Midges Story Ch 07

Chapter 7

I.

I would be lying if I said it wasn't a weird rest of the week at school.

On Tuesday, I had an English test on Huckleberry Finn. I read the book and a half dozen commentaries that morning from 3am to 6am. Aced it. I had a paper due in my American Government class on Wednesday. I banged out an "A" paper in an hour. I had always done well academically, but I had always had to work at it. Not any harder than anyone else -- getting good grades isn't easy. Well, it hadn't been until then. None of what was coming from my teachers seemed to present much of a challenge.

Something that was alarming, to me anyway, was how many boys -- mostly the ones with steady girlfriends -- were showing up at school with bruises and other mysterious injuries. Well, "mysterious" to anyone who never spent any time in the girl's locker room. It was apparent that ramped up sex drives and aggression were not unique to me and Susan. The boys were having a tough time of it. They'd probably all dreamed of having girlfriends who craved sex nonstop. They hadn't thought that might include ridiculous physical strength and the stamina to back it up. There were a few barely sated girls and a lot of limping guys at school.

By the end of that week, though, things started to normalize a bit. The girls were getting a handle on their new-found strength and abilities. With that came a sort of realization that such a change had to be hidden a bit and restrained. There would be a backlash if the world suddenly turned upside down. Girls were used to holding themselves back in things like academics or professional life as a hedge against putting off men. It wasn't right, but it was the way of the world. The new asymmetry in physical and mental power didn't change that dynamic. Women were good at this, and, by the end of the week, the weirdness of the beginning of the week was being passed off as a series of odd coincidences.

I had hung out with Jason a couple of times through the week. He was a really neat guy, and, ladies, a great kisser. He was the first guy that I think liked me for, well "me". I didn't mind that boys were attracted to my legs, ass, and tits -- having been a gawky 13-year-old, I was sort of please that they were. It was just nice that what I had to say seemed to matter most to Jason.

I did feel bad for him, though. After what happened with Milton and, to a lesser extent, what happened with Jim and Brad (which in a lot of ways was worse but also, "fuck them"), I was timid about letting things get out of hand with Jason. It was really hard. Every time he touched me, I wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck him like an animal until the next new moon. It also couldn't have been easy for Jason. Every other guy in school was getting his pelvis cracked any time he so much as smiled at a girl, and poor Jason was left with make out sessions in the TV room.

That was about to change.

Saturday was St. Patrick's Day -- always a big deal in the Callahan-Ryan household. There was also a big party going at a friend's house over by the college. It was his parent's 25

th

anniversary, and they'd taken a trip to Ireland to celebrate. It was big sprawling house with a nice patio, pool (it was still too chilly for swimming), and gardens. It was set up to be the best party between then and graduation. I, for one, planned to make the most of it.

Jason joined me, Millie, and Dad for dinner -- the obligatory corned beef and cabbage. Jason knew my dad already, so it wasn't too weird. Also Dad was a few pints in, which made him a lot friendlier. It also had the unfortunate effect of causing him to sing along with every Irish pub song that came across the Bluetooth speaker in the kitchen. "Midgie," he asked me, grabbing me by the arm and waist and spinning me across the kitchen, "Do you know what the true curse of Irishman is?"

"It's not that he doesn't know the words to a song," I replied.

The both of us and Millie altogether, "It's that he knows them all." Millie and I laughed. Dad was caught and look at us and then to Jason.

"I may have said that one once or twice before," Dad said. He then added a warning, "Be careful, son. When an Irish girl's eyes are smiling, they're up to something. They'll steal your heart with a smile and make you pay with tears to get it back. And, when you least expect it, they'll mock your very well-worn sayings on the most sacred day of the year." He was a little teary as he finished. He missed Mom a lot at times like this - times that they had share in fun together. Then he laughed at himself, "Well, it's like they say, deep down, most Irishmen are poets."

To which I added what had been Mother's line, "Yeah, it's just that, on the surface, most of them are assholes."

We laughed, but I knew Dad was still a little sad.

I loved how welcoming Dad always was when I had boys over. He never made a show of protection or tried to intimidate -- he was far too modern for such things. One of my early dates had told him one evening when picking me up that a father of another girl he'd gone out with made a big deal about showing off all the guns the father owned. My dad laughed and said to the boy, "Son, if I were to bring out a gun, it would be for you to protect yourself from her. I can tell you, having dated her mother, you'd be smart to save the last round for yourself." He wasn't raising princesses who needed his protection. He was raising warrior queens.

