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Chapter 3 — The gym, the cat and the locker part 1
Pressed against the stall wall a flustered Bess McCarthy struggled against the firm hand clasped around her mouth. Rhythmic blows of flesh on flesh sounded in echoes against the walls of the mostly empty bathroom, matched with muffled moans of delight and pain.
“What did I say about wearing a hoodie?” The harsh voice accompanied its demand by grabbing Bess beneath her chin as its other hand lightly smacked up and down against Bess’s breasts.
“I thought you were joking!” Bess managed through a smushed face.
“Oh? So I just say things I don’t mean all the time?” A raised hand shot into position to strike as its victim cringed in anticipation, closing her eyes and burrowing back into the stall.
“Aw Bess. How could I be mad at you? You’re so gosh darn cute when you’re nervous.” Radiant as the morning sun, Ashley’s grin was mischievous and lust-filled, as invitingly warm as it was deviously hungry, the voluptuous body of her new toy doing that to her seemingly on sight. The light make-up accentuated Ashley’s powerful yet graceful features, elegantly outlined by flowing honey blonde hair softer than silk that brushed lightly against the top of Bess’s exposed breasts. Ashley leaned forward and pressed her lips against Bess’s, exaggerating playfully a “Mwah” as she pulled back.
“So you’re not mad?”
“No, of course not. I just meant what I said. Seriously Bess, you have an amazing body and I want to see it more. So do most of the boys at Helmsworth, probably the girls too for that matter.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Bess relaxed though still pinned to the bathroom wall. “I didn’t hurt you too much did I?”
Bess shook her head, “No. Though now I’m going to be thinking of you all throughout biology.”
“Wouldn’t you have been doing that anyway?” Retorted Ashley with a grin. Bess couldn’t think of anything clever to say, instead speaking with her actions as she leaned forward into a kiss, slipping her tongue into Ashley’s mouth, surprising both of them.
“You little… Oh you’re fun. If lunch wasn’t about to start, lets just say you’d have a hard time sitting down for biology.”
Ashley lifted her oaken skirt, revealing a sheer pair of lacy ebony panties, a finger disappeared between her legs, “Look at what you do to me. Aren’t you cruel? Always thinking about yourself, what about my needs? When are we going to be alone again? When am I going to see that pretty little face between my legs again?” Ashley’s voice switched from a faux pleading whimper to an evil hiss at her last question, placing her now already wet finger into Bess’s mouth. The sensation sent shivers rocketing throughout Bess as she obediently sucked the exploring finger.
The bell rang out, crashing through the clandestine meeting with a shattering screech. The two of them frowned at each other, kissing once more before Ashley gave Bess back a thick pink bra and left the stall to fix herself in the bathroom mirror.
“You free Saturday?”
“I am now.”
“Sweet. We can continue our… conversation then.”
“Roll on the weekend.” Agreed Bess, moving into the mirror and narrowly managing to wash away a smear of Ashley’s glossy fuscia pink lipstick before another group of girls entered.
“See ya later Bessy!” Yelled Ashley, as the freshly entering group began tittering and giggling at the joke.
Yeah yeah, laugh it up. You ought to hear the things she calls me when we’re alone.
Caitlin held the book just out of reach of the short dark-haired pale figure before them, laughing every time as another pathetically short jump caused her victim to swing and miss retrieving her belongings. The cat ears only made it funnier and the meows the girl made would surely be stuck into Caitlin’s brain forever. “What’s the matter little kitty? Don’t you want your book? Higher Caitlin, she nearly got it that time!” Terri giggled as she directed her friend, “Haha, she must actually think she’s a cat! Hahaha!” Caitlin laughed back.
Around the corner a figure appeared, lithe, imposing and elegant, honey blonde hair tumbling like a golden river to just above her perky breasts and an expression of sneering contempt towards the world. Ashley strode over to the girls, watching as the helpless Kiera Longford bounced every other moment and swung at the book Caitlin was dangling above her.
Kiera wore a battered and ragged looking light blue hoodie with a black band shirt depicting a group of smiling Korean boys on it, each looking more effeminate than the last. Her dark black jeans were ripped and seemed at least a size too big for her and alongside her old cherry-red converse completed the chic geek look.
Kiera herself was of an average height and an average build, a curious occurrence as she never seemed to participate in any sport unless reading weird Japanese comic books at the back of the class counted. Her hazel eyes were usually shaded by her jet black hair that rested over one side of her face and was usually london escorts messy and unkempt but held together with a cat ear headband which she was almost never seen without.
