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Jane looked at the brochure for Dr Sally Seldon’s centre, and was convinced it was a good idea. Dr Seldon, psychologist and therapist, claimed to be able to cure male aggression. She offered a residential course of up to a week, during which men would have gym sessions, to channel the aggression into exercise, and therapy. Jane looked at the recommendations: “Great!” wrote a woman called Sue, “My husband used to get into fights regularly when he went out drinking. After a week’s therapy he’s entirely peace-loving.” “My husband is so docile now, he even cooks dinner (it’s just a shame he can’t cook.) Elaine, another, commented. All that remained was to persuade her husband, Joe, to go.
“But it’s what blokes do,” he complained. “We go out Friday nights, and it’s darts, pool or snooker. But sometimes there’s a bit of a row among ourselves or with the visiting team, and it needs to be sorted out.”
“But you’re not a teenager anymore,” insisted Jane. “I worry that you’ll come home badly hurt one night. Please try it … for me?”
So on a Monday morning, Joe found himself reluctantly ringing the bell of the door of a large building. A very attractive woman answered, and asked pleasantly, “Joe Tenant?”
“Please come in, Mr Tenant. Your room’s all ready, so if you’d just like to put your luggage in it, and be kind enough to come back to reception, we can start your first session. I’m Sally,” by the way,” she concluded, holding out her hand, which Joe shook formally.
“I think I’m going to like it here after all,” Joe thought as he made his way back, looking forward to his therapy sessions with the lovely-looking Sally. She smiled as he returned.
“Everything all right for you?” she asked.
“Yes, fine thanks. I’m ready when you are,” he added enthusiastically.
“Excellent. Your first session will be in the gym. I’ll take you there. Don’t worry about not having the right clothes, we’ve got shorts and things you can change into there.”
Sally showed him into the gym. Joe was unfamiliar with gyms, and he glanced apprehensively at the various devices for “working out”. In one corner there was a fine-looking woman working with weights. She was handsome rather than pretty, and had a statuesque figure, full breasts, narrow waist, and fairly broad hips. She looked ravishing in a white leotard. Joe gulped at the sight.
“Hi Sarah,” Sally called out, waving. Sarah turned and acknowledged them, then continued with her weights.
“I’m going to leave you in Sarah’s charge,” explained Sally, pulling a screen from the wall. There, you can change behind that. Sarah will bring you some shorts and a shirt over. She’ll pass them round the side to you.”
Standing behind the screen in his underpants, Joe felt rather ridiculous. He didn’t like the look of Sarah, either. Oh yes, she was really attractive. But she didn’t seem exactly pleased to see him, unlike Sally. Still, he mused, she wasn’t the one taking his money …
“What the –” Joe exclaimed, as the screen was yanked away from him and went crashing to the floor in a heap. Sarah kicked it out of the way impatiently.
“So you’re the drunken lout that gets into clumsy street brawls, are you?” she demanded.
“Right, first exercise, “I want you to put your hands on your head.”
“Why, and where are my gym clothes?”
“Just do it, you’ll see why, and then I’ll get your clothes.”
Joe shrugged, and did as she bade. In one lightning movement Sarah whipped his underpants off him and threw across the floor.
“What did you do that for?” demanded Joe.
“It’s part of the therapy. You’re to be humiliated,” Sarah gloated. “I’m going to beat you up with you all vulnerable, though I would like a bit of real competition for a change, from someone with some skill, and not just a street thumper. Now, put your fists up.”
“This is ridiculous,” Joe implored her. “I’m not going to fight you.”
“Suit yourself. It’s just training for me, and it’ll be easier to hurl you all over the gym if you don’t resist.”
“Look, pet, you’re not going to hurl me anywhere.”
“Come on, I’ve got another loser to beat up this afternoon, I haven’t got all day.”
“If you’re not careful, I’ll … agh, shit!”
Sarah swerved round him, jumped on his back, with her heel on his groin, and forced him to his knees. Giving him no time to recover, she seized his right arm, and hauled it behind him. Joe landed on his free hand, which served to prop him up. Sarah now placed her left knee on the back of his neck, worked her right leg to support her hold on his arm, and heaved.
Joe roared in pain. Sarah let go and he collapsed on his stomach. She then raised him back up and attacked him with her knee in the chest and face, before kicking him in the groin. Her speed and strength were fearsome. Joe was stunned and in severe pain. Another blow from her knee to his stomach made him double forward, and she brought him down into a sleeper hold. He was helpless, and she celebrated her first victory.
