A Note by Rival’s:
This is a Sequel to Porcelain Dolls. If You Haven’t Read That Story Yet, You Should.
Janet’s fingers gently spread my swollen labia lips. Her tongue slipped deeper, curling and exploring along my soft walls. Teasing me. My legs stretched out, my hips and ass lifted up from my bed; tensing until I felt that my muscles would tear and burst apart. I grabbed her blonde hair and dug my claws into her scalp. The building orgasm that had been coiling tighter and tighter within me contracted into a yet smaller, denser mass. Until it had to expand. Twisting around, faster and faster; unwinding, growing, radiating through my hips, flowing down my legs, shooting up through my belly and to my tits. It stabbed into my suddenly aching nipples from inside. My toes curled into tight, painful balls. My breathing became loud, frantic gasps. Sweat beaded on my forehead and upper lip as my head tilted back.
Then there was a blink. A nothingness. I was empty. The big bang within tore a scream from my lips, flashed through me like an exploding star. My body spasmed over and over. The wild jerking of my hips battered Janet’s face. The grip on her hair clenched and released over and over as wave after wave swamped me, buried me under a foaming liquid tidal wave. It washed tears into her eyes from my painful grip on her scalp as my personal orgasmic tsunami engulfed her. I watched her wipe them away when she finally sat up.
Spent, my body collapsed on my bed. My large brown tits rippled as my ragged breathing finally settled back into a regular rhythm. I wiped the sweat from my face with my hands, allowing Janet to slide back, ass resting on her heels. She pushed herself up with her left hand and wiped my nectar from her mouth with the right. We looked at each other. There was hurt, shame, a strange, hungry sense of arousal, and something I couldn’t quite place in her expression. I looked over at the half circle of mirror that rested above the girlish vanity that had been in my room since I was a child. The electronic clock told me that is was 8:35 AM. The mirror told me that I was sweaty, blotchy looking; that I was a bit overwhelmed.
And slightly disappointed.
This was not what I expected. Since our fight, my imagination had been filled with an angry Janet Marshall storming over to my house while my parent’s worked, demanding a rematch. I expected all the heat and fury from our first encounter, our naked bodies clenched together again as she tried to avenge the humiliating loss I gave her. Instead she appeared meek, took my hand and asked me to lead her to my bedroom. We undressed in silence and she submitted to me in ways I never expected.
I looked over to the porcelain doll sitting in its chair. The expression on the face was blank; blue glass eyes were flat and lifeless. Had it truly captured her soul I wondered?
“Slap me,” Janet said. her voice was quiet, but quite sure of itself.
I looked at her, slightly confused.
“Slap me,” she said, her voice close to the quietly commanding tone I remember hearing my entire life. “Slap me hard.”
I sat up and my right hand flashed between us, striking her cheek.
“Harder,” the iron in her voice this time was surprising, given what she was asking.
My second slap coiled and struck like a cobra. It rocked her head, almost knocking her to her side. Janet’s hand shot up to cover her cheek. My palm stung and I felt pangs of guilt when she looked at me, new tears in her eyes. She nodded once, then silently got up and dressed; leaving my room without a backward glance. I got up and went to the window at the top of the stairs, watching her shapely hips sway and her firm, round ass cheeks rise and fall during her secret walk back to her house.
I wasn’t sure what had happened, but told myself it was over now.
After Janet left, I showered and ate a light breakfast. Looking at the clock, I debated fitting a work out in, but finally decided against it. That would just mean another shower and I needed to be at work in a few hours. I felt that it would probably be good for me to stretch just a bit, so I did some yoga in the living room.
Private negotiations had occurred between my parent’s and my aunt and uncle. For yet another summer, I would be working at my uncle’s restaurant. This had been a tradition since I was 16. Part of me felt restless, felt that I needed to be doing something more challenging, more appropriate to my major. But part of me was also comforted. This was simple. This was family.
I put on a pair of jeans and a fairly loose t-shirt. My aunt, Gauri, and uncle, Vihaan, didn’t mind my curvy body generating a little interest among the customers. They absolutely insisted, however, that they were running a family friendly restaurant and I needed to make sure it stayed that way.
It was about a twenty minute drive to work. I parked my red Mercedes in one of the back parking lot’s spaces farthest away from the heavy back door. There was a little tension between my aunt and uncle and my parent’s over their respective social status. We were supposed to all be equal, but my dad obviously earned much more and there were various hints of wounded pride. Anything I could do to downplay this difference was generally considered a good thing. At least as much as a red Mercedes could be viewed as downplaying anything.
Walking in through the back entrance was like stepping into a pool of curry. The scent almost had a life of its own, one that involved a lot of clanging of pans and loud snippets of Kannada, the native language of my family. My uncle, his brother and oldest son all worked as the cooks behind the stainless steel counter where my aunt handled inspecting and distributing the dishes to the wait staff.
“Mala, you were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago,” my aunt complained as she hurried about in her normal, frenzied way.
“No, auntie,” I replied. “I am right on time. You keep insisting the lunch crowd won’t start showing up until 11:30.”
“Well they are here now and Dineesha has been seating the guests and trying to keep up with the dishes,” my aunt complained.
As I tied my apron stocked with pens and checked to make sure I had a pad with enough tickets, I glanced over to the cramped dish station. The tall, pretty black girl, her hair pulled back tight over her head and then flaring out against the back of her neck and flowing down to her shoulders moved quickly through the stack of dishes. She effortlessly loaded up a rack for the sanitizer, shoving it in and starting the machine with a practiced grace.
Dineesha was a tall, athletic young woman about my age. I guessed her to be just under about 5’10”. She had long legs and slim hips, but her ass curved and out into a large bubble behind her. A narrow waist flared out to broad shoulders and a pair of healthy boobs jiggled and jostled as she moved. Her face was very pretty, but almost icily reserved.
