Continuing the adventures of Melissa Windeyer, a collaboration between the Scribbler and myself.REDUX
“I asked around. No one’s seen you in any of your usual haunts.” The bitch was trying to taunt me.
It was true of course. I hadn’t been to Chatro or any of the other bars since that horrid night when Colleen had so cruelly and deceitfully flipped me. Me! Melissa Windeyer! “Is that so, Vivian?” I fixed my smouldering grey eyes in a steely stare at my questioner, hoping to make her back down. I couldn’t let her ask why I hadn’t been to any of those places. I couldn’t trust my own face not to give me away. I had to put her off balance. “So what’s this place?” I tossed my head, knowing it would make my long glossy dark brown hair shimmer in the light. Let the nosy bitch see just how gorgeous I was.
“The Loft.”
“Quite so, Vivian.” I said, feigning strained patience. I took a deep breath and sighed languidly as though bored by the conversation, but I knew that the deep inhalation made my bosom swell inside the tight white bodice of my top. Once more my top was carefully chosen to show off my sexy figure, with the white bodice above a tightly fitting leather corset that emphasised my narrow waist, my smooth yet sensually curving tummy. “I come here often. Many friends greeted me when I arrived.”
As always, I had arrived late, maximising the effectiveness of my entrance so that all heads turned when I came in – and they had. Everyone had stopped to look at me – women whose jealous glances told me they knew they just didn't rate besides my sexy body, men whose appraising looks I would parlay into free drinks, perhaps a free meal and perhaps – who knew – even more. I rested a hand on my hip, which was encased in a clinging red mini skirt that flared out below my hips. It matched my cardigan – Chi town is cold in November – which hung unbuttoned and open from my shoulders. My almost knee-high boots shone glossily in the light. Once again I'd worn the right outfit and made the right entrance at precisely the right time.
“And I go here often don't I Vivian?” I continued as I stepped forward toward her. I'd fought Vivian at Chatro. She was a tall, willowy, skinny blonde weakling – all skin and bone. I'd had my way with her before, though not at The Loft. It wasn't that kind of place but it was a popular hangout for those who couldn’t take the heat at Chatro or one of the other D/s bars.
Most importantly, none of the regulars here – Vivian included – were likely to have heard about what had happened to me. Vivian wouldn’t know how I'd been flipped and slutted – humiliated in front of the whole crowd. I tried not to think about it or I knew my face would go as red as my outfit.
I looked at Vivian coldly. Her eyes were already uncertain – she kept glancing down at her feet. I smiled to myself. She'd be easy meat. I wouldn't have to fight her. Of course, I'd beat her if I did, but I didn't want to go to the trouble. Besides, she might get a lucky break and then I'd really have to exert myself. If people saw I had trouble subduing a weakling like Vivian, they might get the wrong idea. I didn’t want that – not tonight.
“Yes but the Loft is no D/s club,” persisted Vivian. “It’s not like Chatro.”
There she was again, dragging drab facts into her argument. How boring. How mundane. “I know. What’s wrong with a little variety in my social life?” I turned up the intensity of my gaze. Let her squirm. Let them all see her squirm.
“Face it Melissa…you're here because you can't face Chatro and the Scene anymore.”
“What?” I paled. Did she know what had happened to me? My heart immediately started pounding in my chest. That would be a disaster.
“You're finished as a Domme.” She smiled vindictively.
“How dare you?” I gasped, taking a step toward her. “Ouch!” I stopped in my tracks, my eyes wide. I could hardly believe it. Vivian had smacked my face!
I shoved her hand away violently, then pushed my own up in the air between us. “Trial of strength…or are you afraid?”
She put hers up too – she had no choice if she didn’t want to look like a complete fool in front of the whole bar. Of course, nor did I, if I didn’t want to lose whatever remained of my dignity by letting this weak bitch top me. We grappled. No way was the bitch going to slap my face and get away with it.
I stamped on her foot. She yelped and backed away, limping. I went after her, trying to slap her over the ears. “Ow! OWWW!” She smacked me again, hard slaps that landed on both my cheeks in quick succession. My face stinging, I scurried back to regroup. Of course this little bitch was going to pay for her presumption, but I needed time to compose myself.
Vivian didn't give me that time though. She kept after me, slapping me hard, repeatedly. I tried my best to defend myself from the rain of slaps that, despite everything I could do, kept falling on my face and shoulders.
I dodged, crouching low, and the next flurry of blows passed over my head. Then, as she adjusted her aim, I stuck my hand under her skirt and clawed her thighs. I felt the skin break a split second before I heard Vivian's shriek of pain. She froze and I seized the moment, slamming my head forward and upward into her tummy. She groaned and staggered back, holding her middle. I straightened up and, glancing over her shoulder, caught Arthur Wellesley’s eye. He smiled and blew me a kiss. I wanted to smile back but I was just a little preoccupied with Vivian.
