Mike became the women’s domestic slave

Martha had experienced a welter of emotions since her
husband had been put in his place. She had been
thrilled to see her huge hunk of a husband fall before
the savage fighting skills of her slender female lover.
Then, as she watched the man she’d married being
reduced from a proud male to a sobbing wreck by the
merciless young girl, she had felt a pang of sympathy
for him.

Now, as he slunk about the house, his house like a
beaten cur, scared of his own shadow, jumping to obey
every command, however outrageous, all she could feel
was contempt for him.

Anne forced him to go naked around the house. She gave
him an impossible list of tasks to complete, then beat
him up if they weren’t done. Her favorite punishment
was to make him stand before her, feet astride, hands
on head. Then she would smile up at the man who towered
over her, tense with terror, then drop him with a knee
to his well-hung balls.

“I can’t understand why he just stands there and takes
it?” asked Martha to her new lover, as the girls lay in
bed together. “Even I would try to fight back! He’s
just a muscle-bound wimp I guess! And you,” she
breathed, snuggling into the girl, “are just a gorgeous
little man-beating bully!”

“True,” said Anne, smugly. “I love having a male slave
and keeping him subjugated. All men should be slaves to
women. That way the world would be a much better place.
For women anyway. And, of course, we could enslave men
if we wanted to. Any woman can beat up a man if she
just takes the trouble to learn how. You’ve been coming
to my classes for six months now. You could beat Mike
up just like I did…if you wanted to!”

“What! Me! Never. He’s twice my size, stronger,
bigger…”

“Slower, more stupid, less skilful, less stamina, less
will power, lower pain threshold, and he has a lovely
big set of delicate balls. Any man, no matter how big,
or how powerful he is,” said Anne, “can always be
brought down by a girl. All she has to do is kick him
in the balls, hard! Fighting isn’t about size and
strength; it’s about skill, determination, speed and
the ability to think coolly under pressure. You could
beat him all right.

“You’re ready! Even a big powerful guy like Mike is no
match for a girl who knows what she’s doing! I think we
ought to go down to the gym tomorrow before class and
get the two of you in the ring. Think what a lovely
feeling it will be when you’ve got him lying at your
feet, crying for mercy, just like he did when I kicked
the shit out him! I’m so sure you’ll win I’m going to
make Mike an offer he can’t refuse so that he’ll do his
best to beat you, but he won’t succeed!”

Having persuaded Martha into combat, Anne summoned Mike
and told him what was going to happen. “And if you win,
I’ll go away,” said Anne, “and you can have your wife
back.” She took hold of him by the balls and looked up
into the man’s face. “But you’re not going to win, are
you Mikey,” she twisted his balls until his face
contorted with pain, “because your wife is a woman, and
a woman who is a better fighter than you!”

…………

The next day, Mike, naked as usual in the presence of
Anne, climbed into the ring with mixed feelings. He
wasn’t sure if he wanted Anne to go. He found her
domination of him sexually arousing. Although assuming
an air of permanent dejection, Mike had never felt so
alive. The thrill of being punished by an attractive
girl outweighed the humiliation he had to endure at her
hands. The tension and fear as she lined him up to kick
his balls, then the erotic ecstasy of looking up from
the ground at the smooth limbs and curvaceous body of
the girl who had floored him, made the blood course
through Mike’s veins in a way it never had before,
until his cock surged in glorious, rampant erection.

Yet, here was a chance to regain his manhood. If he
beat his lovely young wife, then he could call the
shots.

Well, it shouldn’t take long, Mike thought. Martha was
a tiny chit of a girl, 5’5″ and 120lbs. A puff of wind
would blow her over, and she’d always been a gentle,
submissive soul.
Now she stood, in the opposite corner, ready to fight
him, wearing the black cotton briefs he liked most and
a white aertex sports shirt which made her look
positively virginal and extremely vulnerable.

Mike felt his cock begin to rise as he took in the
sight of his sexy little wife in the outfit she knew
turned him on more than any other. He forced himself to
think of the contest and resolved to end this farce
quickly and get his life back.

