Natalia and Mark, Part 2
By Eric Robert, EricRRobert@hotmail.com
Mark learns a little more about Natalia's adolescence


Author's note: After the first installment of this story, several members at
http://www.malevsfemale.org/ commented that they wanted a story about how
Natalia became Natalia. So, here it is. If you want to help shape the next
installment, drop me an e-mail.

Mark's eyes flew open. He looked up at the clock: 3:00 a.m. This was getting
ridiculous; he hadn't slept through the night in three days. He couldn't stop
thinking about last week.

Natalia had given his number the day before Thanksgiving. He'd spent the next
day with his family, his mind a million miles away as he picked at his dinner,
unable to get that image of her beautiful brown eyes out of his mind, her
dominant smirk as she toyed with him, his head caught between her taut thighs,
her hands running through his hair, the knowledge that her sense of mercy, or
maybe just her politeness to Kathy, had been the only thing standing between
him and total oblivion. It was deeply unsettling, and yet all day he found
himself stiffening in his pants every time the thought flitted through his
mind.

The next day, he'd sat staring at the phone in his hand for half an hour
before he finally took a deep breath and dialed her number. He'd asked her, as
casually as he could, if that offer for coffee still stood. She'd said
absolutely, but she was slammed with family stuff this weekend ' could he do
it next weekend? Mark had felt his stomach sink; next weekend, he'd be back in
Pasadena. But unable to accept that the date wasn't going to happen, he'd told
her he'd check his calendar and get back to her.

He'd returned back to school on Monday and quickly set about doing his best to
forget about her. He'd invited one of his "friends" over that night, this cute
blonde chick from his anthropology class, but as he leaned in to start making
out with her, it just felt somehow wrong. He'd had to claim a sudden
stomachache, apologized to the girl, and asked her for a rain check. And then
he'd gone straight to the bathroom and pleasured himself to the memory of
Natalia's inescapable pin, that unconquerable body, those deep, hypnotic brown
eyes.

So here he was, awake on Wednesday night ' or technically Thursday morning '
at fucking 3:00 a.m., after two more days of that bullshit, barely able to
even remember a word any of his professors had said over the last three days.
This was ridiculous; he was a nervous wreck. He had to see her. Moving $350
over from his savings account, he booked a flight home to Phoenix for the
weekend and sent Natalia a text: turns out his calendar was clear.

The rest of the week had flown by in a blur. The ignored invitations to
parties, the test he totally botched, the cab to the airport, the captain's
terrible jokes. And now here he was, sitting at a table at Emerson's, checking
the time on his phone every thirty seconds. 8:02. Fuck. She was late. She
probably wasn't even coming. She was playing him for an idiot. She walked in
through the door.

Mark took a sharp involuntary breath and held it, feeling his face tingle with
nervousness and anticipation. Natalia was wearing a tight, form-fitting light
green dress that clung to her every curve, traced the lines of her beautiful
breasts, and barely came up to the middle of her thighs. She completed the
ensemble with a simple silver choker and, inexplicably, black Converse
sneakers. Most women would have called them a disastrous clash, but on her,
they just looked so damn sexy, the way her dress screamed pure femininity but
her sneakers stubbornly advertised her athleticism. She saw him at his table
immediately, smiled and waved, and sat down across from him.

"I was starting to wonder if you'd come," he said with a smile.

"And why would a girl stand you up?" she smiled back.

Mark spread his hands out in front of him. "Well, I've never really had a
thing start like this before. I really haven't been able to get it out of my
head."

"I haven't really been able to get it out of my head, either," she said with a
look on her face that Mark couldn't quite decipher.

He paused. "Well, can I get you a glass of wine, then?"

"Oh, I don't drink. You don't get a body like this drinking alcohol," she
smirked.

"Oh, okay," Mark said, a little disappointed, but not wanting to start things
off on the wrong foot. "I don't really drink that much either. So, well...
fuck, Natalia, how did you get that strong?"

