Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader, Chapter 4

Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader, Chapter 4
By Jonica

I bury my forehead into the pillow and open my mouth to scream.  My body tenses and my hands claw at the fitted sheet stretched across the mattress.  I grip is so hard it slides loose at the headboard.  I low guttural howl builds in my throat while I try to hold back the inevitable eruption building in my body.  I close my eyes tightly as the force behind me pushes the crown of my head against the headboards with a thump.  “Nhhhhggggghhhh,” I moan lightly from the impact.  His hands feel warm on my sides as my hips begin to wiggle and squirm against the coming tide.  I open my eyes and moan again.  His thighs pound the backs of my legs mercilessly.  A rhythmic slapping sound echoes throughout the room and mixes with our sighs, groans, moans, and growls to form a kind of symphony of ecstasy.   Finally, my body tenses one more time and I can hold it back no longer.  The burning eruption comes in short bursts accompanied by little yips, “Oh” and “oh” and “oh” and “oh,” over and over.  My body rocks and wriggles until the tide begins to seep away.  I relax and roll to my side....his strong hands guiding me.

A little while later we are lying sideways...my butt pushed into his tummy...his hand resting on my hip.  I have since caught my breath and I lay still enjoying the sounds in the room.  I close my eyes and whisper, “Wonderful....”

He replies, “Yes....”

I smile and begin to nod off, but then my eyes open again and I ask, “But how is this part of my wrestling training?”

A short moment goes by, then Tony replies, “W-well....it's aerobic conditioning....

Split the "V"
Dot the "I"
Curl that "C"
T-O-R-Y, T-O-R-Y

Chapter Four:  Charting the Course

“It's time to step up her activity, Mary,” Lorie says to the small group assembled in her office.  The group consists of her...the federation manager, Mary....my wrestling teacher and biggest critic, Tony...my manager, and a myriad of underlings and hanger's on.  The group all agrees that the federation needs to exploit my inexplicable popularity, but they aren't quite sure how to do it.  Lorie refers to me as the “New Face” of the league (a prospect that has angered many of the other wrestlers).  However, in my short time here, they haven't figured out if I should be a “face” (explained to me as a goody type) or a “heel” (the bad one).  Mary and Tony think I should be a “face” until I at least get more experience.  Lorie wants me to try both angles.  Since she and her nameless entourage are the rulers of the federation, that is just what will happen.

“Do you have an opponent in mind?”  Mary asks Lorie after a short pause.

“You don't seem to like the idea, Mary.  Her next opponent really doesn't matter.”  Lorie retorts.

“You are going to get her hurt.  She's lucky Katrina didn't smear her all over the mat.  She will if they wrestle again.”

“Mary, Joni has shown great promise.  Ratings are up.  Souvenir sales are at an all time high.  It's time to use her to her fullest potential!”

“You mean it's time to exploit her until someone new comes along.”

This exchange goes back and forth until it finally boils over into the two former champions standing nose to nose yelling at each other.  It takes a full minute for the crowd to separate them.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY OFFICE!!!”  Lorie demands, “Sadie!  Sadie will be her next opponent.  Friday night!”

The room goes quiet.  Mary looks at her with mouth agape, “Sadie?”  She shakes her head, “Sadie has been wrestling since she was 9 years old.  In case you haven't noticed, that's ten years longer than Joni.”  Mary shakes her head again, “She will decimate your new 'face.'”

“Mary...the match will be Friday night.  You underestimate your protege.  Now get out.”  She emphasizes that the conversation is over by turning her desk chair to stare out at the Mississippi.


I never really understood politics of any kind, and it's no different here.  I don't want to argue about which course I should take in my new career.  All I know is I am making a boatload of money for the first time in my life and I don't want that to end.

“I don't know her.”

Tony thinks for a moment and says, “Well...she was one of the stars of the promotion but she left for a tour of Japan about a year since we arrived.  She's very talented.  She's also a vicious heel.”

I look at her promotional photo again.

“Really?  Her?  A heel?”  I cut my eyes at Tony, “She looks like the sweet girl who lives next to my grandma.”

“That's how she suckers you in.  She acts all sweet and innocent.  She doesn't talk much.  Then she cheats like a five dollar hooker.”

I squint my eyebrows trying to think what a five dollar hooker does to cheat, but Tony cuts me off before I can say anything, “She's really good.  Championship material good.  She's only 19 years old.”

I look at him quizzically, “Only 19?  How can she be THAT good?”

“I guess you will just have to learn the hard way.”

The conversation ends with a knock on the door.  “You're up, Joni.”  A voice calls from outside.  I smile sweetly at Tony, “Time to get win number two,” and I walk into the corridor leading to the arena with him in tow.

Sadie is already in the ring when I make my way down the aisle.  The chorus of cheers tells me that I really am the fan favorite tonight.  I am wearing what is becoming my trademark purple two piece outfit with gold trim...the colors of my beloved Louisiana State University Bayou Bengals.  A pair of ankle high wrestling boots complete the outfit.

Tony holds my hand and steadies me as I walk up the steps to the ring apron.  I take a deep breath and step between the middle and bottom rope, then I do what is becoming another hallmark of my performances...I smile sweetly and perform a series of backhand springs across my side of the ring.  I come up with my hands raised over my head and the crowd goes wild!  My smile is genuine.  I am quickly overcoming my fear of wrestling in front of crowds.

Across the ring, Sadie rolls her eyes and tries to look relaxed.  She is basically posing...showing off her incredible body with her elbows resting on the top ropes.  The announcer begins his introductions and confirms that we are pretty much even in height and weight.  She is an inch taller than my 5'2” but we weigh almost the same at 112 lbs.  He annouces that she is from Alabama.  Now that is very interesting!  Everyone knows the intensity of the LSU/Alabama rivalry is second to none in the South.  She even looks like a country girl from Alabama...at least she dresses the part.  For her ring attire she has chosen a black sports bra and a pair of cutoff blue jeans cut extremely high in the legs...a genuine pair of Daisy Duke's!  A pair of short, black wrestling boots finish the outfit.  Again I think, there is no way she can be a heel!  She looks like the prom queen.  Well....if Bumfuck, Alabama has a prom queen, that is.

The referee goes through his normal pre-match routine of patting us down for weapons or foreign objects...which is basically his way of getting a free shot at fondling us.  When he is finished, he walks to the middle of the ring and motions for the bell.  I take a deep breath and move out of my corner.  My tummy is suddenly tied into knots when Tony's words of warning come back to me.  How good can she be?

We circle and close the gap between us.  Her eyes shine with a bright glow that says she loves this and she loves the thrills found here.  She raises her hands and wiggles her fingers at me.  I take this as an invitation to test our strength against each other.  My hands raise to meet her and our fingers interlock.  We begin pushing against each other.  The muscles in our arms and neck strain and it becomes apparent that we are pretty much evenly matched in the strength department, but too my surprise I get a little momentum going and she takes a step back.  I press the sudden advantage and step forward....right into the sole of her boot...which sinks deep into my tummy.

My eyes open wide as well as my mouth.  The air is driven from my lungs from the unexpected kick to the belly.  I drop to my knees as Tony's admonition rings in my ears, “She cheats like a five dollar hooker.”

I don't get much time to ruminate on his warning because Sadie has her hand in my hair.  Her voice echoes throughout the arena when she taunts, “Idiot!” then snaps a knee into my chest.  The blow knocks me onto my back.  I begin to roll toward the ropes, but she snares one of my feet and pulls me back toward the middle of the ring.  Then she stops and kicks the toe of her boot into my hamstring.

“Aggghhhh!!!”  I scream from the sharp, stinging pain and I yank my foot trying to pull it free, but she plants her boot on my tummy and twists my foot causing pain to rocket through my ankle and into my knee.

“I always knew you Cajun twats were worthless,” she continues to taunt.  She lifts her boot and slams it onto my tummy.  I squirm and try to pull my leg free again but she twists my foot violently causing me to gasp then scream so loud the crowd goes silent.

“NGGGHHHHHHAAAAGHHHH!!!!”

I guess even they realize I am outclassed in this one.

But then a funny thing happens.  Remember when I said I am not into politics?  I was filled in about the entire conversation between the interested parties.  I know that Mary...my coach...doesn't think much of me.  I know Lorie wants me to succeed...but only for the good of the federation.  I think Tony sincerely likes me.  The rest are looking at the bottom line.  All I know is I want to earn more money and have fun doing it.  I won't be earning much money at all if Sadie breaks my foot off...which is what she seems to be trying to do.  Also, I won't last much longer here if I don't start showing improvement.  They will find another “face of the federation” and I will be back to dancing on polls.  The funny thing is that I no longer feel the pain...even though it feels like my foot is being torn off.  It seems to focus me on the task at hand.  It makes me angry.  It makes me want to beat Sadie until she pees herself.  It makes me want to win.

The boot of my free leg draws back then slams forward against Sadie's balancing knee.  The look on her face tells me the move worked.  She releases my foot and falls onto her side.  I quickly scramble away and get to my knees.  I stand and nearly fall back down from the damage done to my own foot, but I regain my balance and stare at my opponent as she rocks from side to side holding her knee.

“Oh fuck!”  I think I say it aloud.  I truly hope I didn't cripple her!  But she puts my fears to rest when she rolls onto all fours and starts to get to her feet.  I waste no time...I'm still pissed about damn near everything...in rushing her and kicking her in the ribs like a football placekicker.  She rolls onto her back holding her ribs.  A dark bruise forms where the toe of my boot landed and her hands try to cover that area.  She grabs the ropes and begins to pull herself to her knees and I run in again.  This time...the top of my boot slaps against her side and lower back.  She falls onto her butt and tries to grab the ropes again.  The referee pushes me back and orders me to my corner, but fuck him!  She started this shit!  Plus I have to prove I am one of the top talents here!

I push back by the referee and grab Sadie's hair just before she can slip out of the ring.

Anger can be a powerful motivator.  It can also be a huge downfall.  I learn that last lesson painfully when Sadie reacts to me grabbing her hair by slamming an elbow into my crotch.  The low blow stops my surge of momentum in it's tracks.  I bend over suddenly and slam my knees together.  Back peddling, my hands go to my aching crotch.  I feel the sudden urge to vomit.  I make it all the way into the corner and rest my butt on the middle turnbuckle.

By this time, Sadie is on her feet rushing at me.  Another surge of anger washes over me and I forget about the pain in my lower abdomen.  I push out of the corner and meet her charge.  She has a slight momentum advantage but due to my position on the turnbuckle, I am lower, therefore, I have a slight leverage advantage.  These circumstances lead to us meeting in the middle and coming to a dead stop.