When Anne gave the signal, he walked purposefully
forward with the intention of grabbing his Elfin-sized
wife in a bear hug and squeezing her into him until she
submitted to his masculine strength.

Martha waited, outwardly coy, yet her stomach churning
with apprehension as the massive figure of her husband
bore down on her. She knew the effect her outfit of
black briefs and white shirt had on him and expected
that he would be reluctant to hurt her. But she
couldn’t believe he’d be so stupid as to leave himself
wide open like this!

As Mike reached out his muscle-laden arms to grab her,
Martha reacted to a situation she’d been in a dozen
times in practice. The girl kicked her husband in his
balls.
With a howl of distress, Mike folded over; clutching
his balls, and sank moaning to the canvas.

Martha was shocked by what she’d done. She knelt beside
her stricken mate, full of concern, and put her hand on
his heaving shoulder. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mike. I didn’t
mean to hurt you, it just happened. Are you all right?”

After the initial shock of the kick to his balls, Mike
recovered rapidly. He was used too much worse treatment
from Anne, so didn’t feel too badly hurt. Now, all he
wanted to do was repay the girl who had hurt him, and
here she was, kneeling beside him, asking if he was all
right!

Mike reached out as though pleading for help. Then, as
the concerned woman went to his aid, he pulled her
frail body into him and wrapped his arms round her
slender waist. “Gottcha!” he cried, triumphantly, as
the girl let out a screech of alarm. “Now give in
before I crush your ribs in!”

For a moment Martha was so furious at her treacherous
husband, that she didn’t appreciate the predicament she
was in. “You rat!” she hissed. “I wanted to help you,
and you pull this dirty… Ow!”

Mike applied some pressure, and brought the girl back
to reality. He had rolled onto his back, and held the
her on top of him, his arms round her body, pinning her
to his barrel like chest so that her head rested under
his chin.

He squeezed her. “You’d better give in, my love,” he
said, not unkindly, “before I break your ribs. I don’t
really want to hurt you, so come on, give!” He applied
more pressure.
Martha’s body went limp. With a grunt of satisfaction,
Mike let go and began to roll her aside. Then she was
on him. Before he knew what was happening, the lithe
young woman thrust herself onto his chest, grabbed the
astonished man by the hair and jabbed her delicate
fingers into his eyes.

There was no mercy now in Martha’s heart. Her husband’s
treacherous attack had awakened all her dormant
aggression. All she wanted to do was hammer the man to
defeat. She balled her tiny fists as Mike screeched in
pain and brought his hands up to his smarting eyes.

Mercilessly, she straddled his chest and smashed
punches into his throat and face, loving the sound of
her female fist smacking into male flesh.

Mike’s arms came up to ward off the girl’s attack and
Martha rolled away and sprang lightly to her feet.

Eyes watering, Mike also tried to get to his feet, but
was much slower than his agile young wife. As he rose
on hands on knees, the pumped up virago drove her foot
into his ribs. Mike’s body jolted with the force of the
blow but he kept coming. The girl caught him again as
he got onto one knee, her foot driving into the side of
his jaw, smashing his large head round to one side,
almost causing him to topple over again. But Mike was
strong. He pushed himself upright into a boxer’s crouch
and tried to focus on the tiny female fury who was
causing all his pain.

“I can be tricky, too, lover boy,” taunted Martha. “Now
you’re going to find out what it’s like to be beaten up
by your wife!” Fists whirling, the deadly young woman
tore into her huge male adversary. This wasn’t her
husband any more. This was an enemy, and enemy to be
destroyed. A man to be conquered by a woman. With
deadly efficiency, she began to take him apart.

Unable to see properly, Mike found it impossible to
counter his wife’s attack. His fists shot out with
awesome power, but they didn’t connect with anything as
the nimble woman ducked and weaved, swayed out of
danger, then struck back with fists like rapiers.

Toe to toe, the fighters waded into each other; two
magnificent specimens of their respective genders. A
huge, powerfully built, broad shouldered male against a
gorgeous, lithe, curvaceous, graceful female. Brute
male strength against female agility. And as they
fought, it was the woman who began to win the battle.

