Killer Nurse 2

By number2

(sequel to http://bbstories-number2.blogspot.com/2007/08/killer-nurse.html)

The next weeks were the highlight of Nurse Linda Colville’s life. Still soaring from the exhilaration of destroying two Marines, she vowed to make the third’s life a hell on Earth. After soundly defeating Lt. Berry, she subjugated him to her will. The stocky Marine was now the willing slave to the teen nurse that had taught him about her superiority.

Linda had come up with a schedule of daily duties for her slave to perform and she delighted in coming up with new tasks for him, some of which she knew would be impossible for him to perform, just so she could punish him. Lt. Berry would start each morning getting up hours before Linda and foraging through the jungle for food. He would bring it to their makeshift camp and have her breakfast ready before awakening her. Linda decided that the most pleasant way to be woken up would be to have her big, strong Marine supplicate himself at her dainty feet and kiss each one gently. After Berry had done this task, he was to lap at the bottom of her feet until Linda awakened.

Linda slept in Berry’s Marine uniform, which she had altered to fit her lissome body. Berry was to be nude at all times in her presence; Linda would allow him the luxury of wearing underwear when he was out getting food or water from the jungle. Berry would then serve the dominating teen her meal and only when she finished would she allow Berry to partake in whatever leftovers were available.

When Berry finished cleaning up Linda would head outside for her morning calisthenics. Berry would be forced to watch the stunning young girl as she stripped off his/her uniform and performed stretches, lunges and bends in front of him. Any normal man would attain an erection from this sight and Berry was no exception. Months without any release coupled with Berry’s darkest fantasy of being dominated by a woman gave him what became a painful erection every morning. It always brought a smile to Linda’s beautiful face to see the nude soldier, sweating, a massive boner pointing directly at her; it was one of the reasons she would not allow him to wear clothes.

Linda would finish off her morning workout by taking a long swim in the surrounding ocean. She would swim from anywhere from a half an hour to two hours, depending on her mood, and Berry would stand at attention on the shoreline waiting for her to emerge, just to towel her off.

Her morning exercise along with consuming the majority of the food kept Linda in phenomenal shape, possibly in better shape than when she arrived on the island. Berry, on the other hand, was starting to break down. He had dropped from his nearly 200 pounds down to under 180. Linda had graciously shared her supply of quinine (after all, she didn’t want a dead slave) so malaria was not a problem for either of them. Linda has noticed this, of course, but didn’t care, as long he served her.

Afternoons were for Linda’s martial arts practice. She would re-don Berry’s (now her) uniform and spar with the beleaguered lieutenant. What was once a nearly even contest had turned into just another way for Linda to brutalize her servant. Generally, Linda would start by circling Berry slowly, jabbing and feinting, trying to find the perfect opening. Berry attempted to defend himself, but to no avail. When he was completely healthy, she had nearly killed him; now it was a complete mismatch. When Linda was through playing with her toy, she would strike hard and fast. Her favorite targets were Berry’s face and his oversized balls. A quick punch to his head and Berry would almost always raise his defenses leaving his groin wide open. She tried a myriad of attacks; from straight kicks, back kicks and knees to punches, grabs and twists. Eventually one or more of Linda’s blows would fell Berry. This led to another daily ritual; Linda would force Berry onto his back then straddle his face. She would writhe back-and-forth until she exploded in orgasm leaving Berry beaten and extremely horny. She would then retire to her hut for an afternoon nap while Berry was to gather wood for their fire and food for Linda’s evening meal.

One day about a month into their daily routine Linda caught Lt. Berry in the jungle, masturbating. She silently crept up on him as he stroked his cock, lying on his back, eyes closed and moaning. She watched him for a moment then leveled a kick at his overly sensitive nutsack. The boots she was wearing (Berry’s) were much too large for her girlish feet but deliver a painful smash to Berry’s balls. He howled in agony as the comely nurse kicked again and again.

“You…” KICK “Are…” KICK “Never…” KICK “To…” KICK “Do…” KICK “That…” KICK “Again!” shouted Linda before stomping down on Berry’s swelled nutsack. “Do you understand me?” she asked as she ground the tip of her boot into him.

Berry managed a weak, “yes, pl…” before the sickening ‘pop’ of his exploded testicle sent him reeling into unconsciousness. Linda smiled at what she had done and stripped over the prostrate soldier. She fingered herself to a mind-shattering orgasm then walked triumphantly back to her shelter, leaving Berry in the jungle. It was hours before Berry limped back to their camp. When she noticed he was empty-handed, she greeted him with a backhand that sent him to the ground. Berry never masturbated again after that day, though his cock ached for release.

Evenings were spent (by Berry) cooking whatever small game he could catch, serving Linda then feasting on her scraps. Often Linda would have Berry give her a full body massage, knowing what it would do to his already over-stressed libido. Caressing her 19-year-old body made Berry’s cock rigid even on his most weakened days. Linda would playfully swat at or kick his member always making sure not to allow him to blow his load. “Medical experts,” she would say, “know that release of semen depletes your energy and you need all you can get.” Berry would resign himself to her will and sleep frustrated every night.

This went on for nearly three months until one day when Linda was jogging down the beach. Suddenly she heard from the overgrowth, “Halt! Who goes there?” She turned slowly to see a Marine she had never seen before, brandishing an automatic that was leveled at her head. Linda sized him up immediately. He was about 5’11” and 170 pounds. She knew that she could take him easily but he had the drop on her. It took her only a moment to compose herself then she fell down to her knees in front of the surprised soldier.

“Oh thank God you’re here,” Linda wailed. “We thought we would die out here! Are you part of the rescue party?”

The Marine holstered his gun; obviously, this weeping girl was no threat to him. “Rescue party? No, we were dispatched to this island to look for Japs. Our ship will be arriving to pick us up in just a couple of days. Why do you need a rescue? Were you shot down? We heard there was a lot of action going on around here about four-five months ago but nothing lately. How many more are with you?”

Linda ignored his question but followed with one of her own. “You said ‘we were dispatched’; how many others are there?

“Just four, including me. The Marines have been sending small units to all the islands in the area looking for Jap strongholds and…”

“And is your camp nearby?” Linda interrupted.

“Just about a mile to the south; I’ll take you there. Were there any other surviv…?”

“So, four big, strong Marines,” Linda interrupted again. “And I suppose if you got me safely back at your camp you would want a little favor in return…?” She looked directly at the bulge formed in the soldier’s pants.

“W-what?” stammered the Marine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ll just bet you don’t,” replied an obviously angry Linda. She thrust her fist up into the Marine’s groin. He fell to the ground wriggling in pain, his eyes wide-open with surprise. Linda pounced on him, striking his balls over and over again. She stood up and kicked him in the side. “You men are all alike!”

The Marine tried to block out the pain as he reached for his holstered weapon. Linda was too quick for him, smashing his hand under her tiny foot, smiling as she heard bones snap. The soldier screamed like a wounded animal. Linda knew that might alert the rest of his squadron so she swiftly shot a kick to the side of his head. It had the desired effect; he was out like a light.

Linda stood completely still, listening for sounds of oncoming Marines. When, after a minute or so, she heard nothing she put her attention back to the comatose man at her feet. She knew he would die, but how? Since she was in no immediate danger of discovery, she decided to have some fun. She stripped him naked then ripped a length of cloth from his shirt. She tied it around his mouth as a gag so he couldn’t yell for reinforcements (no need to take chances). His shoelaces were used to tie his hands behind his back. Linda stepped back, pleased with her work, then splashed some warm ocean water onto his face.

The soldier sputtered and awakened. Linda jumped back and assumed a crouch position, ready for fighting. The Marine assessed his situation. His head, balls and right hand were burning with pain; he was gagged; he was naked and his hands were tied. There was a stunningly beautiful, but quite probably insane, woman standing by him looking for a fight. There was only one thing to do. He struggled to his feet and stared at Linda. She was bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet waiting for him to make his move.

Suddenly he bolted for the jungle! Linda, expecting an offensive move, was surprised. The Marine had a good twenty feet on her before she could even move. She sprinted up the sand, her long legs quickly bridging the distance between them. Just as he reached the edge of the jungle, Linda reached him. She grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked backwards. He fell immediately down to the ground. Linda kept her hold on his hair and pulled him back down the beach. The Marine had no choice but to go with her, walking backwards, his head held aloft by her powerful grip.

When they reached their original starting point, Linda threw him down to the ground. She sat down on his chest, looked into his eyes and said, “Coward. You don’t even deserve a man’s death.” She cupped her right hand over his mouth tightly and pinched his nose with her left. As his air supply dwindled, the dying soldier attempted to buck Linda off his chest. She laughed cruelly as each undulation brought her closer to orgasm. In short order, the bucking stopped and the man was still. Linda held her grip for another minute, savoring her orgasm, making sure the man was dead.

She grabbed the corpse by its hair and pulled it out into the ocean. When the tide took the body away, she ran back onto the shore and buried the soldier’s uniform and weapon. There were still three Marines left on the island (not including Berry) and she was limited in the amount of time she would have to dispatch them. She quickly formulated a plan in her head and set off into the jungle.

Heading south towards where the now-deceased Marine had said their base camp was Linda moved quickly yet quietly through the foliage. She listened intently for any signs of the other soldiers and less than fifteen minutes into her trek she heard voices coming her way. She lay down on the jungle floor, pretending to be asleep and waited for their arrival. It wasn’t much longer until she was discovered. She heard what sound like two distinct voices coming closer and soon those voices were right near her.

“Holy smokes sarge! It’s a lady!” came one of the voices, in a young-sounding Midwestern accent.

“I can see that McIntyre,” went the other voice, deep and husky. “But what the hell is she doing here? And is she alive?”

