As I walk into your room, dressed only in my silky pants, I see you three girls sitting together on the sofa and think you are just the sort of girls I always go for: young, pretty, skinny, vivacious, giggly and dressed a bit ‘tarty’ in plain-coloured shiny micro-miniskirts and tops - and each of you has your hair in two lovely plaits! When you smile at me I look at your face and feel my stomach lurch with that immediate emotional response: you look so deliciously pretty! I sit next to you and, as we talk, I gaze at your face and notice a movement out of the corner of my eye: I see that your shiny little black wet-look ciré micro-miniskirt has ridden up your thighs so that I can see your tanned, pencil-slim upper thighs and even that little bulge that you skinny girls have just at the top of the thighs, just below the panty line. I try not to stare but just can’t help my eyes riveting on your thighs, or licking my lips. You catch my eye and giggle so attractively that I feel myself blushing bright red. “Getting a good look then, are you?” asks one of your friends, and I feel a vicious frisson of gut-wrenching shame, especially when I feel a tingling feeling between my legs. Girls have such power over us poor males and, although I know that you are playing with me, I don’t care! You stand up and then bend down so that your loose, shiny black micro-miniskirt skirt rides up over your jutting bum and your tight, shiny, silky white panties are in my face. Then you deliberately turn to face me and lift your skirt up at the front, so far that I can see, framed between your delicious thighs and the edge of your skirt, a lovely vee of tight, shiny, white silk panty, and I notice an enticing little feminine crease in the middle. My jaw drops. “P- p-p-panty!” I stammer as I gaze at the icon of your femaleness and all three of you laugh, giggle and point at me while I tremble in my abject humiliation. I want to touch your white slender thighs and the silky triangle of panty so much that I can’t stop my body shaking. “I am so sorry!” I blurt out, but that just makes you laugh at me even more and I just sit there in misery at my male shame, holding back my lust to press my disgusting manhood against this vision of your female loveliness. I am a helpless victim of your beautiful, cruel femaleness manipulating my disgusting male urges. Girl Power! I ask you if I can hold your plaîts and you let me grasp them, caressing them with both hands in tactile glee.

“We are going to watch a video”, you announce, and one of the girls puts a DVD on the player under a huge TV screen. First we see a short film about a pretty young slender dominatrix dressed in a black leather miniskirt, showing off her tight black leather panties and wielding a whip. You see me looking at it intently and ask me if I like her. “No!” I say as convincingly as I can, but I know that you realise I am extremely attracted to her really. Another humiliation!

In the second feature, to my horror, I there is a big strong-looking man on his knees, naked, in the middle of the ring, his testicles tied tightly in a ladies’ stocking. A pretty young girl, also naked except for a pair of black leather boots, is flogging the man with a whip and he is sobbing and crying out in pain. As we watch, she flicks his balls with the whip and he screams in agony. Then she settles down to a rhythmic whipping of his naked arse and suddenly, to my amazement, his penis rears up harder than before, his hips thrust forwards and backwards, and huge gouts of his awful male shame spurt into a bowl placed under him, obviously put there to catch his humiliation. When he has finished the girl leads him from the ring by pulling the stocking. I am stunned, but also curiously and viciously aroused at the awful sight. From your knowing look, you know about the feelings of sexual arousal I am experiencing all right!

The main feature is called Gladiator Girl and I recognise immediately that Gladiator Girl is you! In the film you were dressed exactly as you are now, also with your hair in those enticing plaîts! I am so excited!

Your male opponent is a big strong, hairy, barrel-chested bull of a man and you look too small, weak, innocent and vulnerable to last more than a second against him. He watches you as you deliberately tease him by flaunting your shiny white silky panties, just as you have just done to me, and I feel my penis go hard again, pushing my pants out from my belly. I need you so much that I ache! And I want to cuddle you and feel your breasts on my chest and to kook into your pretty eyes and to kiss you -oh so gently - on the lips. I stroke your two plaîts in my hands. In the video, lots of young schoolgirls, and some boys too, are taking their seats to watch the fight.