“She should be a waitress, not a dishwasher,” I said as I headed toward the swinging doors that headed out to the dining area.
“Oh, happy day,” my aunt mocked me from behind, clapping her hands together. “Let me call my brother and tell him to stop wasting money on that expensive college education. Mala is now ready to save her backward relatives and run our humble restaurant!”
I smirked and glanced over toward Dineesha. My mother always begged me to keep my mouth shut about the business. This job was a favor to us and I should not abuse their kindness. Yet I wanted to get a reaction from Dineesha. She started working as a dishwasher last summer, and had been a reliable, but very quiet, employee. She kept her head down, working through the stack dishes, ignoring the exchange between my aunt and me. She was almost too quiet, too watchful. I don’t think I ever saw her make a mistake back in the kitchen, but I never saw her smile either.
Well, I tried, I told myself.
Outside, there was a flurry of movement. Most of the crowd was here for the lunchtime buffet gorge-a-thon. They moved from their tables to the line of chafing dishes, filled up another plate, then went back to their seat. Weaving through the bodies, I checked the stack of plates and the fullness of the metal dishes containing food. For the moment we were ok, except for the rice. All this food, I thought to myself, and everyone fills up on the rice.
I put on a smile and went from table to table, refilling water and tea glasses, answering questions about what they were eating. I was just generally charming. You had to be quick, you had to stay focused, and you always seem like you were happy to see the customers. It was not as easy as it sounds, but I was good at it.
The rush lasted until about 1:30. I watched them come, then stagger away bloated with way more food than they should have ever attempted to eat. We were like Vegas. The customers were always thinking of ways to make this work for them, and we’re always banking their money at the end of the day.
I felt a vibration on my ass after the crowd died down and I had a chance to sit and start reconstructing folded napkin table settings for the dinner rush. I wiggled my phone out of my tight—but not too tight for my aunt’s ever watchful eyes— jeans. It was Chilling. For a moment I was torn. She was a cute, and I liked talking to her, but she was not the target. Her ice dragon of a mother was my potential prey, and I needed to be careful how closely I bonded with her daughter this early in the game. If the mother dragon withdrew because I pushed too hard, I would never have a second chance.
“Working. Talk tonight?” I typed in an IM to her number. I looked up as I started to jam my phone back into my ass pocket, cursing the fact that women’s clothes can never have real pockets. I saw Dineesha reloading the spring loaded plate dispensers at the head of the buffet line. I tried to smile and give her a little shrug, but I only got the same deadpan look she always gave me as she wiped her wet hands on the towel she tucked into her belt and then headed back to the kitchen.
The rest of my shift went through stops and starts until about 5 when the dinner crowd started coming in. This required more face time from me. The buffet had been cleared away and these people wanted menus, entrees and service. I kept up with it, and Dineesha just kept chugging along. Finally Ravi and Peeta—two more members of my aunt and uncle’s family—came in and started to take over. By about 6 they had everything under control and I was finishing up. They got the shifts with the better tips, but I was just temporary summer help
My mom made it very clear I was supposed to keep my mouth shut and just be grateful for whatever I was able to get here. There was a lot of complicated family negotiations going on and there was always the risk that I could come off as the spoiled daughter of parents that had forgotten where they had come from.
As I took off my apron and finished up counting out my tips, I folded a couple bills and handed them to Dineesha as I casually walked past her. “This is for working out front before I came in,” I whispered, giving her a quick smile. I knew that restaurant protocol was she didn’t get any of the shared tip pool because she was just a dishwasher. She uttered a quick, quiet thanks, but there still wasn’t any smile or change of expression.
My uncle came back through the swinging doors into the kitchen, rubbing his large hands over his face. He typically took a short nap in the late afternoon and then would work through the rest of the night. The restaurant was successful, but he always had to prove he worked harder than my dad.
“Dineesha, I need to have you come in early tomorrow and clean the filters in the hood,” he said, pausing next to me. “The health inspector is coming in on Monday and I don’t want that bastard finding anything to complain about.”
I saw Dineesha’s shoulders sag for just a bit. Her expression did not change, but I knew she hated this news. Cleaning the hood filters was a horrible, greasy, messy job involving chemicals that burned like acid.
“I can do it, uncle,” I said. “I’ve seen it done before and I want to put aside a bit more money. If that’s ok with you.”
That last statement was crucial. This had to be his decision. There was a moment of private calculation. Then he smiled.
“Good for you, Mala! It’s always a good thing for someone your age to know that you have to work to get ahead in this world,” He patted my head and walked back toward the kitchen.
I looked over toward Dineesha, hoping to get some sort of sign from her.
“Thanks,” she said in a deadpan voice, refusing to make eye contact as she returned to loading up a rack for the dish sanitizer.
Well, no good deed goes unpunished, I told myself as I turned to leave. I didn’t know why, but I really felt that I had to earn this girl’s approval. She had worked here in the same position when I worked here last summer. There was a quiet story that she was taking classes at the community classes; that my uncle was helping to pay her tuition. For whatever reason, I felt like I had to prove to her that I wasn’t just the spoiled niece, but I could never crack the impassive wall she wound around herself.
I groaned as my alarm went off. Searching blindly for my phone, I finally managed to turn it off. Flopping onto my back, arms spread, I gazed at the ceiling and cursed myself for trying to impress someone who obviously wasn’t capable of being impressed by me.
I didn’t bother to shower or do anything other than pull my hair back in a ponytail and tie a black bandana around my head. Finding my oldest t-shirt and raggediest cutoffs, I put on a pair of white cloth slipons and headed out.
