Melissa (Part 1)

Melissa (Part 1)

Melissa is a 40-year-old single mom raising her beautiful daughter,  Kendra, who is turning 13 in a two days.

She adopted Kendra when she was 4 years old.

Melissa is very protective of her daughter.  Melissa was raped and the man was never caught.

She still wakes up screaming, waking up from vivid dreams of the night she was abused and tortured.

She was only 13 years old. She was walking home from her friend’s house. She lived only two homes down the street.

She noticed a car parked a few hundred feet from her home. In the car was a man who appeared to be looking intently on a paper map.

As she walked by the parked vehicle, the man smiled at her.

“Hello! Do you know where Maple street is?” the man asked.

She was a little frightened. She thought about her parents warnings about talking to strangers.

However, she saw the man was quite handsome with a friendly goateed face. At that age, she had started getting attracted to the opposite sex.

“Maple is 3 blocks that way, mister,” she replied.

He then smiled and got out of his car. “Can you please show me on this map where it is,” he said.

The man was tall. He was taller than her dad who is about 6 feet. He was wearing a plaid shirt tucked in blue jeans. She noticed how muscular he was. He had a thick chest. His arms were burly and were barely held by his tight sleeves. He had dark blue Levi’s. She caught herself staring at his crotch where there was just a slight amount of faded fabric outlining what appeared to her as the largest penis she has seen. His jeans were tight enough she could see the outline of two plum-like orbs just below his penis.

He propped the unfolded map on the side his car. He crouched down to her  4’8” height and pointed a flashlight on the colored map.

She scanned the map in earnest, barely able to read the tiny letters. She leaned closer with her nose almost touching the paper.

She was able to let out a muffled scream as a huge palm enveloped half her face. She felt herself lifted  off the ground by an arm grabbing her waist. Her attempts to struggle were futile. She was barely 90 pounds. And the man weighed a ton.

Her mouth and nose was completely smothered by his hand. She couldn’t breathe and shortly passed out.

Melissa remembers waking up in the middle of a bed with her arms and legs tied spread-eagled. She was blindfolded. She could see some underneath her blindfold. She was in a dimly lit room. She thought it may have been someone’s basement. A fluorescent lamp hummed overhead.

She turned her head slightly this way and that, scanning as much of the room as she can. She heard heavy steps approaching. She quickly stayed still and pretended to be asleep.

She felt big hands removing her blindfold. It took her a minute to focus.

It was her abductor. And he was completely naked.

He was a giant. He had a barrel chest covered with a thin carpet of dark hair. His arms were huge and appear knotted with muscles. On his right deltoid “Punisher” was tattooed. His belly had a vertical line of fur connecting his umbilicus further down with a thick thatch of curly pubic hair.

She was frightened by what she saw next.

She has seen boy’s parts before. One time, she even saw her father’s cock. He was asleep on the couch. He had his legs wide open.  As she hunched down to pick up a trinket that fell between  his legs, she saw his limp penis and balls hanging out of his loose boxer shorts. His organ was about 4 inches and looked like a soft pink tube with a loose skin containing what appeared to be small chicken eggs. She was amazed on how lovely she thought her father’s looked.

This was different.  It was a club. Or a tree branch jutting out of a dense forest of dark hair. It looked like it was a foot long. It had a large mushroom head, bobbing up and down, purple and angry. It had a slit on the tip with clear fluid forming drool that appeared too sticky to drip. The shaft had thick veins and appeared to pulsate. It was as thick as her forearm. It appeared to lead his body towards where she lay.

Under his penis she saw two globes in a hairy sack. They appeared to slightly bounce with his every step.

He reached over touched her between her legs. She let out a small shriek as he forced his fingers in her.

“Well…lookee here, I guess you’re not a little girl after all,” he stated. 

He held his index and middle fingers up close to her face. She saw blood.

He then layed on top of her and raped her.

She was found the next day in front of a scrap yard. She had severe bleeding and was rushed to the nearby hospital. Her uterus was ruptured. She became septic from endometritis. She nearly died if not for a life-saving hysterectomy.

She never really recovered from that night. Her parents sent her to different therapists, but none could truly get rid of her anger.

Her grandfather thought it would be smart to enroll her in martial arts. It would apparently provide an outlet for her anger and skills for self-defense.

So she did. She first learned judo. She learned to grapple and throw men twice her size.  She was motivated enough to win most contests, even beating men to submission.

She was a natural fighter. Her judo instructor thought she would be talented enough to learn mixed martial arts.  She was 16 when she won her division and weight class.

The years passed and wounds seemed slow to heal. Her parents divorced as her mom fell in deep depression and her father drowned himself in alcohol.

