My Strange Life With Big Shelly

The whole building shook like an 8.5 each time she fell on him.
-What the hell are you trying to prove? I asked. Everyone in the complex is going to be at the door any second, and that’s if the cops don’t get here first.
-Shut up!, she barked. I told you to stay out of my fuckin’ business. Unless you want some of what he’s gettin.’
-Jesus, the fucker’s been dead for at least 15 minutes.
-Yeah, and he’s gonna keep gettin it until some of this bullshit inside his ass hits the muthafuckin’ ceiling.
She slammed down on him again, a massive butt-drop with her full weight. 287 lbs. right on his head. His body kicked like a fucking 12-gauge from the force of the jolt, and then flopped motionless back onto the floor. She got right back up, stood over him laughing, and dropped again, this time right in the solar plexus. Amazingly, a chunk of the projectile body fluids that were rocketing from his mouth every time she dropped on him actually hit the ceiling. A gooey blob of green mixed with blood and some kind of disgusting brown shit. It hit and just hung there. Fucking grotesque. She actually started celebrating.
-Woo-hooo! I knew I could do it! Did you see that? What’s that, about 8 feet? Straight up in the air?
-Yeah, 8 feet. Can we get the hell out of here now?
-Where’s my skirt?
All she was wearing was a thong bottom and a flimsy top with her strappy stripper heels. All those delicious drops on his face and abdomen, and nothin’ but bare, beautiful ass. I actually envied the bastard, dead or no. She poured herself into that tight skirt and we lit out like a Hell Hound was on our trail. And he probably was.

I know what you’re thinking. How did I come to be sitting here watching this gorgeous, thundering hulk of a female wrecking machine beat some guy to a pulpy death? I’d like to say it took a little getting used to, but that wouldn’t quite be accurate. When we first met, I just thought it would be really kinky to watch her perform her act of ultra-domination on helpless men, and I’m sure I would have remained quite happy with that arrangement. In reality, however, things moved quickly beyond that. Far beyond that. Her real name is Cordelia Lemon, but she goes by Big Shelly. I met her at a newsstand, of all places, thumbing through a copy of Big Butt Magazine. All of a sudden, I look next to me, and there she was. All of 5′4″ and packing that awesome load.
-You like fat girls? she asked.
-Well, I-I—‘
-It’s OK, she said, lotsa guys like fat girls. Who do you like in there?
Shit. Now she totally had me on the spot. I couldn’t handle the whole thing, and just mumbled something incoherent, put the magazine back on the rack, and tried to move on.
-Hey! I’m talkin’ to you! She barked.
If it were anybody else, I would have never turned around, but my god, the girl was so fucking hot. A gorgeous, fat, black bitch with enough horsepower to reach Alpha Centauri by nightfall. I was fucking scared shitless of her, and she knew it. Still, I turned around to face her.
-I’m sorry, I said, I’m just sort of in a hurry. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I’m just not comfortable with—
-Hey, man, don’t worry about it. Relax, OK? It’s just that fat chicks like to know what turns a guy on about fat chicks.
That made sense. Still, I felt so weird even thinking about openly discussing something that, in my world, was more or less a secret obsession. I loved big girls, but only a couple of my friends knew about it, and even they certainly had no idea of the limits to which my obsession had risen. We talked for a few minutes and the whole time she was flashing that ungodly body at me; legs, cleavage, and that adorable face. She was far more than I could deal with. She asked me right then if I had ever actually experienced a big woman. I had dated a couple of girls that were on the large side, so I answered ‘yes.’
-Did they look like me? she asked, coy and smoldering.
-No, I admitted, they definitely didn’t.
-Were they dominant?
-Dominant?
-Yeah. Did they beat your ass into submission?
-No, they didn’t.
-I think you better come with me. I’m going to complete you.
The famous Jerry Maguire line, and I had no doubt that she could make it happen. Since I was helpless to resist her anyway, I dropped the idea of reasoning with myself.
-Anything you say, I shrugged.
For better or worse, my day now belonged to this magnificent young woman with the Mack truck body and the smokin’ hot attitude.

I took her to my apartment and found that she came exactly as advertised. She made minced meat out of me with a precision and ease that would have made Wonder Woman bow in reverence. Her physical strength, her sexual power, her banter, the way she ordered me around at will, slapping me, punching me, kicking me with her monolithic thighs and knees; my God, the whole thing was all so sexy and so frightening and so painful; an experience the likes of which I could have never imagined in my wildest fantasies. When she had finished beating me senseless and had cum all over my face, she looked down at me as I lay moaning on the floor.
-All right, muthafucka, she said, time to collect your reward. Look up here at my legs and let me see you explode, you pussy-ass bitch!
She stood straight over my head and as I looked upward between those massive, exquisite thighs I had only to put my fingers to my throbbing cock to blow huge gobs of cum all over the carpet. Big Shelly looked down at me, laughing, and seemed to be strangely pleased with me.
-You know what? You handle yourself pretty good, she said. I never give compliments to pigs, but you were different. You actually put yourself into it. Nothing you can do about the fact that it’s a mismatch. But your obedience was pretty good, and you can take some fuckin’ punishment, I’ll tell you that much. You actually got off on gettin’ your little funky ass kicked, didn’t you, bitch-boy?
Well, ‘got off’ was a strong phrase, as I wiped the blood from my lip and clenched at what was surely a cracked rib. But weathering the onslaught of her incomparable body, loosed upon me in the execution of her wrath, had indeed produced in me the most electric orgasm I had ever experienced.
-Maybe…a little, I said.
I rolled over on my side, still groaning away, astral projecting, unable to get up.
-Hey, she said, completely animated, how would you like to come with me tonight? I want to show you something that I think you’ll get a kick out of.
Is this the way it works? I thought. Kick the living shit out of me, and then we become friends? Whatever. If it kept me ogling those monster legs for the rest of the night, I didn’t much care what she had in mind. I was in.

I picked her up about 7:30. She was dressed to kill in a skintight black mini-dress and 5” acrylic high heels. I could scarcely keep my eyes on the road as I obsessively stared at her awesome crossed legs, so close now, in the seat next to me. Hotter than a fucking pistol.
-So, where are we going? I asked.
-You’re one lucky muthafucka, she said. Light me.
I flicked my lighter and drank in her impossibly regal, sensual bearing as she took a deep drag off her cigarette.
-You’re gonna get to watch Big Shelly in action.
-In action?
-That’s right. You’re getting the rare privilege of watching while I put a certain wimpy bi-atch out of commission for a few days. I’ve decided a little voyeurism is just what the doctor ordered for you.
-You’re kidding, I said.
-Nope. Hey look, punishing wimps is what I do. I want you to be a part of it. Besides, I know how much it’ll turn you on. This guy’s a real candy-ass.
I’d only known her a few hours, but I already knew there was no point in contesting her will. I was going to watch Big Shelly in action, and that’s all there was to it.

