Related Free Sites - PopUp Free!
Fetish Sex Toys | BDSM World | The Fetish Exchange

Back to More Amazon, BBW, and Dominate Women Stories

Femal Domination
BBW, Fem Dom, Amazon Women and Female Domination



Archive-name: Amazon/batboy.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Bonnie's Battered Boy Friend





     I first met Bonnie two years ago in a health club to which

we both belonged, and I was immediately struck by her strength,

beauty and femininity.  An inch taller than my own 5'9" and with

a powerful, muscular, yet shapely body that outweighed my own by

a good ten pounds, I was fastinated at the way she could outlift

most of the men at the club and struck up a conversation with

her.  When she invited me to come home with her I accepted

eagerly.

     However, I soon discovered what she had in mind for me. 

Quickly changing into sensuous black tights that revealed every

muscle and curve of her fantastic body, she challenged me to a

friendly wrestling match.  Almost drooling at the prospect of

physical contact with this gorgeous Amazon, I readily agreed, and

before I realized it she had me downstairs on a wrestling mat in

her gameroom.  We closed, locking hands, and I held my own for a

moment or two while she tested my strength, but after that I

never had a chance.  She was stronger and faster than I and knew

every trick in the book.  She put me through a dozen holds in as

many minutes, maintaining each hold just long enough to ensure

that I couldn't escape and then moving into the next one.  She

finished me off by getting behind me, wrapping her powerful arms

around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides and lifting me

completely off the mat in a crushing bear hug that I thought

would cave in my ribs until I was completely limp with exhaus-

tion.  Then she put me across her shoulders and gave me an

airplane spin that left my mind reeling.  She finally ended the

contest--if you could call it that--by gripping my neck and

buttocks and heaving me up over her head, her arms fully extend-

ed, to hold me there, seemingly ten feet in the air, my nose

inches from the ceiling, while I struggled feebly to escape her

grip, and then tossing me on my back, stradding my chest and

pinning my shoulders to the mat with her knees.

     After I had regained my breath and some semblance of com-

posure, she asked me if I thought I could beat her at anything. 

I told her that I had done some boxing in college, but that I

would never dream of fighting a girl.  She laughed and asked,

"What's the matter?  Afraid I'll clean your clock for you?" and

produced two pair of boxing gloves.  I hesitated, but finally

decided this girl needed a lesson, so I put them on and we

squared off.  Initially, she seemed content to fight defensively;

I used every trick I knew, but she was incredibly fast, and her

bobbing and weaving caused me to miss almost every punch I threw. 

The few that were on target she easily slipped or blocked. 

Finally, in desperation, I threw a roundhouse right, but she

stepped inside it and, taking the initiative, began peppering me

with jabs and hooks to my face and body that came with blurring

speed and sent me reeling backward.  I tried to cover up and

dodge her blows, but she seemed to anticipate my every move, and

the accuracy of her punches was phenomenal.  In the next few

seconds she hit me thirty or forty times, and, although her

punches weren't hard, my head was reeling from their cumulative

effect.  Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, her onslaught

stopped, and she stood watching me, a smile decorating her lovely

face as I swayed back and forth in front of her.  "Nighty night,

lover," she said softly.  "No more lovetaps.  I'm going to put

your lights out with one punch."  Alarmed, I started to back

away, but her body became a blur of motion, and then something

slammed into my jaw with the force of a sledgehammer, spun me

almost completely around and tumbled me backward into oblivion.

     When I came to I was lying naked in her bed, and she was

lying on her side next to me looking down at me and running one

hand lightly up and down my body.  Seeing my eyes open, she

chuckled and leaned down to kiss me lightly on the tip of my

nose.  "Welcome back, baby," she said.  "I was beginning to think

you'd never come around."

     "How--how did I get here?" I blurted.

     She laughed.  "Why, I carried you up here, of course.  After

I took your clothes off.  You know, baby, you have a very nice,

soft, little body, just the kind I like to play with.  And you

made a marvelous armful as I was carrying you up here, so cute

and cuddly.  I think I'm going to have lots of fun with you."