This federation is all about wrestling.  We are professionals who pride ourselves on training to be the best in our chosen field.  We are athletes who love competing and love the thrills associated with human combat.  Now...with that said...Sadie is probably one of the most talented wrestlers I will ever face.  She is only 19 but she has the ring acumen of someone much older.  She may have the skill and determination of Mary, and the strength to match up with Lorie.  I...on the other hand...have been described as a diamond in the rough.  I don't have much skill, but I make up for it in will and determination.  Lorie says I have the best ring presence she has ever seen...although I am sure she is lying.  However...at the moment none of that makes a difference.  When we slam together in the middle of the ring, the rules of wrestling suddenly get tossed out the window and we literally fight like two cats in a confined space!

We spit, growl, curse, and roll around like two high schoolers fighting over a boyfriend as the beleaguered referee tries to separate us.  My top gets ripped in the wild melee and hers gets pulled down to her bellybutton.  After a few minutes, the ref finally manages to pull us apart and stand between us until we back into our respective corners.  I glance outside the ring and see Tony staring in wide-eyed fascination.  Mary has her forehead resting on one hand and she is shaking her head slowly from side to side.  Lorie, though, is smiling from ear to ear because the crowd is cheering wildly.  The excitement in the arena is palpable.  The place is truly rocking!

The referee gives a few moments to get our composure then he steps aside and says, “Wrestle!”

Slowly we move out of our corners and circle each other.  The anger we both felt earlier has been replaced with steely determination.  We both not only want to win this match....we have to win this match.

This time I make the first move.  I step to one side the when she reacts I quickly step back the other way.  My right arm sneaks out and loops around her head.  I move back in the other direction and I pull her cheek hard against my side in a classic side headlock.  I have decided to try and wrestle using the methods Mary has taught me...hopefully this will calm me and let me out wrestle the cheater.  However, I forgot that Sadie is one of the most talented grapplers in the federation...or so they keep telling me.  I twist my hips and drive my side into her tummy.  Twisting back the other way, I execute a perfect hip toss that that drops me right on top of Sadie.  But remember my earlier comment about her grappling skill?  When I land...she pushes up with her hips and creates enough momentum to roll me onto my shoulders in a variation of the small package pin.  I kick my feet wildly to escape, but Sadie grabs the back of my shorts to help her keep my shoulders down.  The referee slaps the mat...once....twice.....but stops when I hook my foot under the rope.  He immediately calls for Sadie to break the pin.

We both get to our feet and glare at each other.  The crowd has grown silent so they can settle in and see the rest of the show.  Sweat runs down my nose and the harsh overhead lights beat down on the bare flesh on my body.  I wipe my forehead and try to dry my hand on my spandex shorts then I react to the onrushing Sadie.  She grabs my wrist before I can pull away and twists my arm painfully while pulling it straight.  My elbow points at the ceiling, and...in turn...I have to bend forward at the hips to keep her from pulling my arm out of it's socket.  I spread my feet to get a good defensive base, but she kicks me in the armpit with the toe of her boot.  I hiss, “Bitch!” and drop to one knee.  She responds by twisting my arm again.

I look up briefly and see shadow of concern in Tony's eyes, but Mary seems interested in the match again.  Lorie still has her wide smile.  Another twist of my wrist and I nearly faceplant on the mat.  However, this is all I need to be able to reach the ropes.  My freehand grabs on for dear life and the referee calls for the break.

Sadie breaks the hold cleanly and starts to step away, but then she changes course and grabs my hair...twists her hands in deep...and pulls back so hard that I land on my shoulder blades.  The back of my head snaps against the mat making me see stars for a moment.  The referee backs her into the corner and allows me to get to my knees.  I shake the cobwebs out of my head and try to clear the fog, but before I can, Sadie is rushing at me again.

Her body slams into mine and we topple through the ropes and land on the floor outside the ring.  We roll over a couple times with our arms fighting to lock the other but then she shoves me and I slam back first into the steel divider between the ring and the audience.  I fall forward with my back arched inward and Sadie grabs my hair and pulls me face first into the ring apron.  Again, I see stars.  Bright pretty ones.  A fist to the kidneys then I slump to the floor as she climbs back into the ring.  She watches from a corner as the referee begins to count me out.

By the time he gets to four...I am on my feet, rubbing my forehead.  By the time he gets to six...I am climbing onto the apron.  When he gets to eight, I roll back into the ring breaking the count.  The ring vibrates under me and I know Sadie is coming.  I look just as she leaves her feet for a body splash.  I twist my upper body and push off the mat with my knees and hips.  Rolling to the side just as she makes contact.  I use her momentum against her as we roll over and I push my weight against her butt and the backs of her legs.  I roll her into a picture perfect matchbook pin.  The ref's hand slaps the mat once....Sadie's body tenses to kick me off.  His hand lands twice but I can feel her starting to move.  She will kick out before he completes the count.

Sadie's Daisy Duke's ride down her ass so far her cut butt is partially exposed.  That isn't what interests me, though.  The cute blue thong with the red Superman symbols around the waist catches my attention.  Her legs begin to spring forward to break the hold but my hand grabs the thong and twists it deep.  The thin material cuts so deep into her booty and crotch that she squeals!  The referee slaps the mat a third time and calls for the bell.  I quickly let go of her thong and roll off her and into the corner.

I don't even think the crowd is sure what just happened.  They sit in stunned silence until the referee grabs my wrist and holds my hand in the air.  Pointing at me, he proclaims, “Winner!”

The crowd erupts with wild cheers and screams!  I cannot hide my smile as it sinks in.  Sadie is championship material....and I beat her!  Of course, I did cheat.  And Sadie is letting the ref know that I cheated.

“I didn't see it.”  He states flatly then looks at me with a sly wink.  He climbs out of the ring with Sadie hot on his trail.

I quickly scoot out of the ring and Tony is there to greet me.  “Great job, sweetie!”  He proclaims as he gives me a victory hug.


The arena is dark and most of the parking lot is empty when I leave.  Fresh from the shower, my hair still damp.  I walk toward my car thinking about what has happened in my life over the course of the last few months.  Lorie couldn't wait to come into the locker room.  Her smile tells me that she is beaming about the reviews of the match.  She even tells me that a national wrestling publication wants to do a feature story on me!  She even tells me that I am closing in on being ranked on the championships contender's list.

My, I have come a long way from the strip clubs on Airline Highway.  It's a long way from the swamps of Iberia Parish to where I am now.

I smile when I reach my car.  My thoughts distract me so much that I do not hear the person sneaking up behind me.  The smile is still on my face as I sink to my knees and then flat on my face.  The person behind me slips the blackjack into a dark jacket pocket and quickly leaves the area.

A Taste of Bitterness

A Taste of Bitterness
By Jonica

The steam rises from the floor and seems to hang all around me....enveloping and swallowing me.  My hair already drips with sweat and my body feels wet and slippery.  I stare across the small room at my opponent.  Sunny and I have fought before.  A long time ago.  I actually won that battle, but most importantly I gained a friend.  We even became a little more than friends.  We grew apart the last couple of years, though.  Now it seems that destiny has brought us together again.  As happy as I am to see an old friend, I am also a competitive person, by nature.  Sunny is the same way.  She returns my stare and I begin to circle to my right with my eyes locked on hers.

Wow!  She hasn't changed much over the last couple of years!  Except she might be in even better shape!  She looks terrific.  Her long dark hair hangs loosely down her back.  Her Asiatic features accentuate her beauty and give her a sultry look that melts hearts.  Her muscular body glistening with perspiration makes me catch my breath and gulp.  I bite my lower lip and continue to circle.  Now she is moving with me.  Her body taut as if she is expecting an attack.  The steam swirls and feels even hotter as we move.  My feet feel warm and wet on the slippery tile floor.  I have to be careful.  If she manages to get me on my back I could be in trouble.  However, being on my feet might not be much of an advantage against her.  She is obviously stronger than me, and she looks quick.  It's hard to believe I am bigger than her.  Looks can be deceiving.  She is muscular.  I am softer...lol.

Time seems to stand still as we continue to circle.  I briefly swipe a drop of sweat off my forehead to keep it out of my eyes, but she doesn't respond.  She keeps those intense eyes locked on mine.  A mocking...almost mischievous...smile pulls at the corner of her mouth.  Without even realizing it, I have closed the gap.  When I realize how close I am to her I imagine what those arms could do if they lock around me.  I intake sharply and her slight smile grows.  As it does, I move and tie up with her collar and elbow.  Big mistake.  All she has to do is lean forward and push against me.  Her strength and leverage advantage is evident immediately.  I stagger backwards and my foot slips on the wet tile.  I quickly regain my balance but she is already there.  Her hand slips under my arm and pulls me into her.  She twists her hips and my feet fly over her back.  The room echoes with the slap of wet flesh and the thud of bone on wet tile as I land on my shoulder blades and back.

"NGGGHHHHHH!!!!"  I groan from the impact and try to catch my breathe but her hand grasps my hair and pulls me into a sitting position.  My hand grabs at her wrist but it's too late.  Her knee slams into my chest, driving me onto my back again.

"Ummmpppphhhhh!!!"  I moan on impact.

Already reeling...I roll onto my side.  My sweat slick back peels off the tile with a wet hiss.  My purple thong is already soaked.  I try to get to my knees, but something slams into my back driving me forward.  I reach out to stop myself from hitting the tile benches face first, but there is no fear of that.  Two arms snake under my armpits and pull me roughly backwards.  Her breasts mushroom against my back and her hot breath steams against my ear.  Her knee lifts and slams so hard into my butt and crotch that it literally lifts me off my feet.  Then she does it a second time.

"Ummmpph.....ummmpph!!!"  I groan from the two knee lifts...then I feel her hands braid behind my neck.

"So this is my welcoming party, huh?"  Her voice sounds in my ear.  Her warm breath tickles my sweaty cheek as she talks.  "And you're a champion here?"  She taunts as she locks on the full nelson and begins twisting her upper body back and forth causing me to flop limply around like a rag doll.  Each time she twists my nearly bare butt caresses her lower abs.  They feel like cold granite on my warm, wet skin.

My ponytail sweeps wildly across Sunny's face as she violently whips me back and forth in the tight full nelson.  My mind races trying to think of a way to escape but she has the hold on way too tight.  I think about lifting my heel and hammering it onto her barefoot, but each time I try she whips me so violently from side to side that I nearly lose my balance.  I fear that if that happens she might snap my neck!

