A Different Kind Of Dominance

Body/Mind/Soul/Brain. Her form, the totality that is Her, operates on a plane that is far superior to the mere senses. A dark place because it is unknown, frightening. We fear extinction here. At the same time we possess our ultimate security, the absolute certainty that this is where we want to be…and where we belong. It is the pathway to our redemption. Here…In the Darkness…This is Enlightenment…This is Hell.

She takes us there. She is Power. She is Grace. She is Incomprehensible Entity. Her flesh is borne of divine spirit, Satan’s most glorious gift when aligned with the maleficence that comes with such incendiary intent. Extra-Dimensional; strange galaxies merge into new worlds here. It is poetry. Beautiful. Unfathomable. The paralyzing, subtle tremors of her plush, cream-color leg-flesh drive the kneeling subject into mourning for parcels of his existence now being cast upon the altar of sacrifice for the last time. A final renunciation of all that came before. The Grand Farewell to the past. She will accept nothing less. Commitment to her must always be uncompromising; unconditional.

Very often, the most powerful subjection a man is forced to endure is accomplished with complete passivity on her part. Of course, she must wield her will with unchecked aggression. But physically, she may often accomplish the most remarkable results without lifting a finger.

A Vignette.
Coette was, like, this Deadly Domme. Big, fat girl…really cute…really super-hot…like, sexy as Hell.
Killer Coette, they’d say…cuz she was , like, deadly. She made him do it. We were the ones saw it, cuz nobody else wanted to come that day.  She showed him her killer ass and she sorta shook it real hot-like so he saw it real good, and then…just real fast outta nowhere she said; “Smash your face off the edge of that table.”
And it was so weird…I mean, he didn’t even hesitate. He threw himself pretty hard. And when he did, she laughed…cuz his face caught that sharp corner…and man did he yell out…had to hurt like hell what he did…but she was by no means satisfied. So she showed him her fat, luscious thigh…y’know, real hot-like, and she was in these, like, super-hot super-high heels, which unnerved him…like, a lot, I think…and then she told him to go again…well, to DO IT again, I think, only harder. Then she said, “A LOT harder!”
He kept doing it because she kept laughing and laughing and making him keep doing it HARDER and the table edge was really hard and it had like a sharp corner there too and she thought it was super-funny that he was getting so bloody and screaming and…and…you could see…that…he…didn’t know what to do but had to keep going because she kept flashing her body at him…especially those monstrous legs…well and her big, super-hot ass too…real sexy and hot-like…oh yeah…AND her cleavage…oh, man…it would be, like, bouncing…oh god…which was GORGEOUS…and her tits were, like, huge and….and…edible, I thought for some reason.
“Again. Harder!”
And then, BAM! He’d crash his face into it again…I mean so hard. Then he’d yell out…and the blood…god…there’d be more blood…really bad…It would, like, fly all over…then she’d laugh…and laugh…and laugh some more.
“Again. Harder!”
Omigod…then…then it was worse cuz he obeyed her some more and did it again…really bloody…splattering all over…something awful…and his voice…that yelling…so much pain…
And more laughter…like so sinister…we were pretty scared then…
“Again.”
Well, she just kept on and on and she like never touched the fuckin’ dude, but…you know, just kept laughing and telling him to do it again…it was SO weird! Well…by now you know what happened. Well…MOST of ‘em know by now, I guess. He eventually bounced off the edge of that table again…REALLY hard that time…and Coette just looked down at him so serious like and she had…I mean…there was no feeling…in that look…none…at all…she was like this girl version of Michael Myers, ummmm…so anyway…he slammed down to the hard tile floor…again…and…he…he DIED. For real. All just doing what she said. She never touched him. Just like ordered him…to…like…kill himself…basically. It was really weird. But…we were afraid of her too…and, like, we never asked…any questions.

Images courtesy of Bootlovers.Com & Lethal Lexi.Com. Thanks, Girls!

