Men fighting Men, Cruelty, Torture, Humiliation, and Forced Cuckolding. We explore the women who are aroused by these things.
Editor's Note: We welcome Greg to the blog as an enthusiastic reader and contributor. Greg was kind enough to send us a story (his story) for publication here. His submission has been lightly edited for readability, and the art work supplied is random window dressing harvested from the web.
first experience with the thrill of women enjoying watching men fight was just three days after my completion of my sophomore year in high school. I had been working out at the
school and was just leaving when I heard a girl call out my name. It was the smoking hot "Lisa," a stunner
who had just recently graduated.
She was the best friend of my best friend's older sister. She walked up to me and asked if she could
walk with me. Of course, I quickly said
Lisa was dressed in a little pink tank
top, a pair of skimpy cut off jeans and, in particular, a pair of flip flops
that showed her beautiful feet, as well as bright red nail polish. Having a bit of a foot fetish, I will never
forget the impact of her lovely feet. As
we began to walk, I heard another voice calling out to Lisa. It was her
boyfriend Rick. He was running toward us
so we stopped and waited for him. Once
he got to us it was obvious that he was upset with us walking together. He started getting in my face, asking what the
fuck was going on with me and Lisa. I told him to chill out, nothing was going
on, but he wasn't buying it. He then turned to Lisa and asked if I was hitting
on her. I was expecting her to calm him
down, but to my surprise, she said nothing. When I turned and looked at her, I could see a
fire in her eyes.It was then I knew
that lovely Lisa was not going to stop this impending fight. She was becoming excited and clearly wanted it
to happen. I can still feel the rush that came over me with the realization
that this was going to be a fight to the finish. There would be no one to stop it. It was going to be just him against me, with
Lisa excitedly watching.
gave me a hard shove in the chest and coldly said, "I am going to beat
your ass!" Suddenly, Lisa shouted, "Wait!" I thought for a moment that she was going to
stop the fight, but then she said, "Before you start, both of you take off
your shirts." I could not believe it, but took off my shirt anyway, as did
Rick. He was a little taller than me,
but I was much more muscular. So there
we were, stripped to waist and preparing to fight, if not "over" Lisa,
at least for Lisa's entertainment.
was still in a bit of disbelief when Rick punched me square in the mouth. I
could feel and taste the blood coming from my rapidly swelling lip. This cleared my mind and the fight was on! I
squared up on him and he threw a wild punch, which I easily ducked under. I then came up with a straight right to his
face, followed by a left hook to his jaw, knocking him down. Lisa was only
about 5 feet away and was moving around to get the best view. I looked over at
Lisa and as she looked down at Rick, her eyes were wide open in amazement, her
hands cupped over her now gasping mouth.
I don't know why I failed to press my advantage at that moment, instead
of jumping on him while he was down. Perhaps the site of the mesmerized Lisa
mesmerized me. I charitably allowed him to get up.
rose in a wobbly fashion. Both Lisa and I could see he was hurt. He threw another wild punch, which I easily
ducked, and came up with a brutal shot to Rick's gut. Both Lisa and I could hear the explosion
caused by the air rushing out of his stomach. Rick fell to his knees, holding his aching
midsection, struggling to catch his breath.
Rick managed to call out, in between
gasps for air, "OK, I give. No
more." The feeling of having my defeated opponent on his knees, completely
at my mercy, with Lisa watching was indescribable.
looked over at Lisa. As Lisa's eyes came upward from viewing her defeated
boyfriend, she looked back at me as if to mouth the words, "Finish
him!" So I grabbed Rick by the hair
and brutally brought his face into oncoming knee. Rick's blood sprayed from his face upon
impact. He went completely limp and it
was indisputable that he was knocked out. I held him up by the hair for just a
few moments, savoring the victory, and then allowed him to fall helplessly,
unconscious, right at Lisa’s feet. She looked down at him laying there for a
moment and then looked me, took her hands away from her mouth and softly said, "That
was awesome!" Coming back to reality, I picked up my shirt, wiped the
blood from my mouth and said, "He’s your boyfriend, you take care of him,"
and I walked away. As I walked, it was
the most amazing feeling to have won a fight with Lisa watching. I had always desired Lisa, but she was 2 years
older than me and it seemed like she always had a boyfriend.
days after the fight, I went over to my best friend's house to swim in his pool
and hang out for a while. When I
arrived, I was surprised to see that Lisa was there, laying out in the sun by
the pool with my friend's sister. Lisa was
in a skimpy little bikini, all oiled up with Hawaiian Tropic sun tan oil. She looked so damned hot!
noticed my arrival and called me to come over to her. As I approached, I could hear her telling the story of the fight to my friend’s sister. Lisa was gushing about how awesome she
thought the fight between Rick and I had been.
As I overheard Lisa excitedly recounting the details of my fight, I could feel my cock growing to full strength. Soon, Lisa could see how
hard I was. I felt like I was going to cum all over myself. My balls were literally aching just from
looking at her in that bikini. When she finally finished the story, she looked up
at me and said, "You know, I think the winner needs to be rewarded, so
come with me." We went inside the house to the spare bedroom
and she quickly locked the door behind us. Lisa said she broke up with Rick because she
now knows he’s a loser. She sat down on
the edge of the bed and told me strip so I did. I was standing there naked in
front of her as she inspected me. My
rock hard cock was starting to leak some pre-cum. In anticipation of what I thought was to come,
I was in heaven.
