Midge's Story Ch. 03-04

"You went first last time," Brad said.

"Yeah, and you went first two times in a row before that," Jim retorted.

Jesus -- I thought -- How many times had they done this?

"And I got the drugs," Jim added. I didn't hear Brad respond. I guess he shrugged his shoulder or nodded because I heard him walk out and the door close. I hear the door lock click. This was good. I can get Jim first. If I had Brad first, Jim could get freaked and run out of here. This is Brad's house. He's got nowhere to go. Then I heard a zipper and the sounds of clothes coming off. Then I felt the bed move. My heart started thumping -- well it was nice to know that it still could -- even if an eight mile "sprint" couldn't get it going. I wanted to believe I was going to pull this off, but I was pretty scared.

He climbed on top of me -- gross. I could smell his cheap cologne. He grabbed my tits and squeezed. Part of me wanted to puke, but part of me was turned on -- double gross. He was lying right on top of me. I could feel his boner pressing into my abdomen. He pressed it against my abs. I tried not to tighten in response. It felt huge, though. I was getting wet at the thought -- and was a little ashamed. He had is his hands down on my thighs. When he pressed his head between my tits, I knew it was time to act.

I opened my eyes and looked down. He was so lost in what he was doing, he didn't even notice when I lifted my head up to look at him. I want him to see what's coming. Just enough that it scares him.

"Psst, hey lover," I said in a whisper.

He looked up at me as shock came over his face."

"Let's get a little closer, baby" I told him.

With that, I wrapped my legs around his abdomen -- trapping his arms at his side. I squeezed with everything I could -which, apparently was a lot. He tried to scream, but the sudden pressure against his middle meant he couldn't get much air. Besides, he seemed to like my tits, so he should get the full experience, I thought. I wrapped my arms around his head and slammed his face into my cleavage. Any sound he mustered was muffled by the twins. Jim struggled with everything he could muster, but it was hopeless. I had him wrapped up. His weak body was no match for what mine had become. I'll give the guy credit - he struggled for a full 30 seconds before he went out.

I released him and checked for a pulse. He had one. There was bruising on his face and his lower chest. I think I must have gotten a rib or two. His right arm dangled loose below the elbow. I think I broke or dislocated it.

I had a backup plan if I'd accidentally killed him. Don't get me wrong -- I'm not a killer, but this guy sold drugs to kids and drugged and raped girls. If I was going to find out what I could do, and there was collateral damage, it might as well be this piece of shit. My backup plan was good. I would lure Brad in as I had planned, but instead of doing this to him too, I would do that thing where I grab fists in midair. Then drag his shit over to Jim's body and make him ram his fists into him a few times. I figured Brad would be so freaked out, he'd bolt. I go make a hang-up 911 call and leave it off the hook. Then lie down and pretend to be passed out. I probably still have the roofies in my system, plus there's the box. I'd say I hear them arguing over who went first when I passed out. I'm a victim, Jim's dead, Brad's on the lam for murder.

"Jesus," I said to no one. How did I come up with that? I hadn't even thought about killing Jim, and in the time it takes to poor a cup of coffee I had a solid frame job and bulletproof alibi. Last week I got caught sneaking in late and I told my dad I was out getting ice cream. [I clearly had no ice cream.] And now I'm Keyser Söze or some shit.

Speaking of "usual suspects", it was time to dance with Brad. I looked around the room. I was in the guest room. Fortunately, I knew it used to be Brad's grandfather's room when he was still alive, and his clothes were still in the closet. I when and found some old ties and, well, tied Jim up and gagged him. My plan was to push over the dresser. Brad would come running to see what happened, and we'd go from there.

It never got that far.

DING DONG

"Shit," I said to the room -- the doorbell.

It's okay, I thought. Brad will get rid of whoever it is. I mean, as far as he's concerned, there's drugged girl up here being raped by his accomplice, and he's got to come get his sloppy seconds. I heard a voice then what sounded like a crash.

Then a scream.

A male scream.

The sounds were getting closer.

"Get away from me you fucking freak bitch!" It was Brad. He sounded scared.

"You're the only bitch here, and that's how I'm going to use you." It was a girl -- or a woman. She sounded hella-pissed.