After dinner I went up to change.

I'd convinced myself that I could control my animal urges and it was time to let myself go with Jason. I had arranged a nice hotel room not far from the party -- my cousin Nadia gave me a credit card to use for such things I couldn't explain to my dad. She meant girl products or maybe birth control, but this also fit the loose definition she'd given me.

I suppose I should have asked Jason if he was looking for more physically from our relationship. I had taken it as a given. Once he saw me in the outfit I'd put together for tonight, I was pretty sure I wouldn't have to ask. It was sexy as fuck. Let me start from the bottom up. A black thong -- sheer in the front went on first. Then I had the sexiest black bra. Not that my girls, big as they were, needed much support, but this thing made the hottest cleavage. Over that went a black body suit. It had a sheer translucent cutout over my middle to show off those hard-earned abs and the sleeves were the same showing off nicely toned arms (which could carry the keg on one side and my date on the other). It had a scoop neckline that hid the bra but showed off the twins beautifully. Then came the sexiest O'Callaghan Tartan miniskirt probably ever made. It was tight -- really tight. It stretched over my ass like a lovely rolling green hill that went over my hips to a far horizon. Bright red lipstick and a black choker with a shamrock to match the green in the tartan finished the upper works.

Footwear was a pair of stunning four-inch heels with brass buckles across the front. This would be a test to be sure. I loved wearing high heels. They made my legs look amazing and my ass pop. Moreover, I just felt sexy and confident in them. I wore them so much that I could actually move more gracefully in them than flats. I guess it was just the confidence one gets from standing 6'4"/ It also made finding my way in a crowd easier. I was usually the tallest girl in any room anyway -- might as well go with it. The test would be Jason. A stocky 5'7" I sort of towered over him anyway. With heels, I would be a full head taller. I guess we'd see how he'd take it.

As I came down the stairs, it was obvious he was going to take it just fine -- though it did take him a minute to say anything at all. Jason stood at the bottom of the stairs with my leather jacket folded over his arms. He was a pretty basic guy in terms of dress -- dark blue jeans with a Kelly-green polo shirt that stretched a bit across his chest. The cuffs of the short sleeves were tight across his biceps. He looked up at my and I knew I had him in my carefully constructed web.

I did a slow descent down the stairs. My heels were staccato clicks on the hardwood of the steps. Jason watched every step as my hips rolled through each. I sauntered up to him and drew close. I was pretty much a full head taller in these heels. I turned for him to help me with my jacket, brushing against him as I did. He helped me put it on, then I turned back to him and kissed him gently on the lips and said, "You can blink now."

He did and I walked past him to tell my dad that I would be spending the night at Jenny's and would see him and Millie in the morning.

II.

Jason and arrived at the party after a stop at the liquor store. I had driven. Jason got out of the passenger seat and went to the open trunk. He heaved out the full beer keg we'd brought. I grabbed my small backpack and the two bottles of Jameson out of the back seat. Jason was a wrestler and solid muscle -- he was headed to college on a scholarship -- but beer kegs are heavy. He struggled with it but managed okay. I thought I could probably carry the thing with one hand and thought about offering. I decided to not. It was part of the convention that men did heavy lifting and girls walked behind.

Jason carried the keg to the back where it was tapped. He returned with two solo cups of Harp. I'd found glasses and poured us each some of the whiskey. Jason drank some of the whiskey and coughed.

"Take it easy, tiger," I said.

"I've never been much of drinker," Jason explained, "And then mostly beer. This stuff kind of burns."

I nodded, downed my glass, poured another, and smiled at him. He was sort of awed. "I've been drinking whiskey since I was 15," I yelled to him over the music which just go a lot louder. It was what was around the house. "You get used to the burn, but I can get you some ice, if you want," I added.

Jason shook his head. "If you can take it," he took another drink and winced, "I can take it."

