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Cancer, The Crab: Massage Therapist, San Antonio: Candice

I blocked it. I was furious. She tried again, this time I caught her wrist. "You arrogant, presumptuous, little bitch! Who do you think you are?" I pushed her away, and walked around my desk. Laura closed the door.

"You're going to get it know," she sneered. "First, I'm going to kick your skinny, old ass, and then I'm going to have you fired."

She stood, arms akimbo, glaring at me, her face seething with hatred and anger. Laura wore low-slung, skin-tight, black pleather pants that only just made it to her hips. Her red bikini showed above what passed for a waistband. On top she wore a leopard patterned bustier. "Was she a student or a prostitute in training," I wondered.

"Missy, you'd best eat some crow right now, or you're going to be in for it," I warned her.

"The only eating around here is going to be you eating my pussy after I kick your ass."

"Have it your way," I said. I kicked of my sandals and removed my blouse. Sliding out my skirt, I placed everything on my chair. After adjusting my lavender bra and panties I walked forward.

Laura kicked off her shoes and lunged at me, arms outstretched. Her inexperience and arrogance would be her downfall, but not before I put her in her place.

Grabbing her wrists, I drove my right knee into her stomach, drawing an "oof" from her surprised face. I followed it up with another knee, leaving her doubled over, with knees bent. Holding onto Laura's left wrist, I walked around and twisted it behind her back in an arm lock. Cocking my arm, and gave her barely pleather-clad ass a smack that echoed. This was far too easy and too much fun. Laura was proving to be a superb tension release.

Wrapping my right arm around her neck while still driving her left arms upward, I whispered in Laura's ear, "Are you surprised? I'm only just starting. When I finish with you, you're going to beg me for mercy. If I like you, I'm going to make you my girl. But not before I have some fun." I released Laura, shoving her away from me. "Come on, show me what you've got, missy!" I demanded.

Much more cautious she approached me slowly. Maybe she wasn't nearly as dull as I'd thought. We came together in a bearhug. Her arms were strong, but she was inexperienced. That only catfighting Laura had done was with some sorority girls, and she'd probably cowed them pretty easily. My own experience went back to junior high, but more on that much, much later.

Squeezing, I felt the heat rising from her bustier, mixing with her perfume. The feel of it against my breasts and belly wasn't half bad. The brush of Laura's outer pleather skin against my satin panties tingled. As if by agreement, we released one another. We were both breathing hard. Laura was perspiring rather freely; she unbuttoned and slid out of pants. She did the same with her bustier and stood before me in a red thong, breasts free. The must've been B cups, maybe 34s or 36s.

We circled. I feinted with a left-handed slap that caused Laura to duck to her left. Driving in, I wrapped my arms around Laura's head and threw her to the ground. I grabbed her blonde hair and wrapped my legs around her middle. "Time for a scissor," I thought. Laura cried out in anguish as my legs tightened. Beating and slapping my thighs, she cried out "Let me go, let me go!"

"Not yet," I said as menacingly as I could. "There's so much more I want to do, so much more you need to learn, Laura." As much as this spoiled, arrogant child of privilege angered me, there was something about her I liked--besides beating her ass into the ground.

I gave her middle a couple of good hard squeezes, making her cry out again. Laura was weeping. Nobody had ever treated like this. "It's about time somebody did," I thought.

Releasing my hold I finished her off.

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