Beaten by Emo girls

[Ophaki]

Chapter 1

My name is Donovan, and I am the security guard at a small town festival. Usually, I work as a bouncer in more prestigious places, like nightclubs or discos, but when I was offered this job, I thought, "Hey! Easy money!" Checking on a few families visiting is certainly not the same as dealing with packs of drunk, rowdy young people.

As expected, in the first two days, nothing out of the ordinary happened. There were just four elderly people arguing after a card game and a father complaining about a boy who had tripped his daughter. Compared to the nightclub, this is a peaceful stroll in the park.

Today is Sunday; it's the last night of the festival, and fortunately, there aren't many people around. I'm even a bit bored by the excessive calmness, but in the end, it's better this way. I'm making yet another round to ensure everything is going smoothly when I hear giggles coming from behind some stands, where supplies for the festival are piled up and where, in theory, access is not allowed. I navigate around pallets filled with beer kegs and boxes and see three girls laughing and chatting loudly, while sipping from some alcohol bottles.

"You can't be here. You need to leave!" I declare, in a firm voice.

The three girls immediately stop drinking and turn to me. I recognize them. They live in my neighborhood and often frequent the disco where I usually work. They've never caused any trouble, except for that one time when they were arguing with some boys their age, but as soon as I approached, they calmed down and went back to dancing. It's easy to remember them because they embrace the Emo style, with dyed hair in unlikely colors and always dressed in dark, gloomy clothing.

"Relax, cop! We just want to chill for a bit. We're not bothering anyone," one of the three exclaims, with a tone that's a bit too cheeky for my liking. She's not a short girl, maybe around 5'7" or so. She has pale skin, with black eyeshadow around her eyes; her hair is curly and blonde but with the tips dyed scarlet. A dozen earrings cover much of her ears, and a myriad of metal bracelets jingle on her wrist. She's wearing a black tank top that leaves her shoulders bare, and it has the words 'NO RULES' printed on it, with some gothic symbols on the back that I don't understand. Below, she has knee-high fishnet stockings peeking out from under a black miniskirt, and on her feet are leather combat boots with studs and buckles. I don't really like her style, but everyone is free to dress how they wish.

"You're Professor Thompson's daughter, right?" I say, recalling my old math teacher. "What would your mother say if she saw you here at this hour, half-drunk? And for your information, I'm not a cop but the security guard, and you need to go somewhere else to chill!" I display my uniform and badge that attests to my authority.

She takes a sip from the bottle she's holding and looks at me intently. "My mother should mind her own business. Who are you anyway? I'm sure I've seen you somewhere before."

"He is that bouncer who's always at the disco. Remember him, Clara?" says one of the other girls.

"Of course! I knew I recognized his face. Come on, old man! Pretend you didn't see us!"

That adjective feels like a taser to the heart. I may not be young anymore, but I keep in good shape for being 29. I'm six foot tall, have a reasonably muscular build, and go to the gym three times a week. "If we're talking about age, I don't think you girls are old enough to buy alcohol. How old are you?"

"21!"

"22... um... 21..."

"Yes! 21!"

All three respond quite awkwardly. The lie is as obvious as an elephant hiding behind a lamppost. "I'm sorry, girls, but a bouncer can easily guess the ages of young girls like you, and I believe you're not older than 17."

I approach confidently and decisively take the bottle from Clara's hands.

"HEY!" she exclaims, annoyed. "Give it back! My mom bought it for me!"

"Ha ha! Who? The professor? Don't make me laugh. I still remember how uptight she was." I pull out my iPhone to emphasize my order. "Get out of here right now, or I'll be forced to call the cops."

As cheeky and rude as young people can be today, the threat of reporting them is always a good deterrent, and it rarely leads me to use force. I wait impassively for Clara to lower her stubborn gaze and for her and her friends to walk away, but she has something else in mind. She grabs my smartphone forcefully and takes it from my hand.

