A life long friend of mine used to be married to the quintessential peroxide poster child. Her name was Beth but I called her B.B. Queen (Ball Busting Queen) She was as selfish as a shellfish, hornier than a rat and dumb as a box of hair. She wore more make up on a daily basis` than Tami Fay and Bozo sported in a week of Sunday's. And to top it all off she was famous and feared for having busted more balls in her lifetime than a cue ball in a New Orleans 24/7 pool hall.
I had always done a fairly good job of distancing myself from people like B.B. but I would not be as fortunate with her for two very compelling reasons. First off, she had entered into a lifetime contract of cohabitation with my best friend ... Secondly ... and oh so unfortunate for me, she sported one of the shapeliest heart shaped asses and had thee hottest set of naturally muscled legs that I have ever seen. Also bad for me was that B.B. has always been quite aware herself of all the attention she often gets when she's actively engaging in flaunting her only redeeming attributes. She loves being at the center of attention and usually is. She mastered the art of selfish manipulation as a child and has never looked back. And so as to not ever wanting to leave anything up to chance in that department she used any and all opportunities, no matter how shallow or transparent that they may have been, to showcase her 'vish-ass' and golden gams. And she did it in such a way that was oh so true to herself ... she flaunted her genetic gifts without any hint of shame or mercy.
I still hate the bitch to this day for making me have to look at her trailer-trash ensembles in order to try and get a glimpse at what was underneath. We're talking cut-off jean shorts with a negative half inch inseam. When all of her daisy dukes were in the laundry hamper she would pull out a kid sized pair of orange satin shorts she bought at a Hooters restaurant in Florida when she was 14 years old. These were worn atop a pair of four to five inch stiletto-heeled-fuck-me-pumps over white bobby socks. More often however she would wear her favorite pair of black leather western style ankle boots complete with tassels and spurs. Then to complete her trailer park ensemble she would 'top it off' with a tee shirt that had the sleeves cut off. The bottom of the shirt was also cut off to about the mid-drift all tailored and hemmed to fit as tightly as possible.
All of the above mentioned ended up creating one of the most confused and neurotic nincompoops that you could ever encounter ... That, being ME! I became a total fucking mess for every single moment that she was in my field of view. It was every bit as embarrassing for me as it was torturous because every time I came into contact with her I ended up having to deal with a terminal case of the I'm-back-in-the-6th-grade-and-would-you-care-to-show-your-work-on-the-chalkboard-whilst-sporting-a-terminal-case-of-the-hard-on's. How do you explain having such a rock hard and aching cock while in the process of doing long division ... I'll tell you how ... you do it the same way that you try and explain why your pecker hides behind one of your belt loops every time you're in the presence of someone with such a nasty disposition ... not to mention also being your best friends wife ... You don't explain it because you can't ... You just do your best to hide what is so unspeakably obvious to the one who is so expertly feigning naive while tactically torturing you from afar. I did everything in my power to prevent her from having the satisfaction of knowing that I found her to be stimulating.
Especially in the twisted way that I did.
This.... this.... wench dressed so slutty that she could make a truck stop stripper blush. And speaking of strippers, there was nothing on earth that would make her as mad and mean as fast as her learning that the boys (including her husband) had ended up at a strip joint on one of their infrequent outings. I often trash talked her about how sluttish she dressed when she would rant on and on and on about all those whore-monger strippers. She deeply resented me for debating her on this topic because she had no fact based information and I, at the time, was a walking encyclopedia of strippers in the Southwest and all the joints they worked at . For some reason I seemed to be the only person in our circle of friends/spouses that wouldn't let her uninformed and delusional babbling go on without a challenge.
I was the last guy to get married in my group of friends so as a result, anytime and every time one of my buddies would test the bounds of his domestic bliss and get caught in the act of doing it he would always be quick to point the finger of blame and shame at me for their own indiscretions. I knew that and encouraged them to do so. As a result, over time, most of my friends spouses were never happy to see me coming their way. Especially BB Queenie.