Natalia smiled. "I exercise a lot," she answered. She playfully flexed her
arm, and Mark's pupils dilated at the sight of her peaked, feminine bicep
rising up from her smooth skin.

"Yeah, well, I exercise a lot, too," he protested. "And you kinda, you know,
um, when we wrestled, you.."

"Completely owned your ass from start to finish?" she winked at him.

"Something like that," Mark laughed sheepishly. "I mean, do you do that
often?" Mark frowned a little, hearing those words come out of his mouth. "It
just didn't seem like that was your first rodeo."

Natalia's eyes narrowed. She didn't answer. She just sat there looking at him
across the table for a long, excruciating moment. Then she said, "You know,
maybe I will have a drink tonight." She suddenly seemed uncomfortable. Mark
cringed. He'd never seen anything but perfect confidence exuding from her.

She beckoned the waitress over. "Can I get a glass of wine?" she asked.

"Sure," the waitress said, "do you want the house red or the white?"

"Just which ever one of those is stronger," Natalia answered. It occurred to
Mark that she hadn't been lying about being a teetotaler.

The waitress raised her eyebrows at the strange answer, but politely said,
"Red it is." Mark ordered a beer.

For the next half hour, Mark forced himself to make small talk with her as
they sipped on their glasses, finished them, ordered refills. They talked
about their Thanksgivings, their schedules, their classload. Mark couldn't
stop thinking about those tight, muscular thighs underneath the table, or
staring at the musculature of her deceptively powerful arms. He wondered wryly
if she was going to say "My eyes are over here."

By the time he started to feel the first buzz of the beer, he was pretty sure
they'd struck up a comfortable rapport. Steeling himself, he decided to try
again. He had to ask her about the wrestling ' about how she'd been able to
beat him, a much larger guy, while taunting him and barely breaking a sweat.
He was obsessed.

"So how did you get into this wrestling thing? I'm really curious," he said.

"Well, I have two brothers," Natalia said. "I guess it's a clich', huh? Tough
chick with brothers?"

"Lots of girls have brothers," Mark observed. "So, they, what, taught you how
to wrestle?"

"Not exactly," she said. "Just... ever since I was a little girl, I used to
pick on my little brother Tommy mercilessly. I'd pin him down and sit on his
chest and make him promise to do my chores and not to tell Dad. I guess I
loved knowing I was the one in charge. I guess I got used to it." She suddenly
laughed. "Why am I telling you this? I must sound like such a fucking bitch."
Looking at the glass of wine in her hand, she added, "Maybe I should have
ordered the white."

Mark laughed. "Well, what about your older brother? Surely you didn't pick on
him?"

"Nooo, no, no," said Natalia. My older brother ' well, you probably know who
he is. My brother is Ethan Christensen.

Mark knew him very well indeed. Ethan had been a year ahead of him in high
school. He was the school's star linebacker ' the quarterback was barely
sacked once the entire season. Ethan had been signed to Arizona State, and
then two years later, his game had just started falling apart on the field.
Then there had been a few public drunken embarrassments that made the papers,
Ethan had lost his scholarship, and no one had heard from him since.

"No shit, your brother is Ethan?" Mark asked. "I never knew. You don't have
the same last name."

"Well, he's my half brother. You know, divorce," Natalia, said, waving her
hand up in the air like there wasn't much more to say on that subject.

"Well, yeah, I guess you didn't pick on Ethan, then," Mark laughed.

"No," she said unusually flatly, falling silent. She hesitated a moment,
apparently unsure whether to continue the story, but perhaps it was the wine
that inspired her to add, "No, Ethan caught wind of the way I was bullying
Tommy when I was 14 and he was 18, and he didn't like it one bit. He worked
himself into a rage and pinned me down and slapped me around and asked how it
felt. Then he put me over his knee and started spanking me."

"Jesus," Mark said.