As I pulled out of the driveway, I saw a black Mustang 5.0 parked in front of Janet’s house. When I saw a Westborough Military Academy bumpersticker on the back bumper I rolled my eyes and my heart sunk. Katrina Simms, Jacob Marshall ’s rabidly aggressive, latently dyke cousin was visiting. Katrina grew up on the wild, angry ledge of some mental cliff and had never been any fun to be around when Jacob and I were forced to spend time with her. The only silver lining to her perpetual black cloud was that I could always leave and go home. I truly felt sorry for Jacob when she visited. I privately flipped off the black car as I drove away, changing my mind about Jacob staying with this dad for the next couple weeks. I decided that it was a good thing. I also felt confident that it would not be a tough task to avoid the blonde kamikaze ranger while he was gone.
Cleaning the filters was just about as gross as I imagined. I laid a long metal tray over the flattop grills to protect them and unfastened the metal mesh monsters one at a time. Cleaning each one with a very corrosive cleaner, I felt a couple stinging burns on my forearms above the floppy rubber gloves I wore when I sprayed them off in the big sink back where Dineesha worked. It took over two hours to finish and I was a sweaty mess as I latched the last one back into place. Even though I was working the buffet shift in a few hours, I was very happy to be heading out the door.
“Wasted effort completed,” I muttered to myself as I turned off the lights and let the heavy backdoor swing shut with a click. I tugged on the door handle, making sure it didn’t move.
Turning around, I saw the black Mustang parked next to my red Mercedes. Katrina, tightly muscled and sporting an intimidating near crew cut with just a fringe of blonde hair sweeping at an aggressive angle down across her forehead, lounged against my car. Standing about 5’7”, her impressively muscled arms crossed over her large rack and her long, thick but shapely legs spread out in a way that stretched her tight red booty shorts so that a plump camel toe was visible. The tight black tank top with the shield shaped logo of Westborough did nothing to hide sculpted shoulders and upper arms, round tits and impressively narrow waist. The black ray ban sunglasses seemed a bit of an overkill. I had to imagine the blazing intensity of her blue eyes. A taller brown haired girl, dressed in a flowered summer dress that flowed loosely down to mid thigh stood next to Katrina. She was not as muscled, and was actually kind of pretty—with soft green eyes and slightly pouty lips, but the fact she stood next to Katrina was intimidating just the same.
“You look like crap, Mala,” Katrina said as she pushed off from the side of my car and walked toward me. “You slumming today?”
Holding my keys between my fingers, I didn’t say anything and started to walk toward my car. Katrina cut me off. I felt a second of panic as our bodies bumped together. Her large boobs slipped over mine, pressing down on them. I felt the weight of her tits and was forced to look up at her. That mass of boobs extended up just past my shoulders and made it suddenly feel like I was standing defenseless in deep water. The rest of my body felt detached, no longer visible. As if she sensed my discomfort, Katrina leaned into me, a slight smirk playing over her lips as if she had already won this confrontation.
“So what’s up with you and my aunt?” the blonde asked. Her voice was low, threatening. I prepared to give her my blank, I don’t know what you’re talking about look, but then I remembered the slap and the reddish mark on Janet’s cheek. I guessed that it was probably a noticeable bruise by now.
“That’s between her and me,” I replied. I pushed against her, my hands deliberately cupping her boobs. A shocked look flitted across her face. She was a bit off balance, shifting back to give into my grip on her boobs. Unfortunately, I couldn’t back her up at all. She took a step back to avoid the contact and I stepped away as well. It was a dirty trick, but she didn’t escalate the confrontation. I couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses, but I felt that I had at least shown that I was totally intimidated by her size.
From a small distance I forced between us, I looked the blonde girl with her sunglass covered eyes and did my best to ignore her pretty friend. It wasn’t easy to ignore the other girl. She followed the Katrina and was now facing me from my side. Katrina blocked my path to my car and the bulk of the brown haired girl now conveniently blocked my path to the street. I was boxed in, trapped between the two of them.
Just then a dull grey Taurus with a big dent on the passenger side door wheeled into the parking lot. It didn’t make any attempt for any of the lined parking spots. It just came in on a tire squealing arc that brought it close enough to make Katrina’s friend jump back away from me. Dineesha, holding a cupholder with two iced lattes sidled out of the car and walked toward me.
“Figured you were a white chocolate latte kinda girl,” she said, ignoring Katrina and her friend as she pulled one of the clear plastic cups from the cupholder and handed it to me. She then stared at Katrina’s friend with the same deadpan expression on her face I thought she only saved for me.
There was a tense moment of silence between the four of us.
“This doesn’t concern you,” Katerina said. For the first time ever, I sensed a bit of doubt in her voice.
“Whatever’s going on between you and home girl ain’t my business, Goldilocks,” Dineesha agreed, taking a sip from her latte as she slid over and stood in front of the brown haired girl. “But you shouldn’t have brought baby bear with you to handle your business.”
My aunt’s and uncle’s restaurant wasn’t in a bad part of town, but it definitely wasn’t in the country club district. It wasn’t a total shock that a black and white slowly cruise down the alley behind the parking lot. It was considered an unspoken courtesy that earned patrolmen complimentary meals. The SUV slowed down and I recognized the cop on the passenger side as a frequent customer. I stepped back from Katerina, smiled and waved. He stared for the moment. When the other girls to turn and smile and wave as well, he finally nodded back and turned to look ahead as the cruiser pulled away.
“We need to go someplace else,” I said, putting away my smile and staring at Katerina.
“Let’s go back to my aunt’s,” she said, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. “I think she’d like to see you getting that stuck up ass of yours whupped.”
I looked over at Dineesha, who gave me a shrug.
“I’ll roll with you and keep an eye on baby bear,” she said. Katrina’s friend tried to look unconcerned, but she eyed the black girl nervously, shooting Katrina a look.
“Then it’s settled,” I said, trying hard not to show that I hardly felt that was a good thing. Katrina had been a bully from day one, terrorizing Jacob and me as we were growing up. She executed all sorts of evil any time she felt that the adult’s were looking somewhere else. There was nothing about her now that made me feel that what was about to happen would be any different.
