Mean Girls of Maplewood Ch. 22

The ground began to shake as a loud deafening sound ramped up out of nowhere, something metallic and harsh. He could hear the sound of lesser trees being snapped in two as he stood looking up the incline at the oncoming source of the commotion. Something large was rolling down the hill taking everything with it as it approached. Kyle barely had time to jump out of the way as a totaled, car rolled down the hill taking everything with it as it went.

It was like nature itself was devouring the vehicle as shattered glass and metal flew from the tumbling vehicle. Before he even realized it, the car pitched over into the ravine followed a second later by a massive explosion. A huge crimson backlit cloud was rising out of the ravine as he cautiously followed the trail of destruction getting as close as the heat would allow before stopping outright.

"KYLE!! KYLE, ARE YOU OKAY?!!" Donna Lee came running from the brush into his arms. Both watched the rising smoke and flames as he dialed 911.

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Note: All characters in this story are of legal age. All of the characters are well over eighteen years of age.

I neither judge nor condone any of the heinous actions detailed in this chapter of MEAN GIRLS of MAPLEWOOD. That being said, I appreciate all comments on this story good and bad. Feedback feeds this tale of GIRLS GONE WILD and I would love to continue hearing from my audience.

*All characters appearing in this story are of legal age*

Mean Girls of Maplewood Ch. 22

"I'll buy that for a dollar!!" The vaudeville styled comedian yelled to canned studio audience laughter flanked on either side by two slutty dressed models who also laughed in disingenuous fashion.

The television on the dresser was playing one of six movies from a limited streaming service used by the motel. The cheap room had been picked up a little, personal items and things organized to suit its occupants limited obsessive compulsive disorder. The budding prostitute knew she wouldn't be staying long but couldn't forgo making herself at home, even in temporary lodgings. Six wads of cash bore the truth of that meticulous attention to detail bundled neatly on the dresser top in denominations of twenties, fifties, and lesser bills according to expected need.

April managed two more "customers" in the time since her one-time mentor hit the road for parts unknown. One john anxious enough to pay her fifty bucks just for a look before closing the deal. Now, she was showering to wash away the inherent degradation of a first night on the streets, selling herself.

Her bathroom door was cracked to allow the steam to filter out properly as she lingered under the almost scalding hot water leaning forward with both hands pressed against the dingy, tiled walls. She ignored the pain even as her paled skin took on a reddened hue except for the undersides of her huge breasts. April welcomed the stinging sensation across her scalp and the expanse of her back.

The hot water ran through her blonde hair cascading over her heated induced ruddy complexion. The inaugural night left the chubby misanthrope aching all over with sore feet and a droning inner monologue. Her crystal blue eyes were shut tightly, mind replaying the indentured trysts resulting in her current windfall of finances. A single face lingered amongst her thoughts. Plainly staring in mute indictment of method.

"Melissa?" Her eyes slowly opened peering through the steam and liquid deluge to find blood cascading down the tiles before her. April blinked profusely in horror at the verge of screaming before realizing nothing was there.

The shower walls glistened catching the low light of the single bulb at the bathroom's ceiling. The steaming water assailed her features washing away the heavy makeup around her expressive eyes. She ran fingers dually through her hair drawing out excessive moisture. She would repeat the motion a number of times in succession before cupping her own cheeks still intently focused on the tiled wall under the primitive shower head just over her crown.

Something was gnawing at her gut deep inside as she ran a hand towel over her muff. That brief image lingered making the miscreant uneasy before a growling stomach prodded her to step out of the standup shower. It took a few moments for her to lean in turning off the now cooling water.

April slowly craned her rounded head towards the bathroom mirror allowing herself a glimpse of her own reflection sans makeup. The person in the mirror stared back looking a pathetic caricature devoid of her war paint. A few seconds was all she could manage before glancing down into the sink where she'd dumped the contents of her makeup pouch. She quickly snapped up a vial of deep burgundy lipstick, applying it desperately.

