Glory Days by BCW8

Ten years ago, the suggestion that Molly might one day go to a class reunion would have been ludicrous.  Molly hated high school.  But, ten years gives one some perspective.  In Molly’s case, it also gave her a chance to show those high school fuckers what she’d become.

Molly 2010 at age eighteen was a mess of stringy yellow hair and zits.  Overweight and still flat-chested; what kind of cruel joke was that, God?  An ok student but not a star.  She was practically invisible.  Not entirely.

Molly 2020 at twenty-eight was, in one short word, wow.  In college, she picked up running and yoga and remade her body, the fat turned to lean muscle.  As her self-esteem went up, so did her grades.  She went to law school, and there she was a star.  Top ten percent.  In a big city litigation firm, you learn how to dress and make your hair and make-up into weapons just as much as your brain.  She was on the partnership track.  The expensive boob job?  That was just a present to herself.

She cupped her still-new girls, took a breath, and walked into the hotel ballroom.  Welcome Class of 2010!

Let’s go back to practically invisible.  Unseen by many, Molly had always been seen by Tina.  Tina tormented her.

Tina 2010 at age eighteen was on top of the world, or at least Queen of High School.  Straight-A student, star athlete, class president, played a virgin but fucked the hottest guy in school, wore a string bikini to the beach to show off her young hard 36Ds.  You’d think that everyone would love her, but even then Tina was a complete and total bitch.

Tina 2020 at age twenty-eight still had her looks.  Hell, she was better looking now.  She worked out like a demon, and no babies for her body, no thank you!  Scott, the hottest guy in high school was now a fucking used car salesman, with a belly starting to hang over his belt.  Why had she bothered to go to college just to come back and marry him?  He could barely get it up now.  And real estate?  Christ she was bored.  The best thing she could say about that fucking job was that it fairly frequently put her alone in a house with a male client, and she could have started her own porn channel by now.

There, across the room, was Little Molly.  Even re-invented, Tina would know her anywhere.  You know how some people make themselves feel better by tearing down others?  Tina smiled.  That’s what Molly had been good for in school.  She tugged at the skirt of her little black cocktail dress, and started over.

There’s the bitch, Molly thought.

“Molly!”  Kiss kiss on each cheek.  “How are you!”

“Fuck you, Tina,” Molly said.

“Oh good, we aren’t going to play-act,” Tina said.  “I have to do that every fucking day of my life.  Why are you here, bitch?  Do you want to relive your glory days?”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Molly said.  “I want to pretend you don’t exist.”  She turned and headed for the bar, but actually the last thing she’d said wasn’t true.  She’d come there with Tina very much in her mind.

Through the evening they mingled, circling the ballroom, but never lost track of each other, like two big cats stalking the jungle, one eye on each other through the trees.  Molly basked in the oohs and ahhs of wow-you-look-amazing.  Tina drank, without getting drunk, to you-haven’t-changed-a-bit.  She hated that phrase.

Molly found Scott.  He was drinking and with no problem at all he was getting drunk.  He wasn’t completely sure who she was – this couldn’t be the Molly he remembered – but so what?  She stood there in a red mini-dress with a halter top that screamed look at my boobs, and so he did.   “Dance with me,” she said.  Tina watched them, and boiled.

In fact, several people watched them, because Molly was practically fucking Scott standing up on the dance floor.  She’d taken salsa lessons and he was not too drunk to follow her lead without too much embarrassment.  Molly made sure they were turned towards Tina when she dragged her red-lacquered nails up the fly of his slack.  He was not having trouble getting an erection tonight.

Tina’s frozen smile never slipped.  Molly danced the night away, blonde hair whipping, tanned legs flashing. 

The crowd had thinned somewhat by ten pm; most people just make a reunion appearance and leave early, relieved it’s over.  Scott and Tina had a suite reserved at the hotel, because she knew he’d be too drunk to drive home and she’d hoped that maybe the combination of high school nostalgia and the minor exotica of hotel sex would move him to give her a decent fuck.  When the DJ started the most-popular slow dance song of 2010, she looked for him.