"I hated it, Mark," she said insistently. "I remember being bent over his
knee, his hand just fucking crushing against my butt, a tear rolling down my
face, just thinking, Goddamn it Ethan, one day I am going to fucking do this
right back to you. I'm going to spank you until you beg your little sister for
the fucking *privilege* of doing whatever she tells you."

"I'm guessing that didn't happen," Mark laughed uneasily.

"Not for years," she said.

Mark's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, not for -" he started.

"I really don't want to talk about it." Natalia interjected abruptly,
finishing the rest of her glass in a single gulp and waving the waitress over.

Mark just sat there fidgeting uncomfortably as the waitress handed her a fresh
glass, not sure how to continue, not sure whether he could change the subject.
Natalia took a deep swig. And then, mercifully, she started talking again.

"After Ethan did that to me, I became obsessed with exercise," she continued.
I'd get up at five every single morning and work out for two hours before
school. I'd do pushup after pushup just thinking about kicking Ethan's sorry
ass. I'd sneak into the garage and slam my fists against his heavy bag even
though I had no idea how to throw a punch back then. I'd practically sprint
around the block over and over for half an hour because I didn't have time for
distance running before school. So, by the time I was fifteen, well, I guess
you know all about that, don't you."

Mark nodded. She'd been fifteen when she'd humiliated his friend Bruce in an
exercise contest, causing Mark to develop a grudge against her that hadn't
ended until, well, until she'd beat it right out of him last week.

"Yeah, I remember," said Mark. "But doing more push-ups than Bruce is one
thing... beating Ethan Christensen in a fight is just -"

"Yep." interrupted Natalia. "Yeah, I was feeling invincible after that. So
invincible that I picked another fight with Ethan. He hit me so hard he
cracked my left molar." She absently rubbed her cheek as she talked.

"Damn, I'm sorry," Mark said sympathetically.

"So the very next day after that, I've got this black eye, and, well, you know
the MMA place on North 32nd with the trailer outside that says 'Wanna Fight'?"

Mark nodded. He'd driven by it.

"I rode my bike up there after school and told the owner I wanted to train,
and I didn't have any money, but I could stay and clean the place after
classes, or anything he needed. And he told me to get the fuck out. He didn't
want some little 15 year old girl training at his gym without paying him or
even having her parents know about it. So I came back the next day, and the
next, and finally he asked this guy Randy to spar with me."

"So he agreed to let you train?"

"Nope. I didn't know it at the time, but Randy was one of his best students,
and he told him to put the hurt on me. Not so bad my dad would sue, but so bad
I wouldn't come back. Randy was two years older than me and taller and heavier
and he'd been training for a pretty long time."

"Damn, what an asshole!" Mark exclaimed.

"So I squared off against Randy, and I just charged him like a wild fucking
animal, threw my arms around his waist, and I had so much adrenaline I
actually took him down hard. Just scooped him off the ground and threw him on
his butt. There were like six people watching and they were gasping and
laughing like they couldn't believe it. But Randy flipped me over pretty
easily, and grabbed my arm, and slammed his leg down on my face, and put me in
this armbar, and I started screaming for him to stop because it was so
painful. And I think the owner thought that was it for me. But I jumped up and
I was yelling 'Best two out of three! Come on! I can take him!'"

"You just wouldn't give up," Mark laughed.

"One thing you're going to learn about me is I never give up," Natalia smiled
back at him. "So we go for fall two, and I attack him the same way, but this
time he's ready and he gets me in a triangle choke -"

"A triangle choke?"

"Where you wrap your legs around someone's neck a certain way. I didn't know
what it was then. I just knew it fucking hurt. So I started yelling stop
again, and I got up, and I'm sure the owner expected me to run out crying, but
I was just like 'Come on! Three out of five!'"

Mark laughed incredulously.

