Broke Blondie

I was amidst the most disgusting and humiliating experience of my life. My arms ached trying to end it, to no success; she was just so strong.

But this wasn't even the worst of it. That strange feeling was creeping up on me again. I hope I could say it made it better, but it didn't. It just mounted my fears that some part however small in me wasn't absolutely disgusted by this. I mean I was being bullied for fuck's sake... Another girl was freely grinding her sweaty soles all over my helpless face and I should be feeling completely disgusted and humiliated; there shouldn't be the least amount of pleasure, but there was. And it freaked me out.

After my face had been rubbed raw, the pressure of her feet eased, and they shifted down on my face slightly. The balls of her feet rested on my mouth and her toes on my nose, allowing me to open my eyes and look at her. My eyes must've spilled fire, cause she gave me this apologetic smile. Knowing she was barely resting her feet there, I pushed them away aggressively. My face was red as it burned hot with anger and humiliation both, and my hair stuck to my sweaty forehead.

She seemed trying to suppress a giggle, before she pushed her hair behind her ear and smiled at me innocently. "This wasn't really nice of me was it?"

Zero remorse. Not that I expected her to show any. Rage and fear rushed through me together, but mostly, I felt like a victim. "I think I'm going to bed." I sniffled as I got up and walked towards our room.

"Come on don't be like that, I was only fooling around!" she whined irritability, as if I was being unreasonable.

"Hem." I nodded but didn't stop walking, until I reached the bedroom and closed the door behind me.

I kicked my shoes off and didn't bother to change my clothes. I decided to finish my unpacking in the morning, and went right to bed.

I grew anxious thinking about the bully that I had to live with now. That's what she was, a bully. She was just like Martha. Only difference was, I could stand up to Martha. It was hard, but I managed to do it when I had to. And what terrified me now, was that unlike with my cunty ex-friend, if this escalated to physical confrontation, I would get my ass kicked; hell, Kris would probably enjoy it.

Not wanting to pass by the living room where Kris was still watching TV, and wanting to go to sleep before she enters, I decided against going to the bathroom, and just rubbed my hands over my sweat-stained face and tried to fall asleep.

I thought about calling my sister again, but I doubted she'd care. Sleeping with my face stinking of another's girl's foot stench wouldn't constitute dead or fighting for your life.

My eyes fluttered open to the sounds of plates clanking. I stretched my arms and yawned. Daylight was shimmering through the windows of the living room, and I would say it was around 10:am, which sucked, considering I usually wake up 5 hours past that time. I sat straight, feeling the leather of the couch detach itself from my skin, and was greeted with the sight of Kris sitting on her recliner holding a mug of coffee.

"Morning..." I groaned, before my eyes pleasantly noticed my hot cup of coffee on the table. "Thanks."

She only nodded, giving me a blank look, too blank. She sat there awaiting, dressed in the same clothes as the day before, as she crossed one leg over the other and dangled one slippered foot impatiently.

I didn't know if I just happened to wake up when she made coffee, or if she had woken me up intentionally. Probably the latter, considering the not so pleased look on her face. I was too sleepy to give the explanation she was waiting for. I leaned in and grabbed my cup, taking a sip, steeling myself.

"Have a goodnight's sleep?" she cocked her head.

"...Yeah." I winced. "About that..." I forced myself to gulp under her menacing stare. Last night, I woke up twice, and both times it was because I felt a sharp pain in either my waist or my stomach. She was beating me in her sleep. I had stayed laying there for like half an hour, before I decided to go out and sleep on the couch. I mean how serious could she be about not wanting me to sleep on the couch. Judging by the dead-eyed look she gave me now, I would say she was pretty serious.

My voice flew out as a high-pitched whine as I explained myself. "I just couldn't sleep with you in the same bed. You kept punching me!"

"I specifically told you not to sleep on the couch." She said firmly.

"But you kept punching me."

"I warned you about sleeping beside me didn't I."

"Well that didn't leave me with a lot of options now did it."

"You can sleep at--"

"And I don't want to sleep at the foot of the bed." I whined.

"Why not!"

"Cause you will kick the shit out of me while I'm down there!" Even though it wasn't the main reason, it was the one I could give her, as it was something that she could surely understand.

