WHEN A GOOG GIRL GOES BAD: The Adventures of Elle
By: Supporturgoddess
There are good girls and there are bad girls. Good girls are so very cute, pure, and sweet. Their coos and sighs, pouts and tears can melt the coldest hearts and gain the lifelong loyalty of even the most independent men. Bad girls are the living embodiment of all the things men aren’t supposed to want…but do. They are bold and imaginative, teasing and tempting. Most men would give anything for a taste of someone so hot! Good girls and bad girls are historic arch rivals, enemies who hold each other in contempt. The line between the two is usually clear, but on rare occasions, a very good girl becomes curious about the other side, turns bad, and takes a walk on the wild side!
Ellen Jean Sharp burst through the doors of her tiny duplex, kicking off uncomfortable black heels with such force they flew across the room and bounced off the far wall.
Ellen hissed, “How DARE she do that…to ME?”
She stormed into her bedroom, wiggled out of her little black dress, trading it for a comfortable pair of cut-off shorts and a T-shirt. She stomped into the kitchen, threw open the refrigerator, and seized a small container of her favorite French-vanilla ice cream. She then stormed into her cramped living room. She tossed back very short, blond hair which ended well above her shoulders, plopped down on a worn sofa, brought her bare feet up onto the cushions, and crossed her legs around the little bucket of ice cream.
“Who does she think she is?”
Elle shoved a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She looked around at her tiny, dreary apartment. Life didn’t seem fair. She was a good girl who got good grades, worked hard, and did everything she was told to do. She never hurt anyone. She did everything right. Why, then, was her life so empty and so…boring? Wasn’t there any way she could add some thrills to her life?
Elle’s lips curled into a sneer, as she thought back to the events that put her into her dark mood. She woke that morning feeling fine. She got up, showered, followed her usual morning routine, and then put on her cutest little black dress and matching heels. Perhaps the dress was just a bit sexy for church, but in tiny towns, churches often serve as more than houses of worship. They are community centers where people meet to get to know each other and to discuss and find answers to their problems.
Elle had one problem in particular. Despite being one of the prettiest young women in town, Elle’s strict, good-girl expectations proved too much for most men to live up to. She had one hard, fast rule that kept getting in her way. Elle insisted that if a man wanted to be with her, he had to stop fantasizing about other women. The 5’1” tall, twenty-two-year-old fit most men’s idea of true beauty, and yet she couldn’t hold onto a man. Sooner or later, she caught all her boyfriends breaking her rule. She caught one ex-lover looking at internet porn. She followed another to a local strip club. Why, she wondered, did they need that stuff? Wasn’t she enough for them?
Desperately lonely, the little blonde wanted to meet someone new. That was a challenge in a tiny farm community, where everyone knew everyone, and couples paired off in high school.
Elle’s blue eyes narrowed, as she recalled the events just prior to her return home. During the church service, she caught Kirk Krueger staring at her legs. Though far from rich, Kirk had money. He had a good job and a nice house. He was tall and handsome. Unfortunately, he was also the new husband of Elle’s childhood friend, Becca Martin.
Elle and Becca had been best friends since they were in kindergarten. They were the town’s cutest, sweetest girls. There was always some debate over who was the cuter and sweeter of the pair. The town generally gave brunette Becca the edge in both categories, but no one would say for sure. One girl was rarely seen in town without the other. They even attended college together, where they became roommates. There they encountered the first real threat to their friendship. They both set their sights on the same guy. The competition grew fierce, leading to a shouting match. Elle stormed off but then returned, ready to have it out with Becca, once and for all. As she approached her dorm room, she hears sobbing. She crept up and found Becca holding a picture of the guy, tears in her eyes. Aware of how desperately Becca wanted the young man, Elle’s good girl nature forced her to make a tremendous sacrifice. She couldn’t bring herself to break her best friend’s heart. Elle gave up, telling Becca she could have the boy. Elle was even a bridesmaid at their wedding.
Everything might have worked out, but both Elle and Becca found themselves returning to their old hometown after college. While Elle struggled, Becca thrived. Though Elle still helped out in every way she could, she had to work long hours. She could barely keep he own head above water. Becca, by contrast, didn’t have to work. Her husband’s wealth ensured an easy life. She volunteered here and there, just to break up the boredom. That made it seem she was more giving. Before long, Becca had officially won the title of top good girl from Elle. Worse still, Becca took every opportunity to gloat. There’s an old saying that it’s not enough to succeed, unless your friends also fail. After spending so many years thought of as only one half of a pair, Becca reveled in coming out on top. She wallowed in her success and shoved it in Elle’s face. She would show up where Elle worked, just to buy some little something and to inform Elle her husband was taking her to the beach, knowing full well Elle had to work all day. Becca bragged about her huge new home, knowing Elle lived in one half of a tiny duplex. For Elle, the bitterest pill came from the knowledge all of Becca’s success and power came from her man, a man Elle had stepped back and allowed her to have!