     I gasped and tried to get up, only to find that both my

wrists were locked back over my head in the powerful grasp of her

left hand.  As I continued to struggle I felt her other hand

slide between my thighs to firmly cup my penis and testicles in

her palm.  I stopped struggling in a hurry.  "What--what are you

going to do with me?" I stammered.

     She grinned at my helplessness.  "Can't you guess?  You

know, beating you up really turned me on in a big way.  And that

soft, sexy little body of yours--well, it's enough to drive a

girl wild.  I damn near raped you just carrying you up here.  But

now that I've got you in bed, baby, I'm going to bang you like

you've never been banged before.  And you're going to love every

minute of it."

     I gasped in dismay.  That would be the final blow.  Being

raped by a girl!  The thought sent chills down my spine.  "That--

that's impossible!" I croaked.

     She laughed.  "Wanta bet?  I'll bet you your paycheck I can

do anything I want to with you.  Watch!"

     Still holding my wrists pinned behind my head with one hand

and my crotch firmly in the grip of her other hand, she lowered

her head to capture my mouth with her own in a crushing french

kiss that took my breath away.  Then, before I could recover, she

was biting and kissing my face and neck with a passion that

amazed me.  As she did so, I felt the hand cupping my crotch

start to massage and stroke me intimately, tickling the inside of

my thighs and caressing my testicles while I struggled helplessly

in her grip.  Then I felt her hand grip my penis firmly, her

thumb over its tip, as she began to masturbate me.  I gasped and

redoubled my efforts at resistance, but she quickly locked her

legs around mine and I was encased in a steel vice from which I

could not escape as she continued to manipulate my body at will.

     I had never believe it possible for a woman to rape a man,

but Bonnie had me writhing with a throbbing erection within a few

minutes, as pangs of sexual desire flooded my body.  I heard

myself moaning in mingled shame and passion, and as she finally

mounted me and took me inside her I thought I was going to climax

right then and there.  Somehow, she stopped me.  Something about

the way her hands held my body, that I haven't figured out to

this day, brought me back from the brink until she was ready, and

then I heard her breathe, "Now!" and the world exploded in an

orgasm that filled my entire being, lifting me with her and

carrying me on a wave of ecstacy to heights I had never known

before.

     When it was over, I lay limp and quivering beneath her as

she grinned down at me.  "I think you just lost this week's

paycheck, baby," she told me softly.  "And don't tell me it

wasn't worth it.  From the way you were moaning, I'll bet it was

the best you've ever had."  Despite being redfaced with shame, I

had to admit she was right, and when I said so she laughed.  "For

what it's worth, baby, you were pretty good yourself, good enough

that I think I may take you around a few more times before the

night is out.  After that, well, we'll see how you hold up."

     She was as good as her word.  She held me helpless on the

bed and raped me again and again, so often I lost count.  Even

when I thought I had no more to give her, somehow she brought me

to climax after climax, sometimes when it seemed that I was only

semiconscious, controlling my body with her hands and lips in a

way I would never have thought possible.  There was no question

of my failing her--she wouldn't let me fail her; even when I was

moaning and begging her to stop, although I swore my body could

feel nothing else, she would laugh and force me into another,

incredible orgasm.

     Finally, after what seemed like hours, she let me up, forced

me to sign my weekly paycheck over to her as payment for the bet

she had made me (I didn't recall accepting her bet, but with my

left arm twisted up behind my back I really had no choice),

helped me to get dressed and guided me on unsteady feet to the

door.  As I opened the door she suddenly put her arms around my

waist and pulled me forward, crushing me against her and bending

me backward in a french kiss that took my breath away.  Then,

stooping slightly, she wrapped her arms around my hips and

straightened, lifting me several inches off the floor, and backed

me against the door, looking up at me with a smile decorating her

lovely face.  "You were good tonight, baby," she said softly. 