Birthday Girl

I knew she was annoyed with me. The only question was ‘how annoyed?’ I tried to put it out of my mind, but it’s not so easy. Such questions always cause massive lesions in the flow of my functionality. But then, so does everything else where she is concerned. All it takes is one look at those exquisite, massive legs of hers and I can actually become dumbstruck, unable to focus properly on attending to her needs of the moment; Just the sort of thing that makes her annoyed. Her size and power are enough of a worry, but her violent temper is what really strikes the fear into me. When you plant an intense desire to punish and maim into the soul of a woman that stands 5’3” and weighs over 300 lbs., let me tell you, you’ve got yourself one hell of a killing machine. Oh yeah, and mix that all in with the fact that she’s easily the sexiest woman you’ve ever seen, and you can well imagine that your troubles are pretty much of an on-going variety. To fall in love with such an exquisite and rare creature has been my dubious fate.

Anyway, as I was saying, she was definitely annoyed with me, and there was no doubt in my mind that a severe reprimand was coming my way when we got home. I had taken her to a concert to see John Mayer and Melissa Ethridge, her two favorite performers of all time. If it seems a bit of a lucky coincidence that her two favorites would appear on the same bill, well, it is. I’m the one who arranged and promoted the concert. I’m Kip Lansford, and I’m a big-shot. I’m president of Cameo Productions in Los Angeles, and we just happen to be the hottest concert promoters in the biz. But this isn’t the point. The point is that I put this concert together just for her. Her name is Asal, and I did it as a present for her on her 24rd birthday. Young and fine; the impossible combination. I attended to every detail of her special night personally, to be sure that nothing was left to chance. The most expensive luxury box in the concert hall, complete with the finest champagne and caviar, 5-star dining, complete security clearance to go backstage or wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted. The entire concert hall was at her disposal for the duration of the show.

The performances were exceptional. Asal seemed thrilled with everything. Everything but me, that is. She spent the better part of the evening wandering the concert hall, flirting with boys, talking to her home girls that she had invited. She would reconnect with me off and on for a drink, or an introduction or two to people she wanted to meet, but the whole time she was ice-cold where I was concerned. She knew that attitude caused me to feel unsettled and acutely anxious and she did it just to make sure I was uncomfortable. That was normal for her. It was simply the way she expressed her dominance over me, like she was constantly angry with me. Although I certainly hated the feeling, I had at least begun to get used to it on some level. But as we rode home in the limo, I knew there was something more on her mind. I tried to talk to her about it, but she refused.
-Shut up, she snapped. We’ll discuss this when we get home.

My stomach was in knots as I opened the front door for her. She walked ahead of me, so cocky and so hot; her huge, glorious body exploding from her skin-tight mini-dress, teetering in her elegant 5-inch heels.
-Honey, I hope your—“
-I told you to shut up! she said as she turned on me, slapping me violently across the face. This goddamned insolence of yours is really starting to get on my nerves! Now make me a fucking drink and meet me in the bedroom. And hurry your bitch-ass up.

Now I know you’re probably wondering why someone as wealthy as I am, only 35 years old and with my considerable influence in the entertainment business, with this beautiful home in the Hollywood Hills, with all I’ve got going for me, why would I take this kind of shit from a fat, young nobody of a girl? I can already hear you saying it. ‘Just tell her to hit the bricks, dude! You can have anybody you want.’
Well, that’s exactly the point. I want Asal. Honestly, and I’m not bragging, just telling the truth, I’ve had my share of girls. Hot girls. But no one has ever made me feel like Asal. She’s too much. Her big, beautiful legs and incomprehensible ass drive me to madness. Just to touch her flesh, omigod. She lets me sometimes. She has let me kiss her thighs. She has smothered me, sitting on my face with all 300-plus lbs. of her forced down on that spectacular ass and onto my helpless face. When I see her, I tremble with excitement. When I think of her, I shiver with waves of ecstasy. No, no. I could never leave her. Never. The greatest fear in my life is that she will leave me, and I am simply not prepared for it. For the chance to be crushed just one more time between those ungodly, delicious thighs of hers, I am prepared to give my very life.