Linda felt a hand reach down and pick up hers. Fingers felt for a pulse.

“She’s alive sarge! What should we do?”

“Well see if you can wake her up, McIntyre.”

Linda’s arm dropped to the ground and her body was shaken by McIntyre. Linda feigned unconsciousness for a few moments then slowly opened her eyes.

“W-what… w-who are you?” she stammered in mock fear.

“It’s okay lady,” replied McIntyre. “We’re the U.S. Marines. We’re here to help you.”

Linda took her first good look at McIntyre. He was skinny, maybe 150 pounds soaking wet. She estimated from her seated position that he was around 5’8” and no older than 20. In fact, he may have been younger than Linda.

“You’re alright miss,” came the other voice. “Now how about you tell us how you got here.”

Linda turned and saw the largest black man she had ever seen. Well over 275 pounds and a muscular 6’4” tall. His uniform read ‘Blake’. She got over her initial shock at his size and related her tale of the Zero attack and the crash landing on the water near the island. She left out the part about Berry surviving as well, of course.

When she finished Blake said, “That’s quite a story lady. But don’t you worry; we’ll get you home safe and sound. As soon as McIntyre and I find Hudson, we’ll take you back to our camp and our ride home will be along soon.”

“Who’s Hudson?” asked Linda.

“Oh, he’s the other guy in our search party,” replied McIntyre. “We’re looking for Japs and we sent him ahead and now we think he’s lost.”

“That fool’s always getting lost or screwin’ up sumthin’,” continued Blake. “I swear he’s gonna get himself killed one of these days…”

Linda smiled to herself, thinking about the Marine’s body floating out with the current. Then, just as quickly, she brought herself back to the task at hand. She figured she would have to split up this pair if she was to have any chance of taking them out. Blake would have to go first. She got up and dusted herself off making sure the Marines got a good eyeful of her as she stretched her youthful body. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see they were impressed.

Blake pretended not to notice. “C’mon, I think he went this way.” They headed back down the way Linda had come, back where she had killed Hudson. As they walked, Linda held tightly to Blake’s massive arm, clinging to him for support. Blake couldn’t help but to look down at where Linda was strategically displaying her cleavage. In turn, Linda couldn’t help but notice the bulge starting to form in the Marine’s pants.

Linda knew he best chance to take out the burly soldier would be in the jungle so she had to act before they reached the beach. “I think I heard something,” she stated suddenly.

“What? I didn’t hear nothing,” said McIntyre.

“No, I’m sure I heard something back over there,” she stared directly into Blake’s eyes, her tiny hand rubbing gently against the swelling at Blake’s crotch. She mouthed to him silently, “Send him away…”

“Uh, yeah,” replied Blake. “I, uh, think I heard something too. Why don’t you go over there and, uh, check it out… and take your time…”

“Well okay sarge, if you say so…” McIntyre trudged off into the jungle and Linda smiled. Everything was going according to her plan. As soon as the younger Marine was out of sight, she put her full attention on Blake.

She reached her hand into his pants and grabbed hold of his massive member. Blake followed her gladly as she walked back from where they had come. When she was sure McIntyre was long out of sight, Linda pushed Blake up against a tree and ripped his uniform shirt off. She stepped back and admired his well-muscled physique with seemingly not an ounce of fat on him. Trailing her finger down his chest to his stomach only served to make his enormous erection stand out even further.

“Tell me, Sgt. Blake, when was the last time you had a woman?” she asked coyly.

“Well, I haven’t seen my wife in over a year-and-a-half,” he responded.

“And is that the last time you got any?”

“Well… no… A few times with prostitutes… But that was mostly blow-jobs, so that doesn’t really count…”

“And is that what you want from me?” Linda asked as she slowly pulled down the Marine’s pants.

“Oh… God… Yes…” Blake stammered out. Linda went to her knees in front of him.

“And you’re sure your wife won’t mind this?” she asked as she engulfed the head of his cock with her lips.

“N-no, she won’t ever know,” said Blake as Linda’s tongue snaked across the underside of his shaft. Linda nearly gagged on the massive tool but knew it wouldn’t be for long. She attempted a smile then bit down with all off her might.

“Aaaiiighh!!!” screamed Blake as her pushed Linda away. “What the fuck are you doing, you crazy bitch?” As the large Marine checked his bleeding member for damage, he never saw Linda’s right foot come up into his unprotected nutsack. Blake let out a high-pitched yelp and dropped to his knees. Linda knew she couldn’t let up her attack and she shot a round kick to his head that snapped it back into the tree behind him. There was a sickening ‘crack’ and Blake fell face forward into the ground before him.

Linda smiled at the rather quick work she had made of the huge Marine; she really thought he would be more of a challenge. Her satisfaction was short-lived however as she heard the sounds of McIntyre returning to her position.

When McIntyre reached them, he saw his sergeant lying facedown in the short grass. He pulled out his revolver and pointed it at Linda, his hand shaking nervously.

“What happened? What did you do to him?” the young man demanded.

Linda immediately shifted to her scared little girl routine. “He… he tried to rape me,” she sobbed. “And when I tried to run, he tripped over his own pants and hit his head on a rock.” McIntyre lowered his gun as the beautiful nurse sauntered over to him. She opened up her uniform shirt, nearly exposing both of her breasts. “He said… he said he was going to… suck on these… and then… and then… he was going to…” Linda fell into the youthful Marine’s arms, weeping.

McIntyre was unsure of what he should do, help his unconscious, injured sergeant, or help the distraught, young nurse. As Linda wept, she sized up McIntyre. He was barely out of his teens, didn’t look to be very strong and, she decided, was worthy of a quick and (relatively) painless death. She gripped McIntyre by the head and kissed him deeply, her tongue wrapping around his. Releasing the kiss, she guided him down to her breasts where she held him tightly.

McIntyre had never been with a beautiful woman, or any woman for that matter, and had no idea what to do. He did know that he enjoyed being between her two perfect breasts though. Linda held him there not moving and, after a short while, McIntyre began having trouble breathing. Linda clutched him tightly to her and there was no room for any air to get in. McIntyre started to panic. He struggled to get free, but Linda’s grip was tight. Soon, his oxygen supply was exhausted and he passed out. Linda grabbed him by the head, kissed his pale blue lips then snapped his neck with one quick twist.

The pity Linda felt was quickly overwhelmed by the intense orgasm she felt at the death of another Marine. She was considering what to do with the bodies when she heard a noise from Blake. He wasn’t dead yet!

She walked over to his prostate form and stood over him, thinking about her options. She could kill him easily right now in his debilitated state… but where was the challenge in that? She examined Blake’s body; he had a welt on the back of his head the size of a silver dollar. With some effort, she removed his uniform and flipped him onto his back. There was some blood coming from his now-broken nose from where Linda had kicked him earlier. His cock had stopped bleeding and, strangely, was still somewhat rigid. Linda kicked at it lightly with her bare foot and it responded by pulsing slightly.

She continued to manipulate his member with her toes, bringing back his full erection. Linda marveled at its size. She noticed, by placing her foot down firmly on it, that his cock was roughly the length of her entire foot. Linda decided to see how close she could come to bringing the large black man to orgasm before awakening him. She stripped off her uniform, leaving both of them naked, and stroked the underside of his dick with her dainty foot. Soon she felt his ballsack start to tense up underneath her heel and she knew he was ready to cum. She ceased her rubbing and bent down at Blake’s face.

“Blake… Blake, honey… wake up,” she said soothingly. When he didn’t respond, she slapped him roughly several times across his face. Finally, he started to stir.

“Wh… what happened?” he said groggily.

Linda whispered in his ear, “I beat you unconscious… and now I’m going to kill you.”

Blake shook off the cloudiness in his head, remembering the events of a few moments ago. He focused his eyes on Linda, now standing over him, her arms akimbo, defiant and nude. Blake realized that he also was nude, and that he had an enormous erection that was ready to shoot. He vaulted to his feet, not knowing what to do.

“You’re crazy, bitch! Ain’t no way I’m having anything to do with you!” he said, staring down at her lithesome body. Linda walked a few steps towards him, her body almost touching his. Blake stepped back and Linda laughed.

“Oh, is the big, bad Marine afraid of little ol’ me?” She continued to walk to Blake and he continued to back up. “C’mon Blake,” she said, poking his chest. “Afraid to take on a little girl?” Blake had no idea what was wrong with the lovely nurse and didn’t want to find out. He kept on backing up until, at last, he tripped over a mound in the jungle’s undergrowth. He soon realized, to his shock, that it was the body of McIntyre.

“What the hell did you do to him?” he asked horrified.

“The same thing I’m going to do to you… after I’ve had a little fun, that is.” She scampered away leaving Blake with the body of his fallen comrade. The anger welled up inside the Marine and he leapt up and chased after the nimble nurse. It didn’t take long for him to catch up to her. When he reached her, he grabbed her from behind, lifting her up in a massive bear hug. Linda was still laughing as he tried to squeeze the life out of her.

She reached down between her legs where Blake’s tool was jutting out below her moist pussy lips. Grasping it firmly in both hands, she proceeded to pummel his nutsack repeatedly with the heels of her feet. Blake held on for as long as he could but soon the pain forced him to drop his prey.

Linda, on the other hand, did not release her grip. She deftly flipped her body over, still holding on to Blake’s rod. When she landed on the ground she yanked at his dick roughly, causing him to shoot his seed in an arc about six feet past Linda. Knowing that he was now in a weakened and confused state, she let go of his now-withering member and began to shoot punches at Blake’s spent balls.