She directed us to an office at the rear of a small industrial complex. It was a little two-man operation, a Graphic Design company, run by a couple of young guys trying to get established in corporate America. Only one was still there when we arrived. He was hunched in front of a computer when we walked in, and I could tell right away that he was confused by my presence.
-Yo, Tony, Shelly said, Whassup? All work and no play again?
-Who’s he?
-This is my new friend, Jack. I call him Jack-Off. He’s going to watch tonight.
-What? Watch? What are you talking about?
-Just what I said. He’s going to watch, and it’s going to be a turn-on for both of us.
Tony retained a look of skepticism, but apparently knew what I knew, which was that we were doing what Shelly said. End of discussion. She moved around behind him at his workstation and taunted him with some heavy breathing and delicious little giggles into his ear. Within seconds he was up, locking the front door, hanging the ‘Closed’ sign, and leading us into the small break room in the back of the office.

-Sit down over there, Shelly said to me, pointing towards a folding chair.
I sat down and without further ado she began working her spell. She snapped her fingers at Tony, which was his signal to strip. He was out of his clothes in a flash, still obviously nervous at my presence. She snapped her fingers again and he dropped obediently to his knees. A third snap and he began crawling around her slowly, sniffing at the flesh of her divine legs in dog-like fashion.
-That’s a good dog, Shelly said. But I don’t want to see any signs of arousal, so watch it!
Tony was pretty strong, I thought. He actually survived sniffing around her ass and around to the sides of her mammoth legs. But when he got to the front, it was too much. He stared at the sweeping, luxurious expanse of her upper thighs, that glorious cunt so close, just beneath the hem of her dress and he started to shake. Laughing, she reached down and hoisted the skirt up above her hips revealing her entire unfathomable lower body clad in nothing but a skimpy thong bottom.
-Closer, she whispered.
Tony moved forward and in such close proximity to her devastating columns of leg, he broke into a fit of quiet whimpering.
-You know, Tony, she said patiently, making noise is against the rules, and crying—even whimpering—is definitely against the rules. You know what has to be done, don’t you?

As she said that, the poor bastard broke into tears, sobbing inconsolably. Shelly left him there on his knees, crying while she turned away to slip her dress up over her head and off. Her very movements made Tony whimper more intensely. At one point he turned to look at me, his expression one of hope that maybe I could help. I wasn’t about to move. She stalked arrogantly back over in front of him, her high heels clacking deliciously on the linoleum floor. She hit a few hot poses, showing off her legs and ass to him and really lording her absolute power over him with her wicked, sexy expressions. Then she turned her ass right up into his face and told him he could kiss it if he could be absolutely silent for three whole seconds.
-Are you going to be a good boy?
Tony nodded and fought back the tears.
-Give us the count, Jack-Off, she said.
I began. One…two… Before I could get to three she had shifted her body weight ever so slightly, causing her ass and thighs to jiggle delightfully within just a few inches of Tony’s face. He lost it. He burst into tears, which I found embarrassing on the one hand, and ridiculously hot on the other. Tony’s cock was standing in rapt attention now, and I had to admit that my own was pressing hard against the confining bonds of my blue jeans. What happened next was so bizarre and horrifying that I felt as if I had fallen into an impossible nightmare, a nightmare from which I could never awaken.

Big Shelly became infuriated with Tony’s insolence.
-Bastard! She screamed as she turned on him.
She snatched him by his hair and slammed a massive knee bash straight into his face. It was as if a fucking train had hit him. He flew backwards, head over heels, and then grabbed his head, writhing in pain.
-Get up, she commanded, standing over him.
He struggled mightily to oblige her, and though he probably could have made it to his feet, it was going too slowly for Big Shelly.
-All right then, she said, if you won’t get up, then stay the fuck down!
With that she lifted him up just high enough to launch another big thigh, this one into his mid-section. Tony cried out once, then made a kind of pathetic little squeaking noise. I had never heard such a sound as a response to pain before, but it was definitely a sign that something REALLY hurt. He collapsed to the floor, gyrating strangely and I realized she must have knocked the wind out of him. Sure enough, he began gasping helplessly for air.
-Get your ass up! Shelly screamed, hovering above him triumphantly.
To his credit, Tony really tried, but it was no use.
-Your last chance, dip-shit, she said.
His hands pushed helplessly against the floor, but could barely raise him up a few more inches.
-Fine, Shelly said, it’s your funeral.
Who knew those words would turn out to be so prophetic? She lifted him again and fired another knee into the same spot just below the chest. Again, Tony squeaked, only louder this time, and as he collapsed forward, trembling violently, he threw up in front of himself just as he hit the floor. I looked on, utterly stunned by what I was seeing. With just a three precision blows, Tony boy was just about through. But things were only beginning to get ugly.

Tony was writhing wildly now, squirming violently in his own vomit.
-What the hell is this? Shelly barked. Is that what you think, that you can just fucking puke right in front of me? Did I tell you you could puke? Did I, you fucking pig?
Tony was helpless. I doubt if he even understood the question, but even if he did, there was no chance of his answering her. His face was turning blue from lack of air and that second huge bomb of a knee blast made sure he wasn’t breathing in more any time soon.
-Fine, Shelly said, if you’re going to be an obstinate fuck, I’ll be happy to treat you like one. Now you clean this shit up, muthafucka!
She shoved his face right down into the vomit, screaming at him to eat it. Because he was still in seizure from trying to get his breath back, he couldn’t even put his tongue to the floor. Shelly continued to rub his face around in it, holding him by the hair, intermittently pausing to stomp down on the back of his head with one of her super-sharp stiletto heels. Then she jerked him back up by his hair and glared down into his face.
-Who’s your Mama, bitch? she taunted. You better say it, chump-stain! Say it, or I’m really gonna fuck your ass up!
He tried, but all that was coming out of his mouth was the next painful, pathetic gasp for air.

With that, Shelly really opened up on him. Severe, hard punches, endless pounding from her massive legs, the most ungodly verbal abuse and one powerful slap across the face after another. I could see that he was in bad shape. His face was a wash of blood, and with her continued kicks to his body, he had never recovered his breathing. Beneath the blood, I could see that his face had turned the color of eggplant. It was at that point I began to fear that she might actually be killing him. Finally, Tony went down like a sack of fertilizer from a knee bash to the temple. He twitched a little, and then lay there motionless as Shelly yelled at him again and again to get up. She shook him, kicked him, dragged him, spit in his face, and finally threw a planter of water at him. Nothing. She looked over at me, a devilish look in her eyes.
-He couldn’t be dead, could he? she asked.
-Of course, he could! I said. What’s wrong with you? We’ve got to get out of here.
-Yeah, I guess you’re right, she said.
She looked down at his broken body, then reached down and turned him face up. Smiling maniacally, she took a position over him and performed a giant Dumbo-Drop with her full body weight onto his head. And that was when this weird thing snapped in Big Shelly’s head. I could see it in her face as she rolled off of him, scarcely able to contain herself as she scurried to do it again. Bam! Another, again on his head.
-What are you doing? I screamed. We’ve gotta get outta here!
She wouldn’t stop. It was as if she had been possessed. Booom! She sprung up again and thrust herself backwards, plummeting downward like a meteor. This time there was a strange noise. As Shelly got up, I could see right away that Tony’s head had been crushed; I mean literally crushed. She had actually fractured the dude’s skull. I couldn’t believe my terrified eyes. His dead eyes bulged from their sockets, staring at me accusingly, and blood gushed from his mouth and nose in a full-on crimson river. I’ll never forget the look on Shelly’s face as she stood over him like some beautiful, massive vulture; her eyes glistening with the excitement of a new found discovery, the erotic rush that came with the kill.