Up again, she kneed him in the groin.
“You boasted about skill,” he gasped, “Well a knee in the balls is hardly a skilled move.” He swung his fist at her but she easily dodged it.
“True, but this” – she punched him in the face while kneeing him in the groin at the same time – “requires agility and dexterity, wouldn’t you say?”
The combination brought Joe down again, and Sarah celebrated her second victory, while Joe lay on his front.
“I’ve got to do something, he thought, “she’ll literally kill me at this rate.”
While he was getting up he realised she was within range of a grab, so he attempted a bear hug. There was a confused grapple for some seconds while each one strove for an advantage. Sarah managed to break free, punched him in the stomach, and then launched a blistering kick to his face.
Forced down once again, Joe now had his right arm seized by Sarah, which she heaved, while agonisingly forcing his middle fingers further and further apart from each other. He yelled with the pain. It counted as a third victory.
Her fourth came after a flurry of punches knees and kicks, where Joe actually managed to score a rare hit with a kick. This infuriated Sarah, and he collapsed after a brutal knee to his face. This time she followed up her victory rather than letting him get up. She put him in a reverse head scissors and grasped his balls. He was terrified she would do him permanent damage.
However she relented, and got up. Joe then got up too, and surprisingly scored a second hit. Sarah retaliated with her armoury of kicks, knees and punches, as well as a full Nelson. By now his face was a mess. She had struck his chin, his mouth, his ear and his cheek, at least once. Now, showing off her obvious gymnastic skills, she launched a left kick from the floor, balancing on her left hand.
It brought him down once more, and this time she enjoyed herself by pinning him, before once again applying the reverse head scissors. She grabbed his balls for a second time, but moved back so that her sex was in Joe’s face. She then moved it up and down a little. He got the message and began licking. Her hold on his balls was tight enough to hurt a little, but not so tight that it wasn’t pleasurable for him at the same time. But now she transferred her hand to his cock; Joe’s brain responded by instantly making it erect. Again, she held it tightly enough for a little pain, but at the same time it was stimulating. When she moved at one moment, Joe could see her painted nails working up and down. He began to moan.
Instantly she leapt off him. “We can’t have that, you won’t be able to fight - not that you’re much good anyway.”
Shakily, Joe got to his feet, only to be met by her fist in his left eye. As he recoiled he could see with his good eye that she was smiling.
“Lovely. Bang on target,” she gloated. “There’s nothing so humiliating for a man than to be given a black eye by a woman!”
Joe’s problem was that he never had enough time to recover. A kick would be followed by a punch; a knee to the chest by a karate kick to the kidneys. Or she would force him into a submission hold, giving him no choice but to tap on the floor. Nor did she refrain from dirty fighting, and she considered his groin a fair target even when he was lying prone. On more than one occasion, she had him on his back while she drove her knee into his groin.
Then there was her ability to do two things at the same time, namely the knee to the groin with a punch to the face. Having wounded and alarmed him with this technique early on, she repeated it at intervals, scoring a direct hit on his nose, while her knee landed where he was most vulnerable.
“You’re not human,” Joe sobbed at her feet. “You’re a machine.”
“No, it’s just that I have a working knowledge of every form of unarmed combat, I keep myself fit, and I eat healthy food. Your fighting is limited to slugging matches after several pints of beer, you’re unfit, and you probably eat too much junk food. But you can give up now if you want. I think Sally would be satisfied with this morning’s work.”
“To hell with Sally … and you!” Joe shouted defiantly, forcing himself up and drying his eyes.
“Very well. Come on then.”
It was foolish male pride that drove him on. Even he knew he had no hope, and that the only result would be more pain and humiliation. Moreover he was tiring fast. Sarah had time to pick her target and punish it. Plus, he had so many injuries that every blow she landed intensified the pain he already felt in that area. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she now employed another combination move – a half-Nelson forced him to slouch forward so she was able to bring her knee into the side of his face.
Joe had a lucky moment when he managed to strike her chin with the base of his hand. But while he was still completing the move, she responded with a firm straight punch to his jaw. That was another thing: she could punch better than any man he’d ever been up against. She could see a punch of his coming, avoid it, and deliver a counter-punch while he was still thinking about the move. Thus his fist sailed harmlessly into the air beside Sara’s face, while hers landed devastatingly on his chin. She also struck him with a glorious, text book, uppercut.
But it was Sarah’s karate kicks that finished him off. She attacked his face, back and groin; he fell and landed on his front. He struggled to support himself on his hands for a few moments, and then collapsed, unconscious.
