God help me. I can’t stop thinking about you.Those words reverberate around my office as my student and me stare at each other. She finally breaks the stare and looks down. I wonder what’s going through her mind as she sits with her head hanging. My God, she’s gorgeous! She is wearing dark clothes, as usual, and this time her hair is dyed light blue….matching her eyes. I can’t look away from her. She is beautiful. I think about our first encounter, our bodies straining against one another…the way she looked me in the eye when she demanded my surrender (God! I almost gave in….)….the mysterious slip that cost her victory. I close my eyes and feel a tingling deep in my belly threading its way down into my….
“Are you ok?” Her question breaks my reverie.
“I’m fine.” I respond. Embarrassed, I continue, “How are you? I heard about your father and his nightclub….”
“I don’t want to talk about my dad….and it was a worthless tavern not a nightclub.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry….”
“By pry, you mean asking if I had anything to do with it?” She looks at me with a challenge in her eye, then she goes on, “I didn’t but I wish I did. I hated that bastard worse than I hate you.”
That certainly wasn’t the response I was expecting. “Hate me? Why do you hate me? You signed up for my class this semester. I know you’re in my American Lit class in the fall….why do you hate me?
“Because of the way you make me feel….”
“….and how is that?”
“Fuck you.”
“Well, you don’t have to be crude. I want to be your friend….”
“Friend? Bullshit! You’re just another bitch who thinks she’s better than people like me.”
“That’s not true…”
“BULLSHIT!!!”
“…but….”
“You beat me wrestling and you ALWAYS have that smarmy look on your face when you look at me! I hate you! One of these days, I’ll make you pay for the way you look at me…the way you make me feel! Goddamn….I HATE YOU!!!”
She quickly gets to her feet and storms toward the door. I get up and rush to cut her off and I get the door shut before she can get out. “Please, let’s talk about this….”
“No! Let me go!”
“Not until you’ve calmed down.”
“Let….me…go….!”
“NO! Settle down!”
She turns and shoves me and tries to get the door opened, but I had already turned the lock. She fumbles with it for a minute as I rush toward her again. “Please wait.”
“Fuck you! Let me out!”
I grab her arm, but I immediately regret it. She pivots and punches me in my still aching nose. I drop immediately to the floor, clutching at my face. She stands over me and starts crying. Then she fumbles with the lock until it opens and she runs from the room and out of the building.
I lie in a heap and start crying. I certainly messed that up. I didn’t bother to tell her that it was her fault that my nose was hurting in the first place. Looking back on what just happened, she probably wouldn’t understand. After a few minutes I compose myself and dress for my evening workout. I really don’t feel like exercising at this point, but I have to stay in shape. The crazy Australian bitch who punched me in the nose after I choked her unconscious is demanding a rematch…sooner rather than later. So I have to quickly get back in shape before she carries through with her threat to either beat me in my driveway while my kids watch or kick my ass in my office and then drag my naked, beaten body across campus. So I better get back to it so I’ll be prepared for the rematch. Since it’s raining, I head to the gym.
Once there, I can’t focus. This is the very room my student and me had our encounter. I look at the mat, and I can still feel the warmth of her body. I close my eyes and I can feel the warmth of her breath. I can even remember how the door sounded when she entered the room. It reverberates in my memory. I open my eyes and look up from my reverie and straight into her eyes. After a moment, she says, “Didn’t you hear me come in?”
I must have. I guess I need to pay more attention to what’s going on around me. I’m lucky it wasn’t that crazy redheaded Australian coming to beat me up and drag me naked and broken across campus. I really must focus.
“What do want?” I ask, still stinging a little from her earlier punch.
“I came to apologize for my actions earlier. I’ll wait on the campus cops if you want me arrested.”
“I don’t want you arrested. I just want you to leave me alone.”
She looks at me for a moment, and it appears she is about to cry. Finally she says, “Ok, I’ll leave you alone….but I want a rematch.”
Stunned, I look at her and say, “I thought you hated me?”
“I do hate you. But I can’t get you out of my mind. That’s why I hate you so badly. I want to hurt you. I want to break you. I must break you. That’s the only thing that will get you out of my head.”
“What makes you think that will clear your head? Maybe you need a doctor….”
“That’s what the doctors said. I have to confront what torments me.”
“Maybe doctors aren’t all that smart after all….”
“Fuck you!”
