Melissa Windeyer's wanton Mayhem ch 13
Gala at the Garden
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“It’s time you met some more of my friends.”
I’d been helping Britney prepare for her move to her new apartment. We’d looked at furniture and ordered whitegoods for delivery when she was ready to move in. All this running around was wearing when coupled with my job. I always liked shopping, especially with someone else’s money, but shopping for furniture with Britney just underlined the fact that Britney had got what I still only dreamed of – her own apartment, paid for by her lover.
What was more, Britney had known Henry Paget for only a short time before she had wheedled him into getting her a furnished apartment at a much-reduced rent. That would have rankled if I wasn’t Melissa Windeyer, and above such petty jealousies.
Britney needed to learn her place. Despite this momentary advantage, she was still no more than one of my subjects. She might be above nothings like Lisa Howard, but in no way was she my equal or rival.
She needed to be reminded of that, and meeting some of my close friends would be one way of reinforcing her social inferiority. So I lined up Juanita Salas and her man Graham Blundel, along with my prize sub Holly. I knew Juanita, who was a legal secretary in a big suburban firm, and Graham, an electrical engineer for one of the power companies, had higher-status, better paying jobs than Britney could ever aspire to, and that they were far more cultured than she was. Indeed, they liked to think they were more cultured than I was. They went to art shows and galleries, to the theatre, to book launches. Despite all that though, they’d made no use of the contacts that gave them to advance to the A-list of Chicago society.
I knew I could persuade Juanita to help. She dabbled in the Domme/sub scene where I’d befriended her years ago. The big Hispanic girl was properly grateful for my patronage, A gossip – someone I could rely upon to spread whatever stories I wanted – if not magnify them, and to tell me the latest scandals, she’d done my bidding more than once. Of course, I’d rewarded her with some choice off-cuts from my plate.
At five foot ten and probably more than two hundred pounds, Juanita really was a big girl. She was sexy too, in her own plus-sized way, though her dress sense left much to be desired. More than once I’d taken her in hand, persuading her against tight fitting tops and skirts, but after a while she’d always gone back to her bad habits. When I reminded her of my advice, she’d be bashful, blushing and apologetic – and for a while she’d be sensible again. She was always properly grateful for my advice, but just too ditsy to follow it for too long. Still, she wasn’t too ditsy to remember her place with me, and that was what I liked most about her. So Juanita – cultured, middle class, who thought she was 'sophisticated' and yet acknowledged I was way sexier than she was and far more powerful in the D/s world – was almost ideal for the party I had in mind.
But almost wasn’t quite enough. The true ideal – and the one who I knew would come even more readily than Juanita – was Holly, the English professor on exchange to the University of Chicago, the Domme I'd broken to be my loyal subbie. Holly, the sophisticated, somewhat older woman – she was thirty-something – who relied on my protection in the scene, was sure to impress Britney and show that Melissa Windeyer was more than she could ever dream of being.
I knew just the occasion too – the Crystal Garden was hosting a gala in support of the Chicago Opera Theatre’s ‘Opera for All’. This would be highbrow enough to convince Britney I was cultured but not so highbrow that it would turn her off. It would be sufficiently avant-garde to impress Juanita without turning her off as too modernistic, and Holly would like the idea of classical opera reconstructed for children. It ticked all the boxes – but then, one would expect that my ideas would.
Britney suggested we take Kelsey along too, more as a thankyou for helping us with the apartment than anything else, though he also deserved a reward for telling us about Carmella capturing Paulina. I was pleased when the gurl agreed. Here was another person to impress, someone else to sing my praises.
We made quite a sight as our group walked into the Crystal Garden. I wore a very simple but beautiful cream dress, low cut to show just enough décolletage to be sexy without being immodest. I matched it with heels and the silver collar Ms Justeen had given me – no costume jewelry or anything to detract from the elegant minimalism of the dress.
I’d chosen this almost severe simplicity after Britney showed me the outfit she’d chosen – a skin-tight, hot pink top, a pleated red skirt that flared out when she twirled around, a red blazer and red calf boots. She’d topped it all off with bangles and a torque of pearls – false of course – strung over silver chains round her neck. While her clothes screamed red raw lasciviousness mine quietly suggested refined sensuality.
I was pleased that I’d managed to persuade Juanita not to wear something tight fitting. Instead she wore a low-cut, wine red, short-sleeved surplice-front dress that showed off her generous bust and equally generous curves without making her look fat. She accessorised her tasteful dress with an Egyptian styled necklace and calf boots.
Kelsey had a preppy look – short sleeved cream blouse, navy and white checked pleated skirt and navy heels. Of course, he’d accessorized with the silver chain around his throat securing the plate that read “Property of Melissa Windeyer.” He'd learned not to go out without it.
Naturally heads turned immediately when we made our entrance. People admired our clothes, friends greeted us warmly. Lesser women, fearful that we’d snatch their men, started angrily. Men whose wives or girlfriends weren’t quick enough to distract them, offered us drinks.
Holly knew several of the other guests from the university and introduced us. We chatted with them, Britney and I practising our well-honed conversational skills when the A listers – with whom I, at least, naturally belonged – talked about their own topics. We asked open questions, letting them do most of the talking but rephrasing one of the speaker’s comments, with which others had disagreed, as our own opinions. Holly's friends were understandably impressed. Even Kim Curzon unbent enough to join the group for a few moments before we moved on. I knew enough not to overstay our welcome, even though Britney wanted to stay a little longer when some professor was all but drooling over her. It wasn’t wise not to overstay to risk revealing that we weren’t quite as knowledgeable as we made out.
We continued our procession round the room, greeting people we knew, meeting new people, attracting more looks and stares. At times it felt like everyone was watching us. Several times we stopped to chat for a few minutes with someone worth our while or because some eligible guy hit on one of us. Juanita and I giggled when one man even hit on Kelsey, so good was his masquerade.
But we didn't stop for long – not even long enough for a guy to buy us a drink. There'd be time for that later, once we’d identified those who truly deserved our attention. After all, Britney Summers and Melissa Windeyer were two of the hottest women in Chicago. Till then, Juanita would be a more than adequate chaperone. No one ever wanted to mess with her towering, formidable appearance.
