Winners and Losers
Part 1: How We Met
She turned every head the moment she walked into the room. A tall, statuesque blonde with an immaculate face and legs for days. I couldn't help but to stare. She caught me, and as soon as she made eye contact, I glanced away in shame. I turned back towards the bar and stared into my beer when a sultry voice crept in behind me:
"You shouldn't do that, you know."
I swiveled around in my chair to find the girl of my dreams talking to me. Flustered by her beauty, I stammered for a bit as I searched for a response:
"I...uh...shouldn't do...uh...what?""
"Break your eye contact so easily. Most girls want a man with confidence, and when you look away before we do, it's a dead giveaway that you're less confident than we are."
I'd actually never considered the idea until she mentioned it. Once I took a moment to think about it, I realized that maybe this was the reason why I hadn't had much success with the ladies. After all, I was above-average height at 5'10, and my 4 days a week gym routine had left me with a pretty solid body of 180 pounds and some cut features. I still had all of my hair, and I also had very sharp, striking facial features. At least I liked to think so. The idea ruminated in my mind, and I turned to thank her for her advice. She smiled and said to me, softly:
"Of course, that's not what I want..."
Intrigued, I decided to press the issue.
"What is it you want?" I asked. "Tall, dark, and handsome?"
"Not at all." She replied. "I'm a very...aggressive person. I play rough, and I don't like to lose. Not at my job, and certainly not in a relationship. Most girls might want to be swept off of their feet, but I prefer to do the sweeping."
"Well, judging by your height, I'd say that if you're going to be doing any sweeping, you might need a really long broom!"
Did I really say that? Ugh. Yes, I did. How awkward. She must think I'm such a dork. That wasn't even funny or clever. She stared at me for a brief moment before she began smiling again.
"Honey, I've been 6'2 since I was 15. And when you're as tall as I am, you use whatever broom you want. Even one that isn't very...clever." She winked at me and my heart shot into my stomach. I knew she could tell how excited she made me, and somehow I got the impression that it turned her on, knowing that I wanted her so badly. Before I could open my mouth to respond, she beat me to the punch.
"I'm interested in getting to know you better. Let's get out of here and grab coffee at the shop down the street."
She grabbed my coat and handed it to me, and I immediately followed her out the door like an adoring puppy. As we entered the coffee shop, she pointed to a table, and I sat down while she ordered drinks. After tipping the barista, she sat down next to me and we started to get to know one another. Her name was Amber Stevens, and my name was John McKenzie. I told her about my exciting career in the world of engineering, and she told me about her career as a high-priced attorney. I went to a state school and graduated with a 3.0. She was the valedictorian at a very prestigious university, then studied abroad for a year before returning to the Ivys and heading her class in Law School. I carried blueprints and made coffee for a year before taking a job at a middling civil firm. She clerked for a Supreme Court justice for two years, and shortly afterwards took a position at the top law firm in town. I was quickly approaching my 33rd birthday, and she had just turned 27. When I found out how old she was, I couldn't help but comment:
"Wow! You've accomplished a lot so far! How have you done all of this when you're so young?"
"I told you" she replied. "I don't like to lose. In fact, let me show you something."
She took my hand and walked me to the parking lot out back. We walked right by my 10 year old beat up Mustang, and she stood in front of a Full-size truck that was taller than me.
"Ta-da! This is my baby. Do you like it?"
I was stunned. This car probably cost more than my yearly salary.
"It's...really nice. I've never seen a woman driving such a big truck before."
"Well, when you're 6'2, you can't drive anything girly. There's no way I could fit into a Mustang like most girls my age!"
My face turned 3 shades of red, and after glancing behind us, she quickly put two and two together.
"Mustangs are great and all. I just wanted something different. Kind of like...you."
Before I could reply, she wrapped her arms around me and began kissing me. It was a strange feeling - I had never looked up to kiss a woman. But man, it was fantastic. I still remember that night, and thinking "I could DEFINITELY get used to this."
When she was done with her kiss, she slowly sauntered over to the passenger side of her truck, opened the door, and patted the seat. I quickly shuffled over and stumbled into the truck, which was obviously built for people just a little taller than I. She noticed and giggled a little before shutting the door behind me, and walking around to the driver's side.
"Let's go back to my place." she said to me, softly. "I want to show you just how much I hate losing."
We went back to her place (more like a mansion) and headed to the bedroom. I tried to pick her up and put her onto the bed, but she didn't like that. "It feels too much like losing." she said. She weighed 155 pounds, and she didn't like being so easily moved. She climbed into the bed herself, I followed, and we made love all night long. Each time, she reached climax before I did. And each time, she smiled, bit my earlobe, and whispered in my ear those two words she loves so much: "I win."
