Good Girls Gone Bad

by Alexa Nichols

  Tragedy brought them together, lust makes them inseparable, and love just might be the only thing that can save their lives…

  The Past

  It was late, Sara was tired (it was hours past her bedtime), and the cacophony of sounds in the small grade school gymnasium was making it hard for her to focus. Adults and children alike were murmuring anxiously amongst themselves as they waited for the charismatic Latin man to speak.

  Even though Sara was barely five, she knew he was a very important man. He was, her uncle explained to her, their founder.

  She also knew that she instantly and inexplicitly disliked him, though she couldn’t put her finger on exactly why. Physically, he was striking: meticulously dressed, in shape, sharp distinguished features, mesmerizing dark eyes, beautifully long straight black hair, and accompanied on either side by attractive young women. His personality seemed outwardly warm also: not only did he have an easy way about him, but he smiled and shook hands with anyone who directed their attention to him.

  When he approached her, it took every ounce of her willpower to not turn and run away.

  “You are Sara, yes?”

  Sara nodded, shocked that he knew her name, and utterly unsure of how to address him. He smiled warmly, but his smile did not put her at ease.

  “Do you know who I am, Sara?”

  Sara nodded again. “Yes, sir. You are the one that started all this.”

  The man laughed. “Yes, but that is not who I am. That is simply what I have done. My name is Dominique. My friends call me διάβολος. That is who I am. I would like it very much if we could be friends. You remind me of my daughter, Miel. You look remarkably similar to her. Do you think we could be friends, Sara?”

  Sara’s eyes widened. Friends? With this man? With the founder? She nodded her head, sensing that was the reaction the man wished to see, and Dominique smiled in response.

  “Can you repeat after me, Sara? Dreihundert Männer, von denen jeder jeden kennt, leiten die wirtschaftliche Geschicke des Kontinents und suchen sich Nachfolger aus ihrer Umgebung.”

  Sara tried to repeat the words, but she butchered them horribly. The man smiled as she fought through the ordeal, trying her very best to do as she was told.

  “Win this fight, Sara. I will be watching. Win this fight, and I will reward you.”

  Sara nodded.

  Her uncle, watching in the background, nervously wiped his hands on his pants…

  Sara had to focus. Because she had to win this fight.

  The thing was, however, Sara didn't want to fight. She knew why she had to; her uncle explained it very clearly on the way here: they needed money for food and school supplies, not to mention clothes, and since her parents died and he took sole custody of her, it was her responsibility to do anything she could to help.

  She was only five. She believed what he said.

  The other girl, Fatima, looked just as scared and reluctant as she was. Her uncle was unusually excited, telling her that Fatima’s father was a big deal in their small blip of a town and would pay well if Sara won, so she had to win. If she lost, they would lose far more than money…though what he meant by that Sara had no idea.

  And another thing: they were not dressed to fight. Not compared to the fighters Sara had seen on television. Sara was wearing blue jeans and a Big Bird t-shirt, while Fatima wore a pretty white embroidered dress decorated with light pink flowers. Fatima was smaller than Sara both in height and musculature, and Sara knew she would most likely win any sort of physical confrontation.

  That should have made her confident. It didn’t.

  She was terrified.

  She had never been in a fight before.

  She jumped as the announcement was made that it was time for the fight to begin, and stood there dumbly as the people gathered around to watch, some cheering, some laughing, most yelling.

  Neither girl moved. Neither girl wanted to.

  Sara heard her uncle yelling at her, commanding her to attack the other girl, to show no mercy, to do whatever it took to win. She could see Fatima's father doing much the same to his daughter, his sentiments echoed by the well-dressed crowd surrounding them. They were becoming agitated, anxious, and visibly impatient. The noise in the gym grew deafening.

  Sara watched as a stream of urine ran down the other girl’s leg.

  “If you don’t win tonight, I’ll be…extra rough with you…” her uncle hissed in her ear as she stood there.