"No I wouldn't!" She shook her head like I was stupid. "Bed is big and I'm not that tall. My feet would be nowhere near you."

I grunted, feeling stuck. I was her roommate, and the older woman. Did she really not see how wrong it was for me to sleep at the foot of her fucking bed. I mean it would be okay if it was a one-time thing as a temporary measure, but to expect me to sleep there every night? Did she really not find anything wrong with that?

Amidst my confusion, an idea popped into my head. It wasn't that glamours, but it was worth a try, even if to make a point rather than to get anything out of it. "Well..." I said, trying to sound confident. "Why don't I sleep up, and you sleep down there?" I ignored her frown and continued. "You know, since you don't think there's anything wrong with it?"

"I'm sorry, I'm a bit confused..." She said, her eyes narrowing aggressively. "Whose house is this?"

It was my turn to frown. Of course. "Yours."

"Whose bed are we sleeping in?"

"...Yours."

"If one had to... who should sleep at the foot of whose bed?"

I couldn't really argue with that logic could I. "...Me."

I still felt like she needed to loosen up her rules a bit--or a lot--but it was her house after all, her couch, her bed, her rules that I should abide by, cause, when it comes down to it, my alternative was still sleeping on the street. "I'm sorry."

She just raised a palm, as if to tell me not to worry about it. "No problem. This should work. We can be best of friends." She smiled. "You just have to respect my boundaries without complaints, considering this is my house which I'm not charging you a penny to live in."

I didn't find it difficult to agree with that, so I simply nodded, with my mind occupied by a different more important thought, one that her mentioning the word boundaries had reminded me off. "About that..." I said. "Boundaries and what not. Could I lay some of mine too, or are those reserved for the Landlord." I chuckled nervously, and fortunately she did too.

"Sure." She shifted on her recliner and got more relaxed. "What's up?"

"Last night." I said. "..." I halted. Suddenly I found it hard to describe what happened last night in words. I found it embarrassing, like I didn't want to acknowledge it. "I really didn't like the way you behaved. I didn't like your behavior."

"What are you talking about?"

.........really?

My expression made it clear, and she continued. "Oh..." She recrossed her legs unconsciously. "That behavior."

"Yeah that." I said, half seriously half friendly. "So please... don't do it again. Okay?"

After a brief silence during which she gave the wall behind me a calculating look, she just shook her head. "If we're gonna live together, I want us to behave freely around one another. I was just fooling around. It's no big deal. Don't be a baby."

...Was that a no? I looked unimpressed, and my confusion was clear on my face. "Look... what are you... I'm just asking you to... stop doing something that I don't like, that you have absolutely no reason for doing... so what's the matter...why not just... knock it off alright?" I shrugged, showing off my confusion as for why she was making a big deal out of this.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, getting under my skin, before she looked at me and her eyes turned playful. "If you're such a tough girl, stand up for yourself if I do it again. You know... stop me."

I was standing up for myself, by telling her not to do it, wasn't I? That was how people interacted. I do something that the other person doesn't like, they tell me to knock it off, and I knock it the fuck off.

But I suppose it wouldn't help my case to explain that to her, so I just looked at her, my mouth gaping slightly, unsure of what to say.

When she figured I wasn't going to say anything, she shrugged her shoulders and grabbed her phone, and started scrolling. "You still have some unpacking to do." She nodded towards my suitcases by the door.

"Right!" I rose to my feet, grabbed them, and headed to our bedroom.

Having finished unpacking, I stood in the room, and same as last night, didn't know what to do. But something told me I should be filling my time with finding a job--a.k.a. get the fuck out of here ASAP. Luckily, I was already dressed in my jeans and blouse. My hand halted before I had opened the door, and I grew anxious as for whether Kris would let me leave. The fear lingered in my mind for a bit before I shook my head and sighed, realizing how ridicules my worry was. It was none of her business. I walked into the living room, where Kris was lying on her recliner still sipping on her coffee, her laptop in her lap.

"Hey," I said to her as I walked to the door. "I'm heading out for a bit okay." I half-opened the apartment's door, expecting a quick response.

She looked up from her laptop, a confused look on her face. "Where to?"

"Emm..." I stuttered. "...I was thinking I would, you know... go job-hunting."

