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