Beautiful, Rich Blonde vs. Sexy, Mexican-American Maid
By: Supporturgoddess
A beautiful, blue-eyed blonde stepped onto an exercise machine and began her afternoon workout. Pale thighs pumped. Tiny, skin-tight pink shorts stretched around firm hips, which swayed in concert with blaring music. The briefest of pink tops strained to hold in round breasts disproportionately large for the woman’s 5’2” frame.
A short distance away, a beautiful Mexican-American maid toiled on her knees, working to scrub some scuff marks from an entranceway floor she had waxed earlier. The tiny, French-maid-inspired uniform she was forced to wear left her gorgeous legs almost completely exposed, allowing her knees little padding or protection from the hard, marble floor she scrubbed.
Though neither woman spoke, each held deep resentment for the other.
The young maid sighed, tossing back long, dark-brown hair. Her huge, sensual brown eyes glanced back at her employer and narrowed. She didn’t think life was fair. Why should some women have such easy lives, while others toiled, endlessly? Unlike her employer, the young maid, Mia, had no need for exercise equipment. She got a workout every day, simply by working herself to exhaustion to earn a living.
Swaying to the blaring music, Mia’s young employer, Elle, ran her fingers through her bangs, blond hair so light it was almost white. The little blonde had fought hard to get the man and the lifestyle she had always dreamed of, only to discover neither lived up to her expectations. Less than a year earlier, the blonde had been very much like her maid. She had lived in the shadow of another woman’s wealth and envied her easy life. People once said Elle was the sweetest girl in town, but she always seemed to lose out to other girls. Mostly, Elle lost out to her supposed best friend, a prissy little lady named Becca Martin. Becca got the man and the life Elle wanted, leaving her with little. Convinced that good girls finish last, the good girl turned bad. Elle stole her best friend’s husband, Kirk. After winning a tremendous fight, Elle ran Becca out of town. After his divorce was finalized, Kirk and Elle wed. Though Elle got all she wanted, it didn’t satisfy her. Kirk was wealthy, but not truly rich. He had to spend all his time working, leaving him little time for his young wife. Kirk was a miser who guarded the wealth he had acquired. He wouldn’t allow Elle to go on trips or waste money on shopping sprees. Elle’s beat down of popular Becca had turned most of her old friends against her. Elle spent her days alone in her grand house, carefree but bored out of her mind.
Little by little, Trouble brewed between Elle and her prize. Kirk became disenchanted with the blonde. He hinted strongly that his first wife had been better in the bedroom than Elle. He began to complain that Elle was lazy and failed to do enough to earn her keep.
“Just look at this place,” he argued. “It’s a mess! You don’t work! You lie around all day! Can’t you even take five minutes to pick up after yourself?”
Elle shot back, “Oh! Oh! I’m as neat as anyone! You’re the one who pulls off your socks and sweat shirts and leaves them lying around! I’m always picking up after you! I’ve offered to make dinner for you, but you hate my cooking! Are you going to pretend Becca ever lifted a finger around the house?”
Kirk’s reply deeply offended Elle. “That’s different. I expected Becca to act that way. I expected more from you, Elle.”
Elle threw up her hands. “That’s so unfair! Why does everyone expect more from me than from anyone else? Why do you hold Becca to one standard and me to another?”
Kirk shot a devilish sneer to his new wife. “Becca was worth it.”
Elle fell back from an unseen blow. She snarled. “I’m your wife, not your servant! If you want someone to run around cleaning up all your messes, hire a maid!”
Elle lived to regret those words. Kirk did hire a maid, a very young, very beautiful maid. He had her wear a revealing little French-maid-inspired uniform, which revealed beautiful legs equal to if not better than Elle’s own.
Elle was well aware that Kirk was trying to make her jealous. She fought back by becoming the boss from Hell. She made Mia’s life miserable, hoping to get her to quit. Most recently, Elle had deliberately scuffed the floor Mia had spent hours waxing, just to force Mia down on her hands and knees to scrub out the marks.
If Elle had taken a moment, she might have realized she was acting very much like Becca Martin once acted. Elle was acting exactly like the snooty, condescending women she had hated most of her life. She was becoming what she once loathed. Elle’s jealousy toward her young maid clouded her thinking.
Legs pumping, Elle finished her exercise routine. She toweled off and glanced down at Mia.