Lisa then told me that
for my reward, she going to allow me to taste her cum and told me to lay down
on the bed. I watched her slowly take off her bikini. She then climbed on top of me
and straddled my face, grabbing me by the hair, and began grinding her hips to
pleasure herself with my outstretched tongue. I can still taste the intense
sweetness of her juices. Lisa
reached a thunderous orgasm, loudly moaning and wildly bouncing as she
came. She then abruptly
dismounted my face. Lisa
said she was finished with me and proceeded to put her bikini back on. She fixed her hair, opened the door
and left me on the bed, hard on still straining, just laying there.
Lisa left for college about 2 weeks later and I never saw or heard from her
The gorgeous young actress and model, Sophia Bush, seems to have a deep liking of watching men fight each other. The knockout former star of One Tree Hill, and now of NBC's Chicago P.D., has been captured out in public as she soaked in a few violent sporting events.
At 32 years old (as of today, July 8th - happy birthday), standing 5'4" and weighing in at 121 pounds, this petite hazel-eyed babe leaves us drooling with her tantalizing 35C-25-34 shape. And it certainly doesn't hurt our opinion of her that she seems thrilled to watch guys clobber each other in violent competition.
Sophia has been quoted as saying, "I love boxing. There's something fierce about using your body's force that way." Presumably, watching men display that "ferocity" is something of an aphrodisiac for our fair maiden.
Here, lovely Sophia (left) and her attractive friend (Monica) double date for a Fight Night event.
Here, the sexy starlet (left) and her female friend each hug on Mike Tyson. Sophia clearly loves a man that's willing and able to chew another guy's ear off.
And here, the beautious Sophia (right) and her very stunning female friend go nuts as they watch two guys fight during an LA Kings hockey game. Yes, that's Sophia, screaming encouragement and pounding on the glass, as her gorgeous smiling companion yells for the men to fight.
There's no doubt that Sophia is our kind of lovely lady. While we can't find any demonstrated statement that would suggest she's turned on by the male on male violence she watches, it is unquestioned that she is excited by it and enjoys it quite a bit. Let's hope that the excitement she outwardly shows is matched by some internal sexual excitement.
Two attractive wives (one caucasian and one asian) intently watch their men tussle at at a meeting of a social club. The asian man appears to be gaining the advantage over his white opponent, getting him in some sort of arm lock. Surely, the women are thinking that it won't be long before the asian man will have the white man down on the floor, begging for mercy. They do not speak aloud, but what is their internal dialogue at this moment? The asian wife is no doubt impressed and happily anticipating the further dominance of the white guy by her man. She might be thinking, "break his arm," and "get him down and make him scream." She is most probably excited and turned on by the sight of this scuffle. The white wife may feel regret and embarrassment over seeing her man get dominated like this. Or, she might think, "break his arm, get him down and show him no mercy!" She may share the sentiments of the asian wife. Instead, she may be excited and turned on by the fact her man is getting dominated and is soon to be humiliated by a superior man. There's no doubt that both are fixated and entranced. They've moved forward to watch the conflict up close, and personal. Will they break their silence and let their desires be known, or will they hold those desires discreetly to themselves? We certainly hope that they will at some point express their intimate feelings about this event.
Here's a little eye candy for the ladies, mostly focusing on men wrestling each other. Ladies, please let me hear from you in the comments section below as to what you like and dislike. That helps me to try to cater our content to match your desires on a more consistent basis. And of course, our guy readers always get off on hearing what you have to say on the subject. Thank you all.
Powerful competitors strain for advantage, early in the match.
A combination backbreaker and package torture finish is applied.
The loser of the office cockfight is left humiliated and naked on the ladies' room floor, for all of the women spectators to verbally and physically abuse him.
The younger man "finishes" his older, studly opponent, to the delight of the spectators.
The ripped and cocky champ is stripped naked and choked out in the ring.
Nerd gets stripped, beaten and kicked betwixt the legs in front of some ladies, whilst waiting for an elevator.
The confident champ applies scissors and yanks back on the handsome challenger's face.
The bigger man hurts, humiliates and pins down the athletic but smaller man near the lockers.
Deanna Brooks just turned 30 this past week, and remains every bit as stunningly beautiful as she has ever been. She retains the kind of petite hard body that drives most men wild, standing just 5'4" and weighing in at 107 lbs. She rocks an amazing 36-24-35 frame that you can bounce quarters off of, but nevertheless, retains all of its feminine appearances. She is a former cheerleader and bank teller who became Playboy's Playmate of the Month for May of 1998.
Deanna is one of the few Playboy models who has been able to make a sustained career out of modeling. She's consistently worked for Playboy since her 1998 selection as Playmate, doing promotional appearances and appearing in no less than ten (10) Playboy-produced videos. She's made appearances in at least seven movies and on numerous television shows, most notably playing the role of "Janine" in the 2005 movie, "Candy Stripers," and as a groupie in the hilarious comedy, "Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story."
Ms. Brooks has shown an affinity for men's boxing and MMA matches, regularly attending such events. She especially makes appearances at those boxing and MMA events that are organized by Playboy, as Playboy's Fight Night promotions.
Just listen to the evil and sexy "sizzle" in Deanna's voice as she describes the "pain" a losing fighter feels before he is made to submit:
Whether the emotion Deanna is displaying is just good acting or a genuine, heartfelt arousal from watching one man submitting another by painful means, it certainly captures the essence of the female emotion that we love so much, as well as find to be extremely arousing.
