Saturday, December 24, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Friday, December 2, 2011
My FCF Poll
Will any FCF'ers please vote in my celebrity poll. I guess the regulars in that forum aren't impressed unless the polls have fake celebrities with fake tits and botox.
http://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php/topic,18961.0.html
http://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php/topic,18961.0.html
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Yay!
Yay to Boundfighter for being my first disciple! Thanks for joining and you will always be number one here!!
J
xoxo
J
xoxo
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
The Solution
The businessmen who created The Arena are in a quandary. It seems some of their fighters are refusing to come back after some obviously bad mismatches. The Arena is in danger of losing some of its best young talent…and most beautiful combatants. The problem started after a 20 year old named Sierra was humiliated by a girl twice her size. Sierra did come back for another blind draw match, but she didn’t fare any better. She was beaten unconscious after a ten minute pounding from a 40 years old marathon runner. Rumors are that another of the prettiest girls who has fought in The Arena also isn’t planning on coming back. Brittany started her combat career against one of the most formidable girls…albeit one of the smaller ones…and has lost rather badly in two other matches since. The businessmen set The Arena up to be competitive, but they also wanted the most beautiful women they could find as combatants. Brittany and Sierra are two of the most gorgeous they have found. Losing them would be a definite blow.
Breaking their own rules, the businessmen decide to make a last ditch effort to convince these two girls to stay. They will double the payout and winner’s bonus for one match. They would appease the rest of their fighters by doing the same for two of the better wrestlers at a later date. The event would coincide with The Arena’s one-year anniversary. The businessmen also announce that they will raise the payout and winner’s bonuses for all the fighters following the event in hopes off keeping the ones they have and attracting more willing participants.
But first Brittany and Sierra would have to be convinced to return. The chairman of the board, himself, decided to contact the girls and coax them into coming back. Both were understandably reluctant, at first. Although they aren’t told whom they would fight, they both eventually agree to return after they were convinced their opponent would be a peer in age, size and experience. Both girls are naturally competitive, and neither really wants a goose egg in the wins column. Besides, both of them need the money, and the bigger payday and larger winner’s bonus sounds intriguing. They both announce they will fight, and a date and time are set.
The businessmen are all ecstatic over the decision. They understand they must have perennial winners and losers for The Arena to succeed. But they also understand they won’t get “jobbers” unless those are allowed to succeed on occasion. Giving up a little more money to the combatants won’t break them, and the larger winner’s bonuses might make for better fighting.
Like always on fight day, the combatants are picked up by a discreet vehicle and driven to the secret location. They enter the house through different entrances and are escorted to their dressing rooms. Both girls are apprehensive…they remember their past beatings. Neither wants to lose. Neither has tasted the thrill of victory, and both are thirsty for it.
Since she has been in fewer matches, Sierra is introduced into the combat area first. Sierra is a stunning 20 years old beauty with long, straight light brown hair with blond highlights pulled back in a ponytail. She stands 5’6” and weighs around 120 lbs. Her gorgeous sky blue eyes accentuate the face of an angel. She isn’t necessarily athletic, but she is in shape. She walks several miles each night before work and she lives a Vegan lifestyle. Her skin is smooth and pale. She has no tan to speak of because she works nights. Like the other two times she has fought in The Arena, Sierra reveals she will fight in bikini bottoms only. The red bottoms are the kind, which ties on each side, and they show off her long, lean thighs.
Brittany is introduced next. She is a lovely girl who also stands 5’6” but she carries about five more pounds than her opponent. The green-eyed doll is showing her playful side tonight by wearing her shoulder length chestnut hair in pigtails. The 21 year old was a cheerleader in high school and she still sports her athletic body and deep tan. She teaches gymnastics to keep in shape, and she is proud of her long, smooth, muscular stomach. She loves to show her flat belly and long shapely legs off when outside. Tonight she has chosen to fight topless as well. She will do so wearing only a lime green colored thong.
The “referee” (who doesn’t enforce rules…there are none in The Arena) calls the two girls to the center of the padded carpet floor and tells them to prepare for battle. Both have butterflies in their stomach, but neither wanted to opt out. The concept is intriguing. When asked, both said they were ready. The “referee” then gave the signal to begin.
Since neither has had much success…actually any success, they are a combined 0-5…they circle and eye each other cautiously. Neither wants to make an early mistake that could cost them the match. After a brief stand off, the two beauties lock up collar and elbow in the center of the room and struggle to gain control. Since they are so close in size and experience, neither girl can manage to gain the upper hand in this tie up. They grunt and push for a minute, then one decides she should take control.
Sierra releases her grip in the tie up and moves quickly to her right. She snares her opponent in a side headlock and twists her to the ground. Once down, Brittany begins bucking and writhing wildly in an attempt to throw Sierra off before she can really lock the hold in and force the issue. As Sierra tries to wrestle Brittany’s head under her right side, Brittany pushes her right hand under Sierra’s chin and pushes her head backwards. After a moment, the struggling Brittany uses this leverage…and her wild bucking…to slip out of Sierra’s grasp. Both girls quickly roll up onto their knees and lock up in another collar and elbow tie up. But instead of wasting time and energy, Sierra goes back on the offensive by slipping down under Brittany’s outstretched arms and wrapping her own arms around her foe’s chest. Sierra uses her momentum to force the pigtailed girl onto her back.
Brittany knows she can’t let Sierra get on top of her, so she wraps her legs around the brown haired girl's torso and forces her onto her side. Sierra is still gripping the former cheerleader’s upper chest and back, but Brittany is now squeezing the air out of her with her powerful legs. Sierra has to do something pretty quick, so she releases her hug and wraps both of her fists into Brittany’s pigtails and yanks backwards. Brittany yelps in pain and relaxes her legs enough for Sierra to slip out of the scissor hold. However, Sierra keeps her grip on Brittany’s hair and forces her onto her back. Once her opponent is flat on the floor, Sierra drives her knee hard into Brittany’s exposed belly.
Sierra’s blow knocks the wind out of Brittany’s lungs, and the chestnut haired girl tries to roll onto her side. But Sierra still has her fists wrapped in Brittany’s pigtails. She wrestles Brittany back onto her backside then straddles her. She plops her round butt right on Brittany’s bare chest. Sensing victory is at hand; Sierra begins telling Brittany how much she is going to enjoy her win. As Sierra talks to her, Brittany’s struggling becomes wilder and more frantic. She bucks her body, but she can’t thrust too much because of her rival’s grip on her hair. She writhes side-to-side trying to dislodge the sitting girl, but Sierra isn’t budging. Brittany’s struggling begins to subside and Sierra feels as if the match is hers. The chestnut haired beauty goes completely still. Sierra smiles and leans down to look into her opponent’s face. She doesn’t want to miss the look in Brittany’s eyes at the moment of submission.
Sierra asks Brittany if she is ready to give up. Brittany sighs; heaves with one mighty upward thrust of her chest and arms, raises her legs, and snares her feet and calves in front of Sierra’s face. The shocked Sierra releases the brunette’s pigtails and grabs at Brittany’s legs. But Brittany already has them locked, and with one downward thrust she forces her opponent off her. Brittany rolls away and stands up. Sierra isn’t hurt, but she is very surprised at her rival’s resilience. She too stands up, and they both glare at each other from a short distance while they catch their breaths.
After a short pause, the two girls stand up straight and walk toward each other. They walk into each other body to body. Their noses and breasts are mashed together. Both girls snake their arms around each other, lock wrists, and squeeze with all their might. Sweat is starting to glisten on their backs and their hands are starting to slip from perspiration. The only sound in the room is their harsh breathing and grunts of exertion…and occasionally sharp yelps of pain and even growls as they apply pressure. The match is now at a stalemate. It has become a test of wills, strength and endurance.
Both girls now appear at the point of exhaustion. The room is hot, and their sweaty bodies pressing together are creating enough heat to melt the polar ice cap. But neither is ready to give in. Even without the cash prizes and payouts, both girls know they will continue to fight in The Arena after tonight. Neither has felt more alive than they do right now. Even at the point of exhaustion, they know they love this feeling. There is no better feeling in the world than being in a physical contest with another woman. Even though neither has tasted victory, both know that when they do it will be the sweetest taste they will ever know. The struggling of their bodies against one another has given them a sensation they know they will come back over and over just to feel again. And if they win, they know they will momentarily be on top of the world. But, alas, one has to win, and one has to lose. Therefore, even at the point of exhaustion, the struggle to win becomes all they know.
The audience is sitting in rapt attention. Never before has their been a struggle this intense in this forum. Most of the audience members haven’t moved since this clench began…several haven’t breathed. No matter the outcome, the businessmen know this match has been a profound success.
The clench continues as sweaty body presses against sweaty body. Both girls are having trouble with their slippery grips and after what seems like an eternity Brittany loses hers. Sierra takes advantage and presses her foe so close to her that Brittany cannot relock her hands. But Sierra is tiring too. She knows that she isn’t squeezing hard enough to gain a submission. Sierra starts rocking her body and flings Brittany hard to the floor. She moves in to take advantage of the downed girl, but Brittany rolls away from her grasp. Sierra has the advantage because she is on her feet, but Brittany slides away on her butt whenever Sierra approaches her. One wrong move from one girl could cost her the fight. Sierra decides to try and outflank her opponent and get behind her. Her plan is to lock on a rear chokehold and finish her foe. She feigns right, but then changes direction and lunges back to her left. Brittany is caught off guard, and Sierra does get behind her. But before she can lock on her chokehold, Brittany half raises and pushes backwards into Sierra’s body. Sierra catches the full force of the lunging Brittany and is knocked off balance. As she falls backwards, Sierra doesn’t realize how close the wall is to her and she hits it full force…knocking the wind out of her and striking the back of her head. She collapses in a dazed heap on the floor.
An exhausted Brittany sees her foe strike the wall and she slowly moves in for the kill. Sierra knows she must clear the cobwebs out of her head or the match would soon be over. She shakes her head and the fog begins to lift, but not before she realizes that her head is being forced between Brittany’s thighs. The now standing Brittany, reaches her fallen opponent just as Sierra rose up on all fours. Brittany straddles her rival’s head and neck, grabs her flailing foe’s wrists and forces them behind her back in twin hammerlocks, and rolls onto her side bringing the trapped beauty down with her. Once on the floor, Brittany rolls onto her butt and locks her head scissors at the ankles.
Sierra squirms and struggles mightily, but her strength is quickly escaping her exhausted body. Brittany is squeezing her neck and head so hard that Sierra feels like her brain will soon pop like a pimple out the top of her head. There is a roaring in her ears that can only mean she is starting to black out. To add insult to injury, Brittany still has Sierra’s arms trapped behind her in twin hammerlocks. To increase Sierra’s discomfort, Brittany pulls each arm across each other to their farthest point. It feels to Sierra that her straining shoulders are being ripped apart. Even though it is now inevitable, Sierra holds on a little longer. But before she fades completely out, she whimpers her submission.
Brittany doesn’t hear the submission because she is concentrating so hard on causing enough pain to force her opponent to quit. She doesn’t realize she has won until the “referee” taps her on the shoulder. The victorious girl releases her victim and allows her to slump to the floor. Brittany stands and raises her hands. For the first time she can bask in the glory of victory in The Arena! The thrilled…but tired…girl soaks in the moment.
Sierra is completely defeated. She gave it her all against an evenly-matched opponent...and lost. But she isn't as heartbroken as she could be. She realizes how close she came to victory....one misstep cost her. She knows she can win without the mistakes. And she hopes she'll get a chance to prove that to herself soon.
Breaking their own rules, the businessmen decide to make a last ditch effort to convince these two girls to stay. They will double the payout and winner’s bonus for one match. They would appease the rest of their fighters by doing the same for two of the better wrestlers at a later date. The event would coincide with The Arena’s one-year anniversary. The businessmen also announce that they will raise the payout and winner’s bonuses for all the fighters following the event in hopes off keeping the ones they have and attracting more willing participants.
But first Brittany and Sierra would have to be convinced to return. The chairman of the board, himself, decided to contact the girls and coax them into coming back. Both were understandably reluctant, at first. Although they aren’t told whom they would fight, they both eventually agree to return after they were convinced their opponent would be a peer in age, size and experience. Both girls are naturally competitive, and neither really wants a goose egg in the wins column. Besides, both of them need the money, and the bigger payday and larger winner’s bonus sounds intriguing. They both announce they will fight, and a date and time are set.
The businessmen are all ecstatic over the decision. They understand they must have perennial winners and losers for The Arena to succeed. But they also understand they won’t get “jobbers” unless those are allowed to succeed on occasion. Giving up a little more money to the combatants won’t break them, and the larger winner’s bonuses might make for better fighting.
Like always on fight day, the combatants are picked up by a discreet vehicle and driven to the secret location. They enter the house through different entrances and are escorted to their dressing rooms. Both girls are apprehensive…they remember their past beatings. Neither wants to lose. Neither has tasted the thrill of victory, and both are thirsty for it.
Since she has been in fewer matches, Sierra is introduced into the combat area first. Sierra is a stunning 20 years old beauty with long, straight light brown hair with blond highlights pulled back in a ponytail. She stands 5’6” and weighs around 120 lbs. Her gorgeous sky blue eyes accentuate the face of an angel. She isn’t necessarily athletic, but she is in shape. She walks several miles each night before work and she lives a Vegan lifestyle. Her skin is smooth and pale. She has no tan to speak of because she works nights. Like the other two times she has fought in The Arena, Sierra reveals she will fight in bikini bottoms only. The red bottoms are the kind, which ties on each side, and they show off her long, lean thighs.
Brittany is introduced next. She is a lovely girl who also stands 5’6” but she carries about five more pounds than her opponent. The green-eyed doll is showing her playful side tonight by wearing her shoulder length chestnut hair in pigtails. The 21 year old was a cheerleader in high school and she still sports her athletic body and deep tan. She teaches gymnastics to keep in shape, and she is proud of her long, smooth, muscular stomach. She loves to show her flat belly and long shapely legs off when outside. Tonight she has chosen to fight topless as well. She will do so wearing only a lime green colored thong.
The “referee” (who doesn’t enforce rules…there are none in The Arena) calls the two girls to the center of the padded carpet floor and tells them to prepare for battle. Both have butterflies in their stomach, but neither wanted to opt out. The concept is intriguing. When asked, both said they were ready. The “referee” then gave the signal to begin.
Since neither has had much success…actually any success, they are a combined 0-5…they circle and eye each other cautiously. Neither wants to make an early mistake that could cost them the match. After a brief stand off, the two beauties lock up collar and elbow in the center of the room and struggle to gain control. Since they are so close in size and experience, neither girl can manage to gain the upper hand in this tie up. They grunt and push for a minute, then one decides she should take control.
Sierra releases her grip in the tie up and moves quickly to her right. She snares her opponent in a side headlock and twists her to the ground. Once down, Brittany begins bucking and writhing wildly in an attempt to throw Sierra off before she can really lock the hold in and force the issue. As Sierra tries to wrestle Brittany’s head under her right side, Brittany pushes her right hand under Sierra’s chin and pushes her head backwards. After a moment, the struggling Brittany uses this leverage…and her wild bucking…to slip out of Sierra’s grasp. Both girls quickly roll up onto their knees and lock up in another collar and elbow tie up. But instead of wasting time and energy, Sierra goes back on the offensive by slipping down under Brittany’s outstretched arms and wrapping her own arms around her foe’s chest. Sierra uses her momentum to force the pigtailed girl onto her back.
Brittany knows she can’t let Sierra get on top of her, so she wraps her legs around the brown haired girl's torso and forces her onto her side. Sierra is still gripping the former cheerleader’s upper chest and back, but Brittany is now squeezing the air out of her with her powerful legs. Sierra has to do something pretty quick, so she releases her hug and wraps both of her fists into Brittany’s pigtails and yanks backwards. Brittany yelps in pain and relaxes her legs enough for Sierra to slip out of the scissor hold. However, Sierra keeps her grip on Brittany’s hair and forces her onto her back. Once her opponent is flat on the floor, Sierra drives her knee hard into Brittany’s exposed belly.
Sierra’s blow knocks the wind out of Brittany’s lungs, and the chestnut haired girl tries to roll onto her side. But Sierra still has her fists wrapped in Brittany’s pigtails. She wrestles Brittany back onto her backside then straddles her. She plops her round butt right on Brittany’s bare chest. Sensing victory is at hand; Sierra begins telling Brittany how much she is going to enjoy her win. As Sierra talks to her, Brittany’s struggling becomes wilder and more frantic. She bucks her body, but she can’t thrust too much because of her rival’s grip on her hair. She writhes side-to-side trying to dislodge the sitting girl, but Sierra isn’t budging. Brittany’s struggling begins to subside and Sierra feels as if the match is hers. The chestnut haired beauty goes completely still. Sierra smiles and leans down to look into her opponent’s face. She doesn’t want to miss the look in Brittany’s eyes at the moment of submission.
Sierra asks Brittany if she is ready to give up. Brittany sighs; heaves with one mighty upward thrust of her chest and arms, raises her legs, and snares her feet and calves in front of Sierra’s face. The shocked Sierra releases the brunette’s pigtails and grabs at Brittany’s legs. But Brittany already has them locked, and with one downward thrust she forces her opponent off her. Brittany rolls away and stands up. Sierra isn’t hurt, but she is very surprised at her rival’s resilience. She too stands up, and they both glare at each other from a short distance while they catch their breaths.
After a short pause, the two girls stand up straight and walk toward each other. They walk into each other body to body. Their noses and breasts are mashed together. Both girls snake their arms around each other, lock wrists, and squeeze with all their might. Sweat is starting to glisten on their backs and their hands are starting to slip from perspiration. The only sound in the room is their harsh breathing and grunts of exertion…and occasionally sharp yelps of pain and even growls as they apply pressure. The match is now at a stalemate. It has become a test of wills, strength and endurance.
Both girls now appear at the point of exhaustion. The room is hot, and their sweaty bodies pressing together are creating enough heat to melt the polar ice cap. But neither is ready to give in. Even without the cash prizes and payouts, both girls know they will continue to fight in The Arena after tonight. Neither has felt more alive than they do right now. Even at the point of exhaustion, they know they love this feeling. There is no better feeling in the world than being in a physical contest with another woman. Even though neither has tasted victory, both know that when they do it will be the sweetest taste they will ever know. The struggling of their bodies against one another has given them a sensation they know they will come back over and over just to feel again. And if they win, they know they will momentarily be on top of the world. But, alas, one has to win, and one has to lose. Therefore, even at the point of exhaustion, the struggle to win becomes all they know.
The audience is sitting in rapt attention. Never before has their been a struggle this intense in this forum. Most of the audience members haven’t moved since this clench began…several haven’t breathed. No matter the outcome, the businessmen know this match has been a profound success.
The clench continues as sweaty body presses against sweaty body. Both girls are having trouble with their slippery grips and after what seems like an eternity Brittany loses hers. Sierra takes advantage and presses her foe so close to her that Brittany cannot relock her hands. But Sierra is tiring too. She knows that she isn’t squeezing hard enough to gain a submission. Sierra starts rocking her body and flings Brittany hard to the floor. She moves in to take advantage of the downed girl, but Brittany rolls away from her grasp. Sierra has the advantage because she is on her feet, but Brittany slides away on her butt whenever Sierra approaches her. One wrong move from one girl could cost her the fight. Sierra decides to try and outflank her opponent and get behind her. Her plan is to lock on a rear chokehold and finish her foe. She feigns right, but then changes direction and lunges back to her left. Brittany is caught off guard, and Sierra does get behind her. But before she can lock on her chokehold, Brittany half raises and pushes backwards into Sierra’s body. Sierra catches the full force of the lunging Brittany and is knocked off balance. As she falls backwards, Sierra doesn’t realize how close the wall is to her and she hits it full force…knocking the wind out of her and striking the back of her head. She collapses in a dazed heap on the floor.
An exhausted Brittany sees her foe strike the wall and she slowly moves in for the kill. Sierra knows she must clear the cobwebs out of her head or the match would soon be over. She shakes her head and the fog begins to lift, but not before she realizes that her head is being forced between Brittany’s thighs. The now standing Brittany, reaches her fallen opponent just as Sierra rose up on all fours. Brittany straddles her rival’s head and neck, grabs her flailing foe’s wrists and forces them behind her back in twin hammerlocks, and rolls onto her side bringing the trapped beauty down with her. Once on the floor, Brittany rolls onto her butt and locks her head scissors at the ankles.
Sierra squirms and struggles mightily, but her strength is quickly escaping her exhausted body. Brittany is squeezing her neck and head so hard that Sierra feels like her brain will soon pop like a pimple out the top of her head. There is a roaring in her ears that can only mean she is starting to black out. To add insult to injury, Brittany still has Sierra’s arms trapped behind her in twin hammerlocks. To increase Sierra’s discomfort, Brittany pulls each arm across each other to their farthest point. It feels to Sierra that her straining shoulders are being ripped apart. Even though it is now inevitable, Sierra holds on a little longer. But before she fades completely out, she whimpers her submission.
Brittany doesn’t hear the submission because she is concentrating so hard on causing enough pain to force her opponent to quit. She doesn’t realize she has won until the “referee” taps her on the shoulder. The victorious girl releases her victim and allows her to slump to the floor. Brittany stands and raises her hands. For the first time she can bask in the glory of victory in The Arena! The thrilled…but tired…girl soaks in the moment.
Sierra is completely defeated. She gave it her all against an evenly-matched opponent...and lost. But she isn't as heartbroken as she could be. She realizes how close she came to victory....one misstep cost her. She knows she can win without the mistakes. And she hopes she'll get a chance to prove that to herself soon.
The Bonus
Kerry couldn’t believe her luck! She got her third opportunity in three weeks to fight in The Arena. She was surprised because of the growing popularity of being paid to catfight. She had heard some girls complain that they have waited two or more months for chances, but this was her third time! She knew she could turn down the offer, but she is eager for another chance. She has mixed feelings about her first two matches. She knows she is a better than she has shown, she just needs a chance to prove it. She lost her first match to a chubby 34 year old mother of three with huge boobs and stretch marks from carrying the three little bastards. And the match wasn’t even close! The milk cow used her massive cleavage to smother a submission from Kerry. But her second match had been much different. Kerry completely demolished a 110 lbs secretary. The poor woman was unconscious three minutes after the match started! Kerry wanted her first win so badly that she attacked her 24 year old victim in a blind rage and battered her defenseless body to the floor. The “referee” stopped the match when the secretary blacked out.
The 19 year old Kerry is a big girl. Not fat, but big. Her father was an All American offensive lineman in college…he would have gone pro except for a blown out knee in his final college game. Her mother threw shot put and discus on her college track and field team. So Kerry came from a big, athletic gene pool. While shorter than her mother, she was just as stout. She carried 240 lbs on a 5’7” frame. She was compact and sturdy. And she was incredibly strong! But she really didn’t want to be big. Secretly she wished she were half her current size. But nature has always worked against her. Diets fail and trips to the gym just make her stronger….not smaller. She envies smaller, athletic girls. Her envy borders on hatred. This is one reason she wants to fight in The Arena. She dreams of opportunities against what she calls, “Barbie Dolls.”
Kerry isn’t ugly. Quite the opposite. She has a very pretty face. Her hair stylist cuts her blond hair short and styles it to frame Kerry’s cute face. Kerry is also somewhat popular with the boys. She gained this popularity because she is willing to try things the “Barbie Dolls” won’t. Kerry is up for anything to keep the boys’ attention.
Sierra is a little surprised…and nervous…after getting her first phone call. She needs the money earned from fighting in The Arena badly, but this will be the first fight of her young life. Now she has been in hair pulling slap fights with other girls and she has wrestled with her brother and her boyfriend, but she has never been in a no holds barred catfight. She is anxious yet apprehensive. She hopes her opponent is someone she can beat….or someone she won’t get killed by.
Sierra is a shy, quiet girl. She grew up in a deeply religious family. She went through a short rebellious period where she became hooked on cocaine at a young age. But she is proud to say that she has been drug free for two years. That’s quite an accomplishment for a 20 year old as beautiful as she is. Sierra has been graced with natural beauty. Her long, flowing light brown hair with blond highlights accents the face of an angel. Her pouty lips and big blue eyes just make men melt on first sight. She has a sprinkle of freckles across her pert little nose, which darken whenever she smiles. And what a smile she has! All she has to do is flash it once and men will lay empires at her feet!
Although she isn’t an athlete, Sierra has a firm 5’6” 120 lbs body. She keeps in shape by walking and with a vegan lifestyle. She has no tan to speak of because she and her boyfriend both work midnight shift. But her skin isn’t pasty…just pale from little exposure to the sun.
As the day of her first match arrives, Sierra is a bundle of nerves! She has huge butterflies in her stomach and she is worried about her opponent. She hates that she won’t find out until moments before the match. With her luck, it’ll probably be her cousin Joannie…who hates her guts. Joannie would kill her for sure.
The night of the fight finally arrives, and Kerry and Sierra arrive at The Arena in separate chauffeured cars at approximately the same. But they are led to their dressing rooms through different entrances. They won’t see each other before they enter the combat area.
The girls are introduced one after the other. Since she’s new, Sierra is brought in first. Next Kerry is introduced. The girls see each other for the first time. The sight of Kerry’s bulk sends icicles down Sierra’s spine! She had hoped for a girl closer to her own size, but now she has to fight this behemoth! She thinks about walking out…but then she thinks she needs the money. She looks over her opponent and begins to think, “I’m faster than her. If I can stay away and use my speed maybe I can win….”
Kerry looks relieved upon seeing Sierra. She begins to think of how she can redeem her previous performances and have a little fun in the process. She knows she will win, but how badly does she want to hurt this girl? She looks the “Barbie Doll” over from head to toe…and thinks, “Pretty badly.”
The girls are called to the center of the room and told to prepare for battle. Sierra removes the t-shirt she wore into The Arena and reveals she will fight topless (she’d heard how hot the room gets) with dark blue bikini bottoms. The sight of the topless “Barbie Doll” infuriates Kerry! “How dare this little slut fight her topless! She’s only doing it for attention! She’ll pay dearly for this….” Kerry removes her t-shirt to reveal that she will do battle in a pair of black bikini bottoms and a form-fitting white “wife-beater” tank top, which has been scissored off just below her breasts.
The “referee” asks the girls if they’re ready, then she gives the signal to begin. One look at Sierra’s face, and Kerry knows what her first move will be. Sierra’s plan is to feign quickly to Kerry’s right, forcing the bigger girl to move that way, then she will attack from the left when Kerry’s weight is moving away from her. Kerry can see this as if she can read Sierra’s mind. Sierra makes her feign to the right but Kerry moves left. When Sierra moves back to the left, she is met by a massive knee in the midsection. The impact of the knee is magnified by her own forward momentum. It feels like she’s been hit by a truck!
Upon impact with Kerry’s knee, the air explodes from Sierra and she bends nearly in half. Kerry takes full advantage and grabs the smaller girl’s ponytail…twists her hair around her fist…and grabs her bikini bottom with her other hand and twists. Sierra feels as if her ponytail is being ripped from her head and her bikini bottoms are being twisted and shoved up her anus and vagina! But she is still moving forward from her initial lunge, and Kerry uses this momentum to drive her opponent face first into the floor…using her hair and bottoms as handles.
The big girl releases Sierra after driving her into the ground and surveys the damage. Sierra is stunned but not hurt too badly. Yet. Kerry reaches down and grabs the smaller girl by her ponytail again and hauls her to her feet. Sierra is hurting, and getting scared. She knows she has to fight back, but how? She punches the bigger girl in the stomach as hard as she can. But Kerry doesn’t seem phased by it. Instead, Kerry uses her foe’s ponytail as a handle once again and twists her around to where she is standing behind the brunette beauty. Kerry releases Sierra’s hair and snakes her arms under her shoulders. She wrenches upward and clasps her hands behind Sierra’s neck and pushes her chin toward her chest. Kerry then starts swaying her victim back and forth, using this momentum to increase the pressure on Sierra’s neck. After a few minutes of this, Kerry pushes all her weight onto the smaller girls back and forces her to her knees. She keeps Sierra’s head in the full nelson, but she forces her face into the carpet while still on her knees.
Sierra can’t believe how she is being manhandled! The bigger girl is tossing her around like a rag doll! But she knows she can’t quit. She has to find a way to win. She needs the money. But how?
After a few minutes Kerry tires of this. She knows she’s going to win, so she may as well take a few minutes to enjoy what her adversary has to offer. She thinks to herself, “Let’s see what Barbie’s got!” Kerry releases her foe, stands up and backs away from her.
Sierra can’t believe her luck! Maybe the bigger girl is tiring out already! She thinks, “She is fat! If I can stay away from her grasp maybe I can win!” Failing to learn the lessons of her first failed assault, Sierra regains her composure and charges her opponent again.
This time Sierra charges straight at Kerry. She drives her shoulder into the bigger girl’s abdomen with all the force she can muster. Kerry isn’t phased. All she does is step back two paces and let’s the brunette bounce off. Sierra looks on in stunned disbelief at the smiling Kerry. Still smiling, Kerry says, “Is that all you’ve got little girl?” She then slaps Sierra hard across the face with her open palm. The blow nearly knocks Sierra off her feet.