"So I'll pick you up after work next Friday and we can spend next

weekend having some more fun.  Wouldn't you like that?"

     I gasped.  "I--I don't know..." I stammered.

     She chuckled.  "I do.  I'll pick you up next Friday. 

Bodily, if necessary."  She set me down and, with a pat on my

backside, sent me on my way.

     That was the beginning.  Every Friday night after that she

would be waiting for me after work in her convertible to take me

home with her.  A couple of times I tried to resist, but she

simply reached out to take my wrist in a bonecrushing grip and

force me into the car.  At her home, she would strip me naked,

change into tights and, after making me bet her my paycheck that

she could do whatever she wanted with me, spend the next hour or

so doing whatever she wanted with me.  I tried to reason with

her, pointing out that she was leaving me nothing but my savings

to live on, but she simply laughed and told me to let her know

when my savings were exhausted.  After a few weeks, when it

became apparent that I was completely defenseless against her,

she stopped going through the formality of betting me and would

simply take my paycheck and whatever else she wanted away from

me.  After she had finished with me, and I was lying at her feet

either unconscious or sobbing and begging for mercy, she would

pick me up, throw me over her shoulder, carry me upstairs to her

bedroom and spend the rest of the night raping me until I finally

fainted from sheer exhaustion.  She would make me spend Saturdays

helping her clean her apartment, and Saturday nights she would

take me out, either to dinner or to a movie before taking me to

my apartment, tossing me into my bed and raping me a couple more

times for good measure, leaving me Sunday to recover from my

ordeal.  To make matters worse, after several weeks she started

taking me out with her friends, to whom she would brag about how

easily she could beat me up and rape me at will, paying no

attention to how embarrassing her boasts were to me.  After a

while, her friends made no secret of their contempt for me,

referring to me as "Bonnie's battered boyfriend" or "Bonnie's

love toy."

     Then I began to notice that every couple of weeks or so she

would have added new weightlifting and bodybuilding equipment to

her gameroom (purchased with my money, undoubtedly!).  During

this same period, subtle changes in her body began to become

apparent; her chest and shoulders became broader and deeper, her

body harder and her arms and legs bigger and more muscular, until

my own arms and legs seemed like broomsticks by comparison.  She

even gained a couple of inches in height so that, now at an even

six feet, she towered three inches above me which, since she

always wore 5" heels when we went out together, made me feel like

a small child when I stood next to her.  Moreover, as she became

bigger and stronger, overpowering me on the wrestling mat or

beating me into submission in her new boxing ring became such a

quick and effortless exercise for her--and even more painful for

me--that she seemed almost bored.  Finally she discovered that

she could arouse herself sexually by simply picking me up in her

hands and, holding me at arms' length, tickling, squeezing,

bending and twisting my body at will while I screamed and

thrashed about helplessly in her grip.  In short, she had become

a complete sadist, and my body had become her defenseless toy, to

be used or abused at her pleasure.  Yet, after each of these

sessions when she had me in bed raping me, she gave me such

intense ecstacy that I found myself more and more willing to

endure the pain and humiliation which preceded her lovemaking.

     There was one aspect of our relationship, however, that I

could not endure.  That was the way she treated me in public.  In

every way she made it clear to anyone watching us that, in

addition to towering over me, she was the stronger and dominant

partner.  She would always walk ahead of me with long strides,

forcing me to trot to keep up with her.  She would open doors for

me and order for me in restaurants.  On the dancefloor, she would

lead, with her right arm firmly around my waist bending me

backward and molding my body to hers as we danced, my eyes about

level with her throat.  Worst of all, she thought nothing of

fondling me in public, squeezing my buttocks or tickling the

inside of my thighs, or running her hands up and down my body

sensuously to stimulate an erection.  Several times when we were

standing at a bar and a stool vacated next to us, she would reach

down, slide one hand under my buttocks and lift me effortlessly

off the floor to place me on the empty stool, much to the amuse-

ment of the others in the bar and to my embarrassment.  When I

would plead with her to be a little more discreet, she would

laugh and asked me what I thought I could do about it, and I

could only lapse into helpless silence.