I moved like a man possessed, making her drink and getting to that bedroom. She was down to her bra and panties, still shod in those amazing high-heels. I handed her her drink, ever so contritely, and waited for her to speak. She strutted back and forth a couple of times, her giant body swaying and swirling in such luscious, indescribable motions that she seemed to be defying the laws of physics. I choked down a sip of my drink, trying to steady my nerves. The sight of her body like this, and its mind-fucking movements had me dizzy. I felt as if I might throw up from the tension. The whole time she’s looking me over, up and down, her expression and demeanor letting me know in no uncertain terms that I’m less than a dog turd to her right now. At length, she told me to sit down. She straddled a corner of the bed and sat down also, staring a hole through me, and flashing those surreal thighs at me. For a moment she just sat there, taking a couple of sips of her drink and glaring at me with the most severe, intimidating expression. Finally, she spoke.

-Here’s the thing, she said. It’s getting to a point where I just don’t know if there’s any hope for you. I don’t know if you’ve got some kind of constitutional attitude problem, or if maybe you just enjoy pissing me off for some reason, or if maybe you’re just actually that fucking stupid that you actually don’t understand me when I tell you what to do. My real concern is that that’s it, that you’re just a big, fucking stupid dumbass who’s incapable of doing what I say. And I know you’ll agree with me, that a girl as hot as I am deserves a hell of a lot better than a fucking stupid dumbass, do I not?
-Of course—
-Shut up! You see, there you go, being a fucking dumbass! Just nod, idiot! I’ll tell you when you can speak.
I shuddered in terror, nodding agitatedly to meet with her approval.
-I hardly know where to begin. I’ve tried to think if there were any more ways you could have fucked up this evening for me, and if there were, I can’t think of them offhand. But let’s just start with this.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a dinner napkin. She handed it to me so that I immediately noticed a stain on it. It was black, like dirt or thick dust.
-Can you tell me anything about this? She asked.
I had no idea what to think. Asal had always been a clean-freak, so I knew it had something to do with something that wasn’t clean, but I had no clue as to the details. The look in my eyes told her that I knew better than to speak without permission.
-If you know something, you may speak.
I didn’t, so I just shook my head silently.
-That’s what I thought, she said. Suppose I were to tell you that this disgusting smudge rubbed off on my napkin from under the dinner table where I was sitting. Can you wrap your fucking pea-brain around that as a way of showing your love and respect for me? To place me at a table, where they’re serving my food, ON MY BIRTHDAY, NO LESS, with this kind of filth under the edge of it?
I was horrified. Of course, I hadn’t thought to have the table cleaned underneath. Shit. No wonder she was pissed. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just looked at her, petrified.
-Well, anything you can tell me about this, dumbass? Go on, speak up.
-No darling, I-I can’t believe it. I was VERY specific with the maitre d’ that every inch of the place had to be spotless for you. I can’t imagine how they would let this happen.
-I see, she said. So it’s the maitre d’s fault?
-I-I think so, yes.
-Mmmm-hmmm. So you’re saying that making me happy is the maitre d’s job, is that right?
-Well, I—
-Be careful on this one!
-I, well, it seems like, in this case, he certainly should have—
Slaaaap!! She slapped me so hard she almost took my head off.
-Fuck you! She growled. This is what I’m talking about! You and your fucking bullshit! Now you want to lie to me on top of everything else!
-I’m not ly—
-Craaaack!! She slapped the shit out of me again.
-Bullshit!! Just answer the question, you goddamn pig! WHO is responsible for my happiness? Who? Some idiot maitre d’ I never heard of, or you?
I felt tears beginning to come, but held them back. I realized there was no escaping her logic. She slapped me again, so hard.
-Well?!!
-I am, my darling. I am.
-That’s right. So, when I sit down at some filthy fucking table for my birthday dinner which YOU have arranged, and get filth like this on my napkin, WHOSE FAULT IS IT?
-It’s mine, I cried, it’s all my fault.

