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Tae Bo Chick and the Tough Cheerleader

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Offline bikemanrick

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Tae Bo Chick and the Tough Cheerleader
« on: January 10, 2019, 07:19:31 AM »
      Cindy Lochlear slammed the door to her house, jumped into her red Corvette in the driveway and sped off. She was pissed-off at her boyfriend for demanding that she make a run to Midvale High to deliver some drugs before she worked out. The trip would take thirty minutes both ways and she’d be late getting to Crunch Fitness.
     Cindy had just thrown on a pair of dark indigo Levi’s and cowboy boots for the trip. She had her gym bag on the front passenger’s seat. “This is the last drop I’m ever making for that fool,” she said, as she sped down Oak Street and made a left on Laurel. She was at the high school ten minutes later.
     It was four o’clock as Cindy drove to the far fence near the football field. She was meeting some girl near the back lockerroom. She’d been to a few other high schools and the deals usually took five minutes tops. She grabbed the bags of pot and heroin, locked her door and started walking toward the back of the school. She stuffed both bags into the right back pocket of her jeans.
     The place was practically deserted as it was late May and school was out for the summer. Some of the athletes must’ve had access, she surmised, as she turned right at the back of the building and walked along a narrow sidewalk to the girl’s lockerroom.
     She found the door a couple minutes later and knocked on it. No one answered.
     “Come on,” she said, as she knocked again. This time, a blonde cheerleader opened the door and let her in. She wore a red and white uniform with purple stripes and looked a bit chunky in it.
     “Who’s buying?” said Cindy.
     “I am,” said the blonde. The girl was eighteen. She was about Cindy's height but a bit more muscular.  Cindy guessed she outweighed her by ten or fifteen pounds. For several seconds, she felt humiliated at how well-built the girl was for her age. Cindy was twenty-nine and thinner. And though she’d been working out for five years, she suspected the girl was stronger than her.
     “Is there a problem?”
     “No,” said Cindy.
     “Then get let’s have the drugs. My dad’s finishing up the floor in the gym.”
     “Your dad?.”
     “Yeah, he’s the school janitor.”
     “Oh,” said Cindy. “I’m sure you’re very proud.”
     “What the f*ck is that supposed to mean?”
     “I’m sorry,” said Cindy, as she brushed a blonde bang aside. “I’m just talking out of my ass. I’ll get the drugs.”
     Cindy reached into the back pocket of her jeans. She had just pulled the bags out when a short red-haired girl walked forward and placed the nozzle of a gun against her cheek.
     “Hand me the drugs slowly, then put your hands on your head,” said the redhead.
     “What’s going on?” said Cindy. Her heart started racing.
     “Let’s just say we’re teaching you a lesson for selling drugs to kids,” said the blonde girl.
     Cindy raised both hands and backed up. “Look, I’m just doing what my old man told me to do.”
     “Shut the f*ck up, biker cxnt,” said the cheerleader, “and hand me the drugs.” Cindy did as she was told. “Now, here’s how this is going to go down. We’re going to take a little walk outside to the far side of the softball field and have a little chat. Capish?”
     “We can chat here,” said Cindy her voice quivering a bit. Her throat then churned and she knew the girl saw it. The teen smirked.
     “I don’t think so,” said the cheerleader. “Get the door, Trudy.”
     Cindy turned to watch the girl open the door. That’s when the blonde girl grabbed her arm and nudged her forward. “Let’s go.”
     The two girls and woman walked down a hill near the lockerroom, then around the back of the softball field. The redhead had the gun at Cindy’s back the entire time. They reached a gate on the far side of a grass strip between the football and softball fields.
     “Open it!” shouted the cheerleader.
     “Are you sure about this, Sandy?”
     “Oh, yeah. I’ve never been surer.”
     The girl opened the gate as the Sandy stood behind Cindy. The biker chick looked back at the girl, then at the strip of land to her right.
     “Don’t even think about running because I'm more athletic than you and would catch your little ass and take you down in a flash.”
     "I'm athletic, too," said Cindy.  The girl burst out laughing.
     "I am athletic."
     "We'll just see about that, biker slut. I'm a cheerleader and we train very hard. You're just some skinny blonde in tight jeans who probably can't punch her way out of a paper bag."  The redhead laughed.