     Finally my savings gave out and, when my landlord was

threatening to evict me, I tearfully pleaded with Bonnie to let

me keep enough money to at least pay my bills.  Instead, she an-

nounced that I would move in with her and become her housemaid

and personal, live-in playtoy, and that for the privilege of

sharing her quarters and giving her my paycheck every week, I

would be obliged to take care of her home after work.  She paid

off the balance of my rent and other bills, sold my few pieces of

furniture and moved me in with her.  Although I was initially

concerned that my body could not stand on a daily basis the kind

of treatment to which she had been subjecting me each week, she

obviously had the same concern, for on week nights she contented

herself with lifting, tickling and fondling me, and only occasi-

onally making love to me, but always being careful not to hurt

me.  Only on weekends did she give me the full treatment.

     Nevertheless, I still found myself rebelling against her

fondling me in public, and the matter came to a head one night,

after I had been living with her about six weeks, when she was

entertaining her friends at her home.  I was circulating through

the crowd serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres when I heard one of

Bonnie's girl friends asking her when she was going to marry me. 

Bonnie threw back her head and roared with laughter.  "Marry

him!" she exclaimed.  "Why should I marry him?  I own him!  He's

my little toy.  You don't marry a toy; you play with it, and when

you get bored with it you throw it away."  Turning to me, where I

was serving drinks several feet away, she said, "Isn't that

right, Baby Buns?"

     I put the tray down and went over to her.  "I didn't hear

that," I said.

     She chuckled, put one arm around my waist and pulled me

against her.  "I made up a little poem about you, Baby Buns. Want

to hear it?"

     I flushed.  "Well, I don't know..."

     "Well," she said, "you're going to whether you want to or

not.  It's called 'My Little Instant Erection'.  Here's how it

goes:

               When I tickle him he laughs.

               When I spank him he cries.

               When I squeeze him he screams.

               When I fondle him he sighs.

               He's my personal playtoy

               With an instant erection;

               A snap of my fingers

               And he's ready for action."



She slid one hand down under my buttocks and lifted me several

inches off the floor to plant a kiss on the end of my nose. 

"Isn't that right, Baby Buns?  Tell my friend Jeannie what you

are to me."

     Beet red, I tried to spin away from her.  "Bonnie,

please..."  But her hand slid around my hips and forced itself

between my thighs to firmly encase my crotch and again lift me an

inch or two off the floor.  And this time her voice had an edge

to it.  "Tell Jeannie what you are to me," she said again.  "And

don't make me tell you a third time."

     My voice quivering with embarrassment, I said quietly, "I'm

your playtoy."

     "My LITTLE playtoy. Right?"

     I nodded, looking at the floor.  "Yes. Your little playtoy."

     Bonnie chuckled and turned to face her friend.  "See?  Even

he knows what he is.  And he loves every minute of it.  Don't

you, Baby Buns."

     Redfaced with shame, I nodded humbly.

     Bonnie put her hands on her hips, looking down at me. 

"Well," she said quietly, "since you're being so agreeable, why

don't you get down on your knees and show the girls the only way

I'll let you kiss me."

     That was too much.  My face burning with embarrassment, I

whispered, "Bonnie, no.  Please."

     She laughed and, placing one hand on top of my head, forced

me to my knees in front of her.  She stepped forward, straddling

my body with her powerful legs, and then pulled my head up under

her skirt to mash my face firmly into her womanhood.  "Open your

mouth, Baby Buns, and show the girls how you give your mistress

pleasure."

     I had no choice.  My nose was buried between her legs, and I

couldn't breathe.  As I opened my mouth, my head was mashed up

even tighter into her hairy bush as she gave a deep sigh and then

released me.  "That was pretty good, Baby Buns," she chuckled. 

"Any of you girls want to try this with him?  If you get his nose

up there just right, it's almost as good as the real thing!"