“I’m going upstairs to take a bath. These workouts leave me so sweaty! You can clean my tub when I’m done.”
“Oh, joy,” Mia whispered, sarcastically.
Elle felt annoyed by the maid’s sass. Elle added, “Wash my workout clothes before you leave today. My workouts are so intense that I really work up a sweat!”
As Mia turned to walk off, she grumbled, “Maybe you wouldn’t have to work out so much, if you ever got off your big, fat butt and did some work!”
Elle seized Mia’s arm and spun her. “What did you say?”
Mia shrank back. “Nothing….”
Angered, Elle kicked off her shoes and pulled off her socks. “Get to work cleaning my workout clothes.” She threw her sweat-drenched socks directly into Mia’s face. “Start with these!”
Mia froze, shaking in fury as the wet socks slapped across her face and fell to the floor.
Elle sneered. “Pick them up.”
Mia didn’t move.
Elle snarled. “I said pick them up! Do your job!”
The Mexican-American beauty had taken all she could. She shouted, “Why don’t YOU pick them up? Why can’t you do ANYTHING? All you do is lie around all day on your big, fat butt!”
Elle’s jaw dropped. “My butt is NOT fat!”
Mia’s head shifted side-to-side, defiantly. “It’s a lot fatter than mine!”
Elle’s hair-trigger temper erupted. “Oh! Oh! How dare you judge me, when you get your jobs by prancing around in front of married men in your stupid French maid costume, showing off your bony legs?”
Mia grinned, challengingly. “Jealous, aren’t you?”
Elle threw the palm of her hand up inches in front of Mia’s face. “Don’t even go there! My legs can beat yours any day!”
Mia laughed in Elle’s face. “Ha! I guess not! I don’t normally wear this stupid uniform, Elle. Your husband chose it and ordered me to wear it! I guess he wanted the chance to look at some hot legs…for a change!
“Ha! If I wanted to, I could steal your husband like that!” Mia snapped her fingers before Elle’s blue eyes. “The only reason I don’t take your man is because I’m not a whore like you! Oh, that’s right, Elle. I know all about you. The whole town knows how you stole your best friend’s husband and ran her out of town, just to have an easy life. That’s why you have no friends! People say you used to be a good girl, Elle, but you changed. Now, you’re trash!”
Elle shouted, “Get out of my house!” She spun Mia around and shoved her hard toward the door. Elle turned to storm away. Suddenly she felt Mia’s warm hands on her back, shoving her hard.
Elle spun, shocked and outraged. “Oh! You did NOT just do that!”
Mia boasted, “I think I just did!”
The women circled, arms apart, palms open, chins out, each daring the other to make the first move. On one side stood a 5’2” blue-eyed blonde, short hair bouncing, her voluptuous body squeezed into tiny pink shorts and the briefest of pink workout bras. Across from her stood a 5’3” Mexican-American beauty, her long, dark-brown hair falling over her shoulders and halfway down her back, dressed in a French-maid uniform.
Mia taunted, “You used to be popular! You used to have friends! Now you’re trash!”
Elle shot back, “At least I’m somebody! I’m rich! I’m somebody! You’re nothing! You don’t even matter!”
“Do you even hear yourself?” Mia returned. “You brag about the house and money you gained by beating up your best friend and stealing her husband! Is that really what you’re so proud of?”
Elle struggled for a way to respond. “At…at least I’m woman enough to get a rich man! Obviously you’re not, or you wouldn’t be on your knees scrubbing MY floor!”
Mia lips curled up into a vicious sneer. “I’m not a whore, like you! I could steal a rich man from his wife if I wanted to, Elle. In fact, I could steal YOUR man from you!”
Elle let out an intentionally mocking laugh. “You couldn’t take a man from me on the best day you ever had.”
“Really?” Mia held up a set of keys. “Do these look familiar? They’re the keys to Kirk’s cabin by the lake. He gave them to me. Your husband has been begging me to meet him out there. Your husband wants me, Elle. He’s sick of watching you lying around, spending his money. He’d leave you for me in an instant. The only reason you still have a husband is that I’m not a man-stealing whore…like you.”
SMACK! The little blonde slapped the brunette’s face.
WHAP! Mia slapped Elle back. She spun and struck her forehead on the corner of her exercise equipment. Elle cried out sharply, covering her face with both hands and turning to face the equipment, showing Mia her back. Mia froze, afraid she had seriously injured Elle.