Molly was pulling him onto the dance floor.  Tina found a partner and followed, silently, dangerously furious.  Molly ran her fingers through Scott’s hair and rubbed her breasts on his chest.  Her eyes met Tina’s and she caught his earlobe in her teeth for a second before closing her eyes in mock ecstasy and pushing her tongue into her own cheek to simulate his cock in her mouth.  It was all theater for Tina, but actually Scott’s cock was hard against her lower belly and her pussy was growing damp.  Maybe . . .

“Mind if I cut in?” Tina purred.  Scott stepped back, a little self-consciously, with a brief moment of panic about how to explain his raging erection to his wife, but it was Molly she wanted to dance with.

Tina put her hands on Molly’s hips, and dug her nails in.  Molly put her arms around Tina’s neck, and gripped her dark hair close to her head, just enough for her to feel a slight tug.  They were subtle, and kept smiling.  Tina pushed her breasts into Molly’s.

“Nice store-bought tits,” Tina said.

“Your husband likes them,” Molly said.  “He got really hard when I whispered in his ear that he could put his cock between them.”

“You’re a fucking nobody, Molly.  You always were.”

“You made me miserable in high school, you bitch.  And now you’re the nobody.  Standing here in your best fuck-me dress and your husband wants to fuck me, not you.  How does that feel?”

They were breathing hard.  The song ended.  Scott watched them, his eyes wide.  Most of the room watched them.

“Suite 480,” Tina whispered.  “Fifteen minutes.  If you’ve got the guts.  I don’t think you do.”

She broke away, still smiling, intertwined her fingers with Scott’s, and walked away. 

The door to suite 480 was unlatched.  Molly pushed it open, and let it swing closed with a clunk behind her.  There was a short hallway, a bathroom on her right, to the suite’s main room.  Scott sat on the sofa, still stunned.  Beyond the main room was the bedroom.  Tina stood in its doorway.

She’d already stripped out of her black cocktail dress.  Since her plan for the night had included fucking Scott, her lingerie had been chosen for seduction: all black, a see-through demi-bra and lace bikini panties cut high on her hips.  She wore a slender garter belt and sheer thigh-high stockings.  Her heels were glossy black.  She knew how good she looked.  Her abs were a faint six pack, her legs and arms and shoulders toned, her boobs high and firm, her dark hair curled above her shoulders.

“So you did come,” she said to Molly.  “Brave, but dumb.”

“Are you really going to do this?” Scott was incredulous.  “Jesus, Tina!  Are you crazy?”

“Shut the fuck up, Scott,” Tina said.  “You looked at her tits enough downstairs.  Don’t pretend now you don’t want to see me strip her.”

“You’re not stripping me, bitch,” Molly said.  She undid the six-inch zipper from her lower back down her ass, and unclasped her halter top at the back of her next.  Her salsa lessons came in handy again:  she caught her lower lip in her teeth and slowly gyrated her hips in a figure eight as she slid her red mini-dress down her body, pointedly looking at Scott the entire time.  She stepped out of the puddle of fabric, and posed with her feet set wide, in her glossy red stilettos and red lace cheekini panties.  She hadn’t worn a bra.  She cupped her perfect breasts, pinching her jutting pink nipples.

“You were right, Tina,” she said.  “He definitely wanted to see.”

Tina’s lips curled with fury.  Who did this little bitch think she was?  In high school she would never have dared to speak to her like that.  She looked at Scott and her fury spiked; his eyes were glued to Molly.  She took the three steps to stand in front of him.  “Stand up, sweetie,” she said with icy sweetness.  He did, with some difficulty.   She turned her back on him and locked eyes with Molly.  “Be a dear,” she said, “and unhook me.”

He did, and she slid her bra down her arms and off before leaning back into him and pulling his hands up to cup her bared breasts.  Her dark nipples were as hard as pebbles. 

“Mmmmmmm,” Tina said, her voice husky.  “And not made of plastic.”

“I’m repeating myself, I know,” said Molly, “but fuck you, Tina.”