  Sara gulped and tried to still the shaking of her body. She knew exactly what her uncle meant. She didn’t have a choice. She steeled herself, then made her hands into tight little fists and ran towards the slightly smaller girl, who screamed and raised her hands to her face to defend herself.

  The fight was over almost before it began; Fatima barely fought back. Neither girl knew how to truly fight, and Sara, the stronger and bigger of the two, used her size and strength to her advantage and quickly overpowered the smaller girl, repeatedly striking her until her fists bled. Soon Fatima was sobbing, bleeding, and not even trying to fight back.

  The fight was called. Sara had won.

  She felt strong, gentle hands come to rest on her shoulders, pulling her away from the small bloody and beaten girl.

  “You did good, Sara. You won. It is time for your reward.”

  The hair on the back of Sara’s neck raised. It was the founder, Dominique.

  As Dominique led her away, she looked back and watched as her uncle and Fatima's father casually shook hands and congratulated one another, acting as if what had just transpired was little more than a televised football game. Fatima's father held a small stack of bills out to her uncle, then took it away and nodded towards his daughter with a smile on his face. He was giving her uncle a choice: he could have the money or borrow his daughter. Her uncle seemed to consider this for a moment, then pushed the cash away and grabbed Fatima instead.

  Fatima ended up going home with them.

  Her screams and cries throughout the night made it impossible for Sara to sleep...

  The Present

  Antonio looked at Tanya, who was sitting right in front of him, cross-legged just as he was, their knees touching. They were both naked, and Antonio was beyond horny. But Tanya refused to sleep with him tonight. She told him mysteriously that she had other plans, better plans, and that she wanted to try something that she thought he would like even better than sex.

  He remembered her laughing at the expression that leaped on his face.

  “What kind of expression is that? There are better things than sex, you know!”

  Antonio frowned in concentration. “I don’t know. I can’t think of anything.”

  “That’s because you’re thinking with the wrong head,” Tanya said grinning.

  Antonio shrugged. She was right. When it came to her, he often thought with the wrong head. He couldn’t help it. He was attracted to her on an almost insane level, and had been since they were younger. Her barely noticeable pregnant belly only served to turn him on even more.

  But he would never force himself on her, so he waited patiently for her to say something more. The urge to reach out and grab her, to pull her to him and sheathe himself completely inside her was immense. But so was his curiosity. The idea of something better than sex intrigued him.

  “Look me in the eyes,” Tanya instructed him.

  Antonio moved his massive, muscular body closer and waited. He was struggling to keep his eyes off her wet glistening sex, at her hard, small pink nipples. She was wet, and he could smell her sweet, natural musk from where he sat. She was horny, as was he, and his erection enthusiastically strained for attention. She wanted him, he wanted her, and yet here they were, sitting cross-legged and looking at each other instead of giving in to their body’s needs.

  “Eyes, Antonio. Look at my eyes,” Tanya gently reminded him.

  Antonio ripped his eyes away from her crotch. Again.

  Tanya rewarded him with a smile. “Now give me your ha
nd. There. Now keep your eyes on me. Don’t look at what I’m doing. Don’t look at our hands. That’s it. Keep eye contact. If you break eye contact, we stop, do you understand? Good. Good. Now let me put your hand…here…”

  Antonio knew precisely where she put his hand. On her pussy.

  Tanya briefly closed her eyes as he began automatically fumbling her swollen womanhood, briefly shivering at how good his touch felt. And he was keeping eye contact, much to her surprise. She smiled, encouraging him, and removed her hand from his.

  “Keep your eyes on me, baby,” Tanya cooed as she reached out and took his cock in both of her hands and began firmly stroking it.

  Antonio’s breath caught. Something about maintaining eye contact, about not looking at what they were doing to each other’s body’s and only touching each other with their hands, was driving him absolutely insane. He wanted to be inside her so bad, wanted to push her back and plunge as deep as he could into her body…

  “How does this feel, baby?” Tanya asked him as she continued her stroking, quickening it, alternating the movements of her hands in different directions as they slid up and down the length of his shaft.

