Futanari Notebook Ch. 15

"Where do you think you're going, shit face?" The powerful girl sneered and turned to her cohorts, "Zoey, get over here."

Why couldn't she stay out of it? Zoey wanted to stand aside and pray that it might end soon, or for Gretchen to get struck by a meteor, but she couldn't. What Gretchen wanted, she got. Without question.

"I'm going to hand you a few things. If little miss 'goodie-two-shoes' here does anything, you're gonna break them," Jenna visibly relaxed, assured that neither she or her belongings would be harmed for the moment, "Then again, if I don't like it, just break it."

"I don't..."

Gretchen's glare silenced her, still fuelled by her prior insubordination. The athlete hung her head and nodded, wincing at the chill that passed through her body. Even shrunken, she was Gretchen's Pit Bull, owned for the sole purpose of destroying whatever she was given. Jenna tensed as her pack was opened. She said nothing. Smart move, any words would set Gretchen off, regardless of their intention.

Beg, and she would do it more. Fight back, and she would hurt you. No grey area.

"Hmm, oh hey, pretty expensive phone you've got here," Gretchen sneered and pulled out a high-end cell phone, "Probably cost you a lot."

"It was a present," Jenna said. Big mistake, Zoey thought and glanced at Gretchen, whose cruel grin extended as she handed the device over. Jenna made a grab for it and had the air knocked from her lungs as she plummeted to the ground. The blonde sat atop Jenna's knees and pinned her arms behind her back.

"Break it," Gretchen ordered, staring into and past Zoey's eyes. Her gaze grabbed the beast and dragged it to the surface. Any idea of opposition melted. If she were to refuse then Gretchen would turn on her and, at that point, she couldn't fathom what she might do. As it stood, Zoey was surprised Gretchen was so restrained.

She tightened her grip on the phone and bent. It cracked and snapped in two after a minute of strain, all while Jenna looked on in rage, split now between both Zoey and Gretchen. The blonde reached back into the bag and rifled around.

"Bingo!" She pulled out a notebook, one with an ornate cover and elegant scrawl that read 'Diary'. Gretchen handed it over, "Don't tear it up yet. Read it for us."

"Isn't that going too..." Another glare and her voice trailed into silence.

"Don't wanna do it, then fuck off and I'll deal with you later. Maybe this bitch will help out with that? I mean, you did just destroy her phone."

"Because you..."

"Shut it! Get reading."

"I... yes," Zoey shrank back, "Where do I start?"

"Find something about a crush or whatever. Or maybe she writes about dirty shit?" Gretchen cackled, "Do you write about fingering yourself? I bet you're a real slut. The plain ones always are. Maybe you get off fisting your ass?" Her hand crashed down on Jenna's rear with a resounding smack. Silence followed, broken only by Jenna's pained whimpers.

"Oh, I think I know what I'm gonna do with you. Fuck the diary, we're going to the gym."

They moved to the gym storage room. Basic equipment occupied the space. Gymnastic mats, a basket of disused and deflated balls, some skipping and climbing rope. A single window stood sentry, cracked and ajar, letting the damp and chill air in. The smell of mould filled the room as it grew in the upper corners. A deep crack lined the far-right wall and drops of rain leaked through the roof.

Zoey hated this. She hated it because of herself more than anything. How could she be so weak, as to stand there and do nothing? Every other thought she had craved to escape or put an end to the scene before her, yet neither were heeded. The poor girl whimpered beneath Gretchen, whose sadistic merriment worsened with each noise. In one hand, she held a marker, in the other a pair of sharpened scissors.

Any other person would've kept their thoughts to themselves or joked about going through with it. Gretchen had no such filter. She set aside the marker and ran the scissors along Jenna's shirt, severing it and her bra. The girl yelped in pain. A faint line of red formed above her belly button where Gretchen nicked her. The same had already been done to Jenna's skirt, leaving her naked save a patch of her torn panties on her crotch.

"You," Gretchen said as she reclaimed the marker. Jenna squirmed, arms bound over her head in rope, while her legs kicked futilely under Ashley's body, "Are going to walk out of here. Don't worry about that. But I need to make sure everyone knows what a stupid, little shit you are."

Jenna released several muffled sounds, incapable of forming words around the remains of her skirt, though her intent was clear. She wanted this to stop. She was sorry. She wouldn't do it again. Gretchen remained ignorant. To her, those sounds were pleas for help, a noise she savoured.

Zoey stood in a corner facing Gretchen. Rachel was on lookout, since the proceedings were certainly assault. Any of them could call the police. A few pictures of evidence, combined with Jenna's testimony and Gretchen would be in deep trouble. The bitch wouldn't even know which of them it was. Zoey dug her nails into her palm and shook.

If so, then why didn't she do it. What was stopping her? The idea of loyalty to Gretchen was a joke in itself, if given the chance she or Rachel would gladly throw her under the bus. It wasn't out of the hope that she might change her ways. Zoey hadn't seen anything different to what she saw now, nothing but a vindictive slut, as it had been since they met. Only Mary had reigned her in. She was gone now, leaving Gretchen's malice unchecked.

"Find anything good yet, Ashley?" Gretchen giggled as she scribbled on the girl.

"She's got a boyfriend," Ashley answered.

"Wow," she sounded genuinely impressed, "Is there a phone number?"

"Yeah."

"I'm gonna give him a call. Maybe he can stop by? Then you can watch," Gretchen turned her full attention back to Jenna, whose upper body was debased in terrible words and doodles, "As I rock his fucking world."

