My Girlfriend Bev's Encounter With the Fattest Girl in the School
Part I
You probably remember Bev from the recent slapping contest. She's a confident blonde biker chick who's about 5'5" and 118 pounds. After winning the $100 at the slapping contest -- getting knocked out by the huge girl champion -- Bev got a call from one of the high school cheerleaders who was at the spectacle in Creedmore, Texas. The girl challenged Bev to a fight, and Bev accepted the challenge. That fight will be posted here soon. However, it wasn't until after the fight with the cheerleader that Bev told me about an incident that happened at a football game a year earlier.
The fight occurred shortly after school started in August. At the time, Bev had gotten mixed up with the wrong group of bikers and, consequently, ended up making some drug drops around town. She regretted the decision but ended up learning the hard way that nothing good ever comes from such misdeeds.
Bev and her friend Paula were making their drop at Marlow High School, which is one of the roughest schools in Southwest Ohio. For starters, though the school is in a rural area, it boasts of many girls' sports championships. That's because many of the girls who attend the school are of solid German stock, which makes them both strong and formidable. In fact, I once subbed at the school, and even at 5'10," was shorter than half the girls.
On this particular evening, Marlow was playing Springfield High School in football. The boys were getting their asses kicked, which was par for the course. Girls' sports ruled at Marlow. About nine o'clock, Bev's old man asked her to make a drug drop at Marlow. Shortly after she and Paula arrived, some girls spotted the duo in the parking lot and ended up calling their friend LuLu.
LuLu was this huge Somoan girl who weighed about 400 pounds -- with arms the size of most women's legs. She was also 6'6" and stronger than an ox, and she was the girl's state shot put champion. When Lulu got word that two biker chicks were coming to her school to bring drugs, she went beserk. She immediately made plans to humiliate the two women, hoping to dissuade them from ever coming back to Marlow ever again. This story has two parts. And if you think LuLu's actions in part I are bad, wait until part II.
Let's head to the action now as Bev, who has just side-kicked Lulu in the gut with her cowboy boot (a futile attempt after five years of Tae bo), prepares for the girl's brutal retaliation. (As always, the girls in this story are at least 18. Bev is about 30 here, if I remember correctly.)
THUMP!
“Ohhhhh,” Bev cried, as her forehead bounced off the side of the stall. She staggered a couple seconds and had just turned around, when a bone- jarring backhand from Lulu caught her across the jaw.
CUSSSHHHH! The blow instantly knocked her to her stomach.
The tall, hefty girl stared down at the slim blonde who was clad in tight Levi’s, silver-shielded belt and a pink bra top. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth onto the tiles of the restroom floor, as she lay there unconscious on the side of her face—palms down, one wrist bearing a pink cast, and the heels of her cowboy boots cocked outward.
The beefy girl turned to face the other blonde (Paula), who just stood there in her tight jeans—mouth agape on her pretty face, her studded bellow button peering just above her silver Harley Davidson belt buckle.
“Still clear?” Lulu asked, voice a tad deep, still eying the biker chick. Three other girls stood behind her. The one near the door pushed it open a tad more and peeked outside, where eight other girls in shorts and jeans had formed a mock line—all apparently anxious to use the can.
“Yeah, there aren’t any teachers around. Just knock her the fuck out. She deserves it.”
The third quarter of the football game was now five minutes old. Fans who had taken a break at half-time were now heading back to the stands, some carrying drinks and snacks. The towering rows of lights surrounding the field pierced the sultry August air with funnels of illumination. Percussions thudded. Trumpets blared.
The huge girl had just entered the restroom after one of the girls called her on her cell phone. Two Marlow girls had seen the biker chicks in the front parking lot fifteen minutes ago. The two blondes, both slim and in their thirties, had then been lured into the girls’ restroom.