You can view the 80 or so photos taken during the Playboy shoot, only some of which made it into publication in the magazine, here:
Ladies, you have no idea how much we treasure your input and contributions. We are desperately looking for women to contribute material and feedback, and will basically do whatever it takes to earn your trust.
We can introduce many types of measures to give you comfort, like moderated comments for your contributions, use of pen names, assistance with research, art work, translation and more.
Please know we are dedicated to the proposition that women are the driving force in human society. We are most definitely ready, willing and able to fight for you - to the death if necessary, or even if unnecessary, if that is just what you prefer. Us men were made to produce offspring and orgasms for you. Nothing more.
If you've thought about contributing, but are reticent, please let me know what we can do to make you comfortable in sharing here, via private e-mail to: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Please know that we very much want and need both your contributions and feedback!
A recent posting in the forum about women who suffer from the condition called "hybristophilia," basically an aberrant sexual attraction to/arousal by men who have committed heinous acts of violence, piqued my interest. I think we've all known about the existence of this phenomenon, even though we might not have known what to call it. Yes, there are a fair number of female groupies out there who essentially want to mate with the serial killers and bad boys. I'll let you search for the term on your own and read more about the theories on this mental state, as well as it's causation. To the left is just one example of a lovely looking lady that might be termed a hybristophiliac. While I have to say that the Dahmer case was particularly reviling, there's no denying that Karen Rasmunsen is physically hot, and has some notions in her head that we would probably find to be stimulating. At the same time, there's a naive delusional sense to her explanations that would give anyone pause in associating with her. While being mindful of the extreme pain and loss Dahmer caused, exploring Karen's reasons for this arousal by a man associated with such extreme violence might nevertheless be a rewarding experience.
To a certain extent, there is a thrilling aspect to the drama surrounding such extreme violence. While I cannot say that the supremely sexy Susan Lucci has an attraction or arousal to such violence, she certainly uses the sexual impact of it to sell programming on the Discovery Channel off-shoot, called the Investigation Discovery channel. Susan regularly pitches some of the most violent programming being aired by ID, utilizing all of her feminine wares of seduction to lure viewers in. Her voice and expressions are tailored to say, "hey, this is hot." And the "hot" product she's pitching are vignettes concerning women who either provoke violence between men, or commit violence, themselves. No, Susan is not trying to breed a new generation of hybristophiliacs, but she isn't afraid to capitalize upon some of the same feelings of arousal, intrigue and vulnerabilities that are aligned with hybristophilia.
An important element of hybristophilia seems to be that the aroused woman is more of the voyeur of violence that has occurred in the past, not the present. She may or may not envision the violence continuing after she mates with the violent man. Often, they seem to be deluded into thinking the violence would discontinue once she has given her love and affection to the subject of the strange attraction. Still, there clearly are women who just love to watch men commit violence upon other men. They want a more active, vicarious role in the extreme violence to be played out. For instance, the curvy young lady to the left is named Ebony Geddie, an attractive 19 year-old who knowingly lured a Brooklyn man, using naked photos of herself and the promise of sex, to his eventual death in her presence. She performed oral sex on the killer as they waited for the victim to arrive at the location of his murder. When the victim arrived, she began seducing him, then backed away and watched her lover shoot the man, point blank. Ebony is definitely a unique case and there is probably much more that could be learned about her motivations. But it is doubtless that her actions in this 2011 incident connect extreme violence between men and sexual arousal on her own part.
Of course, there is the now well-known case of Miranda Barbour. Miranda, also 19, placed seductive ads on Craigslist, hoping to lure a man to her, where the unsuspecting victim would be killed by her newlywed husband as she watched; and even helped. One unfortunate central Pennsylvania man decided to make the connection with Miranda, and subsequently found himself getting strangled with a cord from behind by Miranda's husband. Miranda watched the strangling, but when death didn't come to the victim fast enough for her, she stabbed him with a knife. They both listened to the victim gasp as they looked for a location to dump him. Miranda's husband admitted that the couple had tried several times before to find a victim, but that it just hadn't worked until this occasion. One can only theorize from this state of affairs that Miranda made connections in her mind between this planned and carried-out extreme violence and her own sexual arousal. A chilling story, reminiscent of the 1984 movie, "Natural Born Killers." To read more about Miranda, search for her name and more than 50,000 stories will come up, including self-proclaimed accounts that she has killed men on multiple occasions in several different states.
Finally, at least for this post, we review the case of the sadistic Margaux Tocci. Margaux, another 19 year-old, is a physically attractive former cheerleader who lured her ex-boyfriend to a dark New Jersey parking lot, where her current boyfriend and his friend awaited the arrival of the "ex" with a baseball bat and metal pipe. When the "ex" arrived, he was brutally attacked and beaten by the two men, as Margaux watched and cheered the beating on. After the assault was over, Margaux happily jumped into the car with the two assailants and left her "ex" lying on the ground, a bloody, beaten mess. She was so happy about the night's events that she couldn't stop smiling long enough for the police to take her mug shot.
No doubt, these are some intense cases of women who sought and provoked extreme violence between men, or at least sought to sexually connect with men who have committed gruesome violence. Obviously, each of these instances resulted in horrific consequences for the victims, heartbreak for their families and appropriately, severe legal punishment for the perpetrators. But one has to question how many women out there have the propensity for these types of acts? How many women make a connection between such violence and arousal? How many women make the connection between male violence and their own arousal, but would never provoke an actual violent act, instead just enjoying it in the "abstract" or in theory? There are many questions that these cases raise, and so very few answers.