-Now, think about this, bitch-ass, and see if your feeble brain can follow along. If I hadn’t placed that napkin on my lap, WHERE would this filthy, disgusting smudge of dirt gone?
I almost choked as I tried to swallow.
-On your dress, I whimpered.
She became enraged. She stood up, flashed her massive thigh in front of me, then reared back and slammed it hard right into my face. The force of the blow knocked me over in my chair and sent me sprawling onto the floor. There had to be more power in those legs of hers than a 16-wheeler.
-No, goddammit, no! she screamed. Think! For one second in your stupid, worthless fucking life, THINK! What was I wearing? God, I’m so sick of your infinite stupidity!
That powerhouse kick had almost knocked me cold, but since it didn’t, my head was throbbing so hard I couldn’t pick myself up. Still, I began to realize the point. She had been wearing that ultra-short, skin-tight mini-cocktail dress, so the dirt wouldn’t have gotten on her dress. It would have gotten on her leg.
-Leg, I whimpered. I’m sorry. It would have gotten on your leg.
-Beautiful, Einstein! You see, this is what I don’t understand. You seem capable of thinking when you want to. So WHY is it you refuse to think where I’m concerned? And what other conclusion can I come to other than that you saw no problem in taking me out for a so-called ‘elegant’ birthday dinner, and then seating me at a table so filthy and disgusting that this greasy fucking smudge would have ended up on my gorgeous legs. Do I have it about right? This is the consideration you show me on my fucking birthday?!
-I’m sorry, I blubbered
-You’re sorry?! Fuck you!

She stood over me now, the predator inspecting her prey. My god, those giant legs! So exquisitely shaped, and so terrifyingly powerful. I started to cry as her slightest movements caused that leg-flesh to jiggle and quiver directly in front of me.
-Well, she continued, I’m sorry too, then. Let’s see how you like it.
With that she bent down and stuffed the smudged napkin into my mouth.
-Here you go, pig! YOU eat it, Motherfucker!
She continued to force more and more of it into my mouth until I started to gag.
-What? She railed, What’s wrong? Oh, you don’t like the taste of this filthy fucking napkin? Come on, you bitch! I want every last inch of this fucker in that big, fat, stupid mouth of yours!
She continued to shove it in above my muffled moaning.
-I don’t get it, she went on, it was OK on my leg, but not good enough for you to eat? Fuck you, Pig!
Finally, I managed to take the whole napkin into my mouth. I couldn’t breath.
-There, she said, you can just meditate on that for a little while.
She pulled my face into her crotch area, knowing how it drove me wild being so close to her legs. As I struggled to keep from suffocating, the electrical allure of her powerful body added even more juice to my gyrations. Asal laughed at my complete helplessness, and then slammed that massive, battering ram of a thigh hard into my face again. The pain was indescribable. Though I instantly felt sure the blow had broken my nose, my bigger concern was that this must be what a concussion felt like. Everything went dark, and I had the distinct sensation that my skull had cracked and that my brain had just been scrambled like so much Hamburger Helper. I lay on the floor, writhing in pain, instinctively trying to pull the napkin out of my mouth. Asal reached down and callously ripped it out herself.
-I should let you choke on that shit, but guess what? This wasn’t everything. Now that your brain’s beginning to work, I’ve got something else to show you. It looks like you just need some fucking sense knocked into you before you can fucking comprehend anything.

She strutted back to her purse, driving me to utter insanity with each gargantuan step of her enormous body. This time she pulled out a fork and brought it over to me for inspection. I had painfully reached a sitting position on the floor by this time.
-Take a look at this, she said, and tell me what you see.
I was still seeing stars from the brutal force of that massive thigh to the face, so it was hard to focus. Thankfully, my vision had cleared just enough to notice that the fork had spots on it from the dishwasher. Oh God, I thought. How could I have let this happen?
-Well?
I started sobbing harder now, knowing I was in serious trouble.
-It-It’s…
-It’s WHAT?
-It’s…DIRTY.
-Dirty?
-Yes.
-Is that it?
-It’s got spots.
-IT’S FILTHY!! She screamed. It’s fucking disgusting! And you didn’t give a rat’s fucking ass if I ATE WITH IT, did you?
-Oh, god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know.
-You didn’t know? You’re sorry? Bub, you’ve been SORRY from the get-go. But what do you mean, you didn’t know? How were you going to know when you didn’t attend to these fucking details personally? You’re such a fucking idiot! Always carrying on with people about how good you are, how organized you are. What a bunch of fucking bullshit! You’re lucky I don’t shove this up your fucking ass right now! But you know what, you pig-ass bitch-boy? There’s still more!

