At number 12, the party was in full swing. It was a Saturday night, and the Lofts were holding a barbecue for their yuppie friends. Doug and Anne Loft had been circulating and were now talking to the Harts, their next door neighbors, whom they had invited out of courtesy. "Andrew was just telling us about that young girl down the road," Anne explained. "It seems that her boyfriend was cheating on her, and she beat him up in the garden." Doug looked disbelievingly at her. "How was that, then?" he asked. "Young Nicola," Jane responded. "She beat him about and sat on him until he gave in to her." "He must have allowed her to do it," Doug said. "No girl could beat a man in a fight otherwise." "Oh, I don't know. She's rather a tough young lady, quite an athlete," Andrew Hart said. "No, I still can't see it happening," Doug interrupted, "though I'm not saying that I don't believe what you saw. Just that the boyfriend must have allowed it to happen. Excuse me, won't you?" He got up to speak to some of the other guests, and the conversation was dropped and forgotten. Except by Anne Loft. Ann was a big brunette with a tremendous figure. By contrast, her husband was small and thin. Her parents had kidded her about the saying that she would obviously wear the trousers in the family. The more Anne thought about what Doug had said, the angrier she got. She didn't like the slur he had made against her own sex, and determined to teach him a lesson. He had some explaining to do anyway. Seeking out Jane Hart again for a little "girl talk," she asked the woman to tell her all she know. Jane was only too willing to tell her the whole story. She rarely had anyone to talk to, and here was someone who was not only a willing listener, but someone who wanted her to talk to her. It was Sunday morning in The Glades. Anne Loft had risen early and bathed and dressed in a pair of skin tight white slacks and blouse. She had decided that she would put her theory to the test today. She ran a bath for her husband, then called him to tell him it was ready. Still not fully awake, he rose anyway and headed for the bathroom. Now to put the next part of her plan into operation. Collecting all his trousers, shirts and underwear from their various cupboards and drawers, she took them all into the spare room where she put them into a couple of suitcases. Doug climbed from the bath and wrapped his robe around him. He went into the bedroom and started to dry himself. Anne walked in almost immediately. "Want me to do that for you?" she asked him. "That would be nice," he replied, rather puzzled. She hadn't done that for a long time. She took the robe from him and threw it onto a chair, then proceeded to wipe him with the towel. When she was satisfied that he was dry enough, she threw the towel on top of the bathrobe. Still puzzled, Doug walked over to the chest of drawers to fetch his underpants. He stood there, looking into the drawer. "Where are all my clothes?" he asked, somewhat annoyed. "Oh, they're safe enough, you can have them later." "But I want them now. Do you expect me to remain naked?" "Only for a while, darling. Do you remember what Andrew and Jane told us about the young girl down the road?" "What girl down the road? Look, where are my clothes?" "It's right, you know. The male sex is very arrogant. And you're really no exception." Doug was beginning to get irritated by the direction the conversation was taking. Besides, he wanted to get dressed. "Do you know if I found out that you'd been unfaithful to me, I think I'd beat you up too." "What are you talking about? I've never been unfaithful to you. And why do you keep referring to that fairy story?" I'm going to put that fairy story to the test. That's why I want you as you are, so that you can't walk out on me." Angrily he tried to push past his wife to reach the door, but he was stopped in his tracks when she hit him hard across the face. "I hope you're ready, darling, because I mean to go through with it to find out for myself." She really means it, he thought. She really thinks she can get the better of me. Well, we shall find out. "All right, if that's what you want, come and get it." If he expected her to grapple from the very start he was wrong, for instead she kneed him in the groin. "What did you do that for?" he cried, doubling up in pain, and failing to avoid the punch to the head that followed. He fell to the floor, his wife standing over him. "Come on, get up, or I'll jump on you now." He scowled up at her. "You really are asking for trouble now!" It was he that was in trouble, however, for as he made to rise, she got him in a headlock and threw him onto the bed. He dragged himself onto the center of the bed and lay there, nursing his aching parts, unaware that he was now where she wanted him. Jumping onto the bed, she leapt upon him. Her hands went to his throat as she straddled him. She had a strong grip, and he couldn't dislodge her hands. His throat was beginning to hurt, and he began to feel dizzy. When she released her grip he began to massage the area with his two hands, but she grabbed his wrists and forced his arms down above his head. "I think this has gone far enough, don't you?" he asked groggily. "I've only just started, my darling. I told you I'm going to beat you up." He tried to throw her but was unable to, and she made it more difficult for him by moving up and sitting on his chest. He tried to turn his head so as not to look at her, but her thighs closed in on him immediately, trapping his head. Under normal circumstances he loved being in such close proximity to his wife, but not like his. This was embarrassing. It was just as well no one could see him like this. She was squashing his head and face with her ample thighs, and his ears began to feel hot. But she kept him there captive. "If I admitted that I was beaten, would you stop here and now?" he asked her grudgingly. "No, darling, there's a long way to go yet," she answered simply. With this she moved forward, her crotch descending onto his face as he shuddered at the thought of what else could happen. He passed out soon afterwards and awoke to find that she was no longer on top of him. But he was still her captive, for she now had his head scissored between her thighs, and his fact was very close to her crotch. As she felt him move, she forced his head right down so that his face was pressed into her warm crotch yet again. He tried to prise her knees apart, but she took hold of his thumbs and bent them back. He screamed in agony. "It seems I've found your weak spot, doesn't it, darling?" she said sweetly. She pulled once more on his thumbs, and he screamed again. "Dear me, you'll have to be quieter. What will the neighbors think?" Releasing her scissors hold, she retained the hold on his thumbs. Then, kneeling, she pulled him to and fro by way of those painful digits. She realized what an advantage she had by merely keeping hold of his thumbs. She told him to lie on his back, and he did as he was bid, not wanting to be hurt anymore. Climbing astride him again, she resumed here former position on his chest, her thighs once again capturing his head and face. She held his arms to be bed and once again straddled his unwilling face, grinding down upon him, hurting his mouth and nose in the process. Once again he passed out. When he came to again, she was still astride his chest, her crotch pressed tightly against his chin. This time, however, she was naked also. She had pinned his arms again, still had control of his thumbs. But there was something else. He had been gagged. "If you're a good boy, I'll undo that for you!" "Mmmmm" he mumbled. Releasing one of his thumbs, she undid the gag. But there was still something in his mouth making it impossible for him to speak. She removed this obstruction also. It was a pair of panties. How disgusting, he thought, and shuddered. "I thought you'd like that little touch, seeing as how you've obviously been sniffing around them before. I found it quite amusing." He didn't quite grasp what she was saying, so she continued. "I found them in one of your pockets a while ago. I was wondering how to approach you about it, and fortunately the solution came quite easily." He looked at her with wide eyes as she said, "Anyway, there's something I want you to do for me before you go." Moving forward again, she straddled his face once more, moving around in a circular motion, squeezing her thighs in and out. For most of the afternoon she forced him to service her. Each of his attempts to escape was thwarted by his thumbs being bent back until he screamed for mercy. When she released him, she told him to leave, or she would inform the neighbors of what had happened. Unwilling to be looked upon as a complete fool, he packed his bags and did as he was told. But not before she had promised him a repeat of the treatment if he returned. And she knew that he would have to return before long, he had nowhere else to go! She didn't know it yet, but she would soon be handing out that same treatment to someone else apart from her husband!