“Hello Gemma. It’s me..Becca.”
“Yeah, I know it’s you. I can tell my sister’s voice. Have Martians landed and shot the President?”
“Don’t be silly, Gemma! Or course not!”
“Well…to what other earth-shattering event do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
I rolled my eyes. “Hey Gemma. I’m your sister.”
“Yeah…you and Kate are the good sisters…the ones who went to college, with the good jobs and the good men. I’m the good-for-nothing sister…the sales girl who sleeps around…the one you and Kate hardly want anything to do with.”
I took a deep breath. I hated it when she got the chip on her shoulder. I hated it even more because it was, at least partly, true. “Gemma, please. We were going out to the Halloween fancy dress party together.”
She pounced on my words immediately. “We were. I wondered when you’d call to tell me you and Andrew had changed your minds. I guess the hottest party of the year isn’t worth putting up with me, huh.”
“Gemma, please. Its not like that. I still want to go. It’s Andrew. He’s changed his mind. He wants to go hunting with his buddies instead.”
.
“What?”
“Yes, he’s had a better offer.” I didn’t need to feign the sarcasm in my voice. I was really annoyed at Andrew.
“It’s about time you got a better boyfriend,” replied Gemma. “I thought he’d changed. Didn’t you change his mind about going hunting after that pool party a couple of months ago? The one where you fought that co-ed…what was her name, Sara? Damn, I wish I’d seen that!” She laughed. “Rebecca Anne Buchan unbending enough to brawl with a redhead in her prissy older sister’s pool. Who'd have thought?”
"I thought so too,” I admitted. I quickly steered the conversation away from fighting. It would never do for Gemma to know my kink; to find out that the fight she’d heard about wasn’t my first full-on fight but, in fact, my fourth. I knew she'd find a way to use that against me if she could. “He decided against one hunting trip after that. But now he wants to go away again. He’s going off to some forest in Minnesota. He’ll drink too much, camp out and come home stinking, not having washed for days. Then he’ll expect me to carve up a deer. I never want to taste venison again.
“But it’s worse. He was going to the party, and now he’s not…but that doesn’t mean you and I can’t go.” I threw in a sop to Gemma. “I’m looking forward to spending some time with you. I’ve shut you out for way too long. It’s time to change that.”
I had to choose my words carefully. If Gemma wasn’t my ticket to the party, I wouldn’t be crawling to her like this. But she was – somehow she knew the organisers of the best pre- and post-parties for the Haunted Hotel fancy dress ball. The parties were by invitation only, and she had somehow gotten those invitations and dangled them in front of me.
“Well…thanks…I guess…”
I decided to sweeten the deal a little. “How about we meet for coffee after work and then hit the fancy dress stores?”
"Wow, you really are extending the olive branch!” I raised an eyebrow at Gemma’s choice of words. I didn’t think she even knew what an olive branch was. “It’s more like the whole tree!” She laughed again. “Are you sure you are feeling okay?”
“Enough sarcasm…just answer me. Yes or no?”
“Sure…I'll meet you. Just tell me where and when.”
We struck a time and I met my sister the next day. We had a quick coffee – I hoped I didn't appear rude. After all, I wanted those tickets but I couldn't stand too much of my sister's constant verbal jabs. Then we were onto the fancy dress shops. We wandered around, my bile rising. I was annoyed because the sales people were no use at all, and because the fancy dress gear was just that – fancy dresses, but nothing that excited me. Sure, there were some costumes but who wanted to look like Mary Antoinette or Joan of Arc? I was also angry at Gemma becasuse she was – well, Gemma, the same dirty minded, coarse sales clerk, as cheap as the store where she worked. It never ceased to amaze me that we were sisters. I was angry at myself for stooping so low, for being so desperate to go to this party that I'd hang out with Gemma.
