4 comments/ 23655 views/ 14 favorites Breaking Jen (Redux) By: Dimachaerus Author's Note: Breaking Jen was a story that I posted a year or two ago under another name. I always wanted to go back to it and perhaps fix a few details, however that minor fix turned into a massive re-write. I didn't want to replace that first story because it was liked by so many people...so...I decided to submit this 'redux' version under my new author name. Hopefully that way everyone will be happy. Why the re-write? Well....this newer version doesn't really stray all that much from the actual events. I think that when I wrote the original story I embellished quite a few details. I guess I just didn't think that the real experience was interesting enough....I realise now how insane that thinking was. When I recall what actually happened I know that it was far from ordinary. Almost too much of it is autobiographical. The things that happened to me and the things that I did are real. I was worried that everyone who reads it would know too much about me. Some of you will have read other stories of mine like 'At The mercy Of a Stranger' or 'A Night In Valhalla'. Many of you will recognise one or two elements or ideas from those stories. My answer to that is that I used my experiences from this night and others and blended them into those submissions. The events in 'At The Mercy Of A Stranger' happened. The events in this story, 'Breaking Jen Redux.' also happened. Writing down what Jen's (not her real name but it's very close) infidelities did to me was also all too real. I don't mind telling you that it was not pleasant to go back to that place. Those are not memories that I want to rekindle at all. They represent the worst time in my life and the most pain I have ever felt. Anyway....now you know, and with that knowledge, I hope you enjoy this 'redux' version of 'Breaking Jen'. Peace and Love.... William. (Aka Dimachaerus) ***** I want people to know that I'm not a spiteful person by nature and I don't believe in holding onto past hurt. I remember hearing a certain quote once that seemed to resonate with me. I honestly don't recall who said it, or even where I heard it anymore, but despite all that, I can still recount it word for word. 'Holding a grudge is like swallowing poison and expecting the other person to die'. That sentiment seemed to connect with me on the deepest of levels. I tried every day to live by its message. But to tell the truth, I was an utter failure in achieving that aim. As hard as I tried, I wasn't capable of in living a grudge-free life. There was always one exception, and one person, that I just couldn't shake. Jen. Jen was supposed to be the girl I was going to marry one day. She was always the one......the missing part of me. I was incomplete without her. Have you ever been in love with someone so deeply that you would literally step in front of a bus for them? I'm not speaking metaphorically here. I mean you would actually trade your life for theirs if it ever came down to it. I would have given my life to save hers in a heart-beat. It was that kind of love. Perhaps I should have been more careful about whom I gave my heart to, but I think that love tends to trump good judgement. That's been the story of my life. Deep down we all know how a love like that always ends. The truly ironic part of it all is that knowing this still makes no difference at all. You never see the end coming until it's much too late. We do it to ourselves over and over again, each time thinking 'this time will be different'. But it never is. The world I thought I knew, ended for me in a single day. Sometimes there are clues and warnings, but sometimes you just get blind-sided by life. Perhaps if I paint you a nice little metaphorical picture of what happened you will better understand. To lay it all down in plain language would almost seem crass to me. (In much the same way that describing a fatal auto crash would.) Imagine you are standing beside a deserted highway. It's surrounded by nothing but barren and lifeless country-side. Quite suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you spot a beautiful wild flower growing out of the dirt on the other side of that lonely road. It distracts you, and you think to yourself 'how could something so beautiful be living in this desolate place?' You look right and left and see nothing but empty highway before crossing the road to get a closer look. You never saw the huge truck that appeared out of nowhere until it hit you. You were so focussed on that flower that you couldn't see the danger until it was far too late. To say it broke my heart when the truth about Jen finally came out doesn't convey the feeling. Words can't express what I felt. That's the dilemma I have in writing this. I'm trying to use words to describe to you something that words cannot express. No. Saying it simply broke my heart doesn't come close. It would be more accurate to say that it destroyed me. When I look back on that twenty-four hour period now, I realise what was happening to me. It took the separation of time for me to fully understand it. Within the space of a day my happy, perfect world had collapsed around me. It was like living through a horror movie that I couldn't switch off. I can only think back on that time just so far before my mind disconnects. I can recall the events just fine but as soon as I start to remember how it all felt, then everything seems to shut down. I know it's my mind's way of preventing me from feeling that pain ever again. I was a strong confident and happy person, but before that day was out, I would be in the middle of a very real and very painful nervous breakdown. A lot of you may think that isn't possible, but many of you reading this will know that all it takes is the right combination of events to change a life instantly and forever. By now maybe you're realising that this is no simple story or work of fiction. While much of what you're about to read is fabrication there is a very high percentage that is drawn from pure fact. Do not doubt that the pain was real. I will blur the lines of reality in some areas, but I think we all do that in our own way. Our own emotions often colour our memories making the truth subjective to our own experience. I have no delusions about myself. I know what I am. I know that I am damaged. I know that my past has made me almost unable to trust or to connect with someone on a truly personal level. That inability caused me to seek other ways to deal with people. It actually saddens me that these new ways turned out to be infinitely more effective. The kindest of acts are not appreciated fully without first showing cruelty. I wish that were not true, but knowing that was a kind of revelation. It made me into the kind of man I never wanted to be, but also able to function as I do now. It is okay if you wish to stop reading now. Many of you were probably expecting a light erotic adventure and not a dose of reality. The events I describe hereafter will be gratifying on the most sensual and erotic levels, but, it may require a journey into darkness that may not sit well with you. It may unsettle. It may stay with you longer than you would like. So knowing that, I offer you your first escape. I will offer it again one more time at another key juncture. I assume if you continue now, and at that moment, then you will be prepared for what comes after. So....welcome to the journey, by sharing it with me you honour me with your trust. In return I will shelter you from the worst of it, I will protect you like you were my own. I remember feeling physically sick when I first discovered the truth about Jen. The realisation that I wasn't the only man in her life, there were many. Knowing, that what I had cherished the most in life, had been.........a lie. Knowing then that I was truly worthless. Jen had worked for a law firm but she was not a lawyer. She planned events. She organised the conferences and travelled to all the cities where they were held. She was good at it. A true multi-tasker in every sense of the word. She was skilled at manipulating people and situations to her own benefit. I knew that from the outset, but in my stupidity I had assumed that I was somehow special, that her manipulations did not extend to me. I believed in my heart that she loved me. A natural flirt who used the attention she got to her own ends. Maybe it was my own stupid male pride that was my undoing. Like having a tiger on a leash, you start to think it's tame until the day it bites you. I had been made a fool of for years. While attending conferences in other cities she had regularly taken her flirtations to the next level. I don't even know how many times that must have happened or how many other guys she had fucked over the two years we were together. I do know that some of them were men she would see regularly when she was in certain cities, and some of them even knew about me. She had a great thing going. A stunning and gifted liar. I really do have to give her that. I totally was oblivious to it all, and when the truth finally came, it did not arrive in small easily digestible portions, but all at once. That very morning I had actually been wrestling with a dilemma that now seems laughable. I had been considering the best way to propose to Jen. It all just seems so tragically pathetic. I was definitely the marrying kind before all this, but not now. I will never marry. It is a resolution and a gift to myself that I will always uphold. Maybe some of you will understand now. You don't bounce back from something like that. It changes you. It changed me.....forever. It was as if that experience broke me and then re-made me on an almost daily basis. You go through stages that repeat and recycle over and over again. Each time is just a little less painful than the last. Sometimes you go through those stages many times in one day. You get to experience every negative emotion. Humiliation turns to anger. Shame to depression. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. The down-ward spiral. To say that I did not seriously contemplate suicide would be a lie. I thought about her for years with that mixture of heartbreak, anger and sadness. In time, a profoundly different man emerged on the other side of the hurt. A calculating man devoid of all empathy. A predator who pursued and used women in ways that were radically different to anything he had ever done before. There was no alluring mystery to me in the females that I sought out. I saw through the outer image that each projected and instead found the woman underneath the facade. The rose coloured glasses of infatuation had gone. They were replaced instead by the eyes of a colder man who fed on dominance and control. A dispassionate observer who could analyse the women around him and then act accordingly without feeling or hesitation. I fed off of them (figuratively speaking of course), and in turn I gave them back the kind of experience no other man had dared to. I made their darkest fantasies real. Provided you are not deceptive and make your intentions clear from the outset, the majority of women you meet will practically melt at the prospect of being marginalised and used for the pleasure a young, athletic male. The very notion of this seems to fulfil something base and primal inside. This does not however imply disrespect. Permission and compliance is a given, but it takes a certain kind of man to push her past her perceived boundaries into places unimagined. That is where the magic happens. For the ladies who are reading this let me paint you a picture of where it all began. My first fumblings if you will. (and for the men, just pay attention.) Imagine you're sitting at a bar, any bar. That dark and handsome stranger sitting next to you is talking to you attentively and buying you drinks. He's amusing and funny. You're entertaining the idea of taking it further, but deep down you know you probably won't. He finally leans in close and whispers....."I really do have to confess. From the moment I sat down I've been picturing what you'd look like bent over the hood of my car." Responses to a statement like this will vary, but may go something like...."Oh really, now why would I want to do that?"...to which I might reply "because it's the perfect height." Eye contact and the hint of a faint smile are key at this point. Pause. Think. (yes, im talking directly to you.) Now think again. So ladies....try and tell me you didn't just imagine yourself bent forward over the hood of a sports car while a dark and handsome stranger fucked you. And do you honestly think that a guy like that would stop there? Hell before the night is out you can guarantee you will have broken several laws (the dirty ones), and enjoyed every second. Of course I could be wrong about you and that's fine. Its a percentages game, but I can safely predict that over seventy percent of you just had a hot flash and naughty little fantasy to go with it. (and that's just the ladies). And yes what I just described is the vanilla version. The complete version doesn't translate to the written word at all well. I'm sure you can understand why. There is undoubtedly something alluring about total honesty, especially when it's regarding sex. You'd be surprised at how often the most base and depraved requests will result in her saying yes. I know that women are just as sick of all the games as we men are. I got so very good at drawing out all of their dark tendencies. Most of them were just screaming out to be used and I simply obliged. There are many of you who will accuse me of being a woman hater after what you have just read. I wish it were that simple. If that were true then I wouldn't be very good at what I do now would I? I don't expect you to fully understand what I'm about to tell you because I don't understand it myself, but the more detached I became, the more I was fascinated by what I saw. The discovery that women have a power they aren't even aware of. Tragically fickle creatures too hung up on their own self image to know what it is they really have. Conflicting emotions and petty insecurities robbing them of their ability to appreciate their own gifts. Knowing that truth led me to an important question. What would you find underneath it all when you strip away all those barriers? How would that same woman behave when set free from her insecurities. She could do anything. She could be anything. Only a fearless and uncompromising man could bring about that end. A man with nothing left to lose. Someone who could stay the distance and trust the process. Next came the most important question of all.......'What was the most efficient way to achieve this end?' That was my most important discovery. Knowing that changed everything. In my inability to feel, I had found a way to live vicariously through my conquests. I found a way to fill the void. A seducer of the vulnerable. A devourer of energy. I found that, in time, I had developed a gift. I knew almost instinctively what a certain kind of woman wanted but was ashamed to admit. The desires that she could not understand let alone ask for. All those tired (but highly successful) pick-up lines were quickly replaced by words that were far more covert, and infinitely more suggestive. I understood then, that each encounter was a journey that had to start slowly. With each hour there would be an escalation and if by the third hour she was still in my company then she was mine for the taking. Every inch of her body and mind exploited before the night was out. Total, pleasure. Total freedom. A night where nothing was forbidden. There really is very little mystery to obtaining this gift. For me it was as simple as discovering how not to feel. To observe without letting my own emotions cloud any judgement. Once you stop caring about yourself it is easy to become fearless. I know there is irony that, in having a power that only a broken man could attain. The audacity that having nothing left to lose will give you. Empowered with that knowledge I embarked upon what could only be called a 'campaign' of conquest and domination. Debasement and depravity on an impressive scale. I took what appeared to be the sweetest looking girls and then proceeded to thoroughly 'dirty them up'. I soon discovered that the public persona that each of them presented to the world usually bore no resemblance to the desperate and repressed person that hid just under the surface. The filthiest acts always resulted in the most intense climaxes regardless of who they were and what church (if any) they happened to worship at. Humans are complex creatures. For every noble thought there is also a corresponding base desire. We go through life trying to show all those noble and good tendencies to the world whilst trying to hide away all those dirty and base ones. But those dirty and base thoughts never really go away. A desire suppressed is a desire magnified. The darker side of female desire became the tools of my trade and let me tell you girls and boys, trade was brisk. I did all the things that other men were afraid to do and I did them immediately and without reservation. Total honesty was the key. I would make it clear during the very first conversation that I was different. I didn't play nice and I didn't play fair. Nothing was off limits to me. I would use all of her dirty little secrets against her and make her do things that would make her own mother ashamed of her. Do you know how many girls walked away upon hearing that? Not one. Oh I'm not saying that I converted them all straight away, but all of them would at least entertain the idea. Often it was more about planting the seed of a thought. Over the days that followed that seed would begin to germinate. Next would come a text message or a call from her a few days later. It was usually at that stage that she would be ripe for the picking. As a percentile, the conversion rate was unusually high. (good enough to take to the stock market). Again it occurs to me that after reading this you might simply label me as sexist or a misogynist, but consider this. Ladies does it not at least intrigue you that there could possibly be a man out there that knows you better than you know yourself. A bold and outlandish claim for sure...but...what if it were true. Such a man would need not only be intelligent, but also arrogant. He would be patient and observant. He would possess the insight to know what you needed and the strength to give it to you despite yourself. A man who knows how and when to disrespect you in all the right ways. Does such a man exist?......well....that's not for me to say now is it. Sometimes it's simply about being an enabler. Sometimes I'm just the guy who lights the fuse on a stick of dynamite that was already set to explode. One memorable night I simply watched as I made one girl practically devour her best friend's pussy. They were a cute couple. They had been life-long friends but they had never crossed that barrier with each other or any other girl for that matter. Christ it was just so painfully obvious to me that they were desperate to get the 'girl experience' out of their system. It took very little on my part to convince them that doing it with their best friend really was the best way. I was more than happy to provide the heterosexual validation to that experience. In the end, having a cock in the mix made all the difference and the results were more than spectacular. Sweet little Maria buried her face between her best friend's legs and almost wailed as I started to fuck her with force from behind. I pushed her face hard into that soaking pussy with one hand while I used the other to squeeze each nipple mercilessly. As I dug my fingernails in harder, the pain sent her over the edge. Breaking Jen (Redux) They both came very loudly and very messily. So many climaxes that night. They are true friends in every sense of the word now. I discovered, in fact, that there seemed to be a never ending supply of girls who just wanted to be treated badly. They didn't want romance, they just wanted to be punished and dis-respected and the more I dis-respected them, the sooner they would climax. Oddly enough, the fact that I'm Catholic gave me an almost intrinsic understanding of this urge. I know it still won't make sense to many reading this. I know that's not what all the books on relationships tell you to do. We are supposed to be living in a time when mutual respect between the sexes is considered the ideal. The real truth about men and women just seemed so counter-intuative to me in the beginning. The knowledge that when it came to sex, the normal rules of society didn't apply. The accepted standards of common conduct not only didn't make sense between the sheets, they failed miserably. It took me a long time to understand that simple truth. At first I was confused by it all, I mean is this really the way it is? After a while I stopped asking questions and got on with giving them what they wanted (in most cases, desperately). As the years went by I got more inventive and even more ruthless. I became an expert at teasing and punishing and I discovered how to make the most innocent girls beg for the filthiest things to be done to them. Case and point Renee, a cute school teacher from....well....where she is from isn't important. I met her recently at a club. She was 25 and in-experienced in most things. She was one of those people who seem worldly when you first meet them but on closer examination turn out to be a little lost and ill prepared for the world. It's been my experience that these kinds of girls are usually about as repressed as it's humanly possible to be. We spent the first few hours chatting and talking about her aspirations and dreams. I listened attentively. I watched her closely and drank in her essence as I formulated a plan. I sent a quick text message to a very good female friend of mine once I had decided on what needed to happen. The rest feel into place seamlessly. The next 12 hours would turn out to be the most memorable of that cute little teacher's life. A well structured and deliberate seduction. It started out slowly but with each hour, little by little, things became more daring and perverted. By the third hour she was tied to a bed in her lingerie. By the sixth hour her ass cheeks were red and lined with welts from being spanked with a riding crop. Every welt on that perfect little ass begged for and well earned. As the tenth hour passed Renee was a woman transformed. Kneeling on her hands and knees. Her eyes wide and on fire as she begged the woman behind her (my good friend Tracy) to fuck her virgin ass with a strap-on cock. And where was I while all this was happening? Well that's the beauty of a well co-ordinated double team. I simply knelt in front of her face. Every inch of my cock that she took down her throat was precisely matched by a corresponding inch of strap-on invading her tight little ass. It was the ultimate motivational tool. In fact, towards the end she was deep throating me with such depth and speed that her own resulting anal pounding had been truly impressive. But I digress. You know more than enough about me now. The very perceptive among you may even be asking youselves a very important question right about now. 'Why the fuck is he telling us all this....why should we even care?' Well.....I'll tell you why. Knowing now what I've become. Understanding what kind of man I am. What do you think would happen if I ever met the woman that made me this way. What would I do if Jen ever crossed my path again. Well....as fate would have it, she did, and if you have paid attention to any of what I have just said, then you will know that a man like me is capable of anything. If this scares some of you then fine, you understand the situation better than most. It had been almost 5 years since I had last seen her. I had no desire to ever lay eyes on her again but to be honest, it was a minor miracle I hadn't run into her before then. To the best of my knowledge she had moved to another city over four years ago and that was fine by me. I honestly didn't know how I would react if I ever saw her again anyway. The very idea of that seemed to only repulse me. Every story like this seems to start with that sad old cliché, 'It was just an ordinary day', but the truth was that it really was just another ordinary day. I worked in the inner city. I believe my chosen profession is vital. People see me in order to maximise their potential and become the best human being they can. If you think I'm being vague about what I do for a living then you're absolutely right. You may find out later what it is that I do for a living, but right now it's not important to the events I am about to describe. That's the way it works with me. You don't get personal details until I think you need them. I am not a fictional character. What I chose to share about my own life will be done so as the situation demands. On this particular day I had given myself a nice long lunch. I was having what I like to refer to as a 'donut day' (I had lots of clients in the morning and then in the late afternoon but there was a huge gaping hole in the middle of my schedule.) As I was walking back to work I caught a glimpse of something familiar. It was her shape that I noticed first, a silhouette that became a woman as she drew nearer. We were travelling towards each other on the sidewalk, and with each passing second it became clearer to me that it was Jen. As the distance between us lessened it also became obvious that she had seen me too. There was an instant and obvious tension. It was far too late to turn around or just simply pretend we hadn't seen each other. 'This had to happen sooner or later' I told myself as I slowed down and Jen began to do the same. She didn't look at all comfortable and I didn't even try to disguise my own dismay. So began perhaps the most awkward and unwanted conversation I'd ever had in my life. Jen looked like she always did, just maybe a little older. No taller than 5'7, sandy blonde hair to her shoulders and pale blue eyes. Usually in accounts like this the author will give you the broad strokes about someone's appearance and then just let the reader fill in the blanks with their own imagination. Normally I would do that also, but in Jen's case I can give you an almost exact reference as to the way she looks. In certain photos and from a certain angle you would swear you were seeing Kirsten Dunst's twin sister. That's not a good thing. During those first years that I tried to forget about Jen, even just seeing Kirsten Dunst on a movie poster or on a magazine cover would make my blood run cold. No offence to Kirsten Dunst, but they looked so much alike that it was just an unwanted reminder for me. (For anyone unclear about the actress I'm referring to then go see a 'Spiderman' movie...any of them except the latest one). Jen was cautious. She avoided eye contact at first before she became more comfortable. When our eyes finally did lock I turned to stone. I was cold and resolute. I gave her nothing. She knew very well the anguish she had put me through 5 years earlier and I guess she half expected me to show anger or hatred, but all I gave her was that man of stone. Even if I did have something to say I wouldn't have had much time to say it anyway. This was all just a passing encounter on the street, nothing more. (And that's probably the way it should have stayed). She didn't affect me anymore and I felt calm. I began to study her, maybe trying to figure out how this seemingly innocent girl (looks can be deceiving) had such an effect on me in the past. Actually I could see why I fell for her. To quote a wise old man who lived long ago (In a galaxy far, far away).....'The force was still strong with her' (not to trivialise matters, but throwing in an old Star Wars quote amuses me). She did all those familiar little things that drew men to her. All those cute little gestures and mannerisms that made you want to sweep her off of her feet and be her knight in shining armour, only this time I didn't feel that way at all. I knew her all too well and what she was capable of. In the end it was a pleasant conversation and business cards were exchanged. We said our good-byes and I wondered if I'd ever see her again. I honestly didn't care either way. If you're wondering why I don't elaborate more on the words we exchanged, the truth is that I don't remember them. I had often wondered how I'd react or feel when I saw Jen again. The reality was that I felt nothing. It had no meaning to me. Maybe we talked about the weather or maybe we had discussed the possible cure for cancer, It's not important. What happened not long after however, was important. Two days later I received a pleasant e-mail from Jen saying how much she enjoyed meeting me again. That seemed a little odd to me. I didn't recall any sign of enjoyment or even a smile from her when we had met. The next part was even more surprising and to be honest, slightly disturbing for me. Jen wanted to meet again. She wanted arrange a coffee date and an 'official' catch up. Thinking back on our past it did seem to be in keeping with the way I remember Jen operating. It's also worth mentioning that for all she knew I was probably the same man she had known five years ago. She had no way of knowing what I had become. If she had known that, then I am certain she never would have sent me that e-mail. When I thought about it that way, the idea of meeting for coffee suddenly became a very interesting prospect to me. What would I see with my new, un-feeling eyes? What new discoveries would I make about the person who had inflicted so much pain on me in the past? I sent back my reply and informed her of a certain cafe and a time I would be there. I was even going to take it easy this time. This was purely an intelligence gathering exercise and I would be a complete gentleman...unless. There was one huge caveat to my good behaviour, something that Jen did not know. Here is where it is important for you to fully understand me. Even the worst of people get a second chance from me. That is extremely important for you to know that. If I could change as radically as I had, then there was every chance Jen could have changed too. She would be given every opportunity to prove that she was a better person now. But.....If she even tried to pull her old tricks or flirt her way into my good books then the gloves would come off and a lesson would need to be given. In all honestly I hoped she would pass my test, for my sake just as much as hers. I hoped for that so very much (which was uncharacteristic of me). She emailed her reply shortly after and the date was set. I arrived at the cafe very early and found a table I liked. I chose a seat in the corner with my back to the wall so I could observe everyone coming in or out of the cafe. It was a position of control, and when I felt satisfied with the arrangement I ordered a cup of coffee. Fifteen minutes later I saw her arrive and I watched quietly as she nervously scanned the cafe for a familiar face. I let her search a little while longer before I put my hand up and waved her over. Just like our first meeting, the conversation was tense at first, but to my surprise even I soon loosened up and the words began to flow freely. There was much shared experience between us even if a lot of it in the past had been bad. She began with an apology for the things she had done to me in the past which was a good start I guess. Actually that did go a long way toward smoothing out the exchange, and I have to admit that the signs looked good. Perhaps Jen had decided to join the human race after-all. I always tend to lose track of time when engrossed in conversation, but I became conscious at some point of wanting our coffee date to end. This was not because I was having a bad time, but because I'm a firm believer in quitting while you're ahead. This had been a good start so I was anxious to put an end to it before something happened to take the shine off of the meeting. (In my experience something unfortunate will always happen if given enough time). My instincts turned out to be correct. I had never in my life wished to be proven more wrong about someone than at that moment, but that's not how life works it seems. It was about 40 minutes into our conversation when she nervously leaned forward and said quietly, "I know I was terrible to you, but do you know what? I really miss all those dirty things you used to do to me. Nobody has ever done half of those things since you. I think about it a lot." I felt her leg brush up against mine under the table as she said it. The disappointment I felt at that moment could not be under-stated. To most people what she did and what she said might have been dismissed as harmless, but to me it spoke volumes. The old Jen was clearly alive and well and up to her old tricks all over again. To a person she had inflicted so much pain on in the past, such a gesture was not only inappropriate, but a slap in the face. This was her modus operendi. This was how she manipulated people and how it always started. All of her kind words suddenly meant nothing to me. Sadly, there was now only one way all this could go. The change inside me was rapid and automatic as I began to run through my standard scripts and structures. Up until a few seconds ago I had no intention of using them on her, but it was out of my hands now, she had chosen this, not me. I know what I just said might confuse a lot of you reading this so perhaps some explanation is necessary. I have perfected what I do down to a fine art. I can say that without a word of a lie. When it comes to a certain type of female (roughly 70% fit that psychological profile), I have merely to run through certain verbal structures containing triggering subjects and key phrases. Body language and intonation are also key. The result is almost a foregone conclusion. There is nothing 'hit and miss' about any of this. I can identify more or less straight away if any given female fits that profile. Jen most certainly did. (Note: Before any of you even think it, I do not use any form of hypnosis or NLP. This is not the 1980's people. The assumption that I control someone or take away their will power is a false one. Why try to control someone when all you need to do is guide them in the right direction and then let human nature take it's course? You can leave all those 'self help' notions to those tacky Anthony Robbins clones. In my book they are no better than used car salesmen.) This notion may be hard for some people to grasp or believe and I'm fine with that. They don't have to believe in it in order for it to work on them. Chances are they won't even realise they are being manipulated, it will all just seem like it's their idea. If you ever meet someone like me you won't even know it, I only hope that when you do, you are both on friendly terms. But I have said too much already. Also I'm sure that many of you will be curious as to what Jen was talking about when she referred to all those 'dirty' things I used to do to her. Well it wasn't in the same league as the things I do now but it was still pretty interesting. I would tie her up, maybe blindfold her. A good hard spanking used to set her off pretty spectacularly and as soon as it was over she would waste no time in straddling me and riding me good and hard until she came very loudly. It's fair to say she had an untapped freaky side. She would often tell me she had fantasies of me tying her to a chair and then being made to watch me fuck another girl as a way of punishing her. Like an idiot I was too in love with her to do it back then. I looked Jen squarely in the eyes, and then, knowing full well what I was doing, began the process. "A lot has changed since you were around" I said calmly before continuing "I can tell right now that you couldn't deal with the things I'm into now." "Getting a little ahead of ourselves aren't we?" Jen replied with a smile and went on "I wasn't offering and I wasn't suggesting we jump in the sack, and besides that, I remember very well what you were into and it'll take a lot more than that to scare me!" This was all very familiar territory. Once upon a time I even enjoyed all that power-play bull-shit we used to share, but that was a long time ago. "You may remember what I did five years ago, but you have no idea who I am now and what I get up to in the privacy of my own home." "Elighten me" Jen replied, clearly fascinated and drawn in. "You really want the truth?" I was having fun with this now. It was all just so easy. "Of course. Tell me the truth, if you dare." "Fine". I took a long pause and drew out the moment before beginning. I leaned in just a little closer then, my movements slightly exaggerated. "I wonder how many people you've fooled with this sweet and innocent routine of yours." There was no malice in my delivery. "It's not a routine. What you see is what you get." She countered. I withdrew slightly then and made no attempt to hide my amusement. "Nice try, but we both know that's a lie......and......" I've paused for a reason. I've paused because this next part is important. What you've been reading so far is simply the set-up, but what comes next is the hook. "......and.....I have interesting ways of dealing with girls who lie to me." And there it is. Once the hook is delivered there is invariably only one response available. "Oh really?.........." Jen thought for a moment before offering up the expected reply. "And how exactly do you deal with them?" My own retort was calm and measured. "I punish them. I spank them till they sob uncontrollably and then I tease them until they beg for me to let them come.....and when they do......they come for me in the most filthy and degrading ways. I draw it out. I do it to them over and over again until it drives them insane and all they want in the world is to be allowed to come just one more time." My tone was unwavering and my eyes never left hers. Nothing about my demeanour suggested that I was being anything but deadly serious. "Fuck!.........You had me at 'I punish them'! Jen replied, clearly stunned by what she had heard. "I think we're done here" I said bringing the coffee date to an abrupt end. The timing of this was deliberate and intentional as you have probably already guessed. "Christ you really know how to make an exit!" Jen interrupted as I got up to leave. My sudden decision to end our meeting had taken her by complete surprise. "Thank-you for the conversation Jen. It was nice to see you again. Best of luck with whatever it is you chose to do." I shook her hand. I left immediately. I didn't look back. A good start.....a satisfactory outcome. Like clockwork, two days later I received a follow-up e-mail from her. Two days is the magic number for this kind of contact. One day seems too eager but three days seems too complacent. She thanked me for the coffee and then went on to say... "I can't get the last part of our conversation out of my head. I'm very distracted by it. I'm dying to know what you meant when you said you made all those girls come in filthy ways. You weren't exactly clear about that. Would it be so wrong if I asked you to show me what you mean?" Breaking Jen (Redux) And there it is girls and boys. It's almost disappointing how easy it really is isn't it. In truth, this was far easier than most similar situations, but in this case I had the benefit of knowing Jen and what made her tick. While I haven't shared with you all that I said to her during our coffee date, I have given you enough information for you to get a very firm grasp on the situation. I'm not a monster. I don't get off on just hurting people. There has to be intense pleasure for the female in everything I do. It's giving pleasure that drives this whole process for me and I've never seen a girl come harder than when she is pushing her boundaries and living out her dirtiest fantasies. Sometimes a little pain and adrenaline turns a great experience into something they will remember for the rest of their lives. There is one more piece of information that might help you to deal with all of this. Long before I ran into Jen on the street I had already come up with what I considered to be the perfect lesson. It was the most beautiful and the most intense session and it was only to be used on either the bravest, or in this case, the worst of women. An attitude adjustment and a sexual experience unrivalled by any other. I know what you're thinking....'that's one hell of a build-up!' Surely no situation could possibly live up to that boast. Well, a lot can happen in twenty-four hours. I mean just consider that. A sexual experience that could last an entire day. Such a thing could be not only mind altering, but life altering too. As luck and fate would have it, it would now be Jen who would turn out to be it's first lucky recipient. It was clear to me that she had already chosen that fate anyway. I even felt that this experience could be the making of her. This could be the key to her transformation into being a good and decent human being. There would be intense and almost unbearable pleasure in what I had planned for her....but let's not forget that she had hurt me very badly in the past. If I was to give her what she wanted then there would have to be some cruelty involved to fulfil my own sense of justice. There had to be some kind of payback for what she had done and it wasn't going to be as simple as a spanking. It would be a real experience that would result in a constant reminder that all her actions had consequences. It would be an intense sexual encounter containing both punishment and reward. It would be a lesson in both causality and consequence. Her session would be structured and deliberate. Her fate would be placed entirely in her own hands at all times. If Jen was able to keep her head and control her desires, then she would receive nothing but pure pleasure. But.....for every lapse in control there would be a price to pay and a reminder of her weakness. Every climax would come with its own consequence. A lesson she should have learned all those years ago but apparently never did. Back then it was her pleasure that brought me suffering, but very soon she would bear all the responsibility for her own actions. Even at that point I gave Jen a way out. When you get right down to it I really did give her so many chances to save herself. I even e-mailed her back with a warning. (which I have thoughtfully cut and pasted below). "Jen. I think you mis-understood my intentions. You and I have history. There are many unresolved issues and to be honest I've never forgiven you for the things that you did. If you are suggesting that I simply overlook all you have done and engage in some mutual act of gratification then you do not understand the situation. However, if you desire to atone for your sins then that is another matter entirely. The price for your atonement will be your full sexual submission over a period of my choosing. Your punishment will be intense but the pleasure will be unlike anything you have ever experienced. You may consider this as both a promise and a warning." Interestingly Jen's reply took an entire week to arrive. It was a process that I was familiar with. No doubt she would have dismissed my e-mail at first glance but it would have almost surely crept under her skin. Within a couple of days it would have become a source of great distraction for her. In her confusion she probably would have changed her mind many times before she finally sent the inevitable e-mail that would start the ball rolling. Here's part of the reply e-mail she sent. "......and I know I'm probably going to regret this, but god I have to know....I think about what you said all the time. I know you will make me pay for being such a bitch to you...god...I think that thought is turning me on even more. I don't even know what you're gonna do to me...and that just makes me want it more...please just tell me what to do and I'll do it." And so it began. I told her to keep the weekend free and I