Bolstered by your friends cheering you on and your own male ego getting the better of you, you decide it's time to take a stand.
“You’re gonna regret this Julia. When I’m done with you, you’ll never be the same.” You take up an awkward fighting stance. You’ve never actually been in a fight before so you just do what feels normal.
Julia on the other hand is bouncing on the balls of her feet, her fists covering her jaw, and her elbows protecting her ribs. She looks like Mike Tyson! You immediately begin to feel your confidence go and decide to act before you turn craven again.
Julia sees your sloppy haymaker coming from a mile away fires a laser-sharp jab into your nose and darts out of range. Your eyes begin to water from the shot to the nose but your blood boils as well. You walk flat-footed towards her as she continues to bob and weave. This time you fake another haymaker but halfway through you shoot for her legs, planning to take her down and dismantle her on the ground.
Again she’s too fast and too skilled for you, Julia darts away and as you are already mid-lunge she fires a brutal kick right into your face. The instep of her foot catches you right on the jaw and you crumble to the pavement.
“Oh shit!”
“You got knocked the fuck out!”
“Ben’s getting his ass kicked by a chick!”
These comments barely register in your brain as you try to regain your senses. Before you can even think about standing up, Julia is on you. She straddles your upper chest and begins firing punishing blows into your face. Her accuracy is pinpoint and she is aiming for the spots that will show the most damage. She wants to make sure when you leave here that you have a busted nose, lips, and two black eyes to show for it. After the fifth shot, you can’t take anymore.
“Please! Stop!”
You cry out, not caring that your friends are literally on the ground laughing. Julia’s hand remains poised in the air above you and you stare at it wide-eyed with fear.
“Do you give up?” She asks menacingly.
“Yes! Please don’t hurt me anymore!” You whine pathetically. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that the fight has attracted a lot of attention, some fifty people must be staring at the spectacle or recording it on their phones.
She laughs at you before she speaks. “Tell me you’re my bitch. Make sure everyone can hear it. Nice and loud bitch boy!”
“I’m your bitch! You win! I’m sorry!” You cry out and hear a chorus of laughter behind you.
“Good bitch.” She says as she climbs off of you and stands over you. “But we need a physical display for all these nice people. Hmmmm...what to do?”
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