do what tucker max did (wew.tuckermax.com)
heres the story long but worth it... this isent the best story theres better oens on his site.
Girl almost beats Tucker at his own game
You’ve probably already read The Miss Vermont Story, but believe it or not, Katy Johnson was not the craziest girl I met in Florida. She wasn’t even in the top two. Number One is a girl named “Joanne” who I will write about in another story (once I emotionally recover from dating her), but this story is about Number Two, a girl named “Jill.”
I met Jill at some ill-conceived fundraiser for multiple amputee infants with fluid in their brains and swollen spinal cords. It was thrown by the Junior League or some sort of similar organization dedicated to finding rich husbands for vacuous single women. She was one of the organizers, very good looking, and seemed normal, which is very significant in Florida. We talked about the wine, I pretended to listen to her, she loved that I came from a “prominent Florida family”--a quote that still sends me into fits of laughter--so we went on a date later that week.
I thought she was kinda bland and boring at the charity event, but I went on the date anyway because she was hot. On the first date she only reaffirmed my initial impression--she sucks. Not dumb, but not bright, not interesting, but not totally repellant; this girl was there, but that’s about it. There seemed to be nothing compelling about her aside from her looks.
Despite that fact that she bored me, something about her kept me into the first date enough to go on a second--despite her refusal to hook up after Date One. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but there was something there that I wanted to see more of. Besides, I hadn’t had sex in two weeks and she was my best option.
Date Two started out boring as well, until I figured out why I had a subconscious interest despite her inability to hold a conversation. I made a totally innocuous joke about having to pay more when you beat up Guatemalan hookers during sex, and the girl instantly went from polite-but-distant to clearly-into-me. The conversation turned to sex and it was like a switch was thrown. It was weird; everything about her lit up, she became totally engaged in the conversation and actually became slightly interesting. At one point she got a Cheshire cat grin on her face, her eyes narrowed and she coyly asked me,
Jill “Are you naughty, Tucker Max?”Tucker “Who are you talking to? You can’t think up anything that I haven’t done already. Twice.”
I didn’t know it then, but that exchange would soon have a place of honor in the Foot-In-Mouth Hall of Fame.
Remember when I said she seemed normal? Yeah…I was quickly dissuaded of that notion when we got back to my place and she took my hands, placed them around her neck and told me,
“I want you to strangle me as you fuck me. Not too hard, don’t choke me, but make sure I can feel it.”
It was a bit awkward at first. Not really strangling her; there are plenty of girls I’ve wanted to choke to death, but more coordinating the act itself. It’s not easy to fuck with both your hands around a girl’s neck, especially if you’ve never done it before. You’re so used to using your hands for other things--balance, hair-pulling, using the remote--that it takes you awhile to get a rhythm going. But once I got acclimated, it was kinda fun.
The next morning, we moved on from my hands to my belt. Around her neck, pulling on it as I fucked her from behind. The best part was when she was putting the belt around her neck, and asked me,
“Do you have a t-shirt or washcloth I can use? I need to put something soft between the belt and my neck or it’ll leave marks.”
This girl was straight out of an HBO Real Sex episode (except not ugly). If it was sexual, she wanted it to include pain and humiliation. Over the next three weeks, we ran the entire gamut of sexual deviancy:
The first night was erotic asphyxiation.
The next night we added dominance role playing, name calling, and brutally violent ass sex.
The third night we acted out her mock rape fantasies.
Then it just avalanched from there…tossing my salad, comfy cuffs, kitchen utensils. Pain. Torture. Everything you can imagine and worse.
Hmmm…I wonder if she has issues with her childhood?
At first, I kinda liked it. I got to beat her up during sex, call her whatever names I wanted, pull her hair, throw her around, fuck any hole I wanted as hard as I wanted, and basically do anything I could think of to her whenever I felt like it; nothing was out of bounds. She was like my own personal sexual canvas to experiment on. Pain, torture and humiliation do not turn me on sexually, but I had never really done any of this to this extreme before. The novelty of it all was exciting.
But every night some variation of this sentence would go through my head, “Am I really doing this to her? Did I just stick a carrot in her ass as I fucked her doggy-style? And she LIKES it?” After about three weeks of this, every time pushing it further and further, I was at the point where I was doing shit to this girl that could have literally gotten me thrown in jail. I was thinking about filming her consenting to this stuff, Tupac style, because when I dumped her I didn’t want the blood on my spatula to be used as evidence against me in a domestic assault case.
The true irony was that it in a way, these sorts of things were almost more debasing to me than to her. I pride myself on being so outlandish and outrageous that normal people don’t know how to deal with me--but this girl, without realizing what she was doing, was flipping it on me. She was beating me at my own game. No matter what I did, she wanted more. If I spanked her, she wanted to be spanked until her ass was raw. If I spanked her ass till my hand prints were plastered all over it, she wanted to me to spank her till she bled. If I called her a “bitch” during sex, she wanted to be called a “whore.” If I called her a “whore,” she wanted to be called a “filthy cunt whore.” I’m literally a professional at humiliating and debasing people, but this girl was absorbing my entire repertoire and then coming back and asking for seconds.
She was like Tyler Durden in Fight Club, in the scene with he lets the mobster beat him up after catching them using his bar basement for weekly fights. Tyler just lets the guy beat his ass. The mobster hits him and hits him--dropping fist after fist right on his face--but Tyler gets up, covered in blood, and laughs at him. That is so fucking demoralizing. When someone takes your absolute best shots and, instead of retaliating, simply gets back up and asks for more—what the fuck do you do then? That WAS my best shot!