Though now obsessed with being a “bad girl”, Elle had once been a very good girl…like Mia. She knew how good girls think. Elle faked injury, knowing it would make Mia hesitate to press her attack. She knew a good girl’s concern can be used against her, causing her to fall for dirty tricks. Mia slowly stepped close to Elle. Elle suddenly spun, slamming a small, single-hand barbell into Mia’s chest. Mia shouted harshly, spun, and fell on her front at Elle’s feet. Elle leapt down onto Mia’s back and seized Mia’s long, shiny brown hair. She alternated between yanking on the Young maid’s hair and slamming Mia’s lovely face into the floor. Mia’s gorgeous legs kicked madly behind her, sending her high heels flying off in opposite directions. Though the plush carpet in that area of the room lessened the impact, The Mexican-American beauty was in serious trouble.
Elle concentrated on pulling out as much of Mia’s hair as possible. Though Mia strained to deny Elle the pleasure of hearing her cry out, Elle finally ripped a scream of pain from the Mexican-American beauty’s throat. Satisfied, Elle pulled Mia to her feet by her hair, pulled her to the door, threw it open, and tossed the young maid out onto the yard. Elle turned to walk back inside, dusting off her hands as though she had just taken out the trash.
Elle had barely brushed her hands together once before she heard a battle cry from behind. She spun just in time to be tackled and driven back to the middle of her living room. The women broke apart. Mia sneered. She marched to the door and slammed it shut.
Mia shouted, “We’re not finished yet!”
Though she tried not to show it, Elle was scared. The tiny, blue-eyed blonde had expected her dirty tactics to end the fight early. Instead, they had only enraged the Mexican-American beauty. Elle knew she was in for a real fight! Elle tried to keep a round table between her and the outraged maid out to get her.
Elle snatched up her phone. “This is MY house! I’ll call the police!”
Mia literally growled. She lunged and wrestled the phone out of Elle’s hands. Mia threw it against a wall so hard it shattered.
Elle cowered behind the table.
Mia taunted, “Everyone knows how you got your husband, Elle. Everyone knows his Ex had you beat, until you fought dirty. Becca may have been too prissy to take it, but I don’t care if you fight dirty. You’re nothing but a spoiled, pampered little girl, with the same skin tone and body type as Pop-N-Fresh, that little animated Pillsbury dough-boy you see on TV commercials. I bet you’re about as tough as dough, too. You bit off more than you can chew tonight. I’m going to chew you up and spit you out in pieces!”
Elle couldn’t stand any more. Elle was too proud to run. She stepped out from behind the table.
“Will see who chews who to pieces!”
Mia lunged. Both women showed their inexperience and lack of real fighting skills. They threw a flurry of barely aimed slaps and punches, their flailing arms a blur. Almost every punch missed its target and merely bounced off the other woman’s arms.
Getting nowhere fast through punching, Mia reached in and seized Elle’s short, light-blond hair. Heart pounding, Elle grabbed Mia’s long, dark hair. A vicious hair pulling match began. Fingers twirled around hair until their fingernails dug into each other’s scalp. One girl pulled brutally and then the other, each yanking the other girls head sharply from one shoulder to the other. The match slowly devolved into one long tug, as each tried to inflict enough pain to force a surrender from the other. Face-to-face, a battle of hearts and wills began. Strands of brown and blond hair slowly fells to their shoulders and then to the floor. Both women fought to hold back the tears filling their eyes. Each beautiful body shuddered from pain. More and more hair fell, torn from the roots, as second-by-second, the pain grew worse and worse. Tears began to roll from brown and blue eyes. They stared at each other, each silently telling the other, ’you’ll give first! I’m better than you! You’ll see!’
Beautiful thighs quaked violently. Shapely ankles turned under. Elle’s knees began to bend. She strained to stay up, but in seconds she fell to one knee, and then to both. She could no longer avoid sniffling gasps for air, letting out tiny, high-pitched squeaks each time. Elle’s tearful blue eyes looked up in disbelief. She had lost! The good girl had proven too tough for the self-professed bad girl! Mia forced a scream of pain from Elle and then another. Elle tried to rise, but couldn’t. Toe-to-toe, Mia was too much for her!
