Snap! Tim's arm broke. He screamed while Pete and his friends laughed their asses off. "What's the matter, you piece of shit? Can't even wipe your own ass any more, huh, bitch?" Pete stood up and kicked Tim in the arm once and then in the ribs. He stooped down and threw a fist to his face repeatedly, until Tim's screaming stopped.
"That's what happens when you don't do what the fuck you are told!" Pete screamed at his victim. Looking through his book bag, he finally dumped it out and grabbed Tim's cell phone. Putting it into his pocket, he spat on Tim.
"I don't want you going and calling anyone over this. Keep your fucking mouth shut and I might take it easier on you next time." One of Pete's accomplices asked how Tim would get help. "Why the fuck do I care? Let him work it out himself...without my new phone." They all laughed and left Tim breathing in his own blood. He would remain there for six more hours until finally being discovered and rushed to the hospital.
Olivia Redmon had been working late when she got the call about her son. The attractive mother of 36 ran to her car, crying and wishing she hadn't worked late. If she hadn't, somehow, she could have stopped her son from being attacked. All she would have missed at work was an hour of not having her ass, tits, and legs ogled by the pigs in her meeting; she always faced this problem though.
Dark brunette hair cascading down just below her shoulders and framing a delicate, yet determined, face accented bright and piercing green eyes. Her 36C breasts were in almost perfect proportion to her hips and she worked out daily -- a habit that she wished her son would have picked up -- to create a musculature that tightened the parts that needed tightening and rounded the areas that needed rounding out.
It was more than one man who wished to not only be between her muscular legs but somehow knowing that she could kill him by just squeezing them tight enough around their waist.
Olivia's husband, Jim, was waiting at the hospital when she ran into the emergency room. Just like his son, he was not a big exercise nut, but with the work he did in computer technology, he was much more of a financial success and besides - Olivia loved him.
What she had problems with was the weakness that her son showed in character as well as physically. Never having a stomach for sniveling cowardice, she had to suppress a rage -- an anger at her son -- she knew didn't belong to a mother, who should be protective of her son.
She didn't want to be a protector to him, she wanted him to stand up for himself and have some pride. However, since her son has been bullied for the past four years, nearly non-stop, she has had to learn to repress the revulsion created by his flaws.
As she stood looking at her bloodied and broken son, she felt conflicted. The pain she felt for him, did exist...it was real. Unfortunately, though, she spent the formative years of her life dating the bully.
Turned on by the power they held and the pain they inflicted, she would find herself egging them on. She was always promising access to her sweet treasures if they would act out for her...act out on her wishes.
Maturity started to wane that desire she had to see her bully boyfriends at work. Eventually, she looked to men for different reasons as she saw that intelligence could get one further in society than muscle could. It still didn't cancel her fervent wish that Tim would defend himself...or at least do something to stop the abuse.
...to be continued!