Friday, August 10, 2007

Kari (part 1)

By pete

The shoe salesman knelt before me, high heels in hand. “Those are…

Wait, before I tell you about my day allow me to introduce myself…

My name is Kari; I’m a brunette, 5’9, with curves to die for. Or so I have been told by lucky guy after lucky guy. I’m not saying I’m easy or anything or put out after just a few drinks; I’ve just never understood why other girls as sexy as me are so uptight. All men want us; we know it and if we like them, why not enjoy ourselves. I mean, after all, as females we have the advantage. All those poor guys out there have to spend time and money on us just to get us into bed but if we want any of them, anytime, we can get them just by showing a little leg and some cleavage. Poor guys, they’re slaves to their penises.

Never mind, I digress. As I was saying I’m Kari and ever since I was fifteen I’ve found guys sooo sexy, but not for the reasons guys think. Succinctly it’s balls. They’re so wonderful, dangling there, empowering all those men and yet making them more vulnerable than even a young child. It’s like an off switch on a guy. If he ever gets out of hand, just give it knock and BANG the guy is kneeling before you. (Girls may wish to take notes! Trust me girls, we can make them do anything we want just by reminding them of their “disadvantage” at appropriate times).

Speaking of kneeling let’s continue the story…

The shoe salesman knelt before me, high heels in hand. “Those are a beautiful pair aren’t they ma’am? I think they really suit you,” he said with a smirk across his face I have come to expect from overconfident guys like him. His appearance spoke volumes about his personality, his loud, sharp, shiny blue suit, the silk, reflective tie, his blonde highlighted hair, not to mention his one-size-too-small trousers which caused a beautiful bulge to appear whenever he knelt before his customers.

“Er... excuse me, ma’am?” he inquired, that smirk getting larger.

“Hmm… pardon?” I replied. Had he caught me staring at his package? I hope not but if he had, it was worth it. It looked so vulnerable.

“I said these are a beautiful pair of heels aren’t they?”

“Oh yes, they’re lovely, do you like them?” I giggled. I always like to giggle when guys think they’ve caught me staring. It makes them feel big and strong and it makes me look innocent and, so I’ve been told, is quite sexy. I must say the salesman definitely agreed as his little organ swelled in his trousers. He realized this too but it only seemed to make him cockier (if you’ll excuse the pun) as he was now looking deep into my eyes and had moved closer whilst slipping the shoe onto my leg. I have to admit; I was getting a little turned on too. I could feel my nipples hardening and my breathing deepen. But, hey, I still had to put him back in his place. After all, he was male and a bit too overconfident for his gender. THUD. With my legs crossed I thrust the upper one into his growing package feeling it connect with that most satisfying of sounds as those soft little male organs connected with solid bone. He rolled back off his knees and onto his ass, just managing to break his fall with his hands.

“Eumph, ah, ahem…” he mumbled, trying to hide the pain he felt coursing through his manhood. “What hap...arg…pened there?” he stammered, slowly reassuming his old position on his knees before me.

“Oh my! I’m so sorry sir. I didn’t mean to hit you there. You just surprised me as your hands slid up my leg. They’re so cold. Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?” I said, putting on my most apologetic and seductive smile.

“Of course not ma’am, I’m fine!” Poor guys, it must be genetic, they just can’t admit weakness to a woman. “Do they fit well?”

“Yes they’re perfect, thanks”

“Great, I’ll get the shoebox and…” He paused to turn himself slightly sideways to me as he realized he was still exposed. Guys tend to do this a lot when I hit them there. I wonder if it’s a subconscious reaction! “And then you can pay at the counter, they’ll be $99.”

“Oh that’s fine. Thanks!”

I paid my money and started to leave the store the salesman, whose name I had learned (in the course of idle chit-chat) was Michael, following behind me. As I was about to step out I turned to face him.

“Listen Mike, I feel so guilty about what I did earlier. I know how sensitive you guys are down there.” I suppressed a grin.

