Beanpole 2 - Clubbing
After the shellacking I gave Sharon, I became the Catfight Queen of the University. After what I had done to her, nobody wanted to challenge me for the crown. Suited me fine. I'm a dancer, not a fighter.
I did become a celebrity, which was a new experience for me. Knowing how much I liked “High Noon”, they’d given me a Sheriff badge with ‘Champ’ written on it. I was told I would have to defend the honour of the University. I figured I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.
Bet you thought you were going to hear about how I won my first fight and then how I rose through the ranks to become a champion Cat fighter or some other shitty story. No, it’s not gonna happen. I came here to get a degree, not participate in some underground fight league.
Look, sometimes you have to fight, I know that. But it should be something important. It shouldn't be for poxy bragging rights. Who gives a flying fuck about that?
Well...
Word got round that some slag from Shitville university was visiting at the weekend, looking for a fight. She was a big shot at her university and came here looking for someone who could give her a challenge. As champ I was expected to defend the honour of our University.
I wasn’t a great fan of fighting, see above. I’d fought Sharon ‘cos there was no way out of it. This slag would be going back to Shitville University or wherever in a couple of days; she couldn’t come after me. I was asked, of course. I got a nice little posse turn up to ask.
I said “No”.
Actually, I said, ‘Fuck it’,
However, 'cos I'm a nice person, I did what Gary Cooper would do, I deputised Sharon. I presented her with my Badge and told her it was up to her to defend the honour of our university. She actually seemed honoured. I fucked her up pretty bad, she'd had to spend a couple of days in A and E (Accident and Emergency, it’s what we call the ER in English). She thought this would be a great way of getting back into the saddle, so to speak. Problem solved, everybody happy.
'Cept my offer to get Sharon back in the saddle turned into another hospital pass for her.
Bailey told me all about it at a local nightclub a week later. We were there for Nigel’s birthday. No, I didn’t know who Nigel was, but since I’d become a celebrity, I got invited to all these things, and since I never got invited to any parties, I was determined to make up for lost time. I went with Bailey and her new fella. She was telling me how Sharon got beaten up by Victoria.
"Sharon was in her black tank top and denim shorts. Victoria...". That's the girl from Shitsville University. "…She just wore a black bikini, which really showed off her assets. Christ, she’d even oiled up her body for the fight. But I guess if you’ve got a body like that, you’d show it off too”. She said wistfully. I stayed silent, I just stared down at my non-existent breasts and thought 'yeah'.
Apparently, fighting made her feel horny, I heard that after the fight, she took one of the boys who'd cheered for her and fucked his brains out”.
"Slut!" I tutted. No, not jealous, no, not at all. I never had the thought that after I beat Sharon, nobody offered to give me a victory fuck. I never had the thought that it would have been so cool, winning your first fight and getting your first fuck. The thought never entered my mind. And no, I didn’t imagine my glistening, moist, sweat-covered body riding some massive rock-hard cock into a thunderous orgasm. No, not at all.
"Yeah, anyway, where was I?" Bailey broke the reverie, which I wasn't having.
"The fight", I reminded her, see, I wasn't daydreaming.
"Oh yeah, it was all going pretty evenly. Until they went for the tits. Sharon always used to boast she had the toughest tits on campus. She forgot Victoria's not from around her. At first, they furiously worked each other's breasts over, then Sharon started crying, she looked in trouble, then she whimpered. Then not much else when Vicki kneed her in the crotch".
"Sharon was on the floor, Vicki jumped on top of her, and then Vicki worked her over, good. After beating her senseless, as the finishing touch, she jugged Sharon out".
"Jugged?" I asked.
"Yeah you smoother someone to unconsciousness with your boobies. You gotta be built for it. But let's face it, Vicki's stacked"
"Aw, probably plastic", I muttered. Not jealous at all.
"After she celebrated her victory with the jugging, she said how disappointed she was ‘cos she didn’t get the Beanpole, whom she’d heard so much about".
"Yeah, shame that". I smirked. “Yeah, she's back at Shitsville University or whatever it's called”.
Bailey leaned in, looking concerned.