Elle couldn’t help but feel some wicked satisfaction that morning in church, seeing Becca’s man salivating over HER legs!
She privately thought, “What’s wrong, Kirk? Aren’t Becca’s skinny little legs as good as mine?”
Unfortunately, Becca also saw what was happening. She saw her husband drooling over Elle’s legs, and she saw Elle’s smirk. Becca’s hair-trigger temper went off. She stewed in a pot of boiling jealousy.
When the service ended, Elle exited the church and spotted a small group of women at the far end of the sidewalk, gathered together, laughing. Thinking they had some juicy gossip, she hurried toward them. She hit the brakes, as she overheard them and discovered that SHE was the object of their ridicule!
“Her dress is disgusting,” an old woman said. “This is a church, not a cocktail bar!”
A much younger voice rang out. “She’s pathetic! She’s so desperate to get a man that she’ll wiggle her big, white butt at any male over eighteen! All she has is blond hair and big boobs. It takes more than that to get a real man. A real man wants a real woman. I should know! Elle doesn’t have the body or the brains to keep a good man happy.”
Elle recognized the voice coming from her former best friend, Becca Martin. Elle was simultaneously flooded with opposite emotions. Her temper raged, but her heart also broke. Most women would have confronted the backstabber then and there, but the good girl in Elle put up a barricade. ‘Good girls don’t get into cat fights,’ a little voice inside her said, ‘especially not on a Sunday, in front of a church!’
At that moment, the “church ladies” saw Elle standing there. They snickered. Becca stood proud of her handiwork, hands on her sides. She practically dared Elle to swing at her, knowing the good girl wouldn’t dare fight on a Sunday. Poor Elle didn’t know what to do. She’d lost her best friend, been stabbed in the back, and been publicly humiliated, all within seconds.
“I hate you, Becca Martin!” Elle shouted, and then ran to her car.
Elle snapped out of thoughts. She ran her fingers through her bangs and then swept them back through hair so light it was almost white.
“Yeah,” she whispered, “I’m a good girl. I’m always nice. I put everyone else first. Where has it gotten me? Prissy, backstabbing Becca gets the man and the good life, the cars and the mansion, while all I get is a ratty place and a job I hate! It’s not fair! Some people say good guys finish last. Well, that goes double for good girls!”
She curled hair over her ears and then swept her hand down out light-blond hair that ended well above her shoulders. She picked up a remote and started searching for something to watch, just to get her mind off her troubles. She came across an advertisement for one of those ’Wild Girls’ video collections. She thought back to all the boyfriends who had broken her sweet little heart by watching such entertainment.
She let out a heavy sigh. “What’s the big deal? What’s the allure of this stuff, anyway? What makes it so irresistible to guys? Why are good guys so drawn to girls who are so…bad? I just don’t understand!”
***
Throughout the next few days, questions haunted Elle’s mind. She could begin to understand why men would find stripping, mud wrestling and such things stimulating, but why would women do it? Even if she assumed some of the girls lacked an education or had come through hard times, most of the women shown dancing around poles and wrestling were certainly attractive enough to find a man to take care of them. Why did they choose to do…this? What was the attraction? What did the WOMEN get out of being “bad”?
Elle had to know the answer! Day by day, she grew more and more curious.
***
At the end of the week, Elle was determined to show Becca that she couldn’t run her off. She squeezed into the shortest, tightest shorts she owned and put on a sexy top, leaving the top few buttons open, to show off her impressive breasts. She then headed out to another infamous small-town hunting ground…the local supermarket. Being Becca’s former best friend, she knew the little brunette’s schedule well. Elle went to the supermarket knowing Becca would be there, intent on having a little sweet revenge.
Once there, Elle quickly spotted Becca and her husband, Kirk, down an aisle. Elle positioned herself in a spot where the young couple couldn’t avoid her, knowing they’d come past her when they rounded the corner. When she saw the wheels of their cart coming around the bend, she went to work. She bent over, pretending to examine some item at the bottom of a store shelf. She heard the cart come to an abrupt halt. Though she could see Kirk and Becca reflecting in a mirror, she kept her back to them, acting as though she was unaware of their presence behind her. She could almost feel Kirk’s eyes drinking in the sight of her lovely hips, jutting out at him. Then she reached up to a top shelf, showing off more of her cute little body. Elle knew Kirk couldn’t keep his hungry eyes off her, and that had Becca boiling mad with jealousy!