Blake couldn’t take the abuse for very long and fell to his knees trying to cover himself up. Linda sprang up from the ground and leveled a knee at Blake’s face, sending him reeling back down to the ground. Before he could even think of trying to recover, Linda was on top of him. She sat on his chest, pinning his arms to the jungle floor with her strong legs. With her left hand, she throttled his throat and her right came down again and again into the mess that was once his face. Blake tried to beg her to stop, but all that came through the blood, split lips and broken teeth were gurgling sounds.

Linda felt a surge of adrenaline as wave after wave of orgasm overtook her. She knew that Blake was near death and a few blows would finish him but she wanted to destroy him a little bit more first. She rolled off his body and positioned herself between his legs. Gripping one testicle in each hand, she placed her feet underneath his scrotum, using Blake’s body as her leverage.

She stretched herself out pulling Blake’s battered balls with her. Blake tried to scream, but to no avail. Mustering all of her strength Linda pulled the sack to its limit. She dug her sharp nails down deep and started to feel the sack give way.

Suddenly Linda was on her back, a spray of blood shooting from Blake’s groin and two severed testicles in her hands. She inspected them for a few moments, rolling them around with her fingers. When she tired of this, she squeezed them as hard as she could, feeling them pop, one after another, and letting the pulp run out of her fist.

Moments later Linda regained her composure and went over to inspect Blake. He had blacked out from the pain and would certainly soon die from blood loss but Linda would have none of that. She lifted her foot high above Blake’s mess of a face and brought it down swiftly. There was a sickening crunch and Blake stopped breathing.

Linda smiled as she surveyed the damage she had caused. McIntyre lay in a crumpled heap and Blake was a bloody, destroyed mess. Linda’s own body was none the worse for wear but it was nearly covered with Blake’s blood. Her uniform, lying over by a tree, looked to be relatively clean so she scooped it up and headed back to the ocean to clean herself up.

Leaving her clothes on the shore, she jumped into the warm waters of the Pacific and rubbed her lithe body with the salt water, cleaning off the Marine’s blood. She began to giggle thinking about the expressions, the sheer terror she had seen in the soldiers’ face just before she killed them. Destroying Berry’s will these last few months had been fun, but it was nothing compared to the exhilarating rush that came with the utter defeat and destruction of those poor men.

She completed her washing and headed back up the shore to fetch her uniform. Her body glistened in the late afternoon sun and she was positively aglow with her victories. Just before she reached her clothes a man stepped out of the jungle, a gun pointed directly at her. The fourth Marine.

Linda had nearly forgotten all about him in her excitement. She sized him up immediately. He was an older man, looked to be in about his mid-40s. He was about six feet tall and probably a bit over 200 pounds. She could tell by the gold leaf on his uniform that he was a Major. His nametag read Saunders. Despite his age, he looked to be in fairly good shape and his face showed the lines of a man that had been in more than a few combat situations. His steel-blue eyes stared Linda down unwaveringly and his gun hand was steady.

Linda immediately went into her frightened woman routine. “Thank God you’re here! I thought I was the only one on this island. Are you with a rescue party?”

“Can it sister,” the gruff Marine replied. “I saw what you did to my men back there and I’m taking you in. Next time clean up your bloody footprints if you want to try to pull something like that.”

Linda was take aback initially but quickly changed her story. “But… but… you don’t understand. They were going to rape me and they got into a fight over who would go first and…”

“Not going to work honey. I know McIntyre and he wouldn’t harm a woman, probably not even a Jap one. And Blake’s saved Mac’s life so many times that I know he wouldn’t fight to the death with him… not even over a pretty little filly like you. Now I’m taking you back to camp. As soon as my transport gets here they’ll take you into custody and you’ll get yourself a full military trial followed by a nice execution.”

“But… but, I didn’t…” Linda could see it was useless to try to reason (fool) the Major so she acquiesced. She started over to pick up her uniform.

“Uh-uh missy,” said Saunders, following her with his pistol. “I don’t know what you’ve got in there and I don’t know how you took out two of my men (he obviously didn’t know about Hudson) but I’m gonna keep you just like that until I can get you in a secure area.”

Linda shrugged and moved towards the Marine. He quickly circled around her, keeping his gun trained and enough space between them that Linda couldn’t risk an assault.

“Okay sweetheart, march!” Linda had no choice but to do what the Major ordered and she headed back into the jungle. Their entire walk she kept looking for some way to distract or overpower Saunders but he was a cagey veteran and he gave her no opportunities. She could see smoke nearby and knew they must have been very close to the Marines’ camp.

There was a noise behind them, a branch snapping and a rustle of leaves.

“Hudson! Is that you? Get over here! I need your help!” A few moments later, some of the brush opened up and out walked Lt. Berry, clad only in his underwear. Saunders turned and pointed the gun at this new fellow, figuring that this must be the woman’s accomplice, after all, there was no way a woman could do all that damage.

That was what Linda was waiting for. She bolted towards Saunders. He turned and swung the pistol towards the small nurse, just as she leapt into the air. With a perfectly timed kick, the gun flew out of his hands and somewhere into the undergrowth. Now Linda figured she had the advantage.

She landed expertly in a crouch and threw a fist at Saunders’ crotch. He deftly blocked it and countered with a chop aimed at Linda’s head. She rolled out of the way and spun up to her feet. Both combatants stood in ready positions eyeing each other warily.

At the same moment, each of them attacked. Neither blow connected, as their expertise seemed evenly matched. They continued to launch attack after attack at each other but to no avail. Linda used her speed and flexibility to avoid nearly all of Saunders’ punches and Saunders’ skill kept Linda at bay.

They circled each other again and then Linda saw an opening. She feinted a punch at his head and, when Saunders went to block it, she shot a kick to his exposed rib cage, which connected soundly. Saunders let out a moan and Linda smiled. This old guy was tough but she had finally weakened him.

Again they circled and again Linda tried the same move. This time when she connected, she heard one of the Marine’s ribs crack. She decided to try again. Another fake head shot, another kick, but this time Saunders was ready. As soon as her leg struck (with a blinding flash of pain for him), he grabbed her and threw her down to the ground.

The air rushed out of the young girl as Saunders’ bulk came crashing down on top of her. Still, he was injured with a cracked, maybe broken, rib so she did not panic. Saunders attempted to punch Linda in the face but she was able to block with some ease. She scratched at the Marine’s face, drawing some blood, but he seemed not to notice or care. He grabbed her right wrist and pinned it to the ground, limiting Linda’s punch ability. Suddenly an idea came to her. She wrapped her powerful legs around Saunders’ torso and began to squeeze with all her might. The pain in his side was magnified immeasurably but the Major knew he couldn’t let that stop him. Linda started laughing with delight and Saunders raised his fist to smash in her pretty face.

“BLAM!”

A shot rang out in the otherwise peaceful jungle and both fighters stopped and looked to see what it was.

Lt. Berry had found Saunders’ pistol and was pointing it, first at Saunders, then at Linda, back and forth, back and forth…

Saunders reluctantly got of Linda and stood, his hands in the air. Linda followed suit, not knowing what was going through Berry’s mind. As the barrel of the gun shifted from one to another Linda was the first to speak.

“Shoot him Berry! That’s an order!” she screamed out.

Saunders was much calmer. “Listen son. This woman just killed two Marines and I’m taking her into custody.”

“Berry! Do it!”

“I don’t know what she’s done to you, boy, but it’s time to be a soldier. Now give me that gun.”

“Berry,” Linda said softly. “Shoot him and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted.” She rubbed her sweaty, dirty body up and down. “Do it and this is all yours.”

“Son! Do your duty as an American!” Saunders ordered.

Linda licked her lips and smiled.

Thoughts raced through Berry’s head. He had no idea what to do. Should he do the ‘right thing’ and give up Linda or should he submit to the will of the beautiful young nurse. His mind swirled and his gun arm dropped.

Both Linda and Saunders rushed towards Lt. Berry.

“BLAM!” Rang out another shot.

Berry looked down and saw the smoking gun in his hand.

Saunders looked down and saw the gaping hole in his gut.

Linda calmly took the gun away.

She watched as Saunders writhed in pain. She walked up to him at put the gun to his temple.

“BANG!” she yelled, giggling as Saunders flinched. Berry was still standing in his place, unmoving, in a state of shock. With some effort she dragged Saunders over to the nearest tree and sat him up, making sure he could see what was to happen.

She sauntered over to Lt. Berry and dropped to her knees in front of him. Pulling down his underwear, his penis was flaccid, probably from fear or surprise. She fondled his scrotum, squeezing the pulpy mass that was once one of Berry’s testicles and then engulfed his cock with her mouth.

It didn’t take long for the Lieutenant to become fully rigid inside her warm, moist mouth. Linda licked and sucked up and down the shaft, occasionally stealing glances at the hapless Major who watched everything as he was painfully bleeding to death.

When she had had enough, she pulled Berry down to the ground and laid him on his back. She mounted him easily; her cunt was as moist as his cock. Berry was still in a stupor but knew what was going on. He bucked his hips up in time with hers, penetrating her deeply. She rode him like an expert, bringing herself to orgasm twice. Every time she could feel he was ready to blow, she slowed, controlling him, making him last longer.

Finally, as she neared a third orgasm, she knew he could hold it no longer. She stopped moving allowing Berry to thrust with all his might. Coolly she picked up the pistol that was next to them and aimed it at Saunders. She waited for the moment just before Berry was going to cum and pulled the trigger.

Berry exploded into her just as Saunders’ head exploded into a fine red mist. Linda collapsed onto Berry as she experienced the most mind-numbing orgasm of her life. She lay on top of him; the only sound their breathing, for nearly five minutes.

Over the next two days, Linda supervised while Lt. Berry buried Linda’s newest conquests. Although it wasn’t really necessary, she got a perverse thrill out of pointing the gun at the hapless soldier while he worked and occasionally clicking the now-empty weapon. She refused to let Berry mark the graves in any way preferring to masturbate herself to climax over each filled grave as she relived the experiences in her mind and Berry stood and watched.