  “Good. Real good,” Antonio barely managed to get out. It was the truth. It felt extraordinarily good. He fought on keeping his focus on pleasuring Tanya, on finding her clit and rubbing it with his thumb while the rest of his fingers splayed and played with her folds, at times slightly entering her, others rubbing her wetness.

  His attention paid off. Tanya cocked her head back and whimpered, and her hips began making small thrusting motions against his hand. Tanya whipped her head back to face him and renewed her stroking, taking one of her hands out of the equation to cup his giant, swollen balls.

  “They’re so hot. And big. I bet they’re full, aren’t they? It’s been a week since I let you have sex with me, hasn’t it?”

  “Eight days, and about three hours,” Antonio grunted, struggling to maintain his concentration enough to keep pleasuring her. It was like a game, he realized then, a game with no real winner or loser. Seeing who could distract the other enough with pleasure to stop their pleasuring of the other…

  “Have you relieved yourself during that time?” Tanya asked in a husky, lustful voice.

  Antonio shook his head. “Told me. Not to. No.”

  Tanya nodded, pleased. She believed him. His body was responding so quickly and with so much attention that she knew the answer to her question even before he asked it.

  “From now on, your cum belongs to me. And only me. You aren’t allowed to release it, under any circumstances. Only I can. Do you understand me?”

  Antonio nodded his head as his muscles tightened. He would have agreed to anything at that moment.

  Tanya began breathing heavily, quickly, as did Antonio. They were on the road to orgasm. The only question now was who was going to cross the finish line first. She straightened her back and whimpered, feeling her insides tighten around Antonio’s finger, and he could feel her repeated contractions as she came on his hand.

  He won. But only by seconds. It was too much for him, and his own orgasm came hard and fast. He could feel the sperm being forcibly ejected from his balls, could feel it catapulting through the air and hitting Tanya on her pregnant stomach, slowly sliding down to her nether regions, mingling with the wetness of her folds. Neither quit pleasuring the other as they came, and each seemed to come for longer than they ever had before…

  Elementary School

  43,800 Hours to go

  “You think he’s cute, don’t you?” Sara asked her best friend Tanya as she sat down next to her. Tanya was pretending to read a book while she watched the new boy, Antonio, socializing with the rest of the kids during recess. Sara had just finished an energetic game of soccer. Tanya wished she would have kept at it.

  “No. Don’t be stupid.”

  Sara grinned, her pretty tan face practically beaming through her long curly black hair. Hair that Tanya had always been envious of. It was so pretty and effortlessly beautiful compared to Tanya’s short dirty blonde hair…

  “Come on, we’re in seventh grade now. We’re practically adults. You can admit if you think a guy’s cute or not. I think he’s cute.”

  Tanya looked crossly at her friend. Logically, she knew she had a point, but she would never admit it.

  “He’s OK. He seems to be quickly popular though,” Tanya shrugged. Already more popular than she was, she thought to herself, and she had lived here all her life. The fact was, the only real friend she had was Sara, and she was clueless as to why she even had her. Sara could be mega popular if she wanted to be, but she chose to not hang out with those kinds of people. Maybe she was dropped on her head when she was a baby or something. No one willingly decided to not be popular.

  “He’s only popular right now because this is such a small town and he’s the new kid. Which is exactly why you should go talk to him before anyone gets their hooks in him. He’s really nice,” Sara said as she leaned sideways, intentionally violating every inch of Tanya’s personal space. Tanya just rolled her eyes and allowed herself to be leaned on. She was used to these kinds of things from Sara by now.

  “How do you know? Have you talked to him?”

  Sara nodded and sighed. “As a matter of fact, yes, I have. He’s in a few of my classes. He even sits next to me in one of them. He actually made first contact. I dropped my pencil, and he bent over and picked it up. He’s got an adorable butt.”

  “Sara!”

  Sara shrugged. “Hey, it’s not my fault. You can’t blame me for looking. Anyway, he’s super sweet. We talked through the entire class. We even exchanged phone numbers. Most of those girls talking to him now have no idea that he’s just trying to be nice; he’s not really interested in any of them.”