Tina turned back to face Scott, and unbuttoned his shirt.  “Here’s what’s going to happen.  My husband is going to take out his cock, and watch us girls catfight.  No rules, no limits.  Anything – and I mean anything – goes.  You think that ten years has changed things?  You’re wrong.  Nothing’s changed.  I’m going to show you that you are still the weak, pathetic loser you were in school.”

She faced back to Molly.  “I’m still the queen bee, Molly.  When I’m done, you will lick my pussy.  And, you’re going to beg to do it.”

Scott’s cock was out now, hard and throbbing. 

Molly ducked her head, swung her hair back and forth and then tossed it over her left shoulder.  Her eyes were cold.  “It would have been so simple just for you to be nice to me, back then,” she said to Tina.  “Tonight you get some fresh pussy, Scott, after I beat your whore wife.” 

The room wasn’t big.  It took less than a second for the two of them to close the space between them.  They smashed together, staggering sideways into the wall, screaming curses at each other.  Tina had steeled herself for Molly’s big implants to hurt her, and they did.  But the blonde woman winced hard when Tina’s breasts thudded into hers.  Only a month past her enhancement, her boobs were still tender.  The realization that Molly’s tits were more of a handicap than a weapon lit up Tina’s eyes.

In college, Tina had destroyed a rival sorority girl’s tits with hers at a drunken frat party.  Two years ago she’d had a dispute over a commission with another realtor and the two women had met in the empty property to settle it.  She’d left that bitch busted on her back, taking her bra and the commission.  What she saw in Molly’s eyes, she’d seen in their eyes.

Tina rolled her breasts over Molly’s, side to side, down and up, then thrust them straight in.  The back of Molly’s head banged into the wall.  She tried not to moan but fuck it hurt.  She felt like her implants were shifting, not secure.  Tina jolted her again, and a stabbing pain shot through the slender scar tissue of her incisions.  She put her hands on the fronts of Tina’s shoulders and tried to push her back but Tina smacked her tits to her right and jabbed her left one into Molly’s left one. 

“Fuck,” Molly gasped and quickly regretted it.  Tins grinned and hammered her breast into Molly’s.  The stabbing pain spread.   “You’ll be wearing those in your armpits soon, slut,”  Tina said.  Molly grabbed Tina’s hair and the brunette immediately threw her elbow into Molly’s mouth.

“You’re gonna fucking pull my hair, Molly?”  Tina said.  “You really really do not understand what a huge fucking mistake you’ve made, do you?”  Her fist jackhammered into Molly’s stomach, between her belly button and her panties – four times.  She flung her face-first into the flat-screen tv across the room.

Tina stared back at ten years of disappointment that high school had been her peak.  She stared into the future of decades of tedium and mediocrity stretching ahead.  Someone needed to pay for this, Tina thought.  Someone needed to be torn down.  She stared at Molly, on her knees, right there.  Tina clenched her fists and started hitting.

My mouth is bleeding, Molly thought, and as soon as she did, Tina’s fist smashed her lips again.  She couldn’t get off her knees.  Why in stories about heroically confronting bullies does the bully back down instead of beating you to your knees?  The pocket between her lower lip and her teeth filled with blood; she felt it overflow at the corners of her mouth.  Her bully’s fist punched her cheekbone, a diamond engagement ring ripped her flesh.  Her head whipped sideways under another punch and through the tears in her eyes she saw the blood spatter hit the wall.

Molly lunged into Tina’s legs.  The brunette caught a heel in the carpet and pinwheeled her arms as she fell hard into the coffee table, scattering hotel knickknacks.  Molly flung herself onto her.  She twisted one of Tina’s arms behind her back, wrenching her wrist high up between her shoulder blades.  Tina groaned, and the sound made Molly wet.  She reached around her enemy and dug her fingers into her swinging breast.  Molly had just that afternoon gotten a manicure, and the glossy lacquer on her nails disappeared deep into Tina’s flesh.

