Melina get's a Belly Full by unknown

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Melinda Gets a Belly-Full Written by unknown


Melinda had picked out Zack on her fist day at the shore. He was the cutest, most flirtatious lifeguard on the beach, and she was 16 and determined to lose her virginity before the summer ended. She had made sure to parade past his lifeguard stand several times on the first afternoon. Within a week, she was stopping by to chat every day. Within a month, he put the move on her. They flirted all afternoon and made love in the beach house at night. It was beautiful. She surrendered herself and he came to her hard, like lovely wild ponies on a magical star-island. It made tears flow from her eyes, for joy and also because it hurt a bit. Melinda walked home barefoot, swinging her sandals and humming to herself. The sun was almost up by the time she got to sleep.



It was late afternoon the next day by the time she returned to the beach. Melinda put on her skimpiest bikini, the white one, and put a T-shirt and jeans over it to be decent when she left the house. She stole a bottle of tequila -- Zack's favorite -- from her parents' liquor cabinet and smuggled it into her backpack. she told her parents she was going to see her girlfriend and let the screen door slam behind her. Melinda looked for Zack at the beach house where the lifeguards hung out. She felt giddy gazing again on the magic spot where they had laid together the night before, the orange couch and its rough fabric looking tawdry in the sunlight but still imbued with magic for her. But Zack wasn't there. So Melinda slipped her legs back into her jeans, zipped them up -- they were tight, hip-huggers cut a good six inches below her belly-button -- and walked slowly back into town to his address. The air was hot and thick, rolling off the mainland, and Melinda was too hot to wear the shirt, so she stuffed it in the backpack with the liquor. The little plump shelf below her navel made a pretty pillowcase above the belt of her low-slung jeans.


She found his address, six blocks off the beach, just as the sun set, and she brushed her hair back one last time and pulled the bottle out of the backpack to offer him as a present. She took a deep breath and knocked on the screen door. Out of the dim interior came a woman, wearing Zack's baggy beach patrol sweatpants and a black T-shirt that said "police academy training," and under that, the name "Sue." She was a small, wiry brunette with short curled hair. She stood at the door and regarded Melinda coldly.


"Where's Zack," Melinda said, as her heart felt like it was falling into her gut. She hoped she was at the wrong house.


"He's out," Sue answered.


"Well, where is he?"


"Never mind. I wanna talk to you," Sue came out and took Melinda by the arm and marched her down the steps.


"Well did he say ..."


"I said forget it." Sue hauled Melinda down along the side of the house, to the tiny fenced-in sandlot that made up the back yard.


"I got a message for you from Zack," Sue said. "Two words: 'Get Lost.' "


Melinda's sense of self crumbled, but her deluded, euphoric crush knew that this would all be easily settled once Zack saw the two women together. Of course his true feelings for Melinda would sweep aside his false relationship with this older woman, this Sue.


"He loves me," Melinda said.


Sue laughed. "Did he tell you that?"


Melinda was silent. She was sure he had, but now she couldn't remember it.


"You're just a nice piece of ass and if he'd had any idea you were so obsessed he wouldn't have gone anywhere near you." Sue saw the tears start in the teen's eyes. Melinda didn't believe a word of it, but it was so cruel. "Oh, or did you think you're the first piece of beach trash he ever picked out of the sand?"


Melinda snapped. She swung the full tequila bottle at her rival's head. Sue ducked the wild attack easily, and elbowed Melinda between the shoulder blades, sending her sprawling.


Sue stepped a foot on Melinda's ear as she lay flat, and ground her face against the cold, dry sand. "Welcome to the real world, princess," Sue hissed. After a second, the pressure let up on Melinda's cheek. Melinda whimpered a bit, told herself sternly not to cry, and grunted to her knees. Frowning, she reached for her back, first with one hand, then the other, and checked her fingers for blood.


She saw Sue's hand extended in front of her, the left hand, palm open. Melinda, feeling herself a child again, surrendered her own hand to it. The fingers gripped her wrist, pulled firmly, and Melinda rose with it, till on her soles again she stiffly straightened and arched her spine. But no sooner this than Sue's free fist slammed wrist-deep in Melinda's bare belly.