Just when Elle was sure she had her enemy on the ropes, Becca threw back shoulder-length, brown hair and stepped forward.
“Hi,” she said in a sickeningly sweet and obviously disingenuous tone. “We almost didn’t see you there. I guess we’re lucky your butt was too big for us to get around.”
Kirk tried not to laugh. Elle had expected to go on the attack, not to be attacked! Caught flat-footed by the counter blow, she couldn’t respond. Sure, maybe her hips were a little wider than skinny Becca’s, but--
“Oh, dear,” Becca continued. “Are you here to buy new clothes? I see you’re down to wearing rags.”
Totally off guard, Elle stammered, “I--I….”
The gut shot had Elle on wobbly ankles. The next shot sent her down to the canvas.
“Well, we can’t all marry into money. There’s a dollar store down the street. Maybe you can find something you can afford there.” She then spun to Kirk. The prissy brunette cooed. “You asked me where I wanted to vacation this year. Why don’t we go to Paris?”
Elle inadvertently gasped. Becca knew very well that seeing Paris had been Elle’s dream, ever since childhood. It was Becca’s way of letting Elle know that she would live the dreams Elle could never reach.
Figuratively speaking, Elle lie sprawled at Becca’s feet, down for the count. Her plan had backfired. All she could do was to stand there and watch as Becca gave her a victorious, prissy smile, and walked away.
Elle raced to her car and sped off. She drove around town for hours. She felt tears welling in her ice-blue eyes, but she fought them back. Life just wasn’t fair!
Becca suddenly shouted, “Becca Martin, you can go to Hell!”
She slapped her palm over her mouth. Good girls don’t use such language…especially not on Sundays! As she drove, however, her eyebrows slanted down. She had been a good girl all her life. All it ever got her was a miserable life and a friend-turned-enemy rubbing her face in her failures. She decided she wouldn’t take it back. She wasn’t sorry. She meant it!
Lost in thought, she failed to pay attention. Her car ran out and slowed to a stop. Worse still, her skin-tight shorts and revealing top left her nowhere to carry her phone. She had left it at home.
“Can this day get any worse?” She asked.
Elle slowly walked back into town. She approached the nearest house and heard noises coming from the open garage. She followed them. She entered the garage and found an old schoolmate, Greg Baker, struggling to paint the walls.
He gave her a cheesy grin. “Elle Sharp, is that you? What are you doing here?”
“My car broke down outside of town. Can I call a cab?”
“Sure.”
Elle looked over the half-painted room.
Greg explained, “My wife made me promise to finish today.”
Elle remembered Greg’s wife from their school years. Beverly Campbell had been the meanest, most fiery tempered little tomboy and tramp in town. She had a short fuse and the morals of a cheap prostitute. How could Beverly Campbell keep a man, when she couldn’t?
“You probably remember how much of a spitfire my wife can be,” Greg said. “I promised her I’d finish today, but--”
Elle smirked. “You watched the game, didn’t you?”
Greg nodded. “Beverly will be back in a couple of hours. She’s going to kill me!”
Ever the good girl, Elle said, “You’re helping me out, so I’ll help you. Hand me a brush. If we work together, we can finish the garage in no time. Then I can call a cab and be gone, long before Beverly gets back.”
“Thanks, Elle. You’re such a good girl.”
Elle sighed. “Yeah, I know I am….”
The two went to work on opposite walls.
After a few moments, Elle spoke up. “Beverly Campbell, huh? I never imagined you’d marry…her.”
Greg rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know. She can be a real pain. She’s just that way, I guess.”
“Then why marry her?”
“I know there were prettier girls in town, but girls like you and Becca were so…uptight. A guy couldn’t get anywhere with the…good girls. Beverly let it all hang out. She was more fun.”
There it was. Good girls were seen as boring and uptight, while bad girls were deemed fun. Good girls always seemed to lose to bad girls. Elle frowned.
“Anyway,” Greg said, “I doubt we’ll stay together. All Bev does is complain. Nothing I do is right. She yells at me 24/7.”
“Why don’t you leave her?”
“I guess I’m waiting for…someone better to come along.”