“Oh you fucking whore!” Tina screamed.  Molly bent her over the glass-top coffee table, dragging her armlock higher, pushing Tina’s tits flat against the surface, her claw still buried in one.  Scott’s cock was only a few feet away.  “Your husband likes watching me hurt you,” Molly said.  She had her feet under her now, set wide, pushing down on Tina’s back.  “I like that he likes it.  Come see how wet I am, Scott.  Just a little feel – for now.”

He did it.  Scott pulled her panties aside and pushed his fingers into her.  Tina couldn’t see it but Molly was so wet she could hear it, and it drove her crazy.  She thrashed and screamed but all that did was push Molly’s nails deeper into her.   “You’ve always been so fucking proud of your big fat tits,”  Molly said.  “Not after tonight, you won’t be.  Not after I slice them up and fuck your husband with your blood under my nails.”

By dumb luck, Tina’s stiletto heel stabbed into Molly’s ankle, knocking her foot went out from under her.  Molly lost her grip, and Tina whipped her elbow into her mouth again.  Molly’s chin was covered with blood by now; it dripped on her chest, ran between and over her breasts.  Tina broke free completely, gripped two hands of hair, smashed Molly’s face down into the table.  Again.  Again.

Molly thought her nose was broken.  There was so much blood on the glass now.  She lolled there, in a daze.   Tina had let go of her hair.  Where had she gone?  She looked at Scott.  He was staring at her, with a weird mix of lust and horror.  The blood in her throat made her cough, a spray of droplets.  It was hard to breathe.  It was harder still, when Tina wrapped the black lace demi-bra around her throat and twisted it.

“Oh fuck, Tina!”  Scott was panicking.  His wife was out of control, fucking berserk.  “Don’t kill her!”

“Fuck you, Scott!  You put your goddamn fingers in her like you do every fucking slut at that car dealership!”  Tina raged.  She jerked her garrote back and forth, whipping Molly’s hard tits from side to side.  Molly’s face was darkening.  No air. 

Tina lifted her.  The closest bare wall was actually the window.  She splattered Molly’s tits on the glass, ground them in a circle.  The silicone shells inside them flattened, the thick gel inside them compressed.  Oh god it hurt.  Only the lace cutting into Molly’s throat kept her from screaming.  Tina pulled her back, then slammed her forward again.  The glass shivered in its frame. 

Tina threw Molly back to the center of the room.  She landed on her back, and sucked in a deep shuddering lungful of oxygen.  Then Tina was on her, straddling her.  Her thumbs stabbed straight down into Molly’s nipples, her four fingers found the still-new scars in the creases under her breasts.  She squeezed, and pulled up. 

“How much can you take before they pop?”  Tina snarled.  “I’ll make you Little Molly No-Tits again, how about that?.” 

Molly’s feet hammered the carpet.  Her arms were pinned under Tina’s legs.  For Molly at that moment there was nothing in the world but pain.  She’d come here tonight, to the reunion, to show everyone how she’d changed, what a success she’d made of her life.  She’d come here, to Tina’s suite, to face her demon, the woman she hated the most.  Nothing had changed.  The demon still tortured her.  The pitchforks in her breasts were agony, but it was the humiliation that was hell.

Tina savored every scream.  Fuck law school.  Fuck exciting career.  Fuck you, Molly.  Little No-Tits.  She squeezed, as hard as she could, trying to rupture this fucking cxnt’s implants.  It took all of Molly’s strength, every ounce that she could summon from her core, to buck Tina off. 

Tina lunged back at her, but Molly’s hand closed on a set of wooden coasters, part of the crap knocked from the table, six of them in a little box mimicking drawers in a chest.  It wasn’t a great weapon, but she smashed it into Tina’s face.  The brunette crashed to the carpet next to her, stunned.

Molly leaned against the tv stand, sobbing.  She cradled her boobs, gently testing them.  Oh fuck they hurt so bad!  She never saw it coming.

From the floor, Tina kicked her, heel first.  The four inch stiletto speared straight into Molly’s right nipple.   The implant didn’t burst, but it shifted.  The center of gravity of Molly’s breast moved.  The second kick moved it more.  Molly  screamed, until the third kick landed, and she blacked out.