I unlocked the door and looked down the stairs. I saw Brad. He was scared. He was holding his right arm. His shirt was torn and there was blood coming from a cut on his face and his nose. He was struggling up the stairs -- limping. He was close to the top when his attacker appeared at the bottom. "Where's the other one, bitch", she was yelling at Brad. I don't think she saw me. I closed the door and locked it.

Within seconds, Brad came crashing through the door. Brad must have been trying to get to Jim for help. His attacker had closed that distance in a split second and slammed him through the door. Brad lay on the floor crying and moaning in pain. His attacker came through the door.

She wasn't much of a brute. Except for the crazed look in her eyes, she wasn't very formidable. She was maybe 5'5". She was neither skinny nor particularly heavy -- a well-proportioned 120lbs, I guessed. A little curvy -- accentuated by a pair of tight blue jeans and a snug tank top covering moderate sized breasts that were heaving more with excitement than exertion. She'd beaten Brad to a pulp without even breaking a sweat. She had pale skin with a couple of acne scars on her round face. She had long blond hair that looked like it had just fallen out a of ponytail. I bet her bright green eyes were usually pretty, but, for now, they just burned with emerald rage.

I recognized her and spoke.

"Cheryl?"

III.

Cheryl looked at me. Then there was recognition, "Midge?"

She looked at Brad, then saw Jim tied up. He was just coming around and moaning now too. She looked at me and started to talk, "They... they...." Then she broke into tears.

I hugged her, "I know. I know what they did to you. I'm here. Let it out." She just sobbed into my chest. It was pretty obvious why she came here. She realized what had changed in her, and she decided to put that change to use -- for justice or just revenge.

When she got her composure together, she let me go and asked, "They were trying to do the same to you weren't they?"

I nodded.

"But they couldn't because something's changed. It happened overnight, right?" She asked.

"Oh my god," I said, "It's all of us."

Cheryl kicked Jim and he grunted. "I think it's just the girls. The ones who've hit puberty." She explained, going on, "My eight-year-old sister is still, I don't know, 'normal'. No change at all in my 14-year-old brother." I thought of Josh and how helpless he'd been when Millie attacked him. "Mom put my stepdad in the hospital early this morning." I gave a shocked look and Cheryl explained, "Fucker deserved it. At least as much as these fuckers." She kicked Brad this time, he grunted and spit up some blood. She went on, "He's a drunk. Comes home drunk early every Sunday morning. He's a mean drunk." She held up an arm; it had two cigarette-shaped round scars. Then she finished, "He came home drunk this morning again, he took a swing at her that she dodged like it was nothing. Then she beat the shit out of him. He's gonna lose an eye, they said. Might not walk again."

"Good for her, " said. I meant it. I couldn't believe I meant it, but I did. Then there was that ache from my womanhood again. I looked at Cheryl. She read my fucked-up mind like an open book.

"We should teach them what it means to lose all control of your body," she said.

I went over to Jim and started to untie him. He was awake now and scared out of his mind. "It's okay, Jimbo," I said coyly, "You're about to get what you came here for." I grabbed him by the upper arm and threw him on the bed. He was clearly terrified at this point. I looked at Cheryl, "I get this dick, you can have the five-inch muscle man when we're done with this one." I made a thumb gesture at Brad who was starting to crawl for the door.

"I'll bring him along," she said, "So he's not lonely while he waits. She grabbed him in a side headlock. He struggled with his good arm, but it was no use -- she was too strong or, maybe, he was too weak. She dragged him over to the bed. And let him go for a second while she got out of her pants.

I took the opportunity to pick up my panties. I walked over to where Brad was on all fours -- well three. He wasn't putting any weight on that mangled arm. I grabbed him by the chin. "Open," I commanded. He didn't. I slapped him -- hard. He was tearing. "Open," I repeated. This time he did, and I shoved the panties in his stupid mouth.

Cheryl put Brad back in a head lock and got on the bed. She straddled Jim's head and lowered her hairy pussy onto him. He didn't do anything. She gave him a hollow thudding punch to his sternum. "You can lick, or I can grind, but either way, I'm not going anywhere until I'm done with you, bitch." She told him. He started to use his tongue. That just got her grinding anyway. She bounced with Brad's head under her arm the whole time.