The Marines’ camp was low on supplies and Linda knew their pick-up would be coming soon. She also knew she couldn’t let Berry get on that transport ship with her. She could kill him easily enough. There was plenty of guns and ammunition at the Marines’ camp and she certainly wouldn’t have had any difficulty in taking out the young man in hand-to-hand combat but she wanted a little something different.

She decided that she would make Berry one final meal. He was surprised to see her cook; up until now he had done all of the cooking (and cleaning and whatever other chores there were to be done). As Berry set the table in the Marine’s camp, he never noticed Linda slipping the drugs into his food. They sat down to eat and the young nurse was positively beaming.

“Those Marines’ transport ship should be here any day now. You must be excited to be going home,” Linda said with glee. Berry was taken aback again. Nurse Colville had never really talked to him before, just barked out orders, which he dutifully followed.

“Uh, yeah, uh, I guess so,” he replied. Linda smiled. She knew anyone else would kill to get off this godforsaken island but this young Marine was so subjugated to her will that he didn’t know what to think.

“Too bad you’re not going,” she stated matter-of factly. Berry gulped. He knew this moment was coming. She was going to kill him. He thought quickly. He knew he couldn’t beat her. Maybe he could run. Run and hide until the transport ship arrived. He bolted from his seat and ran towards the jungle. But something wasn’t right. His feet weren’t moving like they were supposed to. In addition, he was feeling lethargic, tired, like he was moving in quicksand. He turned and saw Linda walking towards him, laughing. Then everything went black.

Sometime later (hours, days?) Berry awoke in the middle of the jungle. As his head cleared, he couldn’t believe he was still alive. He got his bearings and ran to the Marines’ campsite. His first thought was to look around for the cruel, young nurse but she was nowhere to be found. In fact, the entire camp was nowhere to be found. Everything, the tents, the supplies, the guns, was gone save for a small box sitting in the middle of what was the campsite.

Berry picked up the box and read the note attached: “Dearest Lt. Berry, while you were sleeping, the transport ship arrived. You were looking so peaceful I didn’t have the heart to wake you. Besides, I couldn’t have you telling stories about me to those other big, bad Marines, now could I? I’ll always remember our time together. Love, Nurse Colville XOXOXO P.S. I left you a present. I’m sure you’ll know what to do with it.”

Berry threw the note down and opened up the box. Inside were a service revolver and a single bullet. Berry knew he had no options. There was little food on the island and, without quinine, malaria would soon infect him. He put the bullet into the chamber, spun it around and placed the barrel in his mouth.

“CLICK.” The sound resonated in Berry’s ears as tears streamed down his face.

“CLICK.” He muttered a silent curse.

“BLAM!” The young lieutenant was no more. His lifeless body slumped to the ground; his head oozing blood.

Two hundred yards away Linda Colville sat watching the Marine take his own life, through a pair of binoculars. Her other hand busily penetrated her moist box and her orgasm coming only moments after Berry’s shot rang out.

Breathing heavily, she decided to take a dip in the ocean. She was covered was sweat and needed to cool off. As she approached the water’s edge, she spied in the distance a large grey ship. She grinned. Her story was now straight – how Berry had raped her, killed the other Marines and then despondently committed suicide.

As she washed off her smooth skin, she thought to herself, “I wonder how many big, strong Marines are on that ship…”

The Jenna Sosa Story

Woman kicks cop in groin, lands in jail
THE JOURNAL NEWS
(Original publication: October 13, 2006)
PEEKSKILL - After a police officer stopped Jenna Sosa for blasting her car stereo and driving with a suspended license, she could have gone to the police station, where she would have been charged, processed and released.
But instead, the 20-year-old Peekskill woman kicked Officer Christopher Vazeos several times in the groin, sending him to the hospital and herself off to the county jail, Detective Sgt. Eric Johansen said today.
The incident began around 12:20 p.m. yesterday on the 1000 block of Park Street when Vazeos pulled Sosa over because she was playing her car stereo too loud, police said.
He ran a check on her driver's license, which showed that it was suspended, a misdemeanor, police said. Vazeos then placed Sosa in the back of his cruiser to bring to the station for processing.
While Sosa was in the cruiser, Vazeos saw her talking on her cell phone. When he tried to take it away, she kicked him several times in the groin, sending him to the Hudson Valley Hospital Center, police said.
He'll miss at least a week of work, Johansen said.
Police charged Sosa with second-degree assault, a felony, third-degree aggravated unlicensed operation of a motor vehicle, a misdemeanor, and violating a city ordinance on loud car stereos.
She was arraigned in City Court and sent without bail to the county jail.
"Had Sosa behaved as one would have expected, she likely would have been released from custody after receiving a couple of tickets." Johansen said in a release issued this morning.
"Instead, she decided to escalate the situation by assaulting a police officer causing him to be removed from duty, and is now sitting in the County Jail pending a future appearance."

by number2

Jenna sped down the road, the new Justin Timberlake hit blaring out of her red convertible’s customized car stereo. She was headed to pick up her best friend Tina then they were going out for a night out at her favorite club for a little drinking, a little dancing and, if she felt like it, an unforgettable night for one (or two) lucky guys.

She touched up her lip-gloss in the rearview mirror, not an easy task to do with her long brunette hair whipping in the wind. Too late, she saw the telltale red-and-blue lights behind her.

“Shit!” she exclaimed. She had recently lost her license, a natural occurrence for a girl who loved to drive fast. She knew how to deal with this. As she reluctantly pulled over to the side of the road, she undid the top two buttons of her silk blouse. After she shut off her engine, she hiked up her already too-short skirt exposing most of her tanned and toned legs.

Officer Vazeos had seen this all too often. Another spoiled daddy’s girl with a graduation present car and a stereo that cost more than his month’s salary.

“License and registration,” he mumbled even before looking at the girl in the car.

“Here you are officer,” Jenna said sweetly. “Is there some sort of problem?” Reaching for the IDs the frazzled officer finally saw the woman he had pulled over. Simply put, she was the hottest woman he had ever seen. Her heaving breasts were barely contained by her top and her skirt was so short he thought he could see ‘something’ in-between her impossibly long legs.

“Um, ah, yeah,” he stammered. “Your, um, stereo was uh, way too loud.”

Jenna beamed. He was right where she wanted him. “I’m sooooo sorry,” she cooed. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Uh, mmm, okay,” the hapless officer mumbled. “Let me, um, just run your license and I’ll let you go with a warning, I guess.” He stumbled back to his car, his raging hard-on straining at the front of his pleated pants.

Jenna sat in her car and steamed. She knew if he checked her suspended license, she was fucked.

Moments later, he came back to her car. “Miss Sosa, I’m afraid your license is showing up as suspended. Please get out of the car. I need to book you down at the station.

Jenna sighed, grabbed her purse and stepped out of her car. Officer Vazeos nearly had to bite his lip as her looked over her perfect form. In her six-inch clear platform heels, she was almost as tall as he was and when she brushed her perfect, young ass against him, he almost shot a load.

She calmly entered the back of his car and crossed her legs, resigning herself to the fact that she was going to be booked. It wasn’t the first time and she knew he daddy would be right down to bail her out. As the door closed, she remembered Tina; she had to call her and let her know what had happened.

She took he cell out of her purse and hit “2” on the speed dial. Just then, Officer Vazeos decided to steal one more quick glimpse at the vixen he had ‘captured’.

“Um, miss, no phone calls until we get to the station,” he said through the window.

“Just one quick call to my friend to let her know I won’t be coming…”

Officer Vazeos opened the back door. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist,” he said reaching for the phone.

Jenna swung her legs onto the seat trying to hold off the rude policeman. Not unexpectedly, she saw his huge boner as he moved in closer.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “You’re trying to rape me!” Before the officer could say or do anything, Jenna thrust her platform heel into his groin, sending him sprawling backwards out of the car.

Jenna tried to get out of the car using the door behind her but it was locked. She shimmied across the seat to the open door and jumped out, only to be met by a barely recovered Officer Vazeos. He grabbed her, but in his weakened state was no match for her fiery Latin temper. She wheeled him around, shoved him against his own patrol car and shot two hard knees up into his ballsack before letting him fall to the ground.

“You thought I was a defenseless little girl you could have your way with!” she spat at him. “Well now who’s defenseless?”

Meanwhile, the call to Tina had gone through and through the garbled conversation she had made out the word ‘rape’ and quickly called 911.

Jenna heard the approaching sirens and smiled. This rapist cop was going to get what was coming to him.

Through a haze, Officer Vazeos tried to cope with what had happened. He wasn’t sure what was worse – the humiliation he was sure to suffer at the station house or that fact that he was so turned on by being destroyed by a hot 20-year-old. He looked through watery eyes to see Jenna standing before him, hands on hips, saying something he couldn’t make out. He reached out towards her, unable to speak.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Jenna thought. “This son of bitch wants more. Fine then. I’ll give him some more.” She strode confidently around the officer on his hands and knees and eyed the space between his legs. With all the power she could muster, she swung her legs forward, feeling his testicles crush up against the top of her foot before he went flying forward, collapsing on his face.

Just then, the other officers arrived. Seeing one of their own on the ground, they had no choice but to arrest Jenna and book her on aggravated assault charges. Officer Vazeos was sent home for a week to recuperate (but mostly what he did was masturbate to the thought of Jenna smashing his balls).

Happy Honeymoon

By number2

As the plane taxied down the runway to its final destination in the beautiful Hawaiian Islands, it was hard to say who was more excited, Patrick, or his ravishing new bride Melissa.