She hated everything about me but I'm sure what she hated the most about me is that I had a penis. Beyond that I had no baggage like children or a an ex. I had freedom to do as I wanted and that alone basically represented everything she found so disgusting about me. I was single, was dating two beautiful women, (we had a non committal relationship)....(all three of us) that was open and out on the table..... and enjoyed all the privileges that went with it. Even though it was common knowledge among my dates, my friends and their spouses, this...this....big mouthed bimbo would always make it a point to let each one of these girls know all about the other one including everything I did with the other and what I would openly do with both of them. She couldn't believe that any woman would 'share' a man so therefore I must have been lying to them.
She hated me and I hated her but I treated her with the level of respect that you give to your buddy's wife knowing that he loved her and was committed to making his marriage work no matter how often and badly his balls got busted and for the most insignificant reasons. As a result of my ability to treat her like a human being from time to time there were a few occasions when we had a decent conversation and actually saw eye to eye on a subject. And that was the subject of......women physically abusing men.
We stumbled upon this topic together one day while I was at my buddies house. He had just left on a quick errand to take one of his kids to a piano lesson. There wasn't room for me in his garbage fill pick up truck to ride along so he told me just to wait and he would be back in a flash. I inquired as to where BB was and he told me she was sleeping off a hang over. I quickly decided that I would watch the boob-tube to pass the time. They didn't have cable so I had my choice of the three major networks. I settled on 'The Jerry Springer show'. Right as my ass hit the couch (there was not remote control for the TV) BB came stumbling out of her bedroom in just her panties and a tee shirt and staggered into the bathroom without even noticing me. She wasn't in there even long enough to take a decent morning wiz when the Springer Intro Music stopped and Jerry started to loudly (the volume was higher than I first realized when I turned on the set but because of a lack of a remote my lazy ass did nothing to correct it) introduce the Days topic. He said something to the effect of, "Domestic abuse has always been a problem in our society. Black eyes, broken bones and a trip to the emergency ward are all too common for many women in abusive relationships. But an ever increasing trend in this country shows that women are fighting back and even winning some of the battles. Our topic today is "WOMEN WHO FIGHT BACK AND WIN!"
Before the 'N' sound of the word 'win' could even fade away from Jerry's lips the door to the bathroom was pulled open with such force that it made the curtains dance in the room that I was sitting in. And there came BB on a tear. She scampered into the room before she even realized that I was there. When she saw me she came to an abrupt stop but focused all of her attention and senses directly at the fuzzy TV screen. Without even looking at me she said 'what are you doing here?" In the middle of my explanation as to why I was watching TV alone in her home she interrupted me with much exasperation in here voice "What are you watching?" and then dashed over to the TV to adjust the antenna for a clearer picture. In all of her excitement she must have forgotten that she was attired in only her 'Rick Springfield" tee-shirt and pink cotton panties that were half way up the crack of her suntanned lined Vish-ass. I tried to pretend like I didn't even know what I was watching much less know the subject matter.
A commercial break was now in progress and she was talking to someone on the phone who had just called and the whole while was adjusting the antenna and turning dials and knobs at a frantic pace. Watching her do this reminded me of the scene in the movie "The wizard of Oz' were Toto has just pulled open the curtain on the guy that was running the contraption that ran the fake wizard and with much frustration and fatigue is now trying to talk to Dorothy and the gang while still running his big rig. During the process of all this calibrating she was contorting her body in every conceivable form and angle giving me a super hot panty-peek-show in the process. I was now lathered up to a such a frightening level that I could no longer speak or even think. Just as the commercial ended she slammed down the telephone, gave the TV a quick head bobbing nod of approval and excitedly jumped into a bean bag chair and stretched out on the floor right in front of the TV giving me a vantage point from which to freely look her over without fear of getting caught by her glancing eyes should she ever find it possible to peel them from the TV. She then said "Oh that was Billy (her husband that was on the errand) he said he had to stop by the lumber yard and wants you to wait for him until he gets back". I tried my best to contain my exhilaration but still ended up coughing "YES!" and "I’ve got some lumber for ya”, into my hand after she had turned her head half way around to look in my direction
So there I was, enjoying both of the shows going on right in front of me. The line up of women was dominated by big and hefty 250 LB 'Mansters' who had taken the ol' man out with the ol' frying pan or rolling pin. But there was one woman who was quite attractive in a Hill-billy kind of way that had punched and kicked her drunk and abusive husband so bad that, afterwards, he was admitted to the hospital for several days.