My legs begin to go weak anyway, and I fear that I am about to fall.  My breathing...as it is...becomes more and more labored.  My chin tucks hard against my chest and I begin to think I might pass out.  However, Sunny has different ideas.  After a few minutes of this back and forth motion, she simply releases the hold in mid-motion and momentum carries my body against the hard tile wall.  I slap the wet tile with a smack of bare flesh and a grunt of pain, "Ummmppphhhh."

The impact is so hard that I stumble back a few feet before landing on my butt with a thud.  I try to slump onto my side so I can regroup, but Sunny is apparently in no mood to let me rest.  "Get up sweetie!"  She says in her nasally New York accent then she pulls me onto my knees by the ponytail.

"NggggggGGGHHHHH FUCKKKKKK!!!!"  I scream in frustration and pain as she handles me like a play toy again.  Now on my knees, she kneels in front of me and pulls me face down towards her.  She locks her arm around the back of my head and pulls me cheek against her side....more accurately against the side of her naked breast ...and locks on a brutal front face hold.  My hands immediately begin pushing against her side and I try to reach around her, but the viciousness of her early onslaught has left me somewhat drained.

I open my eyes and stare at her hip while she crushes my face against her side.  Her boob presses against my cheek causing my mouth to moosh into a sneer.  I begin to panic when she rocks from side to side making my face twist and mash even more against her breast.  I fear that she will work my head into position to have my mouth and nose pressed into her side, thus smothering me.  I have no desire to be knocked out here in the steam room!  I slam my fist into her side with all the power I can find.  Then I do it again.  And again.....

I am rewarded with some painful grunts from my opponent, but not with a weakening of the hold.  Instead she taunts me, "My my....you do have some fight in you!"  Then she falls onto her butt and back...pulling me headfirst down with her.  The crown of my head hits the hard, wet tile so hard that I see stars.  Her powerful thighs raise on either side of me and clamp down.  I find myself literally face down / ass up with her scissoring me in two AND my head is still pressed against her boob!

Sunny rocks back and the crown of my head grinds painfully against the wet tile floor.  "Ngggghhhhhh," I moan pitifully but the sound is muffled because my mouth and nose are firmly mashed against her bare, sweaty boob.  Her powerful thighs cut into my sides and I literally feel my ribs cracking!  I know there is no way I can make a comeback now.  This fight is lost....hell, if you can even call it a fight!  Sunny has pretty much destroyed me!  I am supposedly a champion here!  Sunny is no rookie, but I know the ins and outs of this league.  However, here I am.  Trapped and whimpering.

I lift my hand and lightly tap her side to signal my submission.  In response, I get a giggle and another nasally taunt,  "My my!  Giving up so soon?"  Another giggle, "I don't think so Joni!"  The she rolls onto her side and pins my head under her body and locks the scissors on even tighter.  I frantically slap her side to signal my submission.

"Nope.  Not accepted.  It's over when I say it's over."

Her sweat slick side and boob crush my head against the warm, wet tiles and my feet thrash wildly.  My hand keeps tapping her side over and over, but now it's obvious she is just playing with me.  She keeps me trapped like this for a few minutes until I finally give up and go limp.  She squeezes her thighs one last time and then frees me.  I roll onto my back on the warm floor and lie there moaning pitifully.  I haven't been woman-handled like this in a long, long time.

Two hands grip my hair and pull me into a sitting positions.  Then I am yanked forward between Sunny's thighs.  Her legs squeeze my sides lightly but not as hard as before.  I open my eyes and find that I am facing her.  "Play time, Joni,"  She giggles again.  I try to squirm away but she tightens her thighs so hard that I yelp, "Ngghh!"

"Stop that!  If you try that again I will break you in half!"

I stay still and keep my eyes closed tightly.

"Lick my bellybutton, Joni..."

I open my eyes and look up at her.  Did I hear her right?  A tight squeeze from her thighs tells me I did.

"I said lick my bellybutton!  Kiss it like your fucking prom date!"

I whimper again, "S-Sunny p-please....you won...."  Another tight squeeze and I obediently run my tongue over her sweaty tummy.  I literally French kiss her bellybutton.

My body is not hot but not from being in a steam room fighting.  Now it is hot and red from humiliation and embarrassment.  A giggle tells me that she knows what I am feeling, but she does not tell me to stop.  My tongue slides into her bellybutton and my lips form a seal around it.  I lightly suck and taste the salty sweat and body heat on my lips.  Her tummy pulses as she breathes.  After a few minutes of this she locks her arms around my head and holds my face in place.  Pressed tightly against her tummy, she begins to suffocate me.  I reflexively push and struggle, but it's no use.  She holds me like this until my movements get slower and slower.  Finally, on the verge of passing out, she releases me.

I have no energy to resist as she strips my thong off my beaten body.  I lay naked and beaten on the warm, wet steam room floor.

"Open your eyes, Joni."

I keep them tightly closed.

"I said open your damn eyes!  I want you to see what is coming!"

Fearing she might make me lick her tummy again...I open my eyes.  I whimper but offer no resistance.  She has stripped her thong and is standing astride my body looking over her shoulder at me.  I know exactly what is coming....and there is no way I am in position to defend against it.  She lowers her naked, sweaty butt until it engulfs my face.  Her legs close tightly around my head to make sure that I cannot move it.  Her anus on my nose....pussy covering my mouth.

"Goodnight, bitch..."

Those are the last words I hear although for the next few minutes I taste and smell a myriad mixture of sweat, humidity, the bitter tangy aroma of her nether region, and.....and her excitement.

Then nothing.

I wake up later still in the steam room, but Sunny has since gone to enjoy her total victory.  Naked and beaten.  Humiliated and abused.  I get to my feet and walk to the dressing room with my head down so no one can see the bitter tears of defeat.

The End

The Stripper and The Cheerleader

The Stripper and the Cheerleader
By Jonica

Amy and Kara had never met, even though they graduated within one year of each other from the same high school.  They even saw each other on occasion, but neither had no idea who the other was.  No reason for them too, really.  They ran in different circles...hung with different crowds.  The older girl, Amy, was a troubled child.  She stayed with the stoners and the heavy metal crowd.  By the time she was fourteen she had her first tattoo.  She dropped out of school altogether in the middle of her senior year.  Later that same year she took the stage at a local club and has been dancing around brass poles ever since.

Kara, lived what might have seemed like a charmed life.  She cheered and played softball.  She was a straight A student who didn't even need the cheer scholarship she later earned at the University of Alabama.  She could have gone on grades alone.  However, Kara was athletic and she loved to cheer.  She was always told she was a winner, so going to Alabama only solidified that theory in her mind.  Kara wasn't cocky, though.  She was quite the opposite.  She was one of the nicest cheerleaders in the squad.  Kara's biggest vice was she loved to compete.  She was always looking for a challenge...any challenge.  She played intramural sports that didn't interfere with cheer.  She played online games.  She excelled at cards and gambling.  She simply loved pitting herself against others.  She is an accomplished tennis player and golfer...not good enough to go pro in either, but good enough to win many of the games.  When she was bored, she would make up games to play....with herself if no other opponents were available.

Amy...on the other hand....was the antithesis of Kara.  Her life was rough.  Her mother was a drug addled stripper/prostitute who would routinely leave Amy caring for her two siblings at the ripe old age of 9.  That didn't last too long though past her 11th birthday, though.  One fire was all it took.  The state took all of them and placed them into foster care.  Amy was bounced around until the day she turned 17.  She spent the latter part of that year being labeled a runaway.  She didn't much care.  She started stripping that year too.  She lied about her age, made up a social security number, then lived off tips and handouts from then until now.  Amy really liked stripping.  She loved the freedom it offered.  The money was nice too.  She was proud of the fact that she hadn't taken drugs since she turned 18.  That's almost imaginable for a stripper.  Dancing was her drug now.  She had dreams of someday dancing for the New York Ballet.  She sometimes closed her eyes and daydreamed that she was Clara dancing with her Nutcracker.  Of course she would always open her eyes and find that she was still inside the seedy club and her partner was a cold, dull gold pole.  She didn't let this get her down, however.  She was dancing.  Someday she would get the chance to go somewhere.  Somewhere other than this dive.

One bright sunny spring day, Kara was sitting in her apartment bored out of her mind.  Most of her friends had gone back to wherever it was they came from for summer vacation, and the rest didn't play games.  She could go to the golf course but the only competition she would find there would be blue-haired grandmothers who would rather take their time and drink their mint juleps than play golf, or it would be randy old men who loved to watch her ass on her back swing.  No, not today.  She was bored...not desperate.  She was so bored she even started thumbing through the Penny Saver.  While sleepily skimming the want ads she ran across an add that make her open her eyes wide:

Wanted:  Young, fit women who love to compete, are not afraid to take part in tests of strength and skill, and love to match wits with like minded counterparts.  If interested, call 867-5309.  Ask for Jenny.


Kara was intrigued.  She did a *69 then called the number.  She did as instructed and asked for Jenny.  A short wait with a Tommy Tutone song playing over the air then Jenny answered.  When the call ended, Kara was even more intrigued!  She packed a gym bag with the instructed items and headed for her car.

A few miles away, Amy was riding in a Ford Bronco with her boyfriend.  He wanted her to try something new.  Something that could earn her a lot of money, and let him witness a spectacle he's wanted to see for a long, long time.  Amy won't lie...she's nervous.  This is unknown to her.  She is used to taking her clothes off in front of men, but this will be a first.  She has...so far...managed to avoid oil and mud wrestling.  She has no need to ruin her knees or break her ankles.  She is interested in this concept, however.  Wrestling another girl in front of a group of gambling men isn't much different than taking her clothes off in front of a similar crowd, right?  What's the worst that could happen?  She was told on the front end that if she got hurt they would pay the hospital bills and give her a nice stipend to tie her over until she can dance again.

The old warehouse was in a rundown part of town.  Kara was nervous because her kind never came here.  Amy was nervous, but she was more used to this than Kara.  Plus, Amy had her boyfriend to protect her.  He is a biker, after all.  Kara came alone.  She literally ran from her car with her bag clutched tight until she entered the building.  

Both girls were greeted warmly and escorted to separate dressing rooms.  The inside of the building was nothing like the outside.  This was a place made of old money and expensive upkeep.  This wasn't just a place to gamble...this was a club in and of itself.  Amy was impressed.  She's danced in some nice places, but nothing like this.  She could make a bundle here if there happened to be a brass pole somewhere near.