"What the hell...?" I exclaim, completely taken aback. "Give it back immediately!"

Clara turns and pulls her arm away. "Then you give me back the bottle!"

I reach for my iPhone again, but she throws it back toward one of her friends. I follow the smartphone, but the three girls start tossing it among themselves quickly, humiliating and mocking me with giggles. I'm about to get really angry when one of their throws comes up short, giving me the chance to snatch the phone. Clara and I grab the iPhone at the same time and begin to tug on it for possession. Her grip is stronger than I anticipated, and while I try to pull it away from her more forcefully, the bottle of liquor slips from my hand and shatters on the ground.

"You jerk! After all I had to do to get it!" she screams, furious and before I can respond, she delivers a knee strike to my groin, knocking the wind out of me.

I double over in pain while she regains possession of my smartphone and hands it to one of her friends.

"Here, Beth! Don't give it back until he apologizes and pays us for the bottle he broke."

Beth is a shorter and stockier girl than Clara, with straight hair that falls past her shoulders, black but slightly tinged with light pink. Her makeup is heavy and vulgar, badly paired with broken heart-shaped earrings and a necklace that says 'LOVE.' She's wearing an oversized black t-shirt with a band graphic I don't recognize, but it's full of skulls and hearts in its logo. She wears skinny black pants with rips at the knees and black platform shoes.

I'm still hunched over, clutching my groin with my hands. This little bully wants an apology from me, but she may not realize who she's dealing with. I glance up slightly as she confidently approaches me.

"Did you hear that?" she emphasizes. "You owe us an apology!"

"Fuck off, girl!" I reply, not mincing my words.

She tries to strike me again with a knee, but I block her leg with my hand and push it aside, throwing her off balance. As she steadies herself, I grab her by the wrist and move behind her. Then I seize her other wrist and cross her arms in front of her body, trapping her like in a straitjacket.

"You don't want to challenge me. I work as a bouncer for a living, and I know dozens of self-defense moves." I am in a position of complete dominance. I feel her arms trying to break free, but she has no leverage to give her any chance. "Now it's you who should apologize for being so rude!"

"Fuck off you!" she replies promptly, while continuing her futile attempts to escape.

"Leave her alone!" shout her two friends, launching themselves at me, grabbing and pulling me. It's not easy to defend myself against all three at once, and while I'm distracted, Clara hits me in the shin with the heel of her boot.

"OUCH!" I complain, losing my grip on her wrists, and in the meantime, Beth shoves me to the side, making me fall to the ground.

"Thanks, girls!" says Clara and lunges at me again.

I try to get back up quickly, but she is faster and kicks me in the chest with the sole of her boot. I end up lying on my back, coughing from the impact.

"Hahaha! Serves you right!" Clara laughs, giving high fives to her friends.

These cocky girls are definitely underestimating me. I watch them revel in their temporary success, but I'm starting to get seriously annoyed. "You really don't think you can overpower me, even if it's three against one?"

"For an old man like you, I'm already enough!" Clara replies, advancing toward me before I can fully get back up.

From her posture, it looks like she wants to throw me another knee strike, but just as I prepare to block it like before, she changes tactics and slaps me on the cheek. It's neither a punch nor a slap, but it still has some power and grabs my attention. This time it's me who has underestimated her. She's smarter than I expected. I take my boxing stance, not because I want to hit her or hurt her, but because I need to defend myself. I easily block the first few strikes, thinking about how to immobilize her, and just when I try to grab her wrists, she incredibly finds a gap in my defense.

This is a real punch, with much more force than her previous hit. Throughout my life, I've taken boxing classes and have withstood punches from men twice her size, but there were always gloves protecting me. This, however, is a direct hit, skin against skin, knuckles against jaw, and it hits me particularly well. I feel an electric shock run through my brain, and I collapse with my butt hitting the ground.

