Husband Tamed

By Hardie

A loveless marriage ends in total domination - of the husband!

This story contains explicit material and should be read by adults only.

It was about to happen! All that she'd been training for during the past year or so, all the work in the gym, was coming to fruition, and it was Mark, her husband, who had suggested it.

Mary had married at the age of seventeen and it had all started to go wrong soon after the wedding. But, being Roman Catholic, a divorce was out of the question. However, the girl had thought of a different solution. If she seized control of the situation, then she could mold the relationship to her needs. All she had to do was gain complete mastery of her large, powerfully muscled, twenty-five year-old husband! That night, she felt she was ready.

"I don't want you to go out drinking with your friends again tonight," she'd said calmly, as Mark was getting ready to go.

"Don't start that again," he'd snarled. "I go out when I want to. Unless, of course, you think you can stop me!" Mary eyed her husband critically. He was almost naked, standing in his brief underpants, holding a pair of chinos, which he intended to put on. At six foot two inches, he was a head taller than the girl. His broad shoulders supported a thick neck, and she was made fully aware of his muscle packed arms as he placed them on his hips and thrust out his barrel like chest in a posture of intimidation. A once rock hard stomach now sagged slightly due to a constant intake of alcohol, but the man's massive thighs confirmed the fact that he was still in good shape and was very strong.

`Could a girl beat up such a powerful man?' she asked herself. Her instructor at the gym said she could. She said a woman could be just as good a fighter as any man provided she was fast, skilful and kept cool enough to apply her skills. Mary was fast and skilful enough. The instructor said she's never had a better pupil. Now she was about to find out if she was cool under `fire'!

"I can stop you, if that's what I have to do," said Mary. "If you want a fight, let's have one! We can move the furniture back in the lounge and settle this once and for all. Agreed?" Mark didn't know what to say. That his slim little child bride was accepting his challenge seemed unbelievable. Still, if it would stop her nagging...

"Ok," he said, smiling, "if that's what you want. Don't blame me if you get hurt though." When the furniture had been moved, Mary took off her dress, slowly peeling it up over her curvaceous body, knowing the effect this would have on her male opponent, using her sex to her advantage. Underneath she wore a pair of navy blue cotton gym briefs which clung to her pelvis and buttocks, flowing over her skin with every movement of her lithe young body, emphasizing her femininity. Her pert little breasts were covered by a white crop top, and she wore a pair of white boots which reached almost to her knees. Apart from that she stood naked, her slender young body barely concealing the hard female muscles which rippled just below the surface of her smoothly tanned skin. The girl knew that this was an outfit that Mark found especially exciting, and she was gratified to see a bulge growing in the crotch of the man's cotton briefs.

"No holds barred," said Mary, "and only total submission by the loser ends the fight, right?"

"Right," agreed Mark, not really listening, too busy drinking in the spectacle of his sexy young wife preparing to fight him in her knickers and top and those boots which helped to focus attention on the girl's sturdy, curvaceous thighs. He resolved to grab her, overpower her, strip her and screw her until she...

She kicked him in the balls.

Mark doubled up, clutching himself, a cry of pain cut off as a female fist crashed into his mouth. More pain shot through the man's huge frame as the girl drovee her foot into his knee cap. Then she stepped back.

Mary knew she could have finished off her husband there and then, but she also knew that the matter would not have been resolved. He would always be able to claim that she'd attacked him before he was ready, while he was still drooling over her body; and she'd kicked him in the balls. He'd shout `Foul!' even though he'd agreed to a `no holds barred' contest.

"Have you had enough, husband?" she asked mockingly. "Why don't you just give in now and save yourself a beating. I don't really want to hurt you unless I have to, but if I have to, I'll give you the hiding of your life!"

Mark couldn't believe what was happening. He was hurting, but the pain was going away. She'd caught him cold, but she wouldn't get away with that again. He was indignant, angry. How dare his wife, a chit of a girl, attack him, threaten him, mock him, kick him in the balls. He wanted to get hold of her and hurt her, hurt her badly.

He charged into the attack.

The girl was expecting nothing less, and met his charge with a beautifully executed stomach throw, rolling onto her back, thrusting one foot into Mark's stomach as his momentum carried him over her, and helping him on his way with a thrust from her shapely leg. Mark crashed upside down into an armchair, the soft upholstery saving him from serious injury. Half winded and wholly bemused, the man was still untangling himself when the female fury struck again.

