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Chapter 5 by Gambio Gambio

Starting wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiith…

The generic bully

While girls most certainly can be bullies too, their bullying normally tends to take on a more...subtle approach.

Less wedgies and swirlies and more social isolation coupled with psychological terror.

Liz Sinclair, however, was the picture case of a bully.

Of large stature, she towered over even most of her male classmates. Her hair was dyed a bright yellow and fashioned in a perm, like she just leaped out of an 80’s movie.

Her old, torn clothes only highlighted her intimidating appearance and if it weren’t for her decently sized bust, she probably could easily pass for a guy.

Right now, Ashley was given a full facial of said breasts, as Liz had kabedonned him against a locker.

“G’day there, shortstuff”, she smirked down at him.

“H-hey there, L-Liz.” Ashley responded meekly.

“Oi, I’m yer elder.” Liz narrowed her eyes. “Address me with some bloody respect, ya shrimp.”

“Y-Yes! I’m, sorry Ma’am.”

“I was rootin' around!” The bully guffawed. “Mate, ya geting girlier every day. How long til ya start wearing knickers?”

“I...I...am sorry…”

“Oi. Whatcha sayin' sorry for?” Liz groaned. “Say, hate to hit ya out of the blue like that, but ya reckon ya can lend me some quick moolah?”

“Y-yes, of course, Liz,” he stammered out as he clumsily removed a few dollar notes from his pockets. “Will that be enough?”

“Damn, that’s a Franklin! That’s, fair dinkum with ya? Sweet as! Cheers, Shortstuff.” Liz laughed as she pocketed the money. “Petrol money's sorted. Reckon ya can chuck in a ride as payment, aye? Me and the gang are having a barbie at the beach. Earned yerself a cold one, at least, Shortstuff.”

Ashley sputtered, his brain desperately trying to come up with a good excuse to decline the invitation.

Liz looked down at him with a bit of an amused look on her face. ”Bloody oath, mate, don't chuck a U-ey on us, eh? Gotta live it up a bit!”

As still no satisfactory reply was forthcoming, Liz’s face changed to a scowl. “Right, that's it, Shortstuff. Yer comin', whether yer keen or not.”

Then she grabbed the shocked boy, lifted him up and tossed him over her shoulder. “Strewth, mate? You're lookin' thinner than a whippet. Ya been eatin' properly, aye?"

“L-let me down!”

“Eh, guess, yer lively enough! Let’s fatten ya up with some meat!”

In response to his feeble struggles, Liz smacked his butt, laughed cruelly and carried her prize off to another long night.

..

.

“Oof!”

A black, dangerous looking vortex formed on the screen that had just depicted Ashley’s manhandling and something was spat out of said vortex with considerable ****.

Liz Sinclair landed on the stage face first. She looked...rather roughed up.

“YA FOOKING BITCH!”

That didn't faze her. She bounced right back up, keen to get back into the blue, only to stand there gobsmacked for a few ticks.

That was hardly a surprise. One minute she's rootin' with some bonza sheila, pink hair and all, then next thing ya know, she's standin' on this grouse stage lookin' like it's straight outta the bloody zoo.

Shortstuff was there as well. Sitting on a right posh throne. With that look on his face like a startled kangaroo, Liz figured he wasn't there by choice either.

There was another bloke there besides 'im. Right smarmy little tacker wearin'... what the bloody hell?

..

.

“Our first contestant is professional bully Liz Sinclair”, Ora announced to loud recorded applause. “Despite her brutish behavior, she is quite the looker. If you are into that sort of stuff.”

You certainly could say that again. Liz wasn’t someone who cared for her appearance but had that typical tomboy charm to her that made her very appealing to a certain demographic. A blonde perm, above average but below massive boobs and a trained but not overtly muscular body.

Yes, Ora is aware that she already described Liz, but we have to pad the runtime somehow.

Anyways, after the initial confusion had worn off, the stereotypical bully reacted exactly as you might expect the stereotypical bully to react.

"Oi, who ya callin' a bully, ya drongo? Ya wanna go a round, too, ya little sheila?"

“Liz, d-don’t...”

By that time, Ashley finally managed to stammer some words out. While he was certainly forcefully informed what was about to transpire, the reality of it obviously hadn’t settled in quite yet.

Annoying yes, but we are getting there.

The pathetic stuttering did however have the effect of drawing Liz’s attention away from Ora and towards her master.

And so, with all the fury of a raging rhino, Liz stomped towards Ashley.

"Oi, Shortstuff. Ya better have some ripper explanations for me. What the bloody hell's goin' on 'ere?"

“W-wait! D-don’t come any closer!”

And Liz stopped.

Instinct.

Instinct, cultivated over millions of years of human history. Instinct that was at its most pronounced in a natural predator like Liz.

Liz knew.

If she were to touch Shortstuff now, she would be in deep shite.

Obeyed the master!

+0.5 VP

FIRST!

+0.5 VP

“Oh myyyyy,” Ora smirked up towards Liz. “Looks like she isn’t COMPLETELY braindead. Well, it would have been rather tragic to eliminate someone before the game even started. And making the bully the elimination bait? How boring! How plebeian! No, No, No! My show will subvert all the expectations! It will instill the audience with a sense of pride and accomplishment! Remember to like, comment and jerk off to it!”

In fact, do it right now! Every climax helps the ratings.

“Fooks going on?”, Liz asked again, this time slightly more subdued.

“Yes, Yes. We will get to that in due time, for now...” Ora pointed towards a mat on the ground. One of eight, in fact, that were situated in a circular fashion in front of the throne.

“Genuflect.”

"Oi, wossat? How about I'll give ya a knuckle sandwich, ya flaming galah!"

Ora sighed theatrically. It seems the bully’s self preservation instincts were only going so far. “Master, would you like to order your lowly servant to show proper deference?”

But unfortunately, Ashley was white as a sheet. It didn’t look like he managed to even squeeze another word out. How pitiful. Well, not that it mattered. Liz decided for him and rushed Ora, ready to dish out some punishment.

But before she made it to striking distance, a thorn from Ora’s black crown suddenly shot out and pricked Liz in the neck.

“OUCH! FOOKING BITCH!

It was only a tiny thorn. Little more then a mosquito bite. Of course it wouldn’t stop someone like Liz, who's probably on a first name basis with mosquitos.

And yet stopping was exactly what she did.

Liz stopped in her tracks, raised her arms...

And gave herself a wedgie.

“Ouuuuch!!!!”

“Myyyyy!” Ora leered. “What’s the matter? Don’t you bullies just love wedgies?”

“Ya fooking cunt! I’m gonna...! Gwuaaargh!”

Liz pulled her black underpants even higher. It seems she was wearing shorts at least, but nonetheless this had to be fairly painful.

“Why are you wedgie yourself? Why are you wedgie yourself?” Ora, meanwhile, cackled gleefully.

Oh, she just loves when a contestant lose control of their bodies! She could play around with the fool for hours!

But she has a show to run and so, still forcing Liz to wedgie herself, she made the bully waddle to one of the mads, kneeling her forehead down to the ground and her wedgied butt raised high in the air. No matter how hard Liz may try, her body was utterly incapable of moving even an inch.

While Liz can enjoy her time out, we move on to our next contestant.

What's next?

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