"There you go! The bouncer has been thrown out!" she mocks me, boasting to her friends. I'm dazed, taken down by a half-drunk seventeen-year-old, and it doesn't seem appropriate to mention the various boxing courses I've attended.

I try to regain my composure when I feel two arms grab me under the armpits and help me up. "Good job, Marigold. Hold him tight!" Clara exclaims while I'm locked in a full nelson.

Marigold is the third girl in the group and is just slightly shorter than me, maybe about 5'10" or so. She's slim, with intense blue hair, mixed with black strands, cut asymmetrically so that it covers one of her eyes. Her lipstick is dark like blood, and her eyes are prominently defined by thick black eyeliner. She wears a fishnet shirt that peeks out from under a black top, still clearly showing off a belly button piercing, while on her arms she wears long black and white striped gloves that go up above her elbows. On her legs she wears socks, always with black and white stripes, black denim shorts and high-top Converse, decorated with patches, which perfectly complete her bad Emo style.

I'm still a bit dazed, and my jaw is burning, so I don't free myself immediately. Clara approaches and gives me two light slaps on the aching cheek. "Haha! You still have the mark from my punch. Does it hurt?"

"Pff! Not at all!" I lie, annoyed by the smell of alcohol on her breath.

"What do you think, Beth? Why don't we use him as a punching bag?"

"Yeah! That sounds fun!" replies the shorter friend.

I have no intention of letting them have fun with my body, so I start to break Marigold's hold. "Mmmmmmmpf." I try to bend forward, but it's not easy to get out of a full nelson.

Meanwhile, Clara is already getting ready to start.

"Let's punch him each, Beth. Whoever makes him beg first wins," she says and prepares to hit me. Her stance is pathetic. You can see from a mile away that she's never thrown a punch in her life. Well, okay, she has thrown one, and she managed to take me down with it. I feel embarrassment coursing through my veins.

"Three, two, one, go!" Clara shouts and lands her punch squarely on my abdomen. Just before she hits me, I manage to tense my abs and lean slightly forward so that the impact is significantly reduced. It doesn't hurt, but for a beginner, especially a girl, I have to admit she has some power.

I try again to free myself, but Marigold's skinny arms still manage to keep me trapped.

Next up is Beth, and her punch isn't to be underestimated either. It doesn't cause me real pain, but soon they could become a problem. What do young people eat these days to be so strong?

"Stop immediately. This is your final warning!" I exclaim firmly, but their smiles remain unchanged.

"To make us stop, you don't have to warn us; you have to beg," Clara responds, preparing for round two.

I make yet another attempt to break free, but against all odds, Marigold still doesn't let go.

Both Clara and Beth's punches land, and I resist again, but I feel a slight burn in my abdomen. Now I'm really annoyed and no longer willing to be treated this way.

"Okay! You asked for it! The moment I get free, I want to hear your apologies, or I will give you a real punch!" I start seriously straining and bending my arms forward with all my might.

"Marigold, do you want to hold him tight?" Clara exclaims, unable to aim properly.

"I-I'm trying, but he's resisting!" Marigold replies, struggling to keep my imminent escape in check. I feel her full nelson about to give way, and I hope that once I'm free, these three reckless girls understand their mistakes and don't really force me to hit them. Getting reported is always annoying, even if it's for self-defense.

I'm on the verge of breaking free, but I can't push any further. I'm surprised those skinny arms are so stubborn to overcome, but then I hear a grunt of effort from behind my ears. "NNNNG!" Incredibly, my muscular arms are being pulled back, despite me trying to stop it. I can't comprehend. I was bent forward with my elbows almost touching, and now I'm inexorably returning to the starting point. I grit my teeth and tense my core, but there's nothing I can do. Somehow, Marigold has repositioned me in a perfect full nelson and keeps arching my back, forcing my feet to rise onto my toes.

"Good job, Marigold! Now I'm going to give him a REAL punch!"

My abs are stretched, and I can't contract them properly. "No, Clara! Wait...!"

