Repost from a while back. This biker chick sustained a brutal beating from some crazy-ass fat girl.
“Take her behind the high school down by the tracks,” said Rosie, a ruthless, fat 18 year-old high school girl who was 6'1" and 265 pounds. She was Italian and her uncle and family were rumored to have been in the mafia. "I want this to be a lesson to all biker chicks that sell drugs at this school. It's too bad but this woman's gotta pay."
"Okay," said a short, stocky girl. She grabbed the pretty blonde biker chick by the arm. The woman was about 28, 5'5" and 110 pounds, clad in tight jeans and a gray halter top. "Let's go."
"Where are you taking me?" said the blonde.
"Behind the woodshed, bitch. Now, let's go."
"Get off me!" The biker woman tried to jerk the girl's arm away, but got overpowered.
"I'm not fooling around here, and neither is Rosie. I'll take you out right here. It would probably be a blessing because Rosie's going to beat you senseless."
It was twilight. The girl led the woman down the steep hill and through a thicket of trees, until they reached level ground. Twenty-five yards away lay the old railroad tracks, which were elevated, rusty and cracked in some places. Rosie liked to beat her female victims down by the tracks as it intimidated and scared the shit out of them.
"We'll wait here." The woman looked around. She tried to find a place to get away, but knew she wouldn't get far in cowboy boots. But she should be able to outrun a couple fat girls.
An old pickup appeared five minutes later. It leaned badly on the driver's side. The engine shut off and Rosie stepped out, immediately relieving pressure on the truck's shocks. She waddled toward the biker chick and girl. No one else around. The tracks lay near an old abandoned warehouse. A small river purled fifty yards away.
The girl grabbed the woman’s arm and walked the biker chick toward the railroad tracks. "I got her from here," said Rosie. "Get out of here and make sure nobody followed you."
"What are you going to do to me?" the blonde said. Her legs quivered.
"Just take a walk with me," said Rosie. She grabbed the woman's thin right arm and walked her closer to the tracks. Rosie knew the biker chick was pathetic and skinny. There was nothing to her, but she still had to beat her. That's just the way it was.
"But I don't understand," the blonde whined. "I—"
"I've been patient with you strippers and biker whores for a long time. You've been selling dope around my school for years. It's gonna stop today." The woman looked up at her. Her throat churned.
"I--"
"Just shut up. You've said your piece. Now it's time for me to say mine."
"I'll stop coming here. I'll tell the bikers . . ."
"Shut up!" Rosie grabbed the woman's arm more tightly and shoved her onto the railroad tracks. "The trains don’t come around here anymore, so don't worry your pretty little head about getting run over. But getting hit by a train may be mild compared to what I'm going to do to you." Rosie smirked, an evil glare which lit up her balloon-sized face.
"Please. I give . . . I give. You win. I'll stop coming here. Help!" Rosie approached the biker chick, her fat hips undulating like oversized sacks of mail. The blonde put her arms up in defense. "My name is Paula. I'm an exotic dancer and I have money in my jeans. I'll pay you. Please. Oh, no. Oh, God nooooo." Rosie shot her fingers out and stabbed the woman's windpipe, shocking and knocking the breath out of her. She grabbed her throat and gagged.
"Why did you hit me?" she said, gagging and barely whispering as she held her throat.
"I'm gonna pat you down for weapons," said Rosie. "Turn your skinny ass around." The blonde turned and Rosie ran her large hands up the woman's legs, crotch and ass.
Suddenly the blonde turned around and slapped Rosie in the face. She wasn't prepared for the blow, but blocked the woman's thin arm. "Big mistake, cxnt."
Rosie grabbed the woman's thin shoulders, pulled her forward and kneed her in the stomach.
"Uhhhhhhhhhh!" The woman dropped to her knees.
"You pathetic, little bitch. I'm gonna rip you apart for that."
The blonde was on her knees holding her stomach. She was in agony. Rosie grabbed a tuft of her blonde mane. Without hesitation, she pulled the blonde's head back, moved closer, jerked her head forward and kneed the woman in the face. Blood spurted from the biker chick's nose, down her mouth and splashed the top part of her shirt. The blonde fell to her side—eyes glassy and still. Blood poured to the gravel.
"Get up," Rosie shouted. The woman didn't move. "I said get your skinny ass up, c*nt!" She kicked the woman in the back, then in the ass. She then grabbed her hair and pulled her to her feet. The blonde screamed. Without hesitation, Rosie socked the blonde in the gut. Before she fell, Rosie punched her in the side of the head. The blow spun her around and knocked her onto her stomach.
"Women like you make me sick, making money off of kids." Rosie stomped down on the woman's ass. The woman weakly reached out toward the rails.
"Uhhhhhh," the woman cried, as Rosie’s foot connected with her back. Rosie then moved to the right side of the blonde and kicked her in the side. She kicked her again . . . and then a third time. She then pulled the biker chick to her feet and told her to place her hands on top of her head. The blonde obeyed, eyes widened and face bloodied.
The biker chick then tried to turn and run, but her right boot got caught on the tracks. Rosie grabbed the back of woman's jeans and pulled her closer. She then reached into her sweat pants pocket and pulled out a pair of brass knuckles.
"This should convince you that I am not kidding around about you and the other stripper sluts staying away from here." A look of horror ran across the biker chick's face. She looked down. Rosie reached under the blonde's chin and pulled Paula's thin oval face up. She hauled back and slugged the blonde in the jaw. The blow knocked her back. The blonde was in a daze and stumbling around. Rosie grabbed her before she fell and got in two more sold blows with the brass knuckles; but she wasn't finished. The blonde's entire face was bloody now and her nose was clearly broken. A three-inched gash lay directly below her left eye.
Rosie took off her brass knuckles and beat the woman for another few minutes. Paula was cringing and writhing on the ground, obviously having sustained some broken bones. At one point, Rosie deliberately stepped on Paula's right hand and cracked it. Paula was on the fringe of fainting. Blood poured from her eyebrows, nose, lips and right ear. Rosie stomped down on Paula's head and ground her face into the track.
"This is just a warning, cxnt. Next time, I’ll be less merciful. I'll simply kill you. Rosie grabbed Paula by the arms and dragged her down by the river bank. She grabbed the back of the biker chick's hair and slammed her face first into a rusty pole. She cackled as Paula dropped like a dead fish. As she lay there with her head spinning, she really thought the girl was going to throw her ass in the river and drown her. She was mean enough. And she certainly could do anything she wanted to her because she was too strong and powerful. But Rosie mercifully let her go.
Rosie tottered toward her truck, her ass cheeks bulging from her sweats like two overloaded laundry bags. "It's gonna be a long walk back for you bitch." Rosie cackled. Her laugh pierced the still night air.
Paula passed out a short time later. A laid-off dock worker found her near the edge of the water. He thought she was dead but called the life squad when she stirred.
"Who did this to you, honey?"
"Some fat girl." Paula was too embarrassed to say that she got beat up by a high school girl.
