My Sister Emily by Unknown
My big sister Emily is so weird. She never ever stood up for me, but then when I came home with a black eye that I got from a high school bully girl, I was amazed when she swore she would punish the *****.
The bully's name was Monica, and she was picking on all my friends, not just me. When Emily told me she was going to challenge Monica to fight, I told her that Monica was tall, thin, and tough as steel. But Emily seemed to like the idea of fighting this girl. The more I described how tough she was, the more Emily's eyes lit up.
I don't understand why because I'm sure Emily had ever been in a fight in her life. Just the fake wrestling we did in our basement. And she sure wasn't built like a fighter, except that she has a low center of gravity.
So Emily tracked down Monica the next day and challenged her to meet and fight after school, in the back of the wall around the parking lot. That's where kids go to fight in our school because the teachers can't see you there.
The other thing about Monica is, she hates femmy, **** girls, and she especially picks on girls who wear short shirts and hiphuggers. She calls them "belly-sluts" and beats on them hard whenever she can. This is why it amazed me when Emily skipped out of last period and went home and changed into exactly that kind of outfit, and then came back to fight Monica.
She put on this very short, tight leather vest she has. It has a weathered tan color and neat little black stitching. Her breasts were pretty well crammed into it. She also wore faded and cut button-fly hiphuggers. They were just slightly tight, riding low on her hips, and flaring out around the calves. She had on a pair of brown wedge sandals which looked good but were no use for fighting. She even had on a toe ring, a leather choker, rings, and a bracelet. Her face was nicely made up, and she looked like she was dressed for a concert or a date.
Monica and her cronies were already there when Emily and my friends and I came down from school. We stood to one side, and the bully girls on the other, laughing at Emily. Emily and Monica stared each other down, and I tried to tell if Emily looked scared or not. She really had that gleam in her eye. But she didn't look like she was tensed up for a fight.
Monica was snarling like an angry dog. "Belly-****," she sneered, looking my sister up and down. "It's my lucky day. I get to beat up a belly-****!" Emily just stood with her hands on her hips.
I had warned her and warned her about Monica but must have been ignored. Because while Emily was standing there with her hands on her hips, Monica lashed out with no warning and gave her a hard punch to the belly.
Emily was caught completely off guard, and I heard the loud slap of Monica's fist slamming solidly into Emily's soft belly. Emily's lungs emptied with an "OOOOFFF!!" and her knees wobbled.
Monica grabbed her by the choker and the hair and quickly pounded two more hard punches up into Emily's stomach.
Emily grunted and her knees bent and I thought she would fall, but Monica held her up by her hair. She walloped four more hard punches into poor Emily's belly, then shoved her back against the wall. My sister's eyes rolled in the back of her head.
Monica's friends were laughing and mocking Emily. My friends and I were clinging to each other in sympathy for her -- and in fear. My big sis, who had stepped in as our protector, was getting her belly busted by the school bully. We all knew we were dead meat now.
Emily looked like she had forgotten there was going to be a fight and she was in it. She never threw a punch, never raised her arms to defend herself. Her hands were flapping around uselessly, not protecting her body, and not attacking Monica. She was gulping air and her chin was wet. It looked like spit was coming out of her mouth.
Monica had a choke on Emily's throat and was holding her up and back to the wall to keep her from falling. There was no gleam left in Emily's eyes. She had this sort of blank, beat-up look in them instead. Monica drove her fist hard into Emily's stomach. Again and again, Monica punished my sister by slamming her knuckles into the older girl's soft belly. In between the punches, Monica taunted her.
"Come on, you belly-***** ... fight back ... yeah, I beat up your sister ... now I'm beating your belly." Pow! Another hard fist shot up into Emily's stomach.
She choked on a grunt. "You can't fight me, belly-****." Pow!
"Beg me to stop. Maybe I'll show you some mercy." Whomp!
But Emily didn't beg. I couldn't tell if she was too scared or too beat up or just didn't want to quit. I know I would have been begging my head off. She just stood there and took a severe gut-whomping from Monica's raw red fists. "I said, beg me to stop, *****!" Wham! Wham!
Everyone was watching in awe now as Monica poured belly-slammers into Emily. She hammered her fist into my helpless sister's soft stomach. After about 10 in a row, Monica would pause, and just when Emily started to get her breath, she would plow into her again with big swinging uppercuts from close range, right in Emily's soft belly. The beating went on for about 5 minutes. Finally, Emily found her voice and begged Monica to stop.
"Pleeease. Stooop. I give ... don't hit my belly," she croaked. But it wasn't going to be that easy. Monica was showing off for her gang.
"Say you're a belly-****. Say it!"
"I'm ... uh! ... a ... OOOFFF! ... uuuhh! ... belly ... ****," Emily groaned. Wham! Another hard fist to the belly. This one lifted Emily off her feet. I could see tears on Emily's face.
"Say it louder, *****!"
"IIIIIIIII'm ... a ... ooohhh ... a ... bellllyyy sluuuuuut!" Emily howled.
For her good behavior, she was rewarded with another brutal punch to her gut. "OOUFF!!"
After that punch to Emily's belly, Monica finally let her fall to the dirt. Monica dropped to her knees beside the beaten brunette, grabbed a fistful of Emily's hair, lifted her head up, and *****-slapped her.
"Now, *****, I'll let you thank me for whomping your belly." Emily's eyes opened and I could see her lips barely move. "Thaaank you ..." her voice sounded like she was going to sleep. Monica shook her roughly. "Thank you for what?!"
Monica smiled and gave my sister one more slap across the face before she let her drop, then stood up and stalked off with her thugs. On the way, she shot me a glare that plainly said, "I own you now, *****." I swallowed hard, then we helped my sister home, where she stayed in bed with the blinds drawn for three days.'