Elle’s heart raced. She knew what he was suggesting, but she didn’t say a word.
They went back to work. Elle concentrated on the north wall. Greg concentrated on Elle. She felt his gaze drinking up every inch of her form. Her full lips curled into a tiny, suppressed smile. After all she had endured that day, it was nice to have a man want her, even if he was a married man.
Elle scampered up a ladder.
“I’d better steady you,” Greg said.
Greg took a firm grip, not of the ladder, but of Elle. After a couple of minutes, Elle felt Greg’s thumbs rubbing her ankles, admiringly. Then his hands moved slowly up her shapely legs.
Her heart pounded. He was practically groping her, and yet she was not resisting him. It had been so long since a man had touched her like that! It felt good, for all the wrong reasons, but it still felt good! It wasn’t Greg’s touch alone that left Elle breathless. It was the undeniable fact that Greg had a wife, Beverly, but wanted Elle more! She felt exhilarated and more alive than ever before! He chose her…over Beverly! She was the one desired, the girl on top! She began to understand how good it can feel to at least flirt with the dark side.
Then, the little voice inside her cried out, ‘Stop it, Elle! He’s a married man!’
Heart racing, Elle gasped. “I’m coming down.”
Greg steadied the ladder as Elle stepped down. He never let go. She turned, trapped between the ladder and a married man who clearly wanted her. Her clear, ice-blue eyes stared into his.
He asked, “Did you ever wonder how things might have been if we had --”
“Yeah….”
Greg dangled forbidden fruit before her eyes. Her little mouth watered, hungry for a taste. Elle’s blue eyes widened, as Greg lowered and pressed his lips against hers. Before she could stop herself, her eyes were closed and her mouth was open. She made only the feeblest of attempts to push him off. In moments, he had her blouse unbuttoned, revealing her bra. Elle prepared to give in to her desires.
“What in Hell is going on here?”
Greg’s wife, Beverly, stormed into the garage.
Horrified, Elle gasped. “It’s not what…. I mean, I didn’t mean to--”
SLAP!
It all happened in a blur. First came the feel of Beverly’s soft palm across Elle’s lips, then a burning sting, the sensation of a room spinning around her, and finally the hard impact of her body striking the garage floor. She pushed up to hands and knees, fighting tears of both pain and shame. She had no excuses. She had been caught red-handed, and she knew it.
Beverly roared, “Get up! I’m not through with you, Blondie!”
Beverly delivered a vicious kick to Elle’s side. Elle cried out. She scrambled to her feet and ran for the open garage door. Beverly caught Elle by her hair. Elle screamed, feeling as if her head was on fire! Bev spun the little blonde in a half circle by her hair and sent her crashing head-first into the back wall.
Beverly slowly pulled down the garage door. “Get ready, you lousy little blonde bitch! I’m going to pull out all your hair and kick your scrawny, little round butt!”
Elle looked up and saw Greg, grinning ear to ear, loving it.
Elle rose, her face red. “First my hips are too wide, now they’re too little! Why is everyone so obsessed with my butt? Are you jealous?”
Greg laughed. “Ooh!”
SMACK!
A punch to the chin sent Elle spinning back down. Beverly leapt on Elle’s back, hitting every inch of her she could reach. Then Bev started pulling out Elle’s hair. She seized both fists full of Elle’s hair and pulled straight back. Elle screamed her lungs out, her body curving into the shape of a crescent moon. Beverly rolled the terrified, sobbing little blonde over, pinned her foe’s shoulders under her knees, and slapped Elle’s face again and again. She called Elle every vile name imaginable.
Elle lie motionless, taking a beating. She had never been in a fight. She was in a state of shock. Just when it seemed she was finished, something deep down inside the little blonde snapped. She was sick and tired of losing to “bad girls” like Beverly. Her red face twisted with hate, and her fists slowly clenched. Before she even knew what was happening, she saw her own feet wrapping around Beverly’s neck under her chin. She pulled Beverly over hard, slamming her head against the cement floor.
Elle got up, standing over her cowering, injured enemy. Elle scooped what was left of her shredded blouse up, trying to cover herself. She headed for the door again, but Beverly rose, shoving her from behind. Elle could have escaped, but instead, she slowly turned, standing her ground. Crisp slaps followed, as each girl slapped the other as fast and hard as she could. Though Elle had a far more impressive body, Bev was a more experienced fighter. She drove a closed fist deep into Elle’s exposed belly. Elle let out a long, raspy “Ohhhhh!” and fell to her knees. Beverly went down to her own knees, leaning down over Elle’s back while snaking her arms down under Elle’s chin and around her neck. Elle squealed in terror, as Beverly executed her choke hold. Elle slid her legs underneath her body, but she couldn’t push Bev off. Elle’s heart pounded. A low roar filled her ears, and a purple haze encroached upon the edges of her view. Bev was choking Elle out, fast!