  Tanya pushed back against her best friend, making her sit up straight. “How do you know?”

  Sara smiled. “Because he’s been stealing looks at you every few seconds, usually right after you steal one at him. I was watching you guys while I was playing. So pathetic.”

  Tanya looked over at the new kid. What would happen if she just went up to him and started talking? Would he talk back just to be nice? Had he really been watching her this entire time?

  “Never know if you don’t go up and talk to him,” Sara said as she crossed her arms and grinned at her best friend.

  “You’re not going to try and talk to the new boy, are you?”

  Tanya and Sara turned and looked for the source of the voice. It was Sara’s arch-enemy, Fatima. She was only a few feet away and had a mocking sneer on her face.

  “So? What if she is? It’s none of your business,” Sara said as she stood up and got in the other girl’s face.

  Fatima rolled her eyes. “Please. Why would a boy like that be interested in a nerd like her? An ugly nerd. She looks like a stick figure with hair. No boy would be interested in her. She’s better off sticking to her books.”

  Tanya gasped as Sara hit Fatima in the face, her violent act swift and unavoidable. Fatima dropped to the ground, and Sara leaped on top of her, continuing her assault. Tanya panicked - she had never seen a real fight this up close and personal before - and stood up and took a step back, not knowing what else to do. There was something in Sara’s eyes, something wild and dangerous, that she had never seen there before. And the way she hit her, so fast and so often, her hands little more than a blur, made Tanya wonder just how many fights her best friend had been in.

  Antonio came out of nowhere and broke the two girls up, giving Tanya a worried glance as teachers and students came to assist him.

  Sara barely had a scratch on her, and her eyes were empty, like she was fueled by instinct alone…

  High School

  168 Hours to go…

  Tanya itched at the cuts on her arms under her shirt sleeve as she walked down the sidewalk, her eyes downcast. It was her last day of high school; it was also her eighteenth birthday. No one noticed the latter, of c
ourse. Well, no one but her best friend Sara, who had planned to take her to a bar to celebrate. Not that she could drink anything there since she wasn’t 21 yet, but still. She couldn’t even enter the bar before. Now she could. Sara swore she would have fun just playing pool and chatting up the guys, things that Tanya had zero desire to do. So, she turned her down. She would rather spend her birthday cuddling a book in her apartment, relishing the fact that she didn’t have to get up early for school the next day.

  Sara was quick to point out that life decisions like that were the biggest reason she was still a virgin.

  And why Sara wasn’t. By a long shot.

  Of course, Sara was also a full year older than she was. Not that this really had anything to do with the virginity situation. But still. It made her feel better to remind herself of that. She quickly quit itching at her cuts as her best friend approached.

  “Hey sexy, why so downcast? We’re no longer High School students! We’re out of this bitch! Legally adults and shit!” Sara exclaimed as she walked towards her, a slight limp in her step.

  “Why are you limping? You look like you’re in pain. What’s wrong?”

  Sara grinned. “It’s nothing. I had a rough weekend. No biggie.”

  Tanya eyed her best friend suspiciously. “And…is that a black eye? Are you trying to cover up a black eye with makeup? Sara, what happened?”

  Sara rolled her eyes. “Such a mother hen. Nothing. I fell. Besides, that’s not why I came over here. Why are you looking so downcast?”

  Tanya shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just…I’m 18 already. You’re the only friend I have, my family lives out of state, and I’ve been living on my own since I was 16. I just feel like I’m on the road to be one of those old ladies with like a dozen cats whose never been married. And still a virgin.”

  Sara laughed, then winced and grabbed her side. She regained her composure quickly. “Girl, you have no idea how lucky you are to have a place of your own. I live with my grandmother. You have, like, the coolest parents ever to even allow you to have your own place. I mean, my family life could be an entire Jerry Springer episode. Hell, season. Besides babe, I wouldn’t let you be alone. I would go lesbian for you before I let that happen.”