Once her thin lips were well defined, she began applying a layer of base with a brush to even out her pale features. April was a self-taught makeup artist quickly able to master the craft due to a lack of friends and a solitary existence after being pulled from Maplewood high. It was no big deal to the teen who all of nineteen years of age was repeating a senior year after a disastrous stint in Christian camp.

She'd grown accustomed to being abused and exploited, almost shrugging it off with supernatural indifference.

Her bosom bloomed earlier than would be normally expected driving her devoutly religious mother to stifle her waking existence until she was on the verge of harming herself. The constant brow beatings, occasional whippings and abusive indifference left a girl primed for disaster when a jealous cheerleader appeared in her life. Psychotically angry fueled by that primal rage and entitlement, April had become a plaything twisted to mental extreme. Stalked even at a job that gave her some semblance of balance, this girl could find no peace until everything snapped apart. Almost a week earlier, a childhood friend and crush had come to her in the early morning intent on collecting on an unintentional, unrequited lust.

Her abundance of physical charm, her bust, made her a pariah amongst female peers resulting in constant bullying from the other girls while the boys reacted differently. April lost count of the many times her breasts were groped, pinched as dirty things were whispered into an ear now and then. She was no stranger to this sort of thing harboring a deep, personal shame and family secret along with muted blame from her own, similarly endowed mother.

April retreated into herself dramatically hiding her immense endowments behind layers of clothing and sweaters, dyeing her hair black and eschewing makeup of any kind in a bid to please an oppressive mother. She began haunting the edge of campus with her peers making it easy becoming invisible over time. She'd been gratefully allowed to pursue artistic interests in an outside school mobile classroom during the early morning hours.

Fate would not be denied however, rearing its ugly head with through the façade of a familiar face that overwhelmed and completely ravaged her. Assaulted in the worst way, left lying by someone she had intense feeling s for; April fell back on learned behavior justifying his actions until her eyes were opened. Red appeared in her life obviously to karmically push her to that next level, bullying her back into a dark place visited briefly in her past.

The auburn-haired creature continually taunted, beat and gaslighted her until she doubted her own sanity all while promising her a chance at retribution against a former crush. April doubted she would survive to see the promise fulfilled eventually becoming lovers with her tormentor one fateful night during a thunderstorm.

That promise would be fulfilled in dramatic fashion with the delivery of Bradford Tucker to an undisclosed location. Nude and shackled in a horse stall, April was left to do with him what she wanted in no uncertain terms, but the cost affected both of them. She hadn't considered the price until it was done as she walked out of a clinic the next to her mentor.

The gravity of what was done set in immediately Leaving her a blubbering mess of emotion. In fact she was so inconsolable that a trip to a wooded area was undertaken where she was repeatedly reminded of Brad's culpability, chided with savage intent until his face was all she could see. April left that secluded area almost salivating at the mouth thinking of what she would do to exact a righteous revenge.

She talked incessantly revealing her connected past with Tucker and the afternoon that catapulted her headfirst into his larger than life girlfriend. April chaffed inside remembering her intermediate self between the pathetic creature she was and her current iteration. It was akin to crawling on her belly engulfing the chubby teen with a stifling desperation to belong. It led her to a sycophantic relationship with her tormentor which blossomed into a growing starvation for acceptance, reciprocation.

She alternately gave herself over to the darkness letting it seep out of her being as she returned to her original hair color, finding her face in the sharp makeup heralding her deviant mindset to the world at large. Her love for the auburn-haired beauty blossomed out of abuse and benign neglect from her own mother.

Taking Brad Tucker that night right after his greatest triumph was mind blowing, shattering all expectations. He was unaware that she was sitting in those bleachers cheering along with everyone else as he won the big game.

She had been gifted a ticket placed right up front by his girlfriend, but Brad never noticed. Watching the frustrated quarterback reach his zenith unaware of what would happen, left her drenched between the legs. The horror on his face when he realized what was about to happen, nearly made her swoon. That first blood curdling scream made her legs tremble going all rubbery before she redoubled her efforts. His threats of violence melted away with the night into agonized begging before mute acceptance.