Dressed in slinky, killer black dresses, all dolled up, young and gorgeous, sitting down front, where they can see and hear all the action, acting giddy, flirty, maybe even turned on, while in the audience for some man vs. man MMA fights.
For our next installment of a lovely who loves to watch man- on-man violence, I bring you the statuesque babe, Taylor Makakoa Dew. She sometimes goes by Taylor Dew, and often times by Taylor Makakoa, but no matter what configuration is applied to her name, the power of her physical appearance remains, well, overwhelming!
Taylor, soon to be 26, is Hawaiian by birth, and grew up as a practitioner of her native hula and Tahitian dancing traditions. She now resides in Las Vegas and is married to the world-renowned ventriloquist, Terry Fator. She stands an impressive 5'10", with a sturdy but shapely 39-26-39 chassis. As you can see, every aspect of this woman is simply superb and far more than ample.
She is a solidly accomplished model, having appeared in shoots for corporate clients like Cadillac, as well as been featured in shoots for both Maxim and Playboy magazines. Somewhere around age 18, she became the on-stage assistant for Fator during his long-running act at the Mirage Hotel and Casino, on the Vegas Strip. The two eventually fell in love and joined forces, not just on stage, but in every facet of life. The two continue to perform together, and Fator remains under contract with the Mirage through 2016.
Taylor's main experience in relation to men fighting each other has come as a ring girl for men's boxing matches. On the right, she is pictured in a photo taken by Tom Donoghue, a contributing photographer for the Las Vegas Sun, as she served in the role for an ESPN Fight Night: The Future of Boxing. But the beauty actually has expressed a yearning for more raw violence, and a closer viewpoint to that much more extreme action.
In talking to Fightmagazine.com, Taylor confided that, "I was never really a fan of boxing, but the first time I saw MMA on TV, it was like, ‘Wow! If you were to get into a fight on the street, that’s how you win—that’s how you survive!’ I just loved it, so I started watching with all my friends. I love everything about MMA." Clearly, this sexy lady is looking to see something akin to street fights - far more intense violence than that provided by the mere sweet science.
Moreover, Taylor doesn't just want to watch that intense male violence from afar. She wants an up close and personal view, where even the sprays of blood and sweat of the fighters can reach her. "I love MMA . . . . I would love to be a part of it by being a ring girl, I would love to be closer to the action and be able to see what happens inside the ring, from inside the ring," Taylor told Revgear.com.
We can only surmise that Taylor's fascination with and desire for personal closeness to the extreme violence of MMA fights has something to do with the emotional effects that watching such fights has on her. We certainly hope (and pray) that the sights and sounds of men intensely fighting each other stirs her inner passions and libido. But alas, to our knowledge and dismay, she has never explicitly said so. She nevertheless remains a stunningly beautiful young woman who has affirmatively expressed a fairly aggressive desire to witness men fighting in extreme fashion, and wants to see it happen right in front of her.
I know that I would be thrilled to fight another man in MMA/street fight fashion, knowing that Taylor was watching with excited interest, from only a few feet away. How about you?
Editor's Note: This is the first in a series of pieces where we will introduce you to lovely, real women who at least enjoy watching fights, and in some cases, find sexual excitement from watching men fight each other.
Dude, imagine yourself as an MMA fighter. Imagine that you are part of a random competition, where a lovely young lady gets to pick fighters from a pool and match them against each other. Then imagine that the lovely young lady stands in her bra and panties at ringside, excitedly watching the fighters brawl inside the octagon. She takes sides. She cheers some fighters on. She lets other fighters know that she's rooting against them. She is in every sense as active as a spectator can be. And its your turn to enter the ring. There she is, sizing you up. You can tell she's thinking about whether to cheer you on or to hope you are vanquished. She has matched you against a formidable opponent. You wonder to yourself, who is she?
Allow us to introduce to you the amazing Stephanie Ann Cook, a super-hot 24 year-old blonde who lives in Las Vegas, Nevada, but was born in Rockford, Illinois. She's truly passionate about MMA. She stands just 5'6, weighs 120 lbs. and rocks a lovely 34B-26-33 frame. She's a professional model, working corporate events such as car shows, demonstrations at conventions and the like. She also works with charities focusing on children.
She was asked to be an MMA ring card girl for an event in 2010 as part of a modeling assignment, and since then, she claims to have been "in love" with MMA. She works as a ring card girl for independent MMA leagues, as well as the moderately organized TUFF N' UFF league. She may well earn herself a huge promotion one day to the ranks of UFC Ring Girl, where national attention and a deserved increase in pay will finally come her way.
Stephanie is an avid fan of MMA, but boxing and wrestling were the primary combat sports she first watched while growing up. After she graduated from school, MMA began to get popular. According to Stephanie, "[i]t brought back the excitement I love about watching fights. I've always been drawn to fights and fighting, throughout life, in real life and on television." Stephanie adds, "I love all forms of fighting, boxing, muay thai and so forth." One has to wonder what sort of emotional reactions Stephanie has as she watches men fight each other. And one has to wonder what "all forms of fighting" includes, in Stephanie's mind. Perhaps some day, we'll get the chance to further develop our understanding of her love of fights and fighting.