Kara locks the dressing room door behind her and quickly changes into the outfit she was instructed to wear.  She is not only nervous, but she is a little scared.  This is totally new to her.  However, she has to admit the thought of being locked in combat with another woman close to her size is very interesting.  So interesting, in fact, that she promises herself she will see this through.  She is doing this for herself, not for a bunch of screaming drunks and redneck sports fans.  This is all about Kara.  Win or lose, this will be interesting.

After a few minutes, a knock on the door snaps Amy out of her reverie.  Her grateful boyfriend was giving her soothing massage to loosen her up.  She takes a deep breath and asks, “How do I look?”  Her boyfriend responds with a wink, a nod, and an a/ok sign.  She grins and exits the room.  Her flip flops are the only sound in the corridor until she reaches the main room of the warehouse.  She takes a look around and smiles, this is her kind of crowd:  Rich, slightly drunk, and ready to spend some money.  Unless her opponent is a stripper...she won't have to worry about being uncomfortable.

A few minutes later, Kara enters the same room but from a different corridor.  She looks around at the faces in the crowd and she is shocked to see some of the old men she's played gold with looking at her with mouths agape when the recognition grows in their eyes.  However, they have the decency to not say anything.  They better not.  She knows where to find them.  They have seen her in shorts and a polo shirt before.  This is the first time they have seen less.  Her thick 5'0 130 lbs body clad in a black sports bra with pink trim and black hiphuggers with a pair of pink sheer exercise shorts over them.  Her long dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail.  Her muscular cheerleader body shines under the lights from a light sheen of perspiration.  She was trying not to but, but now she has no choice...she looks across the thin blue mats at her opponent.  Kara has had a little telltale sign of nervousness since she was a little girl.  As she looks at the woman she will wrestle in front of these men, she literally chews on her lower lip.

Standing across from Kara is the blonde Amy.  She is wearing a red and white spaghetti strapped top over her red lace bra.  A pair of black nylon cheeky panties complete her outfit.  She isn't the athlete Kara is, but dancing has firmed her 5'3 128 lbs body to near perfection.  The only blemishes are the occasional freckle and the tattoos that skirt her body.  Her peroxide blonde hair hangs loosely down to her shoulders.  Before they realize it, the two highly competitive women are standing almost nose to nose on the cool mats.  How they got that way, neither could later explain, but here they are.

They keep moving closer and closer until their bellies finally touch.  They each take an involuntary step back like an electrical pulse raced through their bodies.  But they continue staring at each other.  Hands on their hips and eyes locked on each others.  After a few moments, the blonde drops one arm then suddenly pushes it into Kara's shoulder.  A light push and the brunette staggers back.  She regains her balance and her competitive drive takes over.  She steps back toward the blonde and shoves her hard with both hands.  “Smells like stripper in here,” she growls as she shoves the taller blonde.

Statistics would probably prove that most fights begin with either a sucker punch or some sort of pushing and shoving.  This one is no different, but both women were told that punching was strictly prohibited in this match.  Amy would like nothing more than to knock the shorter girl the fuck out for her comment, but she knows that won't get her paid...and Bobby deserves to see the wrestling match he wants.  She will just have to find another way to make this snotty bitch pay for it.  So instead of punching the shorter girl, Amy lunges at her and grabs for her head.  The brunette tries to duck, but their bodies crash together with a smack of flesh on flesh and grunts of effort.  The taller girl's left arm snakes around Kara's head and then the blonde twists her hips in an attempt to force her opponent into a side headlock.  However, when Kara ducks, Amy loses her balance and they both fall to their knees.  The blue mats feel cold under their bare skin but they really don't notice that.  Instead they focus on the task at hand.  Both women have been in fights, of course.  That is the nature of their lives...one being competitive and the other growing up on the streets....but this is different.  This is competition at it's purest.  Two near equals struggling against each other to see who will come out on top.

When they fall to their knees, Amy sees a quick leverage advantage and decides to take it.  She shifts her body weight and throws her left leg over the kneeling girl's back.  Then she begins to slide around to Kara's rear.  The squirming brunette senses this can't be good and she tucks her chin to her chest as much as she can, then she begins to pull her arms and elbows close to her sides.  She squats on her knees as the taller girl pushes all her body weight onto her foe.  Kara is fortunate she tucked her chin because it is a simple move for Amy to slip from the headlock to a rear choke by simply moving her arm.  Kara keeps her chin tucked to her chest and Amy can only grind her forearm against the brunette's chin...which is painful enough, Kara decides.

Cheerleaders are natural athletes.  Anyone who has gone to a major college sporting event will tell you that.  They have extraordinary upper body strength which allows them to do the crowd-wowing stunts.  But their real secret is in the power of their legs, butts, and hips.  Amy learns really quick the power that a well-trained cheerleader has in her lower body as she keeps trying to break through her opponent's defenses and apply a choke.  She learns it the hard way.  Kara's body is literally coiled underneath Amy, and Kara senses the opening she needs when Amy gets a little too close to her shoulders.  The shorter girl suddenly pushes off the mat with her feet and thrusts her hips upward.  The surge of energy catches the blonde off balance and she stumbles forward, but even still she tries to keep her grip on her rival's head.  This proves to be a mistake when Kara bucks upward again while pushing as hard as she can with both arms on the mats.  The blonde loses her balance and lands hard on her side.  Kara, keeping her momentum stands and charges the stunned tattooed girl.  She grabs the blonde's arm with both hands and begins trying to pull her onto her stomach.  Kara is familiar with mixed martial arts, and she knows an arm bar can be a a devastating submission move.  She has never tried to use one...even when wrestling her boyfriend...but the thought of 'no better time than now' goes through her mind.

Kara twists Amy's arm and she almost has the stunned girl on her side, but then Amy senses the precarious situation she is about to be in.  She quickly swings her hips toward her opponent and manages to work one leg between Kara's spread feet.  Yanking her wrist...which is now slick with perspiration...she forces Kara to almost lose her grip.  Then she slams both her knees against Kara's left leg and pulls hard with her arm.  The force of the move coupled with Kara's leg being caught between the blonde's knees causes the shorter girl to lose her balance.  She staggers forward....releases Amy's wrist and topples on top of her foe.  The girls roll over and over struggling to get the upper hand.  Their arms and legs working feverishly trying to work to an advantage.  The roll from side to side...each wrestler on top at one point...but when they finally run out of momentum, Amy finds herself trapped in a body scissors by the cheerleader.

The power in a cheerleader's lower body can never be overstated.  It is immense, and they are almost always in great shape.  In this position:  Kara sitting on the mat with the trapped blonde on her knees, Kara can squeeze as long as she wants.  When her muscular legs tense, a yelp of shock and fear slips from the blonde, “NgghAAGGHH!!”  A smile crosses the powerful brunette's face and she feels certain the end is near.  It's just a matter of time.  Another pulse with her thighs...another yelp, “NGGHHH!!”  Amy's hands slam down on the brunette's knees and she starts writhing and squirming to free herself, but she is locked in good.  She even begins to sense the inevitable unless she can get a miracle.  She falls onto her butt and keeps pushing on her foe's knees but those damn thighs seems to squeeze even more.  Amy feels like she is about to hurl, and a tear forms in the corner of her eye.  Her hands slide down Kara's knee and shin moving to the brunette's locked feet.  There, she grabs the closest thing she can find....her tormentor's big toe.  Amy twists with all the strength she has left and this time it's Kara's turn to squeal, “Heyyy agggghhhh!!”  Her thighs let up ever so slightly and the desperate blonde sees a narrow opening.  She uses one hand to twist Kara's big toe and the other pushes hard on the brunette's knee.  She gets just enough room to wriggle her body up so that it's her hips that are trapped instead of her stomach.  Another twist and push on the knee, and their sweat-slick bodies slide farther apart and suddenly Kara can take no more of having her toe twisted.  Her feet pop free and she pushes away from the blonde.  Frustration and anger apparent on her face.

Kara rolls to her knees with her hands on her thighs.  Her chest rises and falls rapidly.  Her cheeks are flush and a deep scarlet...just as they always get during physical exertion.  Trying hard to catch her breath, she keeps her eyes locked on her opponent's.  Amy has gotten to her knees and is feeling much the same emotions as her opponent.  There is probably no way these two will ever be friends...not after this.  They are simply too competitive.  However, they both have a new found respect for each other.  Kara used to think all strippers were drug-hazed prostitutes....not this one though.  Amy always believed cheerleaders were spoiled, baby-faced, wimps.  Her attitude has certainly changed.  While the catch their breathes, they look around the room.  Their mostly male audience is quiet and watching the action with rapt attention.  For the first time, Kara really takes in the room.  The 'ring' is a sunken area in the middle of the room covered with the a fore mentioned blue wrestling mats.  The circular ring area is surrounded by tables for the audience.  There are waitresses serving drinks, and it looks like the audience can opt for dinner here at 'the club.'  Kara wonders how many wrestlers have been here before.  Giving the amount of money Jenny told her she would earn for this one match, probably many others.  Kara has to admit, this is actually fun.  She hasn't felt so invigorated in a long time.  This really is the most primal form of competition.  She now knows what the ancient Olympians and the Roman gladiators felt when they squared off for hand to hand combat.

Across the mats, Amy is experiencing similar thoughts.  Her chest rises and falls and sweat streams down her tummy.    She, too, takes a moment to look around the room.  This crowd isn't much different that what she is used to performing for, but this is different.  This is the first time she has felt that the outcome will make a difference for her.  Yes, the money is good, but she feels this is the first time in her life she can actually earn a little respect for an accomplishment.  She has been exploited all her life...she is being exploited now..but this time she feels if she manages to overpower the other girl...and force her to submit...it will be a turning point.  One thing she know is she will do this again.  Not just for Bobby, but for herself.  She is relying on herself, her body, and her wits.  For the first time she feels truly liberated.

After a moment, the mutual truce is over.  The two heavy breathing, sweaty girls make their way towards each other again.  Their arms lift and they lock up in the middle of the mats.  The only sounds are their heavy breathing, the shuffling of their knees on the mats, the occasional grunt of exertion, and the slap of flesh on flesh.  With a quick burst of energy, Kara manages to slide her body behind the blonde and she quickly locks her forearm around her foe's throat.  Dropping to her butt, Kara pulls the stunned stripper between her legs.  The shorter girl's powerful thighs begin to constrict again but Amy spreads her own legs and get a little lucky...she manages to catch Kara's feet and spread her legs far enough apart to allow her to squirm to her side.  She pushes her elbow into the cheerleader's belly and uses her weight to apply pressure.  The twisting causes Kara to roll onto her side and she has to give up the choke to keep Amy from breaking her ribs.  Frustrated, she releases the blonde and rolls away.