As you and the big male circle each other with your swords at the ready we can see that the man can’t tear his eyes away from that little vee of silky white panty peeping out from under your tiny black skirt. Then we watch your little breasts, obviously unrestrained by a bra, wobbling seductively inside your tight black silk top. I feel my penis hard and my balls like heavy lead weights hanging in my pants. The big male announces in a big bass booming voice, “I am going to RAPE you little girl!” Everyone can see that the man is hung like a bull with his enormous testicles swinging in his silky briefs and his large penis pushing them outwards as if trying to reach you. Suddenly, as he leers up your skirt, you step forward: you parry his sword with yours, take another step forwards, bring your knee powering upwards to part his muscular thighs and, with a sickening meaty thud, drive into his unprotected testicles. You step back to watch the result. The big man just stands there looking stunned for a moment; totters; drops his sword with a clatter; bellows with rage and pain as he grasps his stricken manhood; falls to his knees looking puzzled as he gazes up your skirt in front of his face, at the panties that are his undoing; topples forwards onto his face and finally rolls over on his back still grasping his aching bollocks and rolling about in agony. “I hardly touched you!” you shout, laughing. You put your sword down and prise his hands apart, pulling his silky briefs down so that you can massage the weeping man’s testicles. Gradually as he thrashes about less and less, you tighten your gip, bringing him under your control. Eventually, when he stops writhing, you let go of his balls and straddle him, with your knees on his upper arms and your panties in his face, and say, “You wanted my panties and now you’ve got them: Kiss my knickers in submission!” He actually cries with the humiliation, big tears rolling down his cheeks, “I can’t, it is just too shameful!” he sobs. But as you push your panties into his face you reach backwards and re-take those huge bollocks, squeezing them until he howls in pain again. He has no choice really, and with a sob of shame, he kisses that wonderful white silky apparition of femaleness in front of his face, admitting his defeat and our male inferiority. Female defeats male in combat! The crowds of schoolgirls cheer you and jeer him, while the boys look crestfallen and shamefaced. You pull the man’s briefs off and hold them up in victory.

The humiliation is terrible: You stand, sword held high, with one foot on the man’s big hairy male chest in female victory, and he just lays there in his naked shame. Then you put down your sword again, take off your black silk top and, leaning down, flop your tits in his face as a sign of your contempt for his manhood. The girls go wild with enthusiasm for your female victory and some of them wave a placard saying, “MAKE HIM WANK!”

But you let the man get up to fight again: in unarmed combat this time. It soon becomes obvious, though, that the poor male is making a big mistake in fighting you naked. Now he is at an enormous disadvantage as he blunders about trying to come into contact with you, hindered by his heavy, swinging tackle. You literally dance around him making attacking lunges towards his crotch so that he has to defend his male weakness, bellowing with frustration. You pretend to lunge for the man’s bollocks, but instead step back and sweep his legs from under him, then you have him again, knees pinning his arms to the floor and panties in his face. You reach through the man’s thighs again and scoop up his balls into your pretty little hand, squeezing them until he shrieks with pain and fear, “No, please don’t hurt me any more, I submit!” Taking a stocking from one of the girls, you tie it first around the base of his scrotum, trapping both of his balls, secondly you tie between his balls so as to separate them, and then thirdly around the base again to push both balls tightly into the scrotum. He is completely helpless!

“How does it feel to see a big strong male defeated utterly by a silly weak, vulnerable little girly in armed combat?” you ask me. I watch the chanting, jeering young girls venting their contempt for the defeated male – and it seems for me too. I feel a crescendo of desire and humiliation building up inside of me. Oh the male shame! But it is not over yet:-

