A Difference in Handicap by Drew Powell

Disclaimer Written by Drew Powell

This story of fiction is not one of exploitation, rather a niche not usually covered. If possible, given credit where it’s due, there ought to be a translation in Braille too. All characters, as usual, are above the age of 18.

The day started as usual, well, as usual it can be for a Spring morning off campus of Brown University. My name is Sylvia Lattimer and I’m a sophomore on Brown, and am one of the students who attends the university as a blind person. This being a Friday, I followed my usual routine of going downstairs to collect my mail before preparing for the weekend at home, or, as of late, with my new boyfriend in Philadelphia, One of the letters had no sender or return address, and contained a short note: “Stay away from him, or else…”

Though I became slightly rattled, I decided to not report it to campus cops, the faint scent of perfume suggested it was a woman and that I can usually handle, in the sense that an honorable person wouldn’t get physical with a visually impaired person. Everything went normal as the day moved forward, so I decided to skip a class to read my favorite book in the library.

I was just about to begin the new chapter when I discovered something odd…even though the page was in Braille, it was definitely not part of the book and somebody has glued it on the usual page. Weirdly enough, it hasn’t followed that of a hostile tone as the other but it was still menacing, at least to me. She has announced that her name is Hannah, she goes to the Gallaudet University (the nation’s foremost college for deaf and mute people in D.C.) and that my boyfriend, the sociology major Derek is actually her boyfriend of long term. In no uncertain terms she has emphasized that she wishes to meet me over the weekend to discuss “details”.

She’s smart, I have to give her that. By making it seem like a civilized invitation, it can’t be classified as a threat, unless repeated. Well, if dance is what she wants… as a kid, I got bullied a lot so I decided to end that by learning to defend myself.


The next morning I’ve arrived in my hometown with the Amtrak train and shortly after leaving the station, a young woman has linked her hand with mine, signaling that she wishes to help me cross, but the slightly stronger scent of perfume gave it away who that is. I had wished I could just raise my white cane and strike her, but alas it would draw too much attention and get me into trouble. As the cab drove up, we got in and she activated the text to speech app, telling me that she “looked forward to” meeting my family, whom she befriended online in the past few weeks. I, on the other hand, looked forward to beat her senseless, deaf or not. What she actually planned however has exceeded my expectations.


After exiting the cab, I paid the driver and helped collect our luggage. I watched this girl with the shoulder long auburn hair move toward their house front and I’ve suddenly felt a sharp pain as she passed me by, “accidentally” hitting me with her white cane. Her 5’8” athletic figure was well hidden in her long overcoat, but it seemed that my Derek had a type, if we are to ignore that I’m strawberry blond with a long mane. My father named me Hannah because Splash was his favorite movie.

I wanted to shake the thought that Derek chose both of us as some kind of twisted experiment, where one of us can talk but never says much, the other can see, but was obviously blinded enough by love to not realize she’s being played.

Nevertheless, ever since I found their text exchanges, I’ve spent a few days to recon this girl and her family, with convincing them first that I too go to her university. It was only then that I’ve cased her out. Normally, as most women, I’d just dump his ass and move on, but I don’t like being taken for a fool, plus I had to make sure she wasn’t in on it, nor would pose a threat in the future. Thus fighting her here, today was pretty much a given.

After exchanging pleasantries, we settled in the living room and got to know each other better in person, and I had to admit, her family was quite nice, even if they raised a bitch of a daughter. If for nothing else, it’s a good exercise in making her sweat by having to explain in person how long we know each other. Yet, she went valiantly on the attack, trying to expose me, that only resulted in me using the intel I gathered on her to confirm us knowing each other well.


Nighttime came, and her family asked me to stay for the weekend which I sheepishly accepted, creating more chances to “interrogate” Sylvia. Making sure that the others went to sleep, I sneaked into her room, bringing only my phone and a scarf. As I expected, she wasn’t sleeping and almost proceeded to attack me, but I held her off, pushing her back on the bed. Being the same height and 145 lbs, I guessed her weight around 142 lbs and her breasts are slightly bigger, maybe a C cup, I gave her a third Braille note, which stated that our fight should be on equal footing, and that she can’t refuse or I’ll tell her family she’s the other woman of her boyfriend via a timed e-mail that will reach the inbox of her family tomorrow, unless I’m there to stop it.

We both had discarded our pajamas, I closed the curtain, put down the phone after using its light to find the scarves and I gagged Sylvia as she blindfolded me. The challenge was simple, no rules with the same shot at beating the opponent, whom one can’t see or hear if a strike happens.

I put that to the immediate test when I pushed her on the bed, and landing on top of her, I sought out her trimmed pubic region for some mauling. Her screams came only faintly through, but I couldn’t enjoy the advantage as she retaliated with feeling up my areola and pinching and twisting it. We rolled off of the bed and separated for a few seconds, I could sense that she seeks me out by my natural scent, so I tried to kick her, but she caught my leg and swept the other one, resulting in me landing on the floor with a thud. Not wanting to lose the momentum, she proceeded to pummel me with her fists from close proximity, perhaps she hoped I’d pass out. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt like hell, but I knew I had to reverse the situation, so once she grew tired enough to hold off punching me for a few seconds, I planted my legs in a scissor around her waist, grabbed both of her hands, pulled her closer and I bit into the skin on her nose, just strong enough so it hurts, but it doesn’t leave a permanent mark.

As I was done with that, she tried to free her hands so we entered into a test of strength that I seemed to win since I still applied my scissors on her. That feeling however proved to be premature as she, like the wild ox she is, started to pull her hands upwards with me in tow and head butted me, which in turn forced me to release my scissor hold. Once free, she viciously kicked in me in the pussy and I curled up in a ball. Taking advantage of my situation, she lifted me up and threw me back on the bed,.As she started to choke me, it was my turn to pinch and twist her nipple. She answered it with pulling my hair and we rolled off of it again, but there was no separation this time.

Whatever we could feel out, twist and pull, we did to maximally hurt the other, so much in fact, that I felt tears streaming down my face, its salt burning my skin. I had to end it any way I could, and I took advantage of the fact that she’s gagged, thus unable to bite me, I proceeded to bury her face in my B cups, and I held it there until she lost consciousness.

The next morning her mother confronted me about the loud noises and if I sensed anything, to which I lied that I didn’t. After I sat down to the breakfast table, Sylvia came up behind me and hugged me from behind. She told her mother that we decided to watch a movie on her laptop, hence the loud noises and she made very good friends with me. At that moment I realized that she adapted my moves and entered my game, her firm hug reassuring that maybe as soon as tonight we will have our rematch…

Post Scriptum Written by Drew Powell

In case there’s interest, I’ll write a follow-up to this story, within some planned for Derek. While I’m a jack of all trades, master of none type of creator, I did study some human sciences, like sociology, cultural anthropology, psychology to understand fellow human motivation to the point that I strive to transform readers into flies on the wall, doing stories of greater detail, which happen to have female fights in them. I wanted to do this story ever since I started to write 2 decades ago, after I recognized that from the most basic to more detailed, protagonists are still facsimiles of societal images, which rule out impairment for the most part. The moving force for me with this story wasn’t creating 2 such girls, rather to deliver a story to those fans, who have to rely on a separate system to process mostly the same content that the majority offers (such as Braille Playboy). It’s mainly for those, who wish to seek out something new, with a respectful focus on who the protagonists are, and not simply being a lip service by being what they are, filling a stereotype.

Thank you for reading! For more of Drew Powell’s Stories: Click Here!

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