back as I positioned myself between them. 
My cock had never been harder or more ready to fuck.  It knew what it
wanted even if I didn't and since it was getting most of the blood supply
that meant that it was in charge.

   Her beautiful pussy, the product of years of steroid abuse, was spread
open in front of me.  The lips looked like those of someone from those
rough-sex videos that have been subjected to frequent vacuum pumping.  I
wanted to lick her pussy but there wasn't time.  I wanted to fuck her now
just to complete what I'd started back at that little country bar a few
hours ago.

   I rubbed the head of my dick up and down her soaking split before
notching it in the opening and flexing my hips.  I drove my cock into her
all in one go and with some force, pinning her to the bed.  Damn she was
tight.  I might really have been the first man to pierce that pussy.  It
was wet and hot and oh so tight.

   "FUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!!!"

   I was going to have to do some memory modification if there were any
guests within two rooms of us.  Her scream of pleasure and shock at the
sudden invasion of my massive cock could have awoken the dead.  It nearly
deafened me.  I should have taken her voice away for a longer period of
time.  Oh well.  I covered Sherry's mouth with mine and kissed her deeply
as I began to fuck her seriously.  This was no slow buildup of speed and
force.  I started out hard and fast and she started orgasming almost
immediately.

   She was cumming continuously and crying at the same time.  She was
crying because I had given her no choice.  She didn't want to cum.  She
didn't want to give up her virginity to me or any other man.  But I took
that choice away and forced her to have orgasm after orgasm.  For one
thing, when she clenched her interior muscles, it felt really good on my
cock.  And, for another thing (much more important to me at the moment) it
also meant that she was now my complete and utter slave, bereft of all
choices except those I granted her.  That evil twin Skippy is sure a prick.
Good thing he doesn't slip the leash all that often.

   She had her arms around me as well as her legs and she pushed back just
as hard as I pushed at her.  For a while there was some question as to who
was fucking whom.  But the one thing I could say for sure was that there
was fucking happening.  This wasn't romantic lovemaking like you might find
in a Nica Noelle video.  No sir, this was fucking.  It wasn't pretty and it
sounded like two pigs feeding.  It also didn't last all that long.

   Sherry gave up the psychic ghost about ten minutes into the bout and
fainted from emotional and physical overload.  Being pounded in the pussy
for an extended period in the press position can do that to a person.  I
hadn't cum yet, but that wasn't all that important to me.  I could cum any
time.  Orgasms can be over emphasized.

   So I pulled my cock out of her pussy which was still clenching and
releasing even though Sherry was unconscious.  I found her wallet in her
jacket and got her address.  I took $500 out of my wallet and put it in
hers.  Then I opened my iPhone ap for the MasterPC program and made some
adjustments.  She would be a null wave transmitter for a little while. 
Sort of like Mr.  Spock in that Star Trek episode where some alien babes
stole his brain - she was like Spock's brainless body, completely under my
control.  Her mind was elsewhere.

   We got dressed and I took her home.  I made sure she got to bed and then
I left.  In the morning she'd be a little sore and would wonder how that
happened, but she wouldn't remember anything except losing an arm wrestling
match to a guy who then bought a round for the whole bar before paying her
500 bucks for some private posing and then dropping her off at her place.

   As for me, I drove back to the hotel, took a hot shower, went to bed,
and got up the next day to continue my business trip.  It was successful,
as I knew it would be.  And before I knew it, I was back home and looking
forward to getting better acquainted with my new assistant Julia.  

	----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
	This post has been reformatted by ASSTR's
	Smart Text Enhancement Processor (STEP)
	system due to inadequate formatting.
	----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

	
<1st attachment end>


----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+