The plough girl - part seven 
By Diