I wanted to take Helen in my arms and sooth her racking sobs, but part of me suspected a trick to get me close enough for a swift knee.  She looked so vulnerable, though, that I had to take the chance.  I took her by the hands and guided her to my sofa, where we sat down.  She melted against me and wept.  I stroked her hair and told her she'd find someone else, someone who'd agree with her politics.  She looked up at me with tear-filled eyes and said she didn't want someone else.  I almost…

I left the rally via Uber.  I waited until Helen left the room before I limped out the door to call it.  It was hard standing outside.  The late October wind had picked up, and I had forgotten my hat inside.  I wasn't going back in to be mocked.  I had had enough of those ugly women grabbing their crotches and yodeling, then falling to their knees for Helen's amusement.  Also, my post-bust wood was very visible, and I really didn't want to be teased for my fetish by…

As the election neared, Helen grew more distant.  To her, I was the enemy because I didn't follow her leftist herd mentality.  I'm just not into politics.  If and when I do vote, it's by flipping a coin.  She believed everything the media said about the president, and I didn't care.  My apathy enraged and disgusted her.  One would think she'd bust me more because of that, but our dates became fewer, and I seldom spent the night.  When I was over there, she'd insist we watch cable news, which…

Sigh...this will be the final installment of the Helen saga.  There's a lot of pain, mental and physical, involved.  As a feminist, Helen was very much into far left politics.  I myself am apolitical.  But I saw the opportunity to get into political squabbles that would lead to me getting my rocks off with angry kicks and knees, then mind blowing sex.  How wrong I was.  Watching the debates, I kept making snide remarks about the idiocy of the Left's candidate.  That earned me a hammerfist…

Once she realized she loved busting my balls, Helen took every opportunity to engage me in either playful wrestling, where she would "accidentally" knee, punch, and kick me(never too hard)or fights that escalated into shoving matches that she won because she would knee me(again, never too hard).  I would stagger around, holding my nuts and groaning while she laughed delightedly.  Afterwards, she would apologize and seduce me by bending over and swaying her hips.  The make-up sex was…

Our relationship grew stronger and our sex life grew more kinky as Helen began dressing the part of the dominatrix.  She didn't kick or knee me.  She was content with being in control.  I craved the pain of a solid knee or a kick or both, but I couldn't let on that it was my fetish.  I had had a girlfriend who knew it, and when we argued or fought, she held off doing it just to make me suffer.  I had to make Helen believe it was always her idea, it was always a surprise move, and I never…

I met Helen in a coffee shop.  When I walked in, she was arguing with a group of guys at the table next to her.  They were wearing MAGA hats, and she was giving them holy hell for their fashion choice.  I was only half listening as I waited for my turn in line until one of the guys insulted her.  Her comeback was so quick and spot-on that I laughed out loud.  I like clever women.  She looked up at me and smiled.  It was my turn at the counter, so I shyly gave my order and fumbled with my…