     “I'm tougher than you think, high school girl, but why all the violence?” said Cindy, as she continued surveying a way out. But she knew the girl was probably quicker and meant what she said. And she couldn’t run as fast in her boots.
     “Go on,” said the girl.
     The blonde Cindy walked through the gate. She then turned around to face the cheerleader. “What is it you want?”
     The redhead walked next to Sandy and pointed the gun at Cindy.
     “We’re going to take a little walk, that’s all.”
     “And then what?” said Cindy. She was now shaking, and her heart continued pounding.
     “You’ll see.”
     The girl ordered Cindy to walk through a copse of trees to a clearing. They then crossed a parking lot of an old park toward some woods. They reached a dirt clearing in front of the woods which was covered with broken limbs, rocks and leaves.
     “Walk over by the grass,” said Sandy.
     Cindy did as she was told.
     “Now turn around.”
     Cindy stood facing the cheerleader. She could see the back of the high school in the distance, which was now a couple hundred yards away. The redhead walked up and pointed the gun at her.
     “So, you’re going to shoot me because I brought you drugs.”
     “No,” said Sandy. “I’m just going to teach you a lesson.”
     “And what’s that?”
     “To never come back here and sell this shit to teens.”
     “Like I said, I was just . . .”
     “I don’t give a f*ck what you were doing. This stuff’s going to stop right now. The biker’s have been selling stuff around here for years, and I know of five girls who are dead because of those drugs.”
     “That’s not my fault.”
     “Maybe and maybe not,” said Sandy. “But I’m going to send a message to the bikers that may make them pay attention.”
     “By killing me?”
     “No, I’m just going to beat you up.”
     Cindy was fed up. She was nervous as hell but decided to stand her ground. She'd been in two fights with other biker chicks and lost both of them, but this girl was just a high school kid for crying out loud.  She could take her. “Okay, let’s go right here.”
     “That’s the intention,” said Sandy.
     “And you think you can just take me out like that?” said Cindy.
     “I know I can take you down and beat your ass. Look at you. You can’t weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds --and that's including your jeans and boots.” Sandy took a step toward the biker chick. “They usually send the fat girls down to do this stuff because they like to brutalize women like you—and they don’t care how bad they beat you. But none of them was available. That’s probably good for you because those girls would tear you to shreds and spit you out. I’m just going to pound you a little and let you go—if you can still walk out of here when we’re done.”
     “Okay, I’ll fight you if that little bitch stops pointing the gun at me.”
     “Trudy, lower the gun.”
     “Watch who you’re calling a bitch, biker slut.” Cindy ignored the redhead’s comment. She watched her lower the gun, and without hesitation, charged the blonde cheerleader. She tried to tackle the girl but the girl grabbed her head and shoved her aside. Cindy’s boots got tangled and she fell on her side, skinning her elbow.  She got back up, brushed the dirt off her jeans and glared at the girl.
     “Come on, you f*cking little cxnt,” Sandy shouted, as she extended her hands and waved her fingers toward herself, taunting her to make the next move.  “Give me all you got because you’re gonnna need it.”
     Cindy’s throat churned. The girl was stronger than she looked. She charged the girl again, and the two locked hands. She tried to twist the girl’s hands to the left but couldn’t. Sandy stepped forward and shoved her backward. Cindy struggled to stay on her feet as he boots slid backward. She had just regained her balance when the girl charged forward and shoved her on the ground.
     “Having a little trouble staying on your feet, huh bitch?”
     “F*ck you, high school girl,” said Cindy.
     “Woo. Big talk coming from such a wimp.”
     Cindy stood up and assumed a tae bo stance. She’d been practicing the martial arts routine for a couple years. The girl put her hands up and circled Cindy.
     Cindy threw a front kick and the cheerleader backed up. She stepped forward and hit the girl in the side with a roundhouse. Sandy winced but kept her hands up.
     This time, Cindy kicked low with her right foot, then hit the cheerleader in the shoulder with a roundhouse. She had just lowered her leg and cocked her right fist when the girl hit her in the cheek with a right cross.
     Cindy stumbled backward but maintained her footing. She stepped forward and threw another roundhouse at Sandy. The cheerleader stepped to her left to evade Cindy’s leg, then shot her right foot between the biker chick’s legs. The instep of her foot landed squarely against the woman’s crotch.