“Not today.”
“What?”
“Not today.
“What ‘not today?’ A rematch…..or a ‘fuck.’”
Now I can’t help but laugh. “A rematch, silly!”
Now she giggles a little, “I know. I was just playing….”
We stare at each other for a moment than she asks, “What happened to your nose?”
“I got punched. Then you didn’t exactly help it much.”
She giggles again, but goes quickly serious, “Your husband?”
“No. Not my husband.”
“Then who?”
“Another woman.”
Laughingly, “Oh my God! Little Miss Prissy got into a bar fight?!! That’s too much!!”
“No…I didn’t get into a bar fight. I’m in a fight club.”
Now it’s her turn to be a little shocked. “Fight club? Kickboxing…like you used to do? Or…like the movie?”
“More like the movie, I guess. You actually got me started….”
“Me?!! How?”
“Our little wrestling match. I guess it opened my competitive nature again. It’s actually quite exhilarating!”
“Oh My God!!! I could never picture you doing anything like that!” (Laughing)
“We’ll set something up after my nose heals.”
“I’m looking forward to it. I’m going to win this time.”
“You think so, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sure of it. There’ll be no slip this time.”
“Well then. Maybe we should meet before then and discuss ways to make it a little more interesting….”
“Yeah…maybe we should.”
“Now get out of here so I can finish my workout.”
She gets up to leave but I call after her before she gets to the door, “Do you really hate me?”
She stops and thinks for a minute. “With all my existence.” Then she walks out of the room, leaving me staring at her wake, as the door slams shut.
I finish my workout, shower then go home. For the first night in weeks, I’m not tormented by my reoccurring dream. My nose heals over the next few days and then one afternoon, I get the email I had been dreading. The redheaded Australian bitch can no longer wait for our rematch. I get the details on location, attire and rules. As expected, I’m to wear as little as possible, and there are fewer rules than clothing items. I sigh and return the email saying I’d be there.
The days go by slowly. I intensify my workouts to try and get my body back into fighting shape. It’s tough because I’ve taken a couple pretty severe beatings from my Australian opponent and, let’s face it, I’m not getting any younger. I hit the track in the morning…rain or shine…and the gym in the evening. I throw myself into getting back into peak physical form…not just to prepare for what could be the roughest fight of my life, but also to clear a certain person out of my head. My student has made her feelings pretty clear. Class with her has become my own private hell. I can’t get her attention at all. Her grades are still good…actually better than they’ve ever been. I think she is actually taunting me with her intellect. She is trying to be perfect so I will have no reason to call on her. But I catch her staring every now and then. When our eyes meet, she’ll look away and blush. Oh, she is simply adorable when she blushes!
So I exhaust myself four days a week on the track and in the gym, but I feel myself getting harder. But I’m far from mentally prepared.
Late one Friday afternoon, I am alone in the school gym when I simply had enough. Perhaps I pushed myself a little too far, or I am finally just emotionally exhausted. I drift off while sitting on a weight bench. I dream of our encounter, like I always do. Her body against mine. The warmth of her breath…the taste of her sweat…the smell of her hair…the sound of our struggles all assaults my senses. I slide deeper and deeper away.
Suddenly, I realize I’m not alone.
My heart nearly jumps out of my chest when I start to think that my student is here for our rematch! I have so waited for this moment, and the timing is perfect. We have all night to settle our differences. I slowly open my eyes and I do see my student. But she’s not alone.
I stare at my student for a moment, and then the realization hits me that she’s in pain. I look at the woman standing behind her as if I can’t quite comprehend what I’m seeing.
“Looks like you have a little voyeur.” The woman says in her lilting Australian accent.
“Let her go! Have you lost your mind?” I yell at the redhead holding my student in a chicken wing.
“Only if she promises not to take another swing at me.”
“Fuck you, bitch! I’m going to kick your ass,” my student growls.
“You did such a wonderful job of it in the hallway. I suggest you just keep your mouth shut.”
I watch this little tableau for a moment in confused silence, then I ask the obvious question, “What the hell are you two doing here anyway?”
The redhead continues to hold my student in her painful position for a few more seconds, and then she shoves her forward into me. I catch her before she stumbles over the weight bench. I repeat my question, “Why are you here?” I direct it more toward the Australian, than to the younger girl.