Katrina’s Mustang crouched like a black leopard under the shade of a large oak tree that grew next to Janet’s wide, curving driveway. It felt menacing when Dineesha and I drove past it. Katrina and the brown haired girl lounged on it and watched as I pulled into my driveway next door. The two of them walked toward Janet’s backyard as my garage door slowly ground up and I drove inside. Taking a deep breath, I turned off the engine and leaned against the headrest. It was already uncomfortably hot outside. I felt greasy and tired. In a few hours I’d be heading back to work. Nothing about this situation seemed good.
“She’ll just come looking for if you keep hanging out in your garage,” Dineesha said. I looked at her, but she just shrugged. “Not my fault you went and pissed off Schwarzenegger’s terminator love child.”
I barked out a quick laugh.
“I didn’t piss her off,” I said. Then it was Dineesha’s turn to laugh. “Well, not directly.”
“Don’t think ‘directly’ matters any more,” Dineesha replied. “That girl is dialed up to DEFCON 5.”
Sighing, I grabbed the door handle and opened it. I felt a little better when I heard the passenger door open and Dineesha slipped out and followed me. We walked without speaking along the rock paved path between our houses and went through the gate to Janet’s backyard. Years of bullying and intimidation played through my mind. It seemed like Kristina had decided the first time she met Jacob and me that her mission in life was to threaten us. She was a year older than me, and managed to stay big enough to intimidate Jacob until he was about 15. Even though he towered over her now, he still seemed defenseless whenever she started on him.
Our houses were at the top of a slight rise and took up half of the cul-de-sac. As I threaded my way behind a stand of tall bushes, I knew that no one could see into Janet’s backyard. When we came through the gate, we were met with the sight of Katrina standing on the section of grass that ran from the fence to the pool. Her long, thick thighs rippled a bit and her large, firm tits jiggled as she bounced on her feet and shook out her arms.
Removing her sunglasses, she gave me a defiant look and her blue eyes sparkled with a dangerous gleam. The bouncing stopped. Proudly, she slowly took off her tank top and slipped out of her bra. Her skin was a tawny gold, somewhere between Janet’s pale alabaster and my dark brown. She had to be at least a 38D, her broad shoulders rippling as she threw her top to the grass. Solid, round tits with slightly darker colored areoles and nipples jiggled. Her nipples were like small pebbles as she stood up straight.
Then the bristle haired girl with the sweep of blonde bangs standing out against her skin glared at me as she slowly peeled her tight shorts over her generously rounded hips and thick, strong thighs. Her bared body, at once so womanly but also so jarringly not what any would call feminine, jolted me. Her peach pouted from between her legs, completely bald with thick lips that seemed to taunt as it curved between the shelter of those thick thighs. I had always disliked Katrina, tried to avoid even looking at her when we were thrown together. Now I found myself gazing, eyes lingering. I hated that her body could do that to me. It just didn’t seem right, but that just seemed to fuel an arousal that I loathed to feel.
“From what I hear, you like to get naked with other women,” Katrina said. Her voice cut through my dazed reflection like a knife, giving voice to a cruelly mocking intention. The tone was meant to hurt, diminish. It humiliated the unwanted attraction and scorned the confusion and rejection caused by her aggressive hair style. Yet, beneath it all, there was an edge of excitement in those sounds. She couldn’t completely hide a hint of lust in her eyes. I hated that it was echoed by urges that I felt flow through my body.
Sneering back at the blonde, I whipped off my greasy t-shirt and shorts, dropping them in a pile on the grass that I topped with my bra and panties. I was determined that there would be no tease, no attempt to attract. Yet I felt a wanton sense of pride as my even larger tits, dark brown and capped by a thick chocolate colored ring of areole and stubby, stiff nipples. My rounded hips and thick ass jiggled as I shimmied out of my shorts, the small wedged shaped bush the only remains of the thick jungle of bush that I chose to control. My hands slipped up along my jaw and slowly lifted my long black hair above me, working the scrunchie I’d bound it with loose as they moved. My right hip cocked to the side as my arms reached up their entire length, then fell away, my hair cascading down around me. A cruel chuckle slipped from my curled lips and struck Katrina like a snake. Frozen, she watched as I twisted my hair, my large boobs jostling together as my fingers quickly twisted and pulled my hair back within the scrunchie’s tight hold. She could not stop staring, and now it was my turn to sneer.
“We’ve been talking about you and other girls for years,” I replied. “I guess you have finally given us the answer.”
As I slowly stepped toward her, the glittering surface of the pool off to my right and beyond Katrina distracted me for a moment. Already covered by a light sweat, it’s refreshing depth looked oh so inviting. For just a second I remembered the chicken fight. Facing this tall blonde naked, it now seemed so harmless, so innocent. But it wasn’t, I told myself, forcing myself to stare at Kristina.
“I gotta start hangin’ out with more rich people,” Dineesha muttered as she fell in step behind me. “Y’all are freaky.”
As I drew closer, I saw Janet sitting on one of the padded chairs on the patio, staying cool under a large pool umbrella. She wore a white wide brimmed hat and matching plisse coverup held in place by a belt. A pair of large sunglasses hid whatever bruise I had given her. She took a sip of iced lemonade and then leaned back in the upholstered chair, letting the coverup slip open and showing she was naked underneath. I tried to block that out and concentrated on Katrina, but I did notice Janet’s hand slipping down between her legs.
Katrina raised her fists as I got closer, giggling as she started to stalk me. That dangerous look in her eyes that I first noticed when I was about 12 glittered with an even more ferocious gleam as she watched me. The blonde circled to my left, feet shuffling with a practiced ease. She threw out a testing jab, less interested in landing as in seeing how I reacted. I blocked it, paying more attention to her feet than her fist. As her lead foot lifted, I darted quickly forward and to my left, cutting off her circle and forcing her to make a decision. She hesitated for a second and then moved to reset her feet. A quick flash of frustration played over her lips as I glanced up to check her eyes. Then switching back to watching her feet shuffle, I stepped in closer, driving a knee up into her right thigh as she was just beginning to move. Body still committed to throwing another testing jab, all her weight added force to my blow. Then I fired off my quick jab first and watched it burrow between her hands.