Molly came to, lying half in, half out of the walk-in shower in the bathroom, cold water pouring off her face.  The edge of the shower stream drummed against her horribly swollen breast.  Her nipple didn’t remotely point forward any longer.

Tina sat on the closed toilet lid, watching Molly.  When she was confident that the blonde woman was fully coherent, she stood up, took careful aim, and stomped her spike heel into Molly’s pussy.  Molly didn’t realise until that second that her panties were gone.  Her shriek echoed in the shower stall.

“Are you ready, Molly?” she asked when the shriek died.

Molly gave no answer, only sobs.  Tina turned off the water, stomped her cxnt again.  Her heel nearly ripped Molly’s clit off.

“Are you ready,” Tina said, with exaggerated patience, “to beg me to let you lick my pussy?”  She played with the shower door while she waited.  It was the kind that slid horizontally on a track.

Molly nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks.  She couldn’t bear any more.  The familiar shame of her childhood poured over her.  Everything she’d done in the past ten years didn’t matter.  The only thing that mattered was escaping the bully.

“Say it,” Tina said.

“Please, Tina,”  Molly sobbed.  “Please.”

“Please what?”  Tina cocked her head; feigning confusion.

“Please let me lick your pussy,” Molly whispered. 

“What a delightful offer!” Tina said.  She helped Molly sit up, moved her a little, made her more comfortable.  Then she gripped the shower door with both hands and smashed it shut.  The left side of Molly’s chest was in the way.  The edge of the door hit her breast like a dull guillotine.

“Let’s put a pin in it for now, shall we?”  Tina said, as she leaned on the door with all her weight.

Tina felt more alive than she had in years.  She wasn’t unscathed, and oh yes the bitch would pay more for the injuries she’d suffered, but she had proven beyond any doubt that Molly was an inferior woman, a mewling weak kitten.  Still, there was work to be done.

Molly had begged, but she hadn’t begged.   

Molly felt more dead inside than she had in years.  Her strong, slender body that she’d worked so hard to build was battered to the verge of breakdown.   Her confidence was a spider-web-cracked pane of glass, ready to shatter into shards.  She’d faced her bully and rather than crumble in cowardice, her bully had gleefully showed her she just wasn’t good enough.

Tina was a fucking sadist, and she wasn’t satisfied yet.

Tina made a leash from her satin robe belt, tied it in a slip knot around Molly’s neck, and led her on all fours back into the suite’s main room.  She made sure to pull it as tight as she could.  Molly’s wet hair hung in her downturned face.  The shower had washed the blood from her mouth but her cuts were deep enough that a fresh trickle showed at one corner already.

Scott was pacing.  His erection had faltered but at the sight of the two catfighters it came back.  He’d seen flashes of this from Tina before – he’d been one of the frat boys who watched Tina’s college titfight victory, and she’d come home to him with her rival agent’s bra – but this was a deep look into the well of his wife’s dark side.  It scared the shit out of him, because he couldn’t see the bottom of it.  It also made him harder than he’d ever been.

“Sweetie,” Tina said.  “Molly told me before that you wanted to fuck her shiny new fake titties.”  She jerked Molly up to her knees now, to display her.  Her right breast was skewed out, angry heel marks in a tight pattern at her nipple.  Her left breast was swelling fast to catch up, a livid bruise vertically marking its previous centerline, but the bulk of her no-longer-moored implant now visibly left of center.

“Not so shiny now.  Do you still want to?”  Tina asked.  She slowly sank to her knees too.  She looked up at Scott, her lips parted.  The bruise on her face where Molly had hit her was like erotic make-up.  “Or, maybe, you’d like to hold her collar while you fuck my tits instead?”  She handed him the belt, his grip close to Molly’s neck, and squeezed her breasts together.  They were slick with her sweat and freckled with Molly’s blood.  “Watch closely, bitch,” she said to Molly.