Clara's punch arrives like a cannonball, knocking the air out of my body. I instinctively raise my knees to soften the blow, and Marigold is thrown off balance by my weight. She releases me to avoid being dragged down, while I collapse onto the concrete, gasping for air and holding back a vomit reflex.

"AHAHAH! Maybe I went a bit too hard!" Clara laughs, immediately followed by both her emo friends.

[Sicod]

Intrigued to see where this goes. My preference is overpowering, not ball busting, but willing to give it a follow.

[oneak91]

Nice story! You have a fantastic writting style.
Is there any chance that you will continue with your "Training for the Olympics" story?

[Ophaki]

Thank you very much for the compliment. I have some ideas to continue that story. There will probably be a sequel, but I can't promise anything. I write when inspiration strikes me.

For Sicod: Also my preference is overpowering, don't worry. Nothing ball busting in the next chapters

[Ophaki]

Chapter 2

I cough and curse, while mentally trying to wake up from this bad dream. Unfortunately, this is reality and it hurts more than one might think. I've always been a respectable bouncer, the one that venue owners could always count on, and now I'm stuck at a ridiculous town party, getting manhandled by three half-drunk seventeen-year-olds. If this gets out, I would have to quit my job for good, so I need to resolve this situation as soon as possible, even if it means making compromises.

As I continue to curse myself and simultaneously try to catch my breath, I feel my wrists and ankles being grabbed and pulled in opposite directions.

"Hold him still while we decide what to do!" Clara orders, grabbing a cigarette from the counter where they were sitting earlier.

I glance up and down to see what her two friends are doing. Beth is holding my hands up above my head, while Marigold is sitting on my shins, immobilizing my legs. I try to free myself, but I can't shift either of their weights.

Meanwhile, Clara lights her cigarette and comes back toward me.

"You girls are making a huge mistake. You could get into serious trouble," I try to negotiate with a bit of diplomacy.

Beth and Marigold ignore me, while Clara sits down on my stomach and crosses her arms over her legs. "It seems to me that you're the only one who's in serious trouble, my dear bouncer."

"I'm talking about a criminal record, Clara. This is no joke. I could report you for what you're doing."

"And what will you say? Three girls beat me up and made me beg them to stop? And besides, you started it by stealing our bottle. You should take responsibility."

"Okay! You're right! Then how about I pay you back for the bottle?"

"That's for sure! But first, I want to have a little more fun with you." Clara lays across my body, bringing our faces closer together, and takes a long drag from the cigarette. "I wonder what I could do to you now?" she says, blowing the smoke in my face, causing me to cough because I'm not a smoker.

"Cough! Cough! How about you let me go and we close this chapter by forgetting everything? In exchange, next Saturday, I'll get you in free to the disco."

"Pff! We’ve never paid to get in. Why don’t we just keep playing here? It’s fun, and I bet you’re enjoying it too."

"No! Not at all! I’m not enjoying this one bit!" I emphasize.

Clara looks at me with feigned offended eyes and then lowers her hand until it reaches my pants. "Let's see if you're telling the truth."

Her fingers begin to feel around my crotch and then grab my non-erect penis, through the fabric. I feel a huge embarrassment growing, but I try to hide it. "Did you see? What did I tell you?"

"Indeed... but if I do this...", Clara begins to move back and forth, rubbing her crotch against mine. I try to erase every erotic thought from my mind, but in less than 5 seconds I find myself with a full erection, while Clara smiles satisfied, a few inches above my face.

"You guys really like being submissive, don’t you?" she says, before taking another big drag from her cigarette. I see her lips getting closer to mine, and I turn my head to avoid any contact, but she grabs my cheeks with her fingers and holds me tightly. My jaw still hurts from her punch, and my mouth involuntarily opens. Clara immediately parts her lips and kisses me violently. I feel her rough tongue assaulting the inside of my mouth and the cigarette smoke pouring into my lungs. I start coughing incessantly while all three of my captors burst into laughter in unison.