Clearly, Stephanie is a knockout who loves to watch men fight each other. As she stands at ringside, peering through the fencing and screaming at the top of her lungs, what does she see? Gentlemen, how does it feel to be fighting in front of Stephanie? Do you prevail or get vanquished in front of her? What is Stephanie's reaction? Ladies, compare your interest in this subject to that expressed by Stephanie. Would you aspire to being an MMA Ring Card Girl? Why or why not? Please address these questions, or reflect on the contents of this piece, in the comments section below.
A stunning brunette wife and her handsome, fit, young husband have gone on vacation at a secluded tropical island. While the couple are sunning themselves, a similarly fit, good-looking young man wanders onto the beach. The stranger sees the beautiful face and amazing bikini body of the hot wife and strikes up a conversation with her. The husband is fine with the interaction at first, but becomes angry when the stranger and wife turn from mere talking to overtly flirting with each other. The men have a brief confrontational discussion. The hot wife, obviously turned on by the advances of the stranger, then suggests that perhaps the two boys should settle this "man to man." The guys jostle with each other a bit, and the hot wife finally says to them, "I want you two to fight it out, winner gets me!" The men square off and fight it out. The stranger is more athletic and dominant. While the hot wife screams encouragement to the stranger, he gets on top of the husband and strangles him, eventually leaving the husband unresponsive, lying on the beach. Hence, we see the scene above, with the hot wife lying over her defeated husband's body, affectionately holding the victorious stranger's wrist, and laughing hysterically at the manner in which her husband was so easily dominated by this sexy "other" man. Soon after, the stranger and the hot wife (perhaps now, hot widow?) head back to the beachfront cottage the married couple previously occupied together. The hot wife and sexy dominant stranger then share raw, animal-like intimacy. The kind of guttural intimacy that comes only from the powerful stimulation produced by physical confrontation, which they both just experienced in their own unique ways, on the secluded beach.
It's no secret that women often naturally gravitate to the "alpha male." The muscular brute who can, and sometimes does, beat down other men in front of them. Many women say that just the thought that their man can dominate other men is a turn on. BK26 submits this photo, which is a perfect example of the estrogen-filled hysteria that can occur around a truly dominant, muscular male. Now, to be sure, this scene is most likely a staged one. But if you examine the numerous statements of women on the subject of male dominance to be found on the Internet, it is in no way unrealistic. Social media is replete with statements made by genuine females about the fact that they find such dominance to be a huge turn on. What percentage of women actually seek to see that dominance translated into actual violence, rather than mere "capacity" for dominance, is somewhat debatable. But clearly, most women find the idea of male dominance over other males to be sexually exciting. Whether this is in the form of an abstract concept in their minds, not to actually be practiced, or a true fetish to see such dominance actuated in reality, it is a remnant of the evolution of our species, where dominance has always equaled protective capability; a definite female aphrodisiac.
Something comes over her. Her heart races. Adrenaline fills her veins. Her blood pressure rises. She's suddenly supremely alert and at attention. Her eyes widen, pupils dilated. Her mouth goes dry. Her skin erupts with goosebumps. She leans forward for a better view. Her nipples harden. She becomes both excited and aroused. Her body takes over, she can no longer control the way it reacts to the stimuli before her.
The glands in her groin begin to react, adding further fluid to her already-moist love nest. And as she watches, she screams for more, urging on the spectacle before her. Her senses are filled with input, from the visual sights, to the audible sounds being made. As she eggs on the festivities, she becomes more and more aroused. More fluid uncontrollably leaks from her loins. Her panties are now visibly wet. She can't help but touch herself, as she watches . . .
Warning: This is a video of two attractive young women apparently taking pleasure in watching a video of a real "man on man" murder. If the sort of callous indifference for a man's life, just described, reviles or offends you, please don't hit the play button.
Earlier today, I received a very troubling e-mail from Candy, wherein she basically threw me the keys to this blog and abandoned ship. When I tried to reply to her e-mail, the server came back with the statement her e-mail account was closed.
Although I have been sporadically helping Candy with the blog since its inception, I am in no position to administer this enterprise. So, I am wondering whether any of you are interested in taking over as administrator, or perhaps sharing the role with others.
Obviously, I am hoping that someone (or two or more people) who is deeply interested in the subject matter of the blog, is open to the ideas of others (even if they disagree with them), and has demonstrated maturity, will step forward.
By Nurse Heather When they first brought Tommy and Frank in, no one thought they would survive.
The two brothers had been hiking in the mountains when a freak early snow storm caught them off guard. By the time they were found, both were frost-bitten and malnourished. Infections had invaded their bodies. They looked like the corpses you see in concentration camp photos.
But modern medicine can do some remarkable things. Though they could not tolerate solid food, IVs kept them nourished and fought the infections. They were both very weak, possibly crippled for life, but they were alive. Before I met them, anyway. I worked the overnight shift, when it was very quiet. They mostly slept, but when they were awake, I got to know them, how devoted they were to each other, how that devotion had been what had kept them going when they were stranded. I also learned that despite their extremely weakened condition, both exhibited the normal desires of twenty-something young men. When I flashed my cleavage, their heart monitors jumped. Bending over, letting them catch a glimpse of my panties, practically blew their gaskets. Barely alive, they still competed for my affections.
Maybe the only thing they wanted more than my pussy was a solid meal. Living on IVs for several months creates amazing longing in the young and recently-virile. I would occasionally eat in front of them just to test out their desire and was always rewarded with glassy eyes and drooling mouths. Of course, they slept most of the time, and that was when I saw to more mundane things. I would replace their medications and daily nutritional doses with simple saline solutions to make sure that they would grow weaker and weaker over time. The doctors were disheartened by the downturn, but then nobody had really expected them to pull through anyway. Teasing them was fun but I knew that pretty soon, someone would catch on so I decided to bring this little game to a close.