But for a few moments Juanita went her own way. There were people she wanted to see, some she wanted us to meet but she had to poiitely work her way into their circle first. And so we – Kelsey, Britney, Holly and I continued our stroll, chatting with a few people- it was good to see a few we or at least Holly knew- good to remind Juanita she wasn't the only one with connections in the arts world.
And Holly was as good as I expected. After a few minutes – long enough for Juanita to rejoin us – we caught up with Kim Curzon again. She was standing almost alone, looking around as if she needed company. We supplied that and Kim was glad to join our group. That surprised Juanita, who knew how haughty Kim was to those she regarded as her inferiors. When Kim and I began talking animatedly about the theatre scene in Chicago, Juanita was downright annoyed. No longer could Juanita patronise me as she had sometimes attempted to in the past. No longer could she think that, at least in terms of culture, she outshone me. I smiled to myself – the night had already achieved something.
Kim kept greeting people as we made another procession around the room. She introduced us to many of her friends. Juanita knew some of them, and I'd already met a few at the opera with Edward or the New Globe with Kim. It was all new to Britney though. I was sure she'd never been to anything more sophisticated than a rock concert. She struggled to keep up with the conversation – struggled and failed. She tried to change the topic a few times but Kim always steered it back. I’d never before been grateful for the actress's arrogance. Kim and I exchanged winks. She was deliberately showing Brit up for the philistine – a word I had learned from Kim herself – that she was.
Brit muttered something quietly to me about Henry never taking her anywhere like the opera. I shrugged and replied, “And why do you suppose that is?“ Brit flushed as red as her outfit and after that she all but stopped talking, answering questions in glum monosyllables. Again I smiled to myself with satisfaction. More importantly than impressing Juanita, and much more importantly than opening Brit's eyes to the arts, I'd shown Brit that, for all that she’d managed to con Henry into getting her an apartment while Edward was still talking about it for me, she was still the unsophisticated one. She simply didn't compare with me. And now she knew it and the night had achieved something more.
Then, suddenly, it all changed when Kim waved and called out “Hey! Arthur! Lisa! Come on over! I want you to meet some new friends!” I turned in horror to follow her eyes as, hand in hand, Arthur Wellesley and Lisa Howard walked toward us.
I'd hadn’t seen either of them since that awful night that had begun right here in the Crystal Garden, the night that had started so well between Arthur and me, but had changed so badly when that fat insect Lauren had pounded me, and then ended so horridly when Lisa – that puny nobody who I'd destroyed on the beach and later broken in front of an audience of silkies – had manipulated Arthur into using me as their sex slave.
Now here they were together. “Hey Melissa!” Lisa greeted me brightly, then cooed, “We haven’t seen for such a long time! Not since…well, Arthur…” she squeezed his hand, “…it was that night here, wasn’t it?” The bitch’s voice dripped with sickly, mocking sweetness.
I felt myself redden with anger but then, as the memories of that night flooded my mind, the anger turned to shame and – what was worse – the horrid arousal that went with it. I whitened, fighting to control myself, digging my nails hard into my palms and thinking even more frantically of icebergs.
It only got worse as Arthur added, “Yes, it’s been way too long, Melissa. You and your special…” He paused and I thought for a second he was trying to suppress a sxxxxxxx, but I dismissed the unworthy idea. Surely Arthur was more of a gentleman than that. But then he continued “…talents…are greatly missed.”
I’d never been so shocked. I struggled to suppress a gasp and couldn’t help but blush deep red as he and Lisa smiled at each other knowingly.
“Of course, your absence hasn’t really mattered too much,” Lisa simpered. “Sure, it’s wonderful to see you and it would be great to relive…old times…but you’ve already done the best possible thing you could for us, just by bringing us together.” She smiled at Arthur and they kissed warmly.
Her tone made my blood boil and chill at the same time. I wanted so badly to destroy her all over again, that I was almost trembling. But could I, with Arthur cheering her on? Could I, with those horrible memories swirling in my mind?
“I never thought of you as a matchmaker, Melissa.” Kim sounded interested. Her comment was no doubt innocent – or at least I hoped it was, since surely she couldn't know the story of that night – but I just didn't want to go there. The thought if Lisa and Arthur as an item was just too much.
“Nor me, Mel,” Britney chimed in, though of course she knew I was a matchmaker. After all, I'd helped her hook up with Henry.
I needed to get away from this uncomfortable conversation. “Excuse me please. I need a drink. I'm sure we all do. Come with me Holly, you can help me carry the trays.” I dashed off without even asking people what they wanted to drink. I'd just have to wing it. There was no way I could stand to be in the same space as Lisa.
Holly tagged along dutifully. “You told me Lisa was your sub,” she said as she struggled to keep up with my pace. “She's not behaving that way. Nor are you. Why don't you put her in her place?”
“I don’t need your advice, Holly Davidson!” I snapped back, and she shut up as we continued to the bar.
Then I got a lucky break. “Hey!“ I nudged Holly. “Listen.” I pointed to half a dozen youngsters hanging out near the bar. Most of them were not much more than kids. They were talking loudly and their conversation carried easily to us.
Holly was unimpressed. “How did they get here??”
“Shut up and listen!” I hissed.
“Yeah, like I was saying…Carl and I went to the beach a few weekends ago. Like it was stinking hot…the tar was all gooey. The sand was so hot it burned bare feet, so I had to put some flip flops on. We got there just as a fight began. I don’t know what caused it, but this brunette and some mom were yelling at each other and then they got into it.
“The brunette was a big girl…thick everywhere, especially her tummy. She was about mid-twenties, with hair that hung down almost to her shoulders. She wore a t-shirt and bikini bottoms, and it was pretty obvious there was nothing under the t-shirt. Her boobs were shaking all over the place.”
“A big girl…kinda like yourself, Maddi,” one of their circle interrupted her.