This slap enrages Sierra! She regains her footing and throws a wild right cross that connects squarely with Kerry’s right cheek. The bigger girl is stunned by this blow, and she falls backwards onto her meaty butt. Sierra sees her opportunity to go on the offensive. She squares up and drives a kick…heel first…into the bigger girl’s chest. This blow knocks Kerry onto her back and forces the wind from her lungs. Sierra quickly leaps on the bigger girl….hoping to finish her quickly….and locks a side headlock on her. She puts all her weight on Kerry’s neck and head and pulls with all her might trying to force a submission.
After a few minutes of this, Kerry is finally able to clear the cobwebs from her head. The blow to the head and the kick to the chest really hurt! But in no way could they alone finish her. She thinks, “The stupid little bitch shoulda hit me with a cinder block when she had the chance.” Kerry just simply muscles her way into a sitting position….while Sierra is busy tugging away at her head….and shoves the smaller girl off her.
Sierra is absolutely stunned at the ease in which Kerry escaped her headlock! “Did my punch and that kick not really phase this huge bitch?” Apprehension has been with Sierra since the start of the match, but for the first time real fear creeps into her stomach….
Kerry is pissed. That punch and that kick hurt! No more chances. “Now it’s time to hurt this little cunt!”
While Sierra is still wondering how Kerry recuperated from her attack so quickly, Kerry is moving toward her. The shocked Sierra can’t quite comprehend how such a big girl can move so quickly and be upon her so fast! Kerry rams her entire body into the smaller girl, who was on her knees to begin with, but is now flat on her back. The bigger girl drives ham sized fists deep into the shocked girl’s belly and chest. After a few well placed punches, Kerry hauls Sierra to her feet by her ponytail facing her. Kerry drives three well placed knees into Sierra’s battered tummy. Sierra tries to slump to the floor but Kerry refuses to let her fall. Instead, she slips her free hand between Sierra’s legs and lifts her off the ground to chest height. Kerry then slams the smaller girl’s body hard to the floor. Kerry lifts her foot and cruelly stomps the the brunette in the stomach and chest. After this, she pulls her foe back to her feet, lifts her back up a second time, and slams her down. Only this time, she drops to one knee and slams the smaller girl back first across her other…outstretched…knee.
Pain shoots up the small of Sierra’s back all the way to the top of her head and back down all the way to her toes! Kerry repeats this move two more times…slamming the beaten girl across her knee harder each time. After the third drop, Kerry cruelly keeps her foe bent across her knee while applying downward pressure to her chin with one hand and her legs with the other. Sierra begins to think Kerry is going to break her back…and she’s powerless to stop her.
After a few long moments, Kerry releases the smaller girl and rolls her off her knee. Sierra falls face down on the carpet and remains motionless. She is still conscious, but she’s hoping Kerry will think she blacked out, or the “referee” will stop the fight. No such luck….
Kerry reaches down and rolls her victim over. She raises up and surveys the havoc she has wrought. Not nearly enough damage. Yet. She raises up to full length then bends her knees, jumps up, and splashes all her weight down on the beaten girl. To Sierra, it feels like the roof has caved in on her. Kerry stands back up and viciously kicks her smashed victim in the belly and crotch.
For all effects and purposes, the match is over. But Kerry doesn’t feel like she’s done and the “referee” hasn’t stepped in yet. The beaten girl is curled up in a ball and sobbing like a spanked child. Kerry surveys the wrecked girl, and she suddenly sees the perfect way to end the match.
Kerry strips off her bikini bottoms then walks over to the beaten Sierra. She forces the beaten girl onto her back. She places one foot on each side of Sierra’s body and verbally orders the fallen girl to look at her. When she has Sierra’s undivided attention, she strips off her tank top. She lets Sierra stare up at her huge naked body for a few moments. “Let the little whore wonder what’s coming next.” Kerry smiles an evil smile at the brunette, and actually giggles when the harsh realization creeps into Sierra’s eyes. Kerry can see the dread starting to fill her pain-wracked face.
Kerry turns around to where she is facing Sierra's feet and slowly kneels and lets her bare butt fall over the beaten girl’s face. She uses her hands to keep Sierra’s chin square. She wants her to get the full effect…bare flesh on lips, musky aroma in her nose, stiff hair in her eyes….
Sierra can’t believe what’s happening to her! She cries and screams her surrender, but they are muffled by her adversary’s huge form descending on her! She suddenly can taste the sweat from her foe’s skin and the sharp tang of her womanhood. The scent is filling her nose when she suddenly can’t breathe! After a few minutes, Sierra fades from the wealth of tastes and aromas to a dark, nightmarish world where large feminine figure dressed in all black continually tortures her…..
The “referee” stops the match when Sierra’s writhing and struggling stop. This was the most vicious…and perfectly executed…facesit the businessmen who arrange these fights had seen. This earned the victorious Kerry an extra long round of applause. The businessmen also took up an extra collection to award Kerry to go along with her regular paycheck and winner’s bonus. Before leaving the arena, Kerry rewarded herself by stripping Sierra’s bikini bottoms for a souvenir.
Sierra woke up in her dressing room a little while later. She was given her paycheck, but before she was taken home she was asked if she would be willing to fight in The Arena again. She wanted to say no, but she needs the money too badly.
The 19 year old Kerry is a big girl. Not fat, but big. Her father was an All American offensive lineman in college…he would have gone pro except for a blown out knee in his final college game. Her mother threw shot put and discus on her college track and field team. So Kerry came from a big, athletic gene pool. While shorter than her mother, she was just as stout. She carried 240 lbs on a 5’7” frame. She was compact and sturdy. And she was incredibly strong! But she really didn’t want to be big. Secretly she wished she were half her current size. But nature has always worked against her. Diets fail and trips to the gym just make her stronger….not smaller. She envies smaller, athletic girls. Her envy borders on hatred. This is one reason she wants to fight in The Arena. She dreams of opportunities against what she calls, “Barbie Dolls.”
Kerry isn’t ugly. Quite the opposite. She has a very pretty face. Her hair stylist cuts her blond hair short and styles it to frame Kerry’s cute face. Kerry is also somewhat popular with the boys. She gained this popularity because she is willing to try things the “Barbie Dolls” won’t. Kerry is up for anything to keep the boys’ attention.
Sierra is a little surprised…and nervous…after getting her first phone call. She needs the money earned from fighting in The Arena badly, but this will be the first fight of her young life. Now she has been in hair pulling slap fights with other girls and she has wrestled with her brother and her boyfriend, but she has never been in a no holds barred catfight. She is anxious yet apprehensive. She hopes her opponent is someone she can beat….or someone she won’t get killed by.
Sierra is a shy, quiet girl. She grew up in a deeply religious family. She went through a short rebellious period where she became hooked on cocaine at a young age. But she is proud to say that she has been drug free for two years. That’s quite an accomplishment for a 20 year old as beautiful as she is. Sierra has been graced with natural beauty. Her long, flowing light brown hair with blond highlights accents the face of an angel. Her pouty lips and big blue eyes just make men melt on first sight. She has a sprinkle of freckles across her pert little nose, which darken whenever she smiles. And what a smile she has! All she has to do is flash it once and men will lay empires at her feet!
Although she isn’t an athlete, Sierra has a firm 5’6” 120 lbs body. She keeps in shape by walking and with a vegan lifestyle. She has no tan to speak of because she and her boyfriend both work midnight shift. But her skin isn’t pasty…just pale from little exposure to the sun.
As the day of her first match arrives, Sierra is a bundle of nerves! She has huge butterflies in her stomach and she is worried about her opponent. She hates that she won’t find out until moments before the match. With her luck, it’ll probably be her cousin Joannie…who hates her guts. Joannie would kill her for sure.
The night of the fight finally arrives, and Kerry and Sierra arrive at The Arena in separate chauffeured cars at approximately the same. But they are led to their dressing rooms through different entrances. They won’t see each other before they enter the combat area.
The girls are introduced one after the other. Since she’s new, Sierra is brought in first. Next Kerry is introduced. The girls see each other for the first time. The sight of Kerry’s bulk sends icicles down Sierra’s spine! She had hoped for a girl closer to her own size, but now she has to fight this behemoth! She thinks about walking out…but then she thinks she needs the money. She looks over her opponent and begins to think, “I’m faster than her. If I can stay away and use my speed maybe I can win….”
Kerry looks relieved upon seeing Sierra. She begins to think of how she can redeem her previous performances and have a little fun in the process. She knows she will win, but how badly does she want to hurt this girl? She looks the “Barbie Doll” over from head to toe…and thinks, “Pretty badly.”
The girls are called to the center of the room and told to prepare for battle. Sierra removes the t-shirt she wore into The Arena and reveals she will fight topless (she’d heard how hot the room gets) with dark blue bikini bottoms. The sight of the topless “Barbie Doll” infuriates Kerry! “How dare this little slut fight her topless! She’s only doing it for attention! She’ll pay dearly for this….” Kerry removes her t-shirt to reveal that she will do battle in a pair of black bikini bottoms and a form-fitting white “wife-beater” tank top, which has been scissored off just below her breasts.
The “referee” asks the girls if they’re ready, then she gives the signal to begin. One look at Sierra’s face, and Kerry knows what her first move will be. Sierra’s plan is to feign quickly to Kerry’s right, forcing the bigger girl to move that way, then she will attack from the left when Kerry’s weight is moving away from her. Kerry can see this as if she can read Sierra’s mind. Sierra makes her feign to the right but Kerry moves left. When Sierra moves back to the left, she is met by a massive knee in the midsection. The impact of the knee is magnified by her own forward momentum. It feels like she’s been hit by a truck!
Upon impact with Kerry’s knee, the air explodes from Sierra and she bends nearly in half. Kerry takes full advantage and grabs the smaller girl’s ponytail…twists her hair around her fist…and grabs her bikini bottom with her other hand and twists. Sierra feels as if her ponytail is being ripped from her head and her bikini bottoms are being twisted and shoved up her anus and vagina! But she is still moving forward from her initial lunge, and Kerry uses this momentum to drive her opponent face first into the floor…using her hair and bottoms as handles.
The big girl releases Sierra after driving her into the ground and surveys the damage. Sierra is stunned but not hurt too badly. Yet. Kerry reaches down and grabs the smaller girl by her ponytail again and hauls her to her feet. Sierra is hurting, and getting scared. She knows she has to fight back, but how? She punches the bigger girl in the stomach as hard as she can. But Kerry doesn’t seem phased by it. Instead, Kerry uses her foe’s ponytail as a handle once again and twists her around to where she is standing behind the brunette beauty. Kerry releases Sierra’s hair and snakes her arms under her shoulders. She wrenches upward and clasps her hands behind Sierra’s neck and pushes her chin toward her chest. Kerry then starts swaying her victim back and forth, using this momentum to increase the pressure on Sierra’s neck. After a few minutes of this, Kerry pushes all her weight onto the smaller girls back and forces her to her knees. She keeps Sierra’s head in the full nelson, but she forces her face into the carpet while still on her knees.
Sierra can’t believe how she is being manhandled! The bigger girl is tossing her around like a rag doll! But she knows she can’t quit. She has to find a way to win. She needs the money. But how?
After a few minutes Kerry tires of this. She knows she’s going to win, so she may as well take a few minutes to enjoy what her adversary has to offer. She thinks to herself, “Let’s see what Barbie’s got!” Kerry releases her foe, stands up and backs away from her.
Sierra can’t believe her luck! Maybe the bigger girl is tiring out already! She thinks, “She is fat! If I can stay away from her grasp maybe I can win!” Failing to learn the lessons of her first failed assault, Sierra regains her composure and charges her opponent again.
This time Sierra charges straight at Kerry. She drives her shoulder into the bigger girl’s abdomen with all the force she can muster. Kerry isn’t phased. All she does is step back two paces and let’s the brunette bounce off. Sierra looks on in stunned disbelief at the smiling Kerry. Still smiling, Kerry says, “Is that all you’ve got little girl?” She then slaps Sierra hard across the face with her open palm. The blow nearly knocks Sierra off her feet.
This slap enrages Sierra! She regains her footing and throws a wild right cross that connects squarely with Kerry’s right cheek. The bigger girl is stunned by this blow, and she falls backwards onto her meaty butt. Sierra sees her opportunity to go on the offensive. She squares up and drives a kick…heel first…into the bigger girl’s chest. This blow knocks Kerry onto her back and forces the wind from her lungs. Sierra quickly leaps on the bigger girl….hoping to finish her quickly….and locks a side headlock on her. She puts all her weight on Kerry’s neck and head and pulls with all her might trying to force a submission.
After a few minutes of this, Kerry is finally able to clear the cobwebs from her head. The blow to the head and the kick to the chest really hurt! But in no way could they alone finish her. She thinks, “The stupid little bitch shoulda hit me with a cinder block when she had the chance.” Kerry just simply muscles her way into a sitting position….while Sierra is busy tugging away at her head….and shoves the smaller girl off her.
Sierra is absolutely stunned at the ease in which Kerry escaped her headlock! “Did my punch and that kick not really phase this huge bitch?” Apprehension has been with Sierra since the start of the match, but for the first time real fear creeps into her stomach….
Kerry is pissed. That punch and that kick hurt! No more chances. “Now it’s time to hurt this little cunt!”
While Sierra is still wondering how Kerry recuperated from her attack so quickly, Kerry is moving toward her. The shocked Sierra can’t quite comprehend how such a big girl can move so quickly and be upon her so fast! Kerry rams her entire body into the smaller girl, who was on her knees to begin with, but is now flat on her back. The bigger girl drives ham sized fists deep into the shocked girl’s belly and chest. After a few well placed punches, Kerry hauls Sierra to her feet by her ponytail facing her. Kerry drives three well placed knees into Sierra’s battered tummy. Sierra tries to slump to the floor but Kerry refuses to let her fall. Instead, she slips her free hand between Sierra’s legs and lifts her off the ground to chest height. Kerry then slams the smaller girl’s body hard to the floor. Kerry lifts her foot and cruelly stomps the the brunette in the stomach and chest. After this, she pulls her foe back to her feet, lifts her back up a second time, and slams her down. Only this time, she drops to one knee and slams the smaller girl back first across her other…outstretched…knee.
Pain shoots up the small of Sierra’s back all the way to the top of her head and back down all the way to her toes! Kerry repeats this move two more times…slamming the beaten girl across her knee harder each time. After the third drop, Kerry cruelly keeps her foe bent across her knee while applying downward pressure to her chin with one hand and her legs with the other. Sierra begins to think Kerry is going to break her back…and she’s powerless to stop her.
After a few long moments, Kerry releases the smaller girl and rolls her off her knee. Sierra falls face down on the carpet and remains motionless. She is still conscious, but she’s hoping Kerry will think she blacked out, or the “referee” will stop the fight. No such luck….
Kerry reaches down and rolls her victim over. She raises up and surveys the havoc she has wrought. Not nearly enough damage. Yet. She raises up to full length then bends her knees, jumps up, and splashes all her weight down on the beaten girl. To Sierra, it feels like the roof has caved in on her. Kerry stands back up and viciously kicks her smashed victim in the belly and crotch.
For all effects and purposes, the match is over. But Kerry doesn’t feel like she’s done and the “referee” hasn’t stepped in yet. The beaten girl is curled up in a ball and sobbing like a spanked child. Kerry surveys the wrecked girl, and she suddenly sees the perfect way to end the match.
Kerry strips off her bikini bottoms then walks over to the beaten Sierra. She forces the beaten girl onto her back. She places one foot on each side of Sierra’s body and verbally orders the fallen girl to look at her. When she has Sierra’s undivided attention, she strips off her tank top. She lets Sierra stare up at her huge naked body for a few moments. “Let the little whore wonder what’s coming next.” Kerry smiles an evil smile at the brunette, and actually giggles when the harsh realization creeps into Sierra’s eyes. Kerry can see the dread starting to fill her pain-wracked face.
Kerry turns around to where she is facing Sierra's feet and slowly kneels and lets her bare butt fall over the beaten girl’s face. She uses her hands to keep Sierra’s chin square. She wants her to get the full effect…bare flesh on lips, musky aroma in her nose, stiff hair in her eyes….
Sierra can’t believe what’s happening to her! She cries and screams her surrender, but they are muffled by her adversary’s huge form descending on her! She suddenly can taste the sweat from her foe’s skin and the sharp tang of her womanhood. The scent is filling her nose when she suddenly can’t breathe! After a few minutes, Sierra fades from the wealth of tastes and aromas to a dark, nightmarish world where large feminine figure dressed in all black continually tortures her…..
The “referee” stops the match when Sierra’s writhing and struggling stop. This was the most vicious…and perfectly executed…facesit the businessmen who arrange these fights had seen. This earned the victorious Kerry an extra long round of applause. The businessmen also took up an extra collection to award Kerry to go along with her regular paycheck and winner’s bonus. Before leaving the arena, Kerry rewarded herself by stripping Sierra’s bikini bottoms for a souvenir.
Sierra woke up in her dressing room a little while later. She was given her paycheck, but before she was taken home she was asked if she would be willing to fight in The Arena again. She wanted to say no, but she needs the money too badly.
The Arena
The two girls facing each other had never met even though they grew up in the same small town. Although they shared a community, they were from separate worlds. Paige grew up on the rough side of town. Brittany was from the middle class. Even though the two girls had different ideas of pleasure and achievement, a set of circumstances brought them together on this evening for a taste of a shared passion. Tonight they were entering an arena to test each other in a contest of strength, wills, patience and endurance. Tonight they would see which was the better woman.
The test they would face was set up a small group of businessmen who wanted to quench their thirst for adventure while satisfying a desire they all shared. They loved to see women pitted against each other in physical combat. Not just wrestling or boxing, but sometimes brutal catfights to the finish. At the end of each fight, they wanted a clear winner. The businessmen would discreetly recruit girls ranging in age from 18 to 50 for these fights. They paid the girls well to perform, and they offered incredible incentives for the winners. Some local women have made fairly good livings for themselves...and their families in some situations...while others have given it a shot to help pay bills, earn money for the Holidays or create a little extra income. Some did it because they are athletic and enjoy physical toil along with the woman-against-woman competition. A few even like doing it because they enjoy hurting other girls. The winner's purse always proved to be a great method of stimulating the fighting instincts of even the meekest women.
The fights are held in the converted basement of one of the businessmen. The basement sat under a house just outside of town on a large, gated estate. It could not be seen from the road, therefore, events could be ensured of privacy. Matches take place in a large, open room, called The Arena. The room was fitted with fixed padded floors. The walls were white-washed drywall. There was a large alcove where the spectators gathered to enjoy the fights. There were four rooms off a small hallway behind the spectators. These rooms was where the girls would prepare for battle.
The rules of each fight were simple....fight until one woman submits or can no longer continue. A "referee" monitors each fight although he...or she...isn't there to enforce rules. The referee's job is to listen for admissions of surrender, to determine if one girl can no longer defend herself or to keep a watchful eye for injuries. Attire for the fights was left up to the individual fighter, but the businessmen encouraged as little as possible be worn. The girls usually complied because the basement was kept fairly warm. One strict rule was that the combatants had to fight on bare feet.
The girls were picked for matches from a blind draw. When the names were drawn, the girls were contacted via cell phone and given one day's notice to accept. There was no penalty for not accepting...the businessmen understood other obligations (happy fighters were dedicated fighters). Another name was simply drawn. The combatants never know who their opponent will be until they walk into the arena. This led to some very interesting match-ups. Sometimes 45 year old women would be fighting 19 year old girls. Heavyweights could be paired against petite girls. Beginners may go against other beginners, or they could have to fight wily veterans. There have even been some instances where sister would fight sister or cousin would be pitted against cousin. On one occasion a mother-daughter match took place. But overall, the blind draw had a way of evening out the matches. There was a system in place where one fighter could challenge another. But an issued challenge had to be approved by the businessmen first, and the challenged party had to agree to the fight.
Tonight's fight was a blind draw. The combatants arrived in discreet vehicles an hour prior to match-time and were quietly ushered into their dressing rooms. Great care was taken to ensure the girls didn't see each other before they were set to square off. When the time arrived, the first girl was led into room and introduced.
Brittany enters the arena first. She is a beautiful 21 year old with long straight chestnut hair pulled back in a pony tail and striking emerald green eyes. She stands approximately 5'6" and weighs around 125. She has perky c-cup breasts and the lithe, tight, tanned, athletic body of a cheerleader. Her most prominent physical features are her taut belly and her long toned legs. Brittany removes the t-shirt she wore into the arena and reveals that she will do battle in a pair of maroon colored bikini bottoms. She has decided to fight topless, which comes as a little bit of a shock because this is her first match ever. This pleasant little surprise only shows that Brittany feels comfortable with her body and she doesn't mind showing if off.
The second girl is then introduced and enters the combat area. Paige is a smallish girl of 19 with two-toned platinum blond and midnight black hair. She has big dark blue eyes. She wears her curly hair down to her shoulders. She only stands around 5'2" and she weighs about 105 lbs. Paige has a very pale complexion and she almost appears sickly. She has had a very rough life and many suspect she is a drug user. She removes the t-shirt she wore into the room and reveals that she too will fight in bikini bottoms only. The black bottoms contrast greatly with the pasty whiteness of her skin. The paleness is offset by a brightly colored tattoo stretching across the small of her back. Her small breasts protrude out from a smooth torso. Her best attributes are her flat belly and a smirk...almost a defiant sneer on her lips (which she has worn on her face since she entered the arena and first saw her opponent). Paige never takes her hard blue eyes from her adversary during the pre-match warm-ups. Paige has fought in the arena before. This will be her third contest. Both of her previous matches were victories. She is confident this will be her third. In those first two fights, Paige has earned a little bit of a reputation for being vicious.
After warm-ups the two girls are called to the middle of the arena. Once there they size each other up and try to psyche each other out. The signal is given to begin and Paige launches herself at her opponent with blazing speed! She rams her body into Brittany and knocks the taller girl backward...butt first...to the ground with a near perfect football tackle! The smaller girl then punches her right hand...fingers first...deep into the exposed navel of her enemy. Brittany yelps in shocked pain and tries to push her tormentor away, but Paige punches her fingers into her foe's belly a second time. As she does this, Paige thrusts her left shoulder into the shocked girl's chin and knocks her flat on her back.
Paige senses an easy victory and moves in for the quick kill by straddling her adversary's midsection. She slaps her fallen foe hard across the cheek with her right hand and grabs Brittany's ponytail with her left. She yanks her opponent up into a half sitting position and punches her in the right breast. Paige then wraps her right arm around the back of Brittany's neck, forces her foe's chin to her chest, and pushes her head toward her belly in a reverse headlock.
As Paige tightens her grip, Brittany feels her strength quickly ebbing. She knows that if she doesn't retaliate...and fast...she will suffer a humiliating defeat. Brittany is certain she is stronger than Paige, but she cannot believe how fast the smaller girl is! She also is stunned by the sudden brutality of Paige's attacks! While Paige cranks her neck forward, Brittany begins slowly pulling her feet up under her knees. Paige seems to be content with punishing her foe in this hold for a while, and she doesn't notice Brittany bending her legs until the bigger girl already has her feet braced and is pushing upward. Paige was certain the match was almost over, but she is a little shocked when the bucking Brittany pushes her off and wrestles away from her grip!
The two girls roll apart and rise to their knees facing each other. Brittany appears winded and Paige has a bewildered look on her face. Both girls' bodies are glistening with sweat in the warm room. Both are flush from the skin-on-skin contact between their bodies. Paige is the first to move. She launches herself at her foe hoping for another surprise attack...much like how she opened the match. But this time Brittany is ready....she rolls to her left and kicks out with her right leg just as Paige lunges. The sole of Brittany's right foot connects with a solid blow to Paige's exposed midsection. The impact is magnified because of Paige's forward momentum. Paige lands on her side, clutching her aching tummy. Brittany sees her opportunity to go on the offensive!
Brittany reaches out and grabs a big handfuls of Paige's hair and pulls her adversary to her feet. Brittany then drives a knee into the small of Paige's back causing the smaller girl to bend backwards. Brittany then yanks Paige down by her hair hard onto her back...knocking the wind from the smaller girl. She releases her grip on Paige's hair and straddles her the fallen girl's chest. Brittany starts choking the pale girl with both hands. After a few moments, gasps and spit bubbles form around Paige's mouth as she is being throttled by the taller girl. She can feel herself starting to fade out and she knows she will have to pull off a near miracle to win the match now. She feels she has only one option left or the match will soon end. She raises her hands and jabs the outstretched fingers of her right hand into Brittany's eyes and the fingers of her left hand into the brunette's windpipe.
With one brutally efficient move, Paige has freed herself from Brittany's death-grip and most likely determined the outcome of the match. When stricken with this devastating assault, Brittany releases her opponent's throat, flails to protect her own throat and eyes, and lets out a ghastly choking scream that will be long burned into the psyche of the audience. She rolls to one side and balls up into the fetal position.
Paige gets up slowly and looks down at her foe with total disdain. She quickly recovers from Brittany's attack and prepares to finish her off. Paige flashes a wicked smile as she watches her once proud...but now teary eyed...victim curl into the fetal position and gasp for air. She prods Brittany in the stomach with her toes several times. Brittany futilely slaps at Paige's foot, but to no avail. Paige uses her foot to roll the chestnut haired beauty onto her back. The aggressor raises her foot and viciously stomps Brittany hard in the belly with her right heel. Brittany gasps in agony and Paige raises her foot again and cruelly drives her heel down on the beaten girl's crotch. Brittany begins whimpering her surrender, but Paige isn't finished yet. She kneels over her victim, rolls her onto her stomach, she then twists both hands deep in the hair on the back of Brittany's scalp near the base of her neck. Paige then viciously pounds Brittany's forehead hard into the floor several times. The match is finally over.
The victorious Paige rises and places one bare foot between her victim's shoulder blades. She raises her hands high in the air in a classic victory pose while facing her audience. With one last show of disdain for her beaten foe, she wipes her brow and flicks her sweat on the fallen girl. She smiles radiantly as she strolls to her dressing room.
For Paige, victory doesn't necessarily mean a bigger cash prize. Victory means she got to hurt another girl.
The test they would face was set up a small group of businessmen who wanted to quench their thirst for adventure while satisfying a desire they all shared. They loved to see women pitted against each other in physical combat. Not just wrestling or boxing, but sometimes brutal catfights to the finish. At the end of each fight, they wanted a clear winner. The businessmen would discreetly recruit girls ranging in age from 18 to 50 for these fights. They paid the girls well to perform, and they offered incredible incentives for the winners. Some local women have made fairly good livings for themselves...and their families in some situations...while others have given it a shot to help pay bills, earn money for the Holidays or create a little extra income. Some did it because they are athletic and enjoy physical toil along with the woman-against-woman competition. A few even like doing it because they enjoy hurting other girls. The winner's purse always proved to be a great method of stimulating the fighting instincts of even the meekest women.
The fights are held in the converted basement of one of the businessmen. The basement sat under a house just outside of town on a large, gated estate. It could not be seen from the road, therefore, events could be ensured of privacy. Matches take place in a large, open room, called The Arena. The room was fitted with fixed padded floors. The walls were white-washed drywall. There was a large alcove where the spectators gathered to enjoy the fights. There were four rooms off a small hallway behind the spectators. These rooms was where the girls would prepare for battle.
The rules of each fight were simple....fight until one woman submits or can no longer continue. A "referee" monitors each fight although he...or she...isn't there to enforce rules. The referee's job is to listen for admissions of surrender, to determine if one girl can no longer defend herself or to keep a watchful eye for injuries. Attire for the fights was left up to the individual fighter, but the businessmen encouraged as little as possible be worn. The girls usually complied because the basement was kept fairly warm. One strict rule was that the combatants had to fight on bare feet.
The girls were picked for matches from a blind draw. When the names were drawn, the girls were contacted via cell phone and given one day's notice to accept. There was no penalty for not accepting...the businessmen understood other obligations (happy fighters were dedicated fighters). Another name was simply drawn. The combatants never know who their opponent will be until they walk into the arena. This led to some very interesting match-ups. Sometimes 45 year old women would be fighting 19 year old girls. Heavyweights could be paired against petite girls. Beginners may go against other beginners, or they could have to fight wily veterans. There have even been some instances where sister would fight sister or cousin would be pitted against cousin. On one occasion a mother-daughter match took place. But overall, the blind draw had a way of evening out the matches. There was a system in place where one fighter could challenge another. But an issued challenge had to be approved by the businessmen first, and the challenged party had to agree to the fight.
Tonight's fight was a blind draw. The combatants arrived in discreet vehicles an hour prior to match-time and were quietly ushered into their dressing rooms. Great care was taken to ensure the girls didn't see each other before they were set to square off. When the time arrived, the first girl was led into room and introduced.
