New Girl in Town by Tums


New Girl in Town by Tums

This is one I wrote like 10 years ago. I always thought I was the only one who wrote stories like that. Kinda relieved to see I'm not totally alone here. Oh well, here goes.

Wendy had fallen fast asleep at her computer desk. She was not prepared for the sudden sound of Shawn's pickup truck beeping outside.

The sound rang in her ears, jarring her awake. How long had she slept? The computer clock said 1:25. Wendy got to her feet and ran as quickly as she could to the mirror to make sure she still looked at least somewhat presentable. With a quick swipe of a tissue, her face was okay. Her uniform shirt had come untucked on one side. She quickly tucked it back prim and proper into her skirt and straightened her bow tie, which after nearly 19 hours of gouging into her neck was starting to feel majorly uncomfortable. But she had no time to undo it. Thank goodness graduation was only a few months away.

Wendy crawled out her window and dropped to the ground outside, making a dash for Shawn's truck before he beeped again and possibly awakened her parents. She leaped with all her energy into the back, her mary janes clunking clumsily against the side of the truck. Steve helped her to a seated position in the back of the truck as Shawn raced away.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Fine, just a little groggy," Wendy replied.

"Why are you still in your uniform?" he asked.

The truth was that Wendy's parents politely demanded she not change until bedtime, but she didn't want Steve to know that.

"Never had time to change," she lied.

"I see. So you ready for this?" he asked.

"I guess so."

The three were on their way to a local superstore to rob it. Wendy did not know this, she thought it was just a nightly cruise with the gang. Being the new girl in town, Wendy had no friends. These were the first people she ever spoke to or interacted with. They were all she had. So she was going to enjoy this as much as she could.

"Man, I'd be dyin' if I was still wearin' those," Steve attempted to make conversation.


Steve pointed toward her mary janes with the one-inch heel, firmly strapped over her black socks and tights.

"Ohh yeah, well you get used to it," she giggled, unaware of the mound growing in Steve's pants. She tried wiggling her feet inside the shoes. The socks were sticky with her perspiration, as they typically were after about the 12-hour mark, never mind the 19.

The truck screeched to a stop behind the local supermarket.

"What's going on?" Wendy asked.

"Quiet, let's move," Steve instructed.

Wendy's stomach lurched as she reluctantly crawled out of the truck, not wanting to put weight on her feet, but doing so anyway. Her mary janes clomped against the ground all business-like. Steve struggled to keep his raging erection under control at the sound of her exhausted feet making those prim, delicate little steps.

Shawn pulled a lock pick out and began to go to work. Wendy thought she had some idea what was going on here.

"Look guys," she whispered loudly. "If this is what I think it is, I want no part in it."

"You agreed," Shawn said, not even looking at her, and sounding much like a lifeless drill sergeant.

Wendy swallowed hard as the lock gave way, and they crept inside. Shawn led the way. Steve took a hold of Wendy's sweaty hand to lead her. It wasn't far to where they were going, the main office. Shawn produced a stethoscope of some kind, and began to go to work on a large safe in the corner. Wendy didn't want to watch, but did anyway as he proceeded to work out the combination. As the safe gave way, Wendy started to tremble. What had she just gotten herself into? Part of her just wanted to run away, screaming, but there was no way these two would let her get very far. Plus, she was exhausted as all getout.

Shawn pulled the safe door wide open, as he and Steve laughed in victory together. Wendy stood, still trembling, with her arms over her waist. Now she was sweating too, and she had no ventilation in this uniform.

Shawn and Steve both emerged from the office with equal amounts of money.

"Haha, and that's how it's done, maestro," Shawn victoriously stated, exchanging a high five with Steve. "Now it's your turn."

Wendy did not know how to react to the expectant looks from the two guys.

"What, you want me to..." she pointed toward the safe.

"You get a share too, baby, come on! Let's go before somebody shows up here!" Steve chortled.

Wendy swallowed again, her throat as dry as the Sahara. She took two steps toward the safe, both of them years apart, and stopped, hanging her head.

"I can't."

"What do you mean you can't? You came with us, you're one of us, you fulfill your place as one of us."