While Ely-Mae was giving her blow by blow account of the sadistic beating she strapped on the ol' man, BB was adding her own giddy and giggle filled commentary. "Yea! ALRIGHT! TOO BAD FOR THAT CRY BABY! HE DESERVES EVEN MORE! YES! I WOULDN'T HAVE CALLED THE AMBULANCE Then the kicker, "GEE, SOME WOMEN GET TO HAVE ALL THE FUN!"
That's when I finally broke my trance induced silence. I incredulously said "Fun? You think beating someone so bad that they had to go to the hospital would be fun?" Without hesitation she gushed "Well hell yes!" I'd give anything for a chance to do that to a guy" and then trailed off with "If he deserved it like that guy did". The guy had come home pissed off and drunk and had dumped his plate of slop into the lap of his soon to be assailant.
It was during the commercial breaks and some of the boring parts of the show that we first talked about and inquired thoughts from each other on the topic of femdom, specifically M/F physical combat. I knew it was an exciting, and even sexually stimulating, topic for her based upon her body language during the show (major hard nips) and by the way her voiced cracked and a noticeable shortness of breath on her part when she spoke of it.
From that point in our lives onward, men bashing seemed to be the topic of choice every time we found ourselves out of ear shot of everyone else and were able to discuss our thoughts without fear of shame or rejection. It was something that we both found exciting and had similar views on. Even so it was obvious that we both felt it to be a taboo subject matter with anyone other than ourselves. We never agreed not to talk about it with anyone else or in anyone's presences, we just didn't.
I could tell it got her juices flowing real good when ever we shared a story with each other about some woman kicking a mans ass. I had at that time only witnessed one event that I could share so I had to make up stuff when ever she would bring her new stories to me. She would go to the library and pour over magazines and other periodicals in search of these types of stories. She would also have her VCR set for every program that might possibly involve a m/f altercation. I think we only had about four discussions about this ever. But when we did, I could feel some definite sexual tension developing between us. And she couldn't help but notice the sexual tension in my Levis. I knew this because I noticed that she couldn't hide her UPS eyes..(she was always checking out my package)
It was a horrible and torturous thing for me to become aroused with someone that for the most part made my flesh crawl. The worst part was that she had these muscular, yet feminine, legs that I would have given anything to have the chance to get her to wrap them around my head and make me submit to her.,,,, what a total turn on. And all this was going on before I even knew that mixed wrestling existed.
The last time we ever talked about this topic I specifically made the antagonistic point that there was no way that I would ever submit to a woman in combat. She countered with the hypothetical question of 'Oh ya, what if she had you down and was choking the shit out you?' I said there's no way any woman on this earth could hold me down if she was trying to choke me to death''. Then she said something that still pitches my tent to this day when I think back on that steamy debate. She said... “Oh ya, some women have legs that are way stronger than your arms. I'll bet you that my legs are. I know if I was able to knock you down with a sucker punch it would be all over for you”. I told her that I had been knocked down by a punch on several occasions but that I didn't submit because of it. She then said "Wait! I wasn't finished. If I then slammed my big ol’ butt down on your stomach and chest I know it would knock the wind out of you and then I could grab you by the hair and get you in a head lock using my legs. I bet I could make you give then. She ended her rant by stating: "I bet that I could even kill you if you didn't give up in time...”