Brittany enters the arena first. She is a beautiful 21 year old with long straight chestnut hair pulled back in a pony tail and striking emerald green eyes. She stands approximately 5'6" and weighs around 125. She has perky c-cup breasts and the lithe, tight, tanned, athletic body of a cheerleader. Her most prominent physical features are her taut belly and her long toned legs. Brittany removes the t-shirt she wore into the arena and reveals that she will do battle in a pair of maroon colored bikini bottoms. She has decided to fight topless, which comes as a little bit of a shock because this is her first match ever. This pleasant little surprise only shows that Brittany feels comfortable with her body and she doesn't mind showing if off.
The second girl is then introduced and enters the combat area. Paige is a smallish girl of 19 with two-toned platinum blond and midnight black hair. She has big dark blue eyes. She wears her curly hair down to her shoulders. She only stands around 5'2" and she weighs about 105 lbs. Paige has a very pale complexion and she almost appears sickly. She has had a very rough life and many suspect she is a drug user. She removes the t-shirt she wore into the room and reveals that she too will fight in bikini bottoms only. The black bottoms contrast greatly with the pasty whiteness of her skin. The paleness is offset by a brightly colored tattoo stretching across the small of her back. Her small breasts protrude out from a smooth torso. Her best attributes are her flat belly and a smirk...almost a defiant sneer on her lips (which she has worn on her face since she entered the arena and first saw her opponent). Paige never takes her hard blue eyes from her adversary during the pre-match warm-ups. Paige has fought in the arena before. This will be her third contest. Both of her previous matches were victories. She is confident this will be her third. In those first two fights, Paige has earned a little bit of a reputation for being vicious.
After warm-ups the two girls are called to the middle of the arena. Once there they size each other up and try to psyche each other out. The signal is given to begin and Paige launches herself at her opponent with blazing speed! She rams her body into Brittany and knocks the taller girl backward...butt first...to the ground with a near perfect football tackle! The smaller girl then punches her right hand...fingers first...deep into the exposed navel of her enemy. Brittany yelps in shocked pain and tries to push her tormentor away, but Paige punches her fingers into her foe's belly a second time. As she does this, Paige thrusts her left shoulder into the shocked girl's chin and knocks her flat on her back.
Paige senses an easy victory and moves in for the quick kill by straddling her adversary's midsection. She slaps her fallen foe hard across the cheek with her right hand and grabs Brittany's ponytail with her left. She yanks her opponent up into a half sitting position and punches her in the right breast. Paige then wraps her right arm around the back of Brittany's neck, forces her foe's chin to her chest, and pushes her head toward her belly in a reverse headlock.
As Paige tightens her grip, Brittany feels her strength quickly ebbing. She knows that if she doesn't retaliate...and fast...she will suffer a humiliating defeat. Brittany is certain she is stronger than Paige, but she cannot believe how fast the smaller girl is! She also is stunned by the sudden brutality of Paige's attacks! While Paige cranks her neck forward, Brittany begins slowly pulling her feet up under her knees. Paige seems to be content with punishing her foe in this hold for a while, and she doesn't notice Brittany bending her legs until the bigger girl already has her feet braced and is pushing upward. Paige was certain the match was almost over, but she is a little shocked when the bucking Brittany pushes her off and wrestles away from her grip!
The two girls roll apart and rise to their knees facing each other. Brittany appears winded and Paige has a bewildered look on her face. Both girls' bodies are glistening with sweat in the warm room. Both are flush from the skin-on-skin contact between their bodies. Paige is the first to move. She launches herself at her foe hoping for another surprise attack...much like how she opened the match. But this time Brittany is ready....she rolls to her left and kicks out with her right leg just as Paige lunges. The sole of Brittany's right foot connects with a solid blow to Paige's exposed midsection. The impact is magnified because of Paige's forward momentum. Paige lands on her side, clutching her aching tummy. Brittany sees her opportunity to go on the offensive!
Brittany reaches out and grabs a big handfuls of Paige's hair and pulls her adversary to her feet. Brittany then drives a knee into the small of Paige's back causing the smaller girl to bend backwards. Brittany then yanks Paige down by her hair hard onto her back...knocking the wind from the smaller girl. She releases her grip on Paige's hair and straddles her the fallen girl's chest. Brittany starts choking the pale girl with both hands. After a few moments, gasps and spit bubbles form around Paige's mouth as she is being throttled by the taller girl. She can feel herself starting to fade out and she knows she will have to pull off a near miracle to win the match now. She feels she has only one option left or the match will soon end. She raises her hands and jabs the outstretched fingers of her right hand into Brittany's eyes and the fingers of her left hand into the brunette's windpipe.
With one brutally efficient move, Paige has freed herself from Brittany's death-grip and most likely determined the outcome of the match. When stricken with this devastating assault, Brittany releases her opponent's throat, flails to protect her own throat and eyes, and lets out a ghastly choking scream that will be long burned into the psyche of the audience. She rolls to one side and balls up into the fetal position.
Paige gets up slowly and looks down at her foe with total disdain. She quickly recovers from Brittany's attack and prepares to finish her off. Paige flashes a wicked smile as she watches her once proud...but now teary eyed...victim curl into the fetal position and gasp for air. She prods Brittany in the stomach with her toes several times. Brittany futilely slaps at Paige's foot, but to no avail. Paige uses her foot to roll the chestnut haired beauty onto her back. The aggressor raises her foot and viciously stomps Brittany hard in the belly with her right heel. Brittany gasps in agony and Paige raises her foot again and cruelly drives her heel down on the beaten girl's crotch. Brittany begins whimpering her surrender, but Paige isn't finished yet. She kneels over her victim, rolls her onto her stomach, she then twists both hands deep in the hair on the back of Brittany's scalp near the base of her neck. Paige then viciously pounds Brittany's forehead hard into the floor several times. The match is finally over.
The victorious Paige rises and places one bare foot between her victim's shoulder blades. She raises her hands high in the air in a classic victory pose while facing her audience. With one last show of disdain for her beaten foe, she wipes her brow and flicks her sweat on the fallen girl. She smiles radiantly as she strolls to her dressing room.
For Paige, victory doesn't necessarily mean a bigger cash prize. Victory means she got to hurt another girl.
Walking The Kitten
Cast of Characters:
Me: The foolish little Cajun girl who, despite trying hard, can’t keep her mouth shut nor can she fight very well. Never backs down, but most often ends up being carried out.
Her: The arrogant, slutty and oh-so-fine English girl who loves to torment me. She can’t keep her mouth shut either, but she actually can back up her words. Of course, she is my nemesis, the lovely Gemma Rox
Him: He is still with me. He’s my long-suffering boyfriend who is now at the mercy of three domineering women. The poor sap’s name is still Joe.
Kitten: The beautiful, but slightly deranged, play pet of the vicious…but oh-so-hot…crime lord Boche. Joe rescued her from the clutches of the evil Emma Fox (Jenn Peccavi) and now she is a thorn in my side.
Anna the Marine: She wants to do nothing but tend her flowerbeds and win “Yard of the Month” awards. Of course we find a way to screw all that up for her.
Joanne the Jogger: The drop-dead-gorgeous blonde who luvs to wrestle. She makes the mistake of running down the same street we’re on. Of course we pay for her mistake.
Tina the Trooper: The bitchy cop who used to date Joe. She blames me for their breakup, and she really wants to make me pay. She even says that.
The days since we got back from our confinement at the hands of the mysterious Emma Fox (Jenn Peccavi) were starting to run together as the events of the past moved farther and farther away. The first few days following the escape were filled with apprehension. We had no idea what had become of Jenn Peccavi and her right hand man, Boche. We heard nothing from them and we quietly went back into our normal lives as the days passed. Well about as normal as they were going to be. While my injuries healed, Gemma moved in to ‘help.’ By ‘help,’ she meant help Joe with his perverted sexual fantasies. There wasn’t much I could do while I was on crutches. As soon as Joe would leave, she would torment me by pushing me down or tripping me any chance she got. I had stitches in my forehead where Peccavi hit me with a drinking glass. Gemma would take delight in rubbing salt into it whenever she walked by me. That bitch is just plain evil. But as bad as Gemma is, she isn’t the worst of my problems.
The worst of my problems is also one that torments Gemma (THAT is funny to me, btw). That problem is the Kitten we brought home for safekeeping. Now kittens are cute little creatures that are usually welcome in any home (except ours…I’m allergic) but this Kitten is different. How different, you ask? Well, the first thing you notice is that I call her Kitten instead of “a kitten.” This kitten is a 5’6” 120 lbs of beautiful sexuality. Only you don’t notice the beauty because she is totally nuts. She was Boche’s “pet Kitten.” He led her around on a leash! Before the others escaped Jenn Peccavi’s clutches, Boche made Joe agree to take care of Kitten and he would bring me home safely in exchange. Both kept their end of the bargain, but Boche disappeared after he dropped me on the sidewalk in front of our house. Now we’re stuck with a pet Kitten. We can’t put her on the street, because Boche is the biggest crime lord in the Southeastern US, Canada, and the Caribbean. The repercussions could be too great to comprehend.
Finally my cast came off and the wounds on my head and face healed. Gemma is still a bitch, and Kitten is still a weird little psycho. Joe tries his best to keep peace between us, but there’s only so much a man alone can do. Gemma and I have gotten into at least ten full-blown brawls since the cast came off and Kitten loves to jump in when we’re fighting. Most often she’ll ball up and cry when we turn our attention to her, but sometimes she comes out on top. Once she managed to tie Gemma and me to chairs in the kitchen until Joe came home. She left the house while we were bound and Joe followed the trail of destruction until he found her with two 18 year old girls pinned underneath her a couple streets over. It seems Kitten likes to flirt with boys washing their cars and beat up their girlfriends when they complain. Joe managed to convince the girls not to call the police because all the witnesses said the girls started the fight anyway.
As a result, Joe made Gemma and me agree to a truce. No more fighting until something could be done about Kitten. Gemma voted to have her spayed. I voted to have her euthanized. Joe overrode both us and made us promise to keep a closer eye on her.
So Gemma and I were stuck babysitting a Kitten. To make matters even worse, Kitten is one of those people who whines constantly. Nothing makes her happy. Fix her something to eat and it’s either too hot or too cold. If you’re watching something on tv, she doesn’t like it. The temperature is either too hot or too cold in the house. She likes the swimming pool behind the house. But the elderly man that lives next to us recently had a heart attack while mowing his backyard. Joe thinks his infarction had something to do with the fact that Kitten likes to sunbathe topless. Hell, Gemma and I like to do that too! But we don’t like to bounce on the diving board topless, but Kitten does. Now she’s complaining that she never gets any fresh air. I told Gemma that I was going to get a pistol and make a new vent for air in her forehead. Gemma stopped me before I reached the gun….probably not because she was worried about Kitten’s safety, but because she was worried that I’d shoot her next. She’s probably right.
But what to do? Kitten is still whining. Gemma is still being a bitch. If I don’t do something soon, I may just go walk in front of a bus. The thought of murdering Joe for bringing all these idiots into my house becomes a viable option. But I can’t do that, as big a jerk as he is, I do love him. I finally make a decision, and I pray that it won’t backfire on me. “Gemma, lets take Kitten for a walk. If she doesn’t shut up soon, I’m gonna shove her through a window.”
Gemma ponders this idea for a moment before replying, “You remember what happened the last time she got loose, right?”
I sigh, “Of course, but we can’t keep her in here all day. She’ll drive us crazy. We can keep a close eye on her. Hell, we’ll even put Boche’s collar on her and take a leash with us. What’s the worst that could happen?”
I regret that comment by the end of the day.
Gemma tells Kitten to get dressed for a walk. I knew we should have watched her, but we live and learn. Her walking attire consisted of a black halter-top bikini, cutoff blue jean shorts and tennis shoes without socks. I knew right then this was going to be a long afternoon. While Gemma and I looked at each other in amazement at the younger girl’s audacity, she put her hair in a ponytail, slipped on a pair of sunglasses and announced she was ready.
I nodded slightly to Gemma as the brunette walked toward the door, and Gemma fell in behind her. Just before Kitten could touch the doorknob, Gemma slid a heavy black leather choker collar around the taller girl’s throat and the fight was on.
“What the fuck!” Kitten exclaimed. “Let me go, you fucking bitch!”
While Gemma struggled to latch the collar, I wrapped my arms around Kitten so she couldn’t wrestle away. We almost tumbled to the floor, but Kitten eventually realized that Gemma and I were fighting her. She wasn’t helping one of us gang up on the other. After a brief struggle and a severe tongue lashing that would make a sailor proud, Kitten relented and allowed the collar to be latched. She relaxed even more and giggled that she would be “a good girl” if we let her walk on her own. At the first sign of trouble, though, the leash was snapping on.
Already breathing heavily from exertion, Gemma and I led the way from the house. We fell into a nice rhythm as we strolled down the street.
Except for the fact that Kitten was dressed like a whore, and Gemma is just a fucking bitch, I started to believe that maybe this was a good idea. The day was wonderful! This was one of those late autumn afternoons that made living in New Orleans bearable. The air was cool for the Deep South and there was a soft breeze blowing in off the Gulf rattling the palm fronds and there was a touch of salt in the air. There were storm clouds building far off toward Texas, but that wouldn’t be a problem until later tonight. Right now, it was just about perfect! Maybe a little fresh air and an invigorating walk would be good for all of us.
Even Kitten was behaving herself. She was enjoying her little stroll. She smiled at children when the passed and nodded to the adults….who looked away when they noticed her attire and the heavy choker collar. But she just smiled and eventually developed a bounce in her step that told Gemma and me that she was enjoying herself. Heck, even Gemma and I started a conversation that didn’t include the words “bitch, cunt, whore, slut, etc. She told me about her life in Wales and I told her about growing up in bayou country. We even shared a laugh. Before long, the miles started slipping away.
We rounded the corner and Kitten drew up sharply and said, “Wow!” Wondering what she saw, I looked ahead and saw a very well manicured yard complete with wonderful landscaping. It had some of the most beautiful flowers to be seen in suburban New Orleans. Kitten was completely in awe of the dazzling colors and the sheer beauty.
We began walking again and as we got closer to the yard, I saw a sign announcing that this yard was the “Yard of the Month.” I also saw a woman working hard in one of the flower gardens. Kitten saw her too.
“I love your flowers,” Kitten said as we passed by. The woman looked up from her work and gave us the old once over before replying, “Thanks.”
She got up and started walking toward us and said, “I’m very proud of my yard. Gardening and landscaping is a great way to relieve stress. I’ve won yard of the month for seven straight months.”
Kitten looked at her in awe, “You did all this yourself?”
The woman looked very proud and said, “Yep. It’s not too difficult…just a little hard work and elbow grease. I learned my work ethic in the Marine Corps.”
Kitten smiled at the woman and exclaimed, “Wow! You were in the Marines? So was her boyfriend!” She nodded towards me. “He’s kind of nice, but most Marines I’ve met were assholes.”
The woman got the strangest look on her face and she turned to me, “Your boyfriend was in the Corps?”
I stop staring at Kitten with my mouth agape and look at the woman…I mean really look at her…she’s about five inches taller than me and a little heavier. But she looks incredibly strong. She also looks incredibly pissed. But before I can apologize, she says, “My name is Anna.”
I blush deep red because she hasn’t stopped staring at me. I look into her deep brown eyes and respond, “I…I’m Joni. This is Gemma and ah, Kitten.”
“Kitten, huh? I guess that explains the collar.”
“What does that mean?” Kitten asks leering at the other woman.
“Oh nothing…nothing at all. It was nice meeting you. I’ve got to get back to work now.”
The woman named “Anna” turns to walk away. But before she gets back to her gardening, Kitten yells, “Hey Bitch! Thanks for the fucking flowers!”
To my astonishment, Kitten storms into a flowerbed, kicks over several bushes, tramples flowers and rips several bulbs from a Magnolia tree. Then she grabs a big handful of Louisiana Irises and runs down the street. “Kitten!!!! What the fuck are you doing?!!!” I scream, but the giggling girl in about half a block away. I stare after her just as I get tackled from behind.
“You fucking bitches will pay for that!” Anna yells as she starts punching and slapping me. She straddles me and manages to pin my arms under her knees. Gemma…God bless her dark little heart…comes to my rescue, but Anna the Marine keeps me pinned underneath her knees, grabs Gemma’s waistband and pulls her into a wicked elbow deep in her stomach. The English girl exclaims, “Fuck!!!” as the air is driven from her lungs, and Anna begins making us regret our walk.
I’ve said it before, and I’m not ashamed to say it again….Gemma is the fighter that I’m not. But we quickly learn that we may be outclassed against Anna the Marine. Not that either of us would back down, quite the contrary. Jenn Peccavi (aka Emma Fox) described me as having “a smart-mouth that would drive a nun to murder.” And, like I’ve said before, Gemma is just a bitch. And a crazy bitch at that! But Anna obviously takes her gardening seriously, and I was apparently the easiest target. “Why are you attacking me?!!!”
“Because you’re the ring leader of your little group of miscreants!”
“But she did it, not me!”
“You should have had that leash on the fucking retard!”
“Hey…she’s not retarded…just submissive.”
“Then you two suck as dommes.”
Anna keeps me pinned and she and Gemma trade punches. Gemma isn’t faring any better than I am, and soon she is pinned on top of me.
“Ugh…let me go, bitch!”
“Not until you pay for these damages.”
“But we didn’t do anything!”
“Then you stay here until your sorry little friend comes back.”
“Let us go!”
While Anna had her attention squarely on Gemma and me, she didn’t notice that Kitten had snuck back behind the houses and behind her. Fortunately for us, Kitten wasn’t in the mood to play ‘pile-on.’ Unfortunately for Anna, Kitten was carrying a five-pound bag of triple 13 fertilizer. Anna was oblivious to her presence until the bag struck her in the back of the head. Her eyes rolled back briefly and then she collapsed in a heap beside us. We were free, and we ran like scared children.
We went a few blocks and finally stopped to check for any pursuit. We didn’t see anyone so took a minute to catch our breaths. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Gemma glares angrily at Kitten.
“What? I just wanted to pick some flowers for Joe. He’s been good to me.”
“Are you insane?” I add, just to be saying something.
“Most likely, but that was fun!”
“Fun?!!! She nearly beat the crap out of us! Now we have to walk an extra three miles home, you stupid cunt!”
“Fuck you! I just wanted some flowers,” Kitten says as tears form in her eyes. I now feel like a heel.
“Well, we’re going to have to find some way to pay her back for the damages.”
“Screw her, she tried to beat you two up.”
“Yeah, well, she could have you arrested.”
“She won’t. She’ll try to find us. She was a ‘Marine,’ you know (snickers).”
“Yeah, well, you’re getting the leash for the trip home.”
“No! Please don’t! I’ll be good!”
Gemma stares at her for a moment and finally says, “You said that earlier. Now it’s the leash.”
Gemma leans forward to snap the leash on the collar’s hook and Kitten bolts upright and starts to run. However, I was anticipating this move (strange that I finally anticipated anything, right?) and I tackle her to the ground. After a brief struggle…and an elbow to the forehead….we manage to latch the leash. Another moment of coaxing Kitten onto her feet, and we’re on our way.
We obviously can’t go back the way we came. That would most likely be a poor move health-wise, so we trek the long way home. After a few minutes, Kitten stops sulking and starts enjoying her little stroll. She and Gemma are playing a warped little game of tug-o-war. Kitten will walk as far as the leash will allow her away from us and Gemma will pull her back with a sharp tug. Each time, Kitten will let out a little gasp and whimper, “Bitch.” Gemma smiles whenever she does.
I keep looking over my shoulder expecting to see Anna the Marine round the corner in hot pursuit, but fortunately she doesn’t come. We walk on and I’m more relieved with each step we get closer to home. Kitten is now behaving herself. She and Gemma tired of their little game and they’re just plodding along. The sun is dipping from the sky in the west and the storm clouds are moving ever closer. There is even a rumble of distant thunder in the air. The atmosphere isn’t alive with electricity yet. Well, it isn’t until a gorgeous blonde jogger rounds the corner coming straight toward us.
The ever lascivious Gemma stops and stares at the blonde as she nears us. “Who is that girl? I’ve seen her jogging on our street.”
“I’ve talked to her a few times. Her name is Joanne. I think she wrestles as a hobby.”
“Really? I’d love to get her on the mats, hehehe…..”
“I bet you would, you whore.”
Joanne gets closer and she smiles and says, “Hi,” as she passes. Kitten says something under her breath and Joanne stops in her tracks. “What did you say?” The blonde snaps at Kitten.
“You heard me. I’m hotter than you, Bitch.”
Joanne stares at the girl on a leash for a moment. Then she rolls her eyes. “Yah, okay. Whatever you say. Nice leash.” Apparently, Joanne doesn’t think it’s very odd to see a girl being walked on a leash. This is New Orleans, after all.
“Fuck you, Bitch! I’ll kick your ass!” Kitten says with a smirk.
“Kitten, shut up,” I implore.
“Fuck her. She thinks she’s tough. I hate blondes.”
“I guess we know how you feel about me then,” I say trying to lighten the mood.
“You’re okay, I guess. But this blonde is a fucking tramp. Let me go and I’ll kick her ass.”
“No Kitten, let’s go home.”
Joanne is now laughing at the leashed girl and says, “Hey, cunt! You better go home YOU CANDYASS BITCH before I have you face down and ass up!”
One good look at Joanne will tell you that she’s a natural born fighter. She is about 5’6” and probably around 120 pounds of pure athleticism. She is in perfect shape. I would hate to tangle with her, but the thought of rolling around on a mat…hmmmm…..
But Kitten apparently isn’t at all intimidated. Before Gemma and I can react, we hear the leash hook snap, and we watch in stunned silence as the now free Kitten rushes the blonde.
Gemma and I finally react, but not before Kitten’s head snaps back from two quick punches from the blonde. Joanne follows up her punches by kicking Kitten in the belly. The brunette doubles up with a, “Umphh,” and falls onto her side moaning. Gemma and I rush to get her away from the blonde, but as I approach the fallen girl, Joanne punches me in the jaw and I sprawl on top of Kitten.
Gemma pulls up short to avoid getting hit, “Hey, I’m sorry, she’s nuts. We’ll get her out of here.”
“Fuck that! You should have controlled her if she’s crazy. Now I’m going to kick all three of your asses!”
Joanne steps into Gemma, and the two women exchange blows. Gemma is still trying to persuade the angry woman to stop, but Joanne isn’t listening to reason. Finally I manage to get to my knees and I tackle Joanne to the ground. As she falls, she frees a leg and kicks me in the chest. I stagger back on Kitten again. Gemma presses her advantage and manages to land a punch square on the blonde’s cheek. This blow incapacitates her enough for me to straddle her and wrench her arms back into twin hammerlocks. We search around for something to restrain the fallen girl, but the only thing we can find is her iPod ear buds. I hold the struggling blonde while Gemma binds her wrists. Finally she is secure, but she manages to bite me on the inside of my thigh. I howl in pain as she clamps down and Gemma knees her in the head to make her release my leg.
By now Kitten has regained her composure and we start running toward home. But before she leaves, Kitten bends over the blonde, does something I can’t quite see and then kicks the blonde hard in the belly. Soon all of us are fleeing toward home.
We make it a few blocks when we finally stop to rest. Anger flares in my chest and I turn to Kitten, “Dammit! What the hell is wrong with you?!!! Are you trying to get us killed?….Wait a minute, what’s that in your hand?”
“Nothing.”
“Let me see!”
“No. Fuck you!”
I grab he wrist and she tries to pull away from me. “Open your hand,” I demand.
“No. It’s mine!”
Gemma grabs Kitten’s wrist and twists it painfully. The brunette yelps in pain and her hand opens. A shiny pink object falls to the sidewalk.
“No, Kitten! Please tell me you didn’t take Joanne’s iPod.”
“We won it fair and square! We kicked her ass! It’s ours.”
“No it’s not. You stole it Kitten.”
“No. We won it!”
Gemma adds, “YOU didn’t do shit but get your ass kicked. Joni and I got her off your dumbass.”
“Doesn’t matter, we won it!”
Exasperatedly, “I’ll take it back to her tomorrow. Maybe she won’t have us arrested.” I stick the stolen iPod in my pocket.
“Fuck both you bitches!” Kitten storms off down the street.
“You want to put the leash on her?” I ask.
“We probably should. But it’s gonna be a real fight now,” Gemma says with a chuckle.
And a fight it was. We have to wrestle the angry Kitten to the ground to get the leash back on her but we finally succeed. We’re much closer to home, but Kitten is determined not to make the rest of the walk easy for us.
Have you ever felt like you’re being watched? That’s exactly how I feel right now. It seems that eyes are upon us from every house. Soon the watchers aren’t very discreet. Almost every house has a man mowing the front lawn, and all of them are wearing sunglasses. Which is funny because storm clouds overtook the sun a long time back. But the men aren’t the only watchers. Teenage boys watch as their angry girlfriends glare. Preteen boys watch, as their mothers’ can’t hide their disgust. Housewives come out of their houses to protect their ‘property.’
Of course Kitten is the first to notice the new group of female watchers. She begins a litany of insults as we pass each house. The green house, “Fat bitch.” The house next to it, “Ugly cunt.” And the next, “Cheap whore.” And so on and so on all the way down the block. Until she isn’t getting the attention she desires. So she starts kicking full trashcans into the street. Soon, we have an angry mob of housewives chasing us.
Fortunately, we are younger and in better shape than any of our pursuers. We soon lose them or they give up and go home. I breathe a sigh of relief because I can see our driveway a few hundred yards ahead. Maybe we can make it without another incident.
No such luck.
I almost pee myself when the Jefferson Parish Police car turns onto our street and up to the curb beside us. I get a good look at the driver as she stops the car and puts in park. I say, “Oh God! Anybody but her…..”
Gemma gives me look and says, “You know her?”
“Yes. She dated Joe just before I did. She blames their breakup on me. She says they were gonna get married.”
“Oh bloody HELL! Can this day get any worse?”
Funny Gemma should say that. It is about to get decidedly worse.
“Well, well, well. Look what we’ve got here!” The police officer says as she approaches us. “We get a call about a group of girl gang members terrorizing the neighborhood and all I find is three little whores. Hello, Joni. How’s Joe?”
Not reacting to the sarcasm in her voice, my reply is sugary sweet, “He’s fine, Tina. We’re talking about getting married.”
The police officer blushes and anger turns her cheeks a deep scarlet, “I was wondering if you were still around. I’ve thought about dropping in to see him sometime. I see you’re out working the street corner with your whore friends.”
“There’s really no reason to talk to us that way, Tina. We’re not causing any trouble.”
“You’re not? Then why do I keep getting calls about three women matching your descriptions causing problems in this neighborhood? You better watch your ass, Joni. I’m going to pay you back someday.”
“Can we leave?”
“Not until I check you for warrants.”
Now I’m pissed, but I also know this is a battle I can’t win. We give Tina the Trooper our names and birthdays…I’m pretty sure Kitten lied about both…and we wait for the results. After a few minutes, Tina walks back over to us, and this time she’s carrying her nightstick. “Okay, looks like you are clear, but oddly enough, there seems to be no record for your little friend here,” motioning toward Kitten.
“She just moved here. She isn’t a criminal.”
“Why’s she on a leash?”
“She likes to be lead around on a leash.”
“You’re weird. I’m going to stomp your ass one day. You know that, right?
“Are we done?”
Tina nods that we are, but as I step away from her, she strikes out with her nightstick and loops the L-shaped handle behind my neck. She jerks me forward and drives a punch deep into my stomach. “Ommmphhh!!!” I gasp and collapse onto my knees. Tina raises the stick to hit me in the back, but I hear Kitten’s leash latch click and I watch in surreal wonder as she reaches up, snatches the baton away from Tina and take off running behind the houses. Tina screams, “OH FUCK!!!” and takes off after her.
Gemma helps me to my feet and we run at full speed toward home. Hopefully, we can get there before more officers pour into the neighborhood. We make it home, but I begin to fear for Kitten. But before we can worry too much, the front door flies open and to my relief, Kitten is standing just inside. She giggles and says, “I left the backdoor unlocked.”
I explode, “Dammit, Kitten?!!! What the fuck is wrong with you?!!! We could all be going to jail! Most likely we will be! Are you insane?”
Kitten just giggles and says, “I probably am, but I wasn’t going to let her beat on you like that! I hate cops! They think they can do anything they want!”
“Joe’s a cop, Kitten.”
“He’s different. He’s one of the good ones. That bitch isn’t. Don’t worry, she won’t do anything to us. I threw her stick in a pool a few yards over. I saw her fish it out and walk back to her car. She’s already gone. She knows what she did was wrong. But you should probably drive the speed limit for awhile.”
Gemma walks in and says, “The cop left. I don’t think she’s going to do anything. That was crazy! She really hates you.”
We finally relax and wait on Joe to come home. I dread telling him what’s going on. He’ll probably lock all of us in a closet. Gemma announces that she is going to take a bath while I prepare dinner. Kitten takes her normal spot in front of the television and watches Cartoon Network. I really think that girl is nuts.