"The thing is, she's like Sharon; she won't let it go. I know what these people are like, I’m one of them…” She smiled weakly. “… Any refusal to fight is a sign of weakness and disrespect. She’s not gonna let this lie. It wouldn’t surprise me…”
"Hey, Beanpole!"
I turned. It was a dark-haired girl in a hoodie and yoga pants. Suddenly, the crowd moved out of the way. There was now nothing standing between me and this woman.
Shit, shit, shit.
Everybody in the crowd turns to look at me. There was no hiding in a corner. I stood up.
"The name's Melody, actually"
"I'm Victoria, the girl you sent your minion to deal with. She was such a shit fighter I came back especially to fuck you up. You little chicken shit!".
Victoria shimmied out of her hoodie and yoga pants to reveal she was just wearing a black bikini. The same bikini she wore when she fought Sharon. Her body was oiled. She’d come dressed up for a show, hadn’t she?
Slut.
The neon light of the club made her oiled-up body look. Incredible. I felt overdressed in my modest yellow T-shirt and shorts. Well, I would do if I was a slut, but I'm not. Then I noticed on one of her bra cups a badge. It was the badge I'd given Sharon when I 'deputised' her. She saw me looking.
"This?...". She flirtatiously pointed at the badge.
"...Oh, I always like to take a little souvenir from my victories. I'm just thinking what I'm gonna take from you..."
"...that yellow T-shirt...figures it would be yellow...ppp"
"...or perhaps those shorts..."
"...or maybe your virginity!". Shit. That's not the victory fuck I had in mind.
Then Hugh bloody Jackman, the Greatest Showman and would-be ringmaster, appeared.
"Ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, we have the University challenge..."
"…In this corner", he pointed at me," we have our reigning champion, Melody Anderson"
Cheers.
"And over here we have the challenger, Victoria McKensie".
A surprising number of cheers. She’d brought friends, hadn’t she? Or maybe it was all the men hoping for a free fuck if she won.
The big fitted freak lifted her bra and gave everybody a flash of her tits. For those of you who lived in a cave and didn't realise she had any.
"Usual rules...there aren't any..."
"...Victory by submission..." boos from the audience.
"...or KO." Cheers from the audience. Bloodthirsty lot aren't they?
"Ladies..."
"...Fight!"
Was it even Nigel’s birthday? Did this Nigel even exist? I’d been set up, hadn’t I? I fumed as I removed my shoes.
"You're gonna fight dressed like that?" the bikini-clad, big-titted freak enquired.
"Yes", I answered. 'Cos I'm not a cheap slut.
"Okay, suit yourself". She shrugged, "If I had a body like that, I'd keep it covered up, too"
Fuck off and die, bitch. It was hard to like her.
I thought about my predicament. I realised that if I didn't fight back, I'd just get beaten up. I'd get beaten up if I lost as well, but at least I'd get the chance to put some hurt on her. Maybe she'd be too sore to enjoy her victory fuck.
The crowd cleared away to make space as Victoria, plastic tits, moved towards me as I moved back. Looking around, I saw Bailey looking stunned, “I didn’t know, I swear”, she mouthed.
I felt my back hit the wall, I was trapped. Plastic tits grinned.
"Nowhere to run to, senorita, nice lady". She mocked.
"Looks like you're gonna have to fight!"
Okay.
She swung her fist.
I ducked.
As her fist hit the wall, she screamed.
I kicked her in the stomach. She gasped, doubling over as she staggered back, clasping her belly. I followed her. Swinging my fist up, it smashed into her face. Her head swung up, it was bloody.
I was doing well. Last time, I had gotten pounded at the start of the fight. And I still won. This time...
I went to point and prepared myself for a kick. Goodnight plastic tits. I swung, and her grinning head moved back; my foot sailed harmlessly past her. As it sailed past, she grabbed it. Upending me, I fell on my back. From above, she pressed my leg back, trying to cripple me. Tough shit bitch, I do this for exercise! I cried out to make her think she had hurt me. But I’d had enough when the bitch tried to stuff my toes down my open mouth. I kicked with my other foot into the side of her head, which got her off me.