Rolling agilely to her feet, Mary felt the laughter bubble inside her as she saw her massive husband spread-eagled over the chair in an upside down position. She picked her spot and launched herself into a running drop kick, thrusting her foot at the man's vulnerable balls.

More by luck than judgment, Mark's muscular thigh got in the way as he rolled off the chair. The girl was thrown off balance, stumbled sideways and spun into the wall, slightly winding herself in the process. This allowed Mark to get to his feet and he advanced on the girl with murder in his heart.

Mary let him come. She was sure he only knew one way to fight, and that was to throw punches. Well, she could throw punches too, but she could throw them faster! And she knew other ways to fight as well! Mark dropped into a boxer's crouch, hiding behind forearms as thick as Mary's calves. His fist shot out, aimed at the girl's smiling face.

She swayed aside. Her own fist shot out, flicking under the man's guard and hitting his stomach. He hardly felt it and threw another punch at his beautiful young wife. It missed. The girl hit him again, then closed, trapping his arms with her chest, and hit him with a couple of full-strength blows to the stomach before he could push her away.

He felt those all right. Mary could punch her weight, and Mark's stomach muscles were pickled in beer. She thrilled with satisfaction as she heard him gasp as her little fists smacked into his male body.

A roundhouse right from the huge man almost took the girl's head off as she just managed to duck under it. As his body spun towards her with the force of his blow, the girl braced her foot against the wall behind her, ducked her head as low as she could, pushed off with her foot and launched herself like a human missile into her husband's mighty frame. Her head caught him flush in the lower abdomen, stopping him dead, driving the air from his lungs as his mouth dropped open, his arms dropped down. He doubled up on trembling legs, his mouth open, trying desperately to gulp in air. The girl, totally calm, totally focused on the destruction of her massive mate, spun him round and pushed him back against the wall.

Holding the winded man by the hair, the young girl fighter smashed her fist into his face, breaking his nose with one vicious punch, splitting his eyebrow with another before he could get his oxygen starved arms to begin defending himself. As his arms came up, the girl stomped with her boot into the unfortunate man's shin. His body began to fold again to ease the pain, and she once more smashed her fist into her husband's unprotected face. Dazed, bewildered, and in pain from the savage attacks of his lovely, young wife, Mark was panic stricken as he slumped against the wall, realizing he was being badly beaten by the girl. Mustering all his courage and considerable strength, he tried to fight his way out. His arms came up. His mighty, ham-like fists flew, but to no avail.

Mary stood her ground. Toe-to-toe the lithe young girl fought it out with the hulking man. To the towering, muscle laden male it seemed inconceivable that a girl could stand up to him in a fistfight, but Mary's adrenaline was flowing. She had never felt so alive. She was taking on a bigger, heavier, stronger male opponent and she was determined to beat him, to show that girls everywhere that men could be beaten by tough, skilful female fighters.

Mary was able to avoid her husband's punches without too much effort. Winded and weakened, his heavily muscled arms were ponderous in the extreme. The girl ducked and weaved as his blows flailed empty air. Then she laced into the floundering man, cutting him to pieces with her tiny, flashing female fists. The lightning fast little girl tore through the huge, cumbersome man's defense, boring into his hard, male body, smacking into his bloodied face, sucking the strength from him until he could barely raise his once formidable arms in his defense.

Remorselessly, the pitiless young girl slashed her fists into her stricken husband. She pinned him against the wall by the throat with one hand and drove punch after punch into his exposed stomach with the other. Ignoring the man's sobbing moans, the girl moved in closer. Carefully she lined up her target, then, with calm deliberation the merciless girl fighter drove her knee into the man's dangling balls with sickening force. A howl of male anguish escaped the man's throat as the pain surged though his massive frame.

The curvaceous, slender girl, who looked so soft and feminine but whose fighting instincts were feral, let go his throat. Then, as his body slumped, she thundered her tiny fist into the collapsing man's jaw. Mark's massive, muscular, male body slid down the wall, bloodied eyes staring reproachfully, like a wounded deer, at the girl who was smashing him to defeat.

