I was out at my usual hangout when I spotted my ex girlfriend Mable at the other end of the bar. I hadn't seen her in at least a year. Mable had been an oddity for me, as far as sexual partners go. I usually go for the pale, cute, petite, sensitive and submissive girls. Mable was quite different. She was the only girl I had ever dated who I could describe as a "hardbody". She's 5'8' tanned & lean and has a predatory look about her. Not to mention an incredible ass. I think it was that which made me deviate from my usual pattern and ask her out. We dated for a couple of months and then mutually ended things.

Sex with Mable was of the "ok" sort, which I found unfortunate. To be in bed with such a physically hot body (scrumptious clean shaved pussy too), but not to feel any real passion was a disappointment to me. I put it down to not being able to establish an emotional connection. I found Mable not to be cold, but simply disconnected. She wasn't very forthcoming about the things that turn her on, and sadly I wasn't able to bring any passion out of her. I put this down to both my own lack of ability and the possibility that she was simply uninteresting sexually. Either way, I don't think that either of us was too crushed when we decided to move on to other pastures.

Anyway, I found myself looking at her across the bar, I felt a little pang of regret about my past performance with her. She looked hot as always, wearing tight black vinyl hotpants and knee high boots. I thought to myself that I was probably a little too soft with her during the time that we were together. Since she was probably the most conventionally attractive girl that I ever dated, and in great demand from other guys, I let her get away with things that I had never my other girls get away with in an attempt not to upset or offend her. I accepted tepid, shallow blowjobs, tried extra hard to be sensitive, and never introduced her to the kinky darkside of my sexual self.

I would have never dreamed of approaching Mable again, if it had not been for one lingering little reminiscence of my short time with her. One small scrap of information about her that continued to intrigue me. This small item was brought back to mind full force by seeing her stalking around my favorite hangout in her little-miss-fuck-me vinyl outfit. Several times throughout our relationship, Mable would tell me that she liked to work out in a gym. This didn't surprise me, since she had such a lithe, toned body. She would invariably inform me during the course of our conversation that she had worked out that day, and talk about how "buff" she was getting. Of course, I would compliment her that she looked good. Then oddly, she would make some sort of remark implying that she was in such good shape that she was probably stronger than me! Self-depreciating as I am, I always agreed with her that she probably was (never believing that for a moment).

It's hard for me now to believe that at the time, I never even gave her remarks a second thought, because in the subsequent year since we broke up, I had become quite obsessively interested in physical and sexual domination of all sorts. Whenever I thought about Mable (which was seldom), I had wondered if she really was that strong, and could be a dominant woman. She had never shown such a side at all during our sexual contact. Seeing her then, in the bar, these thoughts had begun to take hold in my mind again. I decided to find out. I approached her at the bar, looked directly into her eyes and stated simply "You look like you've been working out bitch"...

An hour later, I was staring across my living room at Mable, who was stripped down to her black bra and little vinyl short shorts. I too was stripped to my boxer shorts. I guess it wasn't too hard to convince her of the necessity of seeing who was really stronger. We would wrestle until one of us asked for "mercy". And it was I who suggested to make things more "interesting" by placing various items around the room for use should things take a sexual turn (which of course they would).

Very quickly, what I had envisioned as an arousing bit of sexy wrestling took a turn that I had never expected. It turns out that Mable was a bit more serious about this stuff than I had ever dreamed. After a bit of grappling (in which I found out she was every bit as strong as I wished), she punched me in the stomach with a forced that doubled me over in pain and I went down on the floor on my knees, struggling to breath.

"HA! That was so fucking easy!" she shouted.

"Shit...I didn't think you were gonna fucking punch me!", I gasped.

"Too bad pussy...now say "mercy" or I'll do it again."

I was in a state of shock. This was not at all what I had expected out of this. And the bitch had called me a pussy. I began to get mad through the pain. I told her that I would not be saying "mercy" any time soon.

"Ok...just remember that you asked for it."