Elle refused to lose. She had only been in a few all-out fights in her life, but that was a few more than Mia. Elle used her experience. She lunged forward, driving a sharp shoulder into Mia’s belly. Elle had actually been hoping for a low blow, but though she missed, her blow still knocked a good deal of air from Mia’s lungs. Mia let out a loud “UHhhhh!” Mia’s hands dropped purely on reflex, trying to protect her belly. Instantly Elle peppered Mia’s face with fists. Mia swayed back, barely on her feet. Elle fired a haymaker punch that had Mia spinning down. Elle was on Mia in an instant, ripping Mia’s French-maid uniform to shreds, reducing Mia to little more than her red bra and panties.
The pale white employer shook her former maid like a dog shaking a rag in its teeth, keeping Mia off balance and unable to think. Mia forced herself to her knees. Her eyes widened, seeing no trace of Elle. Mia realized the obvious too late. Elle stood directly behind her. Elle reached around, curling her fingers in Mia’s brown eyes. She then pulled them violently apart, raking her fingernails across the young Latino’s eyes and cheeks. Mia let out a wild scream. Mia grabbed her face and fell, curling into a ball at Elle’s feet. Mia started to cry.
Elle stood triumphantly over Mia. For just an instant she wondered if Mia might be faking, as Elle had faked injury earlier. One look at the maid’s convulsions of pain proved otherwise. Thrilled to be standing after a fight with a tough opponent, Elle was prepared to show mercy, until Elle’s bare foot stepped on something very soft. She looked down and saw she stood on a tuft of her own hair, which Mia had torn out. Elle’s blood boiled. Mia had pranced around in front of Elle’s husband wearing only a skimpy, French maid outfit, hadn’t she? She had threatened she could steal Elle’s husband. She had attacked her in her own house. Elle decided Mia deserved no mercy. She would give Mia no chance to recover. She went in to finish her, once and for all!
Elle pulled Mia up by her hair and was momentarily startled by the red scratches across the maid’s lovely face. She might have felt a little guilty, but she pressed her attack. Holding Mia by her hair, Elle threw her knee up between Mia’s legs. This time Elle got her low blow.
Mia cried out and fell, sitting down on her own feet. Elle drew back for the knockout punch. Mia cried out and leapt up, driving the point of her own knee between Elle’s legs! Elle’s blue eyes crossed. Mia drove in another sharp knee, and another, and another! Elle let out a deafening scream and fell to the floor, holding herself.
The women lay side-by-side on the floor. Now the battle was about more than hearts and wills. Now it was a battle of womanhood. Simply put, it was a question of who was better, who had more.
Mia tried to rise. Nauseated and teary eyed, Elle wasn’t woman enough to get up.
Mia got to her knees, looking down contemptuously at the pale, blue-eyed blonde lying face down in the carpet below her.
“Oh no, Elle,” Mia scolded, giving the blonde a firm spank to her hips. “That sort of dirty fighting might be enough to finish a wimpy little white girl like Becca, but it’s not enough to beat me! I’m a better woman than you could ever be. I plan to make that very, very clear!”
Mia kicked Elle over onto her back and then pounced on her like a jaguar taking down a meal. Mia was a woman possessed. Elle had pushed the Mexican-American beauty too far. She seized a handful of Elle’s cherished bangs, bangs which were Elle’s lifelong trademark. Mia tugged at them savagely. Elle screamed harshly, her face turning red then violet, her feet drumming upon the floor. Then came a sound like someone tearing leather or cutting vinyl. It was the terrible sound of Mia pulling Elle’s beloved bangs from her forehead. Elle’s scream could have shattered glass. The fight was over. Elle was finished. The blonde cried her eyes out in a ball at the beautiful Latino’s feet.
Mia rolled Elle over onto her back and stood triumphantly over the beaten blonde, Mia’s foot on Elle’s heaving breasts.
Mia looked down at the beaten, terrified blonde and said, “Bitch, I could tear you apart. I could take your husband, your home, and everything you own. You don’t have anything I want. I’m not a whore like you. I have pride. I earn everything I get. Any man who’s with me knows how lucky he is. That’s why my men are loyal. They don’t go looking for something better the way your men do. When a man’s with me, he knows he’s with the best! All I want is for you to lie there under my foot, looking up and knowing I’m a better woman than you could ever be. This is an image you’ll remember for the rest of your life!”