"Hahaha! You're such a joke, bouncer!" Clara comments, letting the ash from her cigarette fall onto my hair. "I’d say we’ve played enough. You can go back to being a security guard, but give us the money for the bottle, plus 300 $ for the trouble!"

"What? 300 $?"

"Or would you prefer to remain trapped? 300 $ seems fair to buy your freedom, and I also want you to thank me for not hurting you too badly!"

I hear the giggles of Beth and Marigold as I am forced to bite the bullet. "Fine, but promise me you won't tell anyone about what happened here tonight."

"Deal!" Clara agrees, and to seal the agreement, she pinches my nose with her fingers since my hand is still trapped. I've never been so humiliated in my entire life.

We all stand up, and I pull my wallet out of my pants pocket. 300 $ is nearly everything I earned during the festival, but if it erases the events of this evening, I'll gladly pay it. The only thing I truly can't stand is having to thank Clara. I watch her laugh happily with her two friends, and there’s nothing right about it. I only did my job, and a series of unfortunate events brought me to this absurd situation. Why should I thank her? For not hitting me too hard? Does this reckless girl even realize that I could destroy her with one hand if I wanted to? I'm a bouncer, constantly training, with a background in both boxing and self-defense techniques. Now that I'm free, I should make her pay for all the humiliation she made me endure. I will have on my side the fact that they were in a restricted area, and it will be my word as a security officer against that of three drunk seventeen-year-olds. I put my wallet back in my pocket and prepare for my revenge.

I grab Marigold from behind and push her against Clara. Neither of them expected my retaliation, and both fall to the ground disastrously. Beth doesn’t immediately understand what is happening, and in a flash, I have her in a headlock. I have to scare her to death and force her to run away.

"Now it’s my turn to have fun, you little brats. I suggest you leave, Beth, or you'll suffer the same punishment as them!"

The shorter girl is trying to grab my forearm, but she has no chance of freeing herself. I only hear faint murmurs as she tries to inhale the little air I'm allowing her. Meanwhile, Clara and Marigold are getting up, but this time I'm ready, and I won’t allow anyone to intervene.

"Don’t you dare move, or I’ll squeeze until she suffocates!" I exclaim decisively, trying to be as convincing as possible.

Luckily, my bluff worked and neither of them dares to make false moves.

"It seems the word of a bouncer is worth very little!" Clara exclaims arrogantly.

"I bet you wouldn't have kept your promise either!" I reply.

"How dare you? Our word is sacred, and we would have kept it in any case. You've betrayed our trust, and for this, you'll pay dearly!"

"Eh, so much morality. The truth is you won’t do anything, and I could even report you for stealing my iPhone. Now you’ll give it back and..."

Distracted by this conversation, I didn't notice that Beth is trying to free herself from my hold again. Failing to remove my forearm from her throat, she's now bending forward, trying to unbalance me. I immediately tense my muscles, intending to pull her back, just as Marigold did with me, but it's like trying to stop a small tank. I feel my body bend against my will over her back, and my feet lose contact with the ground. There's a rapid sensation of emptiness as my 190 lbs are supported solely by her sturdy legs and then flipped like in a catapult. I land violently on my back on the solid concrete, and I lose track of time and space. When I regain consciousness, I see the faces of my tormentors looking down on me, and I realize I'm truly in a sea of trouble.

"How do we handle this now?" Clara asks, pressing her boot heavily on my chest.

"I... I'm sorry. I apologize to all three of you," I pathetically plead.

"Oh, no! Now it’s too late for apologies. Now it’s time to pay the price!"

I feel Beth and Marigold grab my ankles and start dragging me across the ground. Dozens of pebbles and shards of glass tear at my uniform and the skin on my back along the way, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Once they reach the area near the crate where I initially found them, their march halts.