Somehow I got her to leave that night before disaster struck. As it turned out, Tony’s partner came back to the office just a little while after we left and discovered the body. It was quite a story on the evening news. From that moment on, I’ve been Big Shelly’s slave and accomplice. I can’t believe how many guys she finds that are into our whole trip. Big Women, Big Beatings, and Voyeurism. It’s a magical combination. And though she always carries things too far and brings us far too close to getting caught, I have to admit that life with her is beyond exciting; It’s a fucking thrill ride I never want to come down from. At first I tried to tame things a little bit, suggesting that she stay more focused on domination than cold-blooded murder. But, what can I say? The bitch loves to kill, and I’m damn sure not going anywhere without her. And when she wraps those python legs around some poor mullet’s head and pops it like a fucking cork, I still get wetter than ever. A lot of times she lets me jerk off while she’s beating some guy’s ass. Well, actually that’s reserved for days when I’ve been extremely good to her, but the longer I’m with her the more I’m learning how to do that. My life is all about pleasing Big Shelly, and about being as creative as possible about getting rid of human remains. It’s a work in progress, but I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I’m the only man in the world Shelly would rather have alive than dead. And that’s saying something.

Epilogue:
As I drove us away from the apartment building, trying to go fast enough to escape, but slow enough not to be conspicuous, I could scarcely contain my frustration. This was the first body we’d left behind since that very first time with Tony. Since then, we always disposed of the bodies ourselves. It was the best way to be sure we’d covered our tracks.
-Well, we’ve done it now, I said. The guy’s mangled body still on the floor of his apartment so we can’t get rid of it, and on top of that, God knows how many people probably saw us leaving. Why do you always have to cut it so close? Baby, we’re gonna end up in prison for the rest of our lives if you don’t start learning to quit while we’re ahead.
-You know, I’ve been thinking, she said calmly. From now on, I don’t want to have to sweat this shit any more. So I’m gonna have you get rid of the bodies on your own. That way, I won’t be connected with this whole ‘getaway’ thing. It always ruins my high. And if you feel I’m not giving you enough time for that, then we’ll bring separate cars.
-Excuse me?
-Excuse you? How ‘bout if I just add you to the fucking list of corpses, you butt-face, shit-brain muthafucka?
-I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, how the fuck am I going to get rid of ‘em by myself? And besides, you promised that this poor schlep was the last one.
-Heh Heh. Yeah, I guess I did, didn’t I? Well, who knows? Maybe he will be, after all. Maybe the urge’ll go away.
Yeah, I thought, and maybe no swallows in Capistrano this year.

—————————-

(Many thanks to the Ultra-Hot Babydoll for the visual aids in this post. Luv ya, girl!)

South Of The Border

I met her in a sleazy bar in Juarez. God, the place was a dive, one of those places you only go when you’re on a major drunk-out with your posse and aren’t going to feel satisfied until you’ve hit all the seedy little back street joints that promise the hottest action and the greatest danger. The place reminded me of a 30-year old grindhouse, with the stained red velvet carpet and the dimly lit colonial style lamps above the tables along the walls. You had to be drunk to go inside in the first place, because you knew it was going to be bad energy on top of bad energy. Bolstered by excess of alcohol, you walk on in like you’re Wilder and Pryor. Mostly you’re doing it to check out the whores. Plus you know that a couple more drinks and you’re not going to get it up anyway, so there was a feeling of ‘now or never’ as we came through the door.

We caught a couple of gringo slurs from a low life or two, but on the whole it wasn’t nearly as rank as I had expected. And we had scarcely scanned the room when I saw her. My boys knew it right away too, because I’m into much bigger chicks than they are. Not that they don’t like some bodacious booty, but me, I like ‘em packing some serious meat. She honed in on me right away too, smelling perhaps a decent little payday from the way my eyes must have lit up. I ordered us drinks and spoke to her in my best broken Spanish. She got a kick out of my efforts and for my part, I found her throaty and quite genuine laughter to be an instant turn-on. She wasn’t huge, but she was definitely a plumper, probably 5’ 7” and around 195 lbs. She wore an ungodly short, tight black dress and a pair of skyscraper acrylic slip-on heels. Divine. Her legs were thick, shapely, and powerful, her ass big and bad, and her torso was solid but soft. Best of all, she smelled like a million bucks. Her perfume and whatever botanical extracted whatever-it-was flowed into my brain like some fantasy garden bouquet in the midst of this god-forsaken little cross-town landfill.

Her name was Soledad, which I always thought was a beautiful name, but took too much effort to pronounce properly. I asked her if I could just call her ‘Sol’ for short. She said that ‘Sol,’ because it was Spanish for ‘sun,’ wasn’t appropriate. She was dark, she said.
-My hair is dark, my clothes are dark, I work nights, and my life is dark. My name should belong to the night. Instead of ‘Sol,’ call me ‘Luna,’ instead. For ‘Moon.’
-Ah, I protested, but in English, ‘Sol’ is spelled S-O-U-L and would translate back into Spanish as ‘Alma.’ Wouldn’t you rather be Alma than Luna?
She eyed me curiously, with a sudden change of expression that was as sinister as it was breathtakingly beautiful.
-OK, muchacho. You can call me ‘Alma,’ but it will cost you an extra $20.00.
-That’s pretty steep, I said. It’s only a name.
She beamed celestially.
-You don’t think I’m worth it?
I looked her over again as she raised one leg up to a 45 degree angle, planting her foot against the bar behind her. Her expression was pure predator.
-Yeah, I said, I’ll bet you are worth it. But I’m just a poor American boy who believes in watching his step. So, let’s stick with Luna. And that was it. It was Luna from then on.

My bros were all over the place by now. One was already gone with one of the girls, and the other two were working swiftly in that direction. I was having a perfectly wonderful time just hanging out and drinking, but of course, if Luna was going to hang out it was going to be with her meter running. Which was fine with me, as I just happen to be the type that finds all this sexual innuendo and flirtation to be a big part of the overall experience. I told Luna to relax.
-You’re on the clock, I said. Now, let’s have another drink.
We had bourbon and beer together, and I really liked the way the girl drank. Real classy, with the cigarettes and the whole glamorous vibe. On the retro side, to be sure. We smoked and drank and talked for maybe another hour before she really started getting to me. Sensing my mood perfectly, she took my hand and led me up the dilapidated stairway.

