At the same time, I looked at her slight frame and thought of her totally non-violent nature. She was going to fight me? I was too big for her, I was too aggressive….but mostly, I was too tough. I smiled broadly and started moving in her direction.
As if on cue, we both burst toward each other and the fight was on. We were pushing and tugging in an effort to force the other backward. I had a good grip on her shoulders and my greater size was allowing me to move her slowly back toward the refrigerator. When I had her backed up against it, I started pressing my body against hers, applying as much pressure as I could. I could see Mom’s face; she was scared, yet also excited, as if she had known this day was coming.
But I was winning.
I turned partially around and began mashing my ass into her pelvis. With no room to back up, she was feeling the full thrust of my pile-driving young body and it was hurting her. I was straining with effort, but I was giggling, too. When I tired of this maneuver, I turned back around, opened the refrigerator door, and shoved Mom face-first into it. Then, I slammed the door on her head! She was stuck like a rat in a trap as I pushed and pushed, keeping her head trapped. She screamed and cried in pain and I could see her legs kicking furiously in an effort to get free.
Then, her legs stopped moving and I thought she might have fallen unconscious. But, no…..that hadn’t happened because I saw her reach up with her free hand and grab the freezer door, which was located above the door that I had her trapped in. I had no idea why she was doing that. Suddenly, she grabbed the handle and viciously swung it open and smashed it into my face, forcing me to let go of the lower door. I staggered backward and saw Mom emerge from the refrigerator, wearing a facial expression that I had never seen on her in my life. It was fury….plain, unadulterated fury….and it was directed at me.
Mom came at me with her hands raised. Plainly, she intended for me to look at those hands, and when I did, she kicked me in the groin with her socked foot. I bent over forward and Mom started pounding me on the back with her furious fists. I fell to the floor and Mom jumped on top, straddling me and moving her hands to my throat. Her eyes were blazing with fury as she choked me and I was now scared out of my mind. I would have been choked out right then, if my groping hands hadn’t grasped one of my clogs, which had come off during the fight. I grabbed hold of the heavy shoe and smashed Mom in the face with it….once, twice, three times. Her eyes glazed over with pain and she stopped strangling me, giving me the chance to push her off . Neither of us were in shape to attack in that second, so we moved to opposite ends of the kitchen and got slowly to our feet.
Looking at Mom, I thought she was almost finished. She was still holding her forehead where I had bashed her with the shoe. I felt okay, but the choking had weakened me a bit. After a moment, we both slowly approached each other like two gunslingers ready for a shoot-out. We stood still for a second, then simultaneously began punching each other. I never figured that I would ever have to resort to punching my Mom, and I damn sure never expected her to do such a thing to me. Yet, there we were, furiously throwing powerful shots at each other. Most missed their target, some just glanced off the others’ body, and some connected solidly. Knowing that I was younger, bigger and stronger than Mom, I was thinking that this was going to end in my favor. I tagged her hard with a right hand to the chin and saw her take a step backward. I almost laughed out loud, thinking that I would move in and finish her off, when she suddenly came forward with a vicious left hook that exploded above my right eye. I don’t remember falling, but I suddenly found myself flat on my back on the kitchen floor. I was seeing stars but snapped out of it quickly when I felt Mom leap onto my prone body and start digging her nails into my boobs. Instinctively, I did the same to hers. With our eyes boring into each other, we squeezed for all we were worth. The pain I felt was unbelievable, and knew that she was feeling the same. The range of sounds we made was horrible; we were yelling, crying, squealing and moaning. Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, Mom suddenly let go of my boobs and got off me. The movement was so sudden that I let go of hers, too.
She lay on her back, seemingly finished. I wanted to torture her some more, but when I tried to make my way over to her, I found that I was hurting, too. We sat and stared at each other, both breathing hard and close to the limits of our endurance. Slowly then, we rose to our feet and prepared ourselves for one final thrust. Someone was going to win this fight and someone was going to lose…..and it was going to happen soon.
We slowly approached and wrapped our arms around each other in a double bear hug. Mom, being shorter, tightened her arms around my waist while I got a grip around her chest. We squeezed with all the strength left in our bodies. It was a slow, suffocating embrace designed to determine whose stamina would give out first.
I heard Mom grunt with pain as I tightened my grip for all I was worth. But she was strong and determined herself and, to my shock, I felt her lifting me slowly off my feet. As I was taller, she must have been bending slightly backward to achieve this, but I couldn’t say for sure because my eyes were clamped tightly shut against the extreme pain in my stomach and back. Now that my feet were dangling off the floor, I couldn’t get any power into my bear hug, and my arms fell limply to my sides. Mom, sensing that she had me beaten, started shouting;
“There, you little fucking bitch! I win and you lose. There! There! There!”
With each “There” she swung my airborne body from side to side, nearly choking the life out of me. My body hung helplessly in the air. I was at her total mercy. Barely conscious, I was aware that she had put me on the floor in a sitting position and was moving behind me. Sitting on the ground herself, Mom wrapped her legs around my neck from behind and lowered me to the ground while squeezing as hard as she could. I had no strength to resist; I couldn’t even try to claw her legs with my hands. The torture seemed to go on and on. Her supple thighs were grinding against my neck, pouring out all of Mom’s frustration at me over the past few years. My last thought before her headscissors rendered me unconscious was that……”she’s going to squeeze until I’m dead……..she’s going to kill me……..she’s going………………..”
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I have no idea how long I was unconscious. As my senses slowly returned, I realized that I was in my room. Somehow, she had carried me up the stairs. I was sitting on a chair in front of my desk……and my legs and upper body were tied to the chair with a rope!
In front of me were my schoolbooks and computer. I couldn’t understand the meaning of this. Then, with dawning comprehension, I remembered Mom’s last words to me before the fight started:
“You’re not leaving this house until you do your homework.”
To my dismay, I realized that I wasn’t going anywhere until I did my homework.
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After that day, I didn’t get to do much else that I wanted, either.
THE END