     At that point something in my mind snapped.  With a sob of

frustration and humiliation I spun away from her, rose to my

feet, whirled completely around and tried to backhand her across

the face.  Although caught completely by surprise, she reacted

instantly, catching my wrist in a bonecrushing grip and bending

me backward across her thighs.  "Did you see that?" she gasped. 

"My little toy actually tried to hit me!"  With that, she slid

one hand down my back to grasp my belt firmly and lift me bodily

off the floor, holding me at arm's length like a sack of feathers

while I thrashed about helplessly in the grip of her single hand. 

Carrying me to a high chair in the center of the room and

slamming me face down across her lap with a force that took my

breath away, she quickly pulled my pants and underwear down to

expose my bare buttocks.  "Boys and girls," she announced to her

guests, "you are about to witness how a real woman handles a

naughty little man toy who gets out of line."  And with that, she

proceeded to spank my bare bottom with the palm of her hand as

though I were a child.

     I don't know what hurt the most, the stinging power of her

big hand as it descended again and again with sledgehammer force

against my bare flesh or the realization that I, a grown man, 

was being publicly spanked by this beautiful Amazon in front of

all our friends.  Regardless, within moments I was screaming and

sobbing with pain and humiliation as I thrashed helplessly in her

steel grip, unable to even slow the tempo of her blows.  How long

she continued to spank me I don't know; all I remember is that

toward the end my body was engulfed in a swirling cauldren of

pain and I was sobbing and begging incoherently for her to stop. 

Finally she did, lifting me off her lap and setting me on my feet

only to grip my buttocks again with a single hand that sent fiery

fingers of pain shooting through my body and march me, with my

feet barely touching the floor, to a corner of the room and stand

me there, facing the wall with my nose pushed firmly into the

corner.  "For the rest of this night, little toy," she told me

grimly, "you will stand in this corner with that blistered rear

of yours in plain sight for all the girls to see and play with,

and you will not take your eyes off that wall.  Do you under-

stand?"

     "Y-yes," I sobbed.  "Whatever you--you say."

     And so for the rest of that evening I stood there, facing

the wall, my nose firmly in the corner, with my pants and drawers

down around my ankles and my blistered rear exposed for all to

see and fondle.  And they did, much to my physical and psycholog-

ical discomfort.  Finally, after several hours, they left, and

Bonnie came over to the corner to get me.  Sliding one arm around

my waist, she picked me up, tucked securely under her arm, and

carried me to the center of the room, where she stood me on my

feet in front of her, my eyes barely reaching to her shoulder in

the six inch heels she was wearing.  Cupping my chin in her thumb

and forefinger, she tilted my head back, forcing me to look up at

her.  "Now, little toy man," she said grimly, "you're going to

clean up this mess starting right now.  And when you've finished,

I'd better be able to eat off the floor or you'll get another

session across my knee that will make the last one feel like love

pats.  I'll be waiting for you upstairs when you're finished, and

I don't want to have to wait too long.  So hop to it!"  As she

turned to go, she hesitated.  "And by the way, if you ever try to

hit me in public again, I'll break you in two like the ten cent

toy you are.  Any questions?"

     N--no," I said, and started cleaning up the mess.  When I

was finished, I went upstairs, where she made me sleep at the

foot of her bed, under her heel where, as she had said earlier, I

belonged.  For the entire next week, as further punishment for my

attempted rebellion, she forced me to satisfy her with oral sex,

permitting me absolutely no sexual pleasure or satisfaction what-

soever.  When she finally did relent and take me to bed with her,

however, she gave me orgasm after orgasm at heights I had never

before experienced, even at her hands, and by the time she had

finished all I wanted was to please her and to be taken into her

body and become a part of her.

     We have lived together ever since.  Contrary to what she

said that night, she has never tired of me, at least not yet. 

And I am content to be the male love toy of my beautiful, Amazon-

ian mistress.



--




More Free Stories about Large Dominant & BBW Women at the AllMe.com Archives

Back to More Free Sex Stories