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Never Mess With the Girls at the Academy

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Offline bikemanrick

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Never Mess With the Girls at the Academy
« on: January 12, 2024, 04:50:22 AM »
Having worked as a substitute teacher for years -- often at Catholic girls' schools -- I got to know a little about their quirks and beefs. I also heard about certain fights that were taking place after school, whether they were against rival schools or some older chicks. As I mentioned in a previous post, Catholic school girls are tough and can really kick ass. That got me thinking about some stories where certain women, whether it's biker chicks, cowgirls, teachers or ordinary women -- are forced to fight these ferocious girls either at the school or somewhere off campus. The fights would most assuredly be brutal and bloody. I don't know what to call these stories. Some probable names are: Academy of Blood, Three O'clock High at the Academy, or even Good Old Fashioned Catholic School Beatings, a name I actually used for a story some time ago. Whatever the case, multiple girls and women would meet in these confrontations and go at it -- and everyone would be at least 18.

In this story premise, Madison King, a tall, athletic girl is introduced, which thrusts her into the first fight in the series. Madison is the most popular girl in the school and cocky as hell. Nothing would satisfy her more than taking some biker chick's head off. Let's head to the school right now and watch as two cocky biker chicks confront that fattest girl in the school, Alice Bellamy.

 :P
Two biker chicks from a nearby bar approach a huge fat girl (age 18) at her school. She was supposedly the last person to see their friend Brenda, who had suddenly just disappeared. This occurred after four biker chicks jumped Alice at the old park. Brenda had pulled a gun on her, then instructed Heather to kick the shit out of her with her boots. Alice had suffered some injuries from the beating and vowed to get back at the biker chicks.

Though the women thought Alice had attacked Brenda on her own and taken her somewhere, Brenda might've just left town, especially if she did something the bikers didn't like. But the women were still worried about their friend.

So the women, showing the cockiness and hubris of the typical biker woman, entered the school and approached the girl, who was stunned to see them.

Alice finished speaking to her mother on her cell, then hung up. It wasn’t two minutes later, as Alice searched for the black notebook she used for keeping track of girl-gang recruits, that two blondes approached her from the far hallway.  Their boot heels clopped against the polished floor as they sashayed toward her.  Alice checked her watch.  It was almost three-thirty.   No one else was anywhere in sight.

Alice recognized both of the women as the duo pulled within fifteen feet.  Heather (if she remembered correctly), the biker chick that had beaten her with the club and her heels, and Paula, the one that pissed her jeans in the girl’s rest room at the football game after she choked her out.  Alice chuckled as the blondes stopped about six feet away.  Paula looked terrified.  Her bottom lip quivered as she scanned the hallway.

Both women wore very tight blue jeans and short, black leather coats.  Their skinny little figures filled the jeans out to perfection.  Heather had on black frilly boots—with a Harley scarf tied to one of them.  The other had long blonde hair and heavily-glossed lips.  She was so gorgeous she looked as if she’d just stepped out of Glamour magazine.
Alice glared at one, then the other.  She then scowled at Heather.  “You’ve got some nerve coming here, bitch.”
“Yeah, well I’m just here to talk to you about Brenda.”
“Shhhhh.”  Alice hushed her.  “Don’t go talking about that shit around here.  Are you crazy or something?”
“Where can we talk?”
“I’m headed for the locker room.”  She grabbed a pen and notebook out of her locker and slammed it shut.  “Here, act like you’re interviewing me or something.”
“What for?” said Heather, as she grabbed the blue Bic and Mead notebook.  Alice had just located the black one that she used to keep track of the recruits.
“Because you look out of place here, that’s why.  Besides, I don’t need anybody questioning me about that woman’s disappearance.  I had nothing to do with it, and I'm sure she'll turn up somewhere.” 
Newspaper reporters used to interview Alice all of the time in past years, when she played volleyball and softball.  It was not unusual for her to still receive an occasional interview, though she no longer played sports because she was now the size of a VW van.  Thus, the women could pass for writers if some clueless teacher saw them and inquired who they were. 
Alice walked down the hall as the two biker women followed.  The trio turned left and descended a couple flights of stairs.  Two minutes later, they made their way to the girl’s locker room on the first floor.  Alice opened the door for the women and they traipsed in.
Several girls were getting ready for volleyball practice.  The basketball players were already on the floor.  Some stared at the women.  A few snickered.
“Did you join up with the Hells Angels, Alice?” one girl said.
“I don’t think you could fit in those jeans,” said another.  The girls laughed.  The women didn’t say anything.  They were outnumbered and overmatched in size by all of the girls.  The women had a lot of chutzpah just walking in the locker room.  Heather had acted cocky in the earlier confrontation.  She still didn’t seem afraid, but she kept quiet.
“Shut up!” said Alice.  The three teasers quickly laced their Nikes and ambled off to practice— their shoes squeaking on the floor on the way out.
Alice watched the girls leave, then looked at Heather and her friend, Paula.  She towered above the two 5’6” blondes who probably weighed less than one-twenty.  She pointed at Heather.
“How dare you come here to my school and accuse me of hurting your friend Brenda. She used to babysit me as a kid.”  Heather's throat churned.  She backed up a step.  Alice had her standing within a step or two of a locker.  A quick shove would easily take her out.  “I had nothing to do with it.”
“I haven’t accused you of anything.  I came to ask you a question.”
“Which is?”
“Did you have anything to do with Brenda’s disappearance?  She was on her way over to see you the last I heard.”
“No, I didn’t see her that day she went missing.”
“Are you sure?”  Alice glanced around.  The locker room was empty. 
“Listen, bitch.  I said I don’t know nothing about it.  Now, I’m gonna ask you to leave once.  After that, I’m  gonna knock you out either in here or on the softball field.  Your choice.  I’ll even kick both of your asses at the same time -- and I don’t think I’d break a sweat doing it.” 
Alice glared at the other woman, Paula.  She hadn’t spoken.  Her legs trembled and her eyes widened as soon as Alice threatened them.
“I’m not afraid of you,” said Heather.  “I don’t care how big you are.”
“Well, you should be.”
“No.  As Brenda told you at the park, I’m a black belt in Taekwondo.  I even teach it.  I could take you.”  Alice laughed.
“You think you can take me on?”
“That’s right.  I’ve practiced every day for five years.  You may outweigh me by a ton, but I know I can kick your ass in a fight.”
Alice laughed.  “I’d slaughter you.”
“You name the time and the place, and I’ll be there,” said Heather.  “Because I know you had something to do with Brenda’s disappearance.  She was one of my best friends.  Now she’s gone.  I just lost my parents last year.  I’ve got nobody left and nothing to lose.  So yeah, I’m going to take it out on you, fatso.”  Alice smirked, placed her hands on her hips and straightened her posture.  She looked down at the woman.
“How about we go right now,” said Alice. 
“No, let’s pick another time and place.  There are too many people around here.”
“Not on the softball field.  It sits down a hill.  It’s also the middle of fall.” 
Just then, a heavy girl entered the locker room.
“Hi, Jimmy Sue.  What do you need?”
“I want your advice on something.” 
"Like what?"
Jimmy Sue, who was 5'9" and 250 pounds, eyed the biker chicks.
"I'd prefer talking in private, not around these sluts."
"Who you calling a slut, bitch?" shouted Heather. She pointed at the girl, but Jimmy Sue pushed her hand away.
"You got a deathwish, bitch?"
"Fuck you, fat girl."
"Why don't you just get out of here. You don't belong at a Catholic girls' high school."
"I'll go wherever I want," said Heather.
"Whatever," said Jimmy Sue, rolling her eyes.
Alice had become good friends with Jimmy Sue the past year or so.  The fat dark-haired girl with the rondure face and large belly was eighteen today.  And the two were going out to celebrate at Golden Corral. Yeah, their bellies would soon be fully gorged and they'll be farting like a couple of English bulldogs.
“Okay, it’s your lucky day, bitch,” said Alice, glaring at Heather.  “We’ll dance later.  You know how to reach me.”  She showed the biker chicks the back door.
“I hate those biker chicks,” said Alice.
“Me too,” said Jimmy Sue.   
"In fact, I'm going to call Madison right now and have her give that Heather chick a warning. Black belt in karate. Who does that chick that she's dealing with here?"
"Madison will take care of her," said Jimmy Sue, "and keep her from coming back here."
"Good."