-We get the good room tonight, she said, opening the door.
Actually, it wasn’t so bad. Smelly, for sure, with the stale residue of its own history. Who could number the legions of anxious, sex-starved bodies, the sheer tonnage of perspiring flesh that might have found refuge and solace in this room? Food for thought. There was a double bed, nicely made with a floral duvet, a chest of drawers, a small table and two small upholstered chairs. A carved,
hand-painted crucifix hung above the head of the bed.
-He ever let you down? I asked, checking out the crucifix.
-Shit, Muchacho, she laughed, I don’t need his ass to take care of me. I take care of myself.
She took a spray-bottle of perfume from the chest of drawers, and sprayed it a few times around the room. Then, catlike, she shed her skirt in seconds and stood before me in a thong pantie bottom, her tight black top, and those powerhouse high heels.
-Sit down, she said, pointing to one of the chairs, and tell Mama what you want.
I couldn’t believe her body. I mean, I thought I had pretty much foreseen how she’d look naked, seeing as that black skirt was already obscenely short, but I was totally unprepared for how fabulous she looked once she removed it. Her big, bouncing ass was phenomenal! And it segued into her plump, delicious legs so seamlessly and perfectly…God, she was a work of art. I recoiled slightly, in shock at how pudgy and hot this woman really was. In fact, I was rendered nearly speechless.

-You like the big girls, no? she laughed. Mmmm, we’re going to get along just fine. So, how much you want to spend?
The concept of money had just lost all meaning for me. All I could think about was how unreal that body was.
-I don’t know, I stammered. How about I pay as we go?
-No chance. You already got an hour downstairs. You owe me $20.00 for that. So, give me $40.00 to keep going or the $20.00 and we call it a night.
I reached into my pocket, my eyes fixed on Luna’s legs and ass. Then, forcing my gaze away from her, I flipped through my small bankroll, now crippled from the evening’s expenditures. There were six 20’s and a few smaller bills, maybe $130-$140 total. I peeled off three 20’s and handed them to her.
-Here’s $60.00. What’ll that get me?
Luna took the money and walked over to the chest of drawers, her ungodly body swirling and twisting indescribably as she moved. She placed the money in a jewelry box and walked back toward me. Her movements alone were worth more than I’d paid. I was getting seriously hard just looking at her, and inwardly my desire for her was over-the-edge. She stood directly in front of me, flashing those amazing, fat thighs in my face.
-I know what you want, little man, she said. You don’t have to say anything more. You just let Mama do her thing.

With those fateful words, everything changed. Luna changed, I changed, my life changed. She changed the way the people change in horror movies, instantly switching from sympathetic to terrifying. She had certainly exuded nothing if not confidence thus far in our encounter, but that confidence morphed now into a completely alternate and distinct personality, something wicked, dark, satanic. Her entire demeanor took on the characteristics of a witch; an imperious, callous, exceedingly gorgeous witch. She sat down slowly, sensually in the chair and crossed her big legs with consummate artistry. My heart skipped and my cock launched into major-league throb-mode. She stared me down and dangled that acrylic heel seductively off of her deliciously curled toes.
-Look at my legs, she said sternly.
I already was, in a big way. A cold shiver shot through my entire being, causing me to shudder noticeably. Luna whispered a little throaty, knowing laugh.
-Look at them closer, puerco, she said. Get down on your hands and knees and crawl over here like the pig that you are.
I felt so strange; so excited and yet anxious and agitated at the same time. I know that sounds like a normal feeling under the circumstances, but the anxiety and agitation were different. They didn’t feel like the normal kind of jitters one often gets in the throes of intense sexual stimulation. It was dark, as if something terrible was in the air. I crawled obediently to her and stared at the killing flesh of those legs, which began to bring tears to my eyes. I had never been so completely possessed, so quickly, by a woman’s body in my life.
-Keep looking, she said, and keep your mouth shut. I don’t want to hear a fucking peep out of you. You got that?
I nodded. Luna began to shift slightly in her seat, adjusting those fine legs a little this way, and a little that way, and with each slight movement as I sat directly next to her, it was all I could do to keep from howling like a rabid dog. God, she was Hot! I immediately felt sure there was no way I was going to remain mute in the face of her spectacular leg show.

Then, with her legs still crossed so fucking alluringly, she reached down with her elegant, long-nailed finger and pointed to a spot just above the knee on the supporting leg.
-Closer, pig! She demanded softly. Put your nose up to me, but don’t touch, and don’t smell. Just look.
I moved my nose to within an inch of her glorious leg. It was as if the whole world disappeared. There was only this one, incomparably delicious offering of divine, feminine flesh and me. That was the world, the universe. I couldn’t believe what a supreme test of will it was for me to simply remain still there, focused on her leg without breaking. Actually, it was sheer torture. Again she would move slightly and the impossible rippling of her body fat would bring me to the very edge of collapsing into hysteria. Next she pointed to a spot higher up, in the middle area of her inner thigh where it started to flare toward its largest expanse.
-Here, she said softly. Just look.
I followed her finger with my nose. At this stopping point her thigh-flesh was so thick and luscious that she had barely pulled her finger away when I started to tremble badly, my mind now at war with itself fighting every impulse toward the natural reaction of screaming or crying, but also all the more turned on by this immaculate and uncompromising control Luna had so instantaneously manifested over me. Glaring at that exquisite body fat—and here the crossing leg also met with the supporting leg so that her other thigh came slightly into view to threaten me, as it were, from the side—I was so helpless, so subjugated, so nearly mad with desire that I could literally feel the sound moving from my chest toward my vocal chords. And again, it wasn’t just the visual aspect that was so overpowering. It was also the intoxicating fragrance of her skin, her delicate perfume, and, this close now, the faint mix of her cunt’s heated aroma, all of which blended into the most heavenly bouquet I had ever experienced. I was inflamed with desire.
-Be still, she said calmly as she watched me starting to shake even harder.
Her voice was so soft now, so calculating, so authoritative. I continued to shake, calling upon every ounce of reserve to keep from crying. As if sensing my breaking point, she shifted ever so slightly in the chair, and set a wave of little flesh quivers in motion. That was it.

I held back the vast majority of the outburst that was pressing up from my throat toward my gaping mouth, but somehow a whimper managed to get through. It was only a slight one, but Luna heard it.
-Tsk, tsk, tsk. She clicked her tongue and shook her head. That’s a shame. Back up, puerco. But stay down on your hands and knees.
She stood up from the chair and began to walk around the room, snaking sensually to and fro like a giant panther circling its prey. Watching her surreal body in motion was killing me She lit a cigarette and opened the top drawer of the bureau, pulling out a bottle of bourbon. . Then she looked down at me, steely-eyed, and told me to take off my clothes.
-Don’t get up, she said. Just take them off right there. And keep looking at me while you do it.
I remember thinking how evil her beautiful eyes looked at that moment. She took a couple of big hits from the bottle, and a deep, sexy drag off the cigarette. The way she hit a cigarette was to die for. I watched her, intoxicated, as she shifted her divine weight back and forth from one gorgeous leg to another, taking a couple more shots from the bottle, and finishing her cigarette. By then, I sat before her completely nude, trembling worse than ever, my cock overflowing with streams of pre-cum. Luna came closer.