We had a whirlwind romance that lasted for just under 6 months. Every weekend, she would pick me up in that giant truck of hers, and we would head out for dinner and a night of fun before returning to the giant beachside palace that she called a home. After one particularly lengthy night of lovemaking, she leaned over and said to me:
"I have a question that I need to ask you."
I figured she was going to tell me to get rid of my ratty old Mustang and pick up a car that she could fit in. I asked if that's what she meant, and she laughed out loud.
"No! Of course not. Don't take this the wrong way, but I want to do the driving. I don't do well with sitting passenger side. It's too much like losing. Just like when..." her thought trailed off into the distance.
"When what?" I inquired.
"Well, every time I look at your body and I see your muscles, I can't help but think..."
"Think what?" I asked.
"Never mind. I'm getting off track. Here's what I wanted to ask you: I love you, and I want you to be mine for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?"
I was shocked. Normally, I would have expected to do the proposing. But this was how our relationship was. She led, and I followed.
"Before you say yes, you need to know something: I've been offered a senior partnership at my firm, but in order to accept it, I have to work in our Chicago office for two years."
"Oh. Well, I suppose we could live in Chicago. I love it there!" I responded
"You don't understand..." she said matter-of-factly. "The two years of working out of the Chicago location will take all of the time that I'll have. Most nights, I'll be sleeping on a couch in my office. They're grooming me for the top partner position in 5 years when our senior partner retires, and they need me to play catch-up."
I was heartbroken. Wasn't this the girl who had just proposed to me? She could sense my confusion, and she said
"I want to marry you, and I want to marry you here, where our homes are. But I don't have the time to make arrangements or even to be in the same town as you are. So if you say yes, I'll need you to stay here and handle all of the wedding preparations, and when I'm done in Chicago, I'll move right back here and we'll live happily ever after.
My eyes lit up, and I knew exactly what I wanted.
"In that case, then I absolutely, totally say YES! I would love to spend the rest of my life with you."
She breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank God. You know how I feel about losing things.
Part 2: The Wedding
The next two years were an absolute blur. Between my engineering job and planning the wedding, I liked to pretend that I was almost as busy as Amber was, but somehow I knew that she was handling much bigger deals than just a wedding. Every few weeks or so, she would call me on the phone when she had a few spare minutes. She had a big surprise for our wedding night, and she would tease me with it every chance that she got.
As the first year passed and we headed into year two, I decided to get back into the gym a little bit. All of the wedding planning and work had made me a little pudgy around the edges. I was pushing the scales at 190, and decided that I wanted to drop 15 pounds and surprise my bride-to-be, too. I squeaked in a few gym visits per week as I wrapped up planning the wedding, and made it down to a lean 175 pounds just before my tuxedo fitting.
"I can't believe I'm marrying such a badass!"
I stared ahead into the mirror and blinked twice as the thought sunk into my mind. I still couldn't believe my good fortune. Here I was, just your average, introverted software engineer, and I was marrying a beautiful, intelligent, and hard-working woman. I smiled to myself and thought back to our first meeting. I was definitely making the right decision. I loved Amber for many reasons, she loved me for whatever reason, and I was just thankful to spend the rest of my life with her. My best man gave me the signal, and we marched down the aisle to await my future.
The orchestra began to play, and Amber walked out. She was wearing a beautiful, flowing white dress, with her maid of honor carrying the back in tow. She got to the front, and a few of our friends giggled when she stood next to me wearing her heels. We exchanged vows, and I couldn't remember ever being so happy. We kissed, she threw the bouquet, we cut the cake, and all of those other fun little things that people do at their weddings. It was a dizzying mess of my old college friends and her top-tier attorney co-workers. By the end of it all, we stumbled to the door of our luxury suite.
"OK, surprise #1!" she said. She opened the door, and, in one swift motion, she reached over, picked me up in her arms, carried me into the room, and set me down gently on the bed. I was absolutely floored.
"How did you do that?!" I asked incredulously.
"You'll see..." she replied, ominously. "I'm going to go change into something more...comfortable. And then, you'll be ready for surprise #2."
She headed into the bathroom, and I did my best to camouflage my raging erection. I found the TV remote and flipped through the hotel channels for a few minutes before I heard the bathroom door open. I turned my head to look and what I saw blew my mind.
Amber. Was. Huge.
"Here's surprise #2, John. Right after I arrived in Chicago, I found out that the office in Chicago has a gym. I thought back to all of those times when we were laying in bed. You with your muscles and me with my skinny little body. I felt like such a loser, and I HATE losing. I wanted to show you who the real winner is."
My jaw dropped to the floor. I already knew who the winner was, and it wasn't me.
"I spent two hours a day, 6 days a week, working with a personal trainer. When I told you I was busy with work, I wasn't lying. To me, this was just as important as work. I needed you to know that I wasn't going to lose to you. Ever. Again."
