?Take her behind the high school down by the tracks,? said Rosie, a ruthless, fat 18 year-old high school girl who was 6'3" and 415 pounds. She was part Italian and her uncle and family were rumored to have been in the mafia. "I want this to be a lesson to all biker chicks that sell drugs at this school. It's too bad but this woman's gotta pay."
"Okay," said a short, stocky girl. She grabbed the pretty blonde biker chick by the arm. The woman was about 29, 5'5" and 110 pounds, clad in tight jeans and a pink Harley Davidson shirt. "Let's go."
"Where are you taking me?" said the blonde.
"Behind the woodshed, bitch. Now, let's go."
"Get off me!" The biker woman tried to jerk the girl's arm away, but got overpowered.
"I'm not fooling around here, and neither is Rosie. I'll take you out right here. It would probably be a blessing because Rosie's going to rip you apart and beat you senseless."
It was twilight. The girl led the woman down the steep hill and through a thicket of trees, until they reached level ground. Twenty-five yards away lay the old railroad tracks, which were elevated, rusty and cracked in some places. "We'll wait here." The woman looked around. She tried to find a place to get away, but knew she wouldn't get far in cowboy boots. But she should be able to outrun a couple fat girls.
An old pickup appeared five minutes later. It leaned badly on the driver's side. The engine shut off and Rosie stepped out, immediately relieving pressure on the truck's shocks. She waddled toward the biker chick and girl. No one else around. The tracks lay near an old abandoned warehouse. A small river purled fifty yards away.
The girl grabbed the woman?s arm and walked the biker chick toward the railroad tracks. "I got her from here," said Rosie. "Get out of here and make sure nobody followed you. Trust me, you don't want to see what I do to this bitch."
"What are you going to do to me?" the blonde said. Her thin legs quivered beneath the tight jeans.
"Just take a walk with me," said Rosie. She grabbed the woman's thin right arm and walked her closer to the tracks. Rosie knew the biker chick was pathetic and skinny and that most of the girls at her high school would make minced meat of her. There was nothing to her, but she still had to beat her. That's just the way it was.
"But I don't understand," the blonde whined. "I?"
"I've been patient with you strippers and biker whores for a long time. You've been selling dope around my school for years. It's gonna stop today." The woman looked up at her. Her throat churned.
"I--"
"Just shut up. You've said your piece. Now it's time for me to say mine."
"I'll stop coming here. I'll tell the bikers . . ."
"Shut up!" Rosie grabbed the woman's arm more tightly and shoved her onto the railroad tracks. "The trains don?t come around here anymore, so don't worry your pretty little head about getting run over. But getting hit by a train may be mild compared to what I'm going to do to you." Rosie smirked, an evil glare which lit up her balloon-sized face.
"Please. I give . . . I give. You win. I'll stop coming here. Help!" Rosie approached the biker chick, her fat hips undulating like oversized sacks of mail. The blonde put her arms up in defense. "My name is Paula. I'm an exotic dancer and I have money in my jeans. I'll pay you. Please. Oh, no. Oh, God nooooo!" Rosie shot her fingers out and stabbed the woman's windpipe, shocking and knocking the breath out of her. She grabbed her throat and gagged.
"Why did you hit me?" she said, gagging and barely whispering as she held her throat.
"I'm gonna pat you down for weapons," said Rosie. "Turn your skinny ass around." The blonde turned and Rosie ran her large hands up the woman's legs, crotch and ass.
Suddenly the blonde turned around and slapped Rosie in the face. She wasn't prepared for the blow, but blocked the woman's thin arm. "Big mistake, c*nt."
Rosie grabbed the woman's thin shoulders, pulled her forward and kneed her in the stomach.
"Uhhhhhhhhhh!" The woman dropped to her knees.
"You pathetic, little bitch. I'm gonna rip your skinny ass apart for that. They'll be picking up pieces of you for the next month."
The blonde was on her knees holding her stomach. She was in agony. Rosie grabbed a tuft of her blonde mane. Without hesitation, she pulled the blonde's head back, moved closer, jerked her head forward and kneed the woman in the face. Blood spurted from the biker chick's nose, down her mouth and splashed the top part of her shirt. The blonde fell to her side, eyes glassy and still. Blood poured to the dirt.
"Get up!" Rosie shouted. The woman didn't move. "I said get your skinny ass up." She kicked the woman in the back--with a thud--then in the ass. She then grabbed her hair and pulled her to her feet. The blonde screamed. Without hesitation, Rosie socked the blonde in the gut. Before she fell, Rosie swung her arm forward and thrust the thumb-side of her hand against the woman's crotch. She punched her in the side of the head as her thin legs and body collapsed from the cxnt blow. The punch spun her around and knocked her onto her stomach.
"Women like you make me sick, making money off of kids." Rosie stomped down on the woman's ass. The woman was now holding her p*ssy through the skin-tight jeans. She moaned and writhed for thirty seconds or so, She then rolled over on her stomach and weakly reached out toward the rails.