-What’s that? She smiled.
Now keep in mind that at this point I am in an uncharted interior state. Yes, I’ve always loved big, dominant girls, and yes, I’ve played the submissive’s role many times. But I had never had this kind of anxious, unsettling feeling—this primal FEAR—that a woman was literally taking possession of my soul. That’s what I was feeling now, along with more than a little embarrassment, as she asked the question. Finding some small stash of most welcome inner reserve, I answered,
-It’s for you.
-Ah, for me. Mmmm. And what if I don’t want it?
She eyeballed me, serious as cancer, and I was at a total loss. I just sort of shook my head in confusion.
-There will be plenty more of that, she said. You can clean it all up later. Right now, I want you to take your pants, reach into your pocket and give me the rest of your money.
-My money? I thought—“
-I know. Give it to me right now.
Her voice remained so low-key and soft. She knew I was completely under her spell and she was oh-so-right. Knowing that I was being completely irrational, and having no idea what to even really expect from this enigmatic powerhouse of a woman, I reached for my pants, took the last of my cash out of the pocket, and handed it up toward her.
-In your mouth, she said, like a cash machine.
I placed the bills longways in my mouth and she swung her mighty hips around toward my face lifting up the side string of her thong bottom. I placed the money underneath it, stripper-style, and she let the string snap back. Being this close to her beautiful ass caused me to whine slightly again. She made those same clicking noises with her tongue.
-Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Smiling to herself, she then turned her back to me, flaunting her incomparable ass in my face. She took a couple of wicked steps in place to make everything shake. Un-handle-able.
-Careful, she said, you’re a man under orders.
I summoned every last fiber of willpower that was in me, but she was much too much. That ass and those remarkable, thick thighs broke me. I didn’t cry out, but rather began sobbing, quietly at first, and then progressively louder. Luna began to laugh softly, strangely, almost demonically.

She continued to taunt me for a while longer, jiggling her ass and legs, and causing my crying to erupt into serious hysteria. I had never even touched her, and I was reduced to a lump of mush; mind gone, no real clue what was happening to me as I became one with the bizarre moment.
-Smell my ass, she said. As close as you can, but don’t touch.
I placed my nose between her powerful ass cheeks and sniffed. Her full-throttle attack. The end for me. Her fat body, the mind-fucker scents of her ass and pussy, and that soft fragrance of her flesh itself combined to trigger a massive psychic explosion. Reality gave way altogether and I plunged down into some unknown realm where desire and terror merge into madness. Unable any longer to sit up, I slumped over on my side in the throes of some kind of seizure brought on by the sensory overload. It was as if my whole soul was some sort of dreamscape volcano, every emotion, both known and unknown, reaching unimaginable, climactic temperatures and raging with infinite force toward the surface. It began to feel like some strange form of orgasm, except that the explosion was inward rather than outward. (Actually I discovered later that it had been outward as well. Luna made me lap it all up with my tongue and swallow it.)

As I lay there convulsing, my perceptions were undergoing radical shifts. I had the realization that wherever I was going it was going to be good once I got past the terrifying moments of transition that would take me there. I saw Luna’s body standing over me in judgment, gorgeous, powerful, severe—like some sort of demoness; but all around her I beheld what appeared to be the universal energy itself, showing itself as it really was through this radical shift. Indeed, I saw the whole universe shimmering with unimaginably bright waves of different energies, all complementing each other, and all manifested in extraordinary combinations of intense, blinding color. Maybe this is death, I thought. If it is, I would recommend it to anyone. Of course, it wasn’t the experience of death, per se, but in a way it was because it was the experience of eternity, of absolute transcendence. It was an awakening, an enlightenment, a transformational mystical experience that changed my life profoundly. Through Luna, the magical, mystical, $20.00 hooker in Juarez.

When I returned to normal ‘reality,’ Luna was sitting there, still wearing her underwear and her high heels, her gorgeous legs crossed seductively.
-Well, Muchacho, you got what you came for. And you got it for cheap.
She was fanning through the bills I had given her.
-All you got here is $135.00. It doesn’t seem right. I change your whole life, and all I get is $135.00.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know what had actually happened without having some time to reflect.
-You’re unbelievable, I said. What did you do to me?
-You know what I did. It’s what you’ve been waiting for your whole life. It’s just sex. The best sex you ever had, that’s all.
-But we didn’t have sex, did we?
Call it what you want. You went places, saw things.
-But you never touched me.
-The one thing you should know now is that sex doesn’t necessarily mean intercourse. It’s personal. Look, stop trying to analyze it. It was nothing. All I did was to open the doors. You’re the one who had to walk through. Still, a man will usually go his whole life without having this door opened for him. The question is, how much is it really worth to you?
I was so out of my element, which was strange because she was exactly right. This WAS what I had been waiting for my whole life, and yet it all seemed so unfamiliar, like it wasn’t supposed to happen here, in this way.
-I don’t know, I said. If I had more, I would give it to you.
-How much more?
-I don’t know. I’m not sure what you’re driving at.
That sinister look returned to her eyes. She kicked her crossed leg up and down, smiling coyly. That dark, sinister expression rose up in her face again.
-I’ve given you everything, she said. Don’t you think that ‘turnabout is fair play?’
-Sure, but what more can I give you?
Luna broke out into a frightening, mephistophelean burst of laughter.
-Can’t you guess, you fucking simpleton? You’ll give me your life, and by extension, your soul!
-My life??
-Of course. Did you really think you’d be going home with your friends this morning? Guess again, Muchacho. You’re mine, Ese. You’re staying here…Forever!

Well, I don’t know how long I’ve been here in Juarez now, living in an upstairs supply room, and devoting myself to being Luna’s dutiful slave, but I can’t say I regret it. Luna is good to me. When she has finished fucking her Johns, she almost always flashes her ass and legs for me, which sends me into frenzied states of sexual ecstasy, the likes of which I have never known before. Her magic never wanes. I take care of everything for her. I wash, clean, cook, and run errands. I bathe her, I keep whatever room she’s turning tricks in immaculate, and I never fail to pray to her incomprehensible ass, every time she presents it to me. In all the time I’ve been here, she’s never let me touch her. But I keep hoping that someday, when I’ve proved myself, proved that I’m an infallible servant and perfect guardian of her affairs, that she may allow me to kiss her ass or her thighs. I never thought I’d spend my whole life as the servant of a call girl in Juarez, Mexico. But then again, I never thought that such a girl would show me God.