Both were asleep when I brought the steak dinner into their room, but the aroma soon woke them. I told them I hoped they didn’t mind, but I hadn’t had time to eat before my shift. The look of unsatisfied hunger in their eyes was priceless. Soon, they were begging me for a taste. I told them that would be dangerous, given their weakened conditions. When they said they could handle it, I proposed a little test. I set up the steak at the far end of the room, then unstrapped them from their IVs and had them “race” to see who could get to the steak first.
I only wish I had thought to film what happened next, because it was as funny as any slapstick comedy you’ve ever seen. Both fell a half a dozen times on their way to the food. When it looked like they couldn’t go on anymore, I moved the tray closer to give them incentive to get up again. Then I moved it farther away again. But this got old pretty fast. I mean, seeing pathetic losers falling down is funny, but I thought they could do better.
I gave them each a cane to help them hobble across the room. But they still weren’t providing enough entertainment. So then, I sat next to their meal and spread my legs. I began rubbing my pussy and told them that steak wasn’t the only thing the winner would get.
Frank’s eyes bugged out and he practically hopped to his feet. Tommy, seeing his brother getting ahead of him, did the only thing he could. He swung his cane and caught Frank in the shins, sending him sprawling. Finally, a little action. Well, during the next 15 minutes, I sat casually rubbing my clit while these two loving brothers proceeded to use whatever feeble strength they had left to smash each other with wooden canes. Frank rammed the end of his cane into Tommy’s foot at one point, shattering the brittle bones. Tommy tackled Frank and used his cane as a lever to dislocate Frank’s shoulder. Frank used his remaining good arm to punch Tommy in the balls, then swung his cane down across Tommy’s face, cracking his brother’s skull in the process.
All the while, I cheered for them and unbuttoned my blouse, letting them see what they were fighting for!
As Tommy’s head bled and his eyes rolled back, Frank stopped for a moment, realizing what he had done. He looked at me helplessly, but there was nothing to be done. (Actually, there was plenty to be done, but it required fast action and someone who gave a shit.) Tommy was moments away from death and Frank wore the most pathetic look I’ve ever seen. I tossed the steak on the floor by Tommy’s head so that it landed in his seeping blood. Frank gave in and began gnawing at the flesh.
While he was otherwise occupied, I hit the emergency button by the door and tore my bra off. Then I dipped my hand in Tommy’s blood and smeared it over my clothes. Frank finished his last meal just as the door burst open and Tyrone, our hulking overnight orderly, rushed in. I screamed and told him that Frank had tried to attack me. When Tommy had tried to intervene, Frank grabbed the cane and beat his own brother to death. Frank’s feeble brain could barely understand what was happening, but he certainly understood Tyrone’s fist smashing into his face.
I’m pretty sure Tyrone’s first punch snapped Frank’s neck, and he probably didn’t even feel the other six punches that turned his face to mush, but I’d like to think whatever physical pain he felt at the end was dwarfed by the realization that he had murdered his own brother. I thanked Tyrone profusely right there in Frank’s bed. As he plowed into me, I looked at the two broken bodies still bleeding on the floor. Oh well, no one thought they would make it anyway.
We were enjoying a late night drink in a bar when my husband visited the
toilet. As soon as he was gone a staggering, muscle-bound young man
crashed down next to me, grinning like a drunken ape.
"Hey Sweet cheeks! Y'fancy a hot beef injection?" His cider breath burping into my face as he leered at my breasts.
"Nice sweater puppies, sexy pants, I'm Bry!"
"I don't like how you are talking to me and my husband will be back
soon!" I told him, my voice quivering as I tried to sound assertive.
"What, y'don't like young cock?" He asked incredulously.
We reckoned a fuckbunny like you'd be drooling clitty litter like a fuck'n pit bull for some young cock!"
"Here's my husband!" I told him, relieved to see Jonny walking across.
My drunken admirer shot a quick look at Jonny and then continued to stare at my breasts.
"Fuck off, mate!" Bry said as soon as Jonny arrived. "I'm tapping up the MILF cooch!"
And then to me, "Y'wanna play hide the sausage then, Sugar Tits?"
I looked at Jonny, expecting him to intervene and was utterly dismayed
when he just stood helplessly, his weedy body stooped submissively and
his eyes wide with fear watching his wife being insulted.
"Erm.....I think we should leave." Jonny finally said, pathetically quietly and warily.
"Nah, mate! This sausage jockey's staying here to get her ham flap's
fucked!" He said without even looking round and actually grabbing my
breast through my blouse. Jonny held out his hand for me.
"Come on. We're leaving!"
"Fuck off, mate! I've told you once!" Bry said, turning on Jonny and
giving him a shove with one muscular arm. James's puny body flew
backwards, his face like a rabbit in headlights, as he landed arse first
in the pool of his spilt drink.
Realising Jonny was going to be completely useless as my protector, I
pushed past Bry and left, telling my husband to follow me with complete
Needless to say, I was furious and Jonny and I argued all night. He just
sat there, making excuses for his cowardice like 'it's better not to
cause trouble' and 'fighting's uncivilised'. I called him a wimp and and
found myself loathing his sad, puny frame as he sat hunched and beaten,
taking my verbal assault like a frightened puppy.