She was on that list that Bess mentioned… Ashley’s eyes grew hungry as she watched the catgirl spring up for attempt after attempt, seemingly enjoying the game and attempting to pretend that the girls weren’t being mean to her, only being cheeky and playful. The face of a dark-haired Korean boy that rested on one of Kiera’s breasts seemed to smile and jiggle with every jump, a hypnotising sight that Ashley had trouble breaking free from as she approached.
Reaching over Caitlin, Ashley took the book and made her way to the corner of the hallway, “Here kitty! We’re gonna play fetch!” Ashley’s wrist jangled with jewellery and bangles as she shook the book like a pet toy before skimming it all the way down the hallway floor in a single move that would have impressed an Olympic curler.
She turned back to her friends as the blur that was Kiera Longford skittered off down the hall after her book. “What? You guys are adopting retarded kittens now?” Ashley asked with a contemptible snarl.
“We was only having fun, she seemed to like it anyway.” Caitlin begrudgingly admitted.
“Were. You were, only having fun with her, not was.”
“I swear she’s been following us recently, every time we go anywhere she’s there, the only place that bitch won’t go is near a vet.” Terri burst into laughter at her own joke and Caitlin joined in with her. Even Ashley had to admit it was funny.
Their laughter was interrupted as Katy Perez passed them by and evil looks sharp as daggers shot across the hallway. Katy was a punk girl, evidenced by enough piercings to reliably piss off airport security and a shaved side of her head. A shame, that violet and ebony hair combo works so well for her. Sad that she’s nuttier than a 10lb fruitcake.
Her slightly bronzed skin and Latin features made her a stand out beauty in the school, even with the ear gauges and over reliance on dark gothic makeup. There was a slight jingle as she stomped her way through the school, owing either to the nose piercings, lip piercings or the numerous chains which seemed to dangle from an ever-present sleeveless leather vest that Katy took pride in showing, had “Bulletproof bitch” stitched across the back.
It seemed Katy’s name was never not being called to the principal’s office, a talent achieved by a rotten punk attitude and her constant attempts to skip school and start trouble wherever she went. “What’re you witches cackling at? One of your spells to grow a brain finally worked?” Called out Katy as she passed. Terri and Caitlin were momentarily shaken, uncertain of how to handle a girl who might well punch them in the face if they spoke out.
“Oh, my, god, someone call Marilyn Manson and tell him his dog is loose again!” Ashley fired back, now joined by choruses of, “Dyke!” “Loser!” from Terri and Caitlin.
“Shut up bimbo! You better not use all your thoughts for the day or you won’t know which lube to let Mike use on you later! Head girl pussy bro!” Bimbo?! Yeah I’m tall, blonde and sexy… wait, did she just call me sexy? She’s not on the list but…
“Oooh, someone jealous? Or just confused about every aspect of life from their gender to their fashion sense?” Katy formed a “V” with her fingers and flicked her tongue up and down them before flipping the girls off and continued down the hallway.
Why does she have to be such a bitch with an ass like that? Those leather pants look like they’re about to explode… I’ll make her mine somehow. Turning to Terri and Caitlin she could visibly see the uncertainty and fear on their faces, both had glowing childlike eyes which seemed to beg for direction and protection from her. “Fuck her.”
“Her face is like, 90% black eyeliner anyway.” The last comment from Caitlin earned a raised eyebrow from Ashley, wondering if Caitlin herself understood that eyeliner was used only around the eye.
A buzz in her bra caught her attention instead, a message from Bess, containing a video no less. In the week since Ashley and her had first hooked up, Bess had sent a picture every day, often topless with her face neatly out of shot, with captions like, ‘Wouldn’t my boobs look prettier with handprints on them?’ ‘I can’t go near the changing room without blushing now!’
I’ve awakened something wicked in her for sure… The video was short but sweet, creatively captioned with, ‘I know I’m sorry, you know I liked it.’ Bess lightly traced the surface of her breasts, gasping in sharp breaths as though she felt a chill every time she pass over a reddish patch. Bess pinched her nipple between a thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth with occasional slight tugs as the video zoomed in on her lips sensually mouthing the words, “I’m sorry.” Before signing off with a kiss to the camera.
“Whatever, lets get out of here, we’ve got practice in like 20 minutes anyway.” Concluded Ashley with london escort a wry smile, grabbing her things and heading towards the football field.
