My Girl Goes To Talk To My Bully

Cindy could tell something was wrong but said nothing, until asking how my day went I cried and blabbed the truth. She got a frown on, got mad. And before I knew it she hugged me and kissed me better and said I'd never have to worry about it any more, she'd fix it.

The next day, I woke up and she wasn't there. I went out to get food and texted her, she said she'd gone to talk to Tyrone. I shot up.

No. Fucking. Way.

I shook my head and panicked, pacing before building courage to go to his place. I ran down pavements and finally got to the apartment, before quietly slipping around the side to look for some place I could see my girl inside to motion her out and rip her out of there before he got violent with her. She wasn't answering my texts or calls.

That was my plan anyway. I couldn't see her, so I got as brave as I ever been for her and jumped up another pipe and roof to creep on it and squat by the low wall.

And in the window I saw them.

They were in his bedroom, full of games consoles, stacks of money, and just all this material shit just so much, he must have been secretly loaded.

There she was.

They were sat on the bed and my girl seemed... fine. I had been texting her furiously and she kept talking about how everything was fine and she was gonna fix it, but the most I got was somehow 'annoying' her, until she said:

Look, I promise no man will hurt me, men don't do that to girls. I know you're scared so how bout this, I'll call you, pick up the call and listen okay? Then you can trust me and I can prove to you that I'm gonna fix it sweetie okayy? xoxoxoxoxo

I groaned but texted fine and again to make sure if she was even uncomfortable to make an excuse and get out of there.

So there I was, listening on low speaker, lying comfortably on a roof staring at my girl with my bully.

And he... was just talking?

"So let me guess... I beat up your boyfriend, is that it?"

She crossed her arms under her tits and slapped a hand to her bare thigh. "Seriously?! You don't know? You don't know me at all or my boyfriend? You do this so often-"

"Believe it or not, I pretty much exclusively get calls from girlfriends who are mad I beat up their boy." He chuckled. "But damn if I ain't seen one like you yet babygirl..."

She made to slap him then breathed down. She shook her head. "Do. Not. Call me that. I am not kidding around right now. You hurt my boyfriend I may as well fucking report you to the police. As well as all this definitely stolen shit with tags still on that's definitely not cool."

"Look." He sighed. "I won't lie. I may have issues, alright..." He ran a hand by his neck, showing off his muscles.

Are you fucking kidding?

"But your boy has got a whole lot more than any I had. You know what he called me?"

"What? Oh come on you are NOT about to tell me that this is justified-"

"He called me a nigger."

The silence shook me. I winced.

"He... what?"

"Your boy. Called me. A nigger. You know like some asshole racist. So I whooped his ass because I ain't no man's bitch and nobody else's property or bitch-ass or none o' that. You understand me?"

She was silent. Her breast heaved and her arms stayed crossed, but other than jiggling she said nothing and moved none.

She breathed a long sigh. "Well." She said. A long silence. She spoke again. "That's still no reason to beat the shit out of him."

"I never said I beat the shit out of him, I said I beat him up. I whooped his ass, they all different."

"Oh yeah?" She asked, this angry joking tone.

"Yeah." He replied serious. "See, beat someone up that's hitting them a few times, whooping they ass is more violent, maybe some hitting against something, smack a head 'gainst a wall or something."

"Jesus... Christ..." She replied. Which... was weird.

She's discussing the fucking means by which he fucking beat me now? Just say to stop and get out of there.

She let him go on. He nodded. "Yeah. That's right. It's rough out here baby, he was a fuckin asshole, so I whooped his ass and beat that shit against the brick a couple times. He's got a tough body even though he ain't earn it, skinny boy too." He tsked. "But once he said that word, I couldn't help it and I beat the shit out of him. Which involved a lot of punches lot of spanks and some face smacks. Couple of bonks 'gainst the pole, that sort of thing."

"B- bonk against a pole?"

Why is she talking about this and focusing on that?

I glared and saw her thighs move anxiously. I'd never taken her for so sheltered that she didn't know about ass whooping or that people beat each other up so bad, so I didn't know why she was moving like a little girl caught by a Principal or educated by a Dad or something. It infuriated me how she just let him go on and was embarrassing me with the fucking spanks story.

"Yeah he even pissed hisself too. You didn't know? I've seen a lot of men piss theyselves when I whoop 'em. That's pretty common though it ain't nothin to be embarrassed about. I mean, if you a girl of a man who did that, it ain't reflect on you trying to say he strong. It does kinda cringe or some shit thinking about it though. Poor guy. Well, that's what you get when you a racist asshole though. Maybe he shoulda learned that lesson a little earlier on, he wouldn'ta got his ass beat so bad and be such a pussy-ass bitch so late in life when he meant to be a man, huh? Or you wanna stick up for that."

Cindy was silent. "If he is a racist I apologise, but racism doesn't allow you to be violent, especially to the extent you were."

"Yah?" Tyrone stood and walked, then turned to her. "So if a man called you sugartits or something you fine with that?"

Her thighs moved again and she looked down. She was blushing.

Fucking say something!

"I mean... no it can be fucked up but no never ever hit someone."

"Not durin' sex?" He cocked his head. "So you never been spanked or nothin' nah?"

"That's- different." She said. She gripped the skirt. "I just... think it's fucked up that's all."

"Yeah well. The day he walks by and ain't piss me off is the day I stop." He shrugged. "Nothin' I can do about his work bein' past me or him givin' me looks or whatever the fuck. Til he changes it I gon' stand up for myself."

She stayed silent, and eventually spoke gently. "I'm sorry... I still don't agree, but I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "That's not enough. That means nothing to me. I only get apologies one way. Oh you apologised after being an asshole well you were still an asshole. The only way to help someone's pain or pay for an asshole is to give back somethin' better to make up for it."

She thought for a moment. "Well it doesn't look like you need money." She said in some... bad attempt at calling him out or making him feel bad.

"Nah. I ain't. There's only one thing teaches boys not to be racist. If ass whoopin's ain't do it, the humiliation of pissin' hisself might not have... what you think will?"

"Something bad enough to make him stop."

"That's right. But that ain't it neither."

He put a hand to her hair and smoothed it back, before running it up her neck and tracing across her shoulders. "I get angry babe. I get a rage in me. Too much testosterone or some shit. And if I ain't get some way out? I get mad."

She crossed her arms tighter and pouted. And then stared for a while. "You get angry and need some way to stop it."

"That's right."

"You need... an outlet."

"An outlet." He nodded. "Yeah."

She was silent for a long time. "How much. How badly. How bad is it."

"If I ain't beat up a boyfriend, and I mean a boyfriend 'cause I know it hurts, then I need to take it out on his girl. That's why I go after them. 'Hey whiteboy, I see you with that girl thinkin' you shit, well 'fuck you bitch' like that."

"That's... dumb." She laughed.

He shrugged. "Well yeah. I ain't choose it. Look. I can promise you this. If I'm fuckin a whiteboy's girl, I ain't need to fuck him up."

She thought for a while. "But you beat him up a lot."

He shrugged. "You can still go back to him though. And he ain't never be hurt again."

Cindy stood angrily, then shut her mouth. Then sat.

She crossed her leg over the other. She stared at his hand, now down to her bare whiter thigh and moving up it, and she breathed a deep sigh.