You stand up and shout, "Come!” The man obeys meekly, obviously not willing to endure such a shameful drubbing again but sobbing with the awful humiliation of defeat and submission. But he can’t help his questing manhood rising up and bobbing ridiculously, his heavy balls hanging, trussed up, between his legs. As he comes to you he falls to his knees, his enormous cock dangling down and his huge testicles swinging. We are all aware of the tempting target his balls present to you and are afraid of what you will do to them. As he goes to you like a dog, you let him kiss your panties again, running his tongue along the flesh all around the edges, then along the crease of silk-covered pussy. As he moans with delight, you giggle girlishly with the pleasure of it before pulling panty aside and ordering him to serve his conqueress. “Oh, beautiful p-p-pussy!” he cries out. You lower your delightful hairless pussy onto his face and he kisses all around her and your Mound of Venus and then, oh so gently, kisses the delightful little slot. Only when you order him to do so does he very, very delicately, probe his tongue into her, licking up and down. He sucks your labia alternately, bringing them in between his lips, licking with his tongue and then ‘pinging’ them out again. When you shout, “Now!” he inserts his tongue into your delicious groove and pushes it up to contact your clitoris, gently but firmly licking all around it before pushing it gently and ‘pinging’ it too. You moan loudly, using your hands on the back of his head to ram his face into your crotch. You order him onto his back so you can grind your pussy into his face: pushing, grinding and moaning as he licks and kisses. You start squealing like a little piglet, a delicate feminine little piglet, and then pull his head up violently between your thighs to fuck his face savagely: grinding his submissiveness with your superior vicious dominance, titties flying, until you are satisfied and he lies defeated and broken between your thighs with your pussy juice all over his face and hair. You rock gently on his face for a while longer, purring, your face soft, enjoying every minute. As you stand up he cries out, “Oh pussy, please, pussy!” but you pull your panties back on tightly. He stands up too, pressing his hungry cock on your belly so he can feel your shiny, silky, slick skirt pressing against his erection, feeling your skirt sliding over your shiny, silky panties beneath it and feeling your Mound of Venus pressing back against him. His trussed up balls are squashed directly up against your shiny silky panty and he must be able to feel your enticing pussy lips through the silkiness. To every man’s utter shame he begs his conquering woman for sex: a terrible admission of defeat and humiliation of a big strong man by a pretty little girly.