Back on their knees, there is no truce this time.  The two combatants quickly move in on each other and lock up.  Pushing and tugging trying to get an advantage.  Amy is able to use her slight height advantage to snare the struggling brunette in a front headlock.  Thrusting her weight forward, she pulls Kara's face toward the mat and pushes her own body weight onto the trapped girl's upper body.  Still on her knees, Kara squirms and writhes but she is unable to buck the taller girl off.  She soon finds herself slipping off her knees and onto her side...the blonde's weight and leverage advantage taking their toll on the cheerleader.  Amy keeps the pressure on the shorter woman and starts trying to roll her onto her back.  She senses she has the match well under control and it's now time to wrap this up.  When she get's Kara on her back, she tries to slip one leg across her chest and straddle her victim.  She has a very specific plan now and she keeps her momentum going until she slips across her opponent's body and pulls her other leg across her tummy.  From this position, it becomes easy to time Kara's bucking and push her bottom leg under her opponent's back.  Shifting again, and then clamping down.....

Kara's squealing scream echoes around the room, “NGGGHHHAAAGGHHH!!!!” and the audience knows immediately she is hopelessly snared.  It's simply a matter of time now.  Those who bet on Kara hang there heads, and those backing the blonde stripper hold their heads high...unable to hide their smiles.

Speaking of smiles, Amy is not able to hide hers either.  For the first time in the match she finds Bobby and her smile grows when she sees the excitement and pride on his face.  Kara isn't quite done, though.  She still squirms and bucks.  Writhing and pushing, she nearly manages to loosen the hold.  However, Amy has the upper hand and she bides her time.  Kara bucks wildly and leans into her opponent a little too close allowing Amy to snare the frantic cheerleader's head and pull her face against her chest.  Rolling forward and tightening her dancer's legs around the struggling girl, Amy begins bullying the cheerleader into the mat.  Grinding and smashing the air from her victim's sweat slick body.

Kara has been a winner at just about anything she has ever done.  She was a runner-up in her high school district's tennis tournament (the girl who beat her is now on the women's pro tour...so no shame there).  She is a 3-handicapper in golf and easily won her district tournament.  She wound up fifth in the state, but three of the four who finished ahead of her are either on the LPGA or mini-tours waiting to go on the LPGA.  She cheers for the University of Alabama, for goodness sakes!  She is a winner!  However, her barefeet slap the mat in frustration and she cannot breath with her nose and mouth mashed against her foe's bosom.  Her mind races feverishly looking for an escape, but her body simply cannot find one.  Her squirming and writhing begins to wane along with her ability to breath.  The stripper's thighs feel like the squeezing her in half!

Amy, on the other hand, cannot hide her elation!  She has met an equal and conquered her!  Submission is just a formality now.  It will come.  Maybe quicker if she squeezes her thighs a tad tighter.  Each time she tightens her legs, she can literally feel a little more air leave her trapped victim's body.  Little puffs of air from the cheerleader's mouth and nose feel cool on the sweaty skin of her bosom.  Another glance at Bobby, and she smiles widely again.  The rest of the audience in on the edge of their seats awaiting the exact moment of relent.

They don't have to wait much longer.  Amy tilts her head forward and frees one hand just long enough to brush some strands of brunette hair off Kara's forehead.  She wants to see her victim's eyes when she finally submits.  She is rewarded by looking into green eyes that combine frustration, fear, regret, pain, and maybe a little respect.  Tears have formed in the corner of those beautiful eyes.  Amy squeezes again and sees the competitive spirit...along will to fight any longer...slowly leave Kara's eyes.  A light tap on her thigh and she releases the duel holds.  The match is over.

Even though she has released the holds, Amy doesn't let her opponent up just yet.  She shifts her weight and pushes the beaten girl onto her back.  Crawling to her knees, Amy straddles her victim's chest and sits...her eyes locked on Kara's.  She is thinking about Kara's condescending comment before the match began.  She doesn't even have to say anything, but she thinks Kara realizes it too.  For a moment, they look at each other...conqueror and vanquished.  A little nod from Amy that is returned by Kara is all the apology Amy needs.  She stands up and raises her hands over her head in a classic victory pose.  Another moment then she holds her hand down to her opponent to help her up.

Kara is a competitor.  She loves to win, but she also knows when she has been bettered.  This is one of those times.  Although she KNOWS deep down she can beat Amy.  She hopes that she gets a chance to prove that someday.  Someday soon, if she has her way.  She takes Amy's hand and slowly gets to her feet.  The audience is applauding already, but they cheer louder for this show of respect and sportsmanship.  The two girls...now side by side holding clenched hands...nod to each other and bow for the grateful audience.  Kara then shows her new found respect for the stripper by raising the victor's hand herself...then curtsying for her.  The crowd keeps applauding as the two combatants hug and then leave the ring.

A little while later, Amy leaves the old warehouse with a very nice paycheck.  She has also promised to return for more matches.  Jenny made the comment that no other fighters have ever gotten the ovation she and Kara received.  Amy was told the matchmakers would do whatever they had to do to get her and Kara to come back.  She rides with her head in Bobby's lap.  She sleeps so soundly she doesn't even remember him carrying her in and tucking her in bed.

Kara leaves a little after Amy.  She too has a nice paycheck, but that means less to her than the sensations she got from such an intense, competitive experience.  She knows she will return.  She even tells herself the emotions she is feeling must be similar to what crackheads feel when they try that gawdawful drug for the first time.  She doesn't know if she can ever get this feeling again, but she will try her best to recreate it each and every time.  Even though she lost, she is certain that with the right breaks, she could have won.  She wants that second chance so badly she will do whatever it takes to make it happen.

Jamie's Song

Jamie’s Song
By Jonica

Chapter 1

Her ponytail bobbed on the back of her head and sweat ran down her back.  The late evening Mississippi sun beat down on the bare flesh at the back of her neck and shoulders.  Her white t-shirt was sodden and sticking to her skin.  Jamie is one of the only inmates at the Northwest Mississippi Correctional Facility who is allowed to own a sports bra.  These were a luxury afforded prisoners here when they still had exercise equipment.  That was before an inmate’s throat was crushed in a horrific accident where a barbell fell across her throat.  Of course, Jamie is also one of the inmates who has been around NMCF long enough to know that ‘accident’ was an intentional act.  However, that led to the removal of exercise equipment from the facility.  Hence, there was no reason for the facility to offer sports bras. 

Jamie found other ways to keep in shape, though.  The prison yard was just big enough…if she ran along the fence line as close as she dared…for her to make a self-styled running track.  Year in, year out, for six years, Jamie ran.  She would stop in the middle of her running only to do some push-ups, sit-ups, and stretching exercises.  Over the course of time, she wore a path around the prison yard that became known as “10538’s Path,” which was Jamie’s official Mississippi Department of Corrections inmate number. 

Jamie has been here for 15 years…or more specifically, 14 years, 364 days, and 12 hours.  Her parole begins in a little over 12 hours…and she is terrified.  This is the only home she has known for 15 years…..15 years of dryness, soberness, and loneliness.  When she was 18, Jamie entered a prison cell and has looked at the inside of one for all of her adult life up to this point.  Jamie’s journey to adulthood came in a drug-induced haze of violence and savagery.  That night is still a foggy, almost dreamlike memory.  She has nightmares where she holds a gun to a young woman’s head while forcing her into the trunk of a car…her boyfriend holding a young man at gunpoint in the front seat of the same car.  She dreams about holding the gun to the young man’s head as her boyfriend drove them to an ATM machine in the southern suburbs of Memphis.  She remembers watching her boyfriend whip the young man with the pistol until he gave up his PIN number.  She will never forget the $60 dollars the ATM machine spit out.  She will always remember the price of her freedom for the next 15 years as being $60.45 cents:  the money from the robbery, and the $.45 the bullet lodged in the young man’s skull probably cost. 

Jamie got lucky.  She agreed to testify against her boyfriend in exchange for the 15 year sentence without the possibility of parole for 15 years.  In court, she testified that she watched in horror as her boyfriend took the young man to the bank of an overgrown ditch, and she watched as he shot him once in the side of the head.  After that, she testified, they drove to the casinos near Tunica, MS., and attempted to carjack a Cadillac in the parking lot.  However, their luck changed there.  The owner of the Cadillac was an off duty police officer.  He shot her boyfriend in the chest, thus ending their criminal career.  All that time, Jamie testified, she and her boyfriend forgot about the woman in the trunk of the other car.  Police found her…dehydrated but otherwise unharmed…during the investigation.  After that, she sat in a Tunica County jail with a pending murder charge looming over her head.  The other charges have already come down:  Kidnapping, especially aggravated robbery, aggravated assault, attempted carjacking, and the pending murder charge that could earn her a trip to Mississippi’s death house.  Fortunately for her…and her boyfriend…the young man clung to life and made an almost full recovery.  The murder charge never came.  She avoided the attempted murder charge by accepted the plea deal to testify against her boyfriend.  25 years for kidnapping and especially aggravated robbery.  There would be no chance for parole for the first 15 years. 

While incarcerated, Jamie was a model prisoner.  She earned her GED and later a BA in arts from a local college.  She is one of the very few prisoners in MDOC who have earned a four-year degree.  When the time came for her first parole hearing, her crime was basically forgotten.  The woman in the trunk had moved to California, and the boy with the bullet lived with his family in Florida.  The man who shot him…Jamie’s boyfriend…would not be eligible for parole until he has spent 32 years in prison.  He’s the one they were most interested in keeping. 

With her hands on her knees, Jamie let the hot May sun beat on her back.  Her sweat soaked shirt sticking to her skin.  She was alone in the yard.  Everyone knew she was getting out tomorrow, so the staff gave her time in the prison yard by herself.  She would be segregated from the general population so that no one would get any ideas and attack her in an attempt to ruin her parole.  Prisoners could be petty like that.  Why should anyone get their freedom while they were still locked up?  Jamie had to be careful. 

Jamie took one last look around the prison yard.  This will be her last run around the perimeter…she hoped.  She would do what she had to do to make sure it was.  Her new life would begin tomorrow.  Jamie was scared.  Life for a convicted felon is hard…to say the least.