With that, she again pulled my face up near her crotch, just inches from those killer thighs. Her scent was maddening. Her skin smelled so perfect, like lilacs in the spring, and along with that I could detect just a hint of the divine bouquet of her cunt.
-Please, I cried. I didn’t even know what I meant by it.
Then came another big thigh, flush and powerful into my throbbing head that sent me tumbling across the room, slumping to rest in the corner. She followed immediately, killing me with the incomprehensible movements of her body.
-Now answer me this, moron! Did you notice anything unusual about our waiter tonight?
I tried to think. I remembered him well, but I couldn’t think of anything wrong or unusual.
-Well?
I didn’t answer, but just broke into deeper sobbing.
Asal reached down and slapped me again with the full weight of her body behind it. I clutched at the wall, yelping in pain.
-You didn’t notice that he SMELLED A LITTLE FUNNY? She asked.
I couldn’t place what she meant.
-God, you’re such a dip-shit. I have to spell out everything for you. And why? Because, like I keep saying, you’re nothing but a stupid fucking moron. Hell-O? He was wearing fucking Drakkar Noir! How could you miss that? It’s a man’s fucking cologne! You’re supposed to be a man! Am I missing something here? You know I HATE FUCKING DRAKKAR NOIR!! And you let him wait on me? For my BIRTHDAY!?! God, you make me sick!

I couldn’t believe it. She was absolutely right. I couldn’t say I was automatic when it came to colognes, but I certainly should have recognized the damned Drakkar Noir. Should have seen to it her waiter wore something she liked. I slumped in that corner, pretty much fetal, and mumbled a continuous mantra of ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…’
-Yeah, yeah, she scoffed. Well, mister, you’re going to pay for this bullshit. I suppose you thought I was going to allow you some mind-altering sex tonight, too, eh? Show my appreciation to you for such a ‘wonderful’ evening? Well, three guesses whether that’s going to happen. I’ve never been so fucking humiliated in all my life. So it seems to me that your punishment should fit the crime. And you know what I feeling like doing to finish off my birthday? I feel like cooking.

The Devil alone knew that this might mean. Cooking? It was after midnight. Whatever she was up to, I had a bad feeling about it.
-Let’s go, she said. You’re going to watch.
Groggy from all the blows to the head, I managed to stumble behind her out to the kitchen area. She made me sit at the kitchen table and watch her as she moved about, so impossibly sexy in her skimpy thong bottom and lacy bra. Every move she made in those awesome high heels made my cock harder and harder. Within a few minutes I was practically panting. Asal strutted around haughtily, obviously taking great delight in driving me out of my skin with raging desire. She was making breakfast; eggs, bacon, sausage, mixing it all together in a large skillet. Fighting the onset of insanity caused by my lust for her, I tried to focus on what she might be up to. I couldn’t get a handle on what might be ‘cooking’ in that devious mind of hers. I just kept remembering the line about the ‘punishment fitting the crime.’

-Keep your eyes on my legs and ass, she said as she undulated to and from the table, bringing over condiments, silverware, glasses, etc. Watching her ass sway like a wrecking ball and the maddening shakes and quivers of those huge legs with every delicious movement of her glorious, fat body was taking its toll. I was so fucking horny I thought I might explode. She purposely exaggerated each movement as well, so as to have maximum effect on my withering soul. At last she made her final approach, holding the skillet with a potholder in one hand and what appeared to be a rolled up paper towel in the other.
-Here we are, she said. Let’s share a nice late night birthday breakfast together.
I didn’t know how to respond, the whole thing was so strange. Plus, my entire focus was still on her monster thighs as she stood right in front of me.
-I thought that after treating me to such a lovely evening, I might return the favor. So, how about a little something to eat, fuck-stick?!

Without warning, she proceeded to fling the entire contents of the skillet in my face and onto my chest. Turned out she had practically filled the pan with cooking oil before putting the food in and now that scalding hot grease might as well have been a beaker full of acid as it proceeded to eat into my flesh. I screamed in pain and flipped out of the chair and onto the floor, pawing helplessly at my face.
-Oh, what’s the matter? She taunted. Oh, did you get something disgusting on your clothes? On your face? Oh my! I’m sorry. I hadn’t thought to see if that grease was hot before I threw it in your face. What COULD I have been thinking?
Asal stood over me like a vulture, watching me gyrate like a top on the kitchen floor.
-You see, bitch, she snapped, two can play this ‘Oh, I forgot’ game. Well, now let’s see how you like it!