With their mouths gaped and unable to utter a word, they had gawked at the huge high school girl as she waddled forward—mounds of flesh jiggling, her butt cheeks bulging from beneath her black shorts. The biker chicks soon found themselves with their backs against the stall as the girl threatened to kick their asses if they ever showed up at the high school again. It was then that the one hundred fifteen-pound nymph (Bev)—the one now helplessly sprawled on the floor—kicked the big girl in the stomach with the heel of her boot.
The blow stung for a few seconds, but the mountain of blubber on her belly absorbed the brunt of the attack. Seconds later, she landed a crushing blow with the back of her hand, mindless of the woman's broken wrist. The second blow leveled Bev. The blonde still lay there on the floor—blood now clotted on her mouth, a crescent bruise and gash pasted beneath her right eye.
The girl looked down at the woman on the floor, then back at the other one (Paula). The blonde raised her hands in an act of surrender and took a step back. The average-sized eighth grade girl could’ve kicked either of these biker chicks’ asses, the girl thought. They couldn’t have been more than 5’5” or 5’6”, with their model good looks and perfect little bodies. She hated people like that. She clinched her fists and glared at the woman.
“Please, just let us go.” Paula stood several feet in front of the stall door. She wore a sleeveless white shirt. A blue bandana was wrapped around her forehead. The girl took another step toward the woman. The biker chick thrust her hands out—eyes widened.
“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”
Paula's throat churned as she stared up at the girl. Any attempt at fighting her was futile -- or a sure death sentence. She was at least six-five with hips stretched more than four feet across. Her oversized, puffy face, large deep-set eyes and stringy black hair had the blonde shaking in her boots. The biker chick shot a glance past the girl, stepped to her left and tried to bolt around her.
“Get over here, bitch,” Lulu shouted, as she reached out and grabbed the blonde’s thin upper arm. The woman winced as the heavy girl squeezed her arm harder and clutched the back of her neck. She tried to resist but lost the struggle and soon found herself looking up at the ceiling, the pressure on her neck mounting, as the girl walked her across the restroom floor and yanked her in front of the middle mirror. “Try that again and I’ll put you on the floor with your friend.” The girl shoved the woman against the sink. She then reached out, grabbed the hapless blonde from behind and slapped a full nelson on her.
Paula, who felt as if she were engulfed by a python, closed her eyes and moaned as the girl lifted her off her boots and pulled back on her arms, balancing the slim woman on her large belly. She deliberately held the woman in the agonizing position, pushing down on the back of her head.
“Look in the mirror!” the girl shouted. Paula grimaced with her eyes closed. “I said, look in the mirror.” The pretty blonde opened her eyes and stared at her reflection, mouth taut and eyes squinted -- a prominent camel toe peeking through her tight Levi's. “What do you see, huh? What do you see?”
“I don’t know,” said the blonde, legs squirming and dangling in mid-air, mouth agape from seeing her puny little body enveloped by the behemoth.
“You know what I see? I see a drug-dealing little maggot. Am I right?” She pushed down on the woman’s head, almost forcing her chin to her upper chest. “Am I right, you little wimp? Huh?”
“Yes,” the biker chick garbled. “Oh please. You’re hurting me. Somebody help me!”
The girl chuckled. “Nobody here gives a shit about you. And nobody sure as hell can hear you.” She dropped the woman on her boots and shoved her stomach-first against the sink. Paula's belt buckle clanked against the porcelain as she hunkered over the lavatory—face flushed. She held her abdomen, just above the belt buckle, her narrow back heaving from hysteria and exhaustion.
The girl grabbed her elbow and flung her around to face her. She pointed her finger inches from the blonde’s nose. The woman’s lower jaw dropped. The finger was so close to the tip of her nose, she stared at it cross-eyed—jaw slackened and her head canted upward.
“This is a warning to you and all of your slut friends. Stay away from the high school with your drugs if you know what’s good for ya. The next time I catch one of you biker chicks around here, I’m not gonna be responsible for what I do. Understood?”
