The story I am about to share must be kept in the strictest of confidence. Please be discreet, as this story was given to me as part of a confidential therapy session. I have a client who came to me to discuss his relationship with his mother. They had always been close and he felt his attachment with his mother was driving a wedge between him and his wife, who had accused him of having an Oedipus complex. After numerous sessions, I was able to pinpoint the root of his unusually deep affection for his mother. It was related to an incident that happened in his childhood. As part of the therapeutic process, I had him write a comprehensive description of the account. Initially, I thought it would be difficult for him to recount the incident that happened so many years ago. But he said the event had been etched in his mind and he had little trouble recalling every minute detail. In fact, after some discussion, he seemed eager to share the story. The following is what he wrote:
My mom kicked my dad out of the house when I was 8. He was a spineless wimp, who my mom bossed around mercilessly. She had little respect for him and he always seemed intimidated by my mom. I did not see for him for several years, until one day, he showed up wanting to see me. He meekly demanded visitation rights, which my mom refused. I remember watching him tremble as he asked my mom why not. Dad, who looked a lot like Barney Fife, was several inches shorter and at least 20 lbs. lighter than my mom. My raven-haired mom had a shapely, strong body that seemed to be both intimidating and attractive to most men. After my mom threatened to toss him out on his ass, he timidly slinked out of the house with his tail between his legs.
I had wondered why my dad had suddenly appeared willing to face my mom when he had avoided her at all costs for years. The mystery was revealed when the doorbell rang a few hours later. When I answered the door it was a woman named Crystal who claimed to be my stepmom.
"Where's that bitch that you call mom?" She said, not at all friendly.
"Who are you calling a bitch?" I asked, suddenly so mad I couldn't see straight, "You're the only bitch in this house."
"You disrespectful brat. What you need is a little discipline and I aim to see you get it."
Then mom walked into the room. She was getting ready for bed and was wearing a white tank top and red pajama pants. Her pretty face was flushed with anger and her huge breasts were heaving excitedly. I didn't bother introducing her to Crystal, it was obvious she had heard our conversation.
"Bart, go to your room while Crystal and I have a talk," Mom said.
I had never seen her so angry before and knew better than to argue with her. Instead of going to my room, though, I went into the hallway and peeped around the corner. Crystal had been so nasty and I wanted to see mom tell her off. As angry as my mom looked, I knew I would get my wish.
"I knew that wimp of an ex-husband of mine wouldn't have come here on his own unless someone made him," mom said, "I guess you're pulling his strings now?"
"I'm not pulling anyone's strings," Crystal hissed, "It's just only right that a boy stays with his father."
"That's not going to happen. What you need to do now is leave and I better not ever catch you talking to my son like that again."
"I'm not going anywhere until we settle a few things."
"The only thing we have to settle is how you're going to leave. On your own two feet or being thrown out the door."
"Oh, is that so. Well, listen, you fat cow, you will find I'm not as easy to intimidate as my husband."
As the two women talked they inched closer together. My heart began beating faster and faster as I realized my mom was about to get into a fight. Wearing a t-shirt and jeans tucked into black boots, Crystal was better dressed for a fight. Still, my mom had a clear size advantage. Even barefooted, my mom stood 3 inches over Crystal and outweighed the redhead by 30-40 lbs. My mom looked so much more impressive than Crystal. The snug tank top and pajamas showed off her huge breasts and shapely hips and thighs. Although she did not work out, she had a strong, well-formed body. Most women would have been intimidated by her, but Crystal was not.
"This is your last warning," mom said, "Leave!"
"Or what?"
That was the wrong answer. Mom responded her by grabbing the front of her shirt, dragging her through the door, and giving her a toss off the porch. From my vantage point, I could see her land with a thud on the lawn. She had a comical look on her face as she sat in a daze. I don't think she believed that mom was really as strong as she looked. Mom stood there, with her hands on her hips, looking like a sexy superhero.
"That's what," Mom replied, "Now leave before you get hurt."
"YOU FUCKING BITCH!" Crystal screamed suddenly, as she stood to her feet and charged my mom. She slammed her shoulder into mom's stomach and the two fell into the living room. My mom looked stunned as Crystal mounted her waist and began punching her pretty face. Crystal got in some good blows before my mom was able to toss her off.
Both women scrambled to their feet and began circling each other. My mom's hair was tousled and she had the makings of a black eye. I had always looked at her as an invincible superhero, with her long black hair and amazon like physique. Seeing her get roughed up gave me a queasy feeling in my stomach.
Crystal punched my mom hard on the cheek, causing her to stagger backward a few steps. She followed it up with several more solid blows that rocked my mom. Mom tried to retaliate with her own punches, but she missed badly. Desperately, she grabbed Crystal's arms and slung her into the wall. The redhead struggled to get free, but my powerful mom pinned her arms against the wall. Crystal viciously stomped on my mom's barefoot with her boot. Then she grabbed a handful of raven hair and slammed my mom's head down onto her waiting knee. Still holding her hair, Crystal slammed her head into the wall several times before slinging her onto the floor.
Even though my mom was badly dazed, she knew her best chance was her to use her superior physical strength. She reached out and grabbed Crystal's feet and pulled them out from under her, toppling the redhead. Mom climbed on top and tried to hold her down, but she was too slow and her strength was faltering. Crystal easily reversed positions and continued dominating my mom.
At this point, I came to the sudden realization that my mom wasn't going to win. I always thought my mom was the toughest, most dominant person I knew, but I had never met Crystal before. She was tougher than my mom by a mile. My mom might have been able to beat her in an arm wrestling match, but in a fight, my mom was not in Crystal's league.
I watched as Crystal continued to dismantle my mom. Besides pounding my mom with her fists, the nasty redhead also unleashed an arsenal of dirty moves. She pulled hair, pinched, clawed, bit, anything and everything to torture my poor mom. My mom quit fighting and tried to crawl away, but Crystal wouldn't let her. She grabbed my mom's shirt and ripped it to shreds exposing my braless mom's giant breasts. My mom looked up at me with a mortified expression as she was being hopelessly humiliated.
I couldn't take it anymore, so I charged Crystal and drug her off my mom. She responded by punching me in the face. I couldn't believe a woman could hit so hard. It was the hardest I had been hit in my life and I fell backward as tears came to my eyes.
Seeing me get hit motivated my mom to fight back. She came flying at Crystal with renewed energy, punching and slapping the redhead. Crystal stumbled backward, totally unprepared for the attack from my mom.
Unfortunately, my mom's punches did little damage and Crystal countered with a barrage of punches of her own. She began pummeling my mom with blow after blow, working over her body and smashing her face. Beaten into a stupor, Mom collapsed face forward, landing hard on her exposed chest. To humiliate her even more, she stripped mom of her pajama bottoms and panties, leaving her stark-naked. Even with my mom half conscious, Crystal continued her assault, kicking and stomping on her.
I was afraid of Crystal, but I knew I had to do something so I grabbed the phone and called 911.
"911 what's your emergency?"
"Please, send help! A woman is beating up my mom! Hurry, please!" I was crying so much they could barely understand me. Crystal understood me though. Knowing the police were coming, she got off mom and ran out the door.
My mom spent the next 3 days in the hospital. It turns out she wasn't the first woman Crystal had put in the hospital. In fact, the redhead was a paroled felon, who had spent several years in prison for a string of assaults. Obviously an unstable and dangerous woman with a major anger management problem, she was sent back to prison for violating her parole for the beating she gave mom. My mom may have been big and strong, but she didn't have a chance against an experienced street fighter like Crystal.