Again and again her punches ripped through the man’s
defenses, while his own attacks floundered on empty
air.

Mike’s arms began to feel like lumps of lead as he
started to tire. Every time his eyes cleared a little
to allow him to focus, a female fist smacked into them,
and everything blurred over once more.

The girls of the self-defense class were arriving now,
chattering and squealing excitedly as they saw what was
going on in the ring. They were just in time to see the
massively muscled, naked male fighter being slowly
driven back before the flashing fists of his diminutive
female opponent.

Anne watched proudly as her pupil and lover maneuvered
her male victim into a corner. Mike was taking hits
from all directions now, and, although none of his
wife’s punches were devastatingly heavy, the cumulative
effect of her blows was considerable. Both the man’s
eyes were puffed up, his top lip was split, a trickle
of blood seeped from his nose and his muscle-slabbed
stomach was a red blotch where her fists had wreaked
their destruction.

Mike was desperate to get away from his wife’s
relentless attack. He couldn’t believe that he was
being thrashed like this by the gentle little girl he’d
married. How could a girl half his size do this to him!
He’d fought dozens of men as big and as strong as
himself in the ring, and never had he taken so much
punishment as he was receiving from the slip of a girl
who was hammering him right now. Ignominiously, he
tried to escape by running along the ropes!

Gleefully, Martha leapt after her fleeing husband and
tripped him before he’d gone three yards. The hulking
great male grabbed at the ropes to stop himself
falling, missed, and crashed to the canvas.

Martha was on him in a flash. Dropping onto his broad,
muscular shoulders, the girl smacked her fist into the
back and side of the man’s neck, looking to strike his
carotid artery to finish him off. Somehow she missed,
then she marveled at her husband’s great strength as he
rose to his knees with her still astride his back,
smashing her fist into his neck as she held onto his
hair with her other hand.

Mike determinedly ignored his wife’s attack as he
caught hold of the top ring rope and began to pull
himself upright. The massive muscles in his thighs
bulged with effort as the powerfully muscled male drove
himself erect, determined to crush the tormenting
female on his back by falling backwards on top of her.

But Martha was having none of it. Realizing she didn’t
yet have enough knowledge to crush his carotid, the
girl leapt from her husband’s back before he could do
her any harm. She also realized that she too was
tiring. The pounding she had inflicted on her husband
had sapped much of her strength.

The man’s massive body had absorbed a terrific amount
of punishment from her fists but he was still upright
and still capable of fighting back. Now she needed to
finish him off. She needed to bring her strong,
smoothly tanned, curvaceous legs into action.

As Mike turned to face her, his guard going up to
protect his head and upper body, the girl drove her
foot with devastating force into his stomach. Muscles,
which had stood out in majestic definition at the start
of the fight, had been pulped by her murderous fists.
They could take no more.

For a moment, it looked as if the huge man was impaled
on the girl’s foot as it sank into his gut. His thick
penis jumped up with the shock of the impact and
slapped against her slender ankle before it flopped
down again to shudder between his mighty thighs. Then,
with a woosh of expelled air, Mike doubled up.

Grabbing his head in both hands as it came down, the
nubile young girl smashed her knee into the bewildered
man’s battered face. The force of the blow jerked
Mike’s body upright for a second. Blood flew from a
broken nose as his huge frame shuddered with the
impact, then he began to collapse.

Like a flash, the graceful woman whirled round, so her
back was towards the stricken male, slid one slim arm
round his neck as his mighty body crumbled, dropped to
one knee, and, using the momentum of his body’s
descent, hauled downwards and sent the massive male
flying in a tangle of nerveless limbs and flopping dick
over her slender shoulder to crash in a heap on the
canvas.

Martha dropped alongside him and, holding her right
wrist with her left hand used her right elbow as a
cudgel to smash down again and again into his jellied
stomach, accompanying each blow with shout of “yes!
yes! yes!” until he stopped moving.