"I was a lot more cautious on the third fall, and it went on for a really long
time. I just focused on not letting him get another painful hold on him, and
tried to keep getting away from him, and I was doing a damn good job of it,
too, but even though it took a really long time, he got me. By the end he was
breathing really hard and he was all sweaty, but I was just screaming that I
wanted four out of seven."

"I guess after all those months of exercise it's no wonder you were still
fresh," Mark observed.

"Exactly. And the owner was like, 'No, come on, you lost, girl,' but I kept
yelling to give me just one more fall, and finally he gave in. And this time
Randy was just not moving as fast, wasn't as strong, and this time, when he
got me on my back, I remembered the triangle choke he'd done to me, and I
wrapped my legs around his neck, and his face turned bright red. And he was
still struggling, like just refusing to give up, because he couldn't believe a
little 110 pound girl could possibly beat him. Like his brain wouldn't accept
that it could happen, so it wasn't. And the owner yelled stop but I wanted to
hear it from Randy. I just kept squeezing and squeezing and his face got
redder and redder and then he just went limp between my legs, and, Jesus
Christ, Mark, I've never even told anyone this before -"

"It's okay," said Mark eagerly.

Natalia hesitated, embarrassed, and said "I came."

"You came??"

She laughed, a kind of sad laugh. "I had the first fucking orgasm of my life.
I always think to myself that I lost my virginity to that guy's chin. When the
light started going out of his eyes, Jesus Christ, Mark, it was so fucking
hot. I don't know if anyone noticed, maybe they just thought it was the
exertion of it all, but I had to bite my lip to stop myself from screaming."

Mark just sat there stupefied for a minute. Natalia gave that sad laugh again,
but the smile slowly faded from her face. "Hey, Mark, I could use some air. Do
you want to take a little walk?"

"Yeah, sure, it's a pretty nice night, I could walk."

They paid the tab and stepped outside into the cool Phoenix autumn evening.
Natalia looked perplexingly depressed. She was noticeably unsteady on her feet
' apparently, three glasses of wine was a whole lot to a novice drinker like
her. Mark started to put his arm around her taut waist, and then withdrew it.
It didn't feel quite right. They walked in silence for a block and a half.

Finally, Natalia spoke. "Did Bruce ever tell you I asked him out?" she asked.

"Really?" Mark asked, incredulous. "When did you ask him out?"

"Three days after our contest," she said. "I couldn't get the look on his face
out of my head. He was almost crying, like I had just totally owned him. Every
time I thought about it, it made me wet. And that made me want to see him
again. So I worked myself up for so long to talk to him again, and I asked him
if he wanted to go to a movie with me, and he told me to go fuck myself."
Natalia was looking increasingly sad. The wine was getting the better of her.

"I'm sorry, Natalia," Mark said sympathetically.

"You weren't sorry then," she said bitterly. "You went around telling everyone
I was a bitch, and your friends wouldn't talk to me either."

"Natalia, I just -" Mark said defensively, and then considered. "Okay, you
know what. I was an asshole. I'm sorry."

"It's just, I have this fucking fetish, Mark," she continued miserably. "And
it just ruins my life. Do you know I've never had a boyfriend? Because I don't
get turned on unless I've just totally fucking conquered a guy. Just totally
made him my bitch. And then no one ever wants to be with me. Every guy wants
me for my body and no guy in the world wants me for who I am. I'm never going
to get to be someone's girlfriend."

A sob came over her and she started babbling, the words drunkenly tumbling out
of her mouth. "And I ruined my brother's whole career, Mark. After I finally
gave him that spanking that I had worked so hard to give him, and made him cry
and beg me for mercy, and knocked him out twice between my legs, and the whole
time I'm getting all completely fucking horny spanking my own goddamn
half-brother, after that he played like a scared little kid on the field, and
he started drinking, and -" tears started flowing down her beautiful cheeks "-
God, I've fucking ruined everything, haven't I, Mark. No one is ever going to
want -"

Mark grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her hard. After a moment, she
kissed him back eagerly. They stood there on the corner for quite some time.