"Lift him up!" Clara orders, and immediately the two girls step onto the wooden crate, never releasing my ankles. I try to bend and straighten my knees to make their task harder, but my weight doesn’t seem to be much of a problem for their combined strength, and after a few seconds, my back loses contact with the ground. I find myself upside down, staring at Clara’s fishnet stockings, and I can’t feel more helpless than this.

"First off, I’m going to take the money you owe us," she starts.

"Wait, Clara..."

"Shut up!" she interrupts, landing a punch in my stomach. I wasn't expecting it, and the blow hurts. "Don’t make me give you another REAL punch!" she taunts, smiling with her friends, but I don’t trust her sarcasm. My abdomen is burning; it’s impossible this wasn’t a punch at full strength.

While I catch my breath, Clara slips her hand into my pocket and takes my wallet.

"15 per the bottle, 300 for disturbing us, and another 135 for taking advantage of our trust. You’ve cleared your debt, Mr. Bouncer!"

450 $ is the full pay for all three nights of the festival. Thanks to Clara, it means I would have worked for free, but she doesn’t care. She stuffs the notes into her bra and puts the now-empty wallet back in my pocket.

"Please, Clara. That's all I have," I say, trying to appeal to her mercy, but her cold stare tells me she didn’t appreciate my words.

"I told you to shut up, didn’t I?" Clara raises her fist, but this time I’m ready and brace my abs. It’s a solid punch that hurts a little despite my defenses. She's definitely poured all her energy into this attack. I know she can’t really hurt me, but I need to find a way out before she thinks of something more dangerous, like grabbing a piece of wood or glass.

"Give me back my money!" I urge her, showing that I didn’t feel any pain. I try to look her in the eye, or at least not directly at her fishnet stockings, but it’s not easy in my upside-down position.

"What? You still insist? Do you really want me to give you a REAL punch? Last time you were almost throwing up."

"What real punch? You're just a coward!" I insult her, calling her bluff. "Face me in a one-on-one match and see what happens to you."

Clara kneels down so that our eyes can meet. "I’ve already beaten you that way, and here’s the proof," she says, pressing her finger on my reddened cheek. I turn my head from the pain.

Perfect! Now she’s really convinced she can beat me. I need to poke at her pride. "That time I didn’t even try to hit you, and yours was just a lucky shot. You have no idea how strong a man’s punch can be."

I’ve struck a chord. I can see in her eyes that my words have wounded her pride deeply. Maybe she's really considering accepting my challenge.

"A man’s punch? No, I don’t know. But I’d like to find out. Let him go!"

[Sicod]

I am ready for the one on one beat down.

[Ophaki]

Chapter 3

At her command, my ankles are released, and I land awkwardly on my hands. It's done! Now I just have to intimidate Clara with my superior strength and be cautious of any likely intervention from the other two.

I stand up and assume a fighting stance, while Beth and Marigold sit and light a cigarette. These girls are a bit too sure of themselves. Clara watches me and tries to imitate, but she has the worst boxing guard I’ve ever seen. She has a million open holes, leaving her face, throat, and abdomen exposed. Basically, I could take her down with a single hit, but I’d seriously risk sending her to the hospital. She deserves it for what she put me through, but I'm not that cynical and will settle for teaching her a serious lesson.

I do a couple of side movements, just to increase my concentration. I know it’s not a real match, and she’s not a real opponent, but I don’t want to underestimate her again and risk making yet another fool of myself. After the footwork, I land a few light punches on her arms, preparing to deliver the main course.

"Are those supposed to be man punches?" she asks, naively. What an ignoramus! She can’t even tell when someone is serious. "Haha! They don’t seem very strong," she laughs and starts mimicking me with little punches on my arms. She has no idea what’s about to hit her.

I wait for her to finish her charade, and without warning, I hit her with a powerful hook to the shoulder. The force of the blow makes Clara step to the side and forces her to regain her balance. Her smile vanishes, and she finally understands that I'm not kidding anymore. "How was that?" I ask her, satisfied.