The whole time she was verbally gushing this she was going through the motions of acting it out. I was a brush of the wind away from cumming in my pants. She then said that she bet her legs were stronger than my arms and that she wished there were some weight machines nearby so she could prove it................
If she would not have been my buddies wife I would have half ass attacked her right there and then and then let her beat the Ba-Jesus out of me in retaliation. I would have liked nothing more than to have done that. And there is little doubt in my mind that she would have enjoyed it as much as me if not even more. It would have been a sexual fantasy for me,,,,, it would have been a power trip thingy for her.
As things turned out my buddy and BB divorced a few years later. While they were separated I spent a lot of time with my buddy and did all I could to help him. He didn't want a divorce because of his kids and he didn't want the kids life to change any more than necessary as a result of the divorce so he just gathered up his razor and his clothes and left her with everything else they owned and did his best to provide the unrealistic child support payments he so unselfishly, yet so unwisely agreed to. He was busting his ass and still kissing hers as best he could but struggled to keep up with the tremendous burden of the unrealistic promise he made to BB and the court system. So she's holding a trip to the county jail over his head and loving it.
I did what I could to help him in that area and also on the moral support ground, which at the time seemed to require a weekly trip to the titty bars. We had a ball up until one day the..... the.... Dick-Stalker followed us into one of the shaker saloons.
I got pissed right away and told her under no uncertain terms to vacate the premises. To which she responded with: "Ya if I leave I'm going to go to the courthouse blah, blah blah......" Knowing all too well in advance as to how much she hated the dreaded 'C' word I replied; "BB, you are without a doubt the skankest anal retentive cunt that has ever disgraced the face of the earth." Suddenly her eyes went wild and opened wide to the point of bulging as she started to shake and tremble and literally bounce up and down in her bar stool. She made a few stuttering sounds and ran screaming in some primal language for the door with our belly laughs following her right on her heels. My buddy high fived me a ridiculous number of times as he wiped his tears of giddiness from his cheek. He said that was the best thing that anyone had ever said to her. He then said I was lucky that she didn't own a gun.
All of this took place some 20 years ago and since that time I had but all given up the hope that we would ever cross paths again. I have always wanted another opportunity to have just one more intimate yet discrete meeting of the minds with her about this steamy topic. I felt that if I did if might somehow give me some closure on the disappointment of never being dominated by her like she relentlessly dominates me in my dreams of her. I kept trying to convince myself that she was not worthy of all the frustration that my unfulfilled fantasy of her were burdening me with. I rationalized that if I were to meet up with her some 20 years later that she surely would be a disappointment physically compared to what my twisted mind had built her up to be like over the years. I told myself she would surely be overweight given how lazy and unmotivated she always was in the past. I did however, think of her from time to time and when I did I usually fantasized how I might like her to extract her retribution upon me by enslaving me between her beautiful thighs and butt cheeks.
When ever I would allow myself the indiscretion of visualizing her revenge upon me it always left me with an extraordinary dark, reprehensible and degrading feeling that resonated and pulsed through my very essence. The overwhelming feelings of guilt and shame that I experienced while thinking of her doing so many unspeakable things to me always made the biggest of butterflies take off in flight deep inside my belly. And when this degenerated euphoric feeling swept over me it totally smothered over any attempt I may have made to convince myself that she isn’t, never was or ever will be anybody that is worthy of being at the pole position of my twisted self-release pedestal. But still, every time I found the need to get myself off, I always ended up releasing with images of her in my head doing very brutal things to me. And unknown to me, I was about to learn first hand why the expression 'Be careful what you wish for' is such a profound statement.
To be continued ....
The photo shown here was obtained off of my friends facebook page. It is a 20 something year old photo of his ex wife, BB. This is what she looked like when I knew her so long ago. I was lucky enough to find it in the short time that it was online. He posted it not long ago while in a drunken stupor but deleted it the very next day.