She stayed with her father after the divorce.  He was a construction worker and struggled to keep his daughter’s life normal.

Everyone in the gym was impressed by her skills. Her friends and family were convinced she had moved on and recovered.

This was far from the truth. She became increasingly bitter while showing up a front of calm and well adjustment. Her thoughts were constantly filled with menacing penises puncturing her uterus, blood, and death.

She plotted and prepared.  The day she was discharged from the hospital, she vowed for vengeance.  She hated feeling helpless. She hated feeling fear. She hated feeling weak.

And it was men who made her feel weak…men and their weapons…their clubs.

Men need to be disarmed. Men need to be crushed.

She read books and online materials. She wanted to learn her enemies’ strengths and weaknesses.

She went to her local library and checked out a human anatomy book. She studied the human male’s form intently. She soon learned detailed names of different men’s parts, especially of their genitalia.

She occasionally broke an evil smile whenever she learned new words. It’s as if she started having power over the enemy by knowing its parts and names.

“Punisher” had a large mushroom head…the glans. The club…shaft. The globes…testicles. The sack…scrotum.

She learned the inner workings of the organ. She learned of its rich supply of nerve endings and blood vessels.

She wanted to study a live male. It was more strategic planning for her. She wanted to see the enemy up close. She had no sexual desire or motivation. It’s all about her preparation for war.

Unfortunately, all the boys her age in her town avoided her. Everyone knew what had happened. It was like she was diseased.

But this did not deter her. She had a plan.

It was around Friday midnight, she remembers, her father, Paul, stumbling home from one of his drinking sessions. He occasionally blacks out after his second bottle of gin. He would usually wake up in the morning after these nights of stupor complaining of a headache and without recollection of events that transpired the night before. His breakfast always came with two tablets of Tylenol and coffee.

She was in bed when she heard him enter their home.  She quietly got out of her bed and cracked her door open.

She saw her father walk by her room. He was clutching the walls, trying his hardest not to fall. Finally, he reached his bedroom and slightly closed the door keeping it ajar. She crept behind him slowly. She had a plan. And she intended to stick to it.

Her father turned on a bedroom lamp. A sliver of light penetrated the dark hallway. She stood just in the shadows and peeked through the door.

Paul went to the bathroom. She heard the unbuckling of a belt. The sound of piss followed by a flush emanated from inside.

He walked back into the bedroom, now half naked. He was only in his boxer shorts. He sat on the bed and looked over at the dresser.

She had a plan…

Paul saw a glass of water and a small plastic bottle of Tylenol. She must have left this out for him.

He uncapped the small bottle and took a swig from as if the contents were liquid. He swallowed about three maybe five pills and washed this down with a big gulp of water.

He then lied down on the bed. His arms were folded on his chest. His legs were interlocked on the ankles. He then reached up and switched off the lamp.

She felt her whole body tingle when she heard him snore. Moonlight filtered through the bedroom window allowing her to see his father’s figure on the bed.

“Dad?” She whispered. No response except for a soft snore.

“Dad!” She yelled. Still no response.

She then pinched one of his big toes. It was painful enough that she dimly saw her father kick his leg up momentarily but still did not wake up.

This emboldened her. She turned on a torchiere sitting in a corner of the room. She adjusted the brightness setting enough for her to accomplish her goals.

She stood at the foot of his bed.

He was still sleeping, occasionally emitting a soft snore.

Paul was too drunk to notice the usual white Tylenol tablets were replaced with mixed capsules of Benadryl and Ambien.

To Melissa, this person wasn’t her father. To her, this was a specimen. What she saw was an opportunity to learn more about the enemy.

He must have changed his position when she pinched his toe.

His legs are now slightly spread apart. His arms were now unfolded to his sides.

She then walked and knelt one side of the bed to start her examination. She studied his form from head to toe.

He was 42 years old then. 6 feet tall, he had light brown hair that was kept neatly trimmed. He had a pleasant face, beautiful eyes under thick bushy eyebrows, and an aquiline nose suggesting his heritage. He had a square jaw and what Melissa thought was an amusingly large Adam’s apple. He had broad shoulders and muscled arms. He had large calloused hands from years of manual labor. His chest was muscular. His abdomen was flat with a trail of hair starting just below his belly button extending down into his underwear.

She skipped his center and stared at his legs. His thighs were thick and hairy. He had muscular calves. His feet were size 12.

After about 5 minutes of gazing at his form, she decided to now focus on his source of power.

He was wearing light blue boxer shorts with a slit in the front. She could see a dark patch of pubic hair and what appeared to be part of his shaft peeking through the front.

She then reached under his bed. Underneath, she grabbed a small bag containing what she felt where necessary tools to learn about the enemy.