"Well I don't want to be one of you then," she said defiantly.

Shawn and Steve looked at each other, both exchanging a deep guttural chuckle.

"Look, just take me home... please?" Wendy tried.

"You are going to take your share, or we're going to take it for you."

"Go ahead! You can have it! Just let me..."

"No. When I say 'Take it for you', I mean 'Take it out of you.'"

That was the moment. Right there. That was when Wendy knew that nothing was ever going to be the same again. Her entire world was crumbling around her, and she wished for nothing more than to wake from this dreadful nightmare.

"So what's it going to be?" Shawn demanded.

"I can't. I won't. Okay? Please?" Wendy pleaded, almost getting to her knees. Tears were already filling her crystal blue eyes.

"Hold her," Shawn ordered.

Wendy fell to her knees, grimacing as she closed her eyes, allowing the tears to now cascade down her cheeks. This was it.

Steve roughly yanked Wendy up and onto her tired, sweaty feet again, holding her arms behind her back. Wendy wanted to scream, but she was hyperventilating uncontrollably at this point.

Shawn walked slowly up to the helpless Wendy, licking his lips.

"Look, Wendy. We're not stupid. If you're not with us, you're against us. And we can't risk you ratting us out, you hear me?"

Wendy nodded, still crying.

"So you go in there, and you take that money as a testament that you are one of us. That if we go down, you go down with us."

"I promise I won't tell!" Wendy pleaded in a voice so trembly she never knew she was capable of it.

"That's not enough. We need action. Not words."

Just pretend to steal it. Steal it and throw it out of the truck on the way home. Steal it and tell your parents what happened. Anything. There has to be something. But it's not your money. Oh God, what are these guys going to do?

"So come on with it? You with us? Yes, or no." Shawn scolded her.

"No," Wendy said through gritted teeth.

"Have it your way," Shawn said, reaching towards her neck..

Finally, she found the strength to do it. She let out a blood-curdling scream. She was stifled within seconds by Steve's hand. As she continued to protest through his hand, Shawn whispered "Shhhh" softly in her face. Then he whispered some more after she went silent...

"The louder you scream, the longer it will last."

Wendy unleashed a new deluge of fresh tears, trying to bend forward but Steve wouldn't let her. She was devastated and they hadn't even caused her any pain yet.

Shawn proceeded for a second time to reach towards her neck. Wendy squinted her eyes and gritted her teeth, not wanting to see what was coming. But it seemed nothing was happening. Suddenly, Wendy felt a refreshing draft of cooler air blow across her chest.

He was undoing the buttons on her school dress shirt. He hadn't undone the tie, but he was undoing the buttons. This was it, wasn't it. He really was going to do it. Oh God, please. Please, God.

When he got to the last button before the shirt went into Wendy's skirt, he slowly began to tug at her shirt tail, releasing it slowly, inch by inch, taking in deep breaths of it as he pulled it out. The shirt tail was slathered in today's unique array of wrinkles, as was typical, from having been so tightly compressed under Wendy's leather belt that went over her skirt. Finally, the entirety of her shirt tail was free. Wendy sighed and tried to enjoy the relief as much as she could, but that tie was still digging into her neck, the belt was still gouging into her waist, and it was hard enough to breathe already because she was terribly nervous.

Now Wendy's bare stomach was exposed. It was a beautifully crafted, creamy landscape of a midsection, starting from her supple breasts and smoothly avalanching down to her gloriously silky abdomen. Shawn's feelings were now as apparent as Steve's were, but nothing could prepare Wendy for what was truly coming.

Shawn balled up his right hand into a fist. Wendy tried to cry out again before remembering what he had said. The louder she screamed, the longer it would last. Shawn slowly approached her with his fist and softly applied the surface of his fist to her bare abdomen. He applied a little pressure, but nothing that hurt. Just enough so that she could feel the reality of his knuckles on her unprotected skin.

"Do you feel that?" Shawn asked, almost as politely as a doctor would.

"Yes," Wendy replied obediently, her voice still shaking.

"So I'm going to ask you one more time, are you with us?"