Jamie finally goes inside and the correction officer allows her to shower.  She peels off the sweaty clothes and lets the hot, steamy water wash away the sweat, grime, dead skin, and the last 15 years of life in prison.  Another inmate comes into the shower, and Jamie tenses to see what will happen.  Their eyes meet through the haze of steam, and Jamie remembers how she felt the first time she walked into the showers here at NWCF.  The girl looks terrified.  I guess that explains why she is segregated.  Jamie returns her attention to the hot water and closes her eyes. 

Chapter 2

The sun wasn’t shining the next day as Jamie stood at the bus stop in Greenwood, MS. The bus was late…delayed by the May thunderstorms rumbling through the area.  The sky darkened as another round, more intense than the last, rumbled into the small city in the Mississippi Delta.  Jamie thought of her family.  Her father was never a part of her life, so she gave him little thought.  Her mother, on the other hand was always around.  Her mother was a mother in name only.  She was a drug-addled prostitute.  She gave birth to Jamie’s half-sister on the day she was arraigned.  Over time, however, Jamie’s mother found Jesus.  She gave up the drugs and the men.  She found a legitimate job and she actually did a pretty good job raising Jamie’s half-sister by working the nightshift at as an IHOP waitress in Gulfport, MS.  Her mother disowned her.  It’s hard enough for a single mother to raise a child without having to worry about the one gone bad.  However, Jamie’s little sister found out about her anyway.  They have been pen pals ever since.  Over the course of the last 15 years, Jamie has lived for only one thing:  the day she will finally meet her sister.  She has seen photos, but she can’t wait to actually lay eyes on her in person.  That day is finally here.  She is so excited that not even a tornado-warning siren a block away can dampen her spirit!

The bus ride is long, and the weather remains atrocious, but she finally arrives in Gulfport sometime after midnight.  To her dismay, no one is there to meet her.  Her sister said she would try to get her mother to come, but she could make no promises.  Apparently, mom was not swayed by the thought of seeing her first born. 

With a sigh, Jamie walks down the dark street toward a string of motels and casinos lining the Gulf coast.  She has approximately $375 on her.  She needs a place to stay to rest before beginning her new life of freedom. 

She finds a relatively inexpensive motel, and she collapses on the bed without removing her clothes.  She wakens to a stream of sunlight pouring in through the open restroom.  When she looks at the clock, she sees it is way past five in the afternoon.  She slept for almost 15 hours!  The rest of the evening is spent with futile attempts to reach her sister.  No luck.  As a matter of fact, the next three days are spent the same way.  Jamie’s mother would never allow her sister to send their address.  She only had a post office box number.  The address is unlisted.  The search has turned up empty, and Jamie is running out of money.

Chapter 3

Life for a convicted felon is hard.  Finding a job is almost impossible.  Not even McDonald’s will touch Jamie.  Not with her record.  Every job application she fills out asks for her criminal history.  Jamie is trying to be a honest person.  The applications are always denied.  Her parole officer actually takes pity and sends her to a few businesses that may help.  Unfortunately, they don’t have anything.  It’s a tough economy.  As a side note, Jamie did manage to get her sister on the phone.  They agreed to meet the next day.  However, her sister no-showed, and when Jamie called the number again….she got a message that the line had been disconnected.

The outside was supposed to be very different.  Looking back, Jamie isn’t sure what she should have expected, but she didn’t expect overwhelming depression.  She’s down to her last $50 and she is getting hungry.  If she doesn’t find a job soon, she will be unable to pay her parole officer.  She will be back in prison in no time.  She considers hopping a bus to New Orleans, where the job market might be better, but her sister is in Gulfport, not New Orleans, and she isn’t supposed to leave the state. 

Mired in a funk and loneliness that matches the one she felt during the long, lonely nights of her incarceration, Jamie finally collapses on a city park bench and puts her head in her hands.  Tears flow between her fingers and a taboo thought enters her head.  The thought begins to really take seed, and in her current condition, Jamie seriously considers suicide for the first time in 13 years.  Of course there were times she thought about it until she acclimated to institutional life, but this is the first time she has seriously considered it since she was 20.  Such was her desperation and despair. 

Tears flow between her fingers.  She is crying so hard now that she can’t control herself.  Her shoulders lift and fall with each choking sob.  All the memories of the last 15 years come flooding back:  The years of drug abuse.  The robbery.  The shooting.  God, how she wishes she could turn back time and right all the wrongs. 

Crying so hard and so long, Jamie does not see the middle-aged woman wearing black approach.  She doesn’t sense anyone near…such is her despair…until the woman speaks softly to her, “Cry it out.  You’ll feel better afterwards.”

Jamie jumps at the sound, but the voice is so soothing she actually feels a little comforted.  A warm hand caresses her hair.  Jamie has always been a guarded person, but this time she actually feels safe.  Almost like when one of the better correction officers was on her housing unit.  She knew nothing bad would happen that day. 

Jamie doesn’t even resist when her face is pulled to the stranger’s shoulder.  She smells clean fabric and a light whiff of perfume hits her, but nothing feels dangerous.  She continues to let the stress of the last 15 years pour from her.  Finally, the tears begin to dry and she develops a bad case of the hiccups.  After awhile, she is able to catch her breath and she sees the stranger before her. 

The older woman is dressed in a fine dark blue pantsuit.  Her hair is perfectly coiffed, and her expensive jewelry shines in the bright Gulf sunlight.  What is she doing in this downtown park talking to a convicted felon?  Jamie wonders to herself, but something about the stranger puts her at ease.  The woman smiles and simply says, “You can tell me about it, if you wish.  I am a good listener.”

For the next hour and a half, Jamie bared her soul to a total stranger in a city park.  She held nothing back.  Nothing.  Not the drugs.  Not the robbery, nor the shooting.  She told the stranger about her sister, and her futile attempts to find her.  She told her about her attempts to get a job.  She even told the woman about the thoughts of taking her own life.  When she was finished telling her whole life story to someone she doesn’t even know, Jamie fully expected the stranger to quickly make an excuse to get away from her.  However, before she knew it, she was riding in the front seat of a late model Cadillac heading for a home on the coast in Pass Christian.
  Two days later, after being fed and allowed to rest, Jamie showed up at the address the older woman provided her.  It was a restaurant in downtown Biloxi owned by the woman’s son.  She walked in expecting a job interview.  She wasn’t expecting to be handed an apron and ticket book.  Four hours of training later, and Jamie was waiting on her own customers.  The woman’s son turned out to be as friendly as she was. 

Jamie got a little money and after some time, the woman’s son, Phillip, helped her get an apartment in Biloxi.  For the first time in 15 years, her life was looking up.  However, Jamie still hasn’t seen her sister, and the pain is becoming evident.  She would work double shifts just to get her mind off her sister.  The phone number never reconnected.  Every attempt to find a new one was a dead end.  The hole in Jamie’s life kept getting deeper and deeper.  Even though she was free, she was still bound. 

Chapter 4

A few weeks into her new job, Jamie was called into her boss’ office.  She has gotten to know him fairly well, and she feels pretty comfortable with him.  She knows he is happily married, so she doesn’t feel threatened in that way.  She enters his office and sits across from him.  He has a very kind smile, but there is something in his eyes that makes her a little nervous, but she still doesn’t feel threatened.  She is just grateful to finally be making her own way.

“Jamie, you have become my best waitress.  In a short period of time, you have developed a pretty good clientele here.  Many come in and immediately ask for you.”

Jamie smiles shyly, not sure where her boss is going.  It almost sounds like she is about to get a promotion.  A raise in pay would certainly be welcome. 

“I have a new job proposition for you.  A woman with your looks could make a lot more money that you ever would waiting tables.”

As he says this, his eyes drift down her thighs and back up again.  For the first time in weeks, Jamie feels nervous around this man. 

“Sir, I…”

Her boss must have picked up on the sudden nervousness in her voice, and he holds his hand up to cut her off.  “Jamie, you are a beautiful woman.  How you managed to stay so youthful and vibrant under your circumstances is amazing.  The world is your oyster, and this could be the first step.”

Jamie’s mind races as she tries to process what he is telling her.  What is he going to ask her to do?  She will never prostitute herself. For one thing, that could lead back to prison.  For another, she wants to live a life of honesty and integrity from here on out.  No, she will do nothing illegal.

Again, her boss must read what she is thinking in her eyes.  “Jamie, what I am going to ask is not illegal.  I would never ask you to do anything that would compromise your freedom.”  Jamie sighs, but keeps listening intently, “But this is an opportunity to really better yourself.  For you….and your sister.”

Now she is hooked.  “We found her, Jamie.  Your mother will not let her see you, but we think if you can show you can take care of yourself without having to rely on someone else, she may have a change of heart.”

Jamie leans forward, now intent on every word.  “Your sister is sick.  She needs a kidney transplant.  That’s why you can’t reach her.  She’s in the hospital in New Orleans.  They are looking for a donor.”

“I-I-I have to go there….” Jamie begins, but her boss raises his hand to cut her off again. 

“Your mother has told the staff not to let you in.  She told them you are on parole.  She will have you arrested for crossing state lines.”

Jamie sobs once and puts her face in her hands.  Tears sting her eyes as the hopelessness of the situation hits her. 

“Jamie.  You have a chance, though.  If you accept my offer.”

For a moment she keeps her head in her hands and cries.  After a few minutes, however, she lifts her eyes and says, “I’ll do anything.”

Her boss sits back in his chair with a smile and says, “Perfect.”  Then he outlines his plan. 

Jamie walks out of his office 15 minutes later, not believing what she just agreed to do.

Chapter 5

The next night, Jamie walks into a seedy, rundown warehouse near the docks in Gulfport.  A steady rain is falling outside, but it can’t match the storm in her soul.  She still cannot believe what she has agreed to do.  Maybe she really has lost her mind.  She consoles herself by saying at least she isn’t prostituting herself.  She carried a small bag filled with only the items she was told to bring. 

Taking a look around the parking lot, Jamie couldn’t believe the number of cars there.  Surely they aren’t here for this, she thinks to herself.  She rolls her eyes and walks to the door she was told to go through.  When she opens it an absolute gorilla of a man meets her!  He has to be at least 6’8” and weighs somewhere in the neighborhood of 340 lbs.  At least!  He’s obviously a biker.  He has all the hair, tattoos, and patches…including a One Percenter patch.  This guy is the real deal.  However, Jamie has to bite her lip to keep from laughing when he talks, “Right this way, ma’am.”  His voice is that of a prepubescent teenager.  She looks at the rippling muscle under his hair and has to gulp though.  He is huge!  He seems harmless enough, however.  She still tries hard not to laugh out loud. 