One can see it on the man’s face: he tries to control his own body but he fails. "Oh no, please, the humiliation!" The word ‘humiliation’ comes from him as a sob. “When you come, when you soil my skirt, I am going to CASTRATE you!” you announce to the audience, and the man looks utterly shocked. A girl hands you a knife and you use the stocking to pull his balls away from his body, hard against your panties, positioning the knife against his stretched scrotum and we wait for the ultimate demonstration of our male weakness and utter submission. He holds one of your plaîts in each hand and leans back so that he, and we, can see his hungry shaft pressing against your shiny black silky skirt and his bollocks bumping and rubbing and knocking up against your tight, shiny white panty crease, driving him insane with lust as his hips thrust back and forward in a parody of dominant male sex and he pants and moans loudly – deep, throaty masculine moans of both pleasure and frustration, tongue lolling out of one side of his mouth in needy anticipation. Every man watching knows exactly how he feels: it is as if a needle is piercing deeply into the flesh of his penis from side to side just below his come-hole as the monster strains for relief. "Paaaanteeees!" In his gut-wrenching fear he tries to resist his male hunger for female, his need for you, but he cannot. He breaks: he surrenders, capitulates to his pretty little girlie conqueror. He cries out, “Yes!” “CASTRATE me!” “UN-MAN me!” GELD me!” “NOW!” As his ejaculation explodes, his whole body thrusts and jerks like the male animal that he is, grunting loudly like pig as his surrendering man-juice rips through his tormented man-flesh to splatter your tits and shiny skirt-covered silky belly. One globule of his thick white male shame slides down your shiny black skirt and your tight, shiny white, silky panties to your crotch and another from your tits to your chest. As his eyes lock with yours we can see the acknowledgement of his emotional submission on your dear sweet face, but we can also see that you also demand his complete emotional, intellectual and physical submission - and realise that you know that he needs that too. "Finish me off, pretty little girlie, please!" he implores. "You men, you're like lambs to the slaughter" you say, and I realise then that you have done this before, my pretty, fragile, "innocent" little prick-teasing Gladiator Girl bitch has defeated and castrated many men, and the man’s humiliation was a foregone conclusion. The man gazes adoringly at your little girlie face, your shiny black skirt and your pretty, enticing, tight, shiny, silky white feminine panties as we see your gorgeous, innocent, sexy little smile when your eyes move to his doomed manhood. He holds tightly onto your plaîts, mouth wide open, tongue pushed out stiffly now in pleasure, watching your sweet face meekly as you grasp his testicles in your left hand. With a little cry of pure exhilaration, “YES!” you slice his bollocks clean off with the knife in your right, raising your arm to show his severed manhood, trophies of female victory and female power, to the baying crowd and the cameras. My mind is seething with burning shame and urgent sexual need as I see the maimed man-flesh in your hand. Now I understand the real meaning of male rape. The girls in the crowd go wild with excitement and organised chanting beaks out: "Female wins, female wins". "Off with them all!" are just two of them. The man hasn’t lost his erection yet and his whole body is still struggling urgently to ejaculate the bulk of his hot juices before it collapses. Dropping the knife, you fix him with your beautiful giggling little girlie look of complete dominance as you grasp his shaft, your little right hand gently but quickly massaging the rest of his submissive man-juice out if him. The last surge of the man’s primeval urges temporarily overwhelms his pain while he grasps your plaîts in ecstasy, looking into your eyes as joyful spasms burst through his body in waves from the base of his spine making his hips jerk forwards with spasmic ejaculation. Oh Joy! Amazingly, his awful, shameful, disgusting male slime continues to slide and gurgle out of him with an "Ahhh" for every gratifying spasm, sploshing all over you as we watch it running off in your belly and running down your legs in great gobs. You take some of the hot spunk in your hand, and long glistening strands still attach it to your panties as you take your hand away to rub it around your belly and tits with relish. Ripples of rapture and happiness pass through the big man’s delirious body as it jerks and relaxes, jerks and relaxes, surrendering his very last submissive tribute to his beautiful dominant, endearing little female conqueress.

The man’s erection subsides; his penis wilts and goes completely limp. Sublime relief! He is released from his disgusting male urges at last! One of the young girls has already injected morphine into his leg but he collapses in shock as the terrible pain from his crippled manhood re-asserts itself, and he lies on his back, looking up at your heart-breakingly beautiful face. One of the cameras is almost on top of him, and clustered around are dozens of pretty young schoolgirls, and each and every one of is staring intently at his face as she brings herself to a shuddering and noisy climax. The man drifts into unconsciousness, utterly satisfied and happy, knowing that when the film, Gladiator Girl, goes on release, then Girl Power will take over the whole world. Every man on earth will share his wonderful privilege: Every man will experience the delicious, intoxicating thrilling humiliation of a male defeated by a female in combat, the pleasure of serving the superior female with his loving tongue, submit his last shameful male-surrender juice to her in orgasmic joy, and sacrifice the very essence of his manhood to her female dominance.

You stand over the man, foot on his chest again’ legs wide apart, flaunting your shiny panties with their silky crease of femaleness, in the pose of female victory holding your sword high in one hand and your trophies, the very symbols of his maimed manhood, his severed testicles, above your head in the other: the final, ultimate female victory!

As the film ends you three girls stare at me intently, pointing at my penis as it pushes my pants away from my belly. “He wants it too!” says one of the girls.

“Oh yes: I want to be that man!” I cry out with passion, and I am almost sick with lust at the thought of you having that same look of contemptuous smug female superiority as you hold my severed bollocks up over your head and I splosh my disgusting male shame all over your shiny black skirt and tight, shiny, silky panties and the girls giggle and jeer and laugh at me. Our eyes meet, you smile, and we all know what is going to happen!

I have to explain that, unfortunately, I already have a hernia, so kneeing and kicking my balls would cause permanent damage - but everything else……..

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Martin Cooper November 2009