Next she unrolled the paper towel she brought to the table and took a fork out of it. She had soaked it with cleaning fluid and dishwashing detergent and then coated it with Comet. She speared one of the sausages with it and bent back over me.
-Here, she said, eat this.
The pain was so intense that I couldn’t stop my flip-flop routine on the floor. The molten grease had already singed away sections of my face and riddled my head and chest with severe burns.
-Sit still, pig, she yelled, and open your fucking mouth.
She grabbed my hair and held my head steady as she shoved the fork into my mouth.
-Chew it up, god damn you! Right now!
She forced me to chew, and right away I could taste the Comet, though I wasn’t totally sure what the rest of the toxic mixture might be.
-Go ahead, mister big shot. Eat! It’s only a little silver cleaner and some detergent. Oh, and of course, a nice healthy portion of Comet.
I really started to buck now. She laughed and held me firmly in place.
-Oh, no, she said, it’s OK. This stuff’s good for you. What? You don’t care for it? Oh, well, you know it’s the damnedest thing. I didn’t THINK to see if that fork was clean. Aww, and now you’ve swallowed some kind of poison. I’m really sorry. I’ll try to do better next time. You don’t mind, do you?

I was freaking out, now. The chemicals began to burn the living shit out of my mouth, throat, and lungs. I struggled to breath. I felt like the flesh from my whole face had now been eaten away. It became harder to scream as the noxious toxins stormed my esophagus. All of this seemed to amuse Asal immensely. She laughed and continued to stand over me, taunting me and still showing off those devastating legs, which wasn’t helping.
-Is any of this perhaps making an impression on you, asshole? she railed. Am I getting through to your stupid ass, or has my approach been a little too subtle for that pea-fucking-brain of yours? Well, maybe I can summon the waitress over here to help you. Hmmm. I hope she doesn’t smell too bad, though.
She jerked me by the hair right up to her ass and proceeded to cut loose with a huge fart, right in my face.
-Smell that, pussy-ass, she said. And don’t you DARE touch me with that et-up face of yours. I did my best to inhale through the nose, but my system was just about on complete tilt. She fired away with another big, smelly fart. I would normally have reveled in such humiliation, but combined with the very real injuries and damage she had wrought upon me, I couldn’t really enjoy it at that moment, though the sight of her exquisite ass in my face did still have me swinging nothing but wood. She laughed as she looked back at me in my agony. Then she cut a third one, the smell flowing directly into my brain.
-Oh, jeez, my bad, she giggled. I think maybe your waitress smells a little funky tonight, don’t you? Gee, too bad I didn’t think to check and see if she felt like farting in your worthless fucking face tonight. It must have slipped my mind. Oh well, these things happen you know.

Then she turned on me again, and slammed another knee lift into my face. I felt sure now I was going to die. My throat and lungs were entirely constricted, my burns were throbbing beyond description, and now another concussion-style blast to the head. She followed me as I flipped again half way across the kitchen. She could plainly see I couldn’t breathe.
-Happy Birthday to ME, she said, and Happy 911 call to you, moron.
With that, she held me in place by the hair and fired that big thigh right into my solar plexus with everything she had. The air rushed out of me like it had been shot from a cannon and I slumped to the floor like a bag of dirt, gasping helplessly for the breath that wouldn’t come. I could hear Asal still cussing me out as she stalked away, those divine high heels clacking imperiously on the hardwood floor. Somehow, I did manage to get to my cell phone and call 911. It was close. The doctors said I was lucky. I made up some ludicrous story about someone breaking in while I was cooking and doing this to me for reasons completely unknown to me. I don’t think they believed me, but the whole thing blew over without an investigation.

Well, this was about a month ago, and my face is permanently scarred. I’m going back to the surgeon next week for another skin graft. They think I can look relatively normal again if we work hard enough at it. My esophagus, lungs, and stomach suffered damage from the chemicals, but I’m taking some meds that should help them recover with time. Meanwhile, I’m still trying to make amends with Asal, hoping she’ll eventually forgive me for being such an idiot. She pays very little attention to me, except to reprimand or punish me for my wrongdoing. Nothing as severe as her birthday night, of course. But I’ve always got to be on my toes so it doesn’t happen again. She’s a sharp cookie, and very demanding.