After a couple of more minutes of serious gloating, Elle turned for the door, bruised and scraped, but glowing in victory.
Elle slowly sat up on the floor. She scooped up her beloved bangs into her hands, looking down at them with tears rolling. It would take her a very long time to grow them back…if she ever could.
Something deep inside Elle snapped. She had spent most of her life as the town’s ultimate good girl, only to lose out to meaner, more manipulative women. Convincing herself that good girls finish last, Elle had turned bad. Now the good girl turned bad lie humbled and humiliated at the feet of a girl as sweet and pure as she had once been! All Elle’s dirty tactics had failed. She had still lost. She wondered, how was it possible? What could it mean? She should have realized that Mia had won not by being good or bad, but simply by being the better woman. She refused to even consider such a possibility. Surely Mia had been lucky. Surely her luck couldn’t continue.
Elle let out a battle cry and leapt at Mia. Though Mia’s reflexive backward kick had little force behind it, Mia’s assertion that Elle was built like “The Pillsbury Dough-boy” wasn’t completely off the mark. Though adorably cute, Elle’s tummy was almost completely devoid of muscles. Mia’s foot sank deep into Elle’s stomach, driving her back. The two engaged in a brief fist fight. Mia slammed fists into both of Elle’s eyes, left, then right, then left again. Elle reeled back on her heels, utterly confused and astonished by the fact she was losing…again. She just couldn’t accept that Mia was the better woman in the fight. That fact became clear however, as Mia slammed her fist to Elle’s face. Elle’s nose and lower lip seemed to explode, as if Mia had punched a tomato. Though most of the eruption was made of saliva and nasal discharge, some blood spattered across the trembling blonde’s face. Elle’s arms dropped like limp noodles at her sides. Her legs became spaghetti, her body jelly, and her ankles pudding. She stood still, waiting for Mia’s next fist to hit her. Mia’s next punch sent Elle off her feet. Elle was out cold even before she hit the floor. Elle lie spread eagle on her back at the Mexican American beauty’s feet, her arms and legs as wide apart as possible, eyes closed in defeat.
Mia dusted off her hands. She wrote Elle’s husband a quick note and left it on his beaten wife. Part of the note read, “I don’t need this in my life! I can do better than you, Kirk. Don’t try to contact me again! Oh, by the way, you can take this job and shove it! I quit!” She looked down at the pale lump of flesh on the floor at her feet and added, “Ah, well, since I quit, I don’t have to take out the trash. I just left her where I finished her!”
***
When Elle finally regained consciousness, she saw that Mia was gone. Mia had shoved Elle’s sweaty sock into Elle’s mouth to gag her. Mia then tied her own pantyhose around Elle’s mouth. Mia had also hogtied Elle’s wrists and ankles up behind her with a jump rope. Elle squealed and wiggled helplessly, until her husband Kirk finally came home and found his wife beaten and hogties in the middle of his living room floor. Kirk untied Elle, but Elle knew he would never let her forget her humiliating defeat.
As nights passed, Kirk talked more and more about how Mia had humbled Elle. He laughed in his wife’s face over her defeat, bringing her to tears.
“So, the great and mighty Elle finally met her match, eh? You may have squeaked past Becca, but it seems you’re not the best in this area, are you?”
Elle’s tears turned to anger. She knew Mia could return and steal Kirk away, if she wanted to. She wasn’t sure if Kirk had ever been with Mia, but she was sure he wanted her.
The “bad girl” in Elle refused to accept defeat. She decided to have the last laugh. There were other, wealthier, more attractive men in the area. She would seduce one, a man who could give her far more than Kirk ever could. Then she would walk out on Kirk in the most public way possible, humiliating him before the town! Elle would have her revenge.
A good girl turned bad went back on the prowl, hunting better game. She swore that this time, she would let nothing stop her. If the man she set her sites on was already involved with another woman, Elle promised herself she could take that woman down. She would hold nothing back. She would fight 100x dirtier than ever before. She almost pitied any woman who got in her way!
A good girl turned bad for good. Somewhere in the night, a sweet, angelic “good girl” dreamed of her handsome, wealthy lover, blissfully ignorant of the she-devil stalking her man, the delicious demon she would soon have to fight, to keep her man. A little angel purer than Elle had ever been would soon learn just how evil a true “bad girl” can be!