Theirs had been a storybook romance. Somehow Patrick had won the heart of this stunning brunette after years of trying. Not that she had any lack of suitors. In fact almost every eligible male had made an attempt to woo her, only to be shot down. She had been on dates before Patrick, many, in fact. But her vow to remain chaste until after her wedding scared most of them off. Patrick was steadfast. He was in love and would wait until she was ready. He knew he would never meet a woman like this again.

They had both decided, actually Melissa decided and Patrick agreed, to wait until their honeymoon night in Maui to actually consummate their love. Patrick, who had had sex with two girls prior to dating Melissa, could hardly stand the wait but knew the experience would be all the better for it.

Melissa was anxious for the evening as well. She was far from a prude, but she wanted her first time to be special, and she couldn’t think of a more special place to lose her virginity.

They checked into their luxurious hotel, unpacked and went to check out the place. The scenery was magnificent and Melissa quickly spotted a restaurant overlooking the ocean. She decided they would eat there that night, then head up to their room for their first night of passion.

The evening couldn’t come soon enough for either of them. They spent the day relaxing on the beach, Melissa in a black-and-white polka dotted bikini and Patrick in long surfer shorts that he hoped hid his near-constant erection. As night approached they went upstairs to shower and change. Melissa still would not let her new husband see her naked body until she was ready to “give herself fully to him”. When she finally emerged from the bathroom, she was clad in a tight green strapless evening gown, split open on the sides and a pair of 4-inch black heels. Patrick had to restrain himself from jumping on her right there and then.

Their meal was spectacular, but Patrick was so focused on what would happen later that he barely ate his sumptuous meal. Melissa, on the other hand, enjoyed her steak and lobster slowly, savoring every morsel. Their waiter, a large handsome Samoan who went by the name of Manny, nearly spilled the wine he was pouring onto Patrick’s lap, intent as he was on staring down Melissa’s ample cleavage. He wasn’t the only man who noticed her. Just about every guy in the restaurant had snuck a peek at the hottest woman there.

Finally the time had come. Patrick paid the bill and Melissa took him by the hand, guiding him to the elevator. Despite her lack of experience, she would be the director of the evening’s doings.

She led him into the room and had him sit on the bed. He watched as she slowly performed a strip-tease in front of him, revealing every inch of her newly tanned body. She bent down and kissed him then slithered onto the bed next to him. Patrick nearly ripped his own clothes to shreds as he stripped out of them and dove onto the bed next to his wife.

What followed was, to Melissa, one of the most unpleasant experiences of her young life. Patrick clumsily mounted his wife in the standard missionary position and began to pound into her with all the force his body could muster. Melissa gave him all the customary “oohs” and “ahhs” she felt she was expected to, but in reality felt no excitement.

Moments later an over-excited Patrick pulled out of her and ejaculated onto the bed sheets. Gasping and sweating, he whispered out, “Oh God, baby. That was incredible. You are the best.”

Melissa sighed uncontentedly and returned the compliment. She had her from her girlfriends that usually the first time wasn’t all that great for girls, but it and he would get better.

Unfortunately it did not.

Over the course of the evening, Patrick copulated with his wife four times, each time leaving her more unsatisfied than before. When he finally drifted off to sleep, Melissa wept silently, not believing that this was all there was to sex.

The next morning a refreshed Patrick was up early. He had booked an early morning scuba lesson for the pair and was anxious to get started. Melissa, disappointed over the previous night, didn’t want to do anything. She made up an excuse about the lobster being bad and she felt a little sick but told Patrick that he should go and enjoy himself.

Patrick gave the proper amount of sympathy but finally, at Melissa’s insistence, he left for his lesson. When he was gone, she showered, put on a sun dress and went down to the hotel’s restaurant for some breakfast.

As she picked at her eggs wistfully she heard a somewhat familiar voice above her.

“You don’t look like a happy woman,” came the deep bass.

She was about to tell whoever it was to go away, that she wanted to be alone, when she looked up and recognized their waiter from her honeymoon night dinner.

“Manny, is it?” she asked. He nodded.

“Mind if I sit down?” For some reason Melissa let him. She felt this was the only person she knew on the island, other than Patrick, and she could actually use some company.

“You know, we have a law here in Hawaii,” he started. “Beautiful women such as yourself are not allowed to be unhappy. It gives a bad name to paradise.”

Melissa smiled. She knew it was a line but it was what she needed to hear right now.

“There you go. That’s better,” Manny continued. “Now why don’t you tell me what’s wrong and we’ll fix it.”

Melissa’s frown returned. She couldn’t tell this guy, this complete stranger her problems. Or could she? He didn’t know her. He’d be the safest one to talk to.

She tearfully poured her heart out to the attentive Manny, explaining her virginity and her disappointment. He listened intently and when she was through he put his oversized hand over hers and told her how beautiful she was and how any man, especially after being denied her that long, would have a hard time holding out and that she should talk to her husband and they could work it all out.

“Now go on up to your room, fix your make-up, and make yourself pretty for your husband. Everything is going to be just fine.”

Melissa stopped her sniffling and smiled. “You’ve been such a good listener and friend Manny. Would you walk me up?”

“I’d be happy to.”

Then rode the elevator silently, Melissa dabbing at her running mascara that had leaked down her pretty face. When they arrived at her room, she invited him in, telling him it would only be a minute or so.

Manny sat on the couch while Melissa fixed herself up in the bathroom. Emerging moments later, she was as pretty as she had ever been and Manny gave her polite applause.

“I hate to ask you this,” Melissa said. “But could you do one more favor for me? I need your opinion on something.” Manny nodded and Melissa slipped back into the bathroom.

Minutes later her head peeked out. “Are you ready?” she said playfully.

Manny smiled his ascension.

Melissa threw open the bathroom door and stood there in a nearly sheer white negligee that barely covered her crotch and a pair of matching white heels. Manny gulped.

“I was thinking about wearing this tonight for Patrick. Do you think he’d find it… sexy?”

“L-look, Mrs. Martin, I think…”

“What’s this Mrs. Martin stuff, Manny,” she interrupted. “I thought we were friends.” She sauntered over to the couch, watching the tent in his shorts rise.

“It’s just that… I don’t think… I mean… You just got married!”

Melissa bent down in front of him, exposing nearly all of her breasts. “Manny, I’ve never had a man other that Patrick and I may never have another. I have to know if it gets better. I have to!”

Manny couldn’t take it any longer. He grabbed Melissa by the waist and pulled her in for a deep, wet kiss. Melissa responded in kind and slid her hand down Manny’s shorts. She was amazed at what she felt. Compared to the large Samoan, Patrick was built like a little boy. She pulled down his shorts and watched as the nine inches grew in her hand.

Manny stood and scooped up the small brunette, carrying her over to the bed. He laid her down gently, lifted up the hem of her lingerie and dove into her neatly trimmed bush. Melissa gasped with pleasure as Manny’s talented tongue penetrated her nearly-virginal cunt. As he licked and slurped, she pulled his head in further, nearly yanking out tufts of his hair.

After a few moments he knew that her natural lubricants were starting to flow. Manny stood up and peeled off his clothes, revealing his tanned and well-built body to the already impressed Melissa. She marveled at the size of his man-meat, now fully sized, and he powered his way into her moist clit.

Melissa bit her lower lip as Manny penetrated areas she didn’t know she had. AS he thrust in and out of her, she clawed at his muscular back, knowing how wrong this all was but wanting him more and more.

Without warning the Samoan pulled out of her then effortlessly flipped her over on the bed. He pulled her up by the waist and entered her doggy style to the delight of the surprised bride. Melissa could feel her first ever orgasm start to build when, unexpectedly, she heard the front door of the suite opening.

“Honey, are you here?” came Patrick’s questioning voice. Melissa had to think fast. She still loved Patrick and she couldn’t let their marriage end like this. She slid off an unhappy Manny and ran to the bedroom door.

She cracked it open slightly and peered out. “I’m in here. Don’t come in; I’m working on a surprise for you.”

“Really? A surprise? Let me see.” Patrick strode towards the bedroom.

Melissa squeezed herself through the bedroom door. She couldn’t let her husband in there. Patrick’s eyes bugged out as he saw his new wife’s negligee. “No, honey, not yet. It’s not ready yet.”

“It looks ready to me,” Patrick said lustfully. “Come here baby.” He grabbed Melissa and began kissing her neck. She couldn’t let this go on. She knew he’d want to go into the bedroom.

“No, not yet, please let go of me,” she yelled, trying to extricate herself from his grip.

He held tight and continued slobbering all over her. “C’mon baby, you feel soooo good…” he murmured.

Melissa knew she had to stop this… and soon. She continued trying to pull away from her horny husband but he simply would not let go. Frustrated, and not know what to do, she brought her right knee up swiftly, connecting solidly with her spouse’s nutsack. His grip finally loosened but he still stood. Another lightning fast knee shot up and Patrick went down in a crumpled heap.

“I said ‘let go’!” Melissa shrieked. Patrick lay at his wife’s feet, cupping his sore testicles. “Now stay out here and don’t come in until I tell you to!” she ordered, storming back into the bedroom.

Manny was standing up and gathering his clothes, ready to beat a hasty retreat.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” demanded Melissa.

“Well it’s just… your husband is right outside…” he stammered.

Melissa took a quick look through the crack in the door where she saw Patrick, still in the fetal position, moaning and writhing. “Get your ass back on that bed,” she commanded, pushing the much larger man onto his back. She climbed on top of him and mounted him in a reverse cowgirl position, taking in his full length and keeping an eye on her horizontal husband.

She rode the huge Samoan, whipping her hair about, watching as Patrick tried in vain to get back to his feet. The excitement of her first real fuck, coupled with her dominance over her spouse, brought her to orgasm within moments. Manny was not far behind, shooting his load deep inside the sexual dynamo astride him.