I was still on my knees at her feet. She hauled back and kicked me in the stomach hard with her bare foot. If I was in pain before, that memory was erased by the kick, which sent me absolutely reeling in a wave of pain and nausea. I was out. The "fight" was over before it had even begun. Through my glazed eyes, I saw that Mable calmly sat down on my living room couch and casually began to hum to herself and thumb through a magazine, while I lay on the ground helpless and writhing in pain. This bizarre scene went on for about three minutes, until I managed to recover slightly and get to my knees. Mable then walked over to me and helped me up to my feet. She gazed into my eyes. She was calm, cool and serene. I was shaking with tears flowing down my face, humiliated. She caressed my hair with her left hand and planted a kiss on my lips.

"Are you ok?"...she whispered.

"I guess." I was trembling.

"Good. Because you still haven't said MERCY!"

Her left hand grabbed my hair and she slapped me hard across the face with her right. I probably would have fallen again but she was holding me up by the hair. Again and again she slapped me. Stinging, humiliating blows coming from a slim120lb girl and I was helpless to stop her. She thrust my face right into hers an spat on me.

"I changed my mind pussy. I don't want you to say mercy anymore. In fact don't even bother trying. It won't matter. Instead, I'm going to use your sorry ass. Make you my bitch. See, I'm a changed girl, different than you remember."

That was the understatement of the century. I had no idea what she intended to do to me, but I realized in my debilitated condition, there was no way I was going to stop her.

"Now my little pussy, we can make this relatively easy or we can make it hard. Very hard. You decide. You can get on your knees right now, or I can beat the shit out of you some more. I think you'll make the right decision. On your knees...NOW."

I thought for a moment about fighting back, and found that I was afraid. Afraid. In my own home, with a girl that I had fucked numerous times I was afraid. The fear came from the fact that I was truly unsure whether this girl would hurt me seriously. I could end up in the hospital or even dead. My strength to fight back was sapped to the point where I thought it would be best to obey. I sank to my knees.

"Now you can start by showing me how much you like my ass. You always said I had a great ass, right?"

She quickly stripped off her little shorts, turned and stuck her ass in my face. The irony is that on any number of occasions, I would have been happy to suck her beautiful ass, but she had never shown any inclinations toward this type of thing. Now she was bumping and grinding, shoving my face into her ass and instructing me to tongue her anus.

"Ugghhh....yes bitch....deeper...get your tongue in there...come on boy...do it right...FUCK YEAH."

As I licked....and licked...and licked...my recovery increased to the point where I was not so much in pain, but simply overwhelmed by emotions. I realized that I was incredibly turned on by this treatment. Being dominated by this psychotic bitch-vixen was something out of my dreams, or nightmares. Mable roughly extracted my head from her ass, threw me down on my back, grabbed my boxer shorts and ripped them off. She noticed my huge hard-on.

"Oooh....looks like you've got a little problem there. Maybe I can help you out with that. Or maybe not."

She stomped hard on my sore stomach, incapacitating me yet again. Standing over my prone body she pressed her small foot onto my face, turning my head sideways onto the floor, putting just enough pressure to force my cheek onto the floor. She stood over me, posing majestically.

"Ref, I believe he is pinned. You may start the count. Oops, I forgot. There's no ref...I'll have to do it myself....ONE....TWO...THREE...The winner and new champion...Mable!"

She was maniacal...

"Pussy, it's too bad for you that this was a submission-only match, no pins. Otherwise it would not be over...I guess I'll just have to carry on. You look hungry...I guess I'll have to feed you something."

She rubbed her exquisite and deadly little foot all over my face, literally rubbing my face in her total dominance over me.

"Open up sweety...time for dinner."

She took great satisfaction in shoving her foot into my gaping mouth. Her foot was small enough for me to stretch my lips entirely around it. I could feel her toes touch the back of my throat as she slid her foot over and over again into my obscenely stretched mouth.

"That's right bitch...suck it...Suck it like a big fat dick...come on pussy...deep throat my little foot...GAG ON IT..."