Disdainfully, Mary watched the man slump to the floor. She turned him onto his face, used all her strength to pull his mightily muscled arms up behind his back, then heaved. She smiled as her husband screamed in agony as she removed any threat from his arms by rendering them useless. But she wasn't quite finished with him.

As his body writhed in agony, the girl kicked him onto his back and lowered herself none too gently onto his deep, manly chest. Reaching behind her, the agile young girl grasped the man's aching balls and squeezed.

"Now you can give in to me," she purred, as her husband screamed in agony. She applied more pressure as huge sobs wracked his once powerful body.

"St..st..stop! P..please.st..st.stop!" the suffering man pleaded, but he saw no mercy in the girl's deep eyes. She let go his balls, held him by the hair and raised her fist. She smashed a punch into the helpless man's face.

"Give in," she suggested softly, raising her fist again. She hit him in the mouth, hurting, breaking teeth, as her stricken mate tried to salve his male ego by resisting her. Once more she raised her fist. She looked hard into her terror stricken husband's eyes, giving him no hope of succor. The man's will collapsed. The girl had destroyed his fighting spirit. He could resist no more. He had to accept defeat at the hands of his svelte young wife.

"I g..give in!" he mumbled, sobbing with pain and the shame of being so savagely beaten by a little girl.

"Good boy," smiled his wife. She was thrilled at the way she'd beaten up a big, strong man so easily. She felt the power she had over him as he lay cringing and crying under her heel as she stood up and put her foot on his heaving chest and raised her arms in victory. She had beaten him in combat. Now he had to be completely broken and made to do her will.

This would be fun. This was the dark side of her she'd always known was there but which she'd suppressed until now. She knew she would thoroughly enjoy destroying the willpower of a man and making him into her plaything. First, she removed his underpants, leaving him lying naked at her feet.

Mark was looking up at the girl standing over him. A girl who wore the clothes which excited him more than anything. A girl flushed with the success of conquest of the male. A sight which sent his libido into overdrive. Despite his shame, his pain and his dread of what was to come, Mark's cock strained upwards into the biggest erection he'd ever had. Mary watched in wonder. She smiled mysteriously, then drove her foot into the man's tautened balls.

"From now on, husband," she chided, as he writhed in agony one the floor, "you will only get a hard-on with my permission. Now I am going to give you a good beating to remind of this rule. Say `thank you'!"

And the mighty, but totally subjugated male, said `thank you' to the feisty young female who had smashed him to defeat and destroyed his will to fight. The girl had won, and they both knew it! Mary made the sobbing man stand up straight, the palms of his hands against the wall, his legs astride so that his cock and balls dangled down between his buttocks. She reached under the cushions of the sofa and brought out a three-foot long cane she'd purchased specially for the occasion, in anticipation of her victory, and swished it through the air. She smiled sadistically as she saw her victim's body tense with anticipation. Then she struck.

Coolly and systematically, the girl slashed her husband's naked body with her instrument of chastisement, totally ignoring the pleas for mercy which gradually deteriorated into whimpers of despair. Eventually, as her arm grew tired from the thrashing she was giving him, Mary stopped.

"Get on your knees!" she ordered her pain-ravaged spouse. "Now crawl over to me." The girl watched with elation as the massive male did as he was ordered.

"Now beg like a dog," she told him. Then, when she was satisfied with his posture of servility, she put her hands on her hips, and stood with feet astride in front of his cowering frame.

"Look at me," she said, pinning her husband's pathetic gaze with her steadfast stare. His lip was quivering as he fought back tears of shame at the state of total humiliation this young girl had enforced on him. His will was broken. He was hers to command, and a strange feeling of relief spread through his once proud male body. He burst into tears.

The girl looked scornfully at the large, muscular, superbly built male she'd reduced to a shivering, spineless wreck and she glowed with pride. She, the woman, the female, was the better fighter. She didn't need massive muscles, strength, balls or testosterone. All she needed was the speed, the skill and the willpower of a girl! She had smashed the man to defeat, destroyed his fighting spirit, drained his will and his strength and thrashed the mighty male into total subjugation.

The girl looked deep into the man's terrified, tearful eyes and disdainfully kicked him in the balls. The man's huge body crashed to the floor as he cried in anguish, clutching his balls as he thrashed in agony.

Mary looked down at him. "Put the furniture back," she ordered as she went off to have a shower, "and don't bleed on the carpet!"