Birthday Girl

I knew she was annoyed with me. The only question was ‘how annoyed?’ I tried to put it out of my mind, but it’s not so easy. Such questions always cause massive lesions in the flow of my functionality. But then, so does everything else where she is concerned. All it takes is one look at those exquisite, massive legs of hers and I can actually become dumbstruck, unable to focus properly on attending to her needs of the moment; Just the sort of thing that makes her annoyed. Her size and power are enough of a worry, but her violent temper is what really strikes the fear into me. When you plant an intense desire to punish and maim into the soul of a woman that stands 5’3” and weighs over 300 lbs., let me tell you, you’ve got yourself one hell of a killing machine. Oh yeah, and mix that all in with the fact that she’s easily the sexiest woman you’ve ever seen, and you can well imagine that your troubles are pretty much of an on-going variety. To fall in love with such an exquisite and rare creature has been my dubious fate.

Anyway, as I was saying, she was definitely annoyed with me, and there was no doubt in my mind that a severe reprimand was coming my way when we got home. I had taken her to a concert to see John Mayer and Melissa Ethridge, her two favorite performers of all time. If it seems a bit of a lucky coincidence that her two favorites would appear on the same bill, well, it is. I’m the one who arranged and promoted the concert. I’m Kip Lansford, and I’m a big-shot. I’m president of Cameo Productions in Los Angeles, and we just happen to be the hottest concert promoters in the biz. But this isn’t the point. The point is that I put this concert together just for her. Her name is Asal, and I did it as a present for her on her 24rd birthday. Young and fine; the impossible combination. I attended to every detail of her special night personally, to be sure that nothing was left to chance. The most expensive luxury box in the concert hall, complete with the finest champagne and caviar, 5-star dining, complete security clearance to go backstage or wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted. The entire concert hall was at her disposal for the duration of the show.

The performances were exceptional. Asal seemed thrilled with everything. Everything but me, that is. She spent the better part of the evening wandering the concert hall, flirting with boys, talking to her home girls that she had invited. She would reconnect with me off and on for a drink, or an introduction or two to people she wanted to meet, but the whole time she was ice-cold where I was concerned. She knew that attitude caused me to feel unsettled and acutely anxious and she did it just to make sure I was uncomfortable. That was normal for her. It was simply the way she expressed her dominance over me, like she was constantly angry with me. Although I certainly hated the feeling, I had at least begun to get used to it on some level. But as we rode home in the limo, I knew there was something more on her mind. I tried to talk to her about it, but she refused.
-Shut up, she snapped. We’ll discuss this when we get home.

My stomach was in knots as I opened the front door for her. She walked ahead of me, so cocky and so hot; her huge, glorious body exploding from her skin-tight mini-dress, teetering in her elegant 5-inch heels.
-Honey, I hope your—“
-I told you to shut up! she said as she turned on me, slapping me violently across the face. This goddamned insolence of yours is really starting to get on my nerves! Now make me a fucking drink and meet me in the bedroom. And hurry your bitch-ass up.

Now I know you’re probably wondering why someone as wealthy as I am, only 35 years old and with my considerable influence in the entertainment business, with this beautiful home in the Hollywood Hills, with all I’ve got going for me, why would I take this kind of shit from a fat, young nobody of a girl? I can already hear you saying it. ‘Just tell her to hit the bricks, dude! You can have anybody you want.’
Well, that’s exactly the point. I want Asal. Honestly, and I’m not bragging, just telling the truth, I’ve had my share of girls. Hot girls. But no one has ever made me feel like Asal. She’s too much. Her big, beautiful legs and incomprehensible ass drive me to madness. Just to touch her flesh, omigod. She lets me sometimes. She has let me kiss her thighs. She has smothered me, sitting on my face with all 300-plus lbs. of her forced down on that spectacular ass and onto my helpless face. When I see her, I tremble with excitement. When I think of her, I shiver with waves of ecstasy. No, no. I could never leave her. Never. The greatest fear in my life is that she will leave me, and I am simply not prepared for it. For the chance to be crushed just one more time between those ungodly, delicious thighs of hers, I am prepared to give my very life.

I moved like a man possessed, making her drink and getting to that bedroom. She was down to her bra and panties, still shod in those amazing high-heels. I handed her her drink, ever so contritely, and waited for her to speak. She strutted back and forth a couple of times, her giant body swaying and swirling in such luscious, indescribable motions that she seemed to be defying the laws of physics. I choked down a sip of my drink, trying to steady my nerves. The sight of her body like this, and its mind-fucking movements had me dizzy. I felt as if I might throw up from the tension. The whole time she’s looking me over, up and down, her expression and demeanor letting me know in no uncertain terms that I’m less than a dog turd to her right now. At length, she told me to sit down. She straddled a corner of the bed and sat down also, staring a hole through me, and flashing those surreal thighs at me. For a moment she just sat there, taking a couple of sips of her drink and glaring at me with the most severe, intimidating expression. Finally, she spoke.

-Here’s the thing, she said. It’s getting to a point where I just don’t know if there’s any hope for you. I don’t know if you’ve got some kind of constitutional attitude problem, or if maybe you just enjoy pissing me off for some reason, or if maybe you’re just actually that fucking stupid that you actually don’t understand me when I tell you what to do. My real concern is that that’s it, that you’re just a big, fucking stupid dumbass who’s incapable of doing what I say. And I know you’ll agree with me, that a girl as hot as I am deserves a hell of a lot better than a fucking stupid dumbass, do I not?
-Of course—
-Shut up! You see, there you go, being a fucking dumbass! Just nod, idiot! I’ll tell you when you can speak.
I shuddered in terror, nodding agitatedly to meet with her approval.
-I hardly know where to begin. I’ve tried to think if there were any more ways you could have fucked up this evening for me, and if there were, I can’t think of them offhand. But let’s just start with this.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a dinner napkin. She handed it to me so that I immediately noticed a stain on it. It was black, like dirt or thick dust.
-Can you tell me anything about this? She asked.
I had no idea what to think. Asal had always been a clean-freak, so I knew it had something to do with something that wasn’t clean, but I had no clue as to the details. The look in my eyes told her that I knew better than to speak without permission.
-If you know something, you may speak.
I didn’t, so I just shook my head silently.
-That’s what I thought, she said. Suppose I were to tell you that this disgusting smudge rubbed off on my napkin from under the dinner table where I was sitting. Can you wrap your fucking pea-brain around that as a way of showing your love and respect for me? To place me at a table, where they’re serving my food, ON MY BIRTHDAY, NO LESS, with this kind of filth under the edge of it?
I was horrified. Of course, I hadn’t thought to have the table cleaned underneath. Shit. No wonder she was pissed. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just looked at her, petrified.
-Well, anything you can tell me about this, dumbass? Go on, speak up.
-No darling, I-I can’t believe it. I was VERY specific with the maitre d’ that every inch of the place had to be spotless for you. I can’t imagine how they would let this happen.
-I see, she said. So it’s the maitre d’s fault?
-I-I think so, yes.
-Mmmm-hmmm. So you’re saying that making me happy is the maitre d’s job, is that right?
-Well, I—
-Be careful on this one!
-I, well, it seems like, in this case, he certainly should have—
Slaaaap!! She slapped me so hard she almost took my head off.
-Fuck you! She growled. This is what I’m talking about! You and your fucking bullshit! Now you want to lie to me on top of everything else!
-I’m not ly—
-Craaaack!! She slapped the shit out of me again.
-Bullshit!! Just answer the question, you goddamn pig! WHO is responsible for my happiness? Who? Some idiot maitre d’ I never heard of, or you?
I felt tears beginning to come, but held them back. I realized there was no escaping her logic. She slapped me again, so hard.
-Well?!!
-I am, my darling. I am.
-That’s right. So, when I sit down at some filthy fucking table for my birthday dinner which YOU have arranged, and get filth like this on my napkin, WHOSE FAULT IS IT?
-It’s mine, I cried, it’s all my fault.