The giant leads her to a small room with a table, some chairs, and a sofa.  He tells her there is a shower through the far door.  She looks at him and he smiles, “No one will bother you.  I promise.”  He blushes as he makes his little promise, and she almost laughs again, but she is positive she will be safe in here. 

She slowly begins removing her clothes until she is completely naked.  She covers her breasts with her arms even though she is certain no one is watching.  Taking a towel from her bag, she follows the instructions her boss gave her.  The bathroom is out of place.  It would fit in the finest apartments in the city.  Jamie steps onto the cool tiles and lets the hot water stream down her body.  She scrubs and scrubs until she feels the warmth soak into every pore.  She washes her hair and steps out of the shower wrapped in towels.  Drying her body, then her hair, she stands before a steamed over mirror and brushes her hair because this is her nervous habit when she is thinking.  Jamie is scared.  She is more worried than she has ever been in her life.

After a few minutes of brushing her hair and worrying, she looks at the clock and sighs.  She has to get ready.  She gathers what she was told to wear from her bag, and dresses.  Then she begins doing something she is good at:  She starts stretching and warming up.  She feels this will come in handy when the real festivities begin. 

Jamie stretches and does some light exercising for about 15 minutes then she hears a knock on the door.  Her heart almost stops as she looks at the clock.  It’s time.  She takes a deep breath and reminds herself that she is doing this for her sister.  She pulls her brown hair back into a tight ponytail and opens the door.  The giant is standing there with a sheepish smile.  “It’s time,” he says, and Jamie has to bite he lip to keep from laughing.  She nods and they begin walking down a dark corridor. 

The long hallway is cool and dank.  There is relatively little light, so Jamie has to walk so close to the giant that she fears she will bounce off him if he stops abruptly.  She actually does run into him when he stops at a door.  She starts to apologize, but he beats her to the punch, “I’m sorry, miss.”  He says almost like an impish child.  Jamie is too nervous to laugh now, though.  She simply replies, “It’s ok.”

The giant turns to her with his hand on the door handle, “If they get out of hand, I won’t let them hurt you.  They can be assholes sometimes,” he says with utmost sincerity.  Jamie looks up and simply says, “Thank you.”  She is sure he means it.  The giant nods then turns the handle.  Light pours into the recess and Jamie sees what may be her destiny.

Chapter 6

The interior of the warehouse is huge!  It has been stripped of all mechanical equipment and replaced with rows of seats along three sides.  Another few rows cover the fourth side and all face a central point.  It is toward this central point Jamie and the giant head.  A huge overhead light glares down on that point, but Jamie really can’t see what it is shining down on because all the seats are occupied.  She feels hundreds of eyes on her as she walks behind the giant.  There is no applause.  Nor is there any booing.  As a matter of fact, there are no sounds except for that of a hundred people breathing.  Their eyes gaze at her curiously.  She walks with her head down, not wanting to meet any of those eyes.  Jamie has to constantly remind herself this is for her sister.

They finally reach the outside of the central point of the room, and Jamie gets her first good look at it.  It looks like a horse pen surrounded by a wooden fence.  It isn’t very large….maybe 25 ft by 25 ft.  The floor is a hard wood washed very clean.  It looks like it was recently mopped.  Recently as in the last five minutes.  In the middle of that ring stands a young girl of maybe 18 or 19.  She is dressed almost exactly like me, except the oversized t-shirt she is wearing is black with a New Orleans Saints logo.  Her eyes look at me with curiosity…and maybe a little fear. 

Jamie forgets about the crowd for a few minutes and returns the blonde’s curious start.  How did she get here?  Is she like me?  Jamie ponders if this girl is any different than she was at 18.  Of course there are physical differences.  This girl is at least 5’7 and weighs probably around 130 lbs.  Jamie is close to that height at 5’6, and she weighs a healthy 120 lbs, thanks to all the running she did in prison. 

 Of course there was the age difference.  Jamie is at the most 15 years older than this girl, but Jamie is pretty sure she is in better shape.  However, there is no indication that will mean much in this situation.  It doesn’t hurt, but Jamie saw many fights over the years she was in prison.  The fat girls usually did pretty well.  In the few fights Jamie was in, she lost badly to a heavier, out of shape girl, won another one, and probably would have lost the third if officers hadn’t shown up. 

However, this isn’t prison, and this girl looks like she is about to jump out of her skin.

“Welcome ladies.”

I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear the familiar voice and it snaps me back to reality.  I start at my boss, Phillip, who is standing between the other girl and me.  He is looking back and forth at both of us, and he has a warm smile on his face. 

“Ladies, I would like to introduce you to each other.”  He nods at the young blonde.  “This is Leslie.  Leslie is a waitress at a casino in Gulfport.  She’s been in a few catty fights back when she was in high school.  Nothing serious.”  He smiles and nods at Jamie.  “Now, this gentlemen is Jamie.  She is a manager at my restaurant in Biloxi.”  Jamie’s eyes cut to him.  A manager?  That’s new.  “She recently moved to Biloxi from,” Jamie cringes because now everyone will know she is a convicted felon, “…the northern part of the state, near Memphis.”  Jamie visibly relaxes a little.  “She’s a little older than Leslie, and she has been in more than one fight.”  He steps back leaving Jamie and Leslie facing each other and says, “Now ladies, please shake hands and good luck.”

Jamie and Leslie look at one another with the same curiosity they have had since their eyes first met.  They shake hands, but Leslie pulls her back a little quickly.  She is scared to death.  Jamie thinks she can use this to her advantage.  Or maybe it may make all the difference for Leslie. 

“The rules are simple, ladies,” Phillip says from the outside of the ring.  “Fight until one of you cannot continue.  We have already discussed the rewards.  There is a lot to be gained for the one who earns it.”  A quick glimpse of his face shows a wolfish smile, “You may now begin.”

Chapter 7

Jamie watches as her opponent steps back and removes her black Saints t-shirt.  Underneath she is wearing a red bikini with American flags that she obviously bought at Wal Mart.  Jamie knows it came from Wal Mart because she almost bought an identical one.  Jamie is now glad she opted for a black one with white hibiscus prints.  The girls simultaneously kick off their flip-flops.  Jamie feels the cold, hard wood under her feet…the swabbing of the floor still evident under her bare feet.  The odor of a strong, industrial cleaner hangs in the air.  Jamie watches Leslie closely and sees that the girl looks like she might bolt and run if she says so much as, “Boo!”  Leslie is a real beauty, but she has evidently had a rough life.  That much is evident from the multiple cuts up and down her forearms.  She has either tried to kill herself a few times, or she was/is a cutter.  Multiple tattoos cover her upper arms and her shoulders.  There’s even a tribal thing imprinted on her upper left arm.  A pretty black rose is prominently displayed on her right breast.  Her stomach shows slight evidence of stretch marks.  Seems Leslie might be a mommy.  Jamie saw enough stretch marks, living with inmates, to know a mommy when she saw one.  However, the blonde isn’t as soft as she first appeared.  Her arms are toned from long nights of carrying drink trays to intoxicated assholes at the slot machines.  Her legs are lean and strong looking from all the walking she has done crossing the casino floor.  She probably has good balance from much practice keeping those drinks on her tray while gamers cheer wildly or cry desperately.  The ancient blisters on her feet tell the story of the long nights on her feet.  This girl has had a rough life.  Jamie thinks of her own sister.  Will she turn out like Leslie?  That is, if she survives her affliction.  A dark anger fills Jamie’s throat when she thinks of the unfairness that has befallen her sweet sister.  That anger turns to hatred for life in general.  A red, hot steam fills her mind just as Leslie’s first punch slams into her jaw.

Jamie’s head snaps violently to the right and she nearly goes down to one knee.  The crowd finally makes noise…erupting into cheers and derisive comments aimed at one...or both…of them.  Leslie tries to follow the opening punch with a follow up left jab, but walks straight into a flurry of punches and slaps. 

Jamie gets her balance and sees the second punch coming.  She keeps her head low and plows forward under the punch right into the blonde’s sternum.  Her fists pound out two fast punches that land right between the blonde’s smallish breasts causing her to backpedal.  Jamie keeps chasing her across the ring and finally against the rails.  The blonde hits the hard wooden fence with surprised yelp just as Jamie rifles a hard jab at her face.  The punch snaps the taller girl’s head back as if on a hinge, but she shows she still has some fight in her.  She is frightened after all, but as any dog owner will tell you, the most dangerous animals are the ones who are backed into a corner. 

A tiny drop of blood falls from the blonde’s lip as she shoves against Jamie and locks her arms around her opponent’s back like a boxer.  Jamie takes a few steps back, herself, then braces her feet and begins hammering short punches into Leslie’s sides.  Each blow brings a little grunt from the blonde’s lips that would be cute under any other circumstance.  In this one, though, they tell Jamie the punches hurt.  The blonde presses forward, though, pushing her smaller opponent backwards until Jamie stumbles over her own feet and crashes to the floor.  The blonde stumbles and falls on top of her. 

The two women then clench their arms around each other and roll back and forth across the hardwood floor.  The room echoes with thumps and bumps as their elbows, knees, hands, and heads make contact with the floor.  Jamie never thought Leslie would put up such a hard fight.  Maybe her prison attitude was carrying over even on the outside.  While incarcerated, life becomes a game of hunter and prey even for women.  It is possible to avoid this game, but it is very difficult.  For the most part, Jamie managed to stay on the sidelines.  However, it took a few well-timed punches and some vicious hair pulling.  In the end she walked out of prison with her head held high, and her dignity somewhat intact. 

The bigger girl braces her hands on the floor, and the rolling comes to a stop.  This is bad for Jamie because Leslie is straddling her foe.  The blonde begins to throw wild punches into the older woman’s head, chest, and shoulders.  Jamie brings her arms and hands up for defense, but many of the wild blows find their mark.  One right jab, in particular, rocks Jamie’s head back so hard that it thumps off the floor behind her, leaving her dazed.  Staring at the blonde as she keeps punching and punching, Jamie considers giving up.  This is getting painful!  However, she thinks of her sister and the desire to be with her becomes too great.  Phillip never said he wouldn’t help her if she lost this fight, but Jamie really doesn’t want to take that chance.  She has to get to her sister.  That has become the rallying cry of her life! 