Paula’s head hunkered. A thick palm soon swept upward and swallowed the bottom half of the biker chick’s face, forcing her head back. The force exerted from behind the meaty paw mashed the blonde’s buttocks against the sink. With the flesh between the girl’s thumb and forefinger pressed against her nostrils—and long, thick digits crushing both cheekbones—the woman widened her blue eyes and let out a shriek.
“No more dealing, understood?”
“Uh-huh.” The woman gasped and whimpered as the tall, fat girl removed her hand from her mouth. Thick, red streaks soon appeared across Paula’s cheeks as she leaned against the sink. Her head lolled—arms hanging limply at her sides. She then she looked up and gazed ahead in a drunken stupor, mouth open. A wet spot appeared at the crotch of her jeans.
“Bitch just pissed herself,” one of the teens said. She'd been standing there, along with a dozen others, watching Lulu pounce on the two biker women.
The girls laughed, except for the giant teen. She glared at the woman for several seconds, then waved a red-haired girl forward. “Get this slime ball out of my sight before I rip her apart and put her through a wall. I’ve still got this other trash to pick up off the floor.”
Paula held her hands out and cowered as a girl about her size approached, grabbed her arm forcefully and walked her to the restroom door. She opened the door and shoved the biker chick outside.
“Look out, bitch!” said a girl at the front of the line. She shoved Paula against the door as it was closing. There was another loud thump. Then a punch came out of nowhere and struck Paula's jaw. She dropped to the concrete like a dead fish.
The giant Lulu waddled forward and kicked Bev in the leg. Blood seeped from her nose.
“Get up!” The woman didn’t respond so she reached down and tried to pull her up by her rear pocket and belt. That’s when she discovered the four-hundred dollars cash in her Levi’s.
The girl reached down, pulled the money out of the Bev’s jeans and stuffed it in her pocket. She then grabbed the unconscious biker chick by her armpits and hoisted her up from behind. The woman’s head lolloped above her limp body. She was still out cold.
“Time to wake up, bitch!” said Lulu. She shook Bev but she didn’t respond. “Okay, I’ll wake you up.”
The girl jerked the blonde around, lifted her a couple feet off the floor and slammed her against the stall. The back of the Bev’s head bounced off the stall’s light blue surface. The heels of her cowboy boots then clopped onto the tiles, slipped forward and she landed on her ass. She slumped over to her right on the floor and screamed as the intense pain surged through her broken wrist. Then she passed out.
“Still clear?” said the girl, starring at the listless puddle of flesh, leather and denim that lay in front of her. The woman’s legs were scissored—with one hand stretched behind her and the other one resting on the left knee of her jeans. Her blonde head lay on the tile six inches from the girl’s size fifteen Adidas’s. One step forward and it would be all over for the biker chick. It was tempting—very tempting.
“The coast is clear,” said the red head.
“Okay, I’ve got to wake this loser up from her coma. That last blow was just a backhand, for crying out loud.”
“With four hundred pounds behind it,” said the red-haired girl. The other girls laughed, but the mammoth just glared at the unconscious Bev, as if she were her appointed executioner.
Lulu smirked as she picked Bev off the floor and dragged her inside the stall. She had a difficult time bending down because of her bulk but managed to drop Bev on her knees. She then slapped the back of the Bev;s head, clutched it in her huge mitt and dunked her head in the toilet. Bev came to gasping for air. “You awake yet, bitch?” The girl dunked her again. “How ‘bout now?” The blonde gasped and emitted a croaking sound. The girl lifted the woman off the floor, flipped her around and plopped her down on the toilet seat.
Bev’s lips quivered as she looked up at the girl—her hair and pink bra top soaked, small nipples peaking through it and water dripping from her face.
"You hurt my wrist."
"Awww." said Lulu. That's too bad, biker cxnt, but you attacked me first."
“Please, don’t hurt me,” said Bev. "Please." She raised her hands, open cast exposed, elbows pressed against the sides of her waist. Both arms then dropped down and flopped against the sides of the toilet. Her eyes rolled as her head flopped back against the water tank.