My knee hit with a satisfying thunk and I watched my fist slip between hers and smack hard into her left boob, mashing it painfully into her chest. She grunted in pain and stumbled back a step; then another as the punch made her gasp for air. Gravity tugged and she fell down on her round ass.
Guess what, bitch, I thought to myself. I can take martial arts classes, too!
Realizing I’d gained the advantage, I quickly moved in. Katrina was about 5 inches taller and 25 pounds heavier. I welcomed the prickle on my skin and the icy trickle of fear flow through me. It sharpened my mind. It defeated the confusing attraction I felt a few minutes before. It reminded me that I needed to have her on her ass and on the defensive or this was going to go badly for me.
Leaning forward on the balls of my feet, I threw another punch down toward her head. She lifted her arms up, crossing forearms in an effort to protect herself. I pulled back the punch and let my forward movement feed the power of another knee shot, one aimed toward her chest. It connected with a meaty thunk that sent a wave of pleasure through my body. Katrina grunted, falling onto her back. I recovered and tried to dance away, but her legs shot out and her feet tangled with mine and tripped me.
The trickle of watchful fear was replaced by a surge of adrenaline flowing through my veins. I waved my arms and stepped backwards, but I was now the one landing on my ass. I scrambled up to my hands and feet, moving like a crab to get away from her. Panting, Katrina was already moving. She half lunged, her right arm snaking out and trying to snag my trailing left foot. I lifted it and smashed it downward, getting a yelp of pain as my heel slammed into the back of her hand and pounded it into the grass.
I scrambled back a few more feet while Katrina howled in pain and pulled her hand back, tucking it under her left elbow and glaring at me. She panted, watching me carefully, but did not yet rise. Her face showed her pain and she could not hide that she was gingerly testing her fingers to try and judge how badly she had been injured. I glanced up toward the patio and noticed that Janet was leaning forward, her huge, pale tits exposed through the open plisse. The cloth belt drooping uselessly to either side of her hips. Her lips were open and I could almost hear her panting breath. Those plump lips turned into a sneer as I flipped her off.
I looked back at Katrina. She was slowly getting back up to her feet. For a second, her head dipped down and I moved quickly. Feet under her, she started to straighten up as I crashed into her, swinging my left forearm forward toward her chest, which was arching out as she lifted her head to see me coming at her. I shouted out in an angry glee as again I smashed a blow into her chest. I felt her large tits mash against her, and the loud grunt of pain as all the air rushed out. My body crashed into hers and she collapsed backwards, arms wrapping around me and pulling me down on top of her.
I slipped my arm upwards as I lay on her, pressing it against her throat. My legs spread out over her hips, my large brown breasts covering her face as I tried to lie flat on her and use my weight to pin her to the grass. I yelped as her right hand slapped and grabbed my thick ass. It hurt, but I leaned forward a bit more and pressed my forearm tighter against her throat, figuring I was hurting her more.
“Get your fat tits out of my face,” she grunted as she tried to twist to the side and avoid the smothering mound of flesh.
“I thought you dykes at Westborough spent all your time with some bitches tit in your face,” I grunted back.
“Fuck you!” Kristina yelled. She slapped my ass again, then grabbed at my long ponytail. The second grab twisted her fingers into my long, tangled hair. She pulled my head backwards until my neck and upper back spasmed from pain.
“Fucking lesbo bitch!” I screamed as she slowly forced me to sit up on her body. I grabbed at her throat and choked her with both hands, still trying to weaken her even as her strength was slowly taking control.
“Cunt, you’re the one that decided to go after my aunt,” Katrina replied. With a hard thrust of her thick hips and a jerk of my hair that jerked my head to the side, she rolled us over and I felt her weight on me.
Her hands roughly kneaded my tits, making me groan in a mixture of pain and pleasure. I writhed under her, grabbing for anything and finally getting my fingers buried deep in her tawny colored globes. For a moment we looked like we were trying to milk each other and I started to feel her hips rock on mine. Our eyes were locked in a death stare. Both of us hated the fact that we were giving into desires neither of us ever wanted to feel.
I was the first to break off this momentary interlude. My left hand snaked away and then I slapped her meaty tit. She yelped in outrage pain and returned the favor to my left breast. Teeth gritted, we now gripped and dug into each other’s mounds with unbridled fury.
“God, I fucking hate you, Mala!” Katrina yelled, her face twisted in pain.
“Fuck you, Katrina!” I yelled back. “You’re just a desperate lesbo dyke! I bet you’ve been wanting this for years!”
Tears formed on the corners of my eyes and blurred my vision as I struggled under the bristle-haired bitch. All of my anger and fear toward Katrina bubbled to the surface, and I privately begged for it to destroy the sick sense of attraction I felt toward her. Everything about her was gross to me, but my body kept reacting to the sight of her naked body and the close contact we were experiencing.
I clawed at Katrina’s bouncing tits as she struggled to stay on top of me. My words sparked a fire in her eyes. Her left hand rose up next to her ear as she screamed. The fingers still curled into a fist and was going to hammer down into my face when suddenly a tsunami of flesh rolled into us from the right and knocked us apart. I was under a wave of white and black skin, losing sight of Katrina as bodies buried me.
A lot of grunting and swearing took place as we all pushed and shoved. Finally I was able to get from underneath Dineesha’s and the brown haired girl’s nude bodies and stagger up to my feet. Katrina was to my right, wiping away the trickle of blood from her nose with the back of her right hand. Dineesha and the friend staggered up to their feet. For a moment, the green eyed girl and I exchanged a look. She had the same nervous “I’m fighting above my weight class” look that I felt.