Wendy thought for a minute. There had to be a way to play this off. But the moment she walked out that door, she would be a criminal. That door that was only six feet away that anybody could just walk right by any old time, oh please let somebody walk by, please. There has to be a way, there just has to...

"WELL!?" Shawn interrupted her thoughts. "If I don't get an answer from you in 10 seconds, I'm going to assume your answer is no."

Shawn began counting down, and the numbers just went by too quickly. Wendy simply cried and tried to tighten her abdominal muscles, figuring that's what he was going for now, but she had never been much of one to exercise. Her metabolism typically did all the work, which left her with very little to speak of in the muscle department. As he passed the count of four, then three, Wendy pulled together her resolve, not wanting him to be in control of everything including her answer, and she gave him her own answer.



part 2

Shawn didn't hesitate. Immediately he lunged toward Wendy's defenseless body and buried the cold, unforgiving bone of his fist square into her left kidney. Wendy let out a heaving "UUNNNNFFF!" sound just before she crumpled to the ground and out of Steve's grip. She curled up, her face locked in a teary inflection of pain.

"Get her up," Shawn barked. Wendy squealed and squirmed, as Steve dragged her by the arms up and against the office wall nearby. She spat at him, but missed by a mile. Steve, having taken note of a cord dangling from a spot about eight feet up on the wall, proceeded to grab it and used it to tie Wendy's arms by the wrists above her head. Wendy would have fought back, but at this point, she had the presence of mind to realize that the more she resisted, the worse it would be. God willing, this would all be over and the guys would figure out that she had no intention of stealing, and they would just leave it at that.

Steve approached Wendy, his face a mere inch from hers. His breath was rancid as he spoke to her.

"You will change your mind. Whether you like it or not, you will. It's either that, or you die. Here, and now. You die." He whispered the word "die" at the end of his sentence, letting it trail off as he went around the side of her face and licked at her left earlobe, from which dangled a hoop earring.

"Please don't do this," Wendy begged of him. "Not my stomach. Please."

"And why not?"

"It hurts!"

"Well, that's kind of the idea," he replied.

Shawn stepped back and balled up his fist again. Wendy attempted to harden herself to it, but with pain still billowing in her left side, it hurt to even do that. But she had to. He came forward again and sank his fist into almost the exact same spot he had the first time. Wendy gritted her teeth as the grunt escaped her and a fresh molten wave of magma pain started exploding in her belly. She tried to bend forward to relieve herself, but it was no use trying. All she could do was wait it out.

Only seconds passed before Shawn came at her again, planting his fist on the other side of her hurting midsection, starting a new explosion inside of her on top of the first one. Wendy struggled to gasp for breath, as he had almost completely knocked it out of her, but before she could even get two small gasps in, she bellowed in pain as he delivered the fourth punch, square over her belly button, smashing her innards against her spine and against the wall behind her.

That had been the worst punch yet.

Right about now was the point at which Wendy realized that she had not been to the bathroom since falling asleep at her computer, and she barely even remembered when that had been. All she knew was that right now, she had to go, and if he didn't stop hitting her pretty soon, she might not be able to hold it.

Shawn moved in again and sank in his fist. Three fast, hard punches dead center to her abdomen. Wendy started to feel sick at the sound of listening to her own organs squelching in protest at each punch. Fluids gathered in Wendy's throat which she struggled to swallow before she inhaled them, but even inhaling was nearly impossible, and everything was happening so fast that she could barely concentrate through her pain.

Wendy unleashed two heaving coughs, miraculously opening up her air passages. She took in a long, drawling breath and Shawn stole the opportunity. He ran forward and put all of the inertia in his body into his fist, driving it forward and striking home. Wendy's vision went blurry as the ungodly strength of his fist shattered her resolve, and she soaked her ******* in urine.

"Alright, looks like progress," Shawn announced victoriously, alerting Steve to the stream that was now running down her legs over her tights, and soaking her socks, which were already soaked inside the shoes, to begin with. Wendy didn't speak. She was disgusted with herself, but she couldn't help it.

Before all the urine had even escaped, Shawn came back and threw two more punches at her reddened gut, urine splorching out of her and wettening the inside of her skirt. He followed up with two uppercuts, both of which literally lifted Wendy's feet off the ground.