He broke into a thousand pieces after being forced to cum with his ass, still denying what she whispered wetly into his ear. They went back and forth arguing a bit before he was savagely prodded into a second orgasm while she giggled childishly. It was a revelation of sorts that washed over her along with the power or life and death over another human being. Brad realized that April held his life in her hands there in the darkness of the horse stall as she lost it making him cum again and again.

All of the religious zealotry flowed from her burgundy lips in a stream of conscious insanity until he was repeating the words with her. She even made our with him sloppily, still plunging three fingers into his backdoor while he wept. April continued her revenge well into the night until dawn found her still screwing the silent, buck broken football player into oblivion. She had no attention of stopping until her red-haired lover reappeared finding a scene that left even her staggered. She'd brought along a partner in crime who initially found the proceedings humorous talking up her own recent domination of one Humbert Jenkins.

April internally chafed at the comparison growing to festering dislike of the stunning brunette over time. Something didn't sit right from her newly "liberated" point of view of a trust fund baby blessed with looks and gifted station by her auburn mentor. It was subtle but continuous needling, leading questions and pillow talk opened an inroad into supplanting the co-queen of Maplewood High.

She'd become paranoid enough to seek out Humbert Jenkins initially to put a face to Leslie's bragging, but found herself sizing him up with deviant intent over time.

There was something in his pain that warded her off upon their initial meeting; a remembrance that should have saved him. But, after indulging a new hobby and skillset with a godless pervert who assaulted her girlfriend; April looked upon him with renewed eyes. She wanted to one up and destroy something her rival coveted, to the ninth degree. Thus, a relationship was fostered and nurtured with the clueless nerd with the intended end result being an epic pegging that would dwarf everything she'd done. Karma reared its ugly, snaggle toothed head once more snatching Humbert from her grasp at the ninth hour.

Karma continued rampaging through her life compelling her clueless, alcoholic mother to finally put her out of the home. Everything she owned had been thrown out onto the curb leaving the portly blonde to scavenge for the bare necessities, essentials. The experience had been liberating, leaving the nineteen-year-old with a perceived clean slate free of her mother's oppressive gaze.

There was no doubt in her mind at this point that she could take care of herself. A single night yielded enough money to pay rent for a few months over, but that wouldn't be necessary. Maplewood had become too small, tiny retracting inward expelling her from the town. She intended to put the town at her back for a promising world at large. Only one thing remained tethering her to the asphalt.

Melissa Reed a.k.a Red her tormentor, her mentor, the spiritual mother who'd given birth to her, after a fashion. April couldn't leave town without giving her lover another chance to join her in the future.

"You look so good; I could eat you up." April spoke to her reflection, now fully made up.

The demented cupie doll smiled back from the reflective surface of the bathroom mirror; skin glistening in a faux artificial radiance that made the short, buxom woman appear artificial. Unfortunately, a growling stomach interrupted her moment. April smirked realizing it was the first moment in a while that food hadn't been a factor in her life. She chuckled realizing the need for sustenance snatching up a brassiere from the closed toilet seat. It was work squeezing into the undergarment before she realized it was an older version.

Yet, she managed to push her breasts into undersized cups making them appear suitably massive even though there was no need. April cupped the outsides of her breasts pushing them together with a chuckle. The utilitarian flip knife disappeared in her cavernous cleavage next, completely hidden from view. April dug around in one of her bags of clothing retrieving a flowing black gauze skirt that thankfully covering her lower half completely. She continued fishing around in the tote settling upon a black Misfits wifebeater altered with the neckline cut out to accommodate her huge breasts.

The chubby blonde had to work to get into the shirt, not happy until her breast bulged decadently from the jagged neckline. A black denim vest completed her look as April opted for a pair of simple flip flops. She found the patch left behind by her second, albeit breath mentor into the world of prostitution. April made a mental note to attach it to her vest later after she was settled. She slid a number of bangle bracelets onto her left wrist, a studded wristband on the other to complete her look.

"I'll buy that for a dollar!!" The vaudeville styled comedian yelled to canned studio audience laughter flanked on either side by two slutty dressed models who also laughed in disingenuous fashion.