“Get your black ass out of my way,” Katrina said, stepping up to Dineesha, but not willing to try to push her way past.
“Only reason I’m here is because you were too much of a pussy to handle business on your own,” Dineesha snapped back.
The two girls pushed at each other, breathing hard and glaring. There was a brief moment when they teetered on the edge of fighting, but then they separated. Dineesha turned and gave me a quick nod, then lunged at the friend and took her back down to the ground.
I felt a moment of confidence from her nod, but Katrina managed to get it out of the way as she started to move toward me. Confused feelings were banished. Her fists were back up, and she was circling to my left again. This time, however, she didn’t move as quickly or with the same air of confidence. I realized that I managed to put a little uncertainty in the bullying terror I had feared for years.
I watched, then quickly moved to my left, fists up again, cutting off Katrina’s movement. Again. Only this time she expected it. Rather than stopping and resetting, she jump stepped to her left, twisting her body as she dipped down, bending knees and torquing her hips around. Her fist curled around my elbow, slamming just under the curving bones of my ribs. It was quick, savage and brutally accurate. I sank to my knees, gasping for air.
Fingers tangled into my hair, then I was torqued down hard onto my back. Katrina’s face twisted into evil glee as she looked down at me. Those deadly thighs straddled my middle and I felt a sudden storm of fear flow through my veins. I was weakened, gasping for breath, and my lifelong bully towered over me.
“Always so pretty,” she crooned. “Always so perfect. Always being the good girl. Did you enjoy being everyone’s favorite? Having all the boys pay attention to you? Being what you were supposed to be?”
I looked into her eyes. Hatred and rage bloomed in her like a deadly flower. Yet there was also just a hint of hurt and fear as well. It was like she was searching for something in my eyes, wanting something from me. My eyes narrowed. I was determined not to give it to her.
She rocked up, lifting her muscled ass and thighs up as her left hand braced her weight. It was almost as if she feared too much contact between our naked bodies. I ignored any attempts at trying to roll her to her side. It would have been like trying to throw a mountain. Instead, I curled my right hand up between her thick, muscled thighs. She shivered as my finger tips grazed against taut abs. Then her eyes widened in shock and her body convulsed.
Bucking like a bronco coming out of the gate, Katrina twisted and turned as my middle finger plunged between the soft folds of her labia lips. I hadn’t been concerned about whether or not she was ready for the contact. The fact she was so wet didn’t surprise me, but it did make me feel a bit revolted. Eyes bulged in shock and bellowing out a loud scream, the blonde tried to twist away from me.
Katrina rose up on her knees and twisted around, trying to snap her hips to the right and get me out of her sex. I came up behind her, my fingers trying to vainly grab at hair but only finding stubby bristles. Looping my left arm around her throat, I managed to finally get a grip on her sweaty body and twist her back down to the ground. It was almost like a rodeo event as I pushed her cheek down into the grass and managed to hook my right leg around her middle. My foot hooked against her inner thigh, giving me leverage. I slipped the middle finger of my free hand back along her swollen folds, then pressed between her plump labia. She groaned, face flushed and lips parted as she panted.
“I always knew you were a bully,” I taunted Katrina, whispering in her ear as my finger slipped in and out of her, my thumb flicking against her swelling clit on the way in. “But I only guessed at what a nasty dyke you are.”
“Fuck you, Mala,” Katrina panted. “After what you did with my aunt, I don’t think you can talk down dykes. You’re a full blown lesbo.”
“I don’t pretend, Katerina,” I hissed. “I like women, but I’m not that way. How hard it must have been to try and seem normal. All those years hiding what you were.“
I slipped another finger into Katrina, making her strong hips convulse as I fingered her even harder. A sense of power grew in me as I forced this girl, this bully, to groan and felt her thighs quiver from what I was doing to her. I could feel her wetness and could tell from her quick, short breathing that I was really getting to her.
“Come on,” I hissed at her, biting her earlobe for a second, which made her cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Show your aunt what a cheap whore you really are.”
With a desperate effort, Kristina’s strong arms flexed and she pushed her face up off of the ground, spitting grass from her lips. She raised herself up to all fours and then I felt a scalding pain tear through my scalp as she blindly grabbed up over her shoulder and managed to latch onto my hair. Jerking her hand down forcefully as she tucked her shoulder, the powerful blonde rolled us over. The side of my head and shoulder hit the ground hard and then her body rolled onto me, her solid back drove the air out of my lungs and I lost my hold on her as she lay on top of me.
I tried to push up on her, but my hands could not find any part of her sweat slicked body that I could grip. She twisted around and I felt her feet bracing themselves on either side of me. Looking up, I saw her face, still red from arousal and exertion, looming over me for a moment. The single sweep of blonde hair that served as bangs on her assertive hair style clung wetly to her forehead and I noticed the curving row of ruby studs that curled along the outer shell of her left ear winking in the sunlight. For some reason I wondered if she would be allowed to wear them at the Academy. That moment disappeared as her round, full ass slammed down on my belly.
I tried to scream out in agony from the blow, but only a rattling cough escaped because I had not recovered from the jarring slam to the grass I just endured. Her fingers laced their way deep into my soaked hair until her claws dug into my scalp. She jerked up until my neck stretched to it’s limit. Then my head shook savagely side to side. My sight blurred. I started to feel dizzily sick.
“What’s the matter, Mala?” Kristina demanded. “Don’t you have any funny jokes now? Nothing left to tease me about?”
The shaking paused and I stared up into her blazing blue eyes. For an instant, there was just her and me, the two girls who were never friends, but had known each other for most of our lives. For a second I thought there might be a connection between us, a moment of understanding. I felt her right hand let go of my hair, stop torturing my scalp. Then the next sensation I felt was a hard slap between my legs. An atom bomb of agony exploded in my sex and the mushroom cloud of pain billowed through my body.