It was true. The kid – she probably wasn't even twenty one yet – was very plump, with a big curvy belly, big – probably 38DD – breasts and thickish arms and legs. She wore a wraparound mauve dress with short-sleeves that revealed her pudgy upper arms. It had a deep plunging neckline, offset to the left and was held in place by a row of hard-pressed buttons that ran all the way down over her rounded bosom, past her thick waist and down her left leg. It would have been well suited to someone three dress sizes smaller but, while it showed this fatty had curves in the right places, it also let those curves balloon out in all the wrong places.
“Hey! Don't – ” the fatty began, but she stopped when the young man next to her slid his arm right around her, pulling her into him.
“No…no, David,” the young man interjected. “Maybe a little bit like Maddi, but not as hot…not as sexy as you are, Maddi.”
I shook my head silently as we listened. The guy was wrong. Maddi was more than a little overweight. Still, I thought to myself, it was better to be too plump than some skinny clothes rack.
The guy kissed her firmly and she responded in kind.
“Ok, ok…get a room, you two!“ a girl laughed.
“No!” argued the man who’d first interrupted Maddi. “I want to hear the story of the fight. Go on, Maddi.”
“Well yeah…maybe the brunette was a little fat…but she carried it in such a sexy way.” The guy with his arm around Maddi – I guessed he was the ‘Carl’ she’d mentioned at first – took up the story. “The mom…well, she was blonde, a bit older…maybe 30…and skinny. She was in a bikini, though it was a pretty modest one. When we first saw them, the blonde was holding an ice cream in each hand and arguing with the big brunette.”
Maddi interrupted him. “Wiry is a better word for the mom. She wasn't skinny. She looked fit, like she worked out at the gym…a lot.”
“Yeah Maddi you're right. You could see it in her arms and legs.”
Maddi continued. “The mom was good looking…yeah a real 'hot mom.' I don’t know how the fight started. One second they were yelling at each other…I don’t know what about…I wasn’t paying much attention at first…but next moment, the bitch just laid into the mom with a huge slap to the face. It almost knocked her off her feet, though strangely enough she kept hold of her ice creams. The mom staggered…then staggered a lot more when the big bitch's fist ploughed into her gut.
“She dropped the ice creams then,” Carl cut in.
Maddi gave him a look. “Her body tensed as if she was about to fight back, but then she seemed to change her mind.”
“Maddi, the mom just took to her heels!”
“It wasn't as if the mom couldn't have fought.” Maddi continued. She and Carl were almost talking over one another. “She was fit…wiry. She looked strong. For a second before she ran off, I swear I saw her body tense. She was ready to take a swing at the brunette but like I said, she seemed to change her mind. It was clear she didn't want to fight…not in front of her kids. She made a choice.“ Maddi was dogmatic.
“Who are you kidding, Maddi?” Carl shot back. “The bitch had it all over the mom, chasing her all round the beach and up to the parking lot. The mom only turned and fought when the bitch cornered her. She had nowhere to run.”
“Nah, the mom was ready to fight once she got to the parking lot. No way was she cornered. She just chose where she wanted to fight…not where her kids were. I know these things, Carl! Remember I've I fought too.
Maddi went on. “The mom had a real fighter's stance…defensive, slightly hunched forward, legs a little bent at the knees, arms up protecting her body. You could see she wanted this. Her eyes were bright. I’m pretty sure there was another reason she ran away too. She thought she'd make the big brunette chase her. Like Carl said, she was fit and she figured the bitch wasn’t. You could see the way she was sizing the bitch up when they got to the parking lot. She fired a few sparring slaps, testing the bitch out.”
“Iit didn't do her any good!” Carl retorted. “Sure, her slaps hit, but they didn't faze the brunette…not one bit. They hardly registered, except when the brunette swung an arm up to sweep them away. The mom seemed like she was waiting for that. She tried a punch at the brunette's belly.
“Yeah Maddi, I know what you're going to say,” Carl went on hurriedly as Maddi opened her mouth again. “The slaps were feints, but the brunette wasn't taken in. She saw the punch coming and sidestepped. The blonde mom's punch just kissed her side. The brunette went at her hard then, really pounding her. We watched as the bitch laid into her till the mom pleaded for her to stop.” He laughed. “The mom was so scared, she even wet herself! We could see the stain on her bikini bottoms.
“It was all over pretty quick. The bitch, as Maddi calls her, strutted back down to the beach again. She looked as if she owned the place…head up high, her big tits jiggling with each step. You could see her nipples hard and erect, poking through her tee. Her eyes flicked from one person to another, like she was daring them say anything or to criticise her for fighting. Nobody did.
“She walked down to a man and two small children. She spoke to the man for a moment, and then he and the kids went up to the parking lot to find the blonde.”
“That was when we knew what had happened,” Maddi cut in again. “The guy was the blonde’s husband…she was the kids’ mom. Once he found her, they came back down to the beach for just long enough to pack their stuff and get the hell out.”
“The bitch was fuming,” resumed Carl. “The whole beach could see it. She’d won, but she was not happy at all. She wasn’t strutting any longer. Her head was down and she mumbled to herself. She wouldn’t look at anyone, not even her friends as she sat down with them again. We didn’t know what she wanted, but her body language told us she hadn’t got it and she hated that.
“She was a bully, Carl! She wasn’t worth your sympathy. Sure, she was insecure, but that’s why she picked fights…trying to feel better about herself. Be honest…you and I know she picked that fight with the blonde mom. She was just trash…yeah, hot, sexy trash, I’ll admit.” Maddi seemed to anticipate Carl’s protest. She raised her voice slightly and added quickly, “Yeah I know...she was a little fat but she carried it in such a sexy way, thick everywhere especially the belly which I love.” Maddi smiled. “Sexy trash all right…but seeing her lose would be even sexier.”
“And that’s what happened,“ replied Carl, obviously eager to continue the narrative.
I decided it was time to make my presence felt. ”Some people just can't help themselves,” I interjected before Carl could continue. “Their own egos are so feeble they have pick on somebody they think is an easy victim...and more often than not, it backfires. Sounds like that’s what happened to the trashy bitch.”
They all turned to look at me. I smiled. “Hi…I'm Melissa Windeyer, and this is – ”
“Dr Holly Davidson,” Carl said before Holly could introduce herself. He smiled broadly. I looked more closely at him. He was a few years older than the rest – perhaps my age.“ Hello Doctor,” he continued. “I've been to your extra mural lectures at the U…'Shooting Party at Locksley Hall'. You tied history and English literature together in a new way. It made that whole late Victorian, Edwardian period come alive.”