-Now, think about this, bitch-ass, and see if your feeble brain can follow along. If I hadn’t placed that napkin on my lap, WHERE would this filthy, disgusting smudge of dirt gone?
I almost choked as I tried to swallow.
-On your dress, I whimpered.
She became enraged. She stood up, flashed her massive thigh in front of me, then reared back and slammed it hard right into my face. The force of the blow knocked me over in my chair and sent me sprawling onto the floor. There had to be more power in those legs of hers than a 16-wheeler.
-No, goddammit, no! she screamed. Think! For one second in your stupid, worthless fucking life, THINK! What was I wearing? God, I’m so sick of your infinite stupidity!
That powerhouse kick had almost knocked me cold, but since it didn’t, my head was throbbing so hard I couldn’t pick myself up. Still, I began to realize the point. She had been wearing that ultra-short, skin-tight mini-cocktail dress, so the dirt wouldn’t have gotten on her dress. It would have gotten on her leg.
-Leg, I whimpered. I’m sorry. It would have gotten on your leg.
-Beautiful, Einstein! You see, this is what I don’t understand. You seem capable of thinking when you want to. So WHY is it you refuse to think where I’m concerned? And what other conclusion can I come to other than that you saw no problem in taking me out for a so-called ‘elegant’ birthday dinner, and then seating me at a table so filthy and disgusting that this greasy fucking smudge would have ended up on my gorgeous legs. Do I have it about right? This is the consideration you show me on my fucking birthday?!
-I’m sorry, I blubbered
-You’re sorry?! Fuck you!

She stood over me now, the predator inspecting her prey. My god, those giant legs! So exquisitely shaped, and so terrifyingly powerful. I started to cry as her slightest movements caused that leg-flesh to jiggle and quiver directly in front of me.
-Well, she continued, I’m sorry too, then. Let’s see how you like it.
With that she bent down and stuffed the smudged napkin into my mouth.
-Here you go, pig! YOU eat it, Motherfucker!
She continued to force more and more of it into my mouth until I started to gag.
-What? She railed, What’s wrong? Oh, you don’t like the taste of this filthy fucking napkin? Come on, you bitch! I want every last inch of this fucker in that big, fat, stupid mouth of yours!
She continued to shove it in above my muffled moaning.
-I don’t get it, she went on, it was OK on my leg, but not good enough for you to eat? Fuck you, Pig!
Finally, I managed to take the whole napkin into my mouth. I couldn’t breath.
-There, she said, you can just meditate on that for a little while.
She pulled my face into her crotch area, knowing how it drove me wild being so close to her legs. As I struggled to keep from suffocating, the electrical allure of her powerful body added even more juice to my gyrations. Asal laughed at my complete helplessness, and then slammed that massive, battering ram of a thigh hard into my face again. The pain was indescribable. Though I instantly felt sure the blow had broken my nose, my bigger concern was that this must be what a concussion felt like. Everything went dark, and I had the distinct sensation that my skull had cracked and that my brain had just been scrambled like so much Hamburger Helper. I lay on the floor, writhing in pain, instinctively trying to pull the napkin out of my mouth. Asal reached down and callously ripped it out herself.
-I should let you choke on that shit, but guess what? This wasn’t everything. Now that your brain’s beginning to work, I’ve got something else to show you. It looks like you just need some fucking sense knocked into you before you can fucking comprehend anything.

She strutted back to her purse, driving me to utter insanity with each gargantuan step of her enormous body. This time she pulled out a fork and brought it over to me for inspection. I had painfully reached a sitting position on the floor by this time.
-Take a look at this, she said, and tell me what you see.
I was still seeing stars from the brutal force of that massive thigh to the face, so it was hard to focus. Thankfully, my vision had cleared just enough to notice that the fork had spots on it from the dishwasher. Oh God, I thought. How could I have let this happen?
-Well?
I started sobbing harder now, knowing I was in serious trouble.
-It-It’s…
-It’s WHAT?
-It’s…DIRTY.
-Dirty?
-Yes.
-Is that it?
-It’s got spots.
-IT’S FILTHY!! She screamed. It’s fucking disgusting! And you didn’t give a rat’s fucking ass if I ATE WITH IT, did you?
-Oh, god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know.
-You didn’t know? You’re sorry? Bub, you’ve been SORRY from the get-go. But what do you mean, you didn’t know? How were you going to know when you didn’t attend to these fucking details personally? You’re such a fucking idiot! Always carrying on with people about how good you are, how organized you are. What a bunch of fucking bullshit! You’re lucky I don’t shove this up your fucking ass right now! But you know what, you pig-ass bitch-boy? There’s still more!

With that, she again pulled my face up near her crotch, just inches from those killer thighs. Her scent was maddening. Her skin smelled so perfect, like lilacs in the spring, and along with that I could detect just a hint of the divine bouquet of her cunt.
-Please, I cried. I didn’t even know what I meant by it.
Then came another big thigh, flush and powerful into my throbbing head that sent me tumbling across the room, slumping to rest in the corner. She followed immediately, killing me with the incomprehensible movements of her body.
-Now answer me this, moron! Did you notice anything unusual about our waiter tonight?
I tried to think. I remembered him well, but I couldn’t think of anything wrong or unusual.
-Well?
I didn’t answer, but just broke into deeper sobbing.
Asal reached down and slapped me again with the full weight of her body behind it. I clutched at the wall, yelping in pain.
-You didn’t notice that he SMELLED A LITTLE FUNNY? She asked.
I couldn’t place what she meant.
-God, you’re such a dip-shit. I have to spell out everything for you. And why? Because, like I keep saying, you’re nothing but a stupid fucking moron. Hell-O? He was wearing fucking Drakkar Noir! How could you miss that? It’s a man’s fucking cologne! You’re supposed to be a man! Am I missing something here? You know I HATE FUCKING DRAKKAR NOIR!! And you let him wait on me? For my BIRTHDAY!?! God, you make me sick!