also made it clear to her that for a period of twenty four hours her body would become my property. She would fulfil my every whim and obey my every word until I chose to set her free. If you think that she might have had an issue with any of that or was perhaps defiant in some way then my simple response is this. Once you take charge and clearly instruct a certain type of woman about what you want and expect, then she will capitulate. I'm not a misogynist (I know I keep pointing that out, but it's important). I'm telling you this because that has been my experience. Many women just crave a strong male to take charge, but it has to be someone they respect and trust. This does not lessen the role of women, it's just a simple truth that people don't talk about for fear of being labelled a 'sexist'. Like I said earlier, humans are complex creatures. Jen's instructions were simple, but for me it was all the things that she didn't know about yet that were complex. There were many preparations to be made. She was instructed to arrive at my place on Saturday evening at the prescribed time. What she wore also indicated what her role and status would be over that weekend. She would become a good little slut for me...she would wear the tightest dress, the highest heels and the nastiest lingerie she could find...and she would do it all for my pleasure and enjoyment. The fun was just beginning. I immediately made an important call to a very close friend of mine called Tracy (Yes, I'm referring to the very same 'Tracy' I mentioned earlier. The Tracy that fucked that sweet little school teacher with a strap-on). She was almost beside herself as we discussed my ideas for Jen's punishment. She was flattered and excited to be given such a pivotal role in the re-education of Jen and she even added a few touches of her own which turned out to be pure genius. I really should tell you a little about Tracy because she will factor heavily in what you are about to read. She was a nurse once upon a time, but I suspect that the role of a nurse requires a person to have a little more empathy than Tracy possesses. Sympathy is not one of her strong points. For that reason alone she was the perfect partner in crime during many of my conquests. She now calls herself a 'Body Artist', which just means she does body piercings and hair removal at the local beauty shop. You could say that pain and discomfort are a minor by-product of a job well done for her. Her hair always seems to be dyed jet black and if I was forced to put her into a category (which I am loathe to do but it may help matters) I would describe her as a sort of slutty emo/goth chick. I'm sure you know the type, short skirts and fishnet stockings with boots. She wore those clothes as if they were some kind of uniform practically every day. There's no denying that Tracy has that dark quality that seems to attract both males and females in equal amounts and seeing as Tracy has an equal opportunity policy with both males and females it all makes for a very successful combination. Tracy and I met up in person for a final discussion on the night before it was all due to go down. She would be bringing her full bag of tricks with her on that fateful night. Her skills and expertise were to play a key role. I told her to spare no expense and that I would be covering all the costs involved. She just needed to be ready to step up and play her part when the time came. "This is going to be one epic night...but I can tell you already that the little slut won't even last three hours." Tracy said looking smug. "What makes you think that?" I replied with a smile. "Well, all we have to do is make her have a nasty little orgasm three times right?" "Yes, three times in twenty-four hours." I said knowing full well what Tracy was about to say. "Baby you've seen me in action. You know I could make any girl come three times in ten minutes if I wanted her to". "I know you could" I said carefully stroking Tracy's ego, "but we are going to play the long game on this one. We are going to take our time and do things right. Are we clear?" "Yessir!" Tracy said as she snapped me an exaggerated fake salute. She was clearly enjoying all this just as much as I was, maybe even more if that was possible. I mentioned earlier that I would give you, the reader, a second (and last) chance to stop reading when we came to an appropriate juncture. Well my friends, this is it. Many of you will have read enough to be worried. Some of you may suspect where this is going and for many, your worries will be justified. All I can say to you is this. Jen was not harmed in any way. Any pain or discomfort she may have experienced was also accompanied by overwhelming pleasure. We took her on a journey that was psychological just as much as it was physical. There is a sublime kind of pleasure that can't be attained without a certain amount of cruelty. We allowed her to access a part of herself that she can never switch off. (or would even want to now). So...if the idea of all this frightens you, that is quite normal. You may wish to stop reading at this point. I do not take offence. I understand fully. For those brave souls who want to continue this journey, then welcome. You have my unreserved thanks and respect. I'm not a big fan of drawing things out so ill simply say that all the preparations went without a hitch. Things went so well, in fact, that it almost felt like all of this was pre-ordained to happen. I've given you all plenty of information and you all now know the events that lead to all of this. So.....grab some popcorn and get yourself comfortable girls and boys, because the build-up is officially over. The curtain is raising........The feature act is about to begin. It was 8pm on the dot on that Saturday night when I heard a timid knock on my front door. I opened it to see Jen standing in front of me. She looked nervous and a little scared as she flashed me an uneasy smile and I smiled back (more out habit than anything else.) That was a huge moment. I actually had to take a few seconds and steel myself then. I had to remind myself why all this needed to happen, because what I now saw standing in front of me was an absolute vision. Jen still had a way, and a presence about her that surely would have tested the resolve of a lesser man. She was dressed in a red evening dress that stretched tight against her body, almost like it had been painted onto her skin. Everything was red. Her heels, her stockings, it all matched. If she had taken that much trouble with what she wore on the outside then I was dying to see what she had on under that tight little dress. Her hair was pulled back tight and weaved into a single ponytail that reached to her shoulders. I had never seen her like this before. The dress hugged the contour of her breasts like it had been stitched in place and seeing the faint outline of her nipples pressing up against the fabric was beyond distracting. I quickly regained my composure, but not before she had seen my reaction to her outfit and she looked pleased. I realised my mistake and almost cursed myself for letting her see that. 