A little while later, Kitten walks into the kitchen. She stands around but doesn’t say anything. She just looks at me and then down at the floor. Finally, I say, “What’s on your mind, Kitten?”
She continues staring at the floor and finally says, “Uh….uh….Joni? I’m really sorry about today.”
I look up at her and see sincerity that I’ve never seen in her before. She has tears in her eyes as she continues, “I just like to have fun. No one wants me around. I thought Boche would be back for me by now, but I guess he isn’t coming back. Now Gemma and you hate me.”
“We don’t hate you Kitten. You just get us into trouble, but I guess we’d be bored if you weren’t here.”
Kitten actually starts crying and hugs me. We embrace for a moment until we hear a knock on the door. We look at each other and them walk into the foyer and look out the window. I gasp in shock when I see Anna the Marine armed with a baseball bat. Joanne the Grlwrestler armed with a tire iron, Tina the Trooper…now in street clothes…armed with her nightstick, and several other neighborhood women armed with various other items. Hell, I think I even see a few pitchforks and torches. I recoil from the window, grab Kitten’s wrist and run down the hall. We encounter Gemma as she’s coming out of the shower, her body and hair wrapped in towels, “Who’s at the door, Joni?” She demands.
“Uh….uh…its for you!”
“For me? I have a visitor? Why didn’t you call for me sooner.” Gemma walks toward the door, opens it, and steps outside. Just as the door clicks shut, “Eeeeeeeeeeekkkkkkkkk!!!!”
A couple hours later, Kitten and I are still hiding in the attic when we hear the garage door open and close. A moment later, the kitchen door opens and Joe calls out, “Joni?”
My voice echoes when I respond, but I’m pretty sure he can’t tell where I am. “Yes, dear?”
“Joni? What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“What happened today, Joni?”
“It’s a long story, Joe.”
“Is Kitten with you?”
“Yeah, she’s right here.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, Joe.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Joe.”
I can tell by the way his voice is moving that he’s looking for us.
“Uh…Joni?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Uh….why is Gemma scotch taped to the flag pole in the front yard?”
“Ugh, Joe! It’s a long story. Do we have to get into it now?”
“Well, not right now, I guess. I’m looking for a knife to cut her free.”
“Is she mad?”
“Would you be?”
“I guess she’s really going to hurt me, isn’t she?”
“That’s exactly what she said.”
“Okay. I’ll be right here for a day or two.”
Joe says nothing more, but I hear him walk back outside to free Gemma.
After a few minutes, “YOU FUCKING BITCH!!! I”LL BURN THE FUCKING HOUSE DOWN AND SIFT THE FUCKING ASHES TO FIND YOU!!!”
“Hi, Gemma! I love you!” I reply from the safety of my hideout.
Me: The foolish little Cajun girl who, despite trying hard, can’t keep her mouth shut nor can she fight very well. Never backs down, but most often ends up being carried out.
Her: The arrogant, slutty and oh-so-fine English girl who loves to torment me. She can’t keep her mouth shut either, but she actually can back up her words. Of course, she is my nemesis, the lovely Gemma Rox
Him: He is still with me. He’s my long-suffering boyfriend who is now at the mercy of three domineering women. The poor sap’s name is still Joe.
Kitten: The beautiful, but slightly deranged, play pet of the vicious…but oh-so-hot…crime lord Boche. Joe rescued her from the clutches of the evil Emma Fox (Jenn Peccavi) and now she is a thorn in my side.
Anna the Marine: She wants to do nothing but tend her flowerbeds and win “Yard of the Month” awards. Of course we find a way to screw all that up for her.
Joanne the Jogger: The drop-dead-gorgeous blonde who luvs to wrestle. She makes the mistake of running down the same street we’re on. Of course we pay for her mistake.
Tina the Trooper: The bitchy cop who used to date Joe. She blames me for their breakup, and she really wants to make me pay. She even says that.
The days since we got back from our confinement at the hands of the mysterious Emma Fox (Jenn Peccavi) were starting to run together as the events of the past moved farther and farther away. The first few days following the escape were filled with apprehension. We had no idea what had become of Jenn Peccavi and her right hand man, Boche. We heard nothing from them and we quietly went back into our normal lives as the days passed. Well about as normal as they were going to be. While my injuries healed, Gemma moved in to ‘help.’ By ‘help,’ she meant help Joe with his perverted sexual fantasies. There wasn’t much I could do while I was on crutches. As soon as Joe would leave, she would torment me by pushing me down or tripping me any chance she got. I had stitches in my forehead where Peccavi hit me with a drinking glass. Gemma would take delight in rubbing salt into it whenever she walked by me. That bitch is just plain evil. But as bad as Gemma is, she isn’t the worst of my problems.
The worst of my problems is also one that torments Gemma (THAT is funny to me, btw). That problem is the Kitten we brought home for safekeeping. Now kittens are cute little creatures that are usually welcome in any home (except ours…I’m allergic) but this Kitten is different. How different, you ask? Well, the first thing you notice is that I call her Kitten instead of “a kitten.” This kitten is a 5’6” 120 lbs of beautiful sexuality. Only you don’t notice the beauty because she is totally nuts. She was Boche’s “pet Kitten.” He led her around on a leash! Before the others escaped Jenn Peccavi’s clutches, Boche made Joe agree to take care of Kitten and he would bring me home safely in exchange. Both kept their end of the bargain, but Boche disappeared after he dropped me on the sidewalk in front of our house. Now we’re stuck with a pet Kitten. We can’t put her on the street, because Boche is the biggest crime lord in the Southeastern US, Canada, and the Caribbean. The repercussions could be too great to comprehend.
Finally my cast came off and the wounds on my head and face healed. Gemma is still a bitch, and Kitten is still a weird little psycho. Joe tries his best to keep peace between us, but there’s only so much a man alone can do. Gemma and I have gotten into at least ten full-blown brawls since the cast came off and Kitten loves to jump in when we’re fighting. Most often she’ll ball up and cry when we turn our attention to her, but sometimes she comes out on top. Once she managed to tie Gemma and me to chairs in the kitchen until Joe came home. She left the house while we were bound and Joe followed the trail of destruction until he found her with two 18 year old girls pinned underneath her a couple streets over. It seems Kitten likes to flirt with boys washing their cars and beat up their girlfriends when they complain. Joe managed to convince the girls not to call the police because all the witnesses said the girls started the fight anyway.
As a result, Joe made Gemma and me agree to a truce. No more fighting until something could be done about Kitten. Gemma voted to have her spayed. I voted to have her euthanized. Joe overrode both us and made us promise to keep a closer eye on her.
So Gemma and I were stuck babysitting a Kitten. To make matters even worse, Kitten is one of those people who whines constantly. Nothing makes her happy. Fix her something to eat and it’s either too hot or too cold. If you’re watching something on tv, she doesn’t like it. The temperature is either too hot or too cold in the house. She likes the swimming pool behind the house. But the elderly man that lives next to us recently had a heart attack while mowing his backyard. Joe thinks his infarction had something to do with the fact that Kitten likes to sunbathe topless. Hell, Gemma and I like to do that too! But we don’t like to bounce on the diving board topless, but Kitten does. Now she’s complaining that she never gets any fresh air. I told Gemma that I was going to get a pistol and make a new vent for air in her forehead. Gemma stopped me before I reached the gun….probably not because she was worried about Kitten’s safety, but because she was worried that I’d shoot her next. She’s probably right.
But what to do? Kitten is still whining. Gemma is still being a bitch. If I don’t do something soon, I may just go walk in front of a bus. The thought of murdering Joe for bringing all these idiots into my house becomes a viable option. But I can’t do that, as big a jerk as he is, I do love him. I finally make a decision, and I pray that it won’t backfire on me. “Gemma, lets take Kitten for a walk. If she doesn’t shut up soon, I’m gonna shove her through a window.”
Gemma ponders this idea for a moment before replying, “You remember what happened the last time she got loose, right?”
I sigh, “Of course, but we can’t keep her in here all day. She’ll drive us crazy. We can keep a close eye on her. Hell, we’ll even put Boche’s collar on her and take a leash with us. What’s the worst that could happen?”
I regret that comment by the end of the day.
Gemma tells Kitten to get dressed for a walk. I knew we should have watched her, but we live and learn. Her walking attire consisted of a black halter-top bikini, cutoff blue jean shorts and tennis shoes without socks. I knew right then this was going to be a long afternoon. While Gemma and I looked at each other in amazement at the younger girl’s audacity, she put her hair in a ponytail, slipped on a pair of sunglasses and announced she was ready.
I nodded slightly to Gemma as the brunette walked toward the door, and Gemma fell in behind her. Just before Kitten could touch the doorknob, Gemma slid a heavy black leather choker collar around the taller girl’s throat and the fight was on.
“What the fuck!” Kitten exclaimed. “Let me go, you fucking bitch!”
While Gemma struggled to latch the collar, I wrapped my arms around Kitten so she couldn’t wrestle away. We almost tumbled to the floor, but Kitten eventually realized that Gemma and I were fighting her. She wasn’t helping one of us gang up on the other. After a brief struggle and a severe tongue lashing that would make a sailor proud, Kitten relented and allowed the collar to be latched. She relaxed even more and giggled that she would be “a good girl” if we let her walk on her own. At the first sign of trouble, though, the leash was snapping on.
Already breathing heavily from exertion, Gemma and I led the way from the house. We fell into a nice rhythm as we strolled down the street.
Except for the fact that Kitten was dressed like a whore, and Gemma is just a fucking bitch, I started to believe that maybe this was a good idea. The day was wonderful! This was one of those late autumn afternoons that made living in New Orleans bearable. The air was cool for the Deep South and there was a soft breeze blowing in off the Gulf rattling the palm fronds and there was a touch of salt in the air. There were storm clouds building far off toward Texas, but that wouldn’t be a problem until later tonight. Right now, it was just about perfect! Maybe a little fresh air and an invigorating walk would be good for all of us.
Even Kitten was behaving herself. She was enjoying her little stroll. She smiled at children when the passed and nodded to the adults….who looked away when they noticed her attire and the heavy choker collar. But she just smiled and eventually developed a bounce in her step that told Gemma and me that she was enjoying herself. Heck, even Gemma and I started a conversation that didn’t include the words “bitch, cunt, whore, slut, etc. She told me about her life in Wales and I told her about growing up in bayou country. We even shared a laugh. Before long, the miles started slipping away.
We rounded the corner and Kitten drew up sharply and said, “Wow!” Wondering what she saw, I looked ahead and saw a very well manicured yard complete with wonderful landscaping. It had some of the most beautiful flowers to be seen in suburban New Orleans. Kitten was completely in awe of the dazzling colors and the sheer beauty.
We began walking again and as we got closer to the yard, I saw a sign announcing that this yard was the “Yard of the Month.” I also saw a woman working hard in one of the flower gardens. Kitten saw her too.
“I love your flowers,” Kitten said as we passed by. The woman looked up from her work and gave us the old once over before replying, “Thanks.”
She got up and started walking toward us and said, “I’m very proud of my yard. Gardening and landscaping is a great way to relieve stress. I’ve won yard of the month for seven straight months.”
Kitten looked at her in awe, “You did all this yourself?”
The woman looked very proud and said, “Yep. It’s not too difficult…just a little hard work and elbow grease. I learned my work ethic in the Marine Corps.”
Kitten smiled at the woman and exclaimed, “Wow! You were in the Marines? So was her boyfriend!” She nodded towards me. “He’s kind of nice, but most Marines I’ve met were assholes.”
The woman got the strangest look on her face and she turned to me, “Your boyfriend was in the Corps?”
I stop staring at Kitten with my mouth agape and look at the woman…I mean really look at her…she’s about five inches taller than me and a little heavier. But she looks incredibly strong. She also looks incredibly pissed. But before I can apologize, she says, “My name is Anna.”
I blush deep red because she hasn’t stopped staring at me. I look into her deep brown eyes and respond, “I…I’m Joni. This is Gemma and ah, Kitten.”
“Kitten, huh? I guess that explains the collar.”
“What does that mean?” Kitten asks leering at the other woman.
“Oh nothing…nothing at all. It was nice meeting you. I’ve got to get back to work now.”
The woman named “Anna” turns to walk away. But before she gets back to her gardening, Kitten yells, “Hey Bitch! Thanks for the fucking flowers!”
To my astonishment, Kitten storms into a flowerbed, kicks over several bushes, tramples flowers and rips several bulbs from a Magnolia tree. Then she grabs a big handful of Louisiana Irises and runs down the street. “Kitten!!!! What the fuck are you doing?!!!” I scream, but the giggling girl in about half a block away. I stare after her just as I get tackled from behind.
“You fucking bitches will pay for that!” Anna yells as she starts punching and slapping me. She straddles me and manages to pin my arms under her knees. Gemma…God bless her dark little heart…comes to my rescue, but Anna the Marine keeps me pinned underneath her knees, grabs Gemma’s waistband and pulls her into a wicked elbow deep in her stomach. The English girl exclaims, “Fuck!!!” as the air is driven from her lungs, and Anna begins making us regret our walk.
I’ve said it before, and I’m not ashamed to say it again….Gemma is the fighter that I’m not. But we quickly learn that we may be outclassed against Anna the Marine. Not that either of us would back down, quite the contrary. Jenn Peccavi (aka Emma Fox) described me as having “a smart-mouth that would drive a nun to murder.” And, like I’ve said before, Gemma is just a bitch. And a crazy bitch at that! But Anna obviously takes her gardening seriously, and I was apparently the easiest target. “Why are you attacking me?!!!”
“Because you’re the ring leader of your little group of miscreants!”
“But she did it, not me!”
“You should have had that leash on the fucking retard!”
“Hey…she’s not retarded…just submissive.”
“Then you two suck as dommes.”
Anna keeps me pinned and she and Gemma trade punches. Gemma isn’t faring any better than I am, and soon she is pinned on top of me.
“Ugh…let me go, bitch!”
“Not until you pay for these damages.”
“But we didn’t do anything!”
“Then you stay here until your sorry little friend comes back.”
“Let us go!”
While Anna had her attention squarely on Gemma and me, she didn’t notice that Kitten had snuck back behind the houses and behind her. Fortunately for us, Kitten wasn’t in the mood to play ‘pile-on.’ Unfortunately for Anna, Kitten was carrying a five-pound bag of triple 13 fertilizer. Anna was oblivious to her presence until the bag struck her in the back of the head. Her eyes rolled back briefly and then she collapsed in a heap beside us. We were free, and we ran like scared children.
We went a few blocks and finally stopped to check for any pursuit. We didn’t see anyone so took a minute to catch our breaths. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Gemma glares angrily at Kitten.
“What? I just wanted to pick some flowers for Joe. He’s been good to me.”
“Are you insane?” I add, just to be saying something.
“Most likely, but that was fun!”
“Fun?!!! She nearly beat the crap out of us! Now we have to walk an extra three miles home, you stupid cunt!”
“Fuck you! I just wanted some flowers,” Kitten says as tears form in her eyes. I now feel like a heel.
“Well, we’re going to have to find some way to pay her back for the damages.”
“Screw her, she tried to beat you two up.”
“Yeah, well, she could have you arrested.”
“She won’t. She’ll try to find us. She was a ‘Marine,’ you know (snickers).”
“Yeah, well, you’re getting the leash for the trip home.”
“No! Please don’t! I’ll be good!”
Gemma stares at her for a moment and finally says, “You said that earlier. Now it’s the leash.”
Gemma leans forward to snap the leash on the collar’s hook and Kitten bolts upright and starts to run. However, I was anticipating this move (strange that I finally anticipated anything, right?) and I tackle her to the ground. After a brief struggle…and an elbow to the forehead….we manage to latch the leash. Another moment of coaxing Kitten onto her feet, and we’re on our way.
We obviously can’t go back the way we came. That would most likely be a poor move health-wise, so we trek the long way home. After a few minutes, Kitten stops sulking and starts enjoying her little stroll. She and Gemma are playing a warped little game of tug-o-war. Kitten will walk as far as the leash will allow her away from us and Gemma will pull her back with a sharp tug. Each time, Kitten will let out a little gasp and whimper, “Bitch.” Gemma smiles whenever she does.
I keep looking over my shoulder expecting to see Anna the Marine round the corner in hot pursuit, but fortunately she doesn’t come. We walk on and I’m more relieved with each step we get closer to home. Kitten is now behaving herself. She and Gemma tired of their little game and they’re just plodding along. The sun is dipping from the sky in the west and the storm clouds are moving ever closer. There is even a rumble of distant thunder in the air. The atmosphere isn’t alive with electricity yet. Well, it isn’t until a gorgeous blonde jogger rounds the corner coming straight toward us.
The ever lascivious Gemma stops and stares at the blonde as she nears us. “Who is that girl? I’ve seen her jogging on our street.”
“I’ve talked to her a few times. Her name is Joanne. I think she wrestles as a hobby.”
“Really? I’d love to get her on the mats, hehehe…..”
“I bet you would, you whore.”
Joanne gets closer and she smiles and says, “Hi,” as she passes. Kitten says something under her breath and Joanne stops in her tracks. “What did you say?” The blonde snaps at Kitten.
“You heard me. I’m hotter than you, Bitch.”
Joanne stares at the girl on a leash for a moment. Then she rolls her eyes. “Yah, okay. Whatever you say. Nice leash.” Apparently, Joanne doesn’t think it’s very odd to see a girl being walked on a leash. This is New Orleans, after all.
“Fuck you, Bitch! I’ll kick your ass!” Kitten says with a smirk.
“Kitten, shut up,” I implore.
“Fuck her. She thinks she’s tough. I hate blondes.”
“I guess we know how you feel about me then,” I say trying to lighten the mood.
“You’re okay, I guess. But this blonde is a fucking tramp. Let me go and I’ll kick her ass.”
“No Kitten, let’s go home.”
Joanne is now laughing at the leashed girl and says, “Hey, cunt! You better go home YOU CANDYASS BITCH before I have you face down and ass up!”
One good look at Joanne will tell you that she’s a natural born fighter. She is about 5’6” and probably around 120 pounds of pure athleticism. She is in perfect shape. I would hate to tangle with her, but the thought of rolling around on a mat…hmmmm…..
But Kitten apparently isn’t at all intimidated. Before Gemma and I can react, we hear the leash hook snap, and we watch in stunned silence as the now free Kitten rushes the blonde.
Gemma and I finally react, but not before Kitten’s head snaps back from two quick punches from the blonde. Joanne follows up her punches by kicking Kitten in the belly. The brunette doubles up with a, “Umphh,” and falls onto her side moaning. Gemma and I rush to get her away from the blonde, but as I approach the fallen girl, Joanne punches me in the jaw and I sprawl on top of Kitten.
Gemma pulls up short to avoid getting hit, “Hey, I’m sorry, she’s nuts. We’ll get her out of here.”
“Fuck that! You should have controlled her if she’s crazy. Now I’m going to kick all three of your asses!”
Joanne steps into Gemma, and the two women exchange blows. Gemma is still trying to persuade the angry woman to stop, but Joanne isn’t listening to reason. Finally I manage to get to my knees and I tackle Joanne to the ground. As she falls, she frees a leg and kicks me in the chest. I stagger back on Kitten again. Gemma presses her advantage and manages to land a punch square on the blonde’s cheek. This blow incapacitates her enough for me to straddle her and wrench her arms back into twin hammerlocks. We search around for something to restrain the fallen girl, but the only thing we can find is her iPod ear buds. I hold the struggling blonde while Gemma binds her wrists. Finally she is secure, but she manages to bite me on the inside of my thigh. I howl in pain as she clamps down and Gemma knees her in the head to make her release my leg.
By now Kitten has regained her composure and we start running toward home. But before she leaves, Kitten bends over the blonde, does something I can’t quite see and then kicks the blonde hard in the belly. Soon all of us are fleeing toward home.
We make it a few blocks when we finally stop to rest. Anger flares in my chest and I turn to Kitten, “Dammit! What the hell is wrong with you?!!! Are you trying to get us killed?….Wait a minute, what’s that in your hand?”
“Nothing.”
“Let me see!”
“No. Fuck you!”
I grab he wrist and she tries to pull away from me. “Open your hand,” I demand.
“No. It’s mine!”
Gemma grabs Kitten’s wrist and twists it painfully. The brunette yelps in pain and her hand opens. A shiny pink object falls to the sidewalk.
“No, Kitten! Please tell me you didn’t take Joanne’s iPod.”
“We won it fair and square! We kicked her ass! It’s ours.”
“No it’s not. You stole it Kitten.”
“No. We won it!”
Gemma adds, “YOU didn’t do shit but get your ass kicked. Joni and I got her off your dumbass.”
“Doesn’t matter, we won it!”
Exasperatedly, “I’ll take it back to her tomorrow. Maybe she won’t have us arrested.” I stick the stolen iPod in my pocket.
“Fuck both you bitches!” Kitten storms off down the street.
“You want to put the leash on her?” I ask.
“We probably should. But it’s gonna be a real fight now,” Gemma says with a chuckle.
And a fight it was. We have to wrestle the angry Kitten to the ground to get the leash back on her but we finally succeed. We’re much closer to home, but Kitten is determined not to make the rest of the walk easy for us.
Have you ever felt like you’re being watched? That’s exactly how I feel right now. It seems that eyes are upon us from every house. Soon the watchers aren’t very discreet. Almost every house has a man mowing the front lawn, and all of them are wearing sunglasses. Which is funny because storm clouds overtook the sun a long time back. But the men aren’t the only watchers. Teenage boys watch as their angry girlfriends glare. Preteen boys watch, as their mothers’ can’t hide their disgust. Housewives come out of their houses to protect their ‘property.’
Of course Kitten is the first to notice the new group of female watchers. She begins a litany of insults as we pass each house. The green house, “Fat bitch.” The house next to it, “Ugly cunt.” And the next, “Cheap whore.” And so on and so on all the way down the block. Until she isn’t getting the attention she desires. So she starts kicking full trashcans into the street. Soon, we have an angry mob of housewives chasing us.
Fortunately, we are younger and in better shape than any of our pursuers. We soon lose them or they give up and go home. I breathe a sigh of relief because I can see our driveway a few hundred yards ahead. Maybe we can make it without another incident.
No such luck.
I almost pee myself when the Jefferson Parish Police car turns onto our street and up to the curb beside us. I get a good look at the driver as she stops the car and puts in park. I say, “Oh God! Anybody but her…..”
Gemma gives me look and says, “You know her?”
“Yes. She dated Joe just before I did. She blames their breakup on me. She says they were gonna get married.”
“Oh bloody HELL! Can this day get any worse?”
Funny Gemma should say that. It is about to get decidedly worse.
“Well, well, well. Look what we’ve got here!” The police officer says as she approaches us. “We get a call about a group of girl gang members terrorizing the neighborhood and all I find is three little whores. Hello, Joni. How’s Joe?”
Not reacting to the sarcasm in her voice, my reply is sugary sweet, “He’s fine, Tina. We’re talking about getting married.”
The police officer blushes and anger turns her cheeks a deep scarlet, “I was wondering if you were still around. I’ve thought about dropping in to see him sometime. I see you’re out working the street corner with your whore friends.”
“There’s really no reason to talk to us that way, Tina. We’re not causing any trouble.”
“You’re not? Then why do I keep getting calls about three women matching your descriptions causing problems in this neighborhood? You better watch your ass, Joni. I’m going to pay you back someday.”
“Can we leave?”
“Not until I check you for warrants.”
Now I’m pissed, but I also know this is a battle I can’t win. We give Tina the Trooper our names and birthdays…I’m pretty sure Kitten lied about both…and we wait for the results. After a few minutes, Tina walks back over to us, and this time she’s carrying her nightstick. “Okay, looks like you are clear, but oddly enough, there seems to be no record for your little friend here,” motioning toward Kitten.
“She just moved here. She isn’t a criminal.”
“Why’s she on a leash?”
“She likes to be lead around on a leash.”
“You’re weird. I’m going to stomp your ass one day. You know that, right?
“Are we done?”
Tina nods that we are, but as I step away from her, she strikes out with her nightstick and loops the L-shaped handle behind my neck. She jerks me forward and drives a punch deep into my stomach. “Ommmphhh!!!” I gasp and collapse onto my knees. Tina raises the stick to hit me in the back, but I hear Kitten’s leash latch click and I watch in surreal wonder as she reaches up, snatches the baton away from Tina and take off running behind the houses. Tina screams, “OH FUCK!!!” and takes off after her.
Gemma helps me to my feet and we run at full speed toward home. Hopefully, we can get there before more officers pour into the neighborhood. We make it home, but I begin to fear for Kitten. But before we can worry too much, the front door flies open and to my relief, Kitten is standing just inside. She giggles and says, “I left the backdoor unlocked.”
I explode, “Dammit, Kitten?!!! What the fuck is wrong with you?!!! We could all be going to jail! Most likely we will be! Are you insane?”
Kitten just giggles and says, “I probably am, but I wasn’t going to let her beat on you like that! I hate cops! They think they can do anything they want!”
“Joe’s a cop, Kitten.”
“He’s different. He’s one of the good ones. That bitch isn’t. Don’t worry, she won’t do anything to us. I threw her stick in a pool a few yards over. I saw her fish it out and walk back to her car. She’s already gone. She knows what she did was wrong. But you should probably drive the speed limit for awhile.”
Gemma walks in and says, “The cop left. I don’t think she’s going to do anything. That was crazy! She really hates you.”
We finally relax and wait on Joe to come home. I dread telling him what’s going on. He’ll probably lock all of us in a closet. Gemma announces that she is going to take a bath while I prepare dinner. Kitten takes her normal spot in front of the television and watches Cartoon Network. I really think that girl is nuts.
A little while later, Kitten walks into the kitchen. She stands around but doesn’t say anything. She just looks at me and then down at the floor. Finally, I say, “What’s on your mind, Kitten?”
She continues staring at the floor and finally says, “Uh….uh….Joni? I’m really sorry about today.”
I look up at her and see sincerity that I’ve never seen in her before. She has tears in her eyes as she continues, “I just like to have fun. No one wants me around. I thought Boche would be back for me by now, but I guess he isn’t coming back. Now Gemma and you hate me.”
“We don’t hate you Kitten. You just get us into trouble, but I guess we’d be bored if you weren’t here.”
Kitten actually starts crying and hugs me. We embrace for a moment until we hear a knock on the door. We look at each other and them walk into the foyer and look out the window. I gasp in shock when I see Anna the Marine armed with a baseball bat. Joanne the Grlwrestler armed with a tire iron, Tina the Trooper…now in street clothes…armed with her nightstick, and several other neighborhood women armed with various other items. Hell, I think I even see a few pitchforks and torches. I recoil from the window, grab Kitten’s wrist and run down the hall. We encounter Gemma as she’s coming out of the shower, her body and hair wrapped in towels, “Who’s at the door, Joni?” She demands.
“Uh….uh…its for you!”
“For me? I have a visitor? Why didn’t you call for me sooner.” Gemma walks toward the door, opens it, and steps outside. Just as the door clicks shut, “Eeeeeeeeeeekkkkkkkkk!!!!”
A couple hours later, Kitten and I are still hiding in the attic when we hear the garage door open and close. A moment later, the kitchen door opens and Joe calls out, “Joni?”
My voice echoes when I respond, but I’m pretty sure he can’t tell where I am. “Yes, dear?”
“Joni? What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“What happened today, Joni?”
“It’s a long story, Joe.”
“Is Kitten with you?”
“Yeah, she’s right here.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, Joe.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Joe.”
I can tell by the way his voice is moving that he’s looking for us.
“Uh…Joni?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Uh….why is Gemma scotch taped to the flag pole in the front yard?”
“Ugh, Joe! It’s a long story. Do we have to get into it now?”
“Well, not right now, I guess. I’m looking for a knife to cut her free.”
“Is she mad?”
“Would you be?”
“I guess she’s really going to hurt me, isn’t she?”
“That’s exactly what she said.”
“Okay. I’ll be right here for a day or two.”
Joe says nothing more, but I hear him walk back outside to free Gemma.
After a few minutes, “YOU FUCKING BITCH!!! I”LL BURN THE FUCKING HOUSE DOWN AND SIFT THE FUCKING ASHES TO FIND YOU!!!”
“Hi, Gemma! I love you!” I reply from the safety of my hideout.
End Game: The Final Battle in the Gemma-Joni Wars
Cast of Characters
Me: The foolish little Cajun girl who can’t seem to stay out of trouble despite numerous beatings. Still hates Gemma worst of all, but others are quickly ascending her list.
Her: The tattooed slut from England who really can fight. She was forced to team with Joni for the fight of her life. She survived, and she still REALLY hates Joni. She and her fine butt still Rox!
Him: He's still with me…although I often wonder why. I haven’t seen him since he left for Texas to help Her in whatever her dumbass has gotten into. His name is still Joe.
Them: The duo of professional wrestlers hired to hurt me and her. The beat us pretty badly, but they ultimately failed in their mission. Of course they are the legendary team of Marie B and Kayla. Marie has a seething hatred for Joni, as well as a budding rivalry.