Holly smiled at his compliment. Again I blessed my forethought in having Holly along, but this moment was about me, not Holly. Before either of them could go any further, I stepped into their circle. “May we join you?” They could hardly say no.
“Yes, please join us,” said Carl, regaining his grip on his girlfriend’s waist. “And you’re exactly right…some people just can’t help themselves. I suppose you’ve already worked out, I’m Carl and this is Maddi.“ He introduced us to the other four in the circle.
“Now…Maddi is it? You were saying?” I prompted the plump blonde kid to go on.
She looked at me coldly, her head back, staring down her nose a little. “What’s it to you?” Removing Carl's restraining hand, she stepped forward aggressively. “Who are you, anyway? I get that Carl indulges his cultural yearnings by going to your friend's lectures – “ she nodded at Holly “ – but you…” She stepped closer still. “Who are you?”
I didn’t give her any ground. It takes a lot more than a fat kid with an attitude to intimidate Melissa Windeyer. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to wind her up any further and I really did want to hear the rest of her story, if only to blot out the horrid thought of Arthur and Lisa. “I already told you. I’m Melissa Windeyer, and I'd love to hear your story. Go on…please.” I gave her a brilliant smile, and those who didn’t know me must have thought I was almost groveling to the fat bitch. “What happened next?”
“Well,” Maddi continued, her eyes still on me and her natural aggression battling with her desire to tell the story, “nothing till later in the afternoon. Carl and I set up our towels, swam for a while…we lay down and had a bit of a snooze in the sun…just generally relaxed.
“I guess it was a little after four o’clock when I went to get some ice cream. By the time I came back I saw this tall blonde standing up to the bitch.” She shrugged. “Well, she was taller than the brunette who was probably three inches taller than me, and I’m five foot three.”
Again, Carl added some background. “While Maddi was getting the ice creams, the bitch…as she keeps calling the brunette…and the tall blonde had collided. The blonde had spilled her drink down the brunette’s tee. They stood trading words, and the brunette was getting more and more angry.”
“Carl, she
was a bitch.” Maddi stamped her foot heavily. I couldn’t help but smile at her petulance. “And she was livid…probably still boiling from earlier. She was so mad she couldn’t see…or didn’t care…that the blonde was so much fitter than she was.
“I was looking at at the definition in the blonde’s body, against the bitch’s overfed belly and plump limbs.” Again I found it hard not smile – Maddi could have been describing herself. “She was wearing this tiny black bikini, and it easy to see she worked out way more than the bitch did. The blonde kept her cool too. She scored with smart trash talking, which the bitch just couldn’t match. Yeah the bitch was dumb and the madder she got, the more tongue-tied she got. It was so good watching the bitch get redder and redder, as she realised the blonde was totally winning the battle of words.”
Carl had his arm around Maddi again, cradling her round belly with his palm, his fingers spread and his thumb stroking her tummy through her dress. Maddi kept talking. “It wasn’t long…not even long enough for us to eat the ice creams…before the bitch lost it completely. She gave the blonde a huge shove to the shoulders that rocked her back. Then the blonde slapped the bitch’s face and the fight was on!
“At first the bitch had it pretty much all her own way. She pounded the blonde with slaps and punches, forcing her back. The blonde did her best to fight back…she even managed to tear the bitch’s tee right off her…and do mean ‘tear it off’…she literally ripped it right down the middle! But the bitch was a powerhouse, and she knocked the blonde down to the sand.
“When the bitch slowed down a little and the blonde managed to fight her way to her feet again, the bitch trapped her in a bear hug. I watched the bitch use her strength…she had that alright…to squeeze the air out of the blonde's lungs. I thought the blonde had had it then, but she broke free by biting the bitch's shoulder. She didn't just bite it either…she sank her teeth in and held on, almost gnawing at it. The bitch screamed like a demon. The blonde even spat out a bit of flesh as the bitch let her go.”
“That was vicious!” I exclaimed. I wasn't too sure I wanted to meet this blonde.
“Hey, the bitch bought herself the fight!“ Maddi replied as she turned and looked at me. “Don't waste your sympathy, Melissa. The blonde was trying to avoid a fight….she apologized more than once. The bitch could have backed off, accepted the blonde's apology…but no, she was itching for a fight…and she got what she wanted.”
Maddi shivered slightly, her eyes suddenly glazing over as though distracted. I looked. Carl was kneading her big belly with his fingers. He’d been doing so as Maddi was describing the fight, but now he was turning it up – still stroking her with his thumb, but now his fingers grabbed some flesh, gently squeezing, then releasing, before moving slightly and repeating the action. It was clearly getting to Maddi. Her face and neck were growing pink.
Maddi shook herself and she swallowed hard. ”Anyway, as the fighters broke apart, the blonde slammed the bitch with two hard punches. She totally buried her fists in that soft belly.” Maddi gleefully emphasised 'totally' and continued. “The bitch reeled back, breathing hard. Her bottoms were already halfway down her over her hips and as staggered backwards, they slid to the sand. She almost tripped but kicked them away and managed to stay on her feet. She was naked…like I said, she'd lost her tee earlier when the blonde ripped it off her. The blonde had lost her top too…she had big tits and they bounced right out when the bitch knocked her down.
“For a moment the two women stood apart. The bitch's big tits and belly heaved as she gulped air in. She was flushed, gasping, sweaty…a mess.”
“But a hot mess!” Carl added. “C’mon Maddi…she was, and you know it! Standing butt naked, legs planted like tree trunks in the sand, glaring malevolently at the blonde, she oozed raw animal carnality.” Carl’s words dripped with desire. “There wasn’t a man in the crowd who didn’t want to fuck her.”
“Carl Olafsen!” Maddi snapped, her head whipping around as she glared at him.