Beverly looked up to her panting, excited husband. “Oh, don’t get too happy, pal! When I’m done with her, you’re next! So, you like watching me kick this weak little girl’s butt, huh? Get ready, because when I’m done, no one will want to look at her again!”
If Elle could have screamed in fear, she would have. What would Beverly do to her, if she lost consciousness? Would she strip her? Would she shave her head? Worse? Darkness swept over the little blonde. Then, suddenly, she saw light. It happened too quickly for Elle to fully take in. Acting on sheer instinct, Elle forced herself to stand straight up, lifting Beverly off her feet for just a second. She then slammed Beverly over backward, driving Bev’s body into the floor under her own. The impact of Elle’s superior body crashing down onto her own expelled most of the air from Beverly’s lungs. Beverly shuddered. She let out a low moan, followed by a half-choked sob. Elle looked down on her stunned enemy. The good girl in her told her to walk away with the victory, but the bad girl in her wanted more.
Beverly sat straight up and down on Beverly’s belly. Elle looked back over her shoulder just to be sure Greg was watching, and then she roared, “So, you thought you could push me around, huh? Well, the better woman won, didn’t she? Now, I’m going to teach you a lesson!”
With Greg loving every moment of it, Elle slapped and punched in a blur. Beverly started to cry. “Stop it! Stop it!”
Greg laughed. “Well, that’s it, Bev. You have to admit, Elle proved she’s the better girl!”
Elle’s heart raced, filled with a kind of pure excitement she had never imagined possible. She WAS the better girl! She had PROVEN it! Though she kept her pursed lips tightly together, a wide, thrilled smile spread over her face. She looked back over her shoulder, eyes sparkling, loving the sight of Greg admiring her.
He shouted, “You’re almost there, Elle! Keep going!”
Elle’s brow furrowed. What did he mean? She had Beverly beaten. What else was left to do? Then she realized that as she sat on Beverly’s stomach slapping her, she had ridden farther and farther up. Elle grinned viciously at Greg then leaned over forward, scooting up a bit more until Beverly got a face full. Elle then sat on Beverly’s face, smothering her. Beverly kicked pitifully a few times, and then her feet slid out. Elle looked back over her shoulder at Greg, giggling and wiggling her hips on his helpless wife’s face.
Elle had never felt so triumphant, so alive! She had faced another woman toe-to-toe, and beaten her in every way possible. It was wonderful, but it all went by too quickly! She wanted more! Elle suddenly got off, slapping Beverly’s face. Bev came to, looking up through tear-filled, glassy eyes.
Elle had never dreamed of being such a…bitch…but it felt s-o-o-o-o good!
Elle looked down at Bev and teased, “I wanted you to see this!”
Elle stood over the helpless young wife, her foot on Beverly’s breasts. Elle gave Bev’s husband a sly, seductive smile. She crooked her finger, calling him to her. Beverly looked up helplessly in tears of shame and defeat, as Elle French kissed Bev’s husband over her.
Elle winced, pulling back. After so many slaps to her face, she was a little too tender to kiss.
“Maybe we’ll finish another time,” Elle teased. She pressed her foot down on Bev’s breasts. “We both know your wife isn’t woman enough to stop me.”
Elle demanded the keys to Beverly’s car. “Greg, you can come by and pick it up later.” She looked down at Beverly. “If YOU give me any trouble….”
In a tiny, high-pitched voice, Beverly cried, “I won’t! I won’t! You win!”
Elle turned and left the garage. She knew that when Beverly pulled herself together, a marriage would end. She had become the infamous “other woman” good girls despise. She didn’t care. She was battered and bruised. She’d lost a little hair, and her clothes were in tatters. None of that mattered. She was a winner! Good girl Elle had stood up to a bad girl, the bully from her school years, and she had wiped the floor with her! She had proven she was not only woman enough to beat another woman in a fight, but also woman enough to take another woman’s man. Being bad felt s-o-o-o good!
As she drove away, a devilish grin appeared on Elle’s lips. “Bring it on, Becca! Talk behind my back. Ridicule me. Taunt me. Give me one good reason, and I’ll teach YOU who the better girl is, once and for all!
