Amazon/douganne
                                          Doug and Anne
                          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.

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  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!
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