"Ouch! You hurt me!" she replies, rubbing her shoulder.

"And that wasn’t even strong!" I guess there’s no need to give any more demonstrations. I could have hit her in the face or other vital points, but I think this is enough to persuade any intelligent girl.

However, Clara isn’t that intelligent. She opens her arm sideways and lunges at me with a hook, but it’s very telegraphed. I could easily dodge it, but I don’t want to give the impression I fear her. She’s just a girl, right? Her punch sinks into my outer shoulder, and it’s... overwhelming. I feel capillaries bursting upon impact and an electric shock coursing through my nerves to the fingertips. I stagger 2 or 3 steps to avoid falling and feel a numbness along my entire arm. Where the hell did she get all that power?

My eyes fall on Beth and Marigold, who are smirking while taking drags from their cigarettes.

"Come on, bouncer! Show me what a strong punch looks like!" Clara urges me, patting her bare shoulder. I see the redness of my punch on her pale skin, then I observe the spot where she hit me. A bruise is starting to spread, and my entire forearm is half-numb.

I struggle to believe how this could really be happening, but I know I have to do something. I mentally review all the boxing lessons and get ready to pour all my strength into a single punch. Straight wrist, slightly bent elbow, free shoulder, and 190 lbs to support my thrust. I hit her soft, feminine shoulder squarely, and I almost risk dislocating a joint because of the force I’ve applied. The recoil is devastating, and I'm afraid I’ve overdone it. I'm not wearing boxing gloves, and a punch of this magnitude could have fractured her bone.

"Aaaagh!" Clara cries out, retreating a couple of steps. The idiot didn’t even try to evade or at least cushion the blow and took it at full strength. I see her move her arm up and down as if to check that everything is fine, and I sigh in relief for not having fractured her anything. "So... was that a strong punch?" she asks with a grimace, trying to mask her pain.

"Y-yes!" I reply, hoping Clara finally wants to throw in the towel.

"Very well. Let me now show you the punch of a woman!"

"What?" I take a step back, intimidated. She really wants to pursue this fight after taking my punch at maximum power? Maybe this girl suffers from masochism or some strange disorder like that. And what did she mean with that phrase? Wasn't her previous punch her strongest? Does she really have something more to show? My arm is still tingling. I see her approaching. If it were true, she could dislocate my shoulder. She’s bluffing, right? Or maybe not? Should I believe her? She’s almost there. I look at her purple-painted fingers. She can't have that much power in there.

Just before her punch hits my shoulder, I arch my torso back and avoid the blow, while she misses and loses balance with her momentum. The air movement from her punch is impressive, so I act on instinct: I interlock my fingers and strike her hard on the back, sending her crashing to the ground. It was a cheap shot, I know, but fear got the better of me. I watch Clara collapse to the floor, probably knocked out from the force of my blow. Immediately, I think of Beth and Marigold and expect to see them rushing to their friend's aid. I turn towards them, ready to defend myself, but they’re still sitting calmly on the crate, taking drags from their cigarettes.

“RUN,” I read on Marigold’s lips, and I quickly realize Clara is getting back up. Her resilience is terrifying, and I can only imagine she’s incredibly angry now. I turn and start running toward the stands, where there are dozens of other people. I hear the sound of her boots starting to hit the concrete, and I understand she’s chasing me. I cover several yards without looking back, but just before reaching the pallets filled with beer barrels and boxes, I feel a hand grab me by my uniform and yank me backward. I lose my balance and tumble to the ground, injuring the palms of my hands upon impact. From my prone position, I can see the festival lights and the legs of people strolling by. I try to call for help, but the speakers' music drowns out my voice.

Fear turns into terror when I feel Clara's hands grab me and force me to stand. After lifting me against my will, the furious seventeen-year-old slams me back against a pallet and holds me pinned with her hand.

"This is the punch of an angry woman!" she says, showing me her clenched fist.