The room was completely silent, save for the heavy breathing. Manny’s now-softening cock slid out of Melissa’s sopping wet cunt and she dismounted the sweat-soaked waiter. Despite the all-over warm feeling she had from her first orgasm, she knew she still had to get Manny out of her room undetected.

She threw Manny his clothes. “Get dressed quickly, I’ve got an idea,” she whispered. She sauntered out of the bedroom found Patrick, now on his knees, facing away from her. She eyed his hanging ballsack and had to stifle a laugh. Compared to the monster that had just been pounding away inside her Patrick’s package could hardly compare. She reared her leg back and took aim…

No, that wouldn’t be fair, she thought. He deserved a chance to get better, if he really wanted to. She put her leg back down and walked past her husband to the couch a few feet away. Spreading her long legs, she beckoned him forward with the crook of a finger. Patrick plodded forward as his new wife pulled up her lingerie and exposed her moist box, pulling apart her lips with her fingers.

“You need to make it up to me for ruining my surprise,” she pouted. Patrick was bewildered; he didn’t know exactly what he had done, but he didn’t want to make his bride unhappy. He dove into her pussy and began to lick, not realizing he was lapping up another man’s spooge. Melissa sighed; he was as bad at oral as he was at regular sex.

Manny peeked his head out the door. Melissa had wrapped her legs tightly around Patrick’s head and he couldn’t see anything. Melissa blew a kiss to her Samoan suitor, mouthed the words ‘thank you’ and watched as he tip-toed out the front door.

“Oh God, oh God,” she fake-moaned to a well-meaning but inefficient Patrick. What was she going to do about this? Maybe with a little training…

to be continued?

Betty and the Burglars

By noriko

"A double, without ice," Darren said to the bartender. Yesterday had been a good day for business, and he was going to celebrate. A few weeks earlier, he had overheard a kid talking about his parents going on holiday for a few weeks, and had been savvy enough to find out the family's address. The stuff they had hauled out that night had to be worth at least 3-4 grand, a TV, a VCR, a brand new computer with all the bells and whistles- that family would sure have a shock when they got back. But hey, they seemed pretty well off judging from the apartment- it wouldn't hurt them too badly, and Darren and his mates had the money to have some fun for a while.

As the barman served up a drink, Darren spotted a woman out of the corner of his eye. She seemed kind of oldish, but she had a really nice chest, and from what he could see her ass didn't look half bad either. Seemed worth a shot, what the hell.

"Yo, barman," said Darren. "Send one of your finest over to the lady." If she accepted it, he'd score tonight.

Sure enough she accepted, and without even looking up. There was something strange about her though. She didn't seem at all interested in anything, like she was in a deep depression or something. And she didn't even acknowledge Darren, to his disgust. Her mind seemed just somewhere else.

Darren had wasted his money though, so he decided he might as well follow through. Mustering up an air of male suavity or something of such sorts, he paced up to the table at which she was sitting.

"Yo, baby," he said in a manly sort of way (he thought). "The name's Darren. What's yours?" The woman didn't even acknowledge his existence, and just kept sipping her drink, the drink that he had bought her. Her eyes were blank, as if focused on some point far away. Darren decided to step it up a few gears (hey, what good was she if she wouldn't give some ass).

"Hey baby, it's a cute booty you got there. How 'bout you give me some of that ass."

The lady's head shot 'round like she had just sat on a pin. "What?" she said icily. "Are you trying to chat me up?"

“Ummm…” was Darren to answer to that. “Well, baby, I was just, um, sort of wondering whether you be lookin' for some male companionship, that's all."

"Because I'm not that kind of girl, shorty. So just leave me alone."

Shorty? Yeah, Darren was short, 5 foot 2 when he wore his tall shoes, but he hated being called shorty. That was what people had called him in school, and hearing the word just about gave him a rash. Anyway, height doesn't matter that much in bed.

"I may be short," shot back Darren, drawing himself up to his full height. "But I've got one thing to tell you. I'm proud to inform you that I have the biggest most enormous goddamn Johnson that you have probably ever seen."

The woman just burst out laughing, because that had been the last thing she had expected to hear. She laughed and laughed, until tears were coming out of the corners of her eyes. Darren didn't see what was so funny, and found the whole thing kind of weird actually, but hey, he had somehow made her laugh. Maybe he had a chance after all.

"I like that shorty," the woman spluttered, trying to stop laughing. "That was good. I like that. But listen, I'm just not that kind of girl. Last time I had sex was in the Summer of Love, 1972."

1972??? No way! Sure she looked a bit oldish, but she didn't look THAT old.

"It's never late to get started again," suggested Darren helpfully.

"Sorry, shorty, but that's just not the way I am. I'm an independent kind of woman. I don't have men in my house, and I like it that way. So you can take you big enormous goddamn Johnson and go." She couldn't hold out anymore and just burst out laughing again.

Single woman living alone eh? Darren was beginning to be interested for a whole new reason. Judging from the way she dressed, she didn't seem too badly off either. He didn't need to tell his mates for this one- this was a job he would keep just for himself. He would get some merchandise with which to finally get the money buy the new Toyota 7-series he had always wanted, and he could get some ass too. Her handbag was open, and a purse was gently peeking out. If he could just… Got it! Everything was A-OK. This job would be a pleasure.

* * * * *

Betty Armstrong, age 52, single, no kids. Some nice looking credit cards, a driver's license, a membership card to a gym (so that's where she kept that boobs and ass firm). And she lived on one of the swishiest streets in town- if she didn't have a big Rottweiler or something in the backyard, this job would be a dream.

Darren's wiener was hard as rock at the thought and he could hardly think straight. He would pounce on her while she was asleep, force her legs apart, and ah... pre-cum was just about oozing from his penis. He couldn't wait one more second. He would do it tonight- right now! Hardly able to walk straight because of his erection, Darren got onto his bike. Betty Armstrong here I come! He was far too pre-occupied with such thoughts to notice the eyes following him from the bushes.

Apple Tree Avenue 43 yes, no mistake about it, this was the place. And a nice house it was too - 2 big floors, a nice garden, no dog and what do you know, there was even a ground-floor window that didn't seem properly locked. Edging it open slowly, Darren crept in.

* * * * *

In the bedroom, Betty Armstrong was lying on her back on the bed, naked as the day she was born. On a TV screen in front of her, a self-defense video was playing. She hadn't originally been planning to watch the tape, but her friend Edna from the bridge circle had forced it on her after she had successfully used a technique described there to foil an attempted robbery.

She had been awoken by a sound downstairs, and when she went down to see what the matter was she spotted some fat kid going through her jewelry drawer. Determined not to be a victim, she had rushed the man, but had thrown her to the ground and pulled a knife out of his pocket. Undeterred, and seeing that the man was in a corner, Edna had stamped up between his uprights. Her short summer nightie, now hiked up around her middle, had given her bare legs all the freedom they needed. Letting out a yelp, the man was forced to drop his knife, and he tried to find a way to get on top of her, or at least around her. At least out of the corner. But there was to be no escape. Edna, who had learnt from her self defense tapes that a man is helpless against a concerted attack to the genitals, even when performed by an elderly lady or a child, and who was incensed with rage at having her home violated, had stamped up again and again- his thighs, his stomach, and as his legs bent and closed and his hands came down to shield his testicles that had been hurt by her first attack, she even got one upward stamp into his solar plexus. As the tape had said, her attack proved more than he could stand, and he collapsed to the ground, being kicked all the way. As soon as the man was on the ground, Edna had scrambled to her feet, and as he had tried to get up she had kneed him in the face. He tried to get off the floor again, this time leaving his legs wide open, and Edna had not missed the chance. Holding her frilly silk nightie up around her middle so that it would not get in the way, Edna had rammed her foot into his weak spot full force. From there on in, the matter was one for the police.

Betty had been skeptical about the whole self-defense industry for a while - she hadn't really believed a woman, especially an older woman like herself, could successfully bring down and defeat a physically much stronger man in a fight, or even offer up enough resistance to deter him from committing a crime. If the man was committed, his superior strength and technique would always show through, and she couldn't believe a poke to his wee-wee or any other technique would stop him if he was serious, and certainly not knock him out. But Edna's story had made her reconsider- after all, Edna was almost ten years Betty's senior, and was not exactly a model of physical fitness- and yet she had completely disabled a younger man twice her size. Something about that made Betty so wet- she could hardly listen to the story as Edna told it, because she was afraid she would cum any second and make a fool of herself in public. But in the privacy of her own home she could be alone with her fantasies of the male penis, male testicles.

On the tape, she watched some expert explain about female self-defense. It was all she had dreamed it would be.

"If a woman gets into trouble," the instructor on the screen explained, "she should never forget that her best friend is the man's testicles. A good blow right between a man's legs, even a not-so-good blow between his legs, can knock any man unconscious. However much muscle-power a guy has, he can never grow muscles on his testicles."

The pictures of male genatalia on screen the though of what was in a man's pants. The hair in between Betty's legs was dripping. "I want balls," she thought, her body bathed in sweat. "I want a penis and balls. I want to touch them, to hold them, even to hit them. I want them right now." Her body was bathed in sweat as she rolled uncomfortably on the bed.

"Women should know," the voice on the screen went on, "that women who know about the male pain centre and who decide to struggle win almost 70% of the time. More than 2 in 3. And often by knocking their opponents unconscious. If a woman decides before a fight that she will focus her attack between her opponent’s legs, her chances of winning the fight are far superior to that of the man."

The picture on the screen was of a naked man walking through a field, his penis and balls gently swaying from side to side. This was too good. This was more than Betty could take.