I gulped. Clearly she meant business.
"Come into the bathroom with me for a minute, won't you John? Surprise #3 is waiting."
I cautiously arose from the bed and walked into the bathroom.
"Take your shirt off." Amber commanded me. I did what she said.
"Oh, John! Your body looks so good. Have you been working out?"
"That was my surprise for you..." I said sheepishly. Some surprise. I could already feel her eyes all over me. Sizing me up.
"That's so cute, John. Here, step on the scale and let me see how much you weigh."
I placed one foot onto the scale and then another. 176.8 pounds. Must've eaten too much cake at the reception.
"OK John, you can get off of the scale now. Let me show you surprise #3".
I stepped off of the scale. She stepped on, and we both looked down.
197.6. My wife outweighed me by 20 pounds.
"Well John, it looks like I've got you by 21 pounds." She smirked and continued. "We both know who's taller too, don't we?"
She had me by 4 inches. No contest there.
"Of course, I'm also a partner at a law firm now, and you're still stuck in your crummy engineering job, aren't you?"
I nodded reluctantly. She had me there, too.
"And then, there's this. Let's call this surprise #4. Flex your arm."
I complied, and held up my flexed bicep for her to see in the mirror.
"Now watch this."
She stood behind me and flexed her arm. Her bicep was easily bigger than mine, at least an inch or two around, from what I could see.
"Wow..." was all I could manage to stammer out.
"Wow is right". She said cockily. "If I measure this arm..." she pointed to her right bicep "the tape measure will say 19 inches. What would it say if I measured your arm, John?"
"...Less than that..." I said, defeated.
"That's right John. I've always been taller, smarter, and richer than you. And now, I'm bigger than you, too. How do you feel about that?"
I couldn't think of anything to say. I was utterly humiliated, and, at the same time, I had never been so turned on in my life.
"This is what's going to happen, John." She demanded. "You're going to put that arm down, you're going to turn around and walk out to that bed like the loser you are. Then, I'm going to walk into the room, get into the bed, and you're going to tell me I'm the winner."
I did exactly as she said. Even if I wasn't so turned on, I was afraid of being disobedient.
"Who's the loser, John?"
"...me."
"And who's the winner?"
"...You are."
"What's that, John? I can't hear you?"
"...I said you are."
She smirked again and placed two hands on my shoulders. She pushed me down and laid on top of me. She was so strong...
"Alright John. It's time for the winner to take what she wants from the loser. If you know what's good for you, you'll resist me."
I tried as hard as I could to break away from her grip. I twisted and turned and clawed and scratched. She was just too strong.
"I love it when you try to fight back, John. It just lets me know that I'm stronger than you'll ever be." She held me down and rode my cock until I passed out.
Part 3: The Aftermath
I woke up in a daze. I glanced around the room, but didn't see Amber. After a moment of concentration, I could hear the shower running. Realizing that she would be done soon, I did my best to tidy up the room and bed before she got back. I had seldom finished fluffing the pillows when I heard the bathroom door open and saw my massive wife walk in.
"Good morning, loser." she said mockingly. "How does it feel to wake up knowing you're my bitch?"
The last sentence sent chills down my spine. I never knew how badly I wanted to be hers until she said it.
"You liked that, didn't you?" She smirked again, as she was now growing accustomed to doing. "Good, because I liked it, too. I like it when you know where your place is, and you know where my place is."
I liked it too, but I didn't dare tell her that.
"So, now that we've officially consummated our marriage, here's how it's going to be." Amber said directly. "You're going to quit that crummy engineering job, and you're going to stay home and take care of our house. You will cook for me, you will clean for me, and you will love it. If I ever feel like you don't love it, then you can expect for me to be displeased. And when a winner like me gets displeased with a loser like you, things tend to get...violent."
"Yes honey" I responded. What did she mean? Hopefully she wouldn't hit me. She was so big...
"Next order." she said "since you're my bitch, I'm not taking your last name. You're taking mine."
John Stevens did have a nice ring to it...
"Last order, and this is the most important one. You are never allowed in the gym again. Not even on a treadmill. I don't want to see you doing even one pushup. A loser like you will not have muscles any more. You don't deserve them. The only way you'll ever get to see muscles again..." she flexed both her arms, and scared the life out of me, "is if I let you see my muscles. And as long as you follow my orders, you'll be seeing them plenty."
I liked the sound of that.
"Now John, get back into the bed. I'm going to overpower you again, and I want to make sure you're trying your hardest so that I can enjoy my inevitable victory as much as possible."
I got back into bed and prepared for the worst. In every marriage, one person is the winner and one person is the loser. And I knew which one I was meant to be.