That Tall Mean Bitch: She was the Tall Announcer Woman in the Passionate Hatred series. Now she’s the mean bitch who really wants to make Gemma suffer. She is the lovely and humorous Jessika.
The Mysterious Bitch: Of course this would be the mysterious ‘Emma Fox.’ The driving force behind all this foolishness. For some reason, she really dislikes Me and Her. We have no clue why, but we soon find out. She is played by our favorite moderator, the lovely Jenn Peccavi…who we really hope has a sense of humor
Emma’s Right Hand Man: Emma’s most trusted emissary. We thought he was unbiased throughout our fights with Kayla and Marie B. We were very wrong. Although he still may have his own agenda. He is the sexy Canadian, Boche.
The Guy Always Lurking in the Shadows: Stormbolt7 has shown up on occasion, and he even promoted a couple of Our encounters. Will we ever find out what is motivating him? We probably wouldn’t have a story if we didn’t.
Kitten: The strange girl Boche claims he “owns.” She quickly becomes a pain in my butt.
Chapter 1
Hi! My name is Joni. I know I have told the earlier stories in a strange script-like format, but I thought I’d change this one up a little and go to a narrative script. I like changing things (just not my eyeliner. Please don’t ask why). It keeps me on my toes. Kind of like when I round a corner and nearly walk into a light post…that kind of ‘on my toes.’
The tale I’m about to share is completely true…If you believe in fantasies, that is. It’s kind of like a trip to Neverland. Except we all get old here. Especially Gemma. You should see the bags under that bitch’s eyes. Too much drinking and not enough sleep, I guess. Stupid cunt.
Oh well, back to the story. This particular day I was sitting at my computer desk…hoping for word from Joe and Gemma…surfing lingerie sites on the web when this mysterious voice told me I have mail. Whenever the voice tells me this, I immediately freeze as cold chills run up my spine! After a moment, I look around the room, but I never find whoever tells me I have mail. I check the house, but I never find anyone. I walk out to the mailbox, and I find it empty. The voice always lies to me. But strangely enough, I go back to the computer and find that someone has sent me a message. Weird, huh? I click on the message icon, and I shake my head and sigh…some one is addressing me as ‘Stupid Bitch’ again.
Dear Stupid Bitch,
Since I haven’t taunted you in a while (it’s true…she hasn’t) I thought I would drop in and torment you a little today. It’s finally time that we meet. (Ugh…I don’t want to meet this nutty whore). I’ve sent you a little present. I REALLY hope you enjoy it!
Love,
Emma
xxx
PS….I really can’t wait to see you bloody and broken at my feet. I’m wet just typing those words…..
Of course there’s an attachment with message, but I decide not to open it. I just click out and go back to my underwear website. I buy myself a cute little red nighty because I’m so distraught over Emma’s last message. Joe and his credit card will understand.
A few minutes later I get up to get something to drink. As I’m walking back from the kitchen, I hear that strange voice again! “You’ve got mail!” Using my catlike reflexes (in reality I nearly pee myself and almost fall through a closet door, but I like my version of events better), I turn quickly around charge through the house looking for the mysterious messenger. Of course the house is empty…and so is the outside mailbox. Damn lying motherfucker! But when I get back to the computer, I notice I have a new message. I shake my head but I open it anyway.
Hello again, Bitch,
Since you most likely didn’t open the last attachment I sent you, I decided to send another. But before you open it, maybe you should ask yourself where your boyfriend, his name is Joe, I believe, really is at tonight. He is with your little nemeses Gemma, isn’t he?
Sweet dreams, luv,
Emma
xxx
Oh God! What is this crazy bitch talking about now? I call Joe’s cell phone, but I get no response. That doesn’t concern me…he usually calls back within twenty minutes, or so. But after twenty minutes, he hasn’t responded. I try again. No response. I shake my head again, and decide to open Emma’s attachment.
It takes a few seconds for the download to complete, but I know what the image is before it fully loads. It’s obvious. I’ve seen those tattoos before. The image is of Gemma engaged in a passionate kiss with my boyfriend. He has her lifted in his arms and he’s holding her like a child.
Chapter 2
I want your ugly
I want your disease
I curse. I throw things. I cry. I scream. Then I sob. “How could he do this to me?” I want to just curl up and die. This is the man I love! And he’s with the woman I hate the worst! “How can you do this to me, Joe? How? Why? Oh God…..”
I remember the first attachment. I know I shouldn’t, but I have to open it. I find it and click on it. It takes another minute to download….same hotel room. Same Joe. Different woman. This time it’s the fucking midget Canadian gymnast whore! I cry more. “Why Joe? Why with the two women I hate worst in the world?”
After a while, I compose myself and I remember an item Joe leaves in the computer desk. I slide the drawer open, and there it is. I remove the wicked looking silver instrument and slowly raise it to my temple. No. Not good enough. I open my mouth and slide it in. I nearly gag on the taste of gun oil and burnt gunpowder. I lower the pistol onto the desk and cry more. Then I realize the gun isn’t for me. Not yet anyway. I remove the magazine and then the bullets. I name one “Gemma.” The next one I name “Marie.” The third one is called “Joe.” The fourth “Kayla” (I know I won’t be able to get to Marie without going through her). The next nine are for whomever gets in my way. The next to last one I name “Emma.” I call the last one in the magazine “Joni.”
Chapter 3
I want your horror
I want your design
‘Cause you’re a criminal
As long as your mine
Over the next few hours I get several more images from the mysterious Emma Fox. All the messages are taunting. The images become more detailed and lurid with each attachment. I become fascinated with how far Marie and contort her supple body! I’d be really impressed if that wasn’t my man the little cunt was fucking! The images of Joe with Gemma don’t make things any better. Although I learn that she likes it doggy style while bent over furniture. “I”LL KILL THAT GODDAMN WHORE!!!!!”
I run from the house and out to my car. I speed down the street like a drunken Nascar driver. I drive erratically, but I know where I’m headed. I have my Berretta 9mm by my side. I know the hotel the pictures with Marie B. were taken in. It’s the Omni Royal Orleans. The place Joe likes to take me when we spend late nights in the Quarter. As a matter of fact, it’s the same room. Joe calls it “our suite.” That fucking BASTARD!!!
I reach the hotel without running anyone down, although there were some close calls on Canal. I double park and storm into the hotel. Once inside I’m stopped quickly by security. Obviously there is a protocol for handling angry women tromping down the corridor with a loaded 9mm. Apparently I wasn’t the first to do it. After being thrown to the ground and handcuffed…threatened with pepper spray after biting a guard…and finally threatened with a taser by an off-duty NOPD officer, I was lead to the security office. But before we get there, an oddly familiar voice stops the guards and inquires as to why I’m handcuffed. After a few minutes of haranguing and bickering, the guards decide to release me to the man, who tells them I’m his sister. Of course no one believes him, but they decide to let me go. The hotel management doesn’t want things that should be handled discreetly to wind up in the morning Times-Picayune. Of course they won’t give my gun back…even after I bat my baby blues at them. Assholes! How can they take it away from me after I named the bullets?!!!
“We need to get out of here before they change their minds.” My mysterious benefactor says after I compose myself.
I know I’ve seen him before, and I know where. He was the referee for four of the five fights with Kayla and Marie. He’s a tall, very handsome guy, but in my anger I can’t remember his name. He seemed to be unbiased, and he was always trying to do what was right. I agree that we should leave.
He walks me to my car just as Joe’s Wrecker Service (isn’t that fucking ironic!) tows it from its double-parked spot and toward an address on Airline Highway. I sit on the curb and cry.
Chapter 4
This used to be a Funhouse
But now it's full of evil clowns
It's time to start the countdown
I'm gonna burn it down
The man who saved me from a night in jail reminded me that he is called Boche. He offers to drive me home, if I’d agree to explain why I came to the Omni Royal Orleans with a loaded gun and an attitude. Since he already knows most of the story anyway, and because I’m an emotional wreck wanting to tell someone, I fill in the rest of the details.
My emotions are completely drained by the time we get home. My passionate hatred for Gemma has now reached a crescendo. My anger at Joe is about to explode with unbridled fury. Boche can tell by the look on my face that something stupid is about to happen.
“Let me drive you somewhere. Maybe to a friend or relative’s house? You don’t need to be alone.”
I stare angrily at the front of my house. The one I shared with Joe for so many wonderful years. All that time flashes through my mind, and the incredulous circumstances that lead to this moment overcome me….this is all my fault. I collapse into his arms and weep when this realization hits me.
If only I had kept my mouth shut that night so long ago in Cardiff, Wales. I would have never met Gemma Rox. Nor would Joe. We would still be living our quiet, mundane lives here in the suburbs. Damn her! Damn her! Damn her! Boche has to restrain me from going into the garage and retrieving a jug of gasoline. I want to burn this fucker down.
Chapter 5
Nine….eight….seven….six, five, four….three….two….one…FUN!
Boche successfully wrestles the gas can and matches from my grasp, and I collapse against him once again. I cry harder and struggle to get free, but he refuses to let me go. I punch and kick to no avail. He calmly strokes my hair and whispers that things will work themselves out. I finally give up my struggles, but I can’t resist pressing my body deep into his and kissing him with all the passion I have left in my spent psyche. We enter the house and I have my first taste of revenge for the sins committed against me. At the time it felt so right. Take that, Joe! You motherfucker. Then I stared at the wall and regretted the last hour for the rest of the night.
“I can take you to her.”
I lie on my side staring at the bedroom wall as those words rattle around in my head. Finally, I ask whom he is talking about. He replies, “Emma Fox.”
I slowly sit up and turn toward him. “How do you know her? I thought everyone involved in those fights were hired by Jessika.”
“I have worked for Emma Fox for years. I am, how would you say? Her right-hand man.”
If he had hit me with a hammer, I wouldn’t have been more stunned! I scramble to my feet, and say in a deep, growling voice, “You asshole! What do you want with me?”
“Nothing that you don’t want for yourself.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You want to find Emma. You also want revenge on Gemma and your man. Am I not right?”
I stare at him for a moment, my anger rapidly leaving but a residual burn takes its place.
“I can take you to her.”
“Where is she?”
“I can take you there.”
“When?”
“Now, if you like.”
“Let’s go.”
“Are you sure you want to meet her?”
“Of course. This is the tenth story written in her honor. Who wouldn’t?”
“She really hates you. You should run as far away from her as you can.”
“Fuck that! What’s the worst that could happen?”
“You really don’t want me to answer that. The worst is actually what she has planned for you.”
“She knows I’m coming?”
“Of course. I was sent her to bring you back. Luckily, you came to me and saved me a great deal of work.”
“You fucking asshole! You seduced me!”
“Some might say that you seduced me. Now get in the car.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere with you! You bastard!”
He bats his big green eyes and persuades me to get into the car, although I think it has more to do with the small pistol he pulled out of his pocket that his gorgeous eyes.
We leave that afternoon for Houston, Texas…for what he calls, “My meeting with destiny.”
Chapter 6
She say never have I known it when it felt so good
Never have I knew it when I knew I could
Never have I done it when it looked so right
Leaving Louisiana in the broad daylight
Driving westward I-10 across the southern part of the state always fills me with wonder when I look out at the vast beauty of my home state. I fight off an overwhelming urge to cry as we leave the state and cross into Texas. An ominous feeling that I may never see the Mississippi draining into the Gulf ever again almost take my breath away. I fight off the urge to cry and we head toward the urban ugliness that is Houston.
We arrive in the city at rush hour. Isn’t it always rush hour in Houston? I’d leave this fucking place too if I had to live here. It’s almost as bad as the ghetto that is Memphis, Tennessee. But that’s for another story. We drive into a grimy industrial area until we come to a dark, looming multi-story building. It is grimy and unwelcoming but we drive through a large open door and deep into its bowels. Boche parks the car and asks me to follow him to an elevator. I don’t argue, because once again he has his little gun in his hand. We ride up to the building’s third floor, where we exit and walk down a short, dimly lit hallway to a closed door. Using a key he removes from his pocket, Boche opens the door. He urges me to lead the way in. I enter but quickly stop and Boche walks into me and nearly knocks me to the floor. Standing in the middle of the room are Gemma and Joe. Gemma is in his arms. At least they have their clothes on.
“YOU GODDAMN WHORE!!!! I scream at Gemma and start to rush her, but a strong arm wraps itself around my throat and a white cloth with a foul smelling odor encompasses my mouth and nose. I struggle and writhe, but to no avail. I quickly go limp and dream of frogs being dissected in a laboratory.
Chapter 7
“You son of a bitch! What did you do to her?!!!” Joe exclaims as he watches the woman he loves slide to the floor at Boche’s feet. His bonds keep him from rushing Boche, but he tries anyway and crashes to the floor bringing Gemma down on top of him. After falling, he says, “This was your plan all along? To let her see us tied together?”
“Oh no my friend, she didn’t see your bindings. All she saw was you and the English girl in an embrace.”
I’m gonna kill you, motherfucker…” Joe growls as a laughing Boche walks from the room carrying an unconscious Joni on his shoulder.
“Well, I guess that bitch is really going to hate me now.” Gemma says with a grunt as Joe helps her to her feet.
“She already hates you for some reason.”
“You know why she hates me.”
“Yeah, but I don’t understand the reason.”
“Do you understand anything that ignorant cunt does?”
“Gemma, please.”
“I’m sorry Joe. I know you love her, but she dragged me into this. None of this would have happened if she had left well enough alone that night Metros.”
“God….that was so long ago. It seems like ages.”
“When this is over I’m going to break her fucking neck, Joe.”
“Please don’t. She means well. She really does have a good heart. It’s just that she….she….uh….gets so damned determined. Then there’s trouble.”
“She didn’t have to drag me into her trouble though.”
“I know, Gemma. But it’s kind of odd that you keep popping up. You beat her up pretty badly the first time. You had nothing else to prove. Why do you keep coming back?”
Gemma stares at the ground wistfully for a few moments and then replies, “You know, I really can’t answer that. I can’t believe I’m about to say this….but I think I really care about her. I can’t explain why, but I really do. I never had this kind of excitement in my life before she walked into Metros that night. It’s been like a crazy merry-go-round since then. And I really like you…..”
Joe softly lowers his forehead onto hers and sighs, “Hopefully this will all be over soon. I wish they would untie us.”
Chapter 8
If you open your mind to me,
You won’t rely on open eyes to see
I lie in a peaceful slumber, my head resting on warm, alabaster stone. A soft breeze riffles through my unkempt blonde hair and his soft finger tips gently caress my cheek.
I open my eyes and I realize that unless Boche or Joe paint their toenails, then the warm, alabaster stone my head is resting on is a pair of legs belonging to another girl. I’m in a room, so there are no soft breezes and the girl who is cradling my head in her lap is stroking my cheek and playing with my hair. She has cute red toenails….
“Gemma?” I softly ask.
“What the fuck did you call me?” A laughing voice asks.
My eyes fly open and I roll of the couch and onto the floor when I realize I know that voice! “Marie?”
“Kayla…she thought I was that tattooed whore!”
I look around and see that I’m in a hotel room…an Omni Royal Orleans hotel room! Marie is sitting on the couch and Kayla is sitting on the edge of a bed coyly leering at me with a smirk on her face. Then it hits me that this is the same room the images of Marie and Joe came from. I call Marie a “fucking bitch” and rush at her but Kayla comes off the bed like a flash and grabs me around the waist and throws me onto the bed. Marie sits on the couch and laughs. But they don’t attack me. I wonder why….
“I enjoyed those nights with your man. He liked them too.” Marie stares at me with an evil grin on her face. “Maybe you can join in next time.”
I scramble off the bed and rush her again, but Kayla is there to stop me just like last time. I wind up face down on the bed.
“We are under strict orders not to hurt you.” Kayla says. “If we weren’t, you’d probably be face down and ass up by now. …Tee hee!”
“What orders?” I ask incredulously.
“Emma’s orders. We don’t get paid if we don’t follow them. We like getting paid. But don’t worry, you’ll end up wiggling your cute little butt for us soon enough.”
I stare at Kayla a moment, and then I look at Marie. She is being awfully quiet….just sitting and staring at me. I want to claw her fucking eyes out, but something about her demeanor makes my stomach flutter. God…I’d love to feel our bodies pressed together again….but then I want to strangle her too….
“Why did they have to put me in here with you two?” I wonder out loud.
“Why not with us? It’s not like we don’t know each other intimately,” Kayla says with a snicker.
I turn red from embarrassment and shake my head. “What is this all about?”
“Emma hates you. We didn’t finish the job she sent us to do, so she plans on finishing it herself.”
“Which is?”
“Tee hee….we can’t tell you.”
“Fucking bitch,” I mumble under my breath.
“Yes, I am. And if you survive this day, I promise you’ll soon see how much of a bitch I can be. I’m going to wipe you from Marie’s memory one day soon.”
I glance at Marie and notice that it’s now her turn to blush.
The door to the room opens and in walks Boche. He points at me and orders me into the adjoining room. Of course I refuse, so he grabs me by the hair and pulls me through the door. Strangely enough, neither Kayla nor Marie laughed at my misfortune. A glimpse of Marie’s face showed just a touch of sadness.
Boche flings me across the room by my hair and I crash to the floor. He turns on the overhead light and I see this is a bedroom. I scramble to my feet saying, “No…no…no…no…no….” over and over. I climb over a chair and kneel down behind it as if I can hide.
“Joni, I’m not here for that. Nor am I here to hurt you. Right now I’m following orders.
“Following orders, my ass! You seduced me once.”
“Don’t play games with Emma Fox…nor with me…Joni. You will not win. Ms Fox left you a little present on your pillow.” Boche says, and then leaves the room, locking the door behind him.
I watch the door close and I wonder to myself how I ever got into this situation. I should have listened to Joe from the start. I sigh and look to my pillow for my “present.” I expect to find an angry black mamba. Instead I find another photograph. This time it’s Joe and a beautiful, older brunette. I bury my face in the pillow and sob.
Chapter 9
After leaving Joni alone in her room and warning Kayla and Marie…once again…to not bother her, Boche leaves the room and walks down a long corridor to his own quarters. He walks through his apartment and onto the balcony. Using his cell phone he calls a number and says, “Storm. This is Boche. All is going as planned. The blonde is locked in her room. Kayla and Marie are aware of the situation. If we can keep Marie from killing the blonde herself, then we may just be able to get them all out alive. Ms Fox arrived earlier this evening. She came alone. She had me drug the blonde’s boyfriend again and take his picture with her. I left the photo on Joni’s bed. We must move early, if we are to save all of them. I fear for the blonde, though. If Emma kills her quickly, then we may not have a chance. I’ll call you in the morning.” Boche hangs up the call and prepares for a long, sleepless night. There is much to be done.
Across town, the man known as Storm signs off on his end of the call. Now it is his time to make preparations. He has been waiting for this moment for a long time.
Chapter 10
“So what do you think is going to happen to us?” Gemma asks Joe as they prepare for another long night of fear and unspoken sexual tension. Joe ponders the question for a minute then says, “I really don’t know, Gemma. But it’s not looking good. If only I could get some idea, or maybe find out who this Emma Fox woman is….”
“I hate being cooped up like chickens waiting for the slaughter.”
“I know. This sucks, first chance I get, I’m going to try and get us out.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Where did they take you earlier today?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You came back reeking of perfume.”
“Yeah….I know.”
“Joni caught it to. She thinks we’re having an affair.”
“I know. It’s killing me. I wish I knew where she is. We’ve got to get her out of here. It seems like that Fox woman really has it in for her.”
“She doesn’t like any of us.”
“I know. I wish I knew why, though.”
“Maybe we’re about to find out…..” Gemma replies as the door opens and Boche and two henchmen walk in.
“Get up, Joe.”
“Fuck you, Boche.”
“Okay….I was going to take you to see your little girlfriend, but if that is your attitude about seeing her….”
“Okay, okay. But someday you and me are going to have a long talk.”
“I relish the thought, sir.”
Joe is led out into the corridor and down a long hallway. They stop outside a door leading to a room just like the one he shares with Gemma. It’s funny how they remind him of rooms at the Omni Royal Orleans Hotel back in New Orleans. “What is this all about,” he thinks to himself.
Boche and the guards lead him into the room, and Joe is stunned to notice that Kayla and Marie B are on the bed pleasuring themselves. They never acknowledge the men’s presence. Boche unlocks an enter door and says to Joe, “You have ten minutes. Make the most of it.” Then he switches on the light. Joni is sitting up in bed resting her head on the headboard. She jolts awake when the light hits her eyes.
Chapter 11
“Joe?”
“I’m here, baby.” Joe rushes to the bed and we embrace. I bury my face in his chest and hold him tight as he tells me how much he missed me. I hold him as tight as possible but then I open my eyes and see the picture that was left on my pillow.
“Who is she Joe?”
“Who?” He asks, confused.
“The woman with you. Who is she?”
He stares at me in bewilderment for a moment and I shove the picture into his face. He stares at it and says, “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”
“Joe, I’ve seen some other pictures. Of you and Gemma, and ones of you and Marie. The ones with Marie were taken at the Omni Royal Orleans.” I say as tears stream down my cheeks.
“No way Joni. That isn’t possible. They’re forged. They have to be. Didn’t you notice that the room they’re holding me in looks just like a suite at the Omni Royal Orleans. Maybe they drugged us…..”
“None of you looked drugged. Oh Joe…..” I begin weeping harder.
“You’re hiding something from me, Joni. What is it? You can tell me.”
“You bastard!” I hit him in the chest. “You FUCKING BASTARD!”
“Joni, stop. Talk to me. Please?” Joe implores as I bury my face in a pillow.
“I hate myself, Joe.”
“What did you do? You slept with someone else, didn’t you? Who was it?” Joe says, getting to his feet.
The door to the room opens and Boche walks in with two armed guards. For a moment my eyes lock with Boche’s….and Joe knows.
“Joe….NO!!!” Before I can stop him, Joe runs at Boche and knocks him to the floor. As Boche falls, the two guards immediately attack Joe, beating him to the floor with the butts of their shotguns. Boche orders them to stop, but not before Joe is lying next to him.
Boche gets to his feet, rubbing his aching chin, “I guess I deserve that one. The next one will cost you your life.”
“Fuck you. I’ll kill you when I get out of here.”
“Then it’s too bad you won’t be getting out of here. I would very much like another meeting with you. Guards, take him to his room.”
The guards escort Joe from the room, but before he leaves he looks at me and says, “I love you. I always will, Joni,” and then he was gone. I immediately get a deep; sorrow filled sinking feeling that I’ll never see him again. I bury my face in the pillow and weep again. Why has my life come to this? What have I done to deserve any of this? I know my mouth started a fight with Gemma way back in Cardiff that night. She beat me up. I deserved that. But why did that night have to bring on my total destruction? Maybe I’d be better off dead. I know those around me would be better off.
“Joni, you must trust me. I can get you out of this. I don’t want to see you die. Emma Fox plans on killing you herself tomorrow.”
I realize Boche is still in the room , and I can’t believe my ears! This asshole has tricked me, seduced me, chloroformed me, and tossed me across the room by my hair…and he wants me to trust him now?!!! “Are you insane?!!!!”
“Most likely. But I’m your only hope.”
“I don’t like my chances, then.”
“The odds are against you whether you trust me, or not. But we have to try. I can’t just sit back and let her kill you.”
“She wants to kill me? Why?” I ask in bewilderment.
“I really don’t know all the facts. But it is because of something that happened long ago. Something you did to her or her family.”
“What did I do? You’re lying, aren’t you?”
“Unfortunately, I’m not lying this time. You have to trust me. I’m your only hope.”
“Like I said, I don’t think I like my chances.”
“Suit yourself. I’m still going to try and save your miserable life. This is your bedroom. I suggest…no I demand….that you get cleaned up and go to bed. You will need all the rest you can get before tomorrow morning.”
“What’s tomorrow morning?”
“That is when Emma plans to kill you. The clothes you will wear for that meeting are on the dresser.”
“I’ll wear what I have on, thank you very much!”
“Then I will hold you down, strip you, and dress you myself. Don’t play games, Joni. As I told you, I am your only hope.”
“And as I told you, I don’t think I like my chances.”
“Then maybe I should lock Marie in here with you to ensure that Ms Fox’s orders are being followed?”
“No, I’ll take a bath and wear whatever that goofy bitch wants. I want to meet her too.”
"As I said before, Joni, don't play games with Emma Fox. You don't know what you're getting into."
"I'll take my chances."
Boche looks at me for a long moment with a hint of sadness. He sighs and turns as if to leave.
“I have a little surprise for you.”
“Enough surprises, Boche. I can’t take much more.”
“Then don’t look at it as a surprise. You have a roommate for the night. Wait just a minute and I’ll bring her in,” and he leaves the room.
“Oh hell, what now? Marie? Gemma? This is just what I need on the last night of my life, “ I think to myself.
Boche soon returns and to my great surprise, he isn’t with Gemma nor Marie. He is leading a gorgeous brunette by a leash. A leash attached to a leather-studded collar around her neck. My eyes register my shock as the brunette is led in. She can’t be over twenty years old and she looks like a model! Other than the collar she is clad only in a black t-shirt. The shirt can’t hide her curves, nor can it conceal the fact she isn’t wearing anything under it.
“This my dear Joni is my Kitten. She will keep you company tonight. Actually she will ensure that you don’t do anything stupid. Isn’t that right, Kitten?”
The young girl smiles as he says, “Kitten,” and she answers with a giggle.
“Don’t let anything happen to my Kitten, Joni. I hold you responsible for her tonight,” Boche says as he unlatches the leash and then leaves the room. The click of the lock sounds like a gunshot.
I shake my head in disbelief at this turn of events. I look toward my new roommate just as she launches herself at me, slamming us both onto the bed. She wraps her fists in my hair, wrenches my head back and forth, the whole time screaming, “He’s mine, you filthy bitch,” over and over…..
My immediate shock turns to anger and it wells up from deep in the fiery pits of Hell. I unload all my frustration on this girl even though she is at least three inches taller than me and ten pounds heavier.
But my shock soon returns after only a couple punches. The girl scrambles off me, runs to the corner, and she hides behind a chair. “Don’t hurt me! Please don’t hurt me!” She implores in a tearful voice.
Chapter 12
“What the hell is wrong with you? You attack me and then beg me to stop….before I even get started?”
“Please don’t hurt me!”
“I’m going to kick your stupid ass, bitch!”
I rush around the chair she’s hiding behind, but she flees across the room and tries to scramble under the bed. I grab her by the ankle and pull her back. Once again, to my surprise, she pushes herself off the floor and wraps her arms around my head. Before I know what is happening, she’s behind me choking me.
“I want to kill you, Bitch! Boche told me all about your little night together in great detail. He’s mine. All mine.”
I start gasping for air but she releases me and flings me to the floor.
“But I can’t kill you. I was ordered not to touch you. Please don’t hurt me.”
I’m simply stunned at this turn of events! She could have broken my neck. She obviously knows how. But here she is begging for mercy again. “Who’s orders?”
“Boche’s.”
“Why?”
“Because he doesn’t want Emma Fox to kill me in your place.”
“That’s mighty humane of him.”
“Fuck you, bitch! Don’t bad mouth him! He’s good to me!”
“He leads you around on a leash.”
“(giggles) I know….”
“Are you insane?”
“Most likely. (giggles)”
“That was a stupid question. Everyone here is insane. Including me.”
I lower my head and prepare for bed, although I’m pretty sure I won’t be sleeping tonight.
“Stop staring at me.”
“Where do you want me to sleep?”
“Kittens sleep on the floor.”
“But it’s cold on the floor!”
“Too bad.”
“Fucking bitch. Can I at least have a blanket?”
“Take the comforter.”
“A pillow?”
“Don’t press your luck.”
“Bitch.”
“Yep.”
I lie on the bed and wrap myself in the sheets. I can’t stop thinking about Joe. Maybe he was set up. The feeling is right. I just can’t imagine him cheating on me willfully. I own him….just like Boche owns Kitten. I rise up and throw the spare pillow at her with all my might. It catches her in the face as she is stretching on her little pallet just like a fucking cat. She grunts when the pillow hits her and says, “Thanks, bitch.”
Eventually I drift off into a fitful, dreamless sleep. I awake to bright sunlight streaming through the cracks in the drapes. Kitten is curled up on the bed beside me. Her body pressed against mine. Her soft snoring reminds me of a content cat’s purring.
Chapter 13
The man called Storm parks a large van across the street from a seemingly abandoned warehouse. He gets out of the van and crosses the street and hides in an alcove where no watchers can see him. He removes a cell phone and dials a number he remembers by heart. “May I speak to Emma Fox, please?”
“Mr. Storm. I must congratulate you on your hard work. All is going according to plan.”
That voice. That exotic, sexy voice. Storm thinks to himself. Too bad it’s attached to this crazy bitch.
“I just wanted to make sure you were happy with the results, Ms. Fox. When can I expect Kayla and Gemma to be freed?”
“You can pick up Kayla at the specified location as soon as I have finished with the blonde. I will keep the tattooed English girl. She is next on my list after the blonde. I will compensate you with the Kayla’s little girlfriend. Jessika has indicated she has no further need for her.”