Jenna jerked at that. Her head lurched forward and connected with Gretchen's chin. Zoey stared in shock as the queen bee snapped her head back into place, similarly stunned, before clenching a fist, rearing it back and letting it fly.

"Bad move, retard!" Gretchen snarled and let loose a second punch. Jenna's nose broke and her cheeks were red and swelling, while tears streamed from her eyes.

"Stop it!" Zoey shouted. Gretchen's fury turned on her. She stood and rushed over, fist at the ready and murder in her eyes. She swung and Zoey side-stepped, grateful for her natural athleticism. The rapid escalation to Gretchen's behaviour meant nothing to her. Drunk or sober, Gretchen could change at the drop of a hat. Faster when her mood was already foul.

"You stupid shit! What makes you think you can say that to me?!" Gretchen demanded and grabbed at Zoey. She caught her collar and yanked close, "You're so fucking worthless, you know that? Look, I don't even have to hit you. You're pathetic. You always will be. So shut the fuck up and watch like a good bitch. Maybe if you're lucky, I'll let you take a piss later. I own you."

What gave her the right? Bullies existed in every school, some bordered on psychopathic, but they could be controlled to some extent. For what reason did life see fit to gift this disgusting person with such freedom, to torture an innocent girl, to punch her, to claim ownership over someone? The thing about bullies, though, is that they always go too far. Someone fights back. No one had done so against Gretchen yet. No one was in as perfect a position as Zoey.

No cameras, no teachers, nothing to hold her back. Ashley wouldn't help, and Rachel was more liable to assist her rather than Gretchen. Gretchen's pride would keep her from letting slip how bad she was beaten. She wasn't stronger than others. They just couldn't do anything for fear of repercussion. None of their parents cared enough to get them into a new school, nor would they believe the stories about Gretchen.

Zoey could fulfil the student body's wildest dream.

"That's what I thought," Gretchen spat, a glob landed on Zoey's cheek, and shoved the girl away.

"You know something?" Zoey said, "I really, really hate you." From the bottom of her heart, she did. Gretchen was the worst person she knew, not quite on the level as some people on tv, but horrible nonetheless. She matched Kim Kardashian for how shallow and terrible she was, yet, in most eyes and those of Zoey's, she was hot. Scalding, even. The focal point of Zoey's recent fantasies.

What she wouldn't give to see her face covered in cum. But, for now, something thinner and crimson would suit her far better.

"Did I say you could talk?" Gretchen asked.

"Because of things like that. And this," Zoey looked to Jenna's bloodied face.

"What did I say?" Gretchen demanded and grabbed at her again. Zoey didn't have any self-defence training, but she had a basic understanding of someone's balance and how to disrupt it. She avoided the grab and kicked at Gretchen's knee, forcing her down. Before the blonde could say anything, Zoey pushed her back and straddled her stomach. Her arm muscles tensed and rippled across her skin as they worked toward a single goal; Gretchen's face.

The sensation of skin and bone on her fist was one Zoey hated. She'd experienced it several times before, when she was made to beat up someone Gretchen didn't like, but this was new. It still felt awful. The way her arm vibrated on impact, the crack of bone on bone, the feeling of Gretchen's cheek conforming around her knuckles. She could live without it, but not the absolute sense of relief and satisfaction she felt at the sight below her.

Gretchen didn't move, stunned into submission. But it wouldn't last.

Run. The thought finally reached Zoey's nerves as she raced from the room. Rachel blurred past, before she was pushed away by Gretchen. Zoey was long gone, though. She found her class, where she should've been since that morning. How long had Gretchen kept her? She didn't know, but it didn't matter. So long as she had a place with witnesses, the blonde couldn't do too much.

"It's her!" Someone yelled. Zoey glanced to the source and saw Holly, sat atop her table surrounded by classmates. The teacher had a pair of headphones on, music blaring to mask the vapid conversations of the class as they read a book. All students turned their attention on Zoey, eyes boring into her skirt. One squinted, another tilted her head, as if trying to decipher a Rorschach Test.

"I don't see it," Another girl said.

"Hold on," Holly said and strode up to Zoey.

"What's..." Her skirt was flipped up. A gasp echoed through the room in a wave, before laughter roared to life.

"Told you!" Holly chortled above the others. Their joy caught the teacher's attention, who turned to see Zoey shove her skirt into place.

Zoey didn't stay to hear anything else. She fled into the hall, away from the gym and classroom, from the haunting laughs. Then she stopped and peered into another room. It was quiet, no more than the usual chatter. Sat beside a window was Carmen, desk vacant and gaze fixated on the gloomy clouds above. Zoey's legs moved unbidden. If anyone noticed her, they said nothing. She stopped at Carmen's desk.

"Carmen?"

"Hmm?" The honour student turned, "What're you doing here?"

"I... I, uh..." Zoey's shoulders shook. Her hand hurt, as did her legs. Her eyes stung and her nose threatened to drip. Stop it. This is good. You did what she said, she'll be happy for you. "I punched Gretchen." Carmen's eyes widened. More words tumbled from Zoey's lips before the beast of her mind could swallow them, "And... and I... I have to tell you something."

A series of violent footsteps echoed from outside, "Later. You'd better hide." Carmen said.

"Y-yeah," Zoey sank down and folded herself under Carmen's desk. While there, she recognised the fiery warmth that coated her. It soothed the shaking, stemmed the tears and dulled the ache in her hand. She glanced to Carmen and found her vision engulfed in her shapely legs. Zoey took a long breath, drawing in the honour student's scent. Whether this sensation of peace was something unnatural, or a product of Carmen's presence made no difference. It merely solidified something in Zoey's mind.

She might be in love.