Most of all though, I was angry – no, furious – at Andrew because he'd left me to go hunting. He was the reason I was trolling around these stores. He was the reason I had to pretend to be nice to Gemma. I knew I wasn't going to the party just – or even mainly – to have a good time. I certainly wasn't going because I wanted to spend time with Gemma. I was going to the party to – at least in my own mind – get some payback at Andrew.
“Oh my god! It’s perfect! Gemma, look!” I pulled the outfit off the rack.
Gemma’s eyes widened. “Becca! You’d never wear that!”
I had to admit it was pretty risqué for me – it was something that Gemma was more likely to wear. Nevertheless, I couldn’t resist the temptation. “Why not? I’m going to try it on, right now. I’ll just ask the sales clerk.”
When I strode out of the fitting room a few minutes later, Becca’s mouth dropped open. “Oh wow! Becca!” The pin striped skirt – so short that my panties showed when I bent to put on my shoes - was hemmed at the bottom with white lace. It was fastened by three buttons at the side and was even shorter there. The blouse – if you could call it that – was more a skimpy bustier and hung from my shoulders by two spaghetti straps. It was no more than a white bodice atop a pinstriped corset. It ended a few inches north of my navel and showed how flat my tummy was. Capping it all was a collar, just like the collar on a man’s business shirt, even complete with a tie. There was no shirt however – the collar was just that and no more.
“That is so sexy…so hot!” added Gemma. “What’s Andrew going to say when he sees you in that?”
“He won’t. All he’ll see is photos. I’m only going to wear it on Halloween, not before. He wants to go away hunting, fine. He can just miss out!”
”Photos?”
“Yeah, I’ll make sure I get some of me at the parties…dancing, drinking, chatting.”
“Making out too!” Gemma smirked. “Every guy is gonna want you in that!”
“Maybe that too!” I grinned. “Who knows? What I do know is I’ll make Andrew so wild he didn’t come!” I gave her a wink. “And that is all I care about just now. Come on, let’s do this!” I paid for the outfit and we walked out of the store. “Thanks, Gemma. I’ll see you in two days. I’ll pick you up and we can go to the pre-party together.” I was so pleased with myself, I even gave her a kiss on the cheek.
*****
“They're all looking at you, Becca!” It was about 7.30 and we had just walked into the pre-party, in a big ballroom in one of the hotels. The doorman had smiled appreciatively at me, which I decided was high praise from someone who saw so many costumes.
“Yes, I know they are,” I smirked and added inwardly, “and you don't like it one bit, do you Gemma?” Gemma had always been the one who wanted to grab all the attention. Maybe that was why she always misbehaved.
The pre-party was good; lots of food, what Gemma called a ‘shitload’ of drink and even more eye candy. I ate, drank, danced and talked. The party was only partly spoiled by a stupid woman in a cavalier costume, complete with mock sword, plastic breastplate and a hat as big as the Quangle Wangle Qee’s in Edmund Lear’s poem. I was getting a drink when she swished past, hand on her sword's pommel. She pushed down on it, making the tip rise and knock my hand so that I spilled my drink over the man in front of me. As it turned out, she almost almost did me a favour with that– the guy was very good-looking and my fumbling apology opened an opportunity for me to strike up a conversation. He proved to be as exciting as he looked. We chatted and I coaxed him onto the dance floor.
We moved on to the main party – the Haunted Hotel ball – which was more of the same. It almost felt like an anti-climax since it had all the special effects and geegaws that Halloween parties usually have, but nothing new. I guessed it was hard to come up with a new effect for what was a very old tradition. There was nothing to complain about though. The food was plentiful, the drink flowed freely and the men wanted to dance and talk. I could very easily have forgotten Andrew altogether, but I didn’t. I made sure that Gemma – who seemed to be having just as good a time as I was – took plenty of photos so I could remind Andrew of just what he was missing.
Gemma met a guy at the main party. He and she found me with the guy I'd met when I spilled my drink over him. He had moved on, too. “Come on Becca! It’s time to hit the post-party!”
All four of us trotted off. “I hope you got some good photos to wow Andrew with," I whispered to Gemma.