    “Uhhhhhh!” the blonde cried, as she bent forward and grimaced. A second kick struck her mouth and knocked her on her back.
     “Take that kick, bitch!—a simple cheerleader move.”
     "cxnt buster," said the redhead.  Both girls laughed. "She's probably got one of those shaved pussies like the strippers. She probably is a stripper, aren't you, bitch?"
     Cindy ignored her.  She sat on the ground and dabbed her mouth which was now bleeding pretty badly. The girl charged forward and kicked her in the side.
     “Think that one hurt, bitch? How ‘bout this one?” She kicked the biker chick in the side again. Cindy’s head dropped to her chin—mouth pursed. Sandy waited for several seconds as the woman fell to her side. She placed her foot on the ass of Cindy’s jeans and shoved her on her stomach.
     Cindy was on all fours as the third kick hit her in the gut and knocked her on her back. The cheerleader then reached down and pulled the hapless biker chick up by her arm.
     Cussshhhhh! The backhand blow from the girl caught Cindy on the temple. She staggered around for a couple seconds, then threw an off-balance punch. Sandy blocked the punch, hit Cindy in the gut and knocked her to her knees. And without hesitation, she pounded her in the jaw with a roundhouse punch.
     Cindy dropped to her side and started whimpering.
     “Like I said, I’m just doing this to teach the bikers a lesson. Once I’m finished with you, I’ll let you go.”
     Cindy tried to push herself up but couldn’t. Sandy smirked as she leaned over, grabbed the blonde by her hair and pulled her to her feet. The woman screamed.
     “Please stop,” cried Cindy. “I give. I give.”
     “Not quite,” said Sandy. She wrapped her left arm around Cindy’s narrow back and punched her in the nose. The woman’s head shot back; her snout popped like a cherry as blood flowed down her chin. A second blow smashed the biker chick’s lips, then a third one caught her in the eye.
     Blood was now dripping from every facial orifice of Cindy's, including her right eyelid. Sandy released the woman and popped her in the nose again, knocking her head back yet again. She pummeled Cindy with several more punches, then smashed her mouth again with a right cross.
     Cindy’s eyes rolled upward and she collapsed on the dirt. The cheerleader hit the biker chick so hard with the last blow, one of her boots fell off. The woman just lay there on her back with one arm above her head and the other against her side. Her head was twisted to the right and leaning against her forearm.
     “Is she out?” said the redhead.
     “I think so,” said Sandy. She kicked the blonde in the side, but got no reaction. She then rolled her on her side, reached into Cindy’s back pocket and pulled out five hundred dollars in cash. She found the woman’s cell phone in the other back pocket of her jeans. Seconds later, she smashed it under her gym shoe.
     “That should be enough to prevent you from coming back,” said Sandy, though the woman couldn’t hear her.
     “You just going to leave her here?” said the red-haired girl.
     “Yeah, she’ll probably wake up after dark and stumble out of here somehow.”
     “You really beat the shit out of her.”
     “Yeah, but she was nothing. I’ve fought tougher chicks in middle school.”
     "Hey, screw teaching this bitch a lesson," said the redhead.  "Get some huge girl like Andrea Schmidt to finish her off.  She can dispose of her down by the river. No one would ever know -- and it would really teach the bikers and their bitches a hard-earned lesson."
     "No, I promised her I'd just beat her ass -- and that I did indeed.  Besides, Andrea really would kill that woman -- and break every bone in her skinny little body in the process. She's that nuts.  But everything aside, I really pounded her pretty good."
     "Yeah, you did.  I didn't know you could fight that well.  Didn't you lose a fight to that Roosevelt Cheerleader last year?"
     "Yeah, but she was five inches taller and tough as nails.  That biker chick was nothing."
     The two girls left moments later. Cindy awakened an hour later and could barely move. She finally mustered up enough strength to get up and teeter to her car. She felt humiliated about getting beat up by a high school girl, but the girl was pretty strong. But how was she going to explain this to her old man.
     Cindy left town a few months later. She never returned to Midvale High—and who could blame her?

(The pics aren't fantastic, but they'll do for now. Yeah, I saw the comment in my last entry about getting Photo Shop. In due time I suppose, but that's my business.)
« Last Edit: January 10, 2019, 08:38:32 AM by bikemanrick »