Hi, I heard about this biker chick who got caught selling drugs at a high school a couple years ago. Here name is Cindy and she’s blonde, pretty and about 5’4” and 112 pounds. She’s relatively shy but looks great in jeans. That’s why I was surprised that she was selling drugs in the first place. But she had this old man who was trying to get into a gang. You know the drill. Make the old man look good or your life will be miserable.
Anyway, this chick relayed this story to a friend of mine at the time. He said that Cindy told him pretty much what happened. That’s why I’m going to tell the story from her perspective. Here it goes. (And all of the characters here are at least 18)
-I approached the school about 3:45 p.m. I was supposed to meet some girl named Tammy at the front entrance. My heart was hammering as I walked up to the door and knocked. No one answered.
My heart pounded as I waited for the girl to open the door. My mouth was as dry as a bone. I was also a bit uncomfortable because I was wearing some new jeans that I hadn’t broken in. The front of the damn things were riding up my crotch as I wasn’t wearing any panties.
I knocked on the door again. Suddenly, it sprang open and I found myself staring at some girl who was about five inches taller than me and a good 160 pounds. She looked tough, too, as she scanned me from boots to coif. “I thought you’d be here 10 minutes ago.”
“Sorry, I got stuck in traffic.”
“Well, I need you to step inside. I can’t have some teacher seeing some biker chick in a f*ckin tub top hanging around the high school.”
“Where are the teachers?” I said. The girl glared at me, sending a shiver down my spine. I was scared anyway because some of the high school girls had rough reputations. I’d heard they liked to fight as well, which is something I’m totally opposed to. I’m also not very strong and didn’t want a confrontation.
“Most of them are gone,” said the girl. “We’re heading upstairs to one of the farthest hallways from the front of the school. It’s pretty dead this time of day, so there won’t be any prying eyes when we take care of business.
“It’s one hundred twenty dollars by the way,” I said.
“Hold your horses, skank. I’ll get you the money when we get upstairs.”
“I’m not a skank,” I said.
“Tight jeans, midriff and bandana. What else are you?”
“It’s just what I have on.”
I didn’t like being called a skank by an 18-year-old girl. I was 30 and demanded more respect than that. But most high school girls don’t respect anything or anyone today, so I just kept quiet.
We clambered the steps, traipsed to the far hallway and took a left. We hadn’t walked ten feet when the girl turned and said, “I hope you know this isn’t a real drug deal. I’m an athlete and the girls and I don’t do drugs.”
My throat churned and I saw the girl gaze at it and smile. She then placed her hands on her hips and said, “You women are going to stop selling drugs at my school or someone’s going die. And it’s not going to be any of my classmates.”
“Are you threatening me?” I said. My legs were shaking as I stuck my right thumb through the belt loop of my jeans. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable.
“As a matter of fact, I’m going to do more than that, biker cxnt. I’m going to beat your skinny little ass.” Suddenly, she reached out, grabbed both of my shoulders, twisted my body to the right and shoved me into one of the lockers.
Uhhhhh! She pulled me toward her and slammed me against the locker again as I felt the air get sucked out of my lungs.
“I’m gonna beat your ass right her and embarrass you, biker slut. Then, I’m gonna drag you downstairs and turn the showers on you.
“You can’t do this!” I shouted.
“Watch me.”
I knew the punch was coming but wasn’t quick enough to block it as the girl’s fist connected with my right eye. The thud echoed throughout the hallway as the back of my head hit the locker. This time when the girl pulled me forward, she rammed her athletic knee beaten my legs, sending tears to my eyes. I hunkered forward as the high school girl grabbed me around the neck, took me down to the floor and started pounding me in the face. All I could do was throw my thin arms and hands up in desperation as the girl hit me in the nose, mouth and side of the head. She was ruthless – and she'd bloodied me from forehead to chin. I felt humiliated getting beat up by a high school girl but couldn’t do anything about it.
“That’s what you get for selling drugs at my school, biker cxnt!”
I was lying on my back with blood dripping off my lips and side of my head. I lifted my head and looked at the girl, jaw slackened and hands limp on the floor. The girl smirked at me as she cocked her leg back and struck me in the crotch again, adding to the misery I already had in that precious zone.
“Ohhhhh!” I cried, as my head struck the floor. Seconds later, the girl stood over me and straddled me with her outstretched legs. She looked down in a cocky manner—arms akimbo, a wicked grin replacing the smirk.
“Had enough, blue jean bitch?”
“Please,” I whispered. I held my hands out in front of me, as tears welled in my eyes. “Just stop. I give.” She laughed. Seconds later, she grabbed me under the ass and by my chin and pulled me to my feet. I staggered as I stepped toward her and tried to slap her face. I wasn’t much of a fighter and the slap gave it away. The girl laughed as she landed a swift backhand across my jaw and sent me spinning to the floor.
I remember getting picked up, slammed into the locker and kneed in the ass twice before getting my tits rammed into the floor. I felt the girl grab my hair and grind my face across the floor tiles before I passed out.
When I came to, the girl hand me by the hair and was dragging me down the hallway. I screamed.
The girl chuckled. "Ain't nobody going to hear you up here. They're all down on the first floor in a meeting."
Seconds later, she dropped me to the floor. I panted as I heard some footsteps screeching across the tiles toward me.
“Take her down to the locker and give her the royal treatment. “
Seconds later, I got picked up off the floor by my armpits. I soon found back arched against some huge girl’s stomach as she dragged me down the hall by my bootheels, hands clenched tightly against my solar plexus. I could barely breathe.
At that point, I was dozing in and out of consciousness. I was scared shitless and worried but too weak to do anything about it. Through my slitted right eye, which I assumed at been pounded into a mush of black and blue, I saw the girl who’d beaten me standing twenty feet away. She was waving at me as if I were on my way to the gallows. I didn’t have much time to worry about my dire situation because I blacked out. This time when I came to, I was lying on the floor of the girl’s locker room—legs spread-eagled—as a group of girls stared down at me and giggled.
The fat girl, who I assumed had manhandled me, stepped forward. She had black stringy hair and had to weigh more than 300 pounds.
“You’re gonna to regret ever coming to this high school, biker cxnt. You hear me?” She chuckled -- stomach and chin fat jiggling -- as my bloody lips parted and heart hammered. I bit my lower lip. “I’ve eaten bitches your size for lunch.”
Seconds later, she stomped down on my bare stomach, clipping the belt buckle attached to my jeans. I winced and grimaced as I closed my eyes. The girl just laughed -- a deep guffaw that frightened me to death as did the girl's stare.
"You don't look so pretty any more, biker c*nt, and when I'm finished with you, you'll look much worse. That's if I don't crush the life out of you."
I didn’t say anything because I really feared for my life. Despite my reticence, the girl reached down, picked me up between my legs and carried me to the stall area across her beefy shoulders. I felt helpless and definitely was. Some of the girls jeered at me. One smacked my ass and squeezed the hell out of one of my buttocks. She didn't care. She had nothing to fear. I was there doing illegal business and the girls were going to take it out on my skinny hide.
"We own that ass now, you little cxnt," she said.
The last thing I remember was finding myself blowing bubbles in the toilet through my broken nose and lacerated mouth as the girl held my head in the water, trapping my the backs of my calves against the floor with her immense weight. At some point, I think I pissed my jeans.
To be continued if any interest
BMR