The pain was too much. She had to change her mind now. She couldn't take it. She just needed to gather her breath enough to speak and tell him she would take the money if only he would stop, but he wouldn't give her a chance. He lunged forward again, this time scoring a six-hit combo on her now beet-red abdomen, first a right, then three lefts and two rights. Wendy never imagined that pain like this was possible. Sure, she had to answer to nature, as all young women did, and she had endured her share of the stomach flu virus.

But nothing like this. This pain was past the point of unbearable. After that six-hitter, Wendy was stunned, her mouth aghast, her eyes closed, tears streaming down her face. She could not believe that pain of this magnitude existed, and she was writhing in it right now.

Somewhere deep in the recesses of what little bit of strength Wendy had left, she managed to tap into it, and she mouthed the words, "I'll do it." She had no breath, but she had to try. She repeatedly mouthed the words. Thank goodness Shawn noticed.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I'll do it," she tried again, with nothing but a weak, throaty rasp accompanying her inflection.

"You'll do it? Well alright then, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Shawn said as he undid the cruel cords binding her hands. Wendy slumped lifelessly to the ground, defeated. The glistening in her eyes was a telling indicator of just how young, hurt, and scared she was at this moment. She curled up, clutching her throbbing, aching gut, grimacing at the blistering pain that was still gnawing through her badly beaten belly.

"You got two minutes, Wendy. Come on, let's get to it."

Wendy started going over it in her mind, how long would it take to walk to the safe and actually take the money. What was it, 20 seconds? She could still lay here for at least a minute and a half or so, right? All that mattered right now to Wendy was the pain. The excruciating pain. Any time that she could get to let it pass, she would take it. Wendy closed her eyes, almost on the verge of falling asleep.

"One minute left. Let's go!"

Okay, Wendy thought. Better get on with this. She slowly rolled over so that her back was toward the ceiling. She still had both arms cradled over her hurting stomach. She froze there for about 10 seconds. Finally, she put one hand on the ground and pushed herself up to one knee. She barely even noticed as one of the guys said "There you go..." in encouragement. With one hand still cradled over her belly, she wrapped the other around a pole and used it to pull herself up. She planted her first foot on the ground, then her second. These shoes were killing her, surely she had passed the 20-hour mark by now. And just to think, in another 4 hours she'd be right back in them to start another day.

Wendy wobbled a couple of steps, then doubled over, still on her feet, but both arms back over her stomach again, trying unsuccessfully to alleviate any of this terrible pain that they could.

"20 seconds, Wendy."

She turned toward the office and went inside, and up to the safe. She stood there, staring at the money. At this, the final moment, was when her Catholic upbringing set into overdrive, and she was reminded of the wrongdoing that she was about to commit. How could she possibly do this? How could she even think of it? Sure, these guys were beating the living daylights out of her, but that was no reason to stoop to their level. If she had learned one thing in life, it was that no matter what, no matter what! You don't do this. She had to outlast these guys, and though her pain was immense, she would not give in to them. She couldn't.

Of course, in reality, had her parents been here to advise her, they would have said to take the money and just deal with the consequences later. But Wendy was too young, too naive, to think like that.

She would take the beating. She could handle it. As long as she did no wrong, everything would be okay. Despite the thundering pain in her belly, Wendy nodded to herself and made her choice. She took her arms down from her belly, even though it still hurt like hell. She turned around and emerged from the office, empty-handed.

"I will not stoop to your level. No matter how much you do this, I won't. My decision has been made." Wendy felt a surge of strength, fleeting though it was destined to be. She was proud of herself and even managed to smile.

The two guys sighed and proceeded to tie Wendy's hands back up with the cord. Wendy's fleeting moment of strength and pride quickly dissolved, perhaps because somewhere deep inside, she thought that she would actually get to them with her resolve. No such chance of that now. The pain still burned in her stomach, and this was only the beginning.

Wendy prayed. "Dearest Father in Heaven, I will not betray you. No matter how much it hurts, I won't. I promise. But please, God, let this end soon. Please, dear God. I beg of you, please let this..."