I couldn’t believe it. She was absolutely right. I couldn’t say I was automatic when it came to colognes, but I certainly should have recognized the damned Drakkar Noir. Should have seen to it her waiter wore something she liked. I slumped in that corner, pretty much fetal, and mumbled a continuous mantra of ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…’
-Yeah, yeah, she scoffed. Well, mister, you’re going to pay for this bullshit. I suppose you thought I was going to allow you some mind-altering sex tonight, too, eh? Show my appreciation to you for such a ‘wonderful’ evening? Well, three guesses whether that’s going to happen. I’ve never been so fucking humiliated in all my life. So it seems to me that your punishment should fit the crime. And you know what I feeling like doing to finish off my birthday? I feel like cooking.

The Devil alone knew that this might mean. Cooking? It was after midnight. Whatever she was up to, I had a bad feeling about it.
-Let’s go, she said. You’re going to watch.
Groggy from all the blows to the head, I managed to stumble behind her out to the kitchen area. She made me sit at the kitchen table and watch her as she moved about, so impossibly sexy in her skimpy thong bottom and lacy bra. Every move she made in those awesome high heels made my cock harder and harder. Within a few minutes I was practically panting. Asal strutted around haughtily, obviously taking great delight in driving me out of my skin with raging desire. She was making breakfast; eggs, bacon, sausage, mixing it all together in a large skillet. Fighting the onset of insanity caused by my lust for her, I tried to focus on what she might be up to. I couldn’t get a handle on what might be ‘cooking’ in that devious mind of hers. I just kept remembering the line about the ‘punishment fitting the crime.’

-Keep your eyes on my legs and ass, she said as she undulated to and from the table, bringing over condiments, silverware, glasses, etc. Watching her ass sway like a wrecking ball and the maddening shakes and quivers of those huge legs with every delicious movement of her glorious, fat body was taking its toll. I was so fucking horny I thought I might explode. She purposely exaggerated each movement as well, so as to have maximum effect on my withering soul. At last she made her final approach, holding the skillet with a potholder in one hand and what appeared to be a rolled up paper towel in the other.
-Here we are, she said. Let’s share a nice late night birthday breakfast together.
I didn’t know how to respond, the whole thing was so strange. Plus, my entire focus was still on her monster thighs as she stood right in front of me.
-I thought that after treating me to such a lovely evening, I might return the favor. So, how about a little something to eat, fuck-stick?!

Without warning, she proceeded to fling the entire contents of the skillet in my face and onto my chest. Turned out she had practically filled the pan with cooking oil before putting the food in and now that scalding hot grease might as well have been a beaker full of acid as it proceeded to eat into my flesh. I screamed in pain and flipped out of the chair and onto the floor, pawing helplessly at my face.
-Oh, what’s the matter? She taunted. Oh, did you get something disgusting on your clothes? On your face? Oh my! I’m sorry. I hadn’t thought to see if that grease was hot before I threw it in your face. What COULD I have been thinking?
Asal stood over me like a vulture, watching me gyrate like a top on the kitchen floor.
-You see, bitch, she snapped, two can play this ‘Oh, I forgot’ game. Well, now let’s see how you like it!

Next she unrolled the paper towel she brought to the table and took a fork out of it. She had soaked it with cleaning fluid and dishwashing detergent and then coated it with Comet. She speared one of the sausages with it and bent back over me.
-Here, she said, eat this.
The pain was so intense that I couldn’t stop my flip-flop routine on the floor. The molten grease had already singed away sections of my face and riddled my head and chest with severe burns.
-Sit still, pig, she yelled, and open your fucking mouth.
She grabbed my hair and held my head steady as she shoved the fork into my mouth.
-Chew it up, god damn you! Right now!
She forced me to chew, and right away I could taste the Comet, though I wasn’t totally sure what the rest of the toxic mixture might be.
-Go ahead, mister big shot. Eat! It’s only a little silver cleaner and some detergent. Oh, and of course, a nice healthy portion of Comet.
I really started to buck now. She laughed and held me firmly in place.
-Oh, no, she said, it’s OK. This stuff’s good for you. What? You don’t care for it? Oh, well, you know it’s the damnedest thing. I didn’t THINK to see if that fork was clean. Aww, and now you’ve swallowed some kind of poison. I’m really sorry. I’ll try to do better next time. You don’t mind, do you?

I was freaking out, now. The chemicals began to burn the living shit out of my mouth, throat, and lungs. I struggled to breath. I felt like the flesh from my whole face had now been eaten away. It became harder to scream as the noxious toxins stormed my esophagus. All of this seemed to amuse Asal immensely. She laughed and continued to stand over me, taunting me and still showing off those devastating legs, which wasn’t helping.
-Is any of this perhaps making an impression on you, asshole? she railed. Am I getting through to your stupid ass, or has my approach been a little too subtle for that pea-fucking-brain of yours? Well, maybe I can summon the waitress over here to help you. Hmmm. I hope she doesn’t smell too bad, though.
She jerked me by the hair right up to her ass and proceeded to cut loose with a huge fart, right in my face.
-Smell that, pussy-ass, she said. And don’t you DARE touch me with that et-up face of yours. I did my best to inhale through the nose, but my system was just about on complete tilt. She fired away with another big, smelly fart. I would normally have reveled in such humiliation, but combined with the very real injuries and damage she had wrought upon me, I couldn’t really enjoy it at that moment, though the sight of her exquisite ass in my face did still have me swinging nothing but wood. She laughed as she looked back at me in my agony. Then she cut a third one, the smell flowing directly into my brain.
-Oh, jeez, my bad, she giggled. I think maybe your waitress smells a little funky tonight, don’t you? Gee, too bad I didn’t think to check and see if she felt like farting in your worthless fucking face tonight. It must have slipped my mind. Oh well, these things happen you know.

Then she turned on me again, and slammed another knee lift into my face. I felt sure now I was going to die. My throat and lungs were entirely constricted, my burns were throbbing beyond description, and now another concussion-style blast to the head. She followed me as I flipped again half way across the kitchen. She could plainly see I couldn’t breathe.
-Happy Birthday to ME, she said, and Happy 911 call to you, moron.
With that, she held me in place by the hair and fired that big thigh right into my solar plexus with everything she had. The air rushed out of me like it had been shot from a cannon and I slumped to the floor like a bag of dirt, gasping helplessly for the breath that wouldn’t come. I could hear Asal still cussing me out as she stalked away, those divine high heels clacking imperiously on the hardwood floor. Somehow, I did manage to get to my cell phone and call 911. It was close. The doctors said I was lucky. I made up some ludicrous story about someone breaking in while I was cooking and doing this to me for reasons completely unknown to me. I don’t think they believed me, but the whole thing blew over without an investigation.

Well, this was about a month ago, and my face is permanently scarred. I’m going back to the surgeon next week for another skin graft. They think I can look relatively normal again if we work hard enough at it. My esophagus, lungs, and stomach suffered damage from the chemicals, but I’m taking some meds that should help them recover with time. Meanwhile, I’m still trying to make amends with Asal, hoping she’ll eventually forgive me for being such an idiot. She pays very little attention to me, except to reprimand or punish me for my wrongdoing. Nothing as severe as her birthday night, of course. But I’ve always got to be on my toes so it doesn’t happen again. She’s a sharp cookie, and very demanding.