She fished for a small halogen penlight. To be certain, she slowly pried his eyelids open and shone light in his eyes. His pupils were pinpoint. He mumbled, but didn’t wake up.

She replaced the flashlight in the bag. She then pulled out a pair of  surgical gloves and expertly put them on.

Her father  was softly snoring.

She slowly used her right thumb and forefinger to fish out her father’s penis. She grabbed it midshaft and softly squeezed it once. She then let go to check for any reaction from her father.

He was deeply drugged. She felt reassured that she found a cooperative subject.

She was surprised how soft and spongy it felt. It puzzled her. She knows about erections but could not get it around her head how something so soft can become as hard as a club.

She moved her two fingers up the shaft carefully looking for the tip. His penis still lay mostly hidden in his shorts.

Once she found the tip, she then held this with her thumb and two fingers and pulled his penis out of the front slit of his shorts.

She pulled on the head of his circumcised penis and stretched it out vertically at 90 degrees to his body. His penis felt like a spongy, stretchy tube. It stretched much further that she imagined.

Her father emitted a soft grunt and a cough. This startled her. She let go of his penis. It appeared to snap back slightly to its initial length as it collapsed on his lower belly.

She held her breath for what felt like forever. Her hands started to tremor.

Her father shifted his hip slightly to the left. His penis rolled and was now resting on his left upper thigh. Then he started snoring again.

She exhaled and calmed her nerves. She needed to control her fear.

After a few minutes of deep breathing, her shaking stopped. Her head suddenly became clear. This was her mission. And she has committed to learn more regardless of consequence.

She grabbed her father’s penis by the glans with her left thumb and forefinger. Again, she pulled on it upwards, stretching it out as much as she can.

She then fished out a 12-inch ruler from her bag.  She measured seven and a half inches in length.

She replaced the ruler in the bag, still holding onto her father’s penis with her left hand.

She then switched her grip, grabbing his penis just under the glans with her thumb and two fingers completely wrapping around the head. She started pulling his penis towards different directions, keeping it fully stretched at all times.

In her head, it felt like a joystick…something that she may use to control men, perhaps. She tugged on his penis like she was stirring a pot with a ladle.

She did this several times, going clockwise, then reverse. What happened next both surprised and amazed her. Her father’s penis started to enlarge and elongate. The head expanded forcing her grip to widen around it. The shaft also thickened under her grip. She found it difficult to twist her father's penis at that point because it has become rigid.

She held his penis perpendicular to his body, her left palm holding it up from the base. She studied it intently. She grabbed her ruler and measured it almost 8 inches long. The head was lightly purple with a dark slit. She felt her father's penis pulsate under her grip. She gave it a firm squeeze. She heard a soft moan from her sleeping father.

She squeezed again, more moaning came from her father. She repeated this several times. And after each time she did, she noticed her father's penis to get harder and denser. A droplet of clear goo appeared at the penis' tip.

Then she was shocked by what she saw. She saw the club again, the tree branch. She let go of her grip, releasing her father's penis. It slapped violently onto his belly making a soft thunk. The noise reminded her of her true mission.

She saw her father's penis for what it truly was. It was ugly and angry and dangerous. It was a weapon that men used to hurt women. Every man has the weapon. And she meant to disarm all of them.

Her father grunted slightly. He was still sleeping but this time, his right hand reached down, grabbing his penis, did a few jerking motions, then let go of it.

Even in sleep, men only think of their penises, she thought.

His penis was still fully erect. It bobbed slightly with every heartbeat.

She wanted to study this further.

She then pushed her left hand through the front opening of his shorts and grabbed her father's testicles. They were hefty. She could barely grab on both with one hand. She gathered his balls with her left hand and pulled them out through the front opening of his shorts.

His testicles were large. They looked like eggs. The scrotum felt like soft leather. She grabbed each testicle with both hands. She started moving the contents of each sack between her finger tips. The balls felt firm yet pliable.

Throughout her short years of martial arts training, she has always be told that men can be rendered quickly ineffective by a blow to his genitals.

Because martial arts had rules, she has never had the chance to test this out.

She let go of her father's balls. She then stared at her father's body again. Here is this man, with his powerful body, all controlled by his one weakness.

She fixed her eyes on her father's genitals. His penis was still erect. The testicles hung loosely below it.

Punisher, she thought.

Anger flooded her thoughts.

She got up from her knees and walked at the foot of the bed. Her father continued to snore quietly. His flat belly rising with every breath as his penis twitched every few seconds.

He looked powerful with his club and balls, dangling out of his shorts.

She then grabbed her father by his ankles and proceeded to spread his legs apart.