Path: not-for-mail
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage.stories
Subject: Title story: "Bonnie's Battered Boy Friend" Author: Anonymous 45599749
From: xHunter <ryzij@poczta.fm>
Lines: 386
Message-ID: <NO4pe.252563$uu5.207298@fe05.news.easynews.com>
X-Complaints-To: abuse@easynews.com
Organization: EasyNews, UseNet made Easy!
X-Complaints-Info: Please be sure to forward a copy of ALL headers otherwise we will be unable to process your complaint properly.
Date: Mon, 06 Jun 2005 23:15:57 +0000
===================
You can at any time to read and comment the Stories sent to us
OR You can always add a favourite story on here http://free.photoset.biz/addstory.html
OR Add a favourite site on here http://free.photoset.biz/addlink.html
The continue of this history http://free.photoset.biz
Free XXX photos on http://tgp.photoset.biz ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bonnie's Battered Boy Friend
I first met Bonnie two years ago in a health club to which we both belonged, and
I was immediately struck by her strength, beauty and femininity. An inch taller
than my own 5'9" and with a powerful, muscular, yet shapely body that outweighed
my own by a good ten pounds, I was fastinated at the way she could outlift most
of the men at the club and struck up a conversation with her. When she invited
me to come home with her I accepted eagerly.
However, I soon discovered what she had in mind for me. Quickly changing into
sensuous black tights that revealed every muscle and curve of her fantastic
body, she challenged me to a friendly wrestling match. Almost drooling at the
prospect of physical contact with this gorgeous Amazon, I readily agreed, and
before I realized it she had me downstairs on a wrestling mat in her gameroom.
We closed, locking hands, and I held my own for a moment or two while she tested
my strength, but after that I never had a chance. She was stronger and faster
than I and knew every trick in the book. She put me through a dozen holds in as
many minutes, maintaining each hold just long enough to ensure that I couldn't
escape and then moving into the next one. She finished me off by getting behind
me, wrapping her powerful arms around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides and
lifting me completely off the mat in a crushing bear hug that I thought would
cave in my ribs until I was completely limp with exhaus- tion. Then she put me
across her shoulders and gave me an airplane spin that left my mind reeling. She
finally ended the contest--if you could call it that--by gripping my neck and
buttocks and heaving me up over her head, her arms fully extend- ed, to hold me
there, seemingly ten feet in the air, my nose inches from the ceiling, while I
struggled feebly to escape her grip, and then tossing me on my back, stradding
my chest and pinning my shoulders to the mat with her knees.
After I had regained my breath and some semblance of com- posure, she asked me
if I thought I could beat her at anything. I told her that I had done some
boxing in college, but that I would never dream of fighting a girl. She laughed
and asked, "What's the matter? Afraid I'll clean your clock for you?" and
produced two pair of boxing gloves. I hesitated, but finally decided this girl
needed a lesson, so I put them on and we squared off. Initially, she seemed
content to fight defensively; I used every trick I knew, but she was incredibly
fast, and her bobbing and weaving caused me to miss almost every punch I threw.
The few that were on target she easily slipped or blocked. Finally, in
desperation, I threw a roundhouse right, but she stepped inside it and, taking
the initiative, began peppering me with jabs and hooks to my face and body that
came with blurring speed and sent me reeling backward. I tried to cover up and
dodge her blows, but she seemed to anticipate my every move, and the accuracy of
her punches was phenomenal. In the next few seconds she hit me thirty or forty
times, and, although her punches weren't hard, my head was reeling from their
cumulative effect. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, her onslaught
stopped, and she stood watching me, a smile decorating her lovely face as I
swayed back and forth in front of her. "Nighty night, lover," she said softly.
"No more lovetaps. I'm going to put your lights out with one punch." Alarmed, I
started to back away, but her body became a blur of motion, and then something
slammed into my jaw with the force of a sledgehammer, spun me almost completely
around and tumbled me backward into oblivion.