“Even you won't like the ones I have of him,” she replied, glancing at the guy I was with, “mauling you on the dance floor.”
I winked. “Just a bit of dirty dancing.”
“He had his hand inside your top!”
“So? You’re just jealous. You haven’t scored tonight.” I paused and added, nodding at her new companion, “At least not yet. But I’m sure you will.”
The guy I was with interrupted us as he took my arm and leaned in close. “Becca, can I have your phone number, please?”
“Err…sure, but why ask now?” I was puzzled. The evening was just getting started. I had plans for this guy.
“I’m going to have to skip the rest of the evening. It’s a long way home and I have to work tomorrow.”
Damn. “That’s too bad,” I pouted. I kissed him and gave him my cell phone number. I walked with him to the door of the bar and kissed him again, a little longer this time, giving him something to remember me by, something to make him want to phone me. He left, apologizing, and I walked back to Gemma.
Naturally, she couldn’t leave it alone. “What was that about not scoring?” she giggled. “Seems like you chose a dud.” She was insufferable.
I shrugged as though I didn’t care, but it was then that I decided I’d pay her back as well as Andrew. I was going to take her man off her. See how she liked that. “Hey, how about I buy you and – err, what’s your name? – a drink,” I offered, and smiled at the man she was with.
“Ross,” he replied.
“Ok, Ross,” I smiled at him again. I leaned forward as I got up, giving him a good look down my top. “Have a drink with me to help me drown my sorrows.” I made sure I brushed his arm as I stepped past him.
.
On the way to the bar I ran into – almost literally – Vicki Goodman, a friend from way back. “Hey Bec! You look great! And no, it’s not just that outfit.” She laughed. “No, maybe it is, but I’ve never noticed just how commanding you look… those smoky eyes that gaze steadily, that expression! I’d hate to cross you!” I thanked her and we chatted in the line at the bar, then went our own ways.
A few minutes later I had gotten the drinks and was back with Gemma and Ross at the table. We chatted and I kept asking Ross questions about himself. There was little that any man liked to talk about more than himself. I found out that he was home on leave from Japan, where he was stationed with the Navy. He’d come to the ball that night with a group of friends but hadn’t seen them in hours. “It’s so packed, and anyway, I’m happy with you two lovely ladies.”
“Why, thank you!” I smiled, brushing his arm again as Gemma glowered. He wasn’t just ‘with’ her. Then Gemma excused herself to go to the bathroom, and was gone a while. I supposed there was the usual crush at the ladies’ room. Finally I said to Andrew, “Let’s dance.”
Ross smiled. He didn’t need to be asked twice. We got up. I was in luck – first there was a raunchy tune during which everyone else was groping their partner. I just joined in. After that, a slow ballad made everyone romantic and we danced close too. He had a good, hard body and he got rather acquainted with mine too. By the time the bracket ended, I knew I had Ross exactly where I wanted him.
I sighed. “I suppose we’d better find Gemma.”
“Aww , do we have to?” he replied. “Let me buy you another drink, Becca.” He slid his arm round my waist and kissed me.
“Don’t you do that again!” I hissed, slapping his face hard. He had groped inside my top.
“Äww, Becca.” He removed his hand.
“Do it again and I’ll knee you in the balls,” I added, with a wink to let him know I was teasing – maybe.
“Yes, Ma’am ,” he replied docilely.
I kissed him. He kissed back. I slid my tongue inside his mouth and ground myself against his crotch. He was that hard. I broke the kiss. “You know who’s in charge.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes Ma am.”
“And you like it.” Again, I wasn’t asking. I knew.
He nodded. ”Yes.” I had him where I wanted him, and I told myself I’d have him later that night. To hell with what Gemma thought about it.
“Ouch!” I whirled round to see who or what had jabbed me in the back. I half suspected that Gemma was after some revenge, but it was the toy sword of that woman in the cavalier costume, whose earlier clumsiness had caused me to spill my drink. My immediate aggravation was quickly displaced by a much more pleasurable thought. If Ross liked dominant women, he was sure to appreciate aggressive women too. After all, that was how most dominant women proved their dominance.