She stood there, chest heaving, pathetic little tits rising and falling as she tried to get her breath back. I attacked, slapping hard at her face and upper body. She retaliated and for a moment we traded slap for slap. Then I managed to grab her wrist and twisted it inward. She gave a shriek of pain and spun round as I tried to force it up behind her back into a hammerlock. I shoved hard, but then leapt back as her left leg lashed out in a mule kick, making me let go of her arm. She turned to face me, snarling with anger.
I lunged forward and grabbed her top. I yanked it forward, bending her at the waist, pulling her onto my upraised knee, pounding her already hurt tummy. I fended off her slaps, grabbing and then twisting her wrist again. With one hand still holding her top, the other her wrist, I spun her into a nearby table. She squealed as she hit and lost her balance, sprawling backwards on her back across the smooth surface.
I closed in to finish her off. Another easy victim. This was just what I deserved – and secretly what I needed to restore my confidence and my reputation.
“Ooofff!!!” The dirty bitch had thrust her foot into my tummy! My eyes opened wide, as did my mouth and I gasped, staggering back. It was lucky she wasn’t wearing stilettos or the bitch would have speared me.
Again I needed to recover my composure.. Again Vivian didn't give me time. She came at me again, this time with her fists up, firing punches. I blocked some. I couldn’t 'block them all. She was too fast. I ducked, I weaved. I managed to avoid a lot of the blows but she was hammering me. I felt the panic begin to well up inside me. This was not how it was meant to be! She wearing me down – wearing me out. I was panting for breath, gasping with pain at each blow that landed. I scurried back. She strode forward.
I checked her attack by kicking her hard in the outside of her thigh. She stumbled, halting her advance. We broke apart. I needed to recover but again she came after me, swinging punches. I dodged her attack, and realised with relief that she was limping. I could move faster than her. I could run rings round her.
I kicked at her knee. I hit. The way she cried out told me she was hurt.. I stepped up to her, paying her back now with punches of my own, aiming for her midsection. She retreated but now it my turn to pursue her. I tried to grab at her but she slipped out of my grasp. I tried again, and again she slipped away.
I needed to finish her. People were looking on, and I could see the looks on their faces. No one had expected I'd have as much trouble with Vivian as this. People expected more of me. They had a right to – I was Melissa Windeyer! Vivian was a nothing.
This time I resolved not to miss. I seized her arm in both hands and yanked her toward me. She staggered, almost falling. I yanked again, this time seizing a fistful of her hair. Again I spun her round and, holding her arm and hair – once, then twice, growing faster as we went. I giggled. I was going to hurl the silly weakling over a table.
“Ugggh!!!” She had mule kicked me again. Her foot sank into my tummy. If I’d not been wearing my corset she’d have winded me. As it was, she forced me to let go. I backed away, gasping, sucking air into my lungs.
She turned more quickly than I thought possible. The bitch gave me no recovery time. She was on me. She forced me back. It was me whose butt hit the table. Hot fear surged through me. This nightmare was so wrong. She forced me down on my back, slamming me into the table. I kicked out but she avoided it easily. She reared up, bringing her fists, locked together, down onto my tummy. It hurt – a lot – but again I blessed my corset for protecting me. I rolled rapidly, jabbing my left leg into the side of her body. I locked my legs around her and squeezed.
I heard her whimper – a sound of panic as she realised the predicament she was in. Elation replaced my fear. Now, at last, I had her! I poured on the pressure with my legs, squeezing the breath out of her skinny, weak body.
Her face darkened. She tried to pound my tummy. I fended her off as I clenched my teeth, putting all my strength into crushing her midsection. She got through my defenses and slammed her elbow into my tummy. I gripped even tighter. Vivian’s face grew dearker still as I forced the air from her lungs. I was crushing her. She had no answer.
I smirked as she stopped trying to pound my tummy and pulled back, apparently trying to get away, pulling at my thighs. I had her on the run! I was going to win! Then, as my back slid across the table, I realised that she wasn’t trying to pull my legs from around her waist – she was pulling me with her as she backed away! I was being dragged off the table. Oh God, this couldn’t happen! I had to release her or I’d hit the floor, probably on my head, probably hard enough to knock me out!
I let go with my legs and the sudden release sent her stumbling backwards a few steps. She hadn’t expected me to wise up and let go. As I got to my feet though, she attacked again but she was so focused on getting to me that she ignored my raised knee. Again I outsmarted her – brains over brawn. She hurled herself right onto my knee.
She groaned, hunching over, grabbing her tummy. I attacked with some hard punches. She retreated, puffing. My body scissors had squeezed the air from her lungs, I didn’t let up. She tried to dodge me but couldn't. I was there before her with a fist hammering her as she tried to escape to the side. I shepherded her to the wall. Her eyes bugged wide with fear, her mouth opened in a perfect O of surprise and horror as she realised she had nowhere to go. I'd outsmarted her and she knew it. She knew that, at last, I’d have my victory.
I pounded her tummy again with my knee. She babbled something. I didn't care to listen to her pathetic pleas for mercy. Not yet. I'd destroy her first. I slammed my knee into her tummy again, then a third time. She sank to the floor, first on all fours, then toppled over sideways. She was finished.