Mike was sprawled on the floor, winded, unconscious,
legs and arms splayed in the shape of a cross as Anne
and her students cheered Martha as she stood over the
helpless male fighter.

Before Mike’s treacherous attack on her, Martha would
have left the matter there. Now she was determined to
destroy him! Her husband lay helpless at her feet. She,
a slip of a girl, had smashed this big, strong,
powerful, massively built male into ignominious defeat.
She was elated, but she wanted more. She wanted to beat
him so convincingly that he’d never challenge her
again. She wanted to destroy his manhood, destroy his
will to fight, humiliate and humble him before her, a
woman!

Sinuously, she sauntered across the ring until she
stood over his naked prostrate body. Her eyes ran over
his magnificent physique, a physique which she’d always
believed to be so superior to her own — that she’d
never considered even to challenge male physical
dominance. Now this magnificent male animal was at her
mercy. She looked down with contempt at his shriveled
penis, knowing how big and bold it had been when she
had played the submissive. Look at it now, she thought
with satisfaction.

The Martha straddled his heaving chest as he began to
recover his senses. Cruelly she picked her spot and
drove her fist into his once handsome, now bloodied
face. She grasped him by the hair, then brought her
clenched fist down like a mallet into her moaning
husband’s mouth. Then she hit him again, and again..

The girls in the audience watched in awe as the sweet
looking little girl, with calm deliberation, smashed
her husband’s face to a battered mess. “You can beg me
to stop, dear husband,” mocked Martha, “and I’ll stop
beating you, otherwise…” Her fist clubbed into an
already broken nose.

“Please stop,” moaned Mike. “I beg you. Don’t hit me
any more.” Tears rolled down his broken face as he
begged his little wife to stop punching him. His brain
was numb with shock. The woman he’d married had smashed
him to defeat in a fight and made him beg her to stop
hitting him.

Now she was standing up. Martha stood over the defeated
body of her husband. She straddled his deep, manly
chest, hands on shapely female hips, her small,
perfectly formed breasts straining against the fabric
of her white halter-top as they swelled with feminine
pride at her momentous victory.

Mike saw her. Through his tears and blood, through
swollen eyes, he looked up at the beautiful vision who
stood in triumph over him and his cock began to swell
in tribute to her beauty and her victory over him.

The young women in the audience laughed and giggled as
they saw Mike’s thick cock swell into a massive
erection as he lay under the feet of his female
conqueror. Someone tittered, “He likes it, hey, Mikey
likes it.” They all laughed at the joke.

Martha realized what was happening and stepped back
from her man’s body.
“Get up!” she ordered.

Slowly, every movement causing him pain, Mike pulled
himself to his feet. “Feet astride, hands on head!”
barked his wife, and Mike knew what was coming.

He wanted to resist, to hurl himself at the little chit
of a girl who was humiliating him in front of all of
these other women, to beat her to the ground with his
mighty fists and re-establish his male supremacy. But
his will had gone. The girl had smashed all the spirit
out of him. A beaten man, he did as the woman
commanded.

Disgust welled up in Martha as she watched her mighty
husband’s willpower crumble before her own. No one
should just stand there and get beaten without putting
up a fight, she thought, especially a man before a
girl. What a despicable coward lies under all that mass
of male muscle. He’s too scared to try to stand up to
me any more!’

Boldly the girl turned her back on the man who’s will
she had destroyed, knowing that he was totally cowed
and would not even think about attacking her now. She
held her arms up in triumph for the girls to cheer – a
victorious woman who had smashed a mighty man to defeat
and subjugated him to her will.

Then, turning back to her trembling male victim, she
looked up into the battered, tear stained face of her
once respected husband, held him by the bulging muscles
of his biceps and disdainfully smashed her knee into
the terrified man’s dangling balls doubling him over in
pain. She watched as his once magnificent erection
shrunk to a shriveled little noodle as he rolled on the
floor in pain.

Triumphantly, Martha climbed from the ring into her
lesbian lover’s welcoming arms, while her husband
continued writhe in agony, crying into the canvas.

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