I rolled to go back into the attack, our bodies crashed together as we tumbled to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. Our bodies entwined, we rolled over and over, yanking on each other’s hair and striking each other in the face and head with punches while our legs battled for supremacy. The crowd offering helpful suggestions.
“In the face! In the face!”
“Elbows! Elbows!”
We were both lying on our sides, now, facing each other. She growled, swinging a loping left hook at my face. I felt my lips burst open. I swung a right into her torso. We lay on our sides, wailing away at each other, our fists slamming into flesh.
Changing my target, I swung up at her left tit. It flew out of her bra cup, almost hitting her face. She cried out. Then I noticed she was lying on her side, and the other tit was lying on the floor. I swung my body and brought my fist down on that blubbery tit. Those heavy hooters were squelched against the floor. Oh, how she screamed. So I continued my pounding, like I was hammering in a nail. She was going for my face, but I was tenderising that tits. I swung again. She screamed as my knuckles dug into that flabby udder, told ya I’m not jealous. I swung again. Splat! I was gonna pound them into pancakes.
She screamed. Her feet were scrambling on my legs. So, I twisted my legs around her left leg and squeezed. Trapping them. Then I twisted my body, stretching her legs with me. She screamed again.
She swung a punch into my stomach. I jack-knifed, clutching at my belly. I released her leg, and she rolled away. As I lay on my back, gasping. I saw her try to stand up, her legs gave out, and I congratulated myself on a job well done.
She finally got her legs working. So reluctantly, I got up. She circled me, limping. I made a point of skipping away from her. Her bra was hanging around her waist, those giant-sized fun-bags of hers had been released. That left one was black and blue and distinctly battered, but still...for a moment, I stood transfixed by those breasts jiggling free, like nature intended. I remembered a rhyme from a TV program when I was a kid.
Jelly on a plate, jelly on a plate, wibble wobble, wibble wobble, jelly on a plate
I snapped myself out of my trance.
“Nice tits”, I snarked, “But that left one looks a lot less perky”, I grinned, "Are they insured?"
“Fucking cow”, she snarled.
Her hands shot out. She swung me by the arm, pulling my belly into her raised knee. I gagged. She grabbed me by the hair, throwing me to the floor. I raised myself on my hands and knees. She stepped back and kicked me in the stomach. I was flipped onto my back. I wheezed, holding my poor bruised belly.
I rolled onto my front and raised myself onto hands and knees. The bitch jumped onto my back. She started pulling my head back by the hair and launching fists into my face.
“Not so fucking lippy are we now bitch…” as her fists collided with my face.
“…you’re going home in a fucking body bag”. Another fist rattled my teeth.
“Some of that Micro-plastic from you tits is affecting your brain” I croaked back.
"Fuck you, they're real. Flat chested freak!"
The weight of her body was pressing on my back as her fists swung for my face. I held out my hands to stop them, but it didn’t work.
“Fuck you’re fat!” I groaned defiantly. The bitch was hurting me bad. But I’d hurt her too. That bitch was gonna know she’d been in a fight.
My hands scrambled behind me. She didn't care. She did care when I got a fistful of tenderised tit and squeezed, digging my fingers into her sore flesh. She screamed. I pistoned my legs, flipping her back, with me on top. I fired my left elbow into her stomach, my right, into her tits.
She got her legs around my waist and squeezed. Shit. I had my back to her. I couldn't attack. Then I felt the bitch reaching for my T-Shirt and pulling it up over my head. I felt a cool breeze on my nipples and then the thud of her fist hitting my head. Then her other hand reached for my pokie, my nipple and squeezed. I screamed as the white-hot agony shot through me.
She started cackling as she slowly worked me over. She pulled at my poor pokies, seeing how far she could stretch them. I wiggled and writhed trying to free myself from the T-shirt the bitch had used against me.
Eventually, I got free. I shrieked, realising I was topless, my arms going to cover my breasts. Plastic tits started slapping me with my shirt. I flailed with my arms, trying to stop her. I couldn't see what she was doing behind me. She wrapped the T-shirt around my throat and pulled. I gasped.