Molly and Scott both obeyed.  Tina tossed her head back as Scott’s cock thrust slowly up and down.  “Her blood hitting my tits was warm like cum,” she moaned.  “Pull tighter on her, baby.”

Molly had actually made this offer to Scott on the dance floor; it wasn’t an invented taunt just to incite Tina.  She breathed hard through her mouth now to get enough air past her choke collar, but fuck also somehow the humiliation of being forced to kneel and watch aroused her.  Jesus Christ is this who I am? she thought.

Scott grunted.  Tina squeezed him tighter.  “Choke her hard while you cum!” she ordered.  “Don’t you dare close your eyes, slut!”  He did; she didn’t. 

The first, hardest pulse spurted high up Tina’s displayed throat, drooling down to collect in the hollow at its base.  The bulk of it flowed like pale lava over the top curves of her tits.  Tina trembled.  The intensity of Scott’s explosion took her near the cliff of her own orgasm but oh no she had a plan for that.  Molly trembled a little too.

Tina pushed Scott away, taking back Molly’s leash.  His job was done, for now.  Tina pulled Molly to face her.  She arched her back.  Her tits truly were magnificent.

“Lick it off,” she said to Molly.  She saw a pleading no start to form on the blonde’s battered lips, and twisted her collar.  Molly gasped, and bowed her head.  Her tongue cleansed Tina’s skin, swept the thick clots of cum away and into her mouth.  Tina guided her to suck her nipples clean and at the same time seized her wrist and pulled her hand to her, Tina’s, pussy, pushing Molly’s fingers past her panties and into her.  Tina’s hips bucked.  The cliff was inches away.

Dimly, Molly realized she held Tina’s nipple in her teeth, that her thumbnail was an inch from Tina’s clit, that a quick twist of her two fingers would turn pleasure into an agonizing claw.  She also realized that Tina knew all these things too.  Did Tina want her to do it?  Molly looked up through tear-wet lashes and saw Tina’s eyes on her.

“You don’t have the guts, Molly,” Tina whispered.  “Once a loser, always a loser.”

In her mind, Molly did it: closed her claw, closed her teeth.  Mauled Tina’s tit and pussy until it was the brunette, and not her, who begged.  She did it then, in suite 480, and she did it every day after that, day after day; but she only did it in her mind.  Regret iand shame are slow acting cancers that kill you a little every day.

Tina was right about her.  She didn’t have the guts.

“Take your fingers out of my pussy,” Tina said, her voice softly triumphant.  “And put them in your mouth.  Get your first taste of me.”

Molly obeyed.  Tina pulled the slip knot tight, then tighter still.  She dragged Molly into the bedroom.  Scott took off his wife’s garter belt and peeled her panties off, then dutifully took the leash, keeping it tight, until Tina mounted Molly’s battered face, reverse position. 

Molly trembled as Tina ran her fingernails over her misshapen breasts.  “Nooooooooo,” she moaned.  The vibration of her voice made Tina’s clit throb.  Slowly, she rubbed it across Molly’s mouth.  Molly pulled it between her lips, sucking on it, softly at first, then harder.

It was the hardest orgasm Tina had ever had.

She fell forward onto her hands, still grinding her pussy on the helpless blonde’s face.  Her dark hair hung in her face, her breasts swayed in opposing circles.  The second hardest orgasm of her life hit her.  She kissed Molly’s belly button, dragged her tongue down her stomach as she stretched forwards, like a cat.  When her lips closed on Molly’s clit in a celebratory 69, and Molly moaned again, the bond was sealed.

They rolled to their sides.  Molly tilted her head, seeking air, her face wet.  Tina tightened her thighs on her neck.  Molly stiffened, her lips parted, her eyes wide.  Tina moved on her elbow, arching Molly’s back.  She could see her face, just over her hip. 

“I know I said you’d lick my pussy when I was done,” Tina said.  “You are so stupid, to trust me.”

Molly couldn’t breathe.  That meant she couldn’t scream, when Tina’s claws bit into her tits.

There would be another reunion in five years.  Tina made a mental note to volunteer for the planning committee.

The End

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