Yasmina brought the barbell into contact with her shins, the reflection in the mirror was of a stern and intimidating warrior goddess, the calm before the storm. A crowd previously unseen surrounded her, cheering her name, “Provetkin! Provetkin!” The Olympics was everything she had hoped for, the light, the heat, the tension able to be cut with a knife and held in the hand, the weight of metal battling her and losing.
With a great heave and effort, Yasmina Provetkin cleaned and jerked 105kg above her head, straining and sweating under the load and the heavy gym lights, she looked like every trophy she had ever won. Her taut muscles strained and screamed, stinging with a pain of combat, a maximal effort the kind that only the trained can ever manage and it was enough to secure her personal record.
Finally she let the weight drop, smashing into the ground with a mighty thud that reverberated around the gym, like a round of applause from the gods themselves. Then she saw her.
Standing in the mirror, the 6ft 4inch platinum blonde from Latvia was a goddess. Her thighs strained against the slim white nylon shorts, easily capable of out lifting many of the boys at Helmsworth, probably by multiple factors. Her abs were like speed bumps, a true washboard stomach that currently gleamed with sweat and made her already womanly figure more sensual with every inch that dropped from it. Even her upper body was power made flesh and it was moments like this that Yasmina lived for, the chase, the competition, the catch.
Standing in the victory and adrenaline, she struggled to catch her breath, yet finally managed and began to rest for her next set. Shortly the goddess began to ponder, the plain face of a Latvian peasant watched her, working her usual evils inside her mind. If I am Hera, where is my Aphrodite? There must be other girls like me out there… No, stop it. You meant where is your Zeus! I like men, I am normal!
The gym was empty save for her and a scrawny black haired boy with thick glasses, who idly walked away on a treadmill whilst playing on his phone. The boy had picked one that put him in the direct sight of Yasmina and periodically would try to steal a glance at her, get caught and nervously speed walk faster than the machine would let him. Zeus? I think not. He’d look prettier in a dress than I do. Why are boys either pig headed, testosterone fuelled primates or spindly bands of string that call themselves men? Why aren’t there every any girls in here?
Yasmina checked her watch and let out a sigh, it was never the training or the diet that slowed her in the gym, yet the crushing loneliness that an athlete had to endure. Lushkev, her father had told her from 14 that she should only marry someone strong, stronger than her, a man weaker than a girl would bring ruin to her life and every man defeated would only make her stronger. How many men did she have to beat before she found one she liked?
The doors shattered open, ripping Yasmina from her daydream.
Ashley hadn’t been to the Helmsworth gym in a long time, She and Courtney had yoga twice a week after cheer practice, which Ashley wasn’t ashamed to admit, often turned into another kind of workout entirely. Alongside her tennis practice, netball and cheerleading, if Ashley had exercised anymore she’d have had to cut her sleep down to minutes, making it that the exquisitely furnished Helmsworth gym was more a wild rumour than any place she knew of concretely.
Scanning the weight room she spotted Yasmina, practicing hard and with a perfect line of sight for one treadmill in particular. Yasmina was ripped as always and had a plain but beautiful face that small dabs of make-up would shape into something a set of James bond spy girls would be fighting each other to have. Currently this particular face held an expression of deep nervousness, seemingly growing redder with every step Ashley took in her general direction. Aw cute, the big brute is scared to see me!
Ashley made her way to the treadmill a dorky looking boy was half-heartedly tramping along on, resting her arms on one of the sides and placing her boobs on top of her arms with a slight lean forward, a trick her mom had told her about to get served at bars quicker known as, ‘the boob window.’
“Heyyyyy, um, excuse me but this is kind of my favourite treadmill and I use it like, every day. Do you think I could have it?” Ashley sounded so sickly sweet that she herself wanted to throw up. Nonetheless, she maintained her composure, batting her eyelids and smiling directly into the boy’s sweaty face.
“Uh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here before.”
“Psha, I know right? I usually come here every day but I’ve had the flu and I really want to get back into it.”
“Can’t you use one of the other ones? There’s like 3 over there!”
Alright fuck this. Ashley looked over at the control london escort agency panel of the machine, “Oh you’ve been on here for 20 minutes! Sorry, gym rules state 20 minutes per machine!” She began lowering his speed until the machine was at a crawl and made sure to give shoo him away as he climbed of the machine, “Aw, sorry but gosh, I’m not usually a stickler for the rules, but the gym is like, a totally sacred place for me.” You little dweeb, when I tell you to move fucking move!