Jamie’s feet slap the floor and she bucks her hips as hard as she can in an attempt to force the bigger girl off.  She becomes a constant blur of motion as she struggles to get from under the younger girl, even with punches raining down on her hands and arms.  Finally, she gets lucky when she strikes out with a wild slap.  The slap, itself, doesn’t find it’s mark, but her thumb catches Leslie in the eye.  The bigger blonde’s hands go to her face, and Jamie hammers a hard right into her foe’s unprotected tummy.  She simultaneously bucks her hips causing the bigger girl to lose her balance and tumble onto her side. 

Jamie comes up as fast as she can in a blur of hands and feet….punching and kicking at her stunned opponent.  The bigger girl squeals and tries to roll away, but Jamie grabs her bikini bottoms and pull as hard as she can.  The thin material rides up into the younger girl’s butt crack causing another squeal that, in turn, causes the audience to erupt in laughter.  This infuriates the humiliated Leslie and she drives her elbow back into Jamie’s breastbone with such force that it knocks the fast approaching brunette onto her butt. 

Jamie lands so hard that she fears her tailbone has chipped.  She rubs her chest and tries to catch her breath; all the while the big blonde is bearing down on her.  Leslie gets to her feet and walks deliberately forward.  One of her eyes has a dark ring forming under it, and her lower lip is puffy, but she isn’t bleeding any longer.  As she approaches the stunned older woman, Leslie raises her foot and stomps down on Jamie’s shin. 

“NNGGGGHHHHHHHGGHHHAAAAGGHHHH!!!!!”

Jamie’s scream reverberates around the room.  The audience is now sitting in stunned silence watching the spectacle in front of them.  From the time Jamie first laid eyes on the younger girl, Leslie hasn’t said a word.  Not one.  She starts talking now, however.

“You’re fucking dead you old bitch.”  Her voice would be sweet under normal circumstances.  An image of her taking a drink order flashes through Jamie’s shell-shocked mind.  “And what can I bring you?  We have Bud Light on tap, Michelob in a bottle….” 

The calmness in Leslie’s eyes as she makes one statement makes Jamie’s blood run cold.  It doesn’t help that as she’s talking, she is grabbing Jamie’s ponytail and yanking so hard that Jamie is forced to go onto all fours to keep her neck from snapping.  With her left hand wrapped in the ponytail, she can use it as a lever to guide her victim wherever she wants to go.  In this case, she twists so hard Jamie is forced to look down.  Her chin touches her chest.  Then Leslie draws her right back and begins slamming well-aimed punches into the back of Jamie’s head and neck…each one causing the brunette’s teeth to rattle. 

Jamie sags to the floor.  Her sister’s voice echoes in her head, and it seems to be getting farther and farther away.  Tears drip onto the hardwood floor.  Jamie senses her sister has slipped through her grasp.  She has no doubt she will be tossed to the wayside following this disaster.  Another punch sends her sprawling to the floor.  Dirt and grime stick to her sweaty body.  She can’t focus.  The pain has made her numb.  Leslie lets go of her hair and drops her knee into the small of Jamie’s back with such force she nearly loses control of her bladder!  “Nhhhhhh.”  She grunts weakly.  She lays on the floor with tears streaming down her cheeks.  She has failed.  She has failed her sister.  The one person in the world who depends on her, and Jamie has failed her. 

Leslie’s bare toes tickle Jamie’s cheek, smearing the tear.  “You done, bitch?”  She asks in her barmaid voice.  No response comes, so she pushes her toes into Jamie’s cheek, causing her mouth to open in a nasty grin.  “I asked you a question?  Are you done?”  Jamie’s eyes focus on the blonde’s toes.  She recently had a pedicure.  One of the things you become pretty good at in prison is judging foot size.  That way you know whom to befriend so you can get their boots when they leave.  Prison is complex and simple at the same time.  Leslie has pretty big feet…probably an 8…maybe 8 ½.  They are cute feet too.  That’s another thing one finds herself judging in prison:  feet.  Jamie has fond memories of the long, cold nights she spent locked in an 8x12 cell with her roommate…and part-time lover…Amanda.  Amanda was in for armed robbery.  She too made some very poor choices.  She too was young.  Amanda liked to run too.  She is probably still tackling the 10538 Trail.  Amanda had the smallest toes Jamie had ever seen on an adult.  The two of them spent many long, lonely nights caressing and massaging each other’s feet.  There are some memories from prison Jamie will look back upon with fondness. 

The ball of Leslie’s foot pushes on Jamie’s head again, “Answer me and I won’t hurt you anymore.”  Leslie’s voice now carries a hint of laughter.  Then her foot slams down between Jamie’s shoulders, driving her chest into the floor, knocking the wind from her again.  “I said answer me bitch!”  Leslie apparently has a cruel streak.

Thinking of prison brings back the memory of things Jamie wanted when she was finally granted her freedom.  All she wanted was a family.  As a matter of fact, that is all she has ever wanted.  In prison, Amanda was her family.  Out her, she has none.  Her sister is slipping from her grasp more and more each day.  She closes her eyes and the words come to her lips.  She is ready to give up.  But then she thinks of her sister lying in a New Orleans hospital, dying.  She has wanted nothing more than to see her.  Now she wants nothing more than to see her once.  Just give me one chance.

“What was that?”  Another kick slams into her shoulder blades.

“Ngggghhhh,” Jamie grunts, but her eyes pop open.  She hasn’t been angry since she was 18.  There is no reason to be angry when you are facing 15 years looking at cold, gray walls.  She did that to herself.  No reason to be angry then.  But she has a reason to be angry now.  She locks her eyes on those toes with the perfect pedicure.  Anger surges into her throat and grows hot as it washes into her face.  For the last 15 years, Jamie has had nothing to focus on except finding her family.  Now she has someone to focus on for the short term.  The one person who seems to be standing between her and the opportunity she has wished for over those last few years.  She focuses on those cute toes…so long and perfect.  They are painted a very cute shade of hot pink.  I guess the color is coral.  Then those toes seem to tense and they grip the floor.  Jamie times it for a second then pushes her hands against the floor and does a perfect pushup. 

Leslie’s foot comes down for another stomp, but she is still just starting the motion and the pushup catches her off guard.  She loses her balance as Jamie’s upward motion changes the plane of her foot.  When she tries to lower her leg, it lands on Jamie’s side.  The older woman is turning toward her and that makes Leslie get further off balance.  Then Jamie lashes out with a wild kick at Leslie’s balancing knee. 

“Aggghhhhh!”  The blonde screams, as her knee is suddenly hyper extended backwards.  The sole of Jamie’s foot pushing against the kneecap with such force, Leslie actually drops like a rock onto the hardwood floor, face first.  Her head thumps and she signs once and goes limp. 

The frustration, desire, and yes, the anger, of the last 15 years overwhelms Jamie.  She grabs the fallen girl’s head and slams her face first onto the hardwood floor so many times Jamie loses count.  Rolling her victim over, Jamie straddles her chest and pins her victim’s upper arms with her knees.  For the next minute and a half, she rains punches from every angle down on the barely conscious blonde until she stops moving.  Tiring of this, Jamie gets to her knees, but she grabs Leslie’s hair…pulling her onto her side.  As she stands, she forces the blonde to get to her knees.  Leslie obeys and hangs her head limply.  Her lips move as if she is trying to speak, but the words do not come.  Although still angry, Jamie looks at her boss.  He has a smile, but he says, “Finish her, Jamie.”

That simple sentence can mean so many different things, but Jamie only registers one:  End this now, or forget about ever finding your sister.  Jamie yanks the blonde’s head up and draws her right fist back.  As she rockets the punch at the beaten girl’s jaw, she drops to one knee to get even more force behind it.  A funny thing happens, though.  Leslie finally opens her mouth to speak…probably to ask for mercy…or at least that’s what Jamie later thinks.  However, her mouth opens at the wrong time. 

Jamie’s punch slams onto Leslie’s lower mandible with such force she can feel the crush of the bones.  She will never forget the look of shock and horror on the blonde’s face as she crumples to the floor unconscious with her lower jaw hanging at such an odd angle.  Jamie sits down heavily beside her victim, just staring….her unbelieving eyes staring at her handiwork with her own horror.  The room is so quiet she hears a strange hissing and feels something warm on her foot.  When she looks down, she gasps and shoves the beaten girl away from her with her feet…recoiling violently from the growing pool of urine.  The crowd actually laughs at this sight!  They think Jamie is making fun of her victim.  They couldn’t be farther from the truth.  She caused this.  For the second time in her life, Jamie is the source of someone’s misery.  Suicide looks like the most viable option. 

Chapter 8

The giant finally enters the pen and helps her to her feet.  He leads her down the long dark corridor to her dressing room.  She sits and stares at the walls of her new cell for at least an hour.  Tears flow down her face. 

A knock on the door brings her back to reality.  Wrapping a towel around herself, she lets Phillip into the room.

“You were a hit,” He says dispassionately.

 “H-How is s-she?” Jamie asks, her voice quivering. 

“She’ll survive.  That was quite a punch.” 

His blasé attitude infuriates Jamie.  “Please take me to my sister.”

“In good time.  Your next fight is a week from today.”

Jamie looks at him in shock.  “Next fight?  I’m not doing that again!” She states flatly.

For the first time in the short frame she has known him, Phillip frightens Jamie.  That tends to happen when someone grabs you by the throat and you nearly black out.  Phillip’s hand clamps down tightly.  “You made me a lot of money tonight.  That won’t change.  What would your parole officer think of your new career?”  The threat isn’t even implied.  If her parole officer found out about Leslie, she would spend the next ten years in prison. 

Phillip lets go of her throat with a shove.  As she staggers back, Phillip flips an envelope to her.  “I almost forget.  Here’s your pay.  Good night’s work.”  His sweet smile returns and it’s like the previous two minutes never happened.  “See you tomorrow.  Let Robbie know if you need medical attention.” 

With that, he is gone.  A glance in the envelope tells Jamie she just earned more money than she would make in three months at the restaurant.  What of that poor girl, though?

A warm shower takes care of many of the aches and pains of this night, but her mind keeps coming back to the Leslie and her jaw.  Hot tears sting her eyes when she opens her door.  “Robbie?”  The giant’s eyes move to her shyly when she says his name.  “Take me to the hospital.”  Without a word, Robbie complies.

Later that night, Jamie finds the room.  She spends the next 15 hours sitting with Leslie, holding her limp hand and whispering over and over, “I am so sorry.”  She didn’t believe she could ever run out of tears. 

Later the next day…after she finally nodded off…a grip on her hand wakens her.  She looks up into Leslie’s blue eyes and gets another squeeze of her hand.  The look in those blue eyes tells her she is forgiven.