I made him sleep in the spare room. I went to bed to angry too sleep and
tossed about in bed reliving the evening and James's pathetic failure
to protect me. But as I calmed down, I found myself thinking about Bry's
muscular torso. He must have been about the same age as my son, and it
was quite flattering that he had found a woman of fifty worth chatting
up. I pictured his giant biceps flexing under his T-shirt as he had
thrown Jonny like a rag doll and my fingers slid down to my pussy. I
began to swirl my finger around my clitoris, picturing his powerful
torso and his animal attraction to me.
Strong, selfishly misogynistic, impulsive, I pictured him taking me,
fucking me, no love making, just using me and discarding me. Nothing
like the pathetic gentle love making James tried.
He had no regard for my pleasure, just rutting me like an animal, his
powerful thrusts ramming into me with ferocious force. Jonny tried to
stop him, and he stopped long enough to smash his balls and face.
Waves of pleasure soured through my body as I climaxed picturing Bry beating my husband.
Afterwards, I lay luxuriating in one of the most intense orgasms I could
remember whilst James lay humiliated and disgraced in the other room. I
never thought I would be aroused at the idea of my husband being
humiliated and beaten but something had changed. Overnight I had lost
all respect for Jonny, I almost despised his puny body and pathetic
intellectualism, and I wanted him to be beaten up by Bry who would then
Over breakfast the next morning, I continued my verbal assault as Jonny
sat looking dejected and miserable. I brow beat him into submission,
surprised at my own feelings of contempt, and swore to leave the
pathetic wimp if he didn't take me back to the bar and stand up for me.
He looked terrified, made every excuse he could think of, and then
defeated and scared, he actually agreed. My pussy was soaking in
expectation of his beating.
Jonny actually spent the week doing press-ups in a hilarious attempt to
match my young man at the bar and on Friday we went to the bar.
I dressed like a slut, more daringly than I had ever dressed before,
hoping that my exposed cleavage and thighs would entice plenty of
violence towards my husband.
At the door to the pub I turned to Jonny.
"Scared sweetie?" I sneered at him and then walked into the bar, Jonny following tentatively.
"Hi Bry, remember me?" I said perkily, giving Bry a wave where he stood at the pool table.
"Hey, It's Sugar Tits! And this time your flashing the juggies! Nice one fuckbunny!" Bry shouted across the bar.
"Well, get me a drink!" I snapped at Jonny, sitting on a stool by the
pool table so Bry could see my short skirt and low-cut top whenever he
wanted. By the time James had bought a drink, Bry was over with his
usual charming chat up lines.
"I bet that clunge is fuck'n dripping for a good porking! Eh, Muffin?"
I pushed my breasts out for him. "All for you, if you can get past my hubby!" I told him, my pussy dripping with expectation.
"That fuck'n wimp!" Bry sneered. Jonny came over with the drinks and Bry immediately poured James's pint over his head.
"Fuck of, dick-head! The yummy-mummy wants some young cock pounding her tuna taco tonight!"
Jonny stood, dripping in lager, actually trembling with fear. His cowardice made me sick.
"Go on then, defend me!" I snapped.
"Erm.....no she's not!" Was Jonnys outstandingly witty rejoinder. Then
he swang at Bry, his skinny arm flailing uselessly as his fist tapped
Bry on the cheek. I felt my pussy tingle as Bry's eyes clouded over with
immense fury. His hand slid into his pocket and came out with a steel
knuckle duster on his fingers. I nearly came as Bry's fist slammed into
Jonny's face, busting his nose and splattering blood with one hit. James
crumpled to the floor.
"Wanker!" Bry said dismissively and spat on Jonny.
This was so hot and I wanted more. I blew Bry a kiss and then bent down to Jonny.
"Come on! Defend me, you wimp!" He was clutching his smashed nose and moaning.
"Pathetic!" I told him and went over to Bry and actually kissed him this
time. Bry just stood there grinning as I wrapped my arms around his
broad shoulders and rubbed my pussy against his thigh.
"Please, make him hurt more!" I whispered into his ear. I felt Bry's big
hand push up my skirt. I wasn't wearing any panties, so his fingers
went straight up my soaking pussy. I couldn't believe I was actually
doing this. Having my husband beat up and letting a stranger touch my
most intimate parts. I was so turned on.
"Fuck'n'hell! This whore monkey's so desperate her cock socket feels
like a horse chewing oats!" Bry announced to the bar, making me blush.
He took his hand out of my pussy and wandered over to hurt Jonny.
"Get up, wimp. Your wife wants me to hit you again!"
When Jonny didn't respond, Bry yanked him up by his hair and then
winking at me, punched my husband in the stomach. Jonny buckled forward,
sounding like he was vomiting, and his face crashed into Bry's raised
knee. Bry grabbed Jonny's head and pummelled his face with his knee.
When he finished, Jonny fell to the floor, his puny body completely
limp. His nose was pouring blood and clearly broken. His lips and eyes
were swollen and vomit slid from his slack mouth. Bry swaggered back
over to me, putting his hand back up my pussy.
"You're loving this aren't you, y'fuck'n bushpig!" He took his hand out
of my pussy and brought it up to my lips. It was covered in my pussy
juices and Jonny's blood. I licked Bry's hand, staring lustfully into
"Hurt his balls! Please, make him cry! This is making me so wet" I begged.
"Okay, fuck pig! I wanna see you soaking the whisker biscuit though!"
I looked anxiously round the bar. There was only a couple of young men who were with Bry and the barman in the room.