“But I was expecting the English girl as compensation.”
“You feel you are being treated unfairly?”
Storm knows this is the dangerous part of the operation. If he becomes too pushy, she may just kill them all and flee before his plan has time to work. He has to make sure Boche’s plan is followed to the letter.
“Of course not, Ms. Fox. Marie will be more than adequate as compensation.”
“Very good. I will have someone call you as soon as I’m finished with the blonde. Goodbye, and very, very good work.”
The man known as Storm ends the call and says a short prayer for “the blonde.” Chances are no one can save her. Although Boche has promised to try like hell.
Another quick call…this time to Boche. The message is simply, but decisive, “The time is here.”
Chapter 14
Kitten and I lie in our warm bed for a little while until we are jarred awake by a loud pounding on the door.
“I hope you are both decent. I am coming in,” Boche says from the doorway. “Ahhh, my beautiful Kitten! You did well. I’m so proud of you!”
I nearly throw up as she gets to her knees and nuzzles against her ‘master.’ What a gross display! She is actually purring and giggling now.
“Go to your room, Kitten. Do what I told you to do last night. You remember, yes?”
The girl says she does and then scampers from the room like a child. I turn to Boche, “What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you treat that poor girl that way?”
“Ahhh, my lovely Joni! I never would have guessed you are a humanitarian. But how do you know that it isn’t her choice to be treated that way. Maybe she even likes it.”
“You’re an animal!”
“Perhaps. But I do in fact own Kitten. She is my pet. You are not one to judge me. Isn’t Joe your pet?”
“Fuck you!”
Boche laughs at me and then says, “Please shower and then put on the attire you were shown last night. You will be having breakfast with Ms. Fox in approximately one hour. Be ready when I return.”
With that, he turns sharply and exits the room.
The next hour turns out to be the longest of my life. I can’t help but wonder if everything that has been said will come true. Am I living the last few hours of my life? Will I ever see Joe again? How about that fucking Bitch, Gemma? Will I ever get back to my beautiful New Orleans again? The knock I’d been dreading ends my reverie.
“Are you ready?” Boche asks as he enters the room.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I respond.
“Don’t play games with Emma Fox, Joni. She’s very dangerous.”
“So you keep saying.”
“It bears repeating.”
“Why do you care?”
“I want what she has. You may be my path to getting it.”
“And what might that be?”
“I cannot say. You may tell her under duress. You will surely be under duress soon enough. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going? What does she have planned for me?”
“I believe you’re having breakfast with her.”
Boche leads me from the room and down a long hallway. I become self aware of the outfit I was to ordered to wear. I’m wearing blue thong panties, a long white silk robe and nothing else. Emma has the right idea for breakfast clothing. But I feel naked as we ride the elevator upwards.
The elevator finally stops after completing it’s long journey to the roof. We disembark and walk down a short hallway, through a door to the outside and into a dream world that could only be conjured from the darkest depths of Hell.
The roof of the building has been converted into an idyllic garden scene. There are small trees growing in pots, plants, and what looks like a real grassy area. Concrete gargoyles and ceramic birds guard over the lush greenness. Real birds flock to discreetly placed feeders and baths designed to give naturalness to this unnatural setting. The scene would be beautiful…if it wasn’t for the hazy, smoggy backdrop of the Houston skyline and the noises and smells associated with any large metropolis. It also doesn’t help that several armed men are standing at each corner of the rooftop.
Boche leads me a across a clear portion of the roof that doesn’t seem to fit with the rest. We walk up two steps and onto a raised, covered porch. There is a table filled with breakfast items on the porch. There are only two chairs at the table. A woman occupies one of the chairs. She stands to greet me as we approach. “Joni, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Ms Emma Fox,” Boche says, and then walks back toward the elevator.
Chapter 15
Boche steps onto the elevator and as soon as the door closes, he calls Storm. “It’s time to roll. There are ten guards in the building. Four are on the roof. A few will flee at the first sign of trouble. The rest are loyal to Ms. Fox. The other six are scattered on the second and third floor. We don’t have much time.”
As Boche signs off his phone, the man called Storm starts up the large van, puts in gear and drives as fast as he can toward the warehouse’s closed garage door.
Boche gets off the elevator on the third floor…where the remaining captives are being held. He rushes down the hallway unlocking doors as he goes. He begins ordering everyone into the hallway. When he gets to the room where the guards are, he punches the first one through the door in the face and orders the other one to the ground at gunpoint. He sees that this guard is nothing more than a scared boy, so he disarms him and locks him in the room with the injured guard. He takes their radios before he secures the door. Just as he notices the captives streaming into the hallway, a loud crash rocks the building. He knows that this is the man called Storm driving through the garage door.
Boche must now convince the captives that it is in their best interests to follow him. But first, he must deal with the large, very angry Joe….who just yanked the pistol from his hand.
Now with a pistol pointed at his own forehead and Joe’s forearm crushing his windpipe, Boche manages to squeak, “You have to trust me! I can get you out of here!”
“Fuck you! Tell me where Joni’s at, or I’ll turn your head into a canoe!”
“Listen to me, you fool! All of you will die if you don’t!”
“Tell me where she is!”
“We’ve got to get out of here, Joe!”
Just as Boche starts fading from the immense pressure on his throat, a heavy weight hits Joe in the back. His grip is torn away from the man he was choking and he reels against the wall as Kitten reaches around his head and starts clawing at his eyes. The gun falls from his hand and clatters to the floor. He tosses the clawing, screaming woman off his back and Gemma slams into her, knocking her to the floor. As Gemma rushes to punch the brunette, the girl curls up into a fetal ball and says, “Please don’t hurt me.”
A stunned Gemma stares at her for a moment and then Boche says, “Yes, please don’t hurt my Kitten. She was only trying to help me.” Gemma stops in her tracks…not because she is a humanitarian…because Boche is holding the pistol once again.
Joe gets to his feet and stands in front of Gemma. “What do you want from us, Boche? Haven’t you done enough damage already?”
“I want you to listen to me. Don’t interrupt. If you heard that loud noise moments before then you heard Storm drive a truck through the garage door of this building. We must get to that truck before the other guards get there. That is the only way you will get out of here alive.”
“Where’s Joni? I’m not leaving without her.”
“Joe, you must trust me. I will bring her to you.”
“Fuck that! I’ll get her myself.”
“You’ll be dead before you find her. Trust me. I promise you I will bring her to you…if she is still alive.”
“What do you mean, ‘If she’s still alive?’ For your sake, you better pray she is.”
“Please Joe. Protect my Kitten until I return with your Joni. I hold you solely responsible for her as you do me for Joni.”
Joe looks at the armed man for a moment, obviously weighing his options. As a token of trust, Boche hands him the gun. “Get these people to safety Joe. I will save your precious Joni. Trust me.”
With that, Boche runs toward the stairwell and disappears. Kitten tries to rush after him but Joe and Gemma restrain the screaming girl.
Chapter 16
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to sit down and have breakfast with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought you may be hungry. Now sit down!”
The tone of authority in her voice can only come from one who is used to giving orders…and having them followed without question. I decide that this may be the only way to find out what is going on. I sit down across from her.
“Eat, child. You look famished.”
“Did you poison my food?”
The woman called Emma Fox crinkles her face in humorous disgust and reaches across the table and takes a bite of my food. “Satisfied? I’m not dead. Joe told me corn flakes with strawberries were your favorite breakfast. I hope you enjoy.”
“You were in that picture with Joe.”
“Yes. We had a marvelous evening. He is quite a lover. I may keep him around for a while.”
“I hate you.”
“Such harshness from one so young. Eat your breakfast, and then we will discuss hatred.”
I am hungry. I don’t want to, but I succumb and eat like I’m famished. I catch Emma watching me and I can’t help but think of a rabbit trapped by a rattlesnake’s stare. As I eat, she begins to talk.
“Of course you know by now that my name isn’t really Emma Fox. I think you’ve known that for sometime (actually, I haven’t). My name is really Jenn Peccavi. Does that name ring a bell with you?”
I think for a minute, but nothing comes to me, “No. Should it.”
“Well, yes it should. Twelve years ago you destroyed me. Now it’s time to return the favor (twelve years ago? What is this nutty bitch talking about?).”
“Twelve years ago? I don’t understand….” I say with a mouthful of cornflakes.
Emma, or Jenn, hasn’t taken her eyes off me. She is watching for any indication that I understand. But I really don’t.
“Yes. Twelve years ago I was very young, but very powerful. I was the head of a large empire in Florida, Texas, the Mississippi Gulf Coast, and parts of Tennessee and in Louisiana. I had to fight hard to gain what I had in New Orleans. But one day an…ahem…investigative reporter took it upon herself to expose me in the Times-Picayune. She called me a criminal. She made up baseless accusations of a vast network of drugs, prostitution and rackets. She accused me of ‘fixing’ several sporting events in the Southeast. She even exposed my propensity for violence. She somehow learned that I ran an underground combat network and liked to participate. She said I was very cruel to my opponents.” A wicked grin appears on her face, “I guess that much was true. I supposedly crippled her cousin.” She pauses for a moment to let me digest what she’s telling me.
“Well…did you?” I ask, now curious to see where this is going.
“Did I what?”
“Run a criminal empire? Did you cripple someone?”
“No.” She hesitates and drops her eyes for just a moment. “I’m no criminal. But yes to your second question.” She flashes that evil grin again.
I think for a moment, but I still can’t figure out how I play into any of this. Why am I here?
“That’s all very interesting, but what does it have to do with me?”
“Oh Joni, please don’t play coy with me. I don’t like games. Unless I’m the one playing them.”
“Really. I don’t understand,” I push my empty cornflake bowl away and look at her.
“You don’t? The Times-Picayune article that ruined me was written by Jonica Desjarlais.”
“That’s my name!”
“I know. You wrote it and then you disappeared. I was told that you went into hiding because of what I might do to you. But I knew it was you when I saw your name on that catfight website. I know your style. I’ve had twelve years to study it. I’ve watched for your byline for so long that I feared I might never find it. Fortunately, my passion for combat led me to that forum. As luck would have it, your story was the first thing I saw. I knew it was you from the very first sentence. Fate is on my side, mon cher.”
What is this crazy bitch talking about? I never wrote for the Times-Picayune. Especially not twelve years ago!
“I…I never wrote for a newspaper.”
She stares at me and the wicked grin never leaves her lips. She has the coldest eyes I have ever seen, and I’m beginning to really get scared. The expression on her face never changes while she picks up her heavy water glass and takes a deep drink.
“You can deny it all you want, nothing can change history…or your future. Now, you wanted to discuss hatred…..”
The smile never leaves her face and her eyes never stop sparkling as she releases the water glass and it slams into my forehead like a hammer.
Chapter 17
Joe finally manages to quiet the screaming kitten and head his little gang of misfits to the stairwell…it seems Boche disabled the elevator. Oh well, three stories isn’t too far to go, and Joe decides the stairs will probably be safer anyway. The five prisoners take up formation with Joe leading then Kayla and Marie keeping an eye on Kitten. Gemma wants to gag the young girl, but Joe says they don’t have time. Gemma brings up the rear (appropriate for her, don’t you think?)
As they edge closer to the second floor exit, the door opens and a guard rushes onto the landing. There is nowhere for the prisoners to escape and after a moment of hesitation, the guard opens fire with his pistol. Fortunately for Joe, Marie, Kitten and Gemma…the guard isn’t a very good shot. Unfortunately for Kayla, he doesn’t have to be a good shot as lead bounces off concrete and tends to ricochet. Fortunately for Marie, Kayla, Kitten and Gemma…Joe is a very good shot. Unfortunately for the guard, Joe doesn’t miss. The guard crumples to the floor just as Kayla screams out in pain.
Marie rushes to her lover’s side and gasps in horror when she sees blood appear on Kayla’s shoulder. “Please be ok, please, please, please….” She pleads.
Joe immediately checks the wound and hastily bandages it with a piece of cloth torn from Kitten’s t-shirt. He announces that it appears to be a clean wound, but she needs medical attention as soon as possible. But first, he has to get the group to the basement. With help from Gemma and Marie, he manages to get Kayla to her feet. She proudly comments that she is “fighter,” and she’ll be alright. But the pain and fear in her eyes belies her bravado.
Joe leads the group deeper into the depths of the building until they finally reach the landing marked parking garage. They walk through the doors and come face to face with Jessika and another guard. Both are armed and pointing their guns at the group.
“Aw damn, not now!” Gemma exclaims upon seeing her fierce rival. He body still aches from their last encounter. She does take pride in the fact that Jessika’s body still bears the evidence of their last encounter.
Chapter 18
The heavy drinking glass slams into my forehead and I recoil backwards, tumble out of the chair and land in a shower of glass, ice and very cold water. My hands raise to my forehead and I feel no blood, but before I can probe any farther, my hair is roughly grabbed and I’m half dragged off the porch and tossed onto the strange area that seemed so out of place on the roof a little while before. But as I land on the padded ground, the area’s purpose becomes crystal clear. It was designed for Emma’s “combat sports.”
Before I can explore the site any farther, my robe is yanked and torn until it is completely off of me. Now I’m left only in my blue thong. Emma…or Jenn…slowly removes her silk robe and reveals matching purple bra and panties. “I’ve waited a long time for this moment, Jonica Desjarlais. Welcome to your destiny.”
The brunette charges me and I manage to evade her first attack, but she soon has me cornered. I can’t flee. There’s nowhere to go. Every time I move, the four-armed guards form a barrier between me and any method of escape…except the roof’s edge. Now, I’m pretty dumb, but I’m not dumb enough to think I can fly. I turn and face the big, brunette bully. I believe I have a plan.
I’ve seen Gemma do this little maneuver several times. Heck, I’ve fallen victim to it at least three times. So why not give it a shot? I bet it works. Surely Jenn Peccavi isn’t that good a fighter. Facing my adversary head on, I strike out with my left fist. As it speeds toward her face, she easily blocks it…as I anticipated. I launch a hard underhand right fist toward her unprotected belly, but as it reaches the halfway point, her forehead slams into mine with a sickening ‘thud!’ As my head is jarred backwards, my entire body follows. I do a complete 180 in the air and land on my shoulder blades. The back of my head makes a second sickening ‘thud’ as it strikes the mat. The world goes black.
The pain briefly goes away, but comes roaring back in a torrent of ice cold water. I open my eyes and Jenn is standing over me with a second, now empty, water glass. Its contents are now splashed around my head. She laughs as she hands the glass back to a guard. “Oh my, this going to be easier than I thought. You are so weak. Too bad you can’t hide behind a keyboard now, isn’t it?”
I blink my eyes several times to remove the cold water, but I can’t believe how badly my head hurts. I sit up but a wave of nausea so intense hits me that I fear I may throw up. But I manage to keep my breakfast down as Jenn pulls me back to my feet by my hair again. I stagger a little and then she drives her fist deep into my exposed belly. I double up as sharp pain shoots all the way to my spine and I crumple to the floor while my tormentor laughs. “You’re so soft. Not so tough now, are you.” She kicks me in the side of the head and I collapse onto my side. “Fight back, you weak little bitch! I can’t believe you’re giving up this easy!”
My God! She is going to beat me to death and there is nothing I can do to stop her. Am I really this weak? Do I have no pride? No desire to live? I know I’ve let Joe down, but apparently he doesn’t care much for me any longer. I can’t fight for Gemma. She hates me. But that’s my fault too. I have no family left except an estranged sister. There is no one I can fight for. No one cares if I live or die. There’s just me. Only I don’t understand why I’m even here. I strike out with my heel and kick the laughing woman with a solid blow just below her kneecap. She yelps in shocked pain and falls onto her good knee beside me. For the first time today the smile leaves her face, and it is replaced by the most frightening visage of utter hatred I have ever seen. I’m sure if I somehow manage to survive, this look will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. She balances herself, forces her hand into the front of my panties, pinches what little hair I have (damn, I knew I should have shaved
) and yanks so hard my butt lifts off the ground. I squeal in shocked pain as she yanks and yanks. Finally, I feel the hair pull free and my butt flops back to the ground. I curl up in a sobbing, writhing ball and try to rub the burning, searing pain away. Behind me I hear giggling as Jenn asks for a clean towel. “Put this a bag. I want those for a memento.”
Over the course of the next few minutes I am subjected the most intense lesson in pain that I’ve ever felt. Jenn rolls me onto my back, straddles me and immobilizes me by pinning my arms to the floor with her knees and sitting on my chest. She proceeds to discuss her ‘hatred’ by pounding my face with her fists and hands. When she is finished, I’m pretty sure my nose is broken and one eye is swollen shut and the other has blood pouring into it from a cut on my eyebrow. I would lament on how I let myself get into this situation again, but I just hurt too damn bad. She grabs me by the hair and bangs my head off the floor. “Soon my dear Jonica Desjarlais, you’ll be begging me to go ahead and kill you.” With that, she stands up and stomps on my lower left leg until I’m pretty sure I heard a pop and I black out as the intense pain reaches my brain.
Chapter 19
The guard raises his weapon and orders Joe to drop his. Jessika and the guard obviously have the drop on him, but Joe knows he can’t let their escape bid die here. This is the only chance they’ll get. But before he can do anything rash, Jessika raises her pistol and slams it into the back of the armed guard’s head. The man pitchs forward then crumples to the floor unconscious. “I’ve got a long history with Kayla and Marie. I can’t let Emma kill you. Although I relish the though of destroying Marie and Gemma myself. Maybe someday, but now you need to get Kayla to safety.” Jessika then turns and flees back into the bowels of the building.
“C’mon, we’ve got to get Kayla out of here,” Joe says to the rest of the group. They stagger down a short hallway and into the main bay of the garage. Not knowing what to expect, they are relieved to find Storm and his van waiting. Freedom is close.
Storm gets out of the van and approaches the group with a huge smile on his face. Then it fades when he notices the blood on Kayla’s shoulder. Instead of wasting time asking what happened, he rushes to assist her. Turning to Joe, he asks, “How well do you know Houston?”
“I grew up here, why?”
“Okay, you drive. I’ve got some experience with gunshot wounds. I’ll stay in the back with her. We have to get as far from this place as we can.”
Joe nods his head in agreement. He assigns Gemma and Marie to assist Storm in the back of the van. Kitten will ride in the cab with him so she won’t be a nuisance. As everyone climbs in the vehicle, Joe takes one last look around wondering if he’ll ever see the woman he loves again. “Damn you Boche. You better not let me down.”
Joe gets into he driver’s seat and the van rockets out of the garage and into the hot, humid Houston afternoon. He points the vehicle eastward towards New Orleans.
Chapter 20
Once again I’m rescued from a hot world of darkness by a rush of ice-cold water. My tormentor is standing over me with a now empty glass for the second time. My God! What have I done to deserve this? But this is obviously my Purgatory. Soon I will probably die without ever understanding why.
I am roughly pulled to my feet again, but this time I don’t stop there. Jenn lifts me like a child (I can’t believe how incredibly strong this woman is) and slams my poor body across her outstretched knee. I gasp in shocked agony, but I hurt to badly to scream. Hell, I can’t even beg. Not that I would. No one cares about me. Joe’s with Gemma and he looked happy in the pictures. I plan on dying with dignity. But pride can only carry you so far….I whimper as Jenn slams my back across her knee a second time and I fear she may be trying to break it just like my leg.
Suddenly a popping noise can be clearly heard from deep inside the building. Jenn stops her torture for a moment and orders her guards to investigate. As they reach the door, more popping sounds arise. Jenn screams in anger as the men all throw down their weapons and flee the rooftop.
“Dammit why can’t anything go as planned! Come back you fucking idiots! Damn. You want something done right, then do it yourself.”
She walks over to a table and picks up a wireless radio. She speaks into it briefly but gets no reply. Her agitation increases as she looks back at me. “I guess it’s time to end this little game, mon cher.” She picks up a baseball bat and approaches me.
I struggle onto my knees and raise my head expecting the impending fatal blow. “Twelve years ago, huh?”
“Twelve years ago. You signed your death warrant the day that article was published.”
“Okay. But it wasn’t me.”
“There’s no reason to lie, Jonica Desjarlais. Die with a little honor, please.”
“I’m serious. It wasn’t me. I was still in high school twelve years ago. No newspaper would have hired me.”
My words sound hollow when spoken through mashed lips and a broken nose. But they ring of truth. I couldn’t have written that article. With my one eye still open, I see the truth finally sink in on my adversary. She now realizes I’m the wrong Jonica Desjarlais.
“You were in high school?”
“I started a year late because my parents thought I was too immature to start at five.”
“It wasn’t you?”
“No. You have the wrong girl.”
Chapter 21
As the sun descends from the sky at their back, a large white van speeds toward the Texas-Louisiana stateline. The only occupants are Joe, Gemma and Kitten. Kayla was dropped off at a Beaumont hospital along with Marie and Storm, both of whom refused to leave her side. A phone call from Storm later revealed that the injury was only a flesh wound and would leave no permanent injury. After that news, Gemma collapsed into a heap and slept like the dead in the back of the van. Joe still hasn’t heard any news about Joni, and he’s quickly losing hope.
“Do you think I’ll ever see Boche again?”
“I don’t know, Kitten.”
“I miss him.”
“I know, Kitten. You’ve said that a hundred times already….but why? He leads you around on a leash.”
“Maybe I like that, asshole! You ever think about that?”
“You like being lead around on a leash?” Joe asks, incredulously.
“Maybe.”
“Boche’s a fucking animal! He treats you like shit, and you like it? Are you insane?”
“Most likely. But please don’t talk about Boche like that! He saved my life! I’m his Kitten! If it wasn’t for him I’d probably still be dancing on poles and using meth. He saved my life! People treat me with respect when he’s around. They look at me with respect! I can go to nice places with him. He treats me like a lady when there’s no one around. You don’t know! I like showing the world I belong to him! I’m happy because of him! I’m healthy because of him! Why not be his pet?”
The young girl collapses against the door and cries. Joe rolls his eyes and says, “I’m sorry Kitten. I was out of line.”
“Will you take care of me if he doesn’t come back?”
“I don’t know, Kitten. I need to find Joni.”
“Boche said he’d bring her back, didn’t he. He will! But I don’t think his future plans include me.”
“What are his plans, Kitten?”
“I don’t know if I should tell you.”
“And you want me to take care of you? Welcome back to the streets.”
“He’d kill you if you did that. You gave him your word.”
“I guess I did. You’ll be taken care of. But now you owe me something. What are his plans?”
“He’s going to kill Emma Fox and take over her empire.”
“Her empire?”
“She runs a vast crime network stretching from Miami to El Paso. She has stuff in the Caribbean and Australia too.”
“Impossible. I’m a cop. The last woman in New Orleans who had that much power was Jenn Peccavi, but she disappeared ten years, or so, ago.”
“Peccavi! That’s the name Boche kept mentioning!”
“Emma Fox is Jenn Peccavi?”
“Yes! That’s it!”
Joe’s heart sinks when this news hits him. Now he has real reason to believe he may never see Joni again. Emma Fox is Jenn Peccavi. Unbelievable!
Kitten tires of the conversation after a while and tries to lay her head on Joe’s shoulder, but he pushes her away. Soon she curls up in a ball on the front seat and falls asleep. Before he knows it, the sleeping girl has her head in his lap. He is astounded when he notices her soft breathing sounds just like a cat purring. He softly stokes her hair just to keep her purring.
Chapter 22
“You were still in high school?” The realization hits home and Emma Fox…aka Jenn Peccavi…can just repeat this same line over and over…..
“Yes.” It hurts to talk, but I manage it pretty well. “I was still in high school.”
“The Times-Picayune would never hire a high school student as an investigative reporter. Were you named after your mother?”
“No.”
“Grandmother?”
“No.”
“Aunt? Uncle? Any family member?”
“I was named after my grandfather. His name was Jon Thibodaux.”
After a minute of reflection, the woman formerly known as Emma Fox turns pale as a ghost. “I did all of this to you….and you’re the wrong person?”
“Afraid so.”
“OH MY GOD, child! What have I done?”
“So? You can let us go now?”
“Absolutely not! Not now!”
“But….why not?”
“Well, for one thing, you know too much to be left alive. For another, that smart mouth of yours would drive a nun to murder. I can’t let you live.”
My heart sinks as my last ray of hope flickers. I steel myself for the inevitable. Surely it will come soon. I guess I was ready for it a little while back. I mean, who is there left to care whether I live or die. Joe certainly doesn’t. He can live his life out with his little English whore. I lower my head and softly weep.
“But you know, Jonica Desjarlais, I’m a sporting woman. Since I made a mistake, it would be unfair if I didn’t give you some sort of chance. I guess you’ve earned it.”
I hear the sound of the baseball bat clatter to the floor and I think, “Oh great, she’s going to beat me to death with her hands. Yippee!” But that isn’t what she has in mind.
“Your friends are still alive. Look and see where the bat is. Go on, look up at it. Good. That isn’t very far. If you can get to it before I do, you can still win. If you win, your friends will be spared. But if you lose…..” She smiles that wicked grin again, “This is your only chance. I will tell my crew what I just told you.” And she keyed the radio and did just that. Now, Joni, what is your choice?”
The bat is only about three yards away. Not too far. But I can’t breathe through my nose, my back hurts, and my leg is possibly broken. I have no chance. She’ll be on me before I can even touch the bat. I’m going to die on a rooftop in Houston on a hot, humid summer afternoon. There are storm clouds forming to the west. But I most likely won’t live long enough to see the lightening. Three yards is an eternity. My eternity. Then I see the third option. I spring off the floor toward the open door. Jenn face turns to a mask of shock when she sees where I’m headed and she staggers off balance to stop me. Just as she blocks my path to the door, I push off my injured left leg…and yelp in pain…change direction and dive toward the bat. I see Jenn stare for a moment in disbelief and launch herself towards me and the bat. I dive and my fingers touch the hard, round wooden surface just as her body crashes into mine……..
Chapter 23
….Joe walks along the lonely beach always looking for the one he lost. Movement from the water catches his eye and he looks and sees a laughing blonde playfully beckoning him to her. It is the one he loves. He rushes toward her and as he gets closer the setting sun brightly lights her hair and illuminates her in an aura of golden light. Then she’s gone. He looks wildly around, but there is no sign of her. She is gone again. He looks at the shore and drops to the sand and weeps when he notices that his are the only footprints in the sand…..
Joe sits up in bed covered in a cold sweat. The damp sheets are a tangled mess at his feet. He takes a moment to realize where he is, and why he’s there.
“You miss it, don’t you?” Gemma softly asks rising up on his left, placing a warm hand on his chest.
After a moment of recollection, Joe replies, “Yes, I do. I can’t believe it’s over.”
“Me neither. You know, I really miss the fun. The excitement! That stupid bitch could sure get people riled up!”
“Oh God, don’t I know! She was a professional troublemaker. Damn, I miss that!”
“But are your other needs taken care of? Could she do this?
Gemma runs her hand down his chest and belly and into his boxer shorts. They both playfully giggle and wrestle for a moment.
“Yeah, she could get me pretty excited.”
“Like me?”
“There’s no one quite like you, Gems.”
“You got that right! Come over here and let me help you forget all about her.”
“Okay!”
Finally, I had enough of this nonsense! I rise up from Joe’s right side and say, “You two know I can hear everything you’re saying right?”
“Hey Joe, she is awake! How the hell are you, babes?”
“Fuck you, slut! Get your hands off my man!”
“Make me, you fucking wimp!”
“You bitch! Let go of my hair!”
“Ow, slag! Don’t slap me!
Joe watches the action over him with a pleased smile on his face.
“Can I play, too?”
Gemma and I both yell, “Hell no Kitten! Go lay down!”
“Screw both you bitches!”
“Stop staring at us, you weird little whore!” I yell and throw a pillow at her. She curls up on her blanket in the corner and says, “Thanks, bitch.”
“Don’t slap me Joni!”
“Ugh, fuck Gemma, that punch hurt!”
“Then let go of my hair, you cunt!”
“Fuck you!”
“Yes,” Joe thinks as he lays his head back against the headboard, “Life is certainly good.”
“Let go of my tit, bitch!”
“I’m gonna rip it off, you fucking dyke!”
“You’re just jealous because mine are bigger, whore!”
“Yeah, well my snatch is cleaner, you nasty cunt!”
Epilogue
Late one summer night, a mysterious woman was dropped off at a Houston emergency room with severe head injuries. Her survival was a miracle, but her memory seems to be lost on the hot, humid East Texas wind. She hasn’t spoken a word. All she can do is sit in her hospital bed and run four names over and over in her head. She sits in silence and dreams of the day she will get her revenge. The names roll over and over: Gemma…Joni…Kayla…Marie…Gemma…Joni…Kayla…Marie….
Me: The foolish little Cajun girl who can’t seem to stay out of trouble despite numerous beatings. Still hates Gemma worst of all, but others are quickly ascending her list.
Her: The tattooed slut from England who really can fight. She was forced to team with Joni for the fight of her life. She survived, and she still REALLY hates Joni. She and her fine butt still Rox!
Him: He's still with me…although I often wonder why. I haven’t seen him since he left for Texas to help Her in whatever her dumbass has gotten into. His name is still Joe.