“I told you. If you didn’t give me a rematch soon enough, I was going to come to this campus looking for you,” the redhead replies.
“I agreed to your terms for the rematch. It’s next week.”
“Not soon enough, I’m afraid. I want to hurt you very badly before I leave the country, and this is the perfect place and the perfect time.”
“No. Not here,” I reply. “I’ll be at the agreed upon location next week.”
“Not soon enough. Are you deaf? I have to leave the country. Tonight is the only night.”
“Whatever. I’m not fighting you here,” I say as I turn to my student. “Are you ok? What are you doing here?”
It’s obvious that she’s embarrassed. It’s also obvious she is hurt. It looks like she may have been beaten up a little before being escorted in here. I ask again, my anger starting to rise, “Why are you here?”
“The little pussy licker was watching you. Isn’t obvious?” The redhead says with a sneer.
“Will you shut up? I’m asking her!”
“I caught her watching you through a crack in the door. You like that, don’t you?”
“Shut up!” I turn back to my student, “Do you want me to take you home?”
The younger girl raises her eyes to me and it’s apparent that she’s been crying. Anger surges in my chest and I turn to the redhead, “What did you do to her, bitch?!!”
“She took a swing at me when I inquired what she was doing. I defended myself.”
“Damn you! You hurt her!”
“She asked for it.”
“Get out of here! I’m taking this girl home.”
“You can leave. But she stays. If I can’t hurt you, I’ll hurt someone you obviously care about,” the Australian says with an evil gleam in her eye.
Tired and exasperated, I finally relent. “Ok, tonight. But this is it. It’s over after this. I never want to see your fucking face ever again.”
“Oh goody,” the redhead replies, “I accept your terms. But don’t worry, you may not be able to seen anyone ever again when I’m finished with you.”
I shake my head and sigh, “Whatever, bitch. Give me a few minutes alone with this girl. I want to make sure you didn’t injure her.”
“That little cxnt is fine. She’s not hurt badly. You’ve got five minutes. I’m going to get my boyfriend from outside…he wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
I shake my head in anger as the redhead leaves, and then I turn to my student. “What did she do to you? Why are you here?”
“Fuck you,” she tearfully replies.
“Why do you have so much animosity towards me? I really only want to be your friend….”
“I hate you.”
“…but why?”
“Because I think I’m in love with you.”
A cinder block falling on my head from the sky wouldn’t have been more of a shock! I just stare at her with a stupid look on my face.
“There, I said. Now I’m leaving.”
“It…it…it’s raining out.” I stammer for words to say. “Let me…let me drive you home.”
“You have other things to worry about tonight.” She reminds me just as the Australian and her boyfriend walk into the room.
“Then stay put. Plus, I might need you as a witness if this bitch tries to kill me.”
“She won’t kill you. She’ll just break your ribs…like she did mine.”
“Your ribs are broken?”
“I think so…..”
“She did this to you?”
“Yes…..” She grimaces in pain as she sits on a weight bench. “She said that’s what she’s going to do to you.”
Now I’m beyond angry! How dare that bitch hurt this defenseless child! “I’ll kill her for hurting you. I swear on my father’s grave, she’ll pay dearly….”
I take deep breaths to work my rising temperature down to a low smolder as I take off my running shoes, my jogging shorts, and finally my sports bra. I turn to face the redhead in nothing but a dark blue pair of cotton panties. She looks at me with smug satisfaction and quietly removes her sleeveless white button-up shirt, her denim shorts and her sandals. She is left with nothing on but a lacy, black thong. We silently size each other up as we mentally prepare for what’s about to come. She has shoulder length red hair worn straight. I wear my brown hair in short layers. She is around 5’4” so she is a couple inches taller than me. But I probably outweigh her by around five pounds. I might weigh 115 lbs. We have fought twice. She won the first encounter rather easily after capturing me in an inescapable leg scissors and pulling on my neck. I returned the favor a few weeks later by choking her out with a chokehold my late police officer father taught me. When she came to, she rushed me and punched me in the nose. I guess you could say this one will decide which of us is the better woman. And right now, I really want to break the cxnt’s neck.
Since there is no hostess to keep us under control, I assume there will be no rules. I guess we’ll also have to decide when to start on our own. I rush the redhead while she’s still stretching and punch her as hard as I can in the chest.