Every once in a while she would pull it out and slap my face roughly with it or pinch my nose with her toes, only to shove it back in my mouth deeper. She was rubbing her cunt while doing this, her dominance turning her on immensely. Eventually though, she tired of this. I was totally exhausted and out of breath from her efforts.

"Come on...you're not done...on your knees", she pulled me up.

She thrust my face into her cunt. Silently I prepared myself for what was sure to be about an hour of oral service. I was wrong.

"We can't have dinner without a little wine now can we?"

She pissed in my face, all the while screaming humiliating insults. She held my head firmly in her crotch, making me drink, yanking my head into different positions to make sure every inch of my face and hair was drenched with piss. When she finished she again threw me to the ground with disdain.

"God you're pathetic...I would have never believed that you are such an asslicking piss-drinking little slave bitch...I thought that you were a man but I guess I was wrong. You're just like a girl...and you know what you do with girl's...you fuck 'em. And just in case you think you're going somewhere..."

She stomped my tortured stomach again. I wasn't going anywhere. She picked up a bottle of baby oil and a large dildo that earlier in the evening I had intended to fuck her with. Mable then bent down facing my legs and sat on my face, forcing my mouth and nose into her dripping cunt. She pulled my legs back towards my head, folding my body up painfully. She used her elbows to immobilize me completely. She ground her cunt into my paralyzed head while oiling up my ass with her free hands.

"Now here's the deal. Were gonna do some sucking and fucking. You'll be doing the sucking and of course I'll be doing the fucking!"

I had no choice, no will to resist. A 120lb girl was going to rape me with my own sex toy. When she plunged that huge dildo into my ass, my world exploded in pain like I've never felt, before or since. The rape seemed to go on for hours, and to tell the truth, I didn't do much sucking, not that it mattered to her because she was using my face like her own personal sex toy. She had three long protracted orgasms, each time drenching my face with copious girl cum. Finally it was over. She climbed off of me. I lay on the ground crushed, an exhausted wreck.

"Damn that was good. I didn't think I would do this, but since I had so much fun whipping your ass, I think you deserve a reward. Stay right there..."

She approached me and once again folded my legs back, forcing them upwards until only my head and shoulders supported me on the floor. I was pinned again. She cooed soft words to me while she rubbed and pumped my cock which grew to huge dimensions. Despite my humiliation I was still turned on. I couldn't resist her power. I realized in horror that at the angle I was bent that the head of my cock was only inches from my head and pointed directly at my face!

"No...please...don't."

"Oh yes....you're going to cum...that's right...yer gonna blow a big load....right in your own face...CUM NOW or I swear to god I'll pummel you some more..."

With her free hand she pried open my mouth while she jerked my off expertly and I came in buckets, drenching my own face and tongue. She laughed and cheered all the while. It was the best orgasm I ever had. I hated her.

She stood over me and just looked and looked at the destruction she had caused. She looked quite amazed at what had happened, at what she had done. Even a little embarrassed.

"Thank you...that was amazing", she said quietly.

I was incredulous. She was thanking me, even though I had absolutely no choice in the matter.

"I'm still so turned on. We're going to fuck now. You still seem to be hard. And I've always loved your big cock."

Her manner had softened a bit as she mounted me. She was still in complete control as she rode me. As we fucked she lost control, bit by bit. She quivered. She softened. She came, squealing, softening more.

And I recovered, bit by bit. Sexual energy was healing my battered body.

When she shuddered through her fifth orgasm of the evening, our little dynamic turned itself around and my humiliation and hate for her gave me the energy to finally subdue her.

Suffice it to say, I spent the rest of that long night giving back threefold what she gave to me. Mable became quite familiar with the word "mercy". My cockhead became well acquainted with her throat...her cervix...her bowels. And her pretty toes became well acquainted with her pretty mouth. I slept soundly with my softened dick firmly encased in her mouth.

In the morning, we woke groggily.

"How do you feel Mable?" I asked her.

"Broken. You?"

"Broken."