"Little chickenshit, sending someone else to do what you were too scared to do!".
She pulled harder. I couldn't fucking breathe! I pulled at the material with my hands. Things were getting spacy. It was getting haaaarrrd to t h i n n k.
Through the haze, I reached for her big toe, pulled back with all my strength and twisted. She screamed. I planted my feet on the floor and pushed back. I fell on my back with plastic tits under me I slammed my head back. I felt something break, then I heard a scream.
"Biiiiiiitch!"
Her leg scissors loosened, and I pulled her feet apart. Before I rose I smashed my elbows into her tits, again. Left tit, right tit. Digging my elbows in.
I rose as quickly as I could, coughing all the way. I turned to face her. I set myself up for a spin kick, a Maia Luz de costas. But the bitch span on her arse, her legs swept into mine. I tripped, falling to the floor.
I rose onto my knees. The bitch was already on hers, she swung, hitting me in the ribs. I fell to my hands. I could hear her coming up behind me on her knees. Blindly, I punched behind me, hitting her in the jaw.
Her reply was a punch to my face, my mouth spewed spittle.
I joined my hands together and swung at her head. It smashed to the side as she sprayed spittle all over the floor.
“Slut!”. I muttered.
She turned to face me, baring her blood-soaked teeth. She looked like a feral animal, naked in just her bikini bottoms. The job I’d done on her tits, I guessed she wouldn’t be able to wear a bra for a couple of weeks.
Me? I was swaying on my knees, in nothing but my yellow shorts. My battered and bruised body positively glowed with all the sweat I was shedding, it mixed with the blood that was coming off my nose, lip and above my eyes.
We were both exhausted. We couldn’t do anything too clever, even if we wanted to; it was just a test of endurance now.
She swung a fist up into my chin, my head shot up, and my teeth rattled. I staggered back on my knees. I tried hard to stay up. Just hurt her more, hurt her more, was all I could think.
"Tramp!"
I swung an upper cut into her belly. Something rather slimy oozed out of her mouth.
"Dirty minger!"
She slapped my face, it sounded like a gunshot. My body twisted to the side. My cheeks burned red, raw.
We stared at each other, both struggling for breath. Everybody had gone silent, taken aback by the war of attrition we were engaged in.
"Had enough yet, you skinny piece of shit?" She asked.
"No fucking way!". This was how I would feel when I was halfway through my fifty push-ups. I was knackered but still determined to finish. And I always finished.
I joined my hands together, like I was swinging an axe. Right into the side of her head. Even though she was on her knees, she still struggled for balance.
"Skank!"
She punched straight out at my breast. Fuck it hurt. I moaned.
"Whore!"
I upper cutted her right hooter. It looked like it would fly off her body.
She grabbed my arm, twisted it and pulled me into two rapid-fire punches to my face.
"Whack!"
"Whack!"
I left-hooked her tit. It distorted around my fist. She cried out in pain, releasing my trapped limb. So, I right-hooked her face. It made a wet smacking sound. My fist was covered in blood, none of it was mine. I looked at her, giving a pleased look.
For a second, she looked at me, growled and then pulled me by the hair, pulling my head into hers. There was a crack like two billiard balls colliding. The white-hot pain shot through me. Reeling from the shock, I pulled my head back, stunned.
While I was still getting my brain together. She let out a whoop and threw her arms around my waist, trapping my arms and squeezing. I gasped, trying to move my arms.
“Fucking got you, now. Tiny tits”. She gloated; she thought she had me.
She stood up, taking me up with her. I groaned. I felt like my ribs were breaking. Keeping on the pressure with one arm, she started clubbing my head with the other. The blows were hard, disorientating. I could feel my eyes glazing over. It couldn’t get any worse, could it?
Then she stuffed my head into those great honking melons of hers.