I left her there, sobbing, gasping for breath, and strolled towards the cloakroom, careful to look as though I was just taking my time. No one was going to know that I barely had the strength to stay on my feet. No one was going to know how much pain I was in, how much this fight had hurt me. No one was going to know that that nothing, that fluff ball Vivian, had come close to beating me.
“Going already, Melissa?” Brooke Harris asked maliciously.
“Maybe.” I replied nonchalantly. “Why would I stay?” I shuddered delicately and smiled. “I might have to clean up that mess.” I nodded over my shoulder to where a couple of women were helping Vivian to her feet. “Anyway, what's it to you? Afraid I'll steal your man if I stay?” I looked past her to the guy she was with. I grinned and crooked my finger, beckoning him. “Did you like what you saw?”
He stepped towards me, smiling. "What’s not to like…two sexy babes going at each other?”
I returned his smile, batted my eyelids a little and looked away. “It was a good battle. Vivian gave me a few scares along the way. Nothing that I couldn't deal with, of course.”
“You were splendid!” he said enthusiastically. “I was cheering for you. You always came back despite whatever she dished out.”
I laid my hand on his arm for a moment. “Darling Brooke couldn't have done that. I’m sure she’s got – many good qualities – but somehow I doubt that stamina is one of them.” I smiled. “Staying power is such a good thing in a fight…and for…” I held my breath a moment, until I felt my cheeks redden a little as if I were blushing, “...well…other things too.” I gave his arm a gentle, momentary squeeze.
He chuckled. “Melissa, I'm sure your staying power extends far beyond fighting.” He winked. “Let me buy you a drink.”
I was almost tempted to let him, but one look at Brooke's thundercloud face made me rethink. She was about to explode with rage. I suppressed a shudder. The thought of what she might do to me – now that I was tired and sore from my fight with Vivian –didn’t bear thinking about. I'd be more than a match for her normally, but the scheming minx would have the advantage of being fresh if she took me on now. Anyway, it was always good to leave a man wanting more.
I smiled and stroked his forearm. “And leave poor Brooke alone? I don't think that would be quite the right thing to do…and I’m sure a gentleman like you would always want to do the right thing.” I lent forward and kissed his cheek. “Perhaps later when you're not so....occupied,” I breathed softly so that only he could hear.
I sashayed off towards the bar. I'd changed my mind, I wasn't going yet. I'd show everyone that I – Melissa Windeyer – was back, that no one was in my class. “
Oh Ms Melissa! You were so strong! You beat her so convincingly!” I turned to the gushing little blonde fluff ball at the bar to my left. She was Ami, one of the silk stocking girls. As my eyes fell on her, she blushed and dropped her gaze. “Oh… Ms Melissa!”
I graced her with a smile. “Thank you, sweetie. Now run and get me a drink please.” I blew her a kiss and she dashed off obediently.
A hand slid round my slim waist, tuning me around gently. I smiled to myself – I knew whose hand it was, even without looking. I knew Arthur Wellesley wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off me for long. I sighed languidly, enjoying his touch. A man – especially a hot, rich one like Arthur – was just what I needed right now.
Then he went and spoiled it. “You had to exert yourself there, Melissa. She gave you a hard time here and there. Still, you won in the end.”
I drew my breath in sharply, annoyed. “What do you mean, Arthur?” I slapped his wrist. “The result was never in doubt. Vivian was never going to be a match for me.” I stepped back half a pace, knowing that as I did, I'd rub my hip against the front of his trousers. Let him get a taste of what he was about to be missing. How dare he doubt me?
Ami arrived with my drink. Turning to collect it from her and to bestow a smile of thanks upon her, gave me an opportunity to – as though by accident – grind my pert butt into his crotch even harder. “Oh I'm sorry, Arthur, I didn't realise you were standing so close,” I apologized, staring at him through my eyelashes. I suppressed a giggle at the thought of the bulge I’d felt in his pants.
“Let's sit down for a few moments.” I led him to an empty table. It was probably empty because all of the chairs except one had been taken by people at other tables. “Oh my…I guess I'll just have to sit in your lap.” He didn’t object, so I did so. “Oh Arthur,” I sighed, wriggling in his lap, “I’m so sore, so uncomfortable.” I wriggled some more, giving him a lap dance without music. I knew how uncomfortable he was becoming, from how his stuttering attempts to talk always ended in gasps and by the little grunts he couldn't help emitting as I teased him. Good. Let him get all hot and bothered. Arthur Wellesley wasn’t getting any honey from me tonight.
I sensed he was about to ask me to leave with him, so I feigned a glance at my watch. “Oh dear! Is that the time? I really must go. I’ve got an early morning. I’m
so sorry Arthur.” I breathed the word ‘so’ lingeringly in his ear as I gave him a kiss and one last wriggle.
I sauntered off. It's always good to leave a guy like Arthur desperately wanting more. If he learned to watch his tongue, he’d get to use it in some very pleasurable ways, next time we met. I smiled to myself at the thought as I walked out of the bar.
Melissa first appeared in Hubris