Them: The duo of professional wrestlers hired to hurt me and her. The beat us pretty badly, but they ultimately failed in their mission. Of course they are the legendary team of Marie B and Kayla. Marie has a seething hatred for Joni, as well as a budding rivalry.
That Tall Mean Bitch: She was the Tall Announcer Woman in the Passionate Hatred series. Now she’s the mean bitch who really wants to make Gemma suffer. She is the lovely and humorous Jessika.
The Mysterious Bitch: Of course this would be the mysterious ‘Emma Fox.’ The driving force behind all this foolishness. For some reason, she really dislikes Me and Her. We have no clue why, but we soon find out. She is played by our favorite moderator, the lovely Jenn Peccavi…who we really hope has a sense of humor
Emma’s Right Hand Man: Emma’s most trusted emissary. We thought he was unbiased throughout our fights with Kayla and Marie B. We were very wrong. Although he still may have his own agenda. He is the sexy Canadian, Boche.
The Guy Always Lurking in the Shadows: Stormbolt7 has shown up on occasion, and he even promoted a couple of Our encounters. Will we ever find out what is motivating him? We probably wouldn’t have a story if we didn’t.
Kitten: The strange girl Boche claims he “owns.” She quickly becomes a pain in my butt.
Chapter 1
Hi! My name is Joni. I know I have told the earlier stories in a strange script-like format, but I thought I’d change this one up a little and go to a narrative script. I like changing things (just not my eyeliner. Please don’t ask why). It keeps me on my toes. Kind of like when I round a corner and nearly walk into a light post…that kind of ‘on my toes.’
The tale I’m about to share is completely true…If you believe in fantasies, that is. It’s kind of like a trip to Neverland. Except we all get old here. Especially Gemma. You should see the bags under that bitch’s eyes. Too much drinking and not enough sleep, I guess. Stupid cunt.
Oh well, back to the story. This particular day I was sitting at my computer desk…hoping for word from Joe and Gemma…surfing lingerie sites on the web when this mysterious voice told me I have mail. Whenever the voice tells me this, I immediately freeze as cold chills run up my spine! After a moment, I look around the room, but I never find whoever tells me I have mail. I check the house, but I never find anyone. I walk out to the mailbox, and I find it empty. The voice always lies to me. But strangely enough, I go back to the computer and find that someone has sent me a message. Weird, huh? I click on the message icon, and I shake my head and sigh…some one is addressing me as ‘Stupid Bitch’ again.
Dear Stupid Bitch,
Since I haven’t taunted you in a while (it’s true…she hasn’t) I thought I would drop in and torment you a little today. It’s finally time that we meet. (Ugh…I don’t want to meet this nutty whore). I’ve sent you a little present. I REALLY hope you enjoy it!
Love,
Emma
xxx
PS….I really can’t wait to see you bloody and broken at my feet. I’m wet just typing those words…..
Of course there’s an attachment with message, but I decide not to open it. I just click out and go back to my underwear website. I buy myself a cute little red nighty because I’m so distraught over Emma’s last message. Joe and his credit card will understand.
A few minutes later I get up to get something to drink. As I’m walking back from the kitchen, I hear that strange voice again! “You’ve got mail!” Using my catlike reflexes (in reality I nearly pee myself and almost fall through a closet door, but I like my version of events better), I turn quickly around charge through the house looking for the mysterious messenger. Of course the house is empty…and so is the outside mailbox. Damn lying motherfucker! But when I get back to the computer, I notice I have a new message. I shake my head but I open it anyway.
Hello again, Bitch,
Since you most likely didn’t open the last attachment I sent you, I decided to send another. But before you open it, maybe you should ask yourself where your boyfriend, his name is Joe, I believe, really is at tonight. He is with your little nemeses Gemma, isn’t he?
Sweet dreams, luv,
Emma
xxx
Oh God! What is this crazy bitch talking about now? I call Joe’s cell phone, but I get no response. That doesn’t concern me…he usually calls back within twenty minutes, or so. But after twenty minutes, he hasn’t responded. I try again. No response. I shake my head again, and decide to open Emma’s attachment.
It takes a few seconds for the download to complete, but I know what the image is before it fully loads. It’s obvious. I’ve seen those tattoos before. The image is of Gemma engaged in a passionate kiss with my boyfriend. He has her lifted in his arms and he’s holding her like a child.
Chapter 2
I want your ugly
I want your disease
I curse. I throw things. I cry. I scream. Then I sob. “How could he do this to me?” I want to just curl up and die. This is the man I love! And he’s with the woman I hate the worst! “How can you do this to me, Joe? How? Why? Oh God…..”
I remember the first attachment. I know I shouldn’t, but I have to open it. I find it and click on it. It takes another minute to download….same hotel room. Same Joe. Different woman. This time it’s the fucking midget Canadian gymnast whore! I cry more. “Why Joe? Why with the two women I hate worst in the world?”
After a while, I compose myself and I remember an item Joe leaves in the computer desk. I slide the drawer open, and there it is. I remove the wicked looking silver instrument and slowly raise it to my temple. No. Not good enough. I open my mouth and slide it in. I nearly gag on the taste of gun oil and burnt gunpowder. I lower the pistol onto the desk and cry more. Then I realize the gun isn’t for me. Not yet anyway. I remove the magazine and then the bullets. I name one “Gemma.” The next one I name “Marie.” The third one is called “Joe.” The fourth “Kayla” (I know I won’t be able to get to Marie without going through her). The next nine are for whomever gets in my way. The next to last one I name “Emma.” I call the last one in the magazine “Joni.”
Chapter 3
I want your horror
I want your design
‘Cause you’re a criminal
As long as your mine
Over the next few hours I get several more images from the mysterious Emma Fox. All the messages are taunting. The images become more detailed and lurid with each attachment. I become fascinated with how far Marie and contort her supple body! I’d be really impressed if that wasn’t my man the little cunt was fucking! The images of Joe with Gemma don’t make things any better. Although I learn that she likes it doggy style while bent over furniture. “I”LL KILL THAT GODDAMN WHORE!!!!!”
I run from the house and out to my car. I speed down the street like a drunken Nascar driver. I drive erratically, but I know where I’m headed. I have my Berretta 9mm by my side. I know the hotel the pictures with Marie B. were taken in. It’s the Omni Royal Orleans. The place Joe likes to take me when we spend late nights in the Quarter. As a matter of fact, it’s the same room. Joe calls it “our suite.” That fucking BASTARD!!!
I reach the hotel without running anyone down, although there were some close calls on Canal. I double park and storm into the hotel. Once inside I’m stopped quickly by security. Obviously there is a protocol for handling angry women tromping down the corridor with a loaded 9mm. Apparently I wasn’t the first to do it. After being thrown to the ground and handcuffed…threatened with pepper spray after biting a guard…and finally threatened with a taser by an off-duty NOPD officer, I was lead to the security office. But before we get there, an oddly familiar voice stops the guards and inquires as to why I’m handcuffed. After a few minutes of haranguing and bickering, the guards decide to release me to the man, who tells them I’m his sister. Of course no one believes him, but they decide to let me go. The hotel management doesn’t want things that should be handled discreetly to wind up in the morning Times-Picayune. Of course they won’t give my gun back…even after I bat my baby blues at them. Assholes! How can they take it away from me after I named the bullets?!!!
“We need to get out of here before they change their minds.” My mysterious benefactor says after I compose myself.
I know I’ve seen him before, and I know where. He was the referee for four of the five fights with Kayla and Marie. He’s a tall, very handsome guy, but in my anger I can’t remember his name. He seemed to be unbiased, and he was always trying to do what was right. I agree that we should leave.
He walks me to my car just as Joe’s Wrecker Service (isn’t that fucking ironic!) tows it from its double-parked spot and toward an address on Airline Highway. I sit on the curb and cry.
Chapter 4
This used to be a Funhouse
But now it's full of evil clowns
It's time to start the countdown
I'm gonna burn it down
The man who saved me from a night in jail reminded me that he is called Boche. He offers to drive me home, if I’d agree to explain why I came to the Omni Royal Orleans with a loaded gun and an attitude. Since he already knows most of the story anyway, and because I’m an emotional wreck wanting to tell someone, I fill in the rest of the details.
My emotions are completely drained by the time we get home. My passionate hatred for Gemma has now reached a crescendo. My anger at Joe is about to explode with unbridled fury. Boche can tell by the look on my face that something stupid is about to happen.
“Let me drive you somewhere. Maybe to a friend or relative’s house? You don’t need to be alone.”
I stare angrily at the front of my house. The one I shared with Joe for so many wonderful years. All that time flashes through my mind, and the incredulous circumstances that lead to this moment overcome me….this is all my fault. I collapse into his arms and weep when this realization hits me.
If only I had kept my mouth shut that night so long ago in Cardiff, Wales. I would have never met Gemma Rox. Nor would Joe. We would still be living our quiet, mundane lives here in the suburbs. Damn her! Damn her! Damn her! Boche has to restrain me from going into the garage and retrieving a jug of gasoline. I want to burn this fucker down.
Chapter 5
Nine….eight….seven….six, five, four….three….two….one…FUN!
Boche successfully wrestles the gas can and matches from my grasp, and I collapse against him once again. I cry harder and struggle to get free, but he refuses to let me go. I punch and kick to no avail. He calmly strokes my hair and whispers that things will work themselves out. I finally give up my struggles, but I can’t resist pressing my body deep into his and kissing him with all the passion I have left in my spent psyche. We enter the house and I have my first taste of revenge for the sins committed against me. At the time it felt so right. Take that, Joe! You motherfucker. Then I stared at the wall and regretted the last hour for the rest of the night.
“I can take you to her.”
I lie on my side staring at the bedroom wall as those words rattle around in my head. Finally, I ask whom he is talking about. He replies, “Emma Fox.”
I slowly sit up and turn toward him. “How do you know her? I thought everyone involved in those fights were hired by Jessika.”
“I have worked for Emma Fox for years. I am, how would you say? Her right-hand man.”
If he had hit me with a hammer, I wouldn’t have been more stunned! I scramble to my feet, and say in a deep, growling voice, “You asshole! What do you want with me?”
“Nothing that you don’t want for yourself.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You want to find Emma. You also want revenge on Gemma and your man. Am I not right?”
I stare at him for a moment, my anger rapidly leaving but a residual burn takes its place.
“I can take you to her.”
“Where is she?”
“I can take you there.”
“When?”
“Now, if you like.”
“Let’s go.”
“Are you sure you want to meet her?”
“Of course. This is the tenth story written in her honor. Who wouldn’t?”
“She really hates you. You should run as far away from her as you can.”
“Fuck that! What’s the worst that could happen?”
“You really don’t want me to answer that. The worst is actually what she has planned for you.”
“She knows I’m coming?”
“Of course. I was sent her to bring you back. Luckily, you came to me and saved me a great deal of work.”
“You fucking asshole! You seduced me!”
“Some might say that you seduced me. Now get in the car.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere with you! You bastard!”
He bats his big green eyes and persuades me to get into the car, although I think it has more to do with the small pistol he pulled out of his pocket that his gorgeous eyes.
We leave that afternoon for Houston, Texas…for what he calls, “My meeting with destiny.”
Chapter 6
She say never have I known it when it felt so good
Never have I knew it when I knew I could
Never have I done it when it looked so right
Leaving Louisiana in the broad daylight
Driving westward I-10 across the southern part of the state always fills me with wonder when I look out at the vast beauty of my home state. I fight off an overwhelming urge to cry as we leave the state and cross into Texas. An ominous feeling that I may never see the Mississippi draining into the Gulf ever again almost take my breath away. I fight off the urge to cry and we head toward the urban ugliness that is Houston.
We arrive in the city at rush hour. Isn’t it always rush hour in Houston? I’d leave this fucking place too if I had to live here. It’s almost as bad as the ghetto that is Memphis, Tennessee. But that’s for another story. We drive into a grimy industrial area until we come to a dark, looming multi-story building. It is grimy and unwelcoming but we drive through a large open door and deep into its bowels. Boche parks the car and asks me to follow him to an elevator. I don’t argue, because once again he has his little gun in his hand. We ride up to the building’s third floor, where we exit and walk down a short, dimly lit hallway to a closed door. Using a key he removes from his pocket, Boche opens the door. He urges me to lead the way in. I enter but quickly stop and Boche walks into me and nearly knocks me to the floor. Standing in the middle of the room are Gemma and Joe. Gemma is in his arms. At least they have their clothes on.
“YOU GODDAMN WHORE!!!! I scream at Gemma and start to rush her, but a strong arm wraps itself around my throat and a white cloth with a foul smelling odor encompasses my mouth and nose. I struggle and writhe, but to no avail. I quickly go limp and dream of frogs being dissected in a laboratory.
Chapter 7
“You son of a bitch! What did you do to her?!!!” Joe exclaims as he watches the woman he loves slide to the floor at Boche’s feet. His bonds keep him from rushing Boche, but he tries anyway and crashes to the floor bringing Gemma down on top of him. After falling, he says, “This was your plan all along? To let her see us tied together?”
“Oh no my friend, she didn’t see your bindings. All she saw was you and the English girl in an embrace.”
I’m gonna kill you, motherfucker…” Joe growls as a laughing Boche walks from the room carrying an unconscious Joni on his shoulder.
“Well, I guess that bitch is really going to hate me now.” Gemma says with a grunt as Joe helps her to her feet.
“She already hates you for some reason.”
“You know why she hates me.”
“Yeah, but I don’t understand the reason.”
“Do you understand anything that ignorant cunt does?”
“Gemma, please.”
“I’m sorry Joe. I know you love her, but she dragged me into this. None of this would have happened if she had left well enough alone that night Metros.”
“God….that was so long ago. It seems like ages.”
“When this is over I’m going to break her fucking neck, Joe.”
“Please don’t. She means well. She really does have a good heart. It’s just that she….she….uh….gets so damned determined. Then there’s trouble.”
“She didn’t have to drag me into her trouble though.”
“I know, Gemma. But it’s kind of odd that you keep popping up. You beat her up pretty badly the first time. You had nothing else to prove. Why do you keep coming back?”
Gemma stares at the ground wistfully for a few moments and then replies, “You know, I really can’t answer that. I can’t believe I’m about to say this….but I think I really care about her. I can’t explain why, but I really do. I never had this kind of excitement in my life before she walked into Metros that night. It’s been like a crazy merry-go-round since then. And I really like you…..”
Joe softly lowers his forehead onto hers and sighs, “Hopefully this will all be over soon. I wish they would untie us.”
Chapter 8
If you open your mind to me,
You won’t rely on open eyes to see
I lie in a peaceful slumber, my head resting on warm, alabaster stone. A soft breeze riffles through my unkempt blonde hair and his soft finger tips gently caress my cheek.
I open my eyes and I realize that unless Boche or Joe paint their toenails, then the warm, alabaster stone my head is resting on is a pair of legs belonging to another girl. I’m in a room, so there are no soft breezes and the girl who is cradling my head in her lap is stroking my cheek and playing with my hair. She has cute red toenails….
“Gemma?” I softly ask.
“What the fuck did you call me?” A laughing voice asks.
My eyes fly open and I roll of the couch and onto the floor when I realize I know that voice! “Marie?”
“Kayla…she thought I was that tattooed whore!”
I look around and see that I’m in a hotel room…an Omni Royal Orleans hotel room! Marie is sitting on the couch and Kayla is sitting on the edge of a bed coyly leering at me with a smirk on her face. Then it hits me that this is the same room the images of Marie and Joe came from. I call Marie a “fucking bitch” and rush at her but Kayla comes off the bed like a flash and grabs me around the waist and throws me onto the bed. Marie sits on the couch and laughs. But they don’t attack me. I wonder why….
“I enjoyed those nights with your man. He liked them too.” Marie stares at me with an evil grin on her face. “Maybe you can join in next time.”
I scramble off the bed and rush her again, but Kayla is there to stop me just like last time. I wind up face down on the bed.
“We are under strict orders not to hurt you.” Kayla says. “If we weren’t, you’d probably be face down and ass up by now. …Tee hee!”
“What orders?” I ask incredulously.
“Emma’s orders. We don’t get paid if we don’t follow them. We like getting paid. But don’t worry, you’ll end up wiggling your cute little butt for us soon enough.”
I stare at Kayla a moment, and then I look at Marie. She is being awfully quiet….just sitting and staring at me. I want to claw her fucking eyes out, but something about her demeanor makes my stomach flutter. God…I’d love to feel our bodies pressed together again….but then I want to strangle her too….
“Why did they have to put me in here with you two?” I wonder out loud.
“Why not with us? It’s not like we don’t know each other intimately,” Kayla says with a snicker.
I turn red from embarrassment and shake my head. “What is this all about?”
“Emma hates you. We didn’t finish the job she sent us to do, so she plans on finishing it herself.”
“Which is?”
“Tee hee….we can’t tell you.”
“Fucking bitch,” I mumble under my breath.
“Yes, I am. And if you survive this day, I promise you’ll soon see how much of a bitch I can be. I’m going to wipe you from Marie’s memory one day soon.”
I glance at Marie and notice that it’s now her turn to blush.
The door to the room opens and in walks Boche. He points at me and orders me into the adjoining room. Of course I refuse, so he grabs me by the hair and pulls me through the door. Strangely enough, neither Kayla nor Marie laughed at my misfortune. A glimpse of Marie’s face showed just a touch of sadness.
Boche flings me across the room by my hair and I crash to the floor. He turns on the overhead light and I see this is a bedroom. I scramble to my feet saying, “No…no…no…no…no….” over and over. I climb over a chair and kneel down behind it as if I can hide.
“Joni, I’m not here for that. Nor am I here to hurt you. Right now I’m following orders.
“Following orders, my ass! You seduced me once.”
“Don’t play games with Emma Fox…nor with me…Joni. You will not win. Ms Fox left you a little present on your pillow.” Boche says, and then leaves the room, locking the door behind him.
I watch the door close and I wonder to myself how I ever got into this situation. I should have listened to Joe from the start. I sigh and look to my pillow for my “present.” I expect to find an angry black mamba. Instead I find another photograph. This time it’s Joe and a beautiful, older brunette. I bury my face in the pillow and sob.
Chapter 9
After leaving Joni alone in her room and warning Kayla and Marie…once again…to not bother her, Boche leaves the room and walks down a long corridor to his own quarters. He walks through his apartment and onto the balcony. Using his cell phone he calls a number and says, “Storm. This is Boche. All is going as planned. The blonde is locked in her room. Kayla and Marie are aware of the situation. If we can keep Marie from killing the blonde herself, then we may just be able to get them all out alive. Ms Fox arrived earlier this evening. She came alone. She had me drug the blonde’s boyfriend again and take his picture with her. I left the photo on Joni’s bed. We must move early, if we are to save all of them. I fear for the blonde, though. If Emma kills her quickly, then we may not have a chance. I’ll call you in the morning.” Boche hangs up the call and prepares for a long, sleepless night. There is much to be done.
Across town, the man known as Storm signs off on his end of the call. Now it is his time to make preparations. He has been waiting for this moment for a long time.
Chapter 10
“So what do you think is going to happen to us?” Gemma asks Joe as they prepare for another long night of fear and unspoken sexual tension. Joe ponders the question for a minute then says, “I really don’t know, Gemma. But it’s not looking good. If only I could get some idea, or maybe find out who this Emma Fox woman is….”
“I hate being cooped up like chickens waiting for the slaughter.”
“I know. This sucks, first chance I get, I’m going to try and get us out.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Where did they take you earlier today?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You came back reeking of perfume.”
“Yeah….I know.”
“Joni caught it to. She thinks we’re having an affair.”
“I know. It’s killing me. I wish I knew where she is. We’ve got to get her out of here. It seems like that Fox woman really has it in for her.”
“She doesn’t like any of us.”
“I know. I wish I knew why, though.”
“Maybe we’re about to find out…..” Gemma replies as the door opens and Boche and two henchmen walk in.
“Get up, Joe.”
“Fuck you, Boche.”
“Okay….I was going to take you to see your little girlfriend, but if that is your attitude about seeing her….”
“Okay, okay. But someday you and me are going to have a long talk.”
“I relish the thought, sir.”
Joe is led out into the corridor and down a long hallway. They stop outside a door leading to a room just like the one he shares with Gemma. It’s funny how they remind him of rooms at the Omni Royal Orleans Hotel back in New Orleans. “What is this all about,” he thinks to himself.
Boche and the guards lead him into the room, and Joe is stunned to notice that Kayla and Marie B are on the bed pleasuring themselves. They never acknowledge the men’s presence. Boche unlocks an enter door and says to Joe, “You have ten minutes. Make the most of it.” Then he switches on the light. Joni is sitting up in bed resting her head on the headboard. She jolts awake when the light hits her eyes.
Chapter 11
“Joe?”
“I’m here, baby.” Joe rushes to the bed and we embrace. I bury my face in his chest and hold him tight as he tells me how much he missed me. I hold him as tight as possible but then I open my eyes and see the picture that was left on my pillow.
“Who is she Joe?”
“Who?” He asks, confused.
“The woman with you. Who is she?”
He stares at me in bewilderment for a moment and I shove the picture into his face. He stares at it and says, “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”
“Joe, I’ve seen some other pictures. Of you and Gemma, and ones of you and Marie. The ones with Marie were taken at the Omni Royal Orleans.” I say as tears stream down my cheeks.
“No way Joni. That isn’t possible. They’re forged. They have to be. Didn’t you notice that the room they’re holding me in looks just like a suite at the Omni Royal Orleans. Maybe they drugged us…..”
“None of you looked drugged. Oh Joe…..” I begin weeping harder.
“You’re hiding something from me, Joni. What is it? You can tell me.”
“You bastard!” I hit him in the chest. “You FUCKING BASTARD!”
“Joni, stop. Talk to me. Please?” Joe implores as I bury my face in a pillow.
“I hate myself, Joe.”
“What did you do? You slept with someone else, didn’t you? Who was it?” Joe says, getting to his feet.
The door to the room opens and Boche walks in with two armed guards. For a moment my eyes lock with Boche’s….and Joe knows.
“Joe….NO!!!” Before I can stop him, Joe runs at Boche and knocks him to the floor. As Boche falls, the two guards immediately attack Joe, beating him to the floor with the butts of their shotguns. Boche orders them to stop, but not before Joe is lying next to him.
Boche gets to his feet, rubbing his aching chin, “I guess I deserve that one. The next one will cost you your life.”
“Fuck you. I’ll kill you when I get out of here.”
“Then it’s too bad you won’t be getting out of here. I would very much like another meeting with you. Guards, take him to his room.”
The guards escort Joe from the room, but before he leaves he looks at me and says, “I love you. I always will, Joni,” and then he was gone. I immediately get a deep; sorrow filled sinking feeling that I’ll never see him again. I bury my face in the pillow and weep again. Why has my life come to this? What have I done to deserve any of this? I know my mouth started a fight with Gemma way back in Cardiff that night. She beat me up. I deserved that. But why did that night have to bring on my total destruction? Maybe I’d be better off dead. I know those around me would be better off.
“Joni, you must trust me. I can get you out of this. I don’t want to see you die. Emma Fox plans on killing you herself tomorrow.”
I realize Boche is still in the room , and I can’t believe my ears! This asshole has tricked me, seduced me, chloroformed me, and tossed me across the room by my hair…and he wants me to trust him now?!!! “Are you insane?!!!!”
“Most likely. But I’m your only hope.”
“I don’t like my chances, then.”
“The odds are against you whether you trust me, or not. But we have to try. I can’t just sit back and let her kill you.”
“She wants to kill me? Why?” I ask in bewilderment.
“I really don’t know all the facts. But it is because of something that happened long ago. Something you did to her or her family.”
“What did I do? You’re lying, aren’t you?”
“Unfortunately, I’m not lying this time. You have to trust me. I’m your only hope.”
“Like I said, I don’t think I like my chances.”
“Suit yourself. I’m still going to try and save your miserable life. This is your bedroom. I suggest…no I demand….that you get cleaned up and go to bed. You will need all the rest you can get before tomorrow morning.”
“What’s tomorrow morning?”
“That is when Emma plans to kill you. The clothes you will wear for that meeting are on the dresser.”
“I’ll wear what I have on, thank you very much!”
“Then I will hold you down, strip you, and dress you myself. Don’t play games, Joni. As I told you, I am your only hope.”
“And as I told you, I don’t think I like my chances.”
“Then maybe I should lock Marie in here with you to ensure that Ms Fox’s orders are being followed?”
“No, I’ll take a bath and wear whatever that goofy bitch wants. I want to meet her too.”
"As I said before, Joni, don't play games with Emma Fox. You don't know what you're getting into."
"I'll take my chances."
Boche looks at me for a long moment with a hint of sadness. He sighs and turns as if to leave.
“I have a little surprise for you.”
“Enough surprises, Boche. I can’t take much more.”
“Then don’t look at it as a surprise. You have a roommate for the night. Wait just a minute and I’ll bring her in,” and he leaves the room.
“Oh hell, what now? Marie? Gemma? This is just what I need on the last night of my life, “ I think to myself.
Boche soon returns and to my great surprise, he isn’t with Gemma nor Marie. He is leading a gorgeous brunette by a leash. A leash attached to a leather-studded collar around her neck. My eyes register my shock as the brunette is led in. She can’t be over twenty years old and she looks like a model! Other than the collar she is clad only in a black t-shirt. The shirt can’t hide her curves, nor can it conceal the fact she isn’t wearing anything under it.
“This my dear Joni is my Kitten. She will keep you company tonight. Actually she will ensure that you don’t do anything stupid. Isn’t that right, Kitten?”
The young girl smiles as he says, “Kitten,” and she answers with a giggle.
“Don’t let anything happen to my Kitten, Joni. I hold you responsible for her tonight,” Boche says as he unlatches the leash and then leaves the room. The click of the lock sounds like a gunshot.
I shake my head in disbelief at this turn of events. I look toward my new roommate just as she launches herself at me, slamming us both onto the bed. She wraps her fists in my hair, wrenches my head back and forth, the whole time screaming, “He’s mine, you filthy bitch,” over and over…..
My immediate shock turns to anger and it wells up from deep in the fiery pits of Hell. I unload all my frustration on this girl even though she is at least three inches taller than me and ten pounds heavier.
But my shock soon returns after only a couple punches. The girl scrambles off me, runs to the corner, and she hides behind a chair. “Don’t hurt me! Please don’t hurt me!” She implores in a tearful voice.
Chapter 12
“What the hell is wrong with you? You attack me and then beg me to stop….before I even get started?”
“Please don’t hurt me!”
“I’m going to kick your stupid ass, bitch!”
I rush around the chair she’s hiding behind, but she flees across the room and tries to scramble under the bed. I grab her by the ankle and pull her back. Once again, to my surprise, she pushes herself off the floor and wraps her arms around my head. Before I know what is happening, she’s behind me choking me.
“I want to kill you, Bitch! Boche told me all about your little night together in great detail. He’s mine. All mine.”
I start gasping for air but she releases me and flings me to the floor.
“But I can’t kill you. I was ordered not to touch you. Please don’t hurt me.”
I’m simply stunned at this turn of events! She could have broken my neck. She obviously knows how. But here she is begging for mercy again. “Who’s orders?”
“Boche’s.”
“Why?”
“Because he doesn’t want Emma Fox to kill me in your place.”
“That’s mighty humane of him.”
“Fuck you, bitch! Don’t bad mouth him! He’s good to me!”
“He leads you around on a leash.”
“(giggles) I know….”
“Are you insane?”
“Most likely. (giggles)”
“That was a stupid question. Everyone here is insane. Including me.”
I lower my head and prepare for bed, although I’m pretty sure I won’t be sleeping tonight.
“Stop staring at me.”
“Where do you want me to sleep?”
“Kittens sleep on the floor.”
“But it’s cold on the floor!”
“Too bad.”
“Fucking bitch. Can I at least have a blanket?”
“Take the comforter.”
“A pillow?”
“Don’t press your luck.”
“Bitch.”
“Yep.”
I lie on the bed and wrap myself in the sheets. I can’t stop thinking about Joe. Maybe he was set up. The feeling is right. I just can’t imagine him cheating on me willfully. I own him….just like Boche owns Kitten. I rise up and throw the spare pillow at her with all my might. It catches her in the face as she is stretching on her little pallet just like a fucking cat. She grunts when the pillow hits her and says, “Thanks, bitch.”
Eventually I drift off into a fitful, dreamless sleep. I awake to bright sunlight streaming through the cracks in the drapes. Kitten is curled up on the bed beside me. Her body pressed against mine. Her soft snoring reminds me of a content cat’s purring.
Chapter 13
The man called Storm parks a large van across the street from a seemingly abandoned warehouse. He gets out of the van and crosses the street and hides in an alcove where no watchers can see him. He removes a cell phone and dials a number he remembers by heart. “May I speak to Emma Fox, please?”
“Mr. Storm. I must congratulate you on your hard work. All is going according to plan.”
That voice. That exotic, sexy voice. Storm thinks to himself. Too bad it’s attached to this crazy bitch.