I downed all of my second, poured myself another and topped his off, "Just take it easy, tiger," I said leaning into him and whispering into his ear, "I'm going to need you in top form later." I took another drink, then put my glass down. I didn't want him trying to go drink for drink with me. After what happened at Brad's last week, I'd done some experimenting. I had gotten a mild buzz after drinking most of a bottle of this stuff Wednesday night. I'd just don it as an experiment. I woke up Thursday morning -- after sleeping three hours -- feeling fine. I probably could have drunk a novice drinker like Jason under the table a week ago. Since the change, if the poor guy tried to keep up, he'd probably die of alcohol poisoning before I was too drunk to drive.

The party was getting pretty crowded. It seemed like everyone was here.

"Hey, Midge," a voice called from my left. It was Susan Price. She was wearing a somewhat gaudy little green dress complete with giant belt and little leprechaun hat. Of course, she looked adorable. "Have you met my new boyfriend, Rob?" She gestured to the young man on her left. I nodded; he nodded back. "Rob goes to St Benedict's," she said, referencing an all-boy's school across town, "Rob, I would like a beer. Jason, could you show Rob the way?" Jason gave a "come on" wave to Rob, and they went to the back to get refills.

Susan turned to me and said, "Rob is going to Notre Dame in the Fall. He's a really nice guy. He's the editor or their school paper and plays lacrosse."

The guy was basically "Mike at another school", but where was Mike -- our Mike? I had to ask, "Susan, where's Mike?" I knew Mike had come home from the hospital after his, uh, "accident". Yeah, "accident", I thought -- the boy had a collision with Susan's overcharged sex drive and overpowered body.

"I'd rather not talk about it," Susan replied.

I thought for second to let it go. I probably would have let it go when things were normal. But things weren't normal. If something happened -- something related to how we'd changed -- I needed to know. I wanted as much warning as possible about things that I might not see coming. "Susan," I pressed, "What happened? Tell me."

She took my arm and pulled me through the front hallway and outside. "He dumped me, Midge," she said flatly. "I have never been dumped -- ever," Susan sounded like she still didn't believe what had happened.

"There's more to it, isn't there?" I asked her.

She opened up, "Mike got home from the hospital on Thursday. He was still pretty banged up from his, well, 'accident'. I went to see him. He was laying on his bed watching TV. We were alone." She was getting more upset, but continued, "he told me he remembered everything that happened and that he was scared to be alone with me. He said he didn't want to see me anymore." She stopped.

"So that's it?" I asked

She got a look on her face. Like she'd done something awful and had been caught. "No," she said quietly. "I don't know what happened. I kind of snapped, I guess," she explained. She went on, "I really went there because I was, I don't know, like, super-horny." She was a little embarrassed and blushed. "Midge, I just couldn't control myself. I got really mad. I jumped on top of him. He tried to yell, so I clamped my hand over his mouth. He tried to pull my hand away with BOTH of his, but he couldn't. I grabbed his balls and his thing in my other hand. Oh my God, Midge, I said horrible things." She paused, then started back up, "I told him, 'I didn't come here for your weak ass crying. I came here for this'." She made a grabbing gesture with her hand, then continued, "Then I said, 'So you can give it to me, or I can take it. Last time I had to take it from you, I almost killed your weak ass, so maybe you should give it up.' He was scared out of his mind. He stopped struggling. I opened his pants and sucked him until he was hard. Then I rode him. I tried to be more careful -- down there." She pointed to her vagina. She explained, "Last time it clamped so hard, he couldn't cum. This time, I controlled it a little. It wasn't as good, but it was still good. Plus I rode him for a while. He came, like four times. I lost count of my orgasms." She was almost wistful in telling her story of raping Mike. "When I finished," she said, "He was spent and crying. I was still mad. I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him out of bed. I pushed him against the wall and put my hand on his throat. He was choking. I held him there like that for a minute, then let him go." She looked around, and finished, "I told him he was to tell everyone that I dumped him because he was being too forward, and that, if I heard any rumors otherwise, that I would come back and finish choking him."

"Jesus, Susan!" I said.

"So, I'm with Rob now," she said, as though she hadn't just told me about violently raping her ex-boyfriend the day he got home from a hospital stay that she's caused.

"Susan, you raped and brutalized Mike," I told her, " I was incredulous at her indifference, "Do you even get what you've done?"

"I took from him what he should have given me," she said as though that justified her action. "It's his own fault," she added.