“No, Clara! Please!” I beg for mercy, but there’s no forgiveness in her eyes for what I’ve done. I can only brace my abs with all my strength as I watch her arm unleash the most powerful punch I’ve ever endured. Her knuckles pierce my abdomen as if it were made of butter, and I feel the pressure rise to my head, nearly forcing my eyes out of their sockets. My lungs are emptied of all the air stored, and my stomach ejects the hot dog I had for dinner.

"Gross!" Clara exclaims, watching the half-digested food fragments fall to the ground behind her.

I bend over, desperately praying that my breathing will soon resume functioning, but Clara grabs me by the hair and forces me back upright.

"Instead, this is the STRONG punch of an angry woman!"

My body is already in a state of extreme suffering, and I can’t even manage to voice a plea. I already know my sad fate and watch as her punch crashes into my chin like a meteorite. I hear the crack of my jaw being displaced and the clinking of a couple of teeth bouncing on the concrete. I fall to the ground destroyed, with the taste of blood invading my mouth and the realization of being utterly powerless against this seventeen-year-old’s overwhelming strength. My senses are faint, and my thoughts are muddled, but I clearly remember Clara’s boot landing forcefully in front of my nose. What does she want to do to me now? Nothing can stop her, and I don’t even have the strength to lift a finger. I see her bend over me, ready to inflict damage on my defenseless body, when I hear a familiar voice rushing to my aid.

"Clara! What the hell are you doing?"

With great difficulty, I shift my gaze in the direction of the voice and see Professor Thompson appear from behind the pallets. The festival lights behind her make her look like an angel descended from heaven. She is dressed in a burgundy and black summer dress with short puff sleeves and red ballet flats. The rectangular glasses, the abundant lipstick on her lips, and the high bun on her head are the same as when she scolded me for not understanding her explanations. I wish I could warn her to run away immediately, but I cannot utter any comprehensible sound. My poor former professor, so small and fragile, risks being overwhelmed by the unmanageable strength of these young monsters.

I expect to hear a cheeky and rude reply, but it’s as if the air is filled with an aura of terror. "Mom?" Clara asks, in an alarmed tone, as she immediately stands up and moves away from me.

My former math professor quickly reaches the spot where I am lying and gently cradles my head. "Oh my God! I know him. It’s Donovan, a former student of mine. Who did this to him?"

"It was Clara!" Beth and Marigold promptly respond in unison.

"Bastards!" Clara curses under her breath.

Professor Thompson stands up and approaches her daughter sternly. She is shorter than the seventeen-year-old, but her demeanor drastically overshadows her.

"They helped me, though," Clara confesses, lowering her head, mortified.

"I am very disappointed, young ladies! All three of you! You two, go away immediately! Your mothers will not be pleased when I tell them what you've done. Expect a good scolding."

"Yes! We're sorry, Mrs. Thompson," say Beth and Marigold before running off, frightened.

"As for you, Clara, we will deal with this at home, but know that you won't get away with it, and expect a punishment of at least two weeks!"

"But Mom..." the girl tries to protest.

"No 'buts'!" Her mother declares and gives her a light smack on the back of the head. "Get to the car, NOW!"

Clara also falls silent and leaves with her head down.

After dealing with the three rebellious girls, Mrs. Thompson returns to take care of me. "I'm so sorry, Donovan. I just can't seem to keep that rascal in line."

I sit up, helped by the comforting hand of my former professor, and try to gather my thoughts. "Gu... gou gaugh... ghu.. guy gog ghe gog gu?", that would be: "But... your daughter... how... why does she obey you?" I mumble, trying to make myself understood despite my dislocated jaw and missing teeth.

"Clara? Well, I'm her mother. It's not in her interest to disobey me."

"Gu... geg... ghe gog!", that would be: "But... well... she's so strong!"

"Yes, she's strong, but nothing a mother can't handle!" She replies and flexes her bicep in front of my swollen eyes.

[Docta1]

Great story...