When I came to I was lying naked in her bed, and she was lying on her side next
to me looking down at me and running one hand lightly up and down my body.
Seeing my eyes open, she chuckled and leaned down to kiss me lightly on the tip
of my nose. "Welcome back, baby," she said. "I was beginning to think you'd
never come around."
"How--how did I get here?" I blurted.
She laughed. "Why, I carried you up here, of course. After I took your clothes
off. You know, baby, you have a very nice, soft, little body, just the kind I
like to play with. And you made a marvelous armful as I was carrying you up
here, so cute and cuddly. I think I'm going to have lots of fun with you."
I gasped and tried to get up, only to find that both my wrists were locked back
over my head in the powerful grasp of her left hand. As I continued to struggle
I felt her other hand slide between my thighs to firmly cup my penis and
testicles in her palm. I stopped struggling in a hurry. "What--what are you
going to do with me?" I stammered.
She grinned at my helplessness. "Can't you guess? You know, beating you up
really turned me on in a big way. And that soft, sexy little body of yours--
well, it's enough to drive a girl wild. I damn near raped you just carrying you
up here. But now that I've got you in bed, baby, I'm going to bang you like
you've never been banged before. And you're going to love every minute of it."
I gasped in dismay. That would be the final blow. Being raped by a girl! The
thought sent chills down my spine. "That-- that's impossible!" I croaked.
She laughed. "Wanta bet? I'll bet you your paycheck I can do anything I want to
with you. Watch!"
Still holding my wrists pinned behind my head with one hand and my crotch firmly
in the grip of her other hand, she lowered her head to capture my mouth with her
own in a crushing french kiss that took my breath away. Then, before I could
recover, she was biting and kissing my face and neck with a passion that amazed
me. As she did so, I felt the hand cupping my crotch start to massage and stroke
me intimately, tickling the inside of my thighs and caressing my testicles while
I struggled helplessly in her grip. Then I felt her hand grip my penis firmly,
her thumb over its tip, as she began to masturbate me. I gasped and redoubled my
efforts at resistance, but she quickly locked her legs around mine and I was
encased in a steel vice from which I could not escape as she continued to
manipulate my body at will.
I had never believe it possible for a woman to rape a man, but Bonnie had me
writhing with a throbbing erection within a few minutes, as pangs of sexual
desire flooded my body. I heard myself moaning in mingled shame and passion, and
as she finally mounted me and took me inside her I thought I was going to climax
right then and there. Somehow, she stopped me. Something about the way her hands
held my body, that I haven't figured out to this day, brought me back from the
brink until she was ready, and then I heard her breathe, "Now!" and the world
exploded in an orgasm that filled my entire being, lifting me with her and
carrying me on a wave of ecstacy to heights I had never known before.
When it was over, I lay limp and quivering beneath her as she grinned down at
me. "I think you just lost this week's paycheck, baby," she told me softly. "And
don't tell me it wasn't worth it. From the way you were moaning, I'll bet it was
the best you've ever had." Despite being redfaced with shame, I had to admit she
was right, and when I said so she laughed. "For what it's worth, baby, you were
pretty good yourself, good enough that I think I may take you around a few more
times before the night is out. After that, well, we'll see how you hold up."
She was as good as her word. She held me helpless on the bed and raped me again
and again, so often I lost count. Even when I thought I had no more to give her,
somehow she brought me to climax after climax, sometimes when it seemed that I
was only semiconscious, controlling my body with her hands and lips in a way I
would never have thought possible. There was no question of my failing her--she
wouldn't let me fail her; even when I was moaning and begging her to stop,
although I swore my body could feel nothing else, she would laugh and force me
into another, incredible orgasm.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, she let me up, forced me to sign my
weekly paycheck over to her as payment for the bet she had made me (I didn't
recall accepting her bet, but with my left arm twisted up behind my back I
really had no choice), helped me to get dressed and guided me on unsteady feet
to the door. As I opened the door she suddenly put her arms around my waist and
pulled me forward, crushing me against her and bending me backward in a french
kiss that took my breath away. Then, stooping slightly, she wrapped her arms
around my hips and straightened, lifting me several inches off the floor, and
backed me against the door, looking up at me with a smile decorating her lovely
face. "You were good tonight, baby," she said softly. "So I'll pick you up after
work next Friday and we can spend next weekend having some more fun. Wouldn't
you like that?"