But he talked over her. “You know it’s true. She stood there, pawing the ground, cupping her breasts, rubbing her nipples, like the whole thing was turning her on like crazy. She was like a lioness, tossing her tawny mane as she sucked in air, her eyes focused on her enemy. Yeah, she was sweating but even that sweat made her voluptuous body glow…her big belly and heavy breasts glistened in the late afternoon sun.”
He went on, seemingly oblivious to the evil stare Maddi was directing at him. “Yeah, she was dirty…sand sticking to her body, her hair mussed up, her body bleeding from the blonde’s bites and scratches, her skin blotchy from where she'd been hit hard. She would have had big bruises the next day. But for all that, she just exuded power.
“And like I said, all the guys wanted to fuck her. She knew it..and she revelled in it. Raw carnal lust. She didn't take her eyes off the blonde but you knew she somehow was sizing up each guy on the beach. It was like she was the alpha lioness, choosing her mate…choosing which guy she wanted to fuck…who was worthy of her.
“Yeah I know…she needed to regroup,” he went on hurriedly, overriding a protest from Maddi. “The blonde had damaged her, for sure, but she’d damaged the blonde too. She knew it, and so did the blonde. Everyone on the beach knew it, and they knew that until the blonde bit her, the big brunette was powering her way to total victory.”
“But the blonde stopped her cold with just that one bite.” At last Maddi got a word in. “The bitch was nothing but a cheap slut, and she looked like one. Yeah, guys wanted to fuck her…they knew they could. They knew she’d put out. The way she walked, the way she stood facing the blonde, hand on hips, legs wide apart, no attempt to hide her nakedness…the way she looked at everyone with that defiant, challenging glare…she looked intimidating, but anyone could see it was all an act. She was trying way too hard. Everything about her just screamed ‘easy’.
“There was nothing cheap or easy about the blonde though. She had poise. If the guys wanted to fuck the bitch, that was cuz they knew she was an easy target. They knew the blonde was out of their league. She was no cheap slut trying to fake it. No, you could see, just from the way she stood, almost relaxed but ready to fight, balanced lightly on the balls of her feet…her attitude, brimming with confidence…you might have thought she was just strolling down the beach. She was any guy’s wet dream come to life…a real Cali beach girl, tall and tanned, slim and strong. Her confidence wasn’t just attitude…it was real.”
Maddi was really getting into her stride now, relishing her description of the two fighters. It was clear she liked and respected the blonde – and equally clear that she despised the big brunette who, ironically, was so much like her. “Unlike the big dumb bitch, the blonde had brains to fight with…not just weight and anger. She'd already turned the fight around, and now she was infuriating the bitch just with her confident attitude.
“The bitch was all about intimidation…bullying and frightening the women she fought, so they couldn’t think straight and couldn’t fight back properly. But she couldn’t frighten the blonde, and she knew it. She knew she’d bitten off more than she could chew, but she also knew she couldn’t back down.
“Hey, the whole beach knew it. The blonde might have had the worst of the fight so far, but she was way fitter, with way more endurance than the fat bitch. Everyone could see that. It wasn’t just her lean, slim body with her big sexy rack…it wasn’t even just her attitude either, though that was part of it. It was her calm self-assurance. It was like she knew she was going to win the fight, and it showed.
“That got under the bitch's skin. Instead of planning her attack, she just jumped in and grabbed the blonde, whirled her around and let her go…the old crack of the whip. The blonde staggered, trying to keep her balance, but then when the brunette tackled her, she fell to the sand. Sheer brute force.”
Maddi suddenly gasped. Carl had squeezed her tummy hard. Her eyes widened and she seemed to forget what she was saying. “Hey, the brunette was onto her quickly.” Carl cut in, smiling sheepishly as if apologising that the only way he could break his girlfriend’s chatter was to play with her.
Even that didn't work for long. Maddi put her hand over his, and continued, even though her face was a little flushed. “But not quickly enough. She tried to pin the blonde down but she failed. The blonde just rolled away. The bitch flung a few punches…one of them even bloodied the blonde’s nose, but the blonde responded with punches of her own. She knew where to hit, too…buried her fists in the bitch’s soft sides. The bitch groaned as each fist hammered in and hurt her.
“The big bitch rolled around, trying to get on top of the blonde so she could use her weight, but it…it wasn’t…happening.” Maddi stammered a moment and squirmed as Carl resumed rubbing, squeezing and kneading her belly as she told the story. Her face was getting more flushed. She was getting off on the memory of the fight – and on what Carl was doing to her.
Nevertheless, Maddi kept narrating the tale. “Pretty soon, the blonde started to take control of the fight. It wasn't that she was stronger than the bitch…the bitch had forced her to the sand twice now…but that she had way more stamina. The bitch was slowing down, big time, but the blonde was still really fast. She got away from the bitch and got to her feet. She was covered in sand…they both were…but the blonde looked way better at that point.
“The bitch attacked again, feinting a left punch and then trying to hurl herself on the blonde. She had more brawn than brains…” Maddi giggled ”…way more brawn and no brains. She just kept doing the same old tired moves, even though they weren’t working. It was like she didn’t know any better.”
I shook my head. What did Maddi have against this brunette? It seemed she’d only seen her that one time. Maddi was probably far fatter than the brunette, anyway – and Maddi had no self-control. I’d never have let a guy play with me in public like Carl was playing with Maddi now as she recounted the story. He’d slipped his fingers between the buttons of her dress now and was caressing her bare flesh beneath the fabric. I watched his fingers trace shapes inside Maddi’s dress and my own tummy tingled. I knew what that felt like.
“The blonde wasn't fooled,” Maddi continued “She dodged easily, swung her knee up and the charging bitch ran right into it…impaled herself on it. She had no way to dodge it and the blonde buried her knee in that fat belly. The bitch doubled over, gagging…almost retching. The blonde grabbed her hair and flung her to the sand, face first.
“The bitch was hurt but she wasn’t done yet…or maybe she was and just couldn’t admit it to herself. Anyway, she rolled over and struggled to get up, using one hand while the other held her gut. She was hurt…gasping for breath, her belly and boobs swaying back and forth as she tried to stand.