PART 2

"If a woman finds herself in trouble," the instructor continued, "she must remember that even a light blow to a man's pain centre will immobilize him completely. Visualize where his balls are, then kick them, knee them, punch them, bite them, grab and squeeze them if you can, slam something into them. Never underestimate how much it hurts a man to be hit there. It doesn't matter how you hit them- there was a thirteen year old girl in Thailand who was alone in a girls' shower and was attacked by a rapist. She remembered what her mother had taught her about the male anatomy, and threw the bar of soap she was scrubbing herself with at the point just below the bulge in his trousers..."

Betty's nipples were as hard as little rocks. A naked actress on the screen was acting out the counter-attack. "And once you've hurt him, be sure not to let up. A lot of women are successfully raped or killed after they think they have already immobilized their assailant. Once you start your attack, don't stop or let up until he's completely disabled and you can safely get away. The girl from Thailand didn't let up. After she had him stunned with her well-placed throw, she pushed her would-be-rapist up against the shower-room wall and kept driving her thigh between his legs again and again until he went limp in her hands. Don't stop after one blow. Hit, squeeze, or twist his testicles until he dies."

Betty couldn't take any more. Her swollen clitoris was pulsating with sexual excitement, and her eyes closed as she reached out to touch it, spreading her legs as wide as they would go. In her mind's eye she could see her friend Edna lying on her back, slamming her feet upwards again and again in the direction of the small balls of flesh that made the robber a man. She imagined him naked, his legs clamped tight shut and his hands trying desperately to catch or at least to block the devastating attack of a woman well into her 60's. She imagined him staring at Edna's crotch as she delivered kick after kick, wishing he had pussy lips too instead of balls. Betty let out a groan, her legs slightly twisting, unable to hold in place because of all the excitement.

Just at that moment, she felt an enormous penis sliding right in between her legs, deep into her vagina. Darren had just come into the room, and seeing what was before him on the bed had been unable to resist. And he had succeeded in creeping in so quietly that she hadn't noticed his presence until that moment.

The orgasm hit before the realization. "oooouuuuuaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!" cried Betty, unable to take it anymore, her whole body going into spasm out of sheer pleasure. A split second later she realized that there was something on top of her. It felt unbelievable. She felt a mouth slowly close around her right nipple, and hairy skin rub roughly against her big swollen clitoris. It was a feeling she had never felt before in her life. The pleasure was so intense that she was just losing all muscular control.

As Betty opened her eyes she began to realize there was a man on top of her, in her… and he had no business being there. She had to push him off but the feeling was so intense. There was so much friction right where she needed it between her legs. She curled into another orgasm.

"I'm..." she tried to say, but it was swallowed into another "aaagh!" It was Darren now she realized - why it was him she still could not fathom. Could it be that he was raping her? Either way, when he had talked about his big enormous Johnson, he had not been exaggerating. Darren's technique was superb. She was hardly down from one orgasm when her body was already writhing with the next.

"I'm… going to... Ooooh… kick your… Haa… oo… aaaa… balls…" Betty panted between waves of incredible pleasure.

Darren wasn't even listening. Goddamn it this chick might be old, but she was hot! He'd never been in bed with something like this before.

Betty wanted to fight back, at least she thought she did, but the orgasms were too powerful, and they kept on coming. She hadn't felt this way since 1972. No, 1972 was nothing compared with this. Out of the corner of her eye she could see forms on the TV screen of girls hitting guys where it hurts. This was like a dream. The next orgasm was so hard that she felt she was blacking out. Her whole body was shaking; she could take no more of this. Why wouldn't he cum? Gathering all her strength, Betty squeezed her vagina tight as hard as she possible could, wrapping her legs right around him. She couldn't afford to black out; this guy had broken into her house. Who knows what he might do to her if she were to fall unconscious. But the feeling was unbelievable. The incessant wriggling of the small body on top of her.

The powerful squeeze on his penis was more than Darren could take. He didn't want to come; this was just too good, and he didn't want it to end now. But his penis was being squeezed so hard inside Betty's warm wet vagina that it was no use - the more he tried not to come, the more futile it became, and in the end the muscle wall behind his testicles just gave way and began to spasm, shooting his full load deep into Betty's vagina. His mouth opened into an, "Urgh!" He experienced one of the most powerful orgasms of his life.

The frantic squirming and wiggling of sex slowly gave way to a feeling of total relaxation, as two sweaty bodies slowly relaxed into one another. The circumstances, the world around them, it all became irrelevant. The self-defense tape was still playing in the background, but nobody was listening. It didn't matter anymore that one was a burglar and the other an older woman, all there was now on the bed were a man and a woman, who had acted out in their own flesh the purpose for which god created two sexes in this world.

Betty was the first to talk. "That was unbelievable," she panted from underneath.

"Yes," agreed Darren, his intentions of rape and robbery replaced with a feeling of utter peace. "You've got an unbelievable body. I've never had sex like that before."

"Your penis," panted Betty, her vagina dripping with warm, sticky fluid. "Your balls. Your sperm. I want you so much."

"Your pussy, your breasts, your legs," responded Darren. "I would marry you."

Everything was so peaceful, so pleasant, Darren would have wanted to lie there forever, but the sex had somehow stimulated his bladder, and he had to urinate.

"Where's the bathroom?" he asked.

"Just down the hall, on the right," answered Betty, rolling out from under him. This was like such a dream; she could hardly believe any of this was really happening.

* * * * *

"Hum, hum, hum, hum," whistled Darren to himself as he relieved himself into Betty's toilet. Holding his still swollen penis in his hand as he peed, Darren thanked god for having given him Willy and the twins. Today they had performed sterling service. It had all been so incredible. It was good to be a man.

WHOP!

It was lights out for Darren.

"Sorry old bean," hissed Redge from behind. "You wanted to steal a plum job for yourself, eh? Forget your boys? We'll deal with you when we're done with the bitch. Boz!"

"I can read your mind, Redge," said Boz, clicking the handcuffs onto the unconscious Darren. "We don't wants him getting' away, does we now? I guess it's our turn to taste some tender pussy."

* * * * *

"Darren is a long time, isn't he?" thought Betty to herself. "It's been five minutes already. I wonder what's keeping him in the bathroom for so long…"

Slowly, her body still shivering from the sex she had just had, Betty rolled out of bed, and slipping on a short frilly nightie walked out of the room to check. Slowly she opened the door to the bathroom, he wasn't there either. Could it be that he had just left her? Like Santa Claus, had he just slipped into the house, given her a present, and then disappeared never to be seen again? Stranger thoughts yet floated through Betty's mind, as she was an old-fashioned kind of person. Maybe he had been an elf, who, seeing her sexual desire from the land of the faeries, had…

Strong hands suddenly seized Betty in a bear hug from behind. It was Boz. Waiting patiently in the shadows, he had found his perfect moment, catching the older woman completely off guard.

"NO!" screamed Betty, realizing she was being attacked. "I WON'T LET YOU!" She had to stop him; she wouldn't allow herself to be raped. She had to attack backwards. She tried to find his face with a backwards head slam, but she failed. His testicles, she had to get at his testicles. Screaming with all her might, Betty tried to wiggle her hands which were pinned by her sides backwards, feeling for his nads. Even his penis was okay. If she could get it she would just pull and pull.

Boz understood what she was up to, and tightened his grip. This woman might be old, but goddamn it she was struggling hard. If she could get his testicles in her hands it would be the end. Boz suddenly felt vulnerable.

Realizing that she was getting nowhere, Betty struggled even more desperately. Scenes from the video she had just watched flashed through her mind. "Remember that even a light blow to a man's pain centre will immobilize him completely. Never underestimate how much it hurts a man to be hit there. It doesn't matter how you hit them, once you've hurt him, be sure not to let up. Hit, squeeze, or twist his testicles until he dies." Mustering up all her strength, Betty bent forward, lifting Boz's feet off the floor. Her first thought had been to somehow throw him over her shoulder and then dive down at his crotch, but when that didn't work, she charged backwards, ramming him into the wall, her desk, the edges of her cabinet. He was bent forwards leaving his balls undefended from a blow from behind. Anything she could ram him backwards against, if she could ram it into the right place.

Wham! Wham! The corner of the desk-table in the corner smashed first into Boz's upper thigh, then into the tender point between his legs and buttocks, right near the place his balls were vulnerably dangling. It hurt like hell, and would probably bruise badly too. He had thought he had her- but she just wasn't giving up, and he couldn't believe how vulnerable his balls were making him as he was trying to stop her from getting free. He kicked backwards hard, pushing the table out of the way, but almost allowing her to slip out of his grip as she bent forwards all the way. One more inch and he felt he would lose his grip, sliding over her back and landing on the floor. In an attempt to regain his footing, Boz released his bear hug, trying to get his feet back onto the ground. He had to control her- and he had to stop her screaming, before one of the neighbors called 911.

As Boz released his grip, Betty was able to use her arms again. She needed a weapon - there were some scissors on the dressing table. She charged for them, but Boz was right behind her, seizing her again as she reached the table. One arm wrapped around her slender middle, as the other grabbed the wrist of the arm reaching for the scissors. Betty was almost there. She touched the scissor handles, but her arm was violently turned away as Boz, lifting her feet off the ground, swung Betty 90 degrees to one side. The dressing table came crashing to the ground and with it the scissors.

"I've got you at last," panted Boz, clamping his hand over her throat to stop the screams. Goddamn bitch, she had tried to kill him. She deserved to be strangled.

Betty's thoughts got more and more desperate. No, this could not be happening. She could not breathe. She would die. She couldn't even scream for help. She began flailing around for all she was worth. She suddenly felt something soft against the back of her heel.