I gasped. "I--I don't know..." I stammered.
She chuckled. "I do. I'll pick you up next Friday. Bodily, if necessary." She
set me down and, with a pat on my backside, sent me on my way.
That was the beginning. Every Friday night after that she would be waiting for
me after work in her convertible to take me home with her. A couple of times I
tried to resist, but she simply reached out to take my wrist in a bonecrushing
grip and force me into the car. At her home, she would strip me naked, change
into tights and, after making me bet her my paycheck that she could do whatever
she wanted with me, spend the next hour or so doing whatever she wanted with
me. I tried to reason with her, pointing out that she was leaving me nothing
but my savings to live on, but she simply laughed and told me to let her know
when my savings were exhausted. After a few weeks, when it became apparent that
I was completely defenseless against her, she stopped going through the
formality of betting me and would simply take my paycheck and whatever else she
wanted away from
me. After she had finished with me, and I was lying at her feet either
unconscious or sobbing and begging for mercy, she would pick me up, throw
me over her shoulder, carry me upstairs to her bedroom and spend the rest
of the night raping me until I finally fainted from sheer exhaustion. She
would make me spend Saturdays helping her clean her apartment, and Saturday
nights she would take me out, either to dinner or to a movie before taking
me to my apartment, tossing me into my bed and raping me a couple more
times for good measure, leaving me Sunday to recover from my ordeal. To
make matters worse, after several weeks she started taking me out with her
friends, to whom she would brag about how easily she could beat me up and
rape me at will, paying no attention to how embarrassing her boasts were to
me. After a while, her friends made no secret of their contempt for me,
referring to me as "Bonnie's battered boyfriend" or "Bonnie's love toy."
Then I began to notice that every couple of weeks or so she would have added new
weightlifting and bodybuilding equipment to her gameroom (purchased with my
money, undoubtedly!). During this same period, subtle changes in her body began
to become apparent; her chest and shoulders became broader and deeper, her body
harder and her arms and legs bigger and more muscular, until my own arms and
legs seemed like broomsticks by comparison. She even gained a couple of inches
in height so that, now at an even six feet, she towered three inches above me
which, since she always wore 5" heels when we went out together, made me feel
like a small child when I stood next to her. Moreover, as she became bigger and
stronger, overpowering me on the wrestling mat or beating me into submission in
her new boxing ring became such a quick and effortless exercise for her--and
even more painful for me--that she seemed almost bored. Finally she discovered
that she could arouse herself sexually by simply picking me up in her hands and,
holding me at arms' length, tickling, squeezing, bending and twisting my body at
will while I screamed and thrashed about helplessly in her grip. In short, she
had become a complete sadist, and my body had become her defenseless toy, to be
used or abused at her pleasure. Yet, after each of these sessions when she had
me in bed raping me, she gave me such intense ecstacy that I found myself more
and more willing to endure the pain and humiliation which preceded her
lovemaking.
There was one aspect of our relationship, however, that I could not endure. That
was the way she treated me in public. In every way she made it clear to anyone
watching us that, in addition to towering over me, she was the stronger and
dominant partner. She would always walk ahead of me with long strides, forcing
me to trot to keep up with her. She would open doors for me and order for me in
restaurants. On the dancefloor, she would lead, with her right arm firmly around
my waist bending me backward and molding my body to hers as we danced, my eyes
about level with her throat. Worst of all, she thought nothing of fondling me in
public, squeezing my buttocks or tickling the inside of my thighs, or running
her hands up and down my body sensuously to stimulate an erection. Several times
when we were standing at a bar and a stool vacated next to us, she would reach
down, slide one hand under my buttocks and lift me effortlessly off the floor to
place me on the empty stool, much to the amuse- ment of the others in the bar
and to my embarrassment. When I would plead with her to be a little more
discreet, she would laugh and asked me what I thought I could do about it, and I
could only lapse into helpless silence.