Joe woke up in his bed a few hours later. It was about 2 in the afternoon. He had no idea how he got there. He went to get out of bed, but every movement hurt. Eventually he managed to sit on the bed. He was now wearing gym shorts, and his clothes were hanging up. He put his aching head in his hands. He had a vile taste in his mouth too. He limped to the bathroom and gingerly cleaned his teeth. On top of everything else, he couldn’t see very well. One eye was useless, and the other one not much better. He found the mirror and discovered the reason. The eye that was useless was closed over; the other one badly discoloured and bruised. The rest of his face was a mess of black, grey, red and purple.
A soft knocking at the door stopped him feeling sorry for himself. It was Sally.
“Hiya, how are you feeling?”
“Oh dear! You are a bit of a wounded soldier, I must say.”
“How did I get here?”
“Sorry? I can’t hear you very well. I think it’s because your mouth is so swollen.”
“Sarah carried you.”
“I might have known.”
Sally laughed. “I came to see if you wanted any lunch.”
“No. Very thirsty though.”
Sally filled a glass of water, which he struggled to drink. So she went and got a straw.
“You probably won’t want to do much for the rest of today,” she suggested.
“I don’t feel like going for a run, no.”
Sally laughed. “Oh dear,” she said again, “Sarah did beat you up, didn’t she?”
“Don’t keep on about it.”
“Ah, but I intend to. It’s part of the therapy. It’s male pride which usually makes men fight. There’s no better way of destroying that pride than for a man to be defeated by a woman. It was one of the best fights I’ve seen for a long time, too.”
“Wha’ you mean?”
“I’ve watched the video footage of it.”
“Oh yes, and we’ve made stills of the video as well, 1,600 of them. We’ve found out a bit about you from your Facebook profile, where you work, who your friends are, and that sort of thing. We’ve even become “friends” with some of them. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing for you if any of those stills got sent to your friends, colleagues, or even your boss! So just in case your wife tells us you’ve strayed back to your old ways …”
“Hmm. It works though.”
It was like being in hospital. Joe recovered slowly, but every movement still hurt. On his last morning, Friday, before Jane was due to come and take him home at lunchtime, Sally arrived to give him a medical examination. (She had basic medical training with her qualifications in therapy and psychology.) He lay on the bed in his shorts while she started at his face.
“Hmm, it’s still a bit discoloured, but there are no serious injuries. Your right eye’s fine now, but your left one’s still black.”
“What do I tell Jane?”
“I’ll come to that. Now, can you move your arms for me, please?” Joe did, and winced with pain. “Yes, it’s from where Sarah heaved you about. But there’s nothing broken.”
“Now, your ribs …”
“Umm, probably cracked and bruised. They can’t do anything for damaged ribs, you just have to wait for them to heal. I’m afraid it will take several weeks before they’re better. Try not to cough. I suggest you tell your wife that you caught your foot in the pedal of the exercise bike while you were getting off it, the handle bar hit you in the ribs, and you landed face first on the hard floor.”
“That’s a socking great lie!”
“All right, tell her you got beaten up by one of the ladies who works here. It’s all the same to me. Now, your stomach … still a bit tender is it?”
Her hand went lower. “I’m going to have to take these shorts off for a moment. You did after all take some punishment down there, didn’t you?”
Joe gritted his teeth, looked out of the window, and tried to think of the most boring things in life.
“Does it hurt if I cup these?”
“No,” he uttered in falsetto.
“Now, how about when I hold this?”
“Sorry, it’s so embarrassing. I seem to have a – you know.”
“That’s quite all right, it’s a man’s natural reaction to such stimulation. Sarah’s nice, isn’t she?”
“Eh? Er … no.”
Sally laughed, now steadily and firmly moving her hand up and down. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t think so. But she’s shown me several moves and given me a lot of tips. I had an argument with my husband recently, and I ended up using them on him. I had my foot on his back, forcing him forward while wrenching his arm back. I made him tap out! It was great! He got up and started moaning about how it wasn’t fair, and that he hadn’t been ready,” - Sally increased the pace of her hand – “he whinged that if it was a normal street fight I wouldn’t stand a chance. He was so full of grievance he didn’t notice me draw my fist back. I had all the time I needed. I punched him full and hard in the face, and he went down like a skittle!”
“Aggghhhh God!” Joe writhed; spasms wracked his body.
“Oops!” Sally giggled. I’d better get some tissues and clean you up. You’ve got time for a shower before your wife gets here. By the way, that was the last part of your therapy.”