“Who are you and what do you think you’re doing?” I glared at the other woman, stepping in front of her, blocking her way.
She immediately bristled. “My name is Clara and I think I'm enjoying myself at a Halloween party,” she replied sarcastically. “What’s it to you anyway?”
I smiled inwardly at her sharp retort. Here was a woman who was just as ready to fight as I was. “Well, Clara...maybe you've enjoyed yourself too much. You need to be more careful. To start with, you should keep that toy sword to yourself…not stick it in people's ribs…not jostle them so they spill their drinks.”
“And you should wear some clothes,” she shot back. “It’s a fancy dress party, not an undress party. You look like a cheap hooker.”
I stepped closer, glaring. “At least I’ve got the body for it.” I sized her up. She was about two inches shorter than me – probably 5 feet 4 – and about 15 pounds heavier – maybe 150 or so. I had to admit though, most of that extra weight was muscle, or at least well distributed. She had a good bust and butt. She carried off her costume well. I clapped my hands on her shoulders. “Get out now, and I won’t hurt you. Stick around and I’ll punish you for that insult.” I shoved hard.
Clara took a step back from the shove. Her eyes were wary but not confused or afraid. This was a woman who was used to getting physical. Good. That would make it all the better when I kicked her ass in front of the whole party, and particularly in front of Ross. She defended herself, her arms in front as she began to circle me, as if she was waiting for a good spot to break in or to take advantage of a rush.
I moved with her, watching hawk-like. I sent a hard right jab towards her face, hoping she would swing her hands up to defend and that my left fist could then break through and strike her stomach. My feint worked. Even though she kept one hand down, she found she couldn’t defend against both blows. She only succeeded in deflecting my left slightly. It hit and she buckled forward a fraction, grabbing my left leg as if to yank it up.
She clearly thought that would help her, as it might have if I was drunk or stupid. I was almost sorry to disillusion her. With my legs planted firmly on the floor, I bent forward and slammed my left fist into her kidney region. She groaned, tugged at my leg and, failing again to weaken my stance, chopped at the back of my knee.
I groaned in my turn – the chop hurt. My left leg momentarily buckled. Stepping back with my right leg and bracing myself, I aimed a left jab at her kidney region again, my right aimed at her shoulder. “Let go, slut!”
Cara realised too late that I’d re-established my stance – too late because although she let go, although she blocked my blow to her kidney, my fist still pounded her side just below her shoulder. I don’t think she even saw it coming. She scampered back, straightened up and resumed her defensive stance, looking a little the worse for wear.
I’d won the first round, though she’d damaged my leg. I’d be a little slower – not quite a limp, but not as good as I should be. I glanced at a smiling Ross. I was right – he liked aggressive women. I planned to show him a lot more aggression before I was through. I closed in, aiming a sharp left jab at Cara’s right side, hoping to hit her but hoping much more to mask a massive slug at her midriff. I was going all out to put her down as fast as I could. I wasn’t defending, just fighting with pure aggression. That would please Ross and I was also confident it would also end the bitch sooner.
Cara retreated instead of parrying one of my blows and leaving herself open to the other. Before I had my arms back defensively though, she bent forward and charged. She crashed into my breasts and I groaned, staggering back, but I still expected to inflict more damage. At the last moment, I brought my left leg up, hoping to hit what I wanted to think was her already weakened midsection. Let her have her little victory; I’d still do her over.
Her blow hurt more than I expected and I gasped, but my knee hurt her too. She doubled over, clutching her tummy with her hands. She recovered quickly though, shoving her side into my damaged leg before I could return it to the floor, then swinging her own leg up to strike my thigh. I had to retreat.
“Hang in there girl! Guard that leg!” Some redhead cheered me. For a second I wondered whether Cara had annoyed other people besides me. Maybe I wondered for too long. In that moment, Cara pressed her attack again, swinging punches at my midsection.