Finally my savings gave out and, when my landlord was threatening to evict me, I
tearfully pleaded with Bonnie to let me keep enough money to at least pay my
bills. Instead, she an- nounced that I would move in with her and become her
housemaid and personal, live-in playtoy, and that for the privilege of sharing
her quarters and giving her my paycheck every week, I would be obliged to take
care of her home after work. She paid off the balance of my rent and other
bills, sold my few pieces of furniture and moved me in with her. Although I was
initially concerned that my body could not stand on a daily basis the kind of
treatment to which she had been subjecting me each week, she obviously had the
same concern, for on week nights she contented herself with lifting, tickling
and fondling me, and only occasi- onally making love to me, but always being
careful not to hurt
mf. Only on weekends did she give me the full treatment.
Nevertheless, I still found myself rebelling against her fondling me in public,
and the matter came to a head one night, after I had been living with her about
six weeks, when she was entertaining her friends at her home. I was circulating
through the crowd serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres when I heard one of Bonnie's
girl friends asking her when she was going to marry me. Bonnie threw back her
head and roared with laughter. "Marry him!" she exclaimed. "Why should I marry
him? I own him! He's my little toy. You don't marry a toy; you play with it, and
when you get bored with it you throw it away." Turning to me, where I was
serving drinks several feet away, she said, "Isn't that right, Baby Buns?"
I put the tray down and went over to her. "I didn't hear that," I said.
She chuckled, put one arm around my waist and pulled me against her. "I made up
a little poem about you, Baby Buns. Want to hear it?"
I flushed. "Well, I don't know..."
"Well," she said, "you're going to whether you want to or not. It's called 'My
Little Instant Erection'. Here's how it goes:
When I tickle him he laughs.
When I spank him he cries.
When I squeeze him he screams.
When I fondle him he sighs.
He's my personal playtoy
With an instant erection;
A snap of my fingers
And he's ready for action."
She slid one hand down under my buttocks and lifted me several inches off the
floor to plant a kiss on the end of my nose. "Isn't that right, Baby Buns? Tell
my friend Jeannie what you are to me."
Beet red, I tried to spin away from her. "Bonnie, please..." But her hand slid
around my hips and forced itself between my thighs to firmly encase my crotch
and again lift me an inch or two off the floor. And this time her voice had an
edge to it. "Tell Jeannie what you are to me," she said again. "And don't make
me tell you a third time."
My voice quivering with embarrassment, I said quietly, "I'm your playtoy."
"My LITTLE playtoy. Right?"
I nodded, looking at the floor. "Yes. Your little playtoy."
Bonnie chuckled and turned to face her friend. "See? Even he knows what he is.
And he loves every minute of it. Don't you, Baby Buns."
Redfaced with shame, I nodded humbly.
Bonnie put her hands on her hips, looking down at me. "Well," she said quietly,
"since you're being so agreeable, why don't you get down on your knees and show
the girls the only way I'll let you kiss me."
That was too much. My face burning with embarrassment, I whispered, "Bonnie,
no. Please."
She laughed and, placing one hand on top of my head, forced me to my knees in
front of her. She stepped forward, straddling my body with her powerful legs,
and then pulled my head up under her skirt to mash my face firmly into her
womanhood. "Open your mouth, Baby Buns, and show the girls how you give your
mistress pleasure."
I had no choice. My nose was buried between her legs, and I couldn't breathe. As
I opened my mouth, my head was mashed up even tighter into her hairy bush as she
gave a deep sigh and then released me. "That was pretty good, Baby Buns," she
chuckled. "Any of you girls want to try this with him? If you get his nose up
there just right, it's almost as good as the real thing!"