The toilet water had rinsed most of the blood off Bev’s mouth. But her bottom lip was puffed up and one eye was almost blackened shut. A smidgeon of blood welled up inside the gash under her eye.
“What’s your name?” said Lulu.
“Uhhhh . . . Ba . . . Ba,” said the blonde. Her slender chest heaved as she leaned against the chrome pipe of the toilet—legs splayed. The other three girls peered inside the stall behind the girl. But they couldn’t see much because of the girl’s girth, which nearly filled the width of the unit. They appeared to be frightened for the woman as the girl widened her stance, leaned forward and placed her hands on her meaty thighs.
“Your name is Ba . . . Ba?” She chuckled without smiling. “What are you, a lamb?” The biker chick’s throat churned when she looked up at the girl.
“Ba . . . Bev,” she said. Bev lowered her head and looked at her outstretched legs as Lulu straddled one of them and moved closer. The girl then reached out, lifted Bev’s chin and leaned closer. She stuck her oversized face six inches from Bev’s thin oval one.
“Well, Bev, as I told your friend a few minutes ago, I better not catch you biker sluts around here again. The next time you won’t be walking out of here. Do I make myself clear?”
“Uh-huh,” Bev whispered. It was all she could muster in response as she struggled for air—more out of fear of getting beaten to death than having her head plunged back in the toilet. She stiffened. “Please. I beg you. Just let me go. I give.” She closed her eyes and pursed her lips, holding her broken wrist close to her waist. Her face and back were killing her as was most of the rest of her.
“The door’s open.” The girl yanked Bev to her feet by her broken right wrist," eliciting a piercing scream from the blonde. Bev winced as the pain lanced from her hand to her shoulder. God, the girl was ruthless.
Lulu smirked as she backed up and made room for Bev to exit. But no sooner had Bev taken the first step, Lulu lunged forward with her immense belly, rammed Bev in the shoulder and knocked her against the inside wall of the stall.
Bev raised her hands to avoid hitting her head on the stall, but caught the brunt of the force with her broken wrist. She again screamed as she fell to her knees.
"Hurt's, don't it?" Lulu said. She laughed. "Now, let's see if you can stay on your two feet this time, biker slut, and walk out of here.
Now sobbing, Bev got to her feet -- with her broken wrist pressed against her tits -- made her way out of the stall, then tottered across the floor, nearly collapsing twice. The other girls laughed, but Bev didn't dare look back.
"Remember what I said, cxnt!” Lulu said, just as Bev opened the restroom door and looked back. Despite the pain pulsating from her face and wrist, a more palpable shiver jolted through her as she beheld the girl’s ominous stare.
"Go, on, biker cxnt," shouted Lulu.
"Get the fuck out of here!"Bev fell over Paula on the way out the door. She helped her get to her feet amid the laugher from the teen girls in line to use the can.
"Looks like Lulu roughed you up pretty badly, slut," one girl said.
"Fuckin' biker chick," said another. "You wanna fight?"
Bev ignored her as she and Paula stumbled off in each others arms; the teen girls continued laughing at them and unleashing a spate of invectives.
"That'll teach you to sell drugs to high school kids."
"Oh, God!" said Bev, as she climbed in her car and shut the door. "That girl was huge. I've never seen such a fat high school girl, and she knocked my ass out. And she was vicious as hell. She scared the shit out of me. She messed up my broken wrist."
"Yeah," said Paula, "and she could've killed us." Bev's friend sighed. "I can't do this anymore, Bev. I've got to get away from this biker gang."
"I'm with you."
"Oooooooo," Bev cried, as she fired the engine up and tried to turn the steereing wheel. "My wrist."
"Here, let me drive," said Paula.
Part II to follow
A year has passed since the confrontation with Lulu -- and Bev has since been pummeled by another heifer in a slapping contest. Tonight, bearing bruises, cuts and scraped boots, she's about to tell me what happened in her fight with the high school cheerleader. (Coming soon) She's due to win a fight sooner or later . . . or is she?
Until next time.
BMR