As she wiggled, looking for that perfect seal. My senses were overwhelmed by the musky, sweaty flesh, cutting me off from precious oxygen. I panicked, I couldn't fucking breathe! I'm suffocating! The bitch was chortling, her fans cheering her on. She loved this, but for me, it was incredibly humiliating. But I wasn't out of it yet. My brain scrambled for a way to freedom. Computing...computing...my brain gave me two solutions. I tried to decide between the two...computing...Then it occurred to me, why not take both?
As my knee crashed into her crotch, with the dull crack of bone on bone. My teeth chowed down on that left tenderised udder of hers. I chowed down on her aureole, trying to cram as much of it as I could into my mouth. The pain from her crotch made her sink to her knees. Unfortunately, I still had my teeth in her tits. Oops! She was being held up by my teeth on her breast. Those udders stretched, my, how she howled.
I eventually let go with my teeth, leaving a bloody bite mark on those tits she was so proud of. She collapsed to the floor, whimpering.
I'd fucked her good. Now to put her out of her misery.
I grabbed her by the hands, picked her up and swung her around, slamming her tits first, into the wall. As she bounced off the wall (those fucking tits!), I threw in a stomp to her back just for good measure. She staggered back from the wall on unsteady feet. While she tried to get her brain to work, I jumped up, wrapping my legs like steel cords around her waist and started squeezing. I pulsed my legs hard until she gasped. Then I pulled her head back hard by the hair, her neck bent at an unnatural angle. She groaned.
She was staggering, trying to bash me into the wall, but it's not too easy to move with a beanpole hanging off your back. I twisted my body. She stumbled and fell on her arse to the floor. Good.
She tried to pull my legs from around her waist, no fucking chance.
Did I ever tell you how my BMI said I was overweight at school? Yeah fat. I had to go see a doctor. He looked at me and said, Yeah, 'cos it was all muscle. I’m overweight for my height ‘cos muscle weighs more than fat. This is who you're dealing with, bitch. You mistook ‘don't want to fight’ for ‘can't fight’. And now you'll find out. This is going to end, and I’m the one who’s gonna end it.
I gave her tenderised tit a nice little squeeze, really getting my fingers in there, kneading them like dough. She tried to pull my hands away, I slapped her hands off. My fans are cheering me on, while her fans are desperately pleading with her to fight back. They were pleading in vain, her moans got louder. I’d had my fun, now for the finishing touch.
My arm went around her neck, and I squeezed, just like Bailey showed me, 'if you really, really want to put a bitch down' she said, and yes I bloody did! The bitch had tried to do this twice to me, with my T-Shirt and with her tits. No mercy for you, bitch. Her eyes widened in fear when she realised what I was going to do. Hysterically, her hands went for my arm, desperately trying to pull it away, to stop what was coming. She wined. I whispered into her ear.
"You've lost bitch..."
"...I beat you".
She wailed louder, and her hands scrambled even more uselessly at my arm. Her sweat and oil-covered body writhed and wiggled like her life depended on it. You ain't going nowhere, bitch.
I started singing, gently, ever so sweetly.
Rock-a-bye, baby, in the treetop
She was pulling at my arm, tears streaming down her face. She was finished, and she knew it. I felt a wet trickle run down my leg. Not so horny now, are we? She wasn’t that tough fighter anymore, just a frightened little girl.
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.
Her pulling at my arm was getting weaker now, the writhing not so much. The thought occurred to me that I could make her beg, I could end her, permanently. I was revelling, luxuriating in the power, the knowledge of what I had done to another human being. Me. ME! Later, I would ask myself if that was a person I wanted to be, but for now, that answer was yes. Oh God, yes.
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall
As I felt her fade, I felt the excitement. God, my nipples were rock-hard.
And down will come baby, cradle and all.
Her pulling stopped, and her eyes fluttered closed. All resistance wiped out, she slumped back, landing on top of me, like so much dead meat. I didn’t care. I lifted her hands from the floor. When they flopped uselessly down, I knew she was done. Slowly, her black and blue wobbling breasts. Jelly on a plate, jelly on a plate, wibble wobble, wibble wobble, jelly on a plate, came to rest. She was at peace.