Madison answered her cell near the front of the school.
"Hello."
"Yeah, it's Alice. I need you to do something for me."
"Sure."
Alice told Madison about Heather, then the two ended their conversation. The women showed up near the front parking lot four minutes later.
Madison walked over to them. "Which one of you is Heather?'
"That would be me. Who's asking?"
Madison smirked as the skinny woman approached her. "You looking for a fight or something, high school girl?"
The 18-year-old Madison, glared at the woman. "Make the first move, bitch, and you're toast."
Heather shoved the girl and said, "Just get out of my way." Madison shoved her back. This angered Heather, so she threw a side kick and struck Madison in the stomach.
Madison's muscular abs absorbed the brunt of the blow, but she still bent forward a bit. This gave Heather an opening for a right haymaker.
Unfortunately for Heather, Madison had lightening-quick reflexes. She parried the woman's blow, then punched her in the mouth and nose (two quick blows) -- right by the sidewalk curb in front of the school. Blood poured from Heather's mouth and nostrils and dripped to the sidewalk.
Heather stood their stunned, legs staggering and eyes glassy. Madison just smirked as she grabbed the shoulder of the woman's jacket and dragged her across the driveway where the buses picked the kids up.
"I suggest you leave while you're still standing, biker cxnt."
Heather dabbed her bloody lip as she eyed the girl. Blood continued sluicing from her nose.
"Go get your pretty face cleaned up, and consider this a warning here from those of us at the Academy. Show up at my school again and you'll be leaving in an ambulance."
As Heather started to walk away, while Paula grabbed her jacket to assist her to her car, Madison kicked her in the ass.
"Now, get the fuck out of here, biker chick! Both of you."

"Hold your head back," said Paula, as the two got inside Heather's Audi. "Okay. You got something to wipe the blood of your face?"
"Glove compartment. Pull out a few napkins."
Paula did as Heather told her, then Heather wiped her nose and mouth.
"Those Academy girls are tough," said Paula. "I'm afraid of them."
"Well, I'm not -- and trust me -- I'll be back here to finish this fight with that high school bitch.  She kicked my ass, Paula. It's embarrassing getting beat up by a high school girl. I've got to redeem myself."
"I know. Alice is the one who dragged my ass around the rest room in August at the football game. She frightened me so much, I pissed my jeans."
"That's fucked up," said Heather. The two chuckled.
"Fuck!" Heather shouted, as she fired up the engine.

The fight between Heather and Madison is obviously far from over, but Madison has other older chicks in her sights for beatings. Whoever ends up in the first story better bring it because the girls at the Academy are out for blood. And don't forget the beast Alice, who can knock the average-size woman across a shopping center parking lot -- or make a pancake out of her with her foot.

Until next time.

BMR







« Last Edit: January 12, 2024, 09:23:09 AM by bikemanrick »