The story of Peter 




Peter's story (not Oliver's story!!) till the events narrated in this story
fitted the stereotype of a typical Harvard Jock not in the sense that he was
an athlete or interested in sports but in the fact that he was really
ambitious and had an MBA from a reputed university.

He was well read and was a typical management graduate and enjoyed his so
called intellectual dominance (due to his ability to solve puzzles etc)

On the credentials of his academic career (though not brilliant, he strove
hard to improve himself intellectually) and his family background, he had just
gotten a wonderful job (at least considered so in his circles) with a merchant
banking company

This was not all. It so happened that he was in love with a beautiful girl
(not a fisherwoman or not yet anyway!!). The one small fly in the ointment was
the small but significant fact that she did not reciprocate his love in spite
of all his stratagems. He was very courteous. He quoted wonderful verses from
the classics, he gave her flowers. He took her to art galleries, museums,
music concerts. But one day out of the blue she said "Look, Peter, you have
been really wonderful to me but if you think I am in love with you or you can
make fall in love with you in the course of time, forget about it. We can
still be friends of course, that is if you are interested". It could have not
been worse if she had slapped him in the face. Of course he agreed but he had
a hurt and puzzled look on his face as he left her. He resolved to keep tabs
on her movements and to this end, he went to the extent of hiring a detective.

What actually puzzled and even hurt him was the fact that she did not seem to
be going around with anyone.

From the detective's accounts of her daily activities, he decided to actually
follow her himself. What he found surprised him. She was dressed in a blue
dress that could barely be called a mini-skirt which exposed while still
leaving something to the imagination ("Having the cake and eating it too"
!!:-) ) . This was the first time that he had seen her legs and they were
wonderful. He suddenly stood agape at what he saw next. She was greeted by a
group of women (mixed race) who were dressed in the manner of fishwives /
prostitutes (madams and / or the more aggressive type) and behaved in the same
rough and ready manner. Most of them were old enough to be both their mothers
and some were even older. Through his binoculars (which had zoom lenses), he
could see that most of their hands were calloused and bore the mark of hard
manual labor). There was a veritable explosion of highly muscled and strong
and yet supremely feminine and curvaceous and voluptuous thighs, ass and legs
out of their dresses which barely reached up to their waists if at all. Their
facial features and in fact their entire body (except their chest) bore the
scars of battle. This strange mixture of vulnerability and strength and the
rough and the smooth surprisingly had the effect of exciting him in a manner
that he found really difficult to explain.

He enquired of the security guards as to the nature of the group. They said
that these women exercised in each others company. One guard was even blunter
when he said that these women came here to fight with one another (boxing /
wrestling / other martial arts). He said that they also played some real rough
games of soccer / rugby at times to limber them up). He added that they to his
knowledge, they came from assorted professions which did not fit the
stereotype such as circus women, Firewomen, rugby players, wrestlers, boxers,
stunt-women, ex-criminals, cops , matadors, truck drivers, cow-girls,
fishwives and charwomen etc. He also reluctantly added that most of these
sessions ended up in love making.

He was so shocked that he decided to "rescue" his "girlfriend".

He suddenly went into the crowd and held her hand and tried to forcibly take
her away from her colleagues.

Taken aback, she cried out "What the hell. Peter ? How dare you come here to
spy on me ? Let go of my hand this instance" When he refused adamantly and
silently, she slapped him.

He was so incensed by this unexpected resistance that he yanked her arm and
really hurt her.

One of the amazons standing nearby intervened. "Pretty boy, aint you the
parfait knight ?" and pinched his cheek. He hit her hard in the stomach and
hit her in the jaw with all her force. He could see blood coming out of her
mouth. She just laughed a laugh which sent a chill up his spine but also
strangely excited him. She lifted him and put him over her lap with ease and
silently started picking at the fiber of his trousers all the time ignoring
his blows. She so taunted him that he took his gun and shot her at close
quarters. She very deftly for her size, easily dodged the first few bullets,
took a couple in her teeth and another in the fleshy part of her thigh. But
she still continued picking on the fiber of his trousers. The other women
wanted to help her but she said she could handle this little punk alone. At
the end of what seemed an eternity to him but was an hour and a half, she had
succeeded in unraveling his trousers and then his underwear completely. She
bound him with part of the fiber and with the remaining, she made a
turban-like wedgie over his head.

As if this was not bad enough, she poured some glue like sticky substance on
the fibers and then applied pressure at both ends and then lifted the ends of
the fiber (which was rope like in manner) in a twisting / twirling / lassoing
motion till he was as bald as an eagle.

But she had a wicked sense of humor. She seemed to have heard of the legend of
Krishna, the India god and his treatment of rukmi who had forcibly tried to
prevent the marriage of his sister to Krishna. Actually, she had a feeling
that this Krishna was actually a woman and in fact the marriage was a lesbian
marriage between women.

So to affect a similar result, she shaved off his mustache and painted half of
his shaved head black as also half of his upper lip giving him a really
grotesque and ugly look. She went on to inscribe "666" on the bare portion of
his scalp to denote the sign of the devil.

The other women were torn between feelings of anger and vindication against
him mixed with one of ridicule and strangely pity.

Peter's friend was shocked at what had happened and felt guilt at what had
happened. But surprisingly Peter (who could not help feeling a sexual high
though he was crestfallen and dejected) hugged her and his tormentor and
touched them tenderly. Amidst tears, they proceeded to color his face and body
with tattoos and dots of all colors which seemed indelible and all of them
collapsed after this orgy (one lady surgeon with the help of a laser succeeded
in extracting the bullet through her thigh) after mutual hugs, embraces and
tears.

AFTERMATH

Peter left his job. Practicing with the women , filming and arranging matches
for them both with men and women and teaching them whatever he knew about his
other interests (mathematics mostly applied), Peter found his calling and also
went on to become an Applied mathematician in all senses of the term. It so
happened that his friend who was an Applied Mathematician got a job in
Merchant Banking but that is another story.