At that point something in my mind snapped. With a sob of frustration and
humiliation I spun away from her, rose to my feet, whirled completely around and
tried to backhand her across the face. Although caught completely by surprise,
she reacted instantly, catching my wrist in a bonecrushing grip and bending me
backward across her thighs. "Did you see that?" she gasped. "My little toy
actually tried to hit me!" With that, she slid one hand down my back to grasp my
belt firmly and lift me bodily off the floor, holding me at arm's length like a
sack of feathers while I thrashed about helplessly in the grip of her single
hand. Carrying me to a high chair in the center of the room and slamming me face
down across her lap with a force that took my breath away, she quickly pulled my
pants and underwear down to expose my bare buttocks. "Boys and girls," she
announced to her guests, "you are about to witness how a real woman handles a
naughty little man toy who gets out of line." And with that, she proceeded to
spank my bare bottom with the palm of her hand as though I were a child.
I don't know what hurt the most, the stinging power of her big hand as it
descended again and again with sledgehammer force against my bare flesh or the
realization that I, a grown man, was being publicly spanked by this beautiful
Amazon in front of all our friends. Regardless, within moments I was screaming
and sobbing with pain and humiliation as I thrashed helplessly in her steel
grip, unable to even slow the tempo of her blows. How long she continued to
spank me I don't know; all I remember is that toward the end my body was
engulfed in a swirling cauldren of pain and I was sobbing and begging
incoherently for her to stop. Finally she did, lifting me off her lap and
setting me on my feet only to grip my buttocks again with a single hand that
sent fiery fingers of pain shooting through my body and march me, with my feet
barely touching the floor, to a corner of the room and stand me there, facing
the wall with my nose pushed firmly into the corner. "For the rest of this
night, little toy," she told me grimly, "you will stand in this corner with that
blistered rear of yours in plain sight for all the girls to see and play with,
and you will not take your eyes off that wall. Do you under- stand?"
"Y-yes," I sobbed. "Whatever you--you say."
And so for the rest of that evening I stood there, facing the wall, my nose
firmly in the corner, with my pants and drawers down around my ankles and my
blistered rear exposed for all to see and fondle. And they did, much to my
physical and psycholog- ical discomfort. Finally, after several hours, they
left, and Bonnie came over to the corner to get me. Sliding one arm around my
waist, she picked me up, tucked securely under her arm, and carried me to the
center of the room, where she stood me on my feet in front of her, my eyes
barely reaching to her shoulder in the six inch heels she was wearing. Cupping
my chin in her thumb and forefinger, she tilted my head back, forcing me to look
up at her. "Now, little toy man," she said grimly, "you're going to clean up
this mess starting right now. And when you've finished, I'd better be able to
eat off the floor or you'll get another session across my knee that will make
the last one feel like love pats. I'll be waiting for you upstairs when you're
finished, and I don't want to have to wait too long. So hop to it!" As she
turned to go, she hesitated. "And by the way, if you ever try to hit me in
public again, I'll break you in two like the ten cent toy you are. Any
questions?"
N--no," I said, and started cleaning up the mess. When I was finished, I went
upstairs, where she made me sleep at the foot of her bed, under her heel where,
as she had said earlier, I belonged. For the entire next week, as further
punishment for my attempted rebellion, she forced me to satisfy her with oral
sex, permitting me absolutely no sexual pleasure or satisfaction what- soever.
When she finally did relent and take me to bed with her, however, she gave me
orgasm after orgasm at heights I had never before experienced, even at her
hands, and by the time she had finished all I wanted was to please her and to be
taken into her body and become a part of her.
We have lived together ever since. Contrary to what she said that night, she has
never tired of me, at least not yet. And I am content to be the male love toy of
my beautiful, Amazon- ian mistress.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The continue of this history http://free.photoset.biz
Free XXX photos on http://tgp.photoset.biz