“That’s it, girl!” I was amazed to hear Gemma cheer my foe on. “Work the body and her head will fall!” Bitch – she’d pay for that, but right now I had other priorities.
Cara’s first and second punches hit hard. I’d forgotten how hard a solid bitch like her could hit. I groaned and staggered back, gasping and panting after those two powerful blows. I felt the bile rise in my throat as though I was about to vomit. I tried to parry, to block her next punch with my right hand and to hit her back. I was lucky to block that third punch and even luckier when I hit her gut. I think she was on such a roll – like I had been a few moments before – that she didn’t think I’d be able to strike back. She hunched forward and I knew I’d hurt her. I closed on her, planning another punch when her knee hit my side. It sank in deep. I hadn’t anticipated that. I groaned again, reeling back. I knew I had to back off and regroup or this bitch was going to walk all over me.
She kept at me, but made the mistake of trying to repeat her last move. I saw her leg come up and pivoted on my own right leg, trying to escape, and sent what I hoped was a show-stopping punch to her weakened stomach. She tried – too late or too slow – to block it. My fist sank in and she doubled over gasping. I began to hope I was winning. Maybe I’d winded her. I knew I needed to – she was wearing me out. Sweat ran down my face and upper body, my belly pulsed with each deep breath as I sucked in air. I closed in on her side, hammering my fists into her upper body. Three punches landed on her side before she blocked me, grabbing onto my arm.
“Let go bitch!” I hissed, trying o pull her up, though in fact I hoped she’d keep her grip. I was going to slam her midriff, but I misjudged her. She dropped to one knee; her weight and her counter-pull dragging me down too. I shook my head, trying to regroup, but she kept her hand on my arm . She wedged herself under my arm, trying to tug it over her body. I gasped with the realization that the bitch was trying to flip me over her shoulder. The bitch was cunning as well as tough. I braced myself, standing firm. Bending forward, I pounded her side with my free hand as I tugged to free the one she held.
She dropped one of her hands to her side, weakening her grasp on my arm. Again I tried to yank her upright but again the bitch outsmarted me. She let go of my arm and kicked, sweeping around the back of my weakened knee. I fell heavily. She scampered over, trying to get to me before I got up. She’d pin me if she succeeded. I couldn’t let that happen. I was up on one knee and as she swung her arms up to my shoulders to force me back again, I let fly with a left-right combo, aimed at her middle. “Now I’ve got you!” I crowed, knowing if I was wrong, then she would probably have me instead. I was nearly exhausted.
But I had her! Both fists hit and she buckled, flopping onto her side. She curled up but made one last effort, kicking out with both legs. One foot grazed my breast but did no real damage. I lunged at her and grabbed her shoulders to pin her. She groaned and shook her head. I had her. It was over.
I could have hurt her some more but I didn't see the point. She was finished. I stood up, leaving her there. “Gemma, get me some ice.” She saw the look in my eyes and disappeared into the crowd.
“Wow, Becca!” Ross was almost trembling with excitement. “That was one incredible fight! You are one tough babe!” He held out his arms. I hugged and kissed him, pressing myself against him, sweaty as I was. I could feel him, hard against my belly. I smiled to myself.
Gemma came back with some ice and towels. Ross applied the ice then dried me off. I kissed him again. Part of me was silently daring Gemma to make an issue out of it - my sister had cheered for Clara – but another part of me knew I wasn’t in any shape to give Gemma the beating she deserved. Not tonight.
“Ross,” I looked him in the eye, “I need a hot coffee, a cold shower and you…in that order. Call a cab, sailor. You’re staying with me tonight!”
My thanks to all who helped especially the Scribbler and Laurie Breeze
This is the fourth in chornology so far in the Becca series. It comes after
Becca’s first fight
Becca’s Beach volleyball Bout
Becca's BBQ Bash
but before
Becca v Jenn
More than She Expected Becca's pool fights 