I grabbed Jim's cock and jerked it until he was hard. He was really big -at least nine or ten inches. I flared out my skirt and lowered myself onto him. It was all tightness this time as my bald pussy took him. I started to thrust. As I did, I could feel my pussy tightening around him. It felt amazing to me. Jim seemed less happy about it. I could hear his muffled screams as I rode.

I leaned forward and put my lips to Cheryl's. Her lips were so soft. Her tongue dance with mine as she rode Jim's face. She came as we kissed, she was bucking wildly, but still held Brad helpless in her side headlock. And I came right after her. Jim started to spurt just as I came. My pussy clamped down on him as I orgasmed, and his sperm was trapped. The look on his face changed rapidly. First it was confusion. Then there was something like, I don't know, amazement, I guess. Then it settled on fear -- fear that he was never going to escape, fear that the world had turned upside down on him, and fear that the people -- girls -- he had only seen as prey had become predators. It was the most penetrating fear I'd ever seen in someone. I laughed, "Looks like that monster cock is no match for my little pretty kitty, Jimbo." I kept riding; he kept screaming into Cheryl's muff. I came a second time on Jim's cock. He passed out from exhaustion or the pain as I did. Cheryl rode his face for maybe twenty more minutes. I fingered and licked her to at least three more orgasms. Then I sucked the dripping cum out of Jim's bruised and battered dick. I held it in my mouth as I leaned down in front of Brad's trapped face. He was nearly delirious from the whipping action. I looked at Cheryl -- again she read me clearly. Which was good because I didn't want to try to talk with my mouth full.

"Open!" She commanded to Brad giving his neck a squeeze. He had learned and complied immediately. He opened his mouth and I spit Jim's blood-tinged cum all over Brad's face and into his mouth. He gagged. I put my hand over his mouth to keep him from spiting it out and pinched his nose until he swallowed. I let him go and Cheryl flipped him onto the floor.

He started to sit up. I put my foot on him and slammed him back to the floor. I stood over him and giggled. "Oh, you got some of your friends cum all over your stupid face, Bradley," I said. "Here, "I went on positioning myself with my feet on either side of his battered torso, "Let me help you get cleaned off." With that I let loose a stream of urine onto him. I started with his face. He tried to sit up again. I stopped the stream and slammed him down to the floor again hard enough that his head bounced off the floor. "Now, now, let me finish or you might get worse than a spinning head," I told him wagging a finger at him for emphasis. I finished emptying my bladder on his face.

I dropped onto him in a straddle across his pelvis. I leaned forward and pressed my forearm across his chest; he was pinned. I brought my face up to his. He was crying. "Oh no," I said in mock sympathy, "Are you having a bad night, Bradley?" I looked over at Cheryl. She was still grinding out one last orgasm on Jim's unconscious face. I smiled and jabbed Brad in his dislocated shoulder. He screamed in pain. "Oh, poor thing," again the mock sympathy voice, "Did that hurt?" I brushed his hair, "Maybe you should ask Jimbo to get you something for the pain. He has all kinds of pills and things, doesn't he?" The same kind of rapid cycling of expression that hit Jim's face now hit Brad's.

He also landed on fear.

"I'm not going to hurt you Brad," I said as I stood up. I walked to the door as Cheryl came. I paused. Cheryl gathered herself, dismounted Jim's mug, and stood. I looked at her. She wasn't done -- she barely looked like she'd exerted herself at all. She looked at Brad like a leopard with a fresh kill. "I'm just going to leave you here with her," I said, as I walked out the door and closed it.

I left my panties but gathered the rest of my things. I heard another yell from upstairs. Cheryl was still upstairs fucking the life out of Brad and, presumably, waiting for Jim to recover. They were in for a long night. Good -- they deserve it.

Jesus, I thought, what is going on with me. I mean, sure Jim and Brad deserved some comeuppance, but I fucking ripped their emotional guts out. Jim was terrified, and I laughed at him. I humiliated Brad and tortured him. He was crying.

And I liked it.

No -- I loved it.

There was more to this change than strength and speed. My mind was changing.

I needed to get out of there and figure this out.

I reached for the knob of the front door. As I did, the doorbell rang. I opened the door. There were three very serious looking girls standing there. Two I knew from school -- a junior and a, God-damnit, Brad, a freshman. The one I didn't recognize spoke. "Are Brad and Jim here?"

Perhaps a longer night than I thought.