“Aaaaaargh!” A man's scream filled the room. The grip on Betty's neck was released, and her feet landed back on the floor. In an instant she realized what had happened- during her desperate flailing, she had for some reason been cycling in the air with her feet. Her mind had not been functioning clearly, but some primal female defensive instinct had taken over.

Betty didn't even bother rearranging her nightie, which had been hiked up almost up to her breasts by Boz's lifting motion. The only words that flashed into her mind were from the cassette "once you've hurt him, be sure not to let up." Boz's hands hadn't even had time to come down to cover his hurting crotch yet when Betty ploughed into him full force, smashing him backwards hard into the wall. She had him in a firm forward bear hug, and this time she wasn't going to let go. Forcing her head right into him to avoid counter-attack, she squeezed his rib-cage as hard as she could, making it hard for him to breath. One good shot and it would all be over. Betty violently pulled Boz to one side, forcing him to open his legs in order to keep his balance. She rammed the upper half of her slightly chubby female thigh it there as hard as it would go.

Boz screamed out in pain. Whack, whack, whack, whack! Over and over again she kicked him, squeezing herself into him as hard as she could in order to keep his body under control. With her squeezed into him like this, he could not bring his hands down to shield his balls, or even fall to the ground to somehow protect his nads. Her thigh came in again and again until he stopped struggling.

True SD Story

By Nancy

Found this true story on a self defense forum for sharing success stories - legend

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Hi everyone.

Here's our story.

This incident happened in July 1993. I've noticed that most of the stories posted here involve stranger on stranger types of attacks. In contrast, my story is a typical family violence incident. For that reason, I have love in my heart for everyone involved and there are no bad people here and I'd feel sad if any of them were ever hurt. This is just something that happened one evening and has since been forgotten. There are no lingering resentments and we all get along fine now. Also understand, because I was working when this incident happened, I will be telling this story as it was told to me by my husband, my younger sisters Colette and Lynn, and by the doctors who I spoke to afterwards. My story isn't exactly a self-defense success story in the sense that Jenny's story is. However, we did have a heroine of sorts – my middle sister Colette. Although, for my husband and I, you could say that this was our first lesson in self-defense.

During the summer of 1993 Colette needed a place to stay for several weeks until her new apartment would be ready for her to move into; so my husband and I invited her to stay with us. It was early on a Saturday evening and Colette and my husband were in the living room watching television. My husband had been drinking scotch and water that evening as he sometimes does on the weekends; and his drunkenness only made the situation worse. Suddenly and without warning, my youngest sister Lynn came storming in through the back door without even knocking. She was shouting at the top of her lungs, "WHERE IS THAT LITTLE BITCH!!! I'LL KILL HER!!!

The next thing my husband knew, Lynn was pulling Colette by the hair and was punching and kicking her as hard as she could – right in our own living room! Lynn is much bigger and stronger and Colette never really had a chance. Meanwhile, my husband, who's just a "big teddy bear" to begin with, was in a half-drunken stupor and he just sat there, momentarily frozen, and watching in stunned disbelief as Lynn kept right on punching and kicking with Colette desperately trying to escape……….

The thing that my husband didn't realize, and the thing that brought about this violent incident between two close knit sisters was the fact that Lynn had just found out that Colette had been having a fling with her live-in boyfriend. Understandably, Lynn was pretty mad about it. In fact, she was absolutely livid!

As they struggled, Lynn pushed Colette back into our wooden living room table. They both fell backwards and went crashing down together right on top of the table -- and collapsing all four table legs. At this point my husband finally realized that it was time for him to actually step in and do something to break up the fight. The situation had reached the point where either Colette was really going to get hurt or else our expensive stereo and TV equipment would be ruined.

My husband then went over and lifted Lynn off of Colette, but when he did Lynn kept right on struggling and fighting with him trying to get back at her. My husband had never been in a situation like this before. He'd never had to break up a fight before in his life and he was totally clueless about how to go about restraining someone as strong as Lynn is without hurting her. The more Lynn struggled, the more force my husband needed to use in order to control her. My husband was able to push Lynn out of the living room and into the hallway leading to the bedrooms. He was trying to keep her as far away from Colette as possible. Nevertheless, Lynn did a terrible thing to my husband. As they were struggling in the hallway, she kneed him as hard as she could -- right in the groin.

Lynn told me later that when she kneed him he just screamed and then fell to the floor. She said, "One moment he was standing, the next moment he was just down." My husband would never actually hit any women, but he did tell me later that he wishes that he'dpunched Lynn in the stomach right from the get-go. I can't say that I blame him for feeling that way either. As far as I'm concerned, I'm just glad that I wasn't there to see it happen. The next morning one of my husband's doctors would jokingly refer to this little fiasco as being simply "That kick".

The struggle between Lynn and my husband only lasted a few seconds, but it gave Colette enough time for her to run too the kitchen where she grabbed a steak knife. Colette was totally freaking out by this time and upon seeing the sorry condition that Lynn had put my husband in, she just pointed the knife at Lynn and screamed at her, "GET OUT!!! GET OUT NOW OR I'LL USE IT!!!"………Colette was dead serious and Lynn was well aware of it.

Colette chased Lynn right out of our apartment with the knife in her hand. So it was Colette's quick thinking that actually ended the ruckus. Thank goodness for kitchen utensils!

When Colette was sure that Lynn had left the building she then went back inside to check up on my husband. He was standing up under his own power by this time, but he was still in unbearable pain. In fact he would stay in that condition for the better part of the next two weeks. It was obvious to both of them that he needed medical attention so Colette drove him straight too the ER. Lynn had nearly castrated him!

The strangest thing about this whole incident was the fact that Colette actually escaped with only a few minor scratches and bruises while, on the other hand, my husband needed to be rushed to the hospital with Colette doing the driving. Somehow I don't think that Lynn ever imagined that things would turn out quite like they actually did…..

Colette called me at work from the hospital and told me about everything that had happened. My shift hadn't ended yet, and on a Saturday night it was impossible to get someone to cover for me. By the time I finally arrived at the hospital my husband had already been admitted for testing. When the doctors learned that I was waiting in the lobby one of them came out and told me that they were pretty sure that my husband had a ruptured testicle and that he'd need an immediate operation to have it removed. He also said that they needed to run more tests first just to be sure of their findings. Fortunately though, throughout the night and into the next morning, all of the tests came back negative and the only thing that was actually wrong with my husband was that he just had allot of internal bleeding and swelling in his scrotum. Luckily Lynn had only ruptured several large blood vessels in his groin, but his testicles were never ruptured. And we were also lucky that the swelling in his groin wasn't blocking off his urinary track and preventing him from urinating. The doctors told us that urinary obstruction is a possible complication with these types of injuries and that it requires several days of treatment in a hospital.

Thankfully, the operation was called off. My husband was sent home the following afternoon with an ice pack and a prescription for painkillers and another prescription for a drug to prevent the injury from becoming infected. However, one doctor did say that they couldn't make any promises about my husband's fertility. Right before my husband and I left the hospital, the same doctor told me that he was "very--very lucky".

Internal infection was our biggest worry at this point and it was still a very serious concern. The doctors told us that if an infection ever developed that it could be a very serious complication and that it could even result in my husband needing an operation to have one, or both, of his testicles removed. Thankfully, that never happened. Because my husband works on his feet all day, the doctors advised him to take two weeks off from his job and to stay in bed as much as possible. They also told him that his injury would take six weeks in order to heal completely. I think that this was the only time in his life that my husband has ever actually followed a doctor's advice. That was a very scary time for the both of us……..

Naturally, Lynn's explanation for why she found it necessary to knee my husband in the groin would have actually been comical if it weren't for the fact that it was so scary.

"I don't have balls so I didn't know that this would happen!? I'm sorry!"

As far as she was concerned this was just another technique that she had learned – or should I say, "perfected" – in a self-defense class. However, she really didn't know that there's a big difference between kicking a guy in the shins as opposed to slamming her knee into his groin! Pathetic! Who's teaching these classes anyway? Thank goodness that she at least had enough sense to stay away from his eyes and throat…….

Anyway, my husband's injury healed just as the doctors hoped that it would, so he's okay physically. The only lasting effect from the injury is a cyst that developed on one of his testicles as the injury was healing. That cyst can be quite painful for him in the hot months. Lynn also gave my husband's ego a bruise that took much longer to heal. Months and months after the injury happened; for some reason, he was worried that he might still lose a testicle or something. My husband finally mentioned his concerns to our family physician, but the doctor said that he was fine but he recommended that he get counseling for post traumatic stress syndrome. He never did though. Unfortunately, "That Kick" was a very upsetting thing for my husband to have to go through; and it was totally unnecessary……..

Someone in this club had asked if anyone knew the effects that a kick in the groin can have on a guy. Well, here you have it. I hope that this answers your question?

An ironic sidebar to this terrible incident is that several years later Lynn finally was married to a guy who she only knew for a few months. The marriage didn't last long though. The guy that she married was a bodybuilder and, I think, a steroid junkie also. Anyway, the guy started beating her early in the marriage, and for her own safety, she had to leave. One time I asked her, "Why didn't you use your self-defense on him like you did to my husband?" Just like I suspected, she didn't have an answer for me.

In 1996 I took six months of Kempo Karate in a very reputable school. From the very beginning we were being shown strikes directed at all of the vulnerable arias. However, the thing that nobody stopped to tell us about was the different kinds of injuries that we could cause if we actually used these techniques. In effect, the school was sending trained killers out on the street, and without giving them a full understanding of their capabilities. In fact, most of the self-defense literature that I've read is even more irresponsible! These idiots just skip right over the fact that we live in a society governed by the law of the state -- and not the law of the jungle! In light of my own experiences, I can understand why Lynn might have done the thing that she did to my husband. Nobody bothered to educate her………