Her soft prayer was brutally interrupted by a fist of Steve, hammering into her solar plexus and driving all breath from her. She let out a loud "OOOOMMMMFFF!", instantaneously forgetting that she had even been praying. So it appeared that Steve was picking up where Shawn left off on her aching tummy.

Steve was a notch stronger than Shawn, though he didn't look it. His second punch landed square on that left kidney, where it seemed most of the pain was originating. Wendy squirmed in her confinement and started kicking her legs, which Shawn then proceeded to shackle. Through gritted teeth and buckets of sweat, Wendy tried as hard as she could to draw air into her lungs, but Steve obliterated any hope of that with a hammering elbow to her chest. It landed just under her breasts and completely shut off her windpipe.

Wendy tried and tried again, but the air wouldn't come. And the pain slicing through her ribs made it no easier. Her insides had been almost literally flattened. Wendy's body convulsed as she repeatedly struggled to draw air into it. After about a dozen or so tries, her face turning increasingly blue, Wendy managed to break through and start sucking air into her lungs as best she could. Mercifully, the guys gave her enough of a break to recover, but it really was only so that she would last longer for them.

Wendy gasped and gasped, each gasp a throaty inhuman sound akin to that of a car struggling to start on a weak battery. Intermittent coughing fits ensued in between gasps. The color returned to Wendy's face, and so she was ready for more punishment.

Steve returned to continue his workout on Wendy's severely beaten tummy. He threw fists one at a time for a total of four, on both sides of her belly button. Each fist splished, splashed, and sploshed through Wendy as though she were pudding. Wendy's resolve was shattering quickly, but how could she give up now? She had promised God that she wouldn't. This was past the point of even so much as having a choice now, right? But the pain was past the point of what she could take. She could only hope that it would end soon. She knew she could stop it, but she wouldn't. For her God, she would persevere. She had to.

Shawn returned to take Steve's place, thankfully. Not that it mattered, now that her stomach had been reduced to a blubbering pile of Jello. Shawn drew back and with all his might he came forward, sinking his fist dead into the center of Wendy. She gritted her teeth as her stomach obediently wrapped itself around his fist, taking all of him in, up to the wrist. She coughed several times, one of the coughs getting interrupted by her stomach having to swallow another fist of his.

Wendy expected that they had to be finishing up here any second now. They had both had a turn, surely this would get boring by now. But it didn't.

Shawn followed up with two punches to each side of Wendy, all four punches achieving full penetration into what was left of the mush that was her insides. Shawn wiped his brow.

"I can't believe this," he remarked.

"So what are you gonna do? I mean she's not giving up," Steve commented.

"She'll give up, believe me."

"Yeah, but man, look at her face. She is really hurtin'."

"Well, she's not hurtin' enough apparently," Shawn remarked, the anger in this statement turning into fuel for his next barrage of punches to Wendy, a dozen in all. Wendy concentrated on God as the fists slammed through her, tearing her apart, pushing the pain to new levels of which should not exist in this world or any other. She thought it would never end. Her stomach was screaming bloody murder, begging her to give in. She desperately needed to give in. Dizziness was starting to set in, and Wendy got the feeling that she might not have much left to give. She had to stop now. She had to. But she couldn't. She couldn't betray her values. She said she would take the beating, she had to just take it.

Steve took Shawn's place again before Wendy and went to work right away hammering on her. She lost count of the punches, she was too badly beaten to struggle or to even react to half of them. One punch. Then another. They came harder, and faster. It got to the point where one punch didn't mean anything, despite how massive the pain of one punch could be. In his overzealousness, Steve managed to pelt Wendy's gurgling innards with almost 80 punches in a minute. Her utterly tenderized midsection swallowed them all, inflicting the full intended amount of pain for each punch delivered. It was the worst minute of Wendy's life.

Wendy cried hard as she now started to struggle to regain her breath. There was no one, no parent, no doctor in the world that could make this better now. She felt the inhuman scream of her insides, still gurgling with viscous, undiluted pain. She couldn't move, but she had to if she wanted that sweet, sweet air. She was badly damaged now and hurting more than she had ever imagined. Right now, there might as well have been 20 knives all stabbing her in the gut at once, twisting, and stabbing again, and twisting again. After nearly 90 seconds of not breathing, and on the verge of passing out (which would have been great), Wendy suddenly felt it loosen inside, and she took in a breath.