Her head reclined back slightly, before her calculating eyes drifted away from me then back. She rose her hands, her face wrinkling as if there was something she didn't understand. "You... live here for free. You know that right?"

"Yeah." I nodded.

"All expenses included. Utilities, food--"

"Yeah yeah..." I shuffled my feet, unreasonably growing nervous. "I just thought... Sooner or later I will have to get my own place. You know... I can't keep sleeping on your couch forever." Or at the foot of your bed.

"Why?" She chuckled. "I would have no problem with that."

"..." I looked down at the ground, then at the ceiling, anywhere except for her face, then managed to say, "I would."

Her eyebrow raised, her face blank, she nodded, then shook her head and said indifferently. "Well suit yourself. But Jen. We--" She gestured towards the door. "Close it for a sec will you. Whole building is hearing us."

"Oh." I closed the door then leaned against it.

"Okay." She said, "We have an agreement. You get to live her for free granted that you'd do the chores." She said, her tone was friendly but firm.

"Yeah..." I looked around the perfectly clean apartment. "And I will, when there's any."

Her face didn't show signs of agreeing.

"Kris I moved her just yesterday." I snickered. "And the apartment is perfectly clean."

"So." She shrugged. "There's still shit to do. A ton of it."

I frowned, wanting but resisting to just walk out the door. I just crossed my arms. "Like what?"

"For starters, the bathroom." She pointed her thump back. "Have you seen the bathroom. And the kitchen." She looked back, and it literally sparkled. "Okay kitchen is clean but the garbage needs taking out. OH--" She looked abruptly to the washing room. "And the laundry. My basket is like stuffed."

Many lines battled in my mouth at once. Can I do them when I come back? I'll take the garbage on my down. I never said I'll wash your laundry!

I choose the ones that would get me through the door the fastest. "Look relax, okay. I'll take the garbage now on my down... and I'll do the rest when I get back. I promise."

She crossed her own arms, and looked at me, her teeth biting on her lower lip. She didn't look happy. A brief moment passed before she shook her head again. "As far as I'm concerned, this... job-hunt is a personal matter. It's up to you but I'd prefer it if you stay true to your responsibilities first. Then you can do whatever you like." She said and looked back at her computer screen, leaving me standing there.

Chores weren't a problem...until now. She didn't give a shit about chores. She just hated that I was considering to search for a job.

It didn't take me long to cave. "Fine." I sighed, and walked away from the door.

"Thanks." She said, her eyes not leaving her screen. "What your gonna start with?"

"Emm." I thought. "...Bathroom I guess."

"Cool." She said indifferently.

Cool.

Chores were a strange thing to me. At my old house, which my cunt of a sister resided in now, we used to have a maid. Then when I lived with my friends, the nice ones didn't let me do any work considering I would only live with them for a couple of weeks max, and the not so nice ones were pigs, didn't care for no chores. And my last couple of apartments smelled like piss no matter how much I cleaned them, so I didn't.

So, to say the least, I found this new experience tedious tiring and boring. Bathroom wasn't that dirty. Even the toilet wasn't that bad. But it was the idea that it wasn't mine, that I hadn't even used it once, that kept my frustration raging. It was disgusting enough having to scrub my shit stains of a toilet ball, ripping my hair off the shower's sink, but the fact that I was doing that for another girl, one that I had a growing disliking towards, and on her command, made me want to scream. But of course, all I did was strengthen my grip on the toilet brush and scrub harder.

It took me a while to really wipe everything clean in there, shorter than expected but longer than I hoped. I walked to the washing room next. I managed my expectations, and didn't really hope for the laundry basket to be small, but I didn't expect it to be this big. It reached my stomach, and its lid was parted, with hanging sleeves and leggings legs dangling over it.

I sighed. At least the washing machine looked high-quality, and it was big, so the whole thing wouldn't be that time consuming.

I flung the basket lid open, then instinctively held my hand over my nose, protecting myself from the wave of hot stench that erupted from what had to be weeks' worth of Kris's dirty clothes. Not time consuming, just revolting.