Maddi suddenly stiffened. ”Ohhh! Carl Olafsen, stop that now!” He had slipped a button open – here, in full view of everyone – and slid his hand inside her dress, but Maddi had finally woken up to what he was doing. She tugged her boyfriend’s hand out. Carl caught my eye and winked surreptitiously. Maddi was flushed dark and panting, her massive breasts heaving. She took a swig of her drink to steady herself before she went on again with her tale. I needed one too. Her colorful description of the fight, so vivid I could see it happening before me – not to mention watching Carl teasing her and knowing just what that was doing to her – was exciting me.
Maddi put her drink down. “I started cheering for the blonde. By now she was taking it to the bitch…really starting to take her apart, pounding her back and forth all over the sand. I loved watching her fists bury themselves in the bitch's soft belly and boobs.
“The bitch was just dumb. She needed to regroup but instead she just charged again as soon as the blonde stopped and taunted her. She was too stupid to realise the blonde was playing her. They crashed to the ground again, the bitch on top for a moment, but again the blonde escaped and got to her feet.
“The bitch was in a terrible state by now. She was bleeding from cuts to her face. She was totally exhausted and before she could get up, the blonde kicked her over onto her back. She stomped on the bitch's gut. I’m sure you could have heard the bitch’s squeal all over the beach. It was such a great sound. I had to laugh and cheer.” Maddi cackled cruelly, delighting in the memory of the brunette’s demise, and Carl took the chance to squeeze and knead her tummy again, though outside her dress this time. Maddi moaned softly, not stopping this time, but she continued with her story.
“The blonde dropped down and straddled the bitch. I got horny just watching her finish the bitch off by bouncing on her big belly.” Maddi was clearly horny now, just from retelling it. She didn’t seem to notice – or didn’t care – that Carl had slid his hand back inside her dress, I saw his hand squeezing her big belly in a way that would excite me if some guy did it to me. Of course I wouldn’t let any guy do that to me, but Carl was doing this to Maddi. No, I corrected myself he was
doing Maddi, in front of all of us. His actions, and the story, were making Maddi pant again. Her big breasts heaved as she gulped in air. The flush was all the way down to her chest now and I could even see her nipples poking at the fabric of her dress.
I watched as he continued to play her, my eyes fixed on the movements his fingers were making inside her dress. I saw her shiver and I had to stop myself from doing the same at the thought of how it must feel. I forced myself to think of icebergs, vast and white in winter on the Lake. I had to control myself, the way this fatty in front of me couldn't. Carl's hand ranged freely inside her dress, roaming lower, clearing visible through the fabric stretched tight across her belly. I was sure his fingers were low enough now to slip inside her panties. I felt my own insides twitch and quiver.
Maddi continued, though her voice was starting to tremble now. “But while that was the end of the fight, the blonde wasn't finished with the bitch yet. No way! She got some guys to take photos of her, posing with her foot on that big fat belly. She stomped on it on again, timing it beautifully so the bitch had gotten enough breath back to scream. Her legs and upper body jerked up off the sand.”
“Torturing her,” ventured someone.
“Damn right…and the bitch deserved all she got. She picked the fight. She wouldn’t let it go, despite everything the blonde did, not to fight her.”
“The turkey who called an early Thanksgiving,” said somebody else, and they all laughed.
“Totally!” said Maddi. “Anyway, the blonde got the guys to carry the bitch down to the lake like a sack of potatoes and throw her in. They let her flounder around for a bit like a beached whale…she was too far gone to stand up, let alone get herself out of the water. Finally, they fished her out and carried her up to the edge of the beach.
“They threw the bitch down on her belly, ass in the air. The blonde took a flip flop and slapped the bitch even sillier. The guys held the bitch down, all spread out, while the blonde slapped her ass with one hand and fingered her with the other. She obviously had the bitch totally worked out, cuz she had the bitch all hot and bothered despite the humiliation, or...” She paused and her head tilted back a little as Carl did something else to her under her dress. “…maybe because of it. Maybe that was the bitch’s game all along…looking for a beating.”
“Pretty soon…it didn’t take long…the bitch came hard, like the cheap slut she was.” Maddi was even more aroused now. Her speech was slurre and she gasped for breath after every third word or so. She squirmed against Carl as he played with her belly and – I was sure – fingered her.
The thought of that – the climax of the fight, the total destruction of the older, bigger woman by her smaller, fitter rival, the blonde's ruthlessness, and Maddi’s reaction here and now, being played with as she undoubtedly was, was exciting me way too much. I had to get a grip on myself.
Of course, it was all this fatty’s fault. She shouldn’t allow her base desires to get the better of her in public like this, putting on a shameful display. I’d never do such thing – but after all, I’m Melissa Windeyer and she wasn’t. Nevertheless, I could feel myself getting wet between my legs, and all because of Maddi and her weakness.
“But it wasn’t over, even then!” continued Maddi with malicious enjoyment. “The blonde whored her out. Like Carl said, there wasn’t a guy on the beach who didn’t want to fuck her…and they all did. Ohh!!! Carl!” She shook violently, jerked his hand out of her dress, spun around and slapped him. “I told you! Stop that! Not here!”
She turned back to us and it seemed like she was looking right at me when she went on. “They took her up behind some sand dunes so they weren’t in plain view of course, but that was only because they didn’t want the cops coming and spoiling the fun. We all followed them anyway and watched while they used her…singly and in groups. The blonde was standing there and not just watching…she was directing the whole gangbang, like the conductor in an orchestra. She yelled out ‘don’t forget she’s got three holes, guys…make sure you use them all!’ Maddi stared straight into my eyes when she said “and they all did.”
I was trying hard not to bite my lip at the thought of it, uncomfortably reminded of that night I’d spent with Edward, Brit and Henry after Brit and I had beaten the two stuck-up sisters, Carissa and Rachel. All three of them had made love to me – and I’d loved it. Not that they’d used me of course, not like had almost happened at Chatro if Césaire hadn’t – I shuddered as I tried desperately to push that horrid memory out of my mind, even as my insides clenched tight in unwelcome excitement. Maddi’s eyes bored into mine and I flushed with anger then as well as arousal.
Carl unwittingly came to my rescue when he chimed in. “No, there was at least one guy on the beach who didn’t fuck her…me.”