"Susan, how fucking entitled are you that you think that?" I was getting pretty upset. I was also really concerned that my own drives were not that far off from Susan's.

"I didn't ask for this to happen, Midge, but it has. Everything was just fine before. And now..." she was getting really mad, "Now all I can think about is sex. I need it all the time. And no one. Not you. Not Mike. Not my pastor or my parents is going to tell me I can't have it."

It hit me as we walked back inside. She was always like this. It was why everything about Susan Price always had to be perfect. She needed to be in control. Perfection was her way of controlling everything. Now she had something she couldn't control -- her own sex drive. So she did the next best thing. She took control of satisfying it by whatever means she could. As I was having that realization, Jason and Rob returned with the beers.

"We're leaving," Susan commanded Rob flatly, "Now." She took his hand and he set the beers down and started to the door.

Oh my God, I thought, Rob has no idea he's on the menu. I had to do something. She was going to rape him and, in all likelihood, hurt him too. I raced over to the door and blocked it.

"Susan, you need to go," I said, "Rob, we'll get you a ride home."

"Get out the way, Midge," Susan said. She was like a lioness protecting a fresh kill, I thought. "I'm not going to ask you again," She added.

"You're not leaving here with him," I told her, "I'm not letting you do to him what you did to Mike."

The last time I was in a fight with a girl it was that attacker from St. Mary's. She was pretty big girl. Not as tall as me, but stockier and more muscular. I was lucky to have gotten my shot in, If I hadn't clocked her, I think I would have been in trouble. Susan was half my size, so I didn't expect what happened next.

She punched in the face.

In all the violence that week, it was the first time I felt like a punch or a ball or whatever was coming at me at full speed. She hit me pretty hard, but not squarely. Still I stumbled backwards. Someone screamed, and then it was chaos.

This big guy -- Owen something or other -- I knew he was a tackle on the football team tried to intervene. He grabbed Susan from behind -- big mistake. She grabbed his hand that he put on her shoulder, twisted his wrist until it snapped. The big guy screamed, then she took his arm and threw him. He landed in a heap against the far wall. Another guy, Derrick, I think -- he wasn't as big as Owen, but still a pretty big dude, tried to come to Owen's aid. Also a mistake. He stepped in front of her and put his hand up. She hit him with a punch to the chest. He flew across the room and landed on top of Owen. A third guy grabbed her from behind and wrapped his arms around her. She brought her arms up and broke his hold so easily that he was stunned. She turned and looked at him for a split second. Then she grabbed him by the throat and threw him to the floor with one hand. He was knocked out cold.

Then she started back at me.

I saw Jason on the other side of the room struggling to get through the crowd. Oh no, I thought, he's trying to protect me. She could have killed him in the state she was in. I had to do something. I gathered myself and step toward her.

Rob now tried to intervene. I didn't want to hurt this guy, but I had to stop Susan before she hurt Jason. I went to push Rob out of the way, but immediately found I didn't have to. He was jerked backwards by the collar and thrown across the floor by the Psycho Death Leprechaun. She wanted a piece of me pretty badly, I gathered.

"Susan," I said trying to deescalate things, "We don't have to do this." I was trying to help her. This wasn't going to be like when she hit me the first time. I knew she was intending violence now and was ready. It was like that attacker from St. Mary's. The difference here was that Susan hadn't succeeded in laying me out with that first punch.

Susan swung at me, but I barely dodged it. Susan was a decent athlete, I was a lot stronger and faster before the change, so it stood to reason I still would be. She swung again, her momentum carried her past me, and I saw my chance to end this as nonviolently as I could. I grabbed her head and locked her in a sleeper hold. She bent forward trying to bring me off my feet, but fortunately I was tall enough to prevent that. Then she stumbled forward to the wall. She put her feet against it and launched us both backward. We rammed some guy as the moron was coming to "help" after seeing three other guys getting tossed around like rag dolls. Susan has launched us with enough force, that I'm sure the dumb bastard got some broken ribs out of the collision. Susan bent forward again and threw us both to the floor. I had the wind knock out of me but held my hold. I wrapped my legs around her, but she kept fighting. I'd put out Jim out in a few seconds, but Susan kicked and fought a lot harder. After what seemed like forever, her struggling stopped and she was out.