Steve, drew back and hammered his fist into Wendy again. This time, after his fist made contact, he continued to push it forward and upward, twisting his fist back and forth, deep up into Wendy from side to side, grinding into her. A little blood-spattered from Wendy's mouth, dribbling down her chin. With this, the fullness of Wendy's resolve, her will, her lifeblood, was spent.

Wendy lost all control, and for only the second time tonight, unleashed a terrifying scream that could have brought tears to the eyes of even the most hardened veteran. Steve backed away, shocked that she lasted this long before doing it again.

"Okay, okay," Wendy insisted, hyperventilating. "Please... stop... it hurts... stop... it hurts too much... I'll do anything. Just, please. It hurts too much. I'll do anything. Oh God, it hurts..." Wendy was not thinking rationally, much less spiritually. She was operating on pure animal instinct, and she was now the ant under the magnifying glass. It had to stop. Nothing else mattered, not even God. He wasn't a part of her thoughts at this point.

The two guys released Wendy, and she crumpled to the ground, again curling up into a ball, sobbing her eyes out.

"Two minutes," Shawn insisted.

But Wendy couldn't even move. She tried changing her position slightly, only to feel the knives ripping through her side with each move.

"Dude," Steve said, "I don't think she can get up."

"Need you to..." Wendy started, ripping into a coughing fit that was accompanied by more blood. "Carry me to the safe." Her voice sounded like that of a 90-year old woman who had smoked two packs a day since high school.

Shawn and Steve took their positions by Wendy's near-lifeless body and took an arm each. Wendy squealed in pain again as they dragged her badly beaten bruised body to the safe. Shawn pulled her arm out from behind his neck and placed it at the safe. Wendy reached in obediently and took her share of the money.

"Okay," Shawn said. "Mission accomplished. Let's go home."

"You said it," Steve replied as they dragged Wendy and her newly acquired cash to the truck. They refastened the buttons on Wendy's shirt, undid the belt over her skirt, and pulled it back over the dress shirt, so that it was tucked in again, and refastened the belt. Then they lay her in the back of the truck, where she instantly curled up as tightly as she could.

On the drive home, Steve could hear Wendy praying, while crying uncontrollably, in the back of the truck.

"Dearest Father, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry! I couldn't help it. It hurt too much. The pain... it was too much. I'm so sorry. Oh God, it hurts, it hurts too much."

Somehow by a freak of science may be, Steve managed to feel some genuine sympathy for this tattered wing beside him in the back of the truck.

They pulled up outside of Wendy's house and proceeded to drag her body to just outside her bedroom window. Out of fear of waking the parents, they didn't push her inside, they merely left her outside the window to get in herself. They ran back to the truck, still laughing, and sped away.

In the grass, with her cash, Wendy was still crying, still apologizing to God. Physically, she was beaten beyond all comprehension, and even getting in this window would be a challenge. But maybe if she just waited, gave it some time... but time is a strange thing, especially when you're asleep.

The next thing Wendy remembered was being awakened in a hospital bed, having been found by her parents that morning. All of the pain was gone, thanks to wonder drugs. Her parents stood faithfully by Wendy's side, both of their eyes b******* with tears.

"Hey guys," Wendy said weakly.

"Hey kiddo," her father managed through a broken voice.

Doctors came and went, as did time, but eventually they figured out what the cause of Wendy's injuries had been, and it wasn't long before her father grilled her about it. Wendy explained everything. The story was a long one, and by the end of it, her father had been reduced to tears again.

"Listen, babydoll. It's not your fault. Do you hear me?"

Wendy nodded.

"It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong." He slowly kissed the back of her hand. Wendy shut her eyes and smiled. "You just sleep, baby doll," he continued. "You just sleep."

He turned around and made his way to the hospital exit, pure hellfire in his eyes.

March 29, 2022 7:35 AM