I clambered out from under her, slowly and stood. Did I win? Shouldn't I feel...Last time, I remember being elated, full of adrenaline. This time I feel...God, I'm exhausted...I hurt in places I didn't even know I had places. I think the crowd is shouting my name, but they seem so far away. Did I win? Then I look down at the one person even more fucked up than me. Yeah, I won.
One more thing. I slowly bent down to her discarded bikini top and removed the badge.
I held it aloft for all to see.
“And this is for setting me up!” I announced.
"You guys set me up. You took away my choice. I will not have that. I WILL NOT HAVE THAT".
I threw the badge on the floor.
“I quit!”
I've got to. That's the whole thing. My long-anticipated victory fuck would just have to wait.
I woulda made a big speech but fuck it. Gary Cooper never had any last words in High Noon, either.
As I walked out, Bailey ran over to me.
"Your jacket...",
"...And your T-shirt, you don't want to walk home dressed or not dressed, like that".
She handed me the clothes. I put them on.
"What they did was really shitty. I didn't know it was set-up. They shouldn't, you're not a pinner, they shouldn't have assumed...they should have made...".
"What's a Pinner?" I asked.
"I could tell ya, but then I'd have to kill ya..." She smiled.
"...it's nothing".
"Where's your beau gone?" I asked.
"He's cool, I told him we needed some girl time...".
"...how are you feeling?"
"I'll live".
"Well, I read a book once that said women always look their best in the peace and quiet that follows a storm of violence". She said with a straight face.
"That's pretty good. Would've been much nicer if you'd thought of that yourself". I said.
"Well, as a matter of fact, I did". She said. No, she didn't. She's repeating a scene from one of my favourite movies.
"Don't quote Jimmy Stewart to ME!..." I glared at her.
"...Fuck you" I snarled.
"Fuck you, too" she replied.
"Fuck you, to the moon and back". I told her.
"Fuck you, to infinity and back", was her response.
"Fuck you, to infinity and back, a quadrillion, zillion times!", there, beat that!
"That's the same as infinity, stupid!". She thought she was being smart.
"No, some infinities are bigger than others...".
"...That's maths, stupid!", I declared.
"That's stupid...stupid!" was her verdict.
"Fuck you!". I said.
"Fuck you, too!". She said.
"I wish I was getting fucked too!", I shouted. That was enough to crack Bailey up.
We collapsed together, giggling. I looked at her. Tears of laughter were running down our cheeks.
"Well, might as well go the whole hog or nothin'. How about you and me havin' a dance together, Frenchy?" I said Doing my best, Jimmy Stewart.
"Oh, I think I'll stick around. Y'know, I had a friend who used to collect postage stamps. He always said the one good thing about a postage stamp: it always sticks to one thing 'til it gets there, y'know? I'm sorta like that too". She said doing her best, Jimmy Stewart, too, which was better than mine.
"I love that film". I declared. 'Destry Rides Again' in case you were wondering.
"Well, you're a little Tom Destry, aren’t cha?..." she smiled, brushing my sweaty hair off my face.
"...for someone who doesn't want to fight you sure kick some serious arse..."
"...Wanna get a drink?"
"Aww, just one. I've got a visit to A and E tomorrow".
"Want me to come with? We can do some retail therapy after. It's time you got some sexy threads. It’s my project to get you laid.".
"Okay, Uber to the university?"
"Yeah! Let's get away from these tossers".
As we walked to the taxi, she asked.
"Well, were her tits real?"
"Dunno", I replied.
"Well, you punched them enough times"
"I’d never punched a tit before, what it supposed to feel like?"
"Ha, I fought this girl who ‘magically’ went from B-Cups to F-Cups over half-term holidays"
"Didn't anybody say anything?"
"I did, that's why we fought..."
"...anyway, I uppercutted the boobies and they didn't move..."
"...felt like I was punching a rubber tyre..."
"...unfortunately, she had a glass jaw..."
"...course that wasn't the worst. One time I was scrapping with this girl..."
"...ripped her top off..."
"...falsies".
"Shit!"
"Yeah, she was so mortified. I finished her off with a left hook, right hook combo"
"Lorem ipsum" I said.
Fade to Black...The End...Roll credits.
