As her the pain in her arm and scalp mounted, a breathy, high pitched whimpering clawed it's way out of the blonde's throat despite all she could do to stop it. With no conscious decision on her part, the whining resolved itself into words “Please let me go … I'm sorry … please … please …”
Finally, her tormentor relented, and the bigger girl allowed the blond to slump exhausted to the sand. She rolled on her side, clutching her arm and moaning softly to herself as the brunette stood over her and laughed. Inwardly, the blonde gathered herself for another attack. Marshalling all of her failing strength, she looked up.
The Brunette towered over her, seeming to blot out the afternoon sun. She was tapping her foot and sneering, staring down at her rival, who was just getting to her hands and knees. She tapped her thick thigh brusquely and snapped “Heel, Bitch. Don't you fucking dare get up, either.”
The smug, satisfied tone in the brunette's voice grated on Blondie's nerves, and she felt her lips pulling back in a snarl as she glared up. She locked gazes with the big bitch, who stared down at her with a contempt so powerful that it hit the blonde like a blow. They stared at each other for a moment, the blonde shuddering with hate, the brunette barely moving at all.
Suddenly, the brunette took a short, quick step forward, twitching her hands towards the smaller girl. With a yelp, the blonde flinched backwards, flopping onto her but and anger instantly replaced by fear. She sees the gleam of power and confidence in the big girl's eyes, their power bearing down on her and she can feel herself wilting. Escape and victory seem equally impossible, and she wonders how she ever thought she could stand against the heavy strong woman before her. She tries to remember how the other girl looked earlier, beaten, spanked and abused by the guys on the beach, but the girl standing over her, all pride and power, doesn't even seem like the same person. The blonde bites her lip and finds she can't meet her opponent's gaze any longer.
The blonde slumps and stares at the sand in front of her, and it's obvious to all that the fight is over. There's something like relief in the brunette's voice as she snorts and laughs again. “That's what I thought. Now get the fuck over here.”
The blond girl's mouth is dry, and her heart is hammering in her chest. She can't entirely suppress a whimper as she slowly crawls toward the victor. She keeps looking inside for the anger and hatred that took her this far, but there's only a jagged fear that robs her of breath, and a certain measure of awe surging beneath it. |