“Oh don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine. I’m a big boy,” he smiled back at me, though with a smirk which was far less arrogant and self-assured now.

“Okay, that makes me feel better, I guess I should be more careful. Hey Mike, you know if there’s ever any way I can make it up to you don’t…” I broke off my sentence as soon as I realized what he would ask, I didn’t particularly want to go out with a shoe salesman, no matter how sexy he was.

“Er... don’t what?” he enquired, that smile of his getting larger.

“Well... I mean... just... well you know, don’t…” Damn it! Think Kari! Think! Too late. “Don’t hesitate to ask,” I said, completing my ill-started sentence.

“Hmm, you know there is one thing you could do for me. Would you like to come out with me for a meal this evening?” He asked this with such a regained self-confidence I felt obligated to put him in his place. Tonight would give me the perfect opportunity.

“Of course I would. Anything to make up for today,” I purred back at him. I’m sure you don’t care about the arrangements made. Briefly, he agreed to pick me up in his Porsche and drive me to Mrs. Wong’s for ‘the best meal I would ever have’. During the conversation I learned that he was only temporarily working at the shoe store while he waited for his company to be handed down to him from his father. His rich ‘daddy’ wanted him to understand the value of a dollar. I was wondering how a shoe salesman could afford a Porsche. I have to admit at that point I was starting to warm up to him.

I strutted out of the mall and through the multi-story car park towards my car. These dank, dirty, dimly lit surroundings can’t be very safe I thought. Just as I was about to put the keys in the car door someone grabbed me round the neck from behind forcing me against my own car door (I’m sure he intentionally brushed across my ample breasts as his hands went up and across me to my neck, tearing my dress as he went).

“Give me all your money lady or I’ll kill you!” With what, I thought. He didn’t have a weapon. A male, no weapon, no threat… hmm. Almost instinctively I grabbed his hands pinning them against them my neck and then back-heeled him into his dangling sack. Poor guy, I don’t think he even knew what hit him. He automatically tried to pull his hands away from his neck to protect himself but with my hands pinning his to my neck he couldn’t move them and no longer had to the strength to do it by force. Again and again I pummeled his dangling gonads, this big, strong, powerful male having no choice but to stand there and take the hits as a weak, gentle female defeated him with ease. I let go of his hands, spun on the spot and before this big clumsy male could move to protect himself, I grabbed his testicles with both hands. I must admit he was very well hung. I was impressed. I had to fish past that thing to get to his testicles.

“Arrrrrr…uh... uh... please.” The defeated male uttered.

“Please what? I can’t hear you! Sorry!” I taunted. “What’s wrong? I thought you were going to mug me, what’s stopping you?” I asked, applying a little more pressure to his already aching gonads.

“Huh…I…uuhhh... oh god please don’t...” He stopped mid-sentence as I applied even more pressure. I was sure I could break them if I wanted. I wonder how his male pride would respond to no testicles? At this point I started to get worried. He seemed totally dazed. His face was red and his body seemed limp. Not only that, but I didn’t want people to catch me doing this.

“Promise me you will never mug me or any other woman ever again. Just remember we gals could finish you just like that!” I squeezed as hard as I could for a few seconds, making his face redder and his body limper, then let go. He collapsed before me like a tent with no support frame, his head slamming into my breasts, which were now only supported by my bra after he tore my dress. That hurt a little so I gave him a knee for good measure and he slid off me to lie fetal on the floor. I must admit, whenever I see guys like this, all defenseless and vulnerable, part of me wants to comfort them. I almost feel sorry for them. How can they protect themselves down there? It’s just such a tender spot. Thank God I’m not male. Let’s face it; God must be female. Why would She want to be male and curse Herself like that?

I got in my car and carefully reversed out of my parking place, being sure not to run the guy over, who, as I would later read in the paper had remained in that position for twenty minutes before he was found.

I was really looking forward to meeting my date this evening, now that I had warmed up.

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