“I’d have kicked you in the balls if you’d tried!” declared Maddi vehemently.
It was my turn to fix her with a piercing stare. “So you got him to fuck you instead…did you, Maddi?” I said sharply. I wasn’t letting this fatty go. She’d gotten me all hot and bothered with her story and her sluttiness – Carl had just about publicly fucked her just now. She needed to be taken down a peg, and I intended to do just that.
That got her attention. Her head whipped around to face me once more. “Who are you again?” she snapped, reaching out and prodding my tummy with a purple fingernail.
That was enough – more than enough. No one touches Melissa Windeyer, especially not a fat slut like Maddi. I prodded her back, a lot harder – more like a karate jab – my fingers spearing into that soft fat belly. She let out a loud “ooof!” but struck back far quicker than I thought she would with a slap that smacked into my cheek so hard it made me stumble. I hadn’t even seen her hand move.
She gave me no respite. Slaps – maybe ten, maybe even more – pounded my face, my shoulders, my breasts. I couldn't defend. She just kept slapping, mixing up her blows so my hands were always in the wrong place. Whenever I brought them up to guard my face, she'd slap at my breasts. When I brought them down, she'd smack my face. Her slaps were heavy too. The fatty had so much weight and she swung so hard, her blows sent me reeling. If I managed to block a couple in a row – and of course I did since, after all, I’m Melissa Windeyer – a third would crash through my defences and knock me off balance again, sending me stumbling.
But I am Melissa Windeyer and the fatty’s run of luck – it was no more than that – had to come to an end. Regaining my balance, though I copped a slap doing so, I retreated , making her follow me. Her furious assault took a lot of effort and she was already breathing hard as she came after me, still swinging.
As she came close enough to slap me again, I ducked and the fatty's slap whistled over my head, leaving her outstretched with her arm above my head. I jabbed her belly again, harder than before. I felt it sink deep into that jelly-like tummy. Again Maddi gave an explosive “oofff!!!” as my beautifully timed blow drove the air out of her lungs and sent her staggering back.
I straightened up again and launched a hard slap that caught her across the face. She groaned. I struck out again, but this time she blocked my swinging arm with her own arm. She fired another slap at my face and this one hit but I was prepared and rode the blow. Though it snapped my head to the side, I kept my balance and retaliated with another slap to her cheek that rocked her back the other way.
She blocked my third slap by thrusting up her arm, and launched another of her own. I was still half groggy from the battering she’d given me in the first few moments of the fight, and I wasn’t fast enough to block it. Of course, I was recovering quickly from her cruel attack and I'd soon take the fight to her.
And I did. For a few moments we stood at arm’s length, trading slaps. As anyone who knew me would expect, I was hitting her more often than she was hitting me, and I was hitting her harder too. Yes, I was hammering the fatty, driving her back toward her friends now. She staggered when some of my hits struck her face. I pressed my attack, hit her hard and repeatedly, mixing up my shots.
She was defending more and more desperately but less and less effectively. More of my slaps began to strike home. Yes, she got a few shots in and they hurt, but they were becoming fewer as I powered on. I was smiling by then. This was what people expected to see when Melissa Windeyer fought – me controlling the fight, taking the best the fatty could dish out and coming back even stronger.
“Uggghhh!!!” I groaned suddenly. She’d hit me with a lucky shot, so hard I stumbled and almost fell. I blocked her next blow and struck back. She ducked but my slap hit the top of her head. Still bent low, she slapped at my breasts, slamming them together. I winced – the heavy blow hurt – and I stepped back. I blocked her next slap and she parried mine, but then she struck again with another heavy slap that made me stagger.
She kept on hitting. Yes, I hit her back, hard and often, and yes I parried or dodged more of her shots than went home but those that landed hit me – damaged me. I groaned. I almost fell when a particularly solid blow struck. And the fatty smiled – smiled at me, Melissa Windeyer, like she actually thought she was going to win! She cackled when she landed another blow and I rocked hard on my heels. It was a horrid noise. She was horrid. She was using her weight, her very fatness to power those swinging slaps. She was forcing me back, making me defend more, trying to keep her at a distance, to give myself time to recover. I attacked less now, and the fatty smirked as she recognized it. She knew she was taking control of the fight – and me.
It was so horridly cruel – the idea that I, Melissa Windeyer, could be overcome by a fat slut like this Maddi creature, simply because she was using her bulk to beef up her blows. But it looked, at least to the watching crowd, that it was more than an idea – it was quickly it was becoming a reality.
One of the fatty's friends called out, “Look at her eyes! Maddi's slapping her silly. See her stagger!” I ground my teeth in anger. I couldn’t be defeated, not in front of Holly, not here in the Crystal Garden, where Lauren had taken me. No! I couldn’t let that happen. I did my best to think quickly even as Maddi attacked. I needed something to turn the tables on her.
And I got it. Not a lucky break, but a calculated move – after all, I’m Melissa Windeyer. As Fatty swung at me again, I bobbed down low. I'd done that before, just to avoid her savage blows but this time I lunged forward, towards her, and thrust my hand out, fingers pressed together like a spike, in a hard jab at that fat belly.
She was all stretched out from her failed slap and couldn’t defend her stomach. I felt the jab sink deep into that blubbery midriff of hers. She reeled back, her eyes and mouth open wide as if she was astonished that I still had fight in me. She'd soon find she had underestimated me.
I didn't get to my feet – that was too predictable and she’d expect it. Instead I stayed low and threw myself forward, trying to head butt her stomach. She realised what I was about – her eyes opened even wider in fear – but she was too late to avoid me completely. Though she stepped back again, my head crashed into that soft jelly belly with all my weight behind it. Maddi made a noise like a deflating balloon, folding forward over me, then staggering backward, her mouth opening and closing rapidly as she gasped for breath.
Now, with a yard or more between us, it was time for me to stand. I still needed a moment to recover from those brutal slaps, but now it looked like Maddi needed recovery time even more than I did. I wasn't going to give her that time.