“I just wanted to make sure you were happy with the results, Ms. Fox. When can I expect Kayla and Gemma to be freed?”
“You can pick up Kayla at the specified location as soon as I have finished with the blonde. I will keep the tattooed English girl. She is next on my list after the blonde. I will compensate you with the Kayla’s little girlfriend. Jessika has indicated she has no further need for her.”
“But I was expecting the English girl as compensation.”
“You feel you are being treated unfairly?”
Storm knows this is the dangerous part of the operation. If he becomes too pushy, she may just kill them all and flee before his plan has time to work. He has to make sure Boche’s plan is followed to the letter.
“Of course not, Ms. Fox. Marie will be more than adequate as compensation.”
“Very good. I will have someone call you as soon as I’m finished with the blonde. Goodbye, and very, very good work.”
The man known as Storm ends the call and says a short prayer for “the blonde.” Chances are no one can save her. Although Boche has promised to try like hell.
Another quick call…this time to Boche. The message is simply, but decisive, “The time is here.”
Chapter 14
Kitten and I lie in our warm bed for a little while until we are jarred awake by a loud pounding on the door.
“I hope you are both decent. I am coming in,” Boche says from the doorway. “Ahhh, my beautiful Kitten! You did well. I’m so proud of you!”
I nearly throw up as she gets to her knees and nuzzles against her ‘master.’ What a gross display! She is actually purring and giggling now.
“Go to your room, Kitten. Do what I told you to do last night. You remember, yes?”
The girl says she does and then scampers from the room like a child. I turn to Boche, “What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you treat that poor girl that way?”
“Ahhh, my lovely Joni! I never would have guessed you are a humanitarian. But how do you know that it isn’t her choice to be treated that way. Maybe she even likes it.”
“You’re an animal!”
“Perhaps. But I do in fact own Kitten. She is my pet. You are not one to judge me. Isn’t Joe your pet?”
“Fuck you!”
Boche laughs at me and then says, “Please shower and then put on the attire you were shown last night. You will be having breakfast with Ms. Fox in approximately one hour. Be ready when I return.”
With that, he turns sharply and exits the room.
The next hour turns out to be the longest of my life. I can’t help but wonder if everything that has been said will come true. Am I living the last few hours of my life? Will I ever see Joe again? How about that fucking Bitch, Gemma? Will I ever get back to my beautiful New Orleans again? The knock I’d been dreading ends my reverie.
“Are you ready?” Boche asks as he enters the room.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I respond.
“Don’t play games with Emma Fox, Joni. She’s very dangerous.”
“So you keep saying.”
“It bears repeating.”
“Why do you care?”
“I want what she has. You may be my path to getting it.”
“And what might that be?”
“I cannot say. You may tell her under duress. You will surely be under duress soon enough. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going? What does she have planned for me?”
“I believe you’re having breakfast with her.”
Boche leads me from the room and down a long hallway. I become self aware of the outfit I was to ordered to wear. I’m wearing blue thong panties, a long white silk robe and nothing else. Emma has the right idea for breakfast clothing. But I feel naked as we ride the elevator upwards.
The elevator finally stops after completing it’s long journey to the roof. We disembark and walk down a short hallway, through a door to the outside and into a dream world that could only be conjured from the darkest depths of Hell.
The roof of the building has been converted into an idyllic garden scene. There are small trees growing in pots, plants, and what looks like a real grassy area. Concrete gargoyles and ceramic birds guard over the lush greenness. Real birds flock to discreetly placed feeders and baths designed to give naturalness to this unnatural setting. The scene would be beautiful…if it wasn’t for the hazy, smoggy backdrop of the Houston skyline and the noises and smells associated with any large metropolis. It also doesn’t help that several armed men are standing at each corner of the rooftop.
Boche leads me a across a clear portion of the roof that doesn’t seem to fit with the rest. We walk up two steps and onto a raised, covered porch. There is a table filled with breakfast items on the porch. There are only two chairs at the table. A woman occupies one of the chairs. She stands to greet me as we approach. “Joni, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Ms Emma Fox,” Boche says, and then walks back toward the elevator.
Chapter 15
Boche steps onto the elevator and as soon as the door closes, he calls Storm. “It’s time to roll. There are ten guards in the building. Four are on the roof. A few will flee at the first sign of trouble. The rest are loyal to Ms. Fox. The other six are scattered on the second and third floor. We don’t have much time.”
As Boche signs off his phone, the man called Storm starts up the large van, puts in gear and drives as fast as he can toward the warehouse’s closed garage door.
Boche gets off the elevator on the third floor…where the remaining captives are being held. He rushes down the hallway unlocking doors as he goes. He begins ordering everyone into the hallway. When he gets to the room where the guards are, he punches the first one through the door in the face and orders the other one to the ground at gunpoint. He sees that this guard is nothing more than a scared boy, so he disarms him and locks him in the room with the injured guard. He takes their radios before he secures the door. Just as he notices the captives streaming into the hallway, a loud crash rocks the building. He knows that this is the man called Storm driving through the garage door.
Boche must now convince the captives that it is in their best interests to follow him. But first, he must deal with the large, very angry Joe….who just yanked the pistol from his hand.
Now with a pistol pointed at his own forehead and Joe’s forearm crushing his windpipe, Boche manages to squeak, “You have to trust me! I can get you out of here!”
“Fuck you! Tell me where Joni’s at, or I’ll turn your head into a canoe!”
“Listen to me, you fool! All of you will die if you don’t!”
“Tell me where she is!”
“We’ve got to get out of here, Joe!”
Just as Boche starts fading from the immense pressure on his throat, a heavy weight hits Joe in the back. His grip is torn away from the man he was choking and he reels against the wall as Kitten reaches around his head and starts clawing at his eyes. The gun falls from his hand and clatters to the floor. He tosses the clawing, screaming woman off his back and Gemma slams into her, knocking her to the floor. As Gemma rushes to punch the brunette, the girl curls up into a fetal ball and says, “Please don’t hurt me.”
A stunned Gemma stares at her for a moment and then Boche says, “Yes, please don’t hurt my Kitten. She was only trying to help me.” Gemma stops in her tracks…not because she is a humanitarian…because Boche is holding the pistol once again.
Joe gets to his feet and stands in front of Gemma. “What do you want from us, Boche? Haven’t you done enough damage already?”
“I want you to listen to me. Don’t interrupt. If you heard that loud noise moments before then you heard Storm drive a truck through the garage door of this building. We must get to that truck before the other guards get there. That is the only way you will get out of here alive.”
“Where’s Joni? I’m not leaving without her.”
“Joe, you must trust me. I will bring her to you.”
“Fuck that! I’ll get her myself.”
“You’ll be dead before you find her. Trust me. I promise you I will bring her to you…if she is still alive.”
“What do you mean, ‘If she’s still alive?’ For your sake, you better pray she is.”
“Please Joe. Protect my Kitten until I return with your Joni. I hold you solely responsible for her as you do me for Joni.”
Joe looks at the armed man for a moment, obviously weighing his options. As a token of trust, Boche hands him the gun. “Get these people to safety Joe. I will save your precious Joni. Trust me.”
With that, Boche runs toward the stairwell and disappears. Kitten tries to rush after him but Joe and Gemma restrain the screaming girl.
Chapter 16
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to sit down and have breakfast with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought you may be hungry. Now sit down!”
The tone of authority in her voice can only come from one who is used to giving orders…and having them followed without question. I decide that this may be the only way to find out what is going on. I sit down across from her.
“Eat, child. You look famished.”
“Did you poison my food?”
The woman called Emma Fox crinkles her face in humorous disgust and reaches across the table and takes a bite of my food. “Satisfied? I’m not dead. Joe told me corn flakes with strawberries were your favorite breakfast. I hope you enjoy.”
“You were in that picture with Joe.”
“Yes. We had a marvelous evening. He is quite a lover. I may keep him around for a while.”
“I hate you.”
“Such harshness from one so young. Eat your breakfast, and then we will discuss hatred.”
I am hungry. I don’t want to, but I succumb and eat like I’m famished. I catch Emma watching me and I can’t help but think of a rabbit trapped by a rattlesnake’s stare. As I eat, she begins to talk.
“Of course you know by now that my name isn’t really Emma Fox. I think you’ve known that for sometime (actually, I haven’t). My name is really Jenn Peccavi. Does that name ring a bell with you?”
I think for a minute, but nothing comes to me, “No. Should it.”
“Well, yes it should. Twelve years ago you destroyed me. Now it’s time to return the favor (twelve years ago? What is this nutty bitch talking about?).”
“Twelve years ago? I don’t understand….” I say with a mouthful of cornflakes.
Emma, or Jenn, hasn’t taken her eyes off me. She is watching for any indication that I understand. But I really don’t.
“Yes. Twelve years ago I was very young, but very powerful. I was the head of a large empire in Florida, Texas, the Mississippi Gulf Coast, and parts of Tennessee and in Louisiana. I had to fight hard to gain what I had in New Orleans. But one day an…ahem…investigative reporter took it upon herself to expose me in the Times-Picayune. She called me a criminal. She made up baseless accusations of a vast network of drugs, prostitution and rackets. She accused me of ‘fixing’ several sporting events in the Southeast. She even exposed my propensity for violence. She somehow learned that I ran an underground combat network and liked to participate. She said I was very cruel to my opponents.” A wicked grin appears on her face, “I guess that much was true. I supposedly crippled her cousin.” She pauses for a moment to let me digest what she’s telling me.
“Well…did you?” I ask, now curious to see where this is going.
“Did I what?”
“Run a criminal empire? Did you cripple someone?”
“No.” She hesitates and drops her eyes for just a moment. “I’m no criminal. But yes to your second question.” She flashes that evil grin again.
I think for a moment, but I still can’t figure out how I play into any of this. Why am I here?
“That’s all very interesting, but what does it have to do with me?”
“Oh Joni, please don’t play coy with me. I don’t like games. Unless I’m the one playing them.”
“Really. I don’t understand,” I push my empty cornflake bowl away and look at her.
“You don’t? The Times-Picayune article that ruined me was written by Jonica Desjarlais.”
“That’s my name!”
“I know. You wrote it and then you disappeared. I was told that you went into hiding because of what I might do to you. But I knew it was you when I saw your name on that catfight website. I know your style. I’ve had twelve years to study it. I’ve watched for your byline for so long that I feared I might never find it. Fortunately, my passion for combat led me to that forum. As luck would have it, your story was the first thing I saw. I knew it was you from the very first sentence. Fate is on my side, mon cher.”
What is this crazy bitch talking about? I never wrote for the Times-Picayune. Especially not twelve years ago!
“I…I never wrote for a newspaper.”
She stares at me and the wicked grin never leaves her lips. She has the coldest eyes I have ever seen, and I’m beginning to really get scared. The expression on her face never changes while she picks up her heavy water glass and takes a deep drink.
“You can deny it all you want, nothing can change history…or your future. Now, you wanted to discuss hatred…..”
The smile never leaves her face and her eyes never stop sparkling as she releases the water glass and it slams into my forehead like a hammer.
Chapter 17
Joe finally manages to quiet the screaming kitten and head his little gang of misfits to the stairwell…it seems Boche disabled the elevator. Oh well, three stories isn’t too far to go, and Joe decides the stairs will probably be safer anyway. The five prisoners take up formation with Joe leading then Kayla and Marie keeping an eye on Kitten. Gemma wants to gag the young girl, but Joe says they don’t have time. Gemma brings up the rear (appropriate for her, don’t you think?)
As they edge closer to the second floor exit, the door opens and a guard rushes onto the landing. There is nowhere for the prisoners to escape and after a moment of hesitation, the guard opens fire with his pistol. Fortunately for Joe, Marie, Kitten and Gemma…the guard isn’t a very good shot. Unfortunately for Kayla, he doesn’t have to be a good shot as lead bounces off concrete and tends to ricochet. Fortunately for Marie, Kayla, Kitten and Gemma…Joe is a very good shot. Unfortunately for the guard, Joe doesn’t miss. The guard crumples to the floor just as Kayla screams out in pain.
Marie rushes to her lover’s side and gasps in horror when she sees blood appear on Kayla’s shoulder. “Please be ok, please, please, please….” She pleads.
Joe immediately checks the wound and hastily bandages it with a piece of cloth torn from Kitten’s t-shirt. He announces that it appears to be a clean wound, but she needs medical attention as soon as possible. But first, he has to get the group to the basement. With help from Gemma and Marie, he manages to get Kayla to her feet. She proudly comments that she is “fighter,” and she’ll be alright. But the pain and fear in her eyes belies her bravado.
Joe leads the group deeper into the depths of the building until they finally reach the landing marked parking garage. They walk through the doors and come face to face with Jessika and another guard. Both are armed and pointing their guns at the group.
“Aw damn, not now!” Gemma exclaims upon seeing her fierce rival. He body still aches from their last encounter. She does take pride in the fact that Jessika’s body still bears the evidence of their last encounter.
Chapter 18
The heavy drinking glass slams into my forehead and I recoil backwards, tumble out of the chair and land in a shower of glass, ice and very cold water. My hands raise to my forehead and I feel no blood, but before I can probe any farther, my hair is roughly grabbed and I’m half dragged off the porch and tossed onto the strange area that seemed so out of place on the roof a little while before. But as I land on the padded ground, the area’s purpose becomes crystal clear. It was designed for Emma’s “combat sports.”
Before I can explore the site any farther, my robe is yanked and torn until it is completely off of me. Now I’m left only in my blue thong. Emma…or Jenn…slowly removes her silk robe and reveals matching purple bra and panties. “I’ve waited a long time for this moment, Jonica Desjarlais. Welcome to your destiny.”
The brunette charges me and I manage to evade her first attack, but she soon has me cornered. I can’t flee. There’s nowhere to go. Every time I move, the four-armed guards form a barrier between me and any method of escape…except the roof’s edge. Now, I’m pretty dumb, but I’m not dumb enough to think I can fly. I turn and face the big, brunette bully. I believe I have a plan.
I’ve seen Gemma do this little maneuver several times. Heck, I’ve fallen victim to it at least three times. So why not give it a shot? I bet it works. Surely Jenn Peccavi isn’t that good a fighter. Facing my adversary head on, I strike out with my left fist. As it speeds toward her face, she easily blocks it…as I anticipated. I launch a hard underhand right fist toward her unprotected belly, but as it reaches the halfway point, her forehead slams into mine with a sickening ‘thud!’ As my head is jarred backwards, my entire body follows. I do a complete 180 in the air and land on my shoulder blades. The back of my head makes a second sickening ‘thud’ as it strikes the mat. The world goes black.
The pain briefly goes away, but comes roaring back in a torrent of ice cold water. I open my eyes and Jenn is standing over me with a second, now empty, water glass. Its contents are now splashed around my head. She laughs as she hands the glass back to a guard. “Oh my, this going to be easier than I thought. You are so weak. Too bad you can’t hide behind a keyboard now, isn’t it?”
I blink my eyes several times to remove the cold water, but I can’t believe how badly my head hurts. I sit up but a wave of nausea so intense hits me that I fear I may throw up. But I manage to keep my breakfast down as Jenn pulls me back to my feet by my hair again. I stagger a little and then she drives her fist deep into my exposed belly. I double up as sharp pain shoots all the way to my spine and I crumple to the floor while my tormentor laughs. “You’re so soft. Not so tough now, are you.” She kicks me in the side of the head and I collapse onto my side. “Fight back, you weak little bitch! I can’t believe you’re giving up this easy!”
My God! She is going to beat me to death and there is nothing I can do to stop her. Am I really this weak? Do I have no pride? No desire to live? I know I’ve let Joe down, but apparently he doesn’t care much for me any longer. I can’t fight for Gemma. She hates me. But that’s my fault too. I have no family left except an estranged sister. There is no one I can fight for. No one cares if I live or die. There’s just me. Only I don’t understand why I’m even here. I strike out with my heel and kick the laughing woman with a solid blow just below her kneecap. She yelps in shocked pain and falls onto her good knee beside me. For the first time today the smile leaves her face, and it is replaced by the most frightening visage of utter hatred I have ever seen. I’m sure if I somehow manage to survive, this look will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. She balances herself, forces her hand into the front of my panties, pinches what little hair I have (damn, I knew I should have shaved
) and yanks so hard my butt lifts off the ground. I squeal in shocked pain as she yanks and yanks. Finally, I feel the hair pull free and my butt flops back to the ground. I curl up in a sobbing, writhing ball and try to rub the burning, searing pain away. Behind me I hear giggling as Jenn asks for a clean towel. “Put this a bag. I want those for a memento.” Over the course of the next few minutes I am subjected the most intense lesson in pain that I’ve ever felt. Jenn rolls me onto my back, straddles me and immobilizes me by pinning my arms to the floor with her knees and sitting on my chest. She proceeds to discuss her ‘hatred’ by pounding my face with her fists and hands. When she is finished, I’m pretty sure my nose is broken and one eye is swollen shut and the other has blood pouring into it from a cut on my eyebrow. I would lament on how I let myself get into this situation again, but I just hurt too damn bad. She grabs me by the hair and bangs my head off the floor. “Soon my dear Jonica Desjarlais, you’ll be begging me to go ahead and kill you.” With that, she stands up and stomps on my lower left leg until I’m pretty sure I heard a pop and I black out as the intense pain reaches my brain.
Chapter 19
The guard raises his weapon and orders Joe to drop his. Jessika and the guard obviously have the drop on him, but Joe knows he can’t let their escape bid die here. This is the only chance they’ll get. But before he can do anything rash, Jessika raises her pistol and slams it into the back of the armed guard’s head. The man pitchs forward then crumples to the floor unconscious. “I’ve got a long history with Kayla and Marie. I can’t let Emma kill you. Although I relish the though of destroying Marie and Gemma myself. Maybe someday, but now you need to get Kayla to safety.” Jessika then turns and flees back into the bowels of the building.
“C’mon, we’ve got to get Kayla out of here,” Joe says to the rest of the group. They stagger down a short hallway and into the main bay of the garage. Not knowing what to expect, they are relieved to find Storm and his van waiting. Freedom is close.
Storm gets out of the van and approaches the group with a huge smile on his face. Then it fades when he notices the blood on Kayla’s shoulder. Instead of wasting time asking what happened, he rushes to assist her. Turning to Joe, he asks, “How well do you know Houston?”
“I grew up here, why?”
“Okay, you drive. I’ve got some experience with gunshot wounds. I’ll stay in the back with her. We have to get as far from this place as we can.”
Joe nods his head in agreement. He assigns Gemma and Marie to assist Storm in the back of the van. Kitten will ride in the cab with him so she won’t be a nuisance. As everyone climbs in the vehicle, Joe takes one last look around wondering if he’ll ever see the woman he loves again. “Damn you Boche. You better not let me down.”
Joe gets into he driver’s seat and the van rockets out of the garage and into the hot, humid Houston afternoon. He points the vehicle eastward towards New Orleans.
Chapter 20
Once again I’m rescued from a hot world of darkness by a rush of ice-cold water. My tormentor is standing over me with a now empty glass for the second time. My God! What have I done to deserve this? But this is obviously my Purgatory. Soon I will probably die without ever understanding why.
I am roughly pulled to my feet again, but this time I don’t stop there. Jenn lifts me like a child (I can’t believe how incredibly strong this woman is) and slams my poor body across her outstretched knee. I gasp in shocked agony, but I hurt to badly to scream. Hell, I can’t even beg. Not that I would. No one cares about me. Joe’s with Gemma and he looked happy in the pictures. I plan on dying with dignity. But pride can only carry you so far….I whimper as Jenn slams my back across her knee a second time and I fear she may be trying to break it just like my leg.
Suddenly a popping noise can be clearly heard from deep inside the building. Jenn stops her torture for a moment and orders her guards to investigate. As they reach the door, more popping sounds arise. Jenn screams in anger as the men all throw down their weapons and flee the rooftop.
“Dammit why can’t anything go as planned! Come back you fucking idiots! Damn. You want something done right, then do it yourself.”
She walks over to a table and picks up a wireless radio. She speaks into it briefly but gets no reply. Her agitation increases as she looks back at me. “I guess it’s time to end this little game, mon cher.” She picks up a baseball bat and approaches me.
I struggle onto my knees and raise my head expecting the impending fatal blow. “Twelve years ago, huh?”
“Twelve years ago. You signed your death warrant the day that article was published.”
“Okay. But it wasn’t me.”
“There’s no reason to lie, Jonica Desjarlais. Die with a little honor, please.”
“I’m serious. It wasn’t me. I was still in high school twelve years ago. No newspaper would have hired me.”
My words sound hollow when spoken through mashed lips and a broken nose. But they ring of truth. I couldn’t have written that article. With my one eye still open, I see the truth finally sink in on my adversary. She now realizes I’m the wrong Jonica Desjarlais.
“You were in high school?”
“I started a year late because my parents thought I was too immature to start at five.”
“It wasn’t you?”
“No. You have the wrong girl.”
Chapter 21
As the sun descends from the sky at their back, a large white van speeds toward the Texas-Louisiana stateline. The only occupants are Joe, Gemma and Kitten. Kayla was dropped off at a Beaumont hospital along with Marie and Storm, both of whom refused to leave her side. A phone call from Storm later revealed that the injury was only a flesh wound and would leave no permanent injury. After that news, Gemma collapsed into a heap and slept like the dead in the back of the van. Joe still hasn’t heard any news about Joni, and he’s quickly losing hope.
“Do you think I’ll ever see Boche again?”
“I don’t know, Kitten.”
“I miss him.”
“I know, Kitten. You’ve said that a hundred times already….but why? He leads you around on a leash.”
“Maybe I like that, asshole! You ever think about that?”
“You like being lead around on a leash?” Joe asks, incredulously.
“Maybe.”
“Boche’s a fucking animal! He treats you like shit, and you like it? Are you insane?”
“Most likely. But please don’t talk about Boche like that! He saved my life! I’m his Kitten! If it wasn’t for him I’d probably still be dancing on poles and using meth. He saved my life! People treat me with respect when he’s around. They look at me with respect! I can go to nice places with him. He treats me like a lady when there’s no one around. You don’t know! I like showing the world I belong to him! I’m happy because of him! I’m healthy because of him! Why not be his pet?”
The young girl collapses against the door and cries. Joe rolls his eyes and says, “I’m sorry Kitten. I was out of line.”
“Will you take care of me if he doesn’t come back?”
“I don’t know, Kitten. I need to find Joni.”
“Boche said he’d bring her back, didn’t he. He will! But I don’t think his future plans include me.”
“What are his plans, Kitten?”
“I don’t know if I should tell you.”
“And you want me to take care of you? Welcome back to the streets.”
“He’d kill you if you did that. You gave him your word.”
“I guess I did. You’ll be taken care of. But now you owe me something. What are his plans?”
“He’s going to kill Emma Fox and take over her empire.”
“Her empire?”
“She runs a vast crime network stretching from Miami to El Paso. She has stuff in the Caribbean and Australia too.”
“Impossible. I’m a cop. The last woman in New Orleans who had that much power was Jenn Peccavi, but she disappeared ten years, or so, ago.”
“Peccavi! That’s the name Boche kept mentioning!”
“Emma Fox is Jenn Peccavi?”
“Yes! That’s it!”
Joe’s heart sinks when this news hits him. Now he has real reason to believe he may never see Joni again. Emma Fox is Jenn Peccavi. Unbelievable!
Kitten tires of the conversation after a while and tries to lay her head on Joe’s shoulder, but he pushes her away. Soon she curls up in a ball on the front seat and falls asleep. Before he knows it, the sleeping girl has her head in his lap. He is astounded when he notices her soft breathing sounds just like a cat purring. He softly stokes her hair just to keep her purring.
Chapter 22
“You were still in high school?” The realization hits home and Emma Fox…aka Jenn Peccavi…can just repeat this same line over and over…..
“Yes.” It hurts to talk, but I manage it pretty well. “I was still in high school.”
“The Times-Picayune would never hire a high school student as an investigative reporter. Were you named after your mother?”
“No.”
“Grandmother?”
“No.”
“Aunt? Uncle? Any family member?”
“I was named after my grandfather. His name was Jon Thibodaux.”
After a minute of reflection, the woman formerly known as Emma Fox turns pale as a ghost. “I did all of this to you….and you’re the wrong person?”
“Afraid so.”
“OH MY GOD, child! What have I done?”
“So? You can let us go now?”
“Absolutely not! Not now!”
“But….why not?”
“Well, for one thing, you know too much to be left alive. For another, that smart mouth of yours would drive a nun to murder. I can’t let you live.”
My heart sinks as my last ray of hope flickers. I steel myself for the inevitable. Surely it will come soon. I guess I was ready for it a little while back. I mean, who is there left to care whether I live or die. Joe certainly doesn’t. He can live his life out with his little English whore. I lower my head and softly weep.
“But you know, Jonica Desjarlais, I’m a sporting woman. Since I made a mistake, it would be unfair if I didn’t give you some sort of chance. I guess you’ve earned it.”
I hear the sound of the baseball bat clatter to the floor and I think, “Oh great, she’s going to beat me to death with her hands. Yippee!” But that isn’t what she has in mind.
“Your friends are still alive. Look and see where the bat is. Go on, look up at it. Good. That isn’t very far. If you can get to it before I do, you can still win. If you win, your friends will be spared. But if you lose…..” She smiles that wicked grin again, “This is your only chance. I will tell my crew what I just told you.” And she keyed the radio and did just that. Now, Joni, what is your choice?”
The bat is only about three yards away. Not too far. But I can’t breathe through my nose, my back hurts, and my leg is possibly broken. I have no chance. She’ll be on me before I can even touch the bat. I’m going to die on a rooftop in Houston on a hot, humid summer afternoon. There are storm clouds forming to the west. But I most likely won’t live long enough to see the lightening. Three yards is an eternity. My eternity. Then I see the third option. I spring off the floor toward the open door. Jenn face turns to a mask of shock when she sees where I’m headed and she staggers off balance to stop me. Just as she blocks my path to the door, I push off my injured left leg…and yelp in pain…change direction and dive toward the bat. I see Jenn stare for a moment in disbelief and launch herself towards me and the bat. I dive and my fingers touch the hard, round wooden surface just as her body crashes into mine……..
Chapter 23
….Joe walks along the lonely beach always looking for the one he lost. Movement from the water catches his eye and he looks and sees a laughing blonde playfully beckoning him to her. It is the one he loves. He rushes toward her and as he gets closer the setting sun brightly lights her hair and illuminates her in an aura of golden light. Then she’s gone. He looks wildly around, but there is no sign of her. She is gone again. He looks at the shore and drops to the sand and weeps when he notices that his are the only footprints in the sand…..
Joe sits up in bed covered in a cold sweat. The damp sheets are a tangled mess at his feet. He takes a moment to realize where he is, and why he’s there.
“You miss it, don’t you?” Gemma softly asks rising up on his left, placing a warm hand on his chest.
After a moment of recollection, Joe replies, “Yes, I do. I can’t believe it’s over.”
“Me neither. You know, I really miss the fun. The excitement! That stupid bitch could sure get people riled up!”
“Oh God, don’t I know! She was a professional troublemaker. Damn, I miss that!”
“But are your other needs taken care of? Could she do this?
Gemma runs her hand down his chest and belly and into his boxer shorts. They both playfully giggle and wrestle for a moment.
“Yeah, she could get me pretty excited.”
“Like me?”
“There’s no one quite like you, Gems.”
“You got that right! Come over here and let me help you forget all about her.”
“Okay!”
Finally, I had enough of this nonsense! I rise up from Joe’s right side and say, “You two know I can hear everything you’re saying right?”
“Hey Joe, she is awake! How the hell are you, babes?”
“Fuck you, slut! Get your hands off my man!”
“Make me, you fucking wimp!”
“You bitch! Let go of my hair!”
“Ow, slag! Don’t slap me!
Joe watches the action over him with a pleased smile on his face.
“Can I play, too?”
Gemma and I both yell, “Hell no Kitten! Go lay down!”
“Screw both you bitches!”
“Stop staring at us, you weird little whore!” I yell and throw a pillow at her. She curls up on her blanket in the corner and says, “Thanks, bitch.”
“Don’t slap me Joni!”
“Ugh, fuck Gemma, that punch hurt!”
“Then let go of my hair, you cunt!”
“Fuck you!”
“Yes,” Joe thinks as he lays his head back against the headboard, “Life is certainly good.”
“Let go of my tit, bitch!”
“I’m gonna rip it off, you fucking dyke!”
“You’re just jealous because mine are bigger, whore!”
“Yeah, well my snatch is cleaner, you nasty cunt!”
Epilogue
Late one summer night, a mysterious woman was dropped off at a Houston emergency room with severe head injuries. Her survival was a miracle, but her memory seems to be lost on the hot, humid East Texas wind. She hasn’t spoken a word. All she can do is sit in her hospital bed and run four names over and over in her head. She sits in silence and dreams of the day she will get her revenge. The names roll over and over: Gemma…Joni…Kayla…Marie…Gemma…Joni…Kayla…Marie….
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