"OOOOOOOOPPHH!!" Melinda stooped, sick with a bellyfull of agony. Open mouth groveling for air to bellow out her suffering. No girl now, just a punched gut.


Sue watched her, pleased. "It's not punching her in the gut that's fun," she thought, "it's what comes just after." The long daze of ache and dehumanizing breathlessness, dragging on the air like a harsh cigarette, the gasp and suffer and shoulder-shuddering convulsion. The arched back and gaping yawn of a girl howling from her belly.


Another woman's voice out of the house" "Sue? Are you OK?"


"I'm out back," Sue called. "Come and help me."


Two tall, thick women came around the house.


"This is the little **** that Zack fucked," Sue said, gesturing to the moaning girl doubled up on the ground. "The one he said just lay there like a fish and then bawled when he stuck his **** in her. Hold her up for me, will you?"


The two bruisers pulled Melinda to her feet and clamped her in an arm-lock. Both arms twisted, sinew-torture, hands helpless against the raw spot amid her upper back. Sue stood close to her. She grabbed a lock of Melinda's hair. "Blondes," she muttered. "I hate him. Always blondes." And she slugged Melinda in the gut.


"H-UUUUUUUHH!" the teen-ager heaved. The tequila bottle had fallen on the sand. Sue picked it up. "And I see you brought him a little present? How nice. Only he won't be needing it, so why don't you keep it." She unscrewed the cap and tried to force the bottle mouth into Melinda's lips, but Melinda clamped her jaws. A slug in the belly opened her mouth, and Sue jammed the bottleneck in, letting the fiery liquid gallop into the teen-ager. Much of it ran out, down her chest and belly, but she swallowed much, too. Not until the bottle was empty did Sue withdraw it and throw it in the sand.


The two tall women held Melinda up, groggy. "Now all it needs is a little shakin' up," one said.


Full darkness was on the town now, and a timed spotlight came on, flooding the little patch of sand with a glare that lit up the hard flint in Sue's eyes and the grim set of her tight-lipped, mirthless smile as well as the drunken dim flicker in Melinda's lazy gaze and the slack pant of her jaw.


A torso twist, a dipped shoulder and a spongy "thud" announced another punch in Melinda's belly. Her slack body sucked back from the middle and her face winced while her cheeks chuffed. Sue paused to enjoy the sobby rasp of Melinda's breathless ache, and then when the teen finally sipped wind enough to moan, "uuuhooough," Sue walloped her again. The tequila-poisoned pulp of Melinda's mind, too smeared to anticipate, to set the flesh, offered open organ and naked nerves to Sue's gut-shudder slug. She speared Melinda's stomach with her fist. A dense slap sounded and Melinda's belly flopped inside her.


Her knees went, but the big girls clamped their grip on her arms before she hit the sand. Sue pitched another punch into her. The thud of a heavy mallet on thick beef. Melinda heaved up her pride with a rolling moan.


"OOOOAAUHH! Uh ... uh ... uh ... uh!"


"Is that what you sounded like when he fucked you? Huh, princess?"


POW! A fist right in the belly. Melinda went over hard, jackknifed at the waist, but the big girls held her fast upright. Melinda was moaning, head lolling, unaware of her peril. So the next fist, a knuckle shot two inches above the belly-button, caught her as soft and unprepared as the first one had.


OOUFF!! she spit, but she couldn't fold forward or clutch her soft gut. She couldn't even think about resistance or defense. Her brain, paralyzed like her diaphragm, had shut down. But her reflexes were intact, and with that punch a gush of liquid surged up Melinda's throat and vomited out her mouth. Sue stepped back just in time.


"Ew! She puked!" one of the girls holding Melinda said. They both threw her forward and she fell on her chin in the dirty sand.


The three women watched silently as Melinda writhed, in slow motion, and kicked feebly. Her ladylike red-nailed fingers clawed the sand, and her face, red and pinched from breathless sobbing, looked up at them, uncomprehending.


One of the beefy girls kicked her harshly in the stomach. With a brief gasp, Melinda lay still. "Let's go," Sue said, and they walked back to the front of the house, their footsteps receding on the gravel lawn.

July 11, 2023 11:45 PM