"Fuck you." April picked up the remote flicking off the movie which seemed to be playing on a loop.

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"Hey man, you know this is stupid, right?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, we're in a one-horse town, a small market and you wanna play reporter."

"Shit man, you still getting paid, so don't cramp my style." Brett Sawyer was a man with big ideas and ambition that dwarfed his current Maplewood location.

He'd managed a job working at the local television station with an eye towards becoming an on-air personality. His efforts were rewarded in comedic fashion when the station manager "promoted" him to a man on the street position. Unfortunately, he was packaged with one Jed Huck, a twenty-something employed at the station due to favor from the same station manager. Bernie their boss, sought to rid himself of two irritants with the chubby, younger guy filling a diversity quota because of his half Asian status.

"Nothing ever happens in this fucking town, Brett."

"Jed, you're paid to be my cameraman, okay? Besides, you supposedly get paid to go on a ride along man; I don't get your attitude bro."

"Miss me with that bro shit; you sound like a dork."

"Look you want me to find somebody else? Maybe I'll use uh, Connie; she seems like an enterprising young lady."

"Never gonna happen."

"Oh yeah, why's that?"

"Bernie's porking her; she's his side piece."

Brett's face scrunched up at the thought of his decidedly sleazy boss screwing a fairly attractive coworker. He himself, had designs on the woman's person from a latent narcissist's point of view. The fledgling reporter liked the fact that he was visually compared to Greg Kinnear by his peers.

"That's uhm, not good at all." Jed smirked knowing full well that his partner fancied the woman himself.

"You wasn't getting her either, Brett."

"Oh how's that, smart ass?"

"Connie's gay."

"But you said she was fucking Bernie; how's she gay, now?"

"He's the boss, that's different."

Before the men could continue further, two fire trucks barreled past them followed by an ambulance and patrol car. Both men looked at one another, quickly scrambling into the news van speeding off behind the caravan of emergency vehicles. Brett was excited thinking fate had finally cut him a break while Jed held on for dear life reaching for his camera. To celebrate the sudden occasion, Brett leaned in turning on the local station playing "Child in Time" by Deep Purple which bridged the immediate gap between the dueling ideologies of both men as they rocked out.

"Damn." Jed happened to be glancing out the window at the side mirror when he noticed a woman walking down the side of the road as they sped past. It was only a fleeting moment, but she had the biggest breasts he'd ever seen.

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"Ah shit; she's definitely taking it personal." Deputy Jimmy sat reclining in his patrol car finishing up a cigarette as he repeatedly tried to call his hookup Flora Bell getting no answer. He scoffed staring out his driver's side window at his unkempt yard. The unattended lawn mower sat in the middle surrounded by weeds.

"Well, guess I gotta stick my wick in some dead fish." He took one last drag on his cigarette putting it out on the outside of his car door.

Deputy Jimmy took a disparaging look around the front yard noting the errant trash and some kid's neglected big wheel oddly floating in a dilapidated kiddie pool half full of green tinted water. His mobile home was just the right kind of refurbished modest with a good patch of land and a nearby oak with a tire swing hanging from its strongest branch.

He removed his cowboy hat letting it hang at his hip staring at the broken down 1977 AMC Gremlin in the attached carport. It's garish soda orange color and accompanying white racing stripe were as cringe worthy as its dirt encrusted windows. Three full bags of trash sat on his front porch with flies swarming about making the deputy bristle.

"Ah got-dammit." He snatched up the bags noticing the unfinished porch also littered with used scratchers and lottery tickets.

Deputy Jimmy reluctantly hoisted the bags around the far side of his home to a dumpster enclosure shared with neighbors. One of the garbage bags tore apart littering the drive with trash. It took an additional ten minutes to wrangle the refuse into the dumpster soiling his hands in the process as he walked to the rear entrance of his home.

The back door was ajar, but the screen locked necessitating a hard knock which went unanswered. He cursed under his breath, forced to go in his pocket with dirty hands for house keys. Deputy Jimmy found the kitchen just inside cluttered and just as neglected. The first thing he noticed besides the oppressive humidity, was the stringent odor of weed.