'I can't let her see any weakness again' I thought to myself, and for the rest of that night and the next day, she never saw that again. Sure it was a minor slip, but little things like that can be important. I re-focussed and then without a word I motioned for her to come in. She closed the door behind her as she followed me into the house. "Welcome" I said simply and coldly as I walked. She didn't answer. "Did you sleep well last night?" Jen looked puzzled by my question. "I'm not sure what you mean." "It's simple really" I continued. "Did you lay awake wondering about all those dirty little things I'm about to make you do....or....did you sleep like a baby." "I didn't sleep at all" Jen confessed immediately. "Thinking about tonight just made me all turned on and scared at the same time." "Did you make yourself come?" I asked casually. "No. I don't even know why, but I kinda got the idea that you wouldn't have wanted me to do that." Hearing her say that actually impressed me. "You have good instincts" I told her and she seemed pleased at my comment. She continued to follow as I walked into the living room. I took a seat on the leather couch in the center of the room and I watched with some satisfaction as Jen hesitated, not quite knowing what to do next. She decided to sit next to me on the couch. I let her know immediately that she had made the wrong decision. She actually jumped a little when I interrupted and harshly barked out my first instruction of the night. "NO. You don't get to sit next to me. I want you to stand in the middle of the room and face me while I enjoy the view." She did as she was told. She looked nervous and on edge. I casually poured a glass of wine from a strategically placed bottle and just sat there enjoying my drink as I looked her up and down and studied her body. There was some soft 'mood music' playing in the background and I wasted no time in using that little detail to my advantage. "Move your hips to the music for me nice and slow. I want a preview how you're gonna move later.......when things get.........interesting." She seemed to hesitate. I saw an old familiar look spread across her face. I knew that look all too well. The look of a stubborn, defiant child who was used to getting everything her own way. That look more than anything else told me that the old Jen was alive and well. "You can do as I say or you can leave." I said calmly and I meant it. If Jen had walked out my door then I wouldn't have been the least bit disappointed. The way I saw it, I had a back-up date with Tracy set up already anyway. Jen started to move then. She clearly wasn't used to being told what to do and she seemed a little lost. I decided to clarify the situation for her. "Was there something about my e-mail that you didn't understand?" "I understood it alright." She replied. She continued to sway her hips to the music but to be honest her dancing skills left a lot to be desired. "Well you're my property for twenty-four hours. You do as I say. You act as I say. Do we have that part clear?" "Uh-huh." She breathed nervously. Jen was putting up some resistance but that was pretty normal. A woman's darkest desire is usually something that scares her. It's the forbidden fruit she was never supposed to taste. "Did you think I was making it all up?" I said then. "No." I just watched her move for a few moments before verbally stepping things up a notch. "Big things are gonna happen tonight Jen. You're gonna scream and moan and come for me. You're gonna become the nasty little slut I always knew you could be." There was genuine fear in her eyes then but I wasn't through yet. "Before long you'll be coming so hard and dirty for me that you're gonna forget your own name." She was clearly stunned to hear me talk that way. Her reply was even a little shaky. "Fuck......it's...it's like you're a different person. You never used to talk like that." Maybe she was starting to understand...maybe not. "Well, you haven't changed at all," I replied before elaborating. "Oh sure, I know the things I said in that e-mail shocked you more than a little, but it probably wasn't all that long before you were creaming your tiny panties just thinking about what I'd make you do.........isn't that right?" She didn't reply, she just continued to sway as her hands moved over her hips and belly. I could see a spark of arousal begin to form and then grow in her eyes. Her movements were soft and sensual now as her manicured fingers began to roam across that tight red dress. The situation was clearly becoming far more agreeable, her own touch now seeming to mimic the soft caress of a gentle lover. Jen became far more responsive to my suggestions then. Every so often I would issue a new order and she would follow it without question, her level of excitement clearly rising with each request. "Touch your breasts for me while you move." She obeyed. "Now turn around and work that tight little ass." It was done. "That's a good girl, now put a finger in your mouth and suck it real good." Her eyes locked with mine as she performed that final act. I saw a look of intense passion in her eyes. It was an expression that was not specific to Jen as such. It was that conflicted look you often see on the face of a woman when her will-power succumbs to desire. I can't stress to you how much I love that moment. It is beautiful and dark all at once. That moment of self awareness that every intelligent woman goes through when she feels all self control and better judgement giving way to base lust. She knows it. She's fully aware of what's happening, and that realisation only just makes the experience more intense. Then, moments later, her total capitulation to that desire. Believe me when I say that I could go on about that subject for hours, the psychology and meaning behind it all is really quite fascinating....but that is perhaps best left for another time. Jen's brief and symbolic defiance had broken for now. For the time being I had full control of her, but I had no doubt that the 'defiant Jen' would return later in the evening. What I had planned for her that night would not just push past her sexual boundaries but shatter them altogether. There would no doubt be more resistance to come before she submitted fully. It would be a process that would repeat over and over. Every time she broke would be more intense than the last. Each capitulation triggering a sexual experience more intense than the last. She would emerge a different woman at the end of it all. Respectful, repentant, and with new sexual appetites that would drive her to distraction. I'm aware that the very title of this account itself may, however, be somewhat misleading. My intention was not to 'break' that wild streak of defiance inside Jen that I had once loved so much. My intention was simply to put that defiance to a greater purpose. A lesser man might have simply used Jen's own weaknesses against her. That method is acceptable if all you are after is revenge, but when that kind of experience is over, all that is left is resentment. Going down that road wouldn't have achieved the kind of lasting change I was looking for. In Jen's case it would be her very defiance that would define her experience. I would use her own strength to save her from herself. The mental impact of such an event would be lasting and profound. I know that my thought process and my words are going to sound unusual to anyone reading this. By now you will perhaps understand that my methods are precise and calculated, that I also have an above average intelligence and a large amount of patience and resolve.