The boy began to protest, “Well if that’s the case, I’ll be back in 20 minutes!” He declared and triumphantly reached for his phone, realising only now that it was resting tenderly nestled in a holder on the treadmill. “Can I have my phone please?” He squeaked, as Ashley was busy putting her air pods in. Though clearly she had heard him, Ashley ignored him. “Hey! Can, I, have, my, phone, plllease!” Moaned the boy, making sure to elongate and emphasise his frustration. Ashley scooped up his phone and without looking tossed it in his general direction, flying beautifully past the boy’s left side and landing with a crack on the rubber mat floor.
“Oops, sorry! It just slipped! See you in 20 minutes!” If you come near me in 20 minutes I’ll claw your eyes out you little cocksucker.
The sounds of “Womanizer” by Britney spears filled her ears as Ashley began to strut on the treadmill in the tightest pair of booty shorts she owned. The pace allowed her enough freedom to swing her hips in rhythm with the music, exaggerating her femininity in a private show all for Yasmina, which tales from glances in the mirror told Ashley that Yasmina was having a hard time ignoring her.
A sweat was barely breaking out when Ashley slowed the treadmill down to a standstill, dropping off to the side and beginning to do toe touches with long, drawn out stretches like a cat first thing in the morning. The tight fabric of her sports bra and shorts was almost painful, but worth it for the sheer slobbering gaze that Yasmina had adopted.
She is so beautiful! I bet her lips taste like strawberries… I wonder what her other lips taste like. No, bad Yasmina! I am straight, like an arrow! I like boys, I- Yasmina lost the vicious battle with her thoughts as Ashley transitioned into a cobra pose, her glutes straining with a stretch and her toned thighs glistening with sweat. It was important that Ashley wasn’t caught checking out Yasmina, although the battle to wrench her eyes away from her smoking body was a maddening one, Ashley was the one in control here and any admittance of interest would have to be done delicately, ensuring that Yasmina wanted Ashley more than Ashley wanted Yasmina.
Ashley switched poses again, transitioning into a downward facing dog and finally gave Yasmina a seductive look that made quickly made her turn away and turn a Latvian beetroot red. Caught you looking. Something tells me we’re going to have a private yoga session after this.
Lost in her pleased daydream with her work, Ashley hadn’t noticed the spindly black haired boy from earlier return. She ignored him the first two times he tried to speak with her, a great look of annoyance on her face. “What? Can’t you see I’m busy?!” She snarled at him, venom pouring from every syllable.
“I just checked and I’ll have you know, there’s no rule about how long you can be on the machines!” He sputtered back, his pimply greasy face contorting in an attempt to match Ashley’s meanness.
Ashley rose up to her full height, beating out the boy by at least 3 inches and hopped back onto the treadmill, “Great, so I can use this as long as I want!” She let out a high laugh which was cut short in its prime upon her realisation that Yasmina had disappeared from behind her without a trace. Fuck, nothing less sexy than an argument, come back Girlzilla, I wouldn’t be this cruel to you, probably.
“No, it means I should still be using it!”
“Well you’re not are you?”
“Well I should be!”
“You should! Get the fuck away from me!”
The boy was persistent and angrily folded his arms with a pout and a proud air, “No! I am Marcus Julian Benton and I am not going to let you walk all over me!”
With a quote which sounded like something his mother told him to say, Marcus Julian Benton very unwisely reached over onto the treadmill control panel and pressed the emergency stop button.
If Ashley had been going any faster than a sexy stroll, she may have been injured, instead the machine jerked with a kick and flung her forward, landing boob and face first into the control panel. Her fists clenched. Underneath the mess of golden blonde hair a fury welled that could match a volcano.
With a swinging right hook she connected with Marcus’s eye, the thick rimmed glasses shattered in a sparkle of cheap glass and expensive repairs as Marcus was felled with a single blow. A strong wind could probably have knocked Marcus over, but a strong wind couldn’t also stand over Marcus, stomping away at his ribs, head and testicles whenever he moved his arms to protect one of the other areas. “You nerdy little insignificant inferior piece of garbage! You Urkel wannabe! Creepy little bastard! What are you trying to make me break my neck?! I should tear your balls off! So creeps like you can’t infect the rest of the gene pool!”
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