This girl’s appetite for pain and degradation was outstripping my ability to hurt and humiliate her, but I refused to let her beat me. It wasn’t even about the sex or the experimentation anymore (and it was never about the relationship, because aside from the freaky sex this girl was basically worthless). No, for me it was about seeing who’s limits we could reach first. I HAD to get her to blink. Tyler Durden isn’t having Fight Club in MY basement, goddamnit.
I started browsing S&M websites, emailing my friends asking for suggestions and even consulting dominatrixes for ideas. I was about to tap out, when one night it all came to a head.
Like every other time she came over, Jill showed up ready for abuse. I met her at the door, pulled her by the hair into my place (she loved that) and started forcing myself on her (another of her favorites; believe me, this is not my normal way of greeting people).
As I was ripping her blouse off, I realized I had to drop the kids off at the pool, so I was about to excuse myself to take a dump, and then it came to me--something that had to be too much for her.
I took her by the hand into my bathroom, dropped my pants, sat on the toilet, pointed to my dick and looked up at her: “Start sucking.”
Now, this has GOT to be the limit. There is no way this girl is going to give me head while I drop a fucking deuce. No way. NO girl would do this. NO FUCKING WAY.
What did she do? Say no? Leave in disgust? Storm out of my apartment in a rage? Nein, fraulein.
Without a moments hesitation, she went right to work. Just when I thought I had won the race to the bottom with this girl, I was proven wrong. Again.
How absurd is my life? Picture yourself in this situation: Sitting on a toilet in a relatively small residential bathroom, pushing feces out of your ass, with a girl on her knees in front of you, still fresh from work in her nice business casual blouse and linen pantsuit, lips wrapped around your cock, working it like a runaway. What would you do? Is there some sort of etiquette for this?
I started pushing harder. I didn’t care if I popped a blood vessel in my head and died on the toilet from an aneurysm like Elvis, I was determined to get her to quit. It was at this point I paused and thought to myself, “I bet this will be the only time in my life where I desperately wish for a disgusting flood of diarrhea.”
The first turd (sadly, it was solid) plopped loudly into the toilet. No reaction. Nothing but continued enthusiasm for my cock.
The second turd…nothing. It was like she was just giving a normal blowjob. I kinda leaned back in the seat so the odor would have more room to waft up into her nostrils.
The third turd…she started to hit her stride, really working her hand on the shaft and slurping the head.
The fourth turd…aren’t her knees at least hurting? This is a tile floor.
I pushed and pushed and pushed until I was on the brink of giving myself hemorrhoids when my colon finally just gave up, completely devoid anymore fecal matter…and Jill was still going strong. No matter how bad the smell got, nor how loud I grunted, nor how disgusting the noises my ass made were, she would not stop. Nose full of fart, mouth full of cock, she never even paused. I don’t know how she kept breathing. I damn near choked from the smell and I was a full two feet further above the poop than she was.
As I sat there on the almost uncomfortably warm toilet seat, unwiped, smelling my own shit, my ass sweating and falling asleep at the same time--about to come because she was so good she could bring me to orgasm in a coma--I gave up.
Fuck it. If I can beat her, choke her, shove things into her ass and get incredible head on the toilet, and STILL not find her limits, then she wins. I can’t go any further.
Many of you may be thinking, “Dude, there are tons of things you could have done worse than that. Why not a Cleveland Steamer?,” etc, etc.
That is a legitimate question, but even I have my limits. I’m not Chuck Berry and I’m not crossing into the world of defecation for sexual gratification. I know it turns some people on to take a dump or piss on other people, but I’m sorry, that shit is just out of bounds for me…literally.
I mean, I was willing to race her to my bottom, but not the bottom. I was not willing to go beyond things that I was comfortable with. The fact that she EAGERLY sucked me off on a toilet seat as I took a dump really sent it home--this girl meant business. It almost makes my skin crawl thinking about what I would have had to do to hear a “No” out of her. Yeah, I could have brought a dog in and asked her to fellate it, but for fuck’s sake--what if she said yes? Then what do I do? Watch her suck off a Dalmatian while I wait my turn? Hit it from behind as she slobs on Fido’s bone? Thank you, but no.
I honestly thought I was beat. I even got a little depressed, and started moping around south Florida, unsure what to do next. But in a stroke of amazing Tucker Luck, I broke her totally by accident, in a way I never would have imagined.
Three days later, she sat me down at dinner and said, in a very somber serious tone:
“Tucker, you need to get serious with me, or we can’t keep seeing each other. It is humiliating to me that I am seeing a man that my friends know is also seeing other women.”
I didn’t even know what to say. I really didn’t. I was totally stupefied by that sentence. Did this girl actually think I would seriously date her? Is this a joke? It may be a double standard and I may be an asshole, but how the fuck am I supposed to have any respect for a girl who would do the things she did? Especially with ME of all people?
At the time, I could only muster one response:
"HAHHAHHHAAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH. Wait, wait...HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA.”
She got pissed and stormed out of the restaurant.
I know I should have said something like, “You mean when I double-penetrated you with produce, that wasn’t humiliating, but what your friends think about us is?,” but I just couldn’t. I may have got her to blink first, but it was a hollow victory.
I was like that Korean boxer who “beat” Roy Jones Jr. in the ’88 Olympics. Yeah, I got the gold medal, but everyone in the world knows I didn’t really win.