I didn't know why, but other girls' scents always had a strange effect on me. I gather it was mostly disgust, but there was some other feeling, a slight one that mostly made me anxious and nervous. I didn't know why, and I didn't really have to think about it; I just kept my distance from my friends, it had been easy. But now it wasn't, with Kris. More and more I was finding myself forced to be close to her in more than one way, like that mean stunt she pulled when she ground her feet all over my face. Along with disgust I felt something that wasn't necessarily bad, just weird.

For about five minutes, I stood over the stink-basket and started digging out all her sport clothes first, which amounted to almost half the basket. I pushed those into the machine and started it, and as soon as I did, her footsteps erupted as she walked my way.

"Hey!"

"Hey..." I turned to see her leaning against the doorframe, a questioning look on her face. "Just doing your laundry here." I tapped the basket with my palm, tried to sound as indifferent as possible, but I knew some of my frustration made it to my tone.

"Yeah I see that..." She walked in. "Just wanted to tell you. Whites together and colored together."

"I'm not a retard." I smiled.

"Just in case." She chuckled. "And..." She crouched down beside me and looked into the basket searchingly. "You haven't put any of my delicates in there..." She pointed to the washing machine. "Have you?"

"...Emm no." I shook my head. I didn't want to hear her next line.

"Good girl." She nodded, delighted. "Delicates by hand okay?"

"...Delicates..." I looked down at the floor. "By hand?" I wasn't asking but it sounded like a question anyway. I was just trying to figure out how to respond.

"Yeah..." She answered. "The basin here." She nodded towards a pink basin beside the door. "Cool?"

"..."

She titled her head. We were crouching beside each other, and her face was an arm's length from mine, which, made it that much harder to argue with her, and for some reason, put me at unease. Her delicate features seemed to never stop putting me at unease. I nodded, wanting the conversation over. "Cool." It came out as shaky and weak, and it put a smile on her face. She nodded and stood up, which allowed me to exhale a sigh of relief. I had only started digging my hands in the basket to fish for her delicates, when she said, "What are you doing?"

"...Getting your underwear out." I said, "I want to wash them while the Machine finishes."

Her eyes narrowed, like I said something stupid, then she shook her head while she shifted closer. "You're doing this all wrong. Here..." With that, she grabbed the half-full basket, lifted it, flipped it over and dumbed the mountain of clothes down, half on the floor, and half on top of my head and shoulders.

My hands froze up on my sides and my eyes were closed shut, with my whole body tensed and my face probably red. Didn't know if it was unintentional, or if she just...didn't think much of it, or if it was just another dick-move. But I was covered with all kinds of rank pants and shorts and socks and panties and lingerie. I opened my eyes and looked up at her. If my face held any kind of resentment, she must've not noticed it, cause she continued, "See, like that you don't have to dig for them. Less trouble. Right?"

I nodded, my jaw too clenched to say anything, and held up a thumps-up with my tensed hand.

"Great." She walked out. "You don't have to do'em all by the way. Just my underwear for now. And you can keep them on the floor for when you want to do them later. Just... keep this door closed..." She held the doorknob, ready to close it. "Don't want all this stench to fill the house. Nauseating." She gave me a friendly smile as she closed the door.

Fuck her.

After sorting her delicate clothes out, I put them in the basin after filling it with water and soap and then got the hell out of the stink-room holding the basin in hand.

Kris was lying on the couch, so I took a seat at the recliner butting the basin in my lap, and started rubbing a pair of red panties clean in the water.

She turned down the volume of whatever show she was watching, before she started a conversation with me. We talked for a bit while I worked. As with all our previous conversations, she mostly asked the questions, and I mostly answered them. I talked about Highschool which I hadn't done that well in, and college, which I had dropped out from. The conversation eventually veered to my love life.

I never had a long-time relationship. I just fooled around a couple of times in senior year, and a little in first year of college, and then turned monk. I just didn't feel an urge to seek someone after that, and even before then, I only did it cause it seemed like it was what everyone did, especially my friends. And it was easy. I wasn't one to think that I was a catch just because I was blonde, blue-eyed and slim, but a ton of boys seemed to think so, so it was a bit effortless to get dates. However, most of them started as boyfriends and ended up as just friends. I had a ton of male friends for some reason; found it less stressful to hang out with them.

I explained most of that to Kris, and weirdly, she seemed amused by what she heard. I didn't think much about it, as most of her reactions seemed to not make sense.