She has a stunned look on her face as she falls to the floor, and it only gets more startled as I follow her down. Anger is surging up into my throat again, and I want nothing more than to break her fucking ribs. I hammer punches into her chest and belly with frightening ferocity as she squirms trying to get away.
Finally I guess I let my anger give me tunnel vision. As I’m focusing my aggression on her ribs, my opponent has decided to go for my eyes. One minute I’m punching her…the next I’m stumbling backwards trying to pry her fingers away. I let out a gasping choke and I pull at her wrists, but I soon trip as I stagger backwards, and she lands on top of me. This time she is the one delivering the punches. Instead of my ribs, she goes for my head, face and neck. She’s also pissed. I try to buck and writhe away from her, but after a few moments, her punches…along with my physical exhaustion from my earlier workout…start taking their toll. As the blows rain down on me, I am no longer able to keep my arms and hands up to guard myself…soon I slump to the floor with her steadily raining punches into my defenseless body. Blow after blow sends jolting pain throughout my body. I start seeking ways to escape, but it seems that unconsciousness may be my only way out. Soon, darkness starts overtaking me. I look lazily around the room one final time….and straight into the eyes of my student.
I feel like curling up and crying. I am being humiliated in front of the one person I most want to impress. And I also fear what will happen to her if I pass out. What will the crazy Australian bitch do with her? She’s already possibly broken the poor girl’s ribs. God, I can’t let this happen! But what can I do?
I start struggling and bucking with renewed intensity. But I fear this may be my last chance. But finally I get lucky. I work one of my hands free and a wild punch catches the redhead squarely in the crotch. The blow isn’t very hard, but it felt like a sledgehammer against her most sensitive area. She gasps in agony and slides away from me.
He punches definitely took their toll, I realize as I work my way into a sitting position. Seeing my opponent lying on her back clutching her aching crotch leaves me an open invitation. If she survives the next few seconds, I’m most likely done for. I won’t win a long, drawn out fight. I strike out with the heel of my foot and, to my great relief, it strikes gold. The heel of my foot lands with a sickening thud on the soft spot just under her chin. The Australian’s head snaps back as if it’s on a hinge, and then comes to a rest with her chin on her chest. Her head then lolls loosely to the floor, as the rest of her body goes limp.
I let out a huge sigh of relief when I realize the fight is over. But I’m still highly agitated at the way my student was treated. I decide to teach this bitch a lesson she’ll never forget. I achingly stagger to my feet and approach the fallen woman. I grab both of her wrists and drag her limp body across the floor to a weight bench. I let her limp arms fall back to the floor, and I grasp her under her armpits. I drag her limp body lengthwise across the bench and let her head and shoulders dangle over one side and her legs over the other. I walk to the weight rack and grab a 25 lb weight. I walk back over to the bench and get one good punch in with it before my victim’s boyfriend rushes me and tackles me to the ground.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you insane?” He screams at me! You’re trying to kill her!”
“I’m just going to break some of her ribs like she did to that poor girl,” I growl back at him as I point to my student…who is gingerly trying to get to her feet.
“You’re nuts! You should be locked away!” He says with conviction, as he covers his girlfriend’s limp body.
I glare at him for a moment, and then I softly say, “Get her the fuck out of here, and don’t let her come near me or anyone I care about ever again. If she does, I will kill her next time.”
Without even stopping to retrieve her belongings, the boyfriend lifts the redhead off the bench and hurries from the room. The entire time, he is saying “Crazy bitch,” in his cute Australian accent. After they leave, I sit down on the weight bench, hang my head, and softly cry to myself. Maybe it’s time I grow up and forget about this foolishness.
“Did you mean what you said?” My student softly asks after a few minutes.
I lift my tear-streaked face and ask, “About what, sweetheart?”
“What you said….about caring for me?”
“With all my existence.”
Tears flood her eyes as she says, “No one has ever said that they cared about me before. That’s why I have to make myself hate you so much.” As I look into her beautiful blue eyes to find meaning to her words….her right fist lands on my left jaw. I fall off the bench, onto the floor unconscious, as she runs from the room and out of the building into the warm, rainy darkness.
Author's Note:This story is the last of a three part series involving my good friend
BillEd's beautiful girlfriend Rissa. She is the Australian redhead in the story. This story is also another in a long line of follow-ups to my very first story, "The Threat."
I hope you enjoyed reading this story just as much as I enjoyed writing it!
J
xoxo