“Always so clever,” Kristina hissed at me.
Her hand slapped down again.
“Always so pretty!”
A third slap rocked me. The waves of pain jumped in intensity from each blow. I finally found a way to scream as I writhed and twisted under Kristina, tears springing from my eyes and as the scream withered into a moaning sob.
“Always so perfect.”
Now it was her finger teasing my bludgeoned pussy, the nerves so overloaded from sensations of pain that the slight hint of pleasure twisted into its own form of exquisite torture as it ran through me. Her left hand untangled itself from my hair; slapped my heaving tit. Again. And again, raising a reddish mark on my dark brown skin. Then her sharp talons raked over the blooming bruise, locating the stiffening bullet of my left nipple and cruelly twisting and tugging it.
“Nooooooo” I wailed.
My hips and shoulders twisting and jerking, my hands slapping at her sides and clawing at her tits was I moaned over and over. Desperate, I fought to escape this pain, this humiliation. But I could not.
For a moment the torture stopped. Kristina’s hands chased and slapped at my wrists and hands as if she was swatting at flies on the back porch. Finally she captured and pinned them under her shins. Looking down at me with grim determination, her right hand returned to my sex, roughly kneading my battered and swollen labia lips while her left—fingers extended and palm flat—slashed through the air and slapped across my tit, crushing my stiff nipple as it raked across my skin. That second of grazing impact was when her three fingers stabbed up into my ravaged pussy.
“It was always Jacob,” she whispered to me as one hand clamped down on my wounded boob and the other spread its fingers and thrust deeply into me. “You always were against me, always whispering, always laughing at me. You never had eyes for me, Mala. You never wanted to know anything about me.”
I cried out again. And again. But her fingers did not falter. They gouged and twisted my nipple. They twisted and thrusted. Her palm pounded against my ravaged and swollen folds. She hurt me. She taunted me. She slowly forced an orgasm to rise up inside of me like a black tower of shame. In spite of the humiliation. In spite of the pain. Or, I started to think as my body twisted and turned under her, my lips parted and issuing groan after groan, because of it.
She rode me to my forced orgasm, her breathing matching mine, her face now flushed with a type of excitement I had never seen before. My vision was blurred by tears I could not wipe away and the urge, the need, the desire rose up higher and higher inside of me until it smashed down onto me like a collapsing skyscraper. I screamed out an orgasm I never wanted. I laid defenseless under Kristina as she made me take it.
When it finally subsided, I lay panting on the grass. Then she moved forward, her hips scooted from side to side and her fingers twisted back into my hair. She pulled my lips to her bald sex. I tasted her nectar, her sweat. She paused for a second to wipe my eyes clear. It was not out of kindness. I looked up from between her powerful thighs and clearly saw her blue eyes, ravenously aroused, but still harboring the hurt that she had been carrying for years.
As she started to rock her hips, my tongue slipped out and I gave her what she wanted. What she needed. What I owed her. The intensity of her eyes dimmed as she finally gave into an arousal she could never express. I felt the tension, the yearning, the overwhelming need build up within her. Her hips rocked back and forth, but she did not pound my face the way that I feared. When she tilted back her head and screamed, her fingers curled and her claws dug into my scalp. She roughly pulled my head up, pressing me into her, mashing my lips and nose against her skin. Her body tightened, then relaxed, then tightened and relaxed again. Finally, she slumped down, sitting listlessly on top of my body.
Kristina and I had our moment.
Then I saw Mrs. Marshall’s face loom above us both. Her right hand tapped on Kristina’s shoulder. There was an almost tender expression on her face as she looked down.
“You can get off her now,” she said in her soft, honeyed tone. She betrayed no emotion. “And, just remember girls, I’m just as nice to you as you let me be.”
Kristina looked down at me. For a moment there was a look of understanding in her eyes. Then they flicked back up to Mrs. Marshall—for I could not call her Janet any longer—and a look of fear was in them. She rose from me and turned away. Dismissed, she headed toward the patio.
Mrs. Marshall smiled down at me. Her plisse was opened and I could see a fresh gleam of her juices on her inner thighs and puffy labia lips. Then she turned and headed for the patio as well.
For a moment I just lay on the grass. I didn’t feel like I had strength enough to move. Then the third face appeared above me. Dineesha, expression also totally devoid of emotion, looked down at me. Her hand reached down and she hoisted my body up to a wobbly stand and supported me for a moment as I tried to summon up the strength to support myself.
“Well, you were wrong,” she whispered to me. “You’ve been directly pissing off terminator love child for years. You just didn’t know it.”
I wrapped my left arm around her bare shoulders and she turned around to face the retreating forms of Kristina and Mrs. Marshall.
“Yeah, you might need to come pick up y’all’s friend,” she said, motioning with her free hand toward the brown haired girl whose name we never learned. She lounged on her side a few feet away. “I think I kinda broke her.”
Kristina turned and shot a glare at us, then started to walk over. The friend was attempting to get up, but couldn’t quite summon up the strength.
“Sometimes y’all can’t go back to white people ways after a beating like what I gave her,” Dineesha said. “You might have to give her lots of herbal teas; have her watch a lot of The Brady Bunch; maybe listen to Celine Dion… Shit like that.”
Kristina stopped and glared at Dineesha. She was recovered now, back to her bullying ways.
“Any time you want, honey,” Dineesha replied. “My tiny little boo here nearly fucked you right here in front of Momma Bear. You don’t scare me.”
Kristina looked away and helped her friend up while Dineesha led me toward the gate and back toward my house. We both knew we didn’t have much time to get ready before we needed to be back at work.
Dineesha and I showered together. She gently soaped my body and kept my hair from getting wet. Without a word she helped dry me off.