"Y'all wanna see the cock jockey gusset typing?" Bry asked the room to a
loud cheer. I was desperate to see my husband hurt more so I hitched up
my skirt and brazenly began playing with my clitoris in front of the
men. In one evening I had gone from a happily married middle aged woman
to some slut who flashed her pussy to strangers and masturbated while
her husband was battered. I felt more alive and sexy than ever.
Bry bent over my husband's limp body and stripped it from the waist
down. I could hear Jonny moaning weakly as his body was dragged across
the floor. Bry had his friends hold one of Jonny's legs each as he lay
face up on the floor and then proceeded to viciously kick my husband's
balls over and over. By the time he stopped, Bry was out of breath and
Jonny had gone from begging, to screaming, to a constant wailing.
"Fuck'n'hell! That was some workout!" Bry said, his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath.
"A bit more.....I'm going to cum!" I begged, frantically working my
clit. With a look of disbelief, Bry grabbed a glass off the counter and
put it over Jonny's battered cock and balls. Leaping into the air he
landed boots first on the glass, shattering it under his heels and
driving the shards of glass into Jonny's cock and balls. He ground his
boot heel over and over into Jonny's groin and I loudly climaxed on my
fingers. Jonny was unconscious now and badly needed hospital
intervention and I badly needed Bry to fuck me.
"Fuck me!" I pleaded.
"What a fucked up cum dump!" He said with contempt and then dragged me
by my wrist to the men's toilet. He pushed me to my knees and I rabidly
unzipped his cock and took it into my mouth. Just the thought of
pleasuring the man who had beaten my husband unconscious was
overwhelmingly sexy and I licked and sucked him devotedly.
"Y'know what the best thing about a blow job is?" I shook my head, his
cock still in my throat. "ten minutes of silence!" His lack of respect
and contempt drove me wild.
He let me slobber on his cock for a few minutes and then pulled his cock
out of my mouth. I immediately hitched up my skirt and turning round,
offered him my jutting arse.
"Here's another one for yer!" He said, his cock head pushing at my
sphincter. I thought it was a mistake and raised my hips to help him
find my pussy, but he slapped my arse down.
"What are the three reasons anal's better than pussy sex?" He snarled, pushing his hard cock against my sphincter.
It's warmer..." His cock forced its way past my opening.
"it's tighter...." He pushed himself all the way in.
"and it's more degrading to the woman." He laughed, suddenly yanking my
arms aside so that my face fell onto the toilet floor. He held my face
there with one strong hand on my neck and pounded my arse without mercy.
My cheek ground across the filthy toilet floor with each savage thrust
and I rubbed my clitoris frantically. The thought of being taken in such
a degrading way by the man who had destroyed my husband drove me wild.
When I felt Bry's hot seed blasting into my rectum I climaxed savagely,
my sphincter spasming on his hard cock in wave after wave of pleasure.
Always the gentleman, Bry wiped his cock on a handful of my hair and then stood whistling and pissing at the urinal.
"It's fuck'n'true! Women are like dogshit! The older they are, the
easier they are to pick up! See ya next time that desperate cock socket
needs filling, Dog Shit!"
. Jonny had recovered consciousness when we returned to the bar and his
obviously extreme pain and injuries made me want the all powerful Bry
again. I waited for the ambulance squatting over Jonny's battered face
dripping Bry's cum out of my ass onto his swollen lips. We made up some
story to account for the injuries and the paramedics said they expected
Jonny would be in hospital for at least two weeks. I offered Bry two
weeks of free bed, board and sex on the condition he beat my husband
again the moment he got out of hospital.
"Sounds good to me, Dog Shit!" He said, making my pussy tingle.
His face breaks out in sweat as the wimpy guy spots him.
"I'll be right
back,"my boyfriend says, and gives me a kiss before approaching him. "Hi loser,
where are you going?"He pushes him hard so he slams into his
locker right behind him.
"Uhh.... I've just been in the cafeteria..."
"Oh yeah? What did you have?"
"Sorry, this is taking too long." My boyfriend punches the wimp in the belly.
The wimp bends forward, wimpers and throws up on the floor. My boyfriend
turns his head towards me and winks.
I smile and bite my lip.
"Huh. Tough to tell, its just a mess."
The wimp straightens up, and
staggers in the opposite direction. My boyfriend puts a foot out so he
trips. "We're not done just yet. Now, what shall we do next?" he asks,
while bending the wimp's arms behind his back.
He squeals, and begs him to
"Let's see what kind of underwear he's got!" I say with a giggle.
"Good idea, baby!" He picks up the wimp in a standing position. "You
want to do it yourself, or do I have to do it for you?"
running down his cheeks, he says nothing, but unbuttons his pants,
revealing white shorts with red flowers on them.
I burst out in
"Wow!" my boyfriend says. "Does your grandma know you stole her
briefs?" "Let's go," I say to my boyfriend. "I'm starting to get kinda horny." "Sure baby. Let me just show you something. You know what kickboxing movie I told you about earlier?" "Yeah?"
"Watch this!" He moves a bit away from the wimp, and sends him on
the floor with a round-kick. With his face down on the floor, he sobs
loudly. A small, yellow-ish pond develops under him.
"Watch your step,
baby, I think he had an accident," my boyfriend says as he takes my
hand. He kisses me once more, and we're off for somewhere more private. "OK, now I'm defnitely horny!" I say as we leave the poor guy on the floor.