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Brutal White Castle Beating

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Offline bikemanrick

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Brutal White Castle Beating
« on: July 04, 2018, 10:19:03 AM »
In the Midwest we have a restaurant called White Castle that's been around since the early 1920s.  It’s a place where you can chill and get three or six mini burgers for a reasonable price.  On this particular Friday night, a bad-ass, eighteen-year-old fat high school girl by the name of Clare (and she was quite homely, too) and two friends were in line ordering their meals.  The other girls were a bit hefty, too, and looked like they could eat a case of the burgers between them.  They stood behind Clare licking their chops in eager anticipation of devouring a tasty meal of the onion-flavored burgers, one of the ingredients that makes these things tasty for high schoolers as well as druggies with the munchies.
     Behind the ample trio of high school girls were two blondes who were about 27 or 28.  They were dressed like biker chicks in tights jeans, boots and T-shirts.  Neither of them weighed an ounce over 115 pounds, even in their clothes.  As the cashier continued taking the Clare’s order, one of the women giggled and whispered to her friend: "I bet that order's gonna cost a fortune."  She had shoulder-length blonde hair and looked about 5'4" tall. When Clare completed her order, she turned around and glared at the blonde. 
     “What are you looking at, fat ass!” the woman said.  The other girls turned around and stared at the blonde, as the biker chick’s friend grabbed her arm and told her to be cool.
     "I'm talking to all of you cows," the woman said.  Clare was now gritting her teeth, glaring at her with her steely grey eyes.  She knew the woman was probably drunk or strung out on coke . . . or both, but she wasn't going to take that kind of abuse.  She had been ridiculed enough throughout her school years and was frankly sick and tired of it.
     "Here's your orders, girls," the cashier said.  "Enjoy."
     "I'm sure they will," the blonde said, just as Clare grabbed her tray of food, eyeing the blonde with hatred.  The blonde and her friend stepped up to order.  Clare waddled over to a nearby table with her friends.  She sat down, gobbled down a couple mini burgers and watched the women get their food.  She then stood up and walked over to the one who’d made fun of her in line.  The woman had just sat down at a table near the far wall.
     "I'll let you finish your meal, c*nt," said Clare, "but if you're still here when I'm finished, I'm gonna take you outside and beat the shit out of you."
     The woman looked up all squinty eyed and just stared at Clare.
     "What do you know, Jane, it's that fat high school girl.  How's it going lard ass?"
     "Shut up, Heather," her friend said, as she stood up to leave.  But they had trays instead of sacks, she suddenly realized.  Clare placed her meaty paw on the slim brunette’s shoulder and shoved her to a seated position.
     "You’re not going anywhere.  And as for you blondie, finish your meal and I'll be back in a few minutes."
     "Please, she didn't mean anything by it.  She's just stoned and drunk."
     "That's her problem.  You can go when you're finished.  This one’s ass belongs to me."
     Jane, the friend, didn't touch her food.  And ten minutes later, the trio came back over to their table.  The strung-out blonde was leaning back against the wall with her boots across the bench seat.  She looked up and waved at the girls.
     "Hey, fatties, did you enjoy your meals?  I sure did.  I . . ."
     Before she could finish her next sentence, Clare grabbed the bottom cuffs of her blue jeans and pulled her off the bench.  The woman landed on her ass; her head hit the edge of the seat on the way down.
     "Ouch!"  she cried.  "Hey, fatass."  Clare pulled the woman to her feet seconds later and grabbed her arm.
     "Come on, we're going outside, c*nt!" 
     "Don't hurt her," the friend pleaded, but to no avail.  Then one of the other girls spoke up.
     "If I were you, I would just shut your little mouth and go to your car, unless you want to deal with me.  Clare will make sure you get little Heather back, though she might not be in one piece."  Jane followed the girls out.  Clare now had Heather by the arm.  The woman was stumbling a bit as Clare opened the door and shoved her through it.  Once outside, Clare slapped the back of her head really hard.
     "Hey, watch it, fatso," said Heather.  Clare was livid.  Her face suffused red as she clenched her free hand into a fist.  When they got to the sidewalk, she released her grip on the biker chick's arm.  The woman teetered a bit and then turned to face Clare.
     "You got some nerve, you little slut," said Clare.  "I'm gonna beat your ass with a vengeance."
     The woman just looked at Clare.  She then attempted an off-balanced slap, but Clare blocked her arm.  The fat teen then raised her other arm and popped the woman in the mouth with the back of her fat hand.  The blow knocked Heather off her feet.  She landed on her ass near a trash can.
     "Up you go, bitch," said Clare, as she pulled the woman up by the neck of her shirt.  The shirt pulled out of her jeans in back.  Clare ripped it off of her, exposing a small, pert pair of tits.  The woman covered her breasts as Clare pulled her to her feet.  Blood trickled down Heather's lips.  Clare instantly wrapped her hefty left arm around Heather's neck and bent her over at the waist.  The woman struggled to get away but was trapped by the powerful high school girl. 
     "This is called the Rosy Clare special," she said, as she clenched her right fist.  It comes from me but will leave your face rosy red."  The other girls giggled in anxious anticipation.  Clare wasn't smiling.  She promptly cocked her fist back and delivered the first haymaker to Heather's nose.  It popped like a cherry upon impact, and as the rosy red fluid flowed down her mouth and chin and dripped to the sidewalk, the fat teen hit her again . . . and again . . . and again.  Clare’s fist, as it connected with Heather's face, made a mushy sound by the time the fourth blow was delivered.
     Clare turned the woman around one hundred eighty degrees to face the parking lot.  The ass of the woman's jeans hung out as she suffered the brutal embrace from the teen.  She was now crying. Clare continued punching the woman while holding her in the headlock.  When Clare finally released the hapless woman, she just plopped onto the grass near the sidewalk like a rag doll, face covered in blood.
     "I hope you learned your lesson here, bitch.  You don't go calling girls like me fat, you hear me?"  The blonde was on her side, one arm stretched behind her and the other cradled near her chest.  "Well do you?"  Clare put her foot on the woman's ass and shoved her.
     "I think she's out of it, Clare," one of the girls said.
     "Good thing for her because I'd beat her some more if she were awake."
     The hefty trio of high schoolers walked away with their shoulders back and proud of who they were, despite their size.  Meanwhile, the woman just lay there like she’d just been run over by a Mack truck, which wasn't too far from the truth.  Her friend appeared at her side several minutes later, glancing behind her to make sure the other girls were gone.  She got assistance from one of the workers, a guy who came out to empty the trash, and the two escorted Heather to Jane's car.  Just as Jane opened the door, Heather puked all her food up on the pavement.  And when she turned around, It was all over her chest and jeans.
     Biker chicks continue to get hammered in my home town. Some of the fights are even more brutal than this one.

« Last Edit: July 04, 2018, 10:31:02 AM by bikemanrick »

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Offline HumiliationOne

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Re: Brutal White Castle Beating
« Reply #1 on: July 04, 2018, 07:19:18 PM »
Love the idea of fake tough girl biker ladies getting beat to a pulp. Im working on a story right now dealing with that.