“You gonna be ok?” she asked.
Staring at myself in the steamed mirror, I nodded. It was the shellshocked, instinctive reaction of the boxer staggering to his feet after being knocked down. But it would have to do.
Dineesha’s clothes were ok for work. I mechanically got dressed in something suitable. I handed her the keys when we got into the garage.
“Definitely need more rich friends,” she said, using the fob to unlock and start the car.
We drove in silence. I made an effort to find something decent on Sirius, but all the songs sounded fake to me. I leaned back against the headrest and closed my eyes, letting the vibration of the car soothe me.
“I couldn’t get involved in that fight,” Dineesha finally said. “You know that, right? But I would have stopped her if it got too messed up.”
I smiled for a second. “We might need to work on your idea of ‘too messed up’.”
Then the full weight of what I had just revealed to a girl who had barely spoken to me in the past came done on me like another avalanche of humiliation.
“Why did you show up?” I said. “You didn’t have to come in.”
“Well,” Dineesha said. She paused. I glanced over and saw that she was trying to figure out what to say next. “I was gonna bring you that coffee and ask you to stop trying to be my friend.”
I nodded, feeling even more depressed now.
“But now we’ve been through some shit,” the black girl continued. “She may have handed you your ass, but you really stood up to that bitch. That means something. I really did think that you had her going for a bit.”
I smiled weakly.
“So, look,” Dineesha was speaking quickly now. “All this shit stays between us. I’m never gonna tell a soul about how fucked up y’all are. And we won’t mention what I did to that poor assed friend of terminator. So we’re friends, alright?”
I looked over at her, then nodded.
“Cool,” she continued. “And whatever happens, we’ll both know that we’re friends. Even if dumb shit happens. Ok?”
This time I laughed. “Ok.”
“Ok,” Dineesha replied. I was puzzled for a moment over the tone of her voice.
When we walked into the restaurant, my uncle came over. “Mala, I tried to call, but you didn’t answer. I need to speak to you for a minute, ok? In my office.”
I looked over at Dineesha, but she avoided eye contact, picking out an apron and taking a great deal of care in how she put it on.
I followed my uncle back to his cramped office. He picked up a stack of folders with receipts in them and motioned for me to sit.
“Mala,” he said, also avoiding eye contact. “We have been so proud of you. Watching you grow up, watching you learn so much. Now you go to college.”
He paused for a moment, obviously struggling on how to say what he wanted to say.
“But we thought that you would be getting a different job this summer,” he finally said. “Something that would help you in college. This,” he gestured with both hands to encompass everything. “This Isn’t what your family wants. It isn’t what you want.”
He paused again. His hands slowly writhed together and he stared at his fingers for a moment.
“This is very difficult. You are family, but I have given my word. You could work anywhere. But—for some people—this is what they need. ”
For a moment we just stared at each other. Then the dam burst.
“I promised Dineesha she would start to waitress this summer,” he said, breaking the silence and the secrecy. “She has been expecting it. She needs it. She works and tries to pay for community college. I try to help, but it insults her. It’s very hard. You can work here this summer, but she has to be the waitress and keep the tips. If you want to stay, you have to be the dishwasher.”
For a moment I didn’t say a thing. Then I nodded. I was too tired to say anything more than “I understand.”
As I headed back to the kitchen, I could see Dineesha was already out in the dining area, greeting people at the door and guiding them to their tables. I went to the dishwasher station and started to load a rack of plates.
When I got home that night my parent’s hovered, trying to figure out how I was taking the changes. My body and my spirit ached, but there were no bruises that they could see. There were only the bruises that they could sense. I ate quietly, and told them I was tired. They let me go to bed without too many questions. I assured them that everything was ok and that I wasn’t unhappy or insulted. My mother hugged me and kissed the top of my head. I winced and my father watched with his careful eyes.
As I lay on my bed, my phone vibrated. I groaned as I saw Chilling’s picture. I had forgotten to get back to her.
“Hi,” I said, doing my best to try and sound cheerful.
“Hey!” She replied. She was excited and the words were spilling out so quickly she could not notice my mood.
“My mother told me to see if you could be available the weekend after next,” the younger girl said. Her excited words ran together and she was hard to understand. “We have a family gathering then and she said that it would be her honor to teach you how to make some Chinese dishes for the family. It’s nothing too complicated, but I always mess it up and she gets frustrated. It would mean a lot if you could come. Please!!! Please say that you will come!”
I took a deep breath, remembering the slight nod Dr. Li gave me when I told her how I would be honored to have her mentor me while I mentored her daughter. That nod acknowledged that she realized that she had been outflanked. Now she was using my ploy against me.
“Please tell her that I would be honored to help prepare the food,” I told Chiling. “I might have to juggle my work schedule, but I would do everything I can to help.”
Chilling yelped with excitement, then breathlessly ran through the details of how her summer was going. After a few minutes, she told me that she would get back with me to set up time and other details and hung up. I put my cell down on the nightstand and took a deep breath. So our first field of battle would be Asian cuisine, I thought to myself.
I only had the reading lamp next to my bed turned on. The body of the blonde porcelain doll was mostly hidden in the darkness of the corner of my room. Due to some trick of light, I did see the blue eyes of the doll. They did not appear flat the way they did the morning Mrs. Marshall came over. There was a flicker to them, and there appeared to be secrets hidden behind the porcelain mask of her face.
I stared at the doll. My body ached, but that would go away soon. Mrs. Marshall showed me why she was the undisputed queen of the subdivision. I assumed that she was not used to receiving a response after delivering such a message. But she would get one soon. Dr. Li was a quietly powerful woman. I assumed no one ever saw her coming when she decided to attack. But I would be ready.
I turned on my side, exposing my back to the porcelain doll. I would not win all the time, but I realized my uncle was right. I had learned so much. And I learned more every day.