No, I'd use my superior brains – like the fattie had said, 'brains not brawn.’ I looked across at her. “All worn out?” I drawled, contemptously. “I'm not surprised with all that fat to lug around. It's like you're fighting for two.” Maddi scowled but still lacked the breath to retort. “You just can't take a blow to that big fat belly, can you?” My lip curled. “But don't worry, at least you'll have a nice soft landing when I put you down.”
Maddi growled as she found her voice. “I'll get you, you cocky bitch!”
“Only if you can catch me…pudding on wheels. Do you need two seats when you fly?”
Maddi clenched her teeth and charged at me – just like I knew she would. I waited till she was fully committed, then sidestepped. She blundered past. I slapped her butt mockingly on her way. “Such an easy target...so big,” I giggled.
She turned and charged again. I backpedaled quickly and easily avoided her lunge. She was tired and hurt as well as angry – never a good combination. “Too slow…again!” I forced another giggle that I knew would make her angrier still.
I led her a chase for maybe half a minute – enough for me to recover from her slaps, and enough to have her wheezing and panting for breath. She tried to corner me twice. Each time I dodged and let her crash forward. Each time I taunted her – once with another almost playful slap on her butt, once with words.
She wasn’t completely stupid though. She slowed up and began to close on me more cautiously, trying to anticipate my moves. I waited till she was in range – I was a taller by perhaps three inches so my range was greater than hers – and I fired a punch into her stomach.
She didn't expect that. She groaned and spluttered. I tried a combo – a jab to her face and another heavier one to her gut. She blocked the gut shot but my fist rocked her head to the side. I tried a third belly punch but scampered back when she swung her arm out in an attempted slap. I knew I was wearing her down now, but I knew too that too many more of those heavy slaps would do for me. I couldn't have that. I had to tire her out, just like the blonde had done to the brunette in the fight she’d told us about.
I sent a punch at her face. She blocked it too and tried another heavy slap. It was time for me to dodge again. The fatty tried to chase me, blocking my move to the side. I knew she was edging me closer into the corner, but I pretended I didn’t see it, hoping she’d get cocky and make a mistake.
She did, trying to charge and bull me back into the corner. Again I waited till she was committed and this time I raised my knee to slam it into her stomach. To my disgust, the bitch just barely managed to avoid it. I caught her side instead, hard enough to make her falter but not hard enough to stop her completely. She continued to close on me but way too slowly to stop me sidestepping away, out of her trap.
She turned around to face me as I darted away, and stood there wheezing as she sucked in air. She was sweating now, red faced, her big breasts and belly rose and fell with each heaving breath she took. Red faced, gasping, she was clearly wearing out fast. That last little play when she was trying to shepherd me to the corner had clearly taken its toll – just as I meant it to. I'd played her, playing on her weaknesses – her lack of stamina, her rashness and her sensitivity to being called out as fat. I’d goaded into her wasting what little stamina she had on rash moves.
Still, I didn’t want to take chances. I’d make one more play before I reeled her in and finished her off. “Hey!” I said loudly, making sure the rest of the crowd could hear, not just her. “Looks like a couple of sausages have burst their skins on the grill!” I pointed to where her tummy bulged out between some burst buttons on her dress.
She flushed even redder, snarled and charged me as I expected her to. This time I lunged too and met her halfway. My upraised knee impaled her gut. She folded forward, eyes bulging, a torrent of spit gushing from her mouth along with most of her remaining breath. She groaned in anguish when I swung my knee up a second time, driving it deep into her softness, staggering, barely staying on her feet. When I did it again, her knees buckled but she caught herself, bent double.
As she turned away from me, the instinct for flight overcoming that to fight, clutching protectively at her belly, I fired a punch that struck her solidly on the chin. She stumbled to her right – right into my left knee as I rammed it up into her bulging belly for a fourth time. That finished her, and she went down in a heap, groaning.
I dropped on top of her, driving another knee into her gut as I did. That whipped her head and pudgy legs up off the floor, just like she’d described the big brunette bitch doing when the blonde beach girl had stomped her. I straddled the fallen fattie and bounced up and down on her belly, smiling wickedly down into her tearful face. “Yes…just like your blonde heroine!” I taunted her, giggled as she gagged, her mouth wide, her tongue flicking the air. “You've had it, fatty!”
She said nothing, just looked up at me horrified. “Say it, fatty!” I bounced my butt on her battered belly a few more times, then paused. “Admit it…you lost!“
She stared up at me, her ruined mascara tracing dark trails down her face. “I…lost,” she gasped, almost a sob, “you…won.”
“Who's the better woman?”
“You…you are…Melissa,” she croaked.?
This fatty had insulted me, given me a hard time- I'd had to fully exert myself to overcome her. She needed something to remind her just who and how incomparably better Melissa Windeyer. I leaned down as I stradded the gasping bitch. I whispered in her ear, softly but my voice was full of menace.“There are plenty of quiet places here in the Crystal Garden, fatty. And even more in the rest of Navy Pier, fatty. You think all or at least some of the guys here wouldn’t take you and fuck you like they did to that bitch on the beach, fatty? You think your guy Carl could stop them, fatty?” Every sentence I branded her for what she was- fat. And she hated it, her eyes burned with weak, helpless rage. “Do you think he would stgop them, even if he could fatty? Do you think anybody would hear you scream as they took you time after time, fatty? in all this noise, fatty? I could whore you out fatty! But,” I stood up. “Thank your lucky stars I’m a better person…not just a better woman…than you are.”
I stood up, leaving her laying there, shaking. “But we all always knew that didn't we?” I said, loudly enough for the watching crowd to hear.
I nudged the fallen fatty with my foot. She whimpered. I smiled. Again I'd proved that it was will power and ruthlessness that separates women like me, Melissa Windeyer, from the pack. I looked around me, eyes roaming over the crowd. I was delighted to see Arthur Wellesley and Lisa. They were standing a little apart. Arthur was smiling at me. Lisa looked aghast as she gazed at the beaten blonde on the floor. When her gaze turned to me, I saw fear in her eyes.
I ignored Lisa, returned Arthur’s smile and hugged Holly. “Well my dear, we were on our way to get some drinks.”. I left Arthur to reflect on his choices.
My thanks go to the Scribbler who edited this and to those who appear in the story especially Maddi