"Uhhhhhh," the woman cried, as Rosie?s foot connected with her back. Rosie then moved to the right side of the blonde and kicked her in the side. She kicked her again . . . and then a third time. She then pulled the biker chick to her feet and told her to place her hands on top of her head. The blonde obeyed, eyes widened and face bloodied.
'This isn't a fair fight at all," she cried, spitting blood as she talked. "You're four times my size."
"You calling me fat, stripper slut?"
"No."
The biker chick glanced to her left. She then tried to turn and run, but her right boot got caught on the tracks. Rosie grabbed the back of woman's jeans and pulled her closer. She then reached into her sweat pants pocket and pulled out a pair of brass knuckles.
"This should convince you that I am not kidding around about you and the other stripper sluts staying away from here." A look of horror ran across the biker chick's face. She looked down. Rosie reached under the blonde's chin and pulled Paula's thin oval face up. She hauled back and slugged the blonde in the jaw. The blow knocked her back. The blonde was in a daze and stumbling around. Rosie grabbed her before she fell and got in two more sold blows with the brass knuckles; but she wasn't finished. The blonde's entire face was bloody now, as were Rosie's hands and the brass knuckles, and her nose was clearly broken. A three-inched gash lay directly below her left eye.
Rosie took off her brass knuckles and beat the woman for another few minutes. Paula was cringing and writhing on the ground, obviously having sustained some broken bones. At one point, Rosie deliberately stepped on Paula's right hand and cracked it. Paula was on the fringe of fainting. Blood poured from her eyebrows, nose, lips and left ear. Rosie stomped down on Paula's head and ground her face into the gravel by the track.
"This is just a warning, cxnt. Next time, I?ll be less merciful. I'll simply kill you."
"You're certainly mean enough."
"What did you say, skinny c*nt."
Rosie approached Paula as she propped herself up with her elbows on the gravel. Paula kicked her boots out at her, but Rosie grabbed them and pulled them off. She tossed them in the grass.
"Hey, those are expensive boots, you fat bitch." A look of horror crossed the woman's face as she realized what she'd just said.
"Ooooo. You're going to pay for that, biker slut."
Rosie reached down and grabbed the back of the woman's neck. She then slapped her arms around her narrow back and pulled her to her feet. The biker chick slapped at her but Rosie quickly subdued her. She then grabbed the woman's shirt and pulled it off her. She was surprised to see that the woman had some kind of kinky nipple-pinching bra on.
"What a freak," said Rosie.
"Leave me alone."
Rosie wrapped her fat arms around the biker chick's head and face and smothered her. The blonde went limp in her arms. She smirked as she dropped the woman down on the gravel, unbuckled her belt and yanked it off. She threw it on top of the woman's shirt.
"I should rip your jeans off, too, but don't want to see your shaved p*ssy. Isn't that what you got under the tight jeans, bitch." The woman didn't answer. Rosie slapped her in the face.
The biker chick awakened. She screamed.
"Ain't nobody coming down her to rescue you, c*nt, so you might as well save your puny lungs." She kicked the blonde's legs. "I asked you a question, bitch."
"What?" The woman snarled at her.
"Do you shave that p*ssy of yours like the other strippers and biker c*nts."
The blonde looked down at her waist and noticed her belt was missing. She wrapped her arms around her chest.
"I've already seen the little pimples you call breasts, bitch. Now, I'm asking you a question. Do you shave your c*nt."
"That's none of your business."
"I'd say it is because if you don't tell me, I'm going to crush the life out of you."
"Yes, I shave it. You happy?"
"Not yet."
Rosie grabbed Paula by the arms and dragged her down by the river bank. The woman screamed as she flailed her little arms around. When Rosie got to the lake, she grabbed the back of the biker chick's hair and slammed her face first into a rusty pole. Paula dropped like a dead fish. As she lay there with her head spinning, she really thought the girl was going to throw her ass in the river and drown her. She was vicious enough. And she knew she couldn't do anything about it. The high school girl was too strong and powerful. She felt helpless and embarrassed about her bare chest. She watched as Rosie stood over her--her face bloodied and bruised.
"This is a warning to you and the other sluts. If you or any of your friends ever show up here at the high school again, you'll be carried out of here in a body bag. You hear me slut?"
Paula nodded her head. She just lay there expecting the girl to continue thrashing her. But Rosie mercifully relented and let her go.
Rosie tottered toward her truck, her ass cheeks bulging from her sweats like two overloaded laundry bags. "It's gonna be a long walk back for you bitch." Rosie cackled. Her laugh pierced the still night air.
Paula cringed at the girls voice. Her entire body ached, including her crotch and back. She passed out a short time later. A laid-off dock worker found her near the edge of the water. He thought she was dead but called the life squad when she stirred.
"Who did this to you, honey?"
"Some fat girl." Paula was too embarrassed to say that she got beat up by a high school girl.
Rumor has it that Paula never went back to the school. She moved away about a year later and got another job stripping somewhere. Her brutal beating should serve as a lesson to any biker chicks or strippers reading this. Stay away from schools with your drugs. The girls are smart. They'll usually send the fattest girls in the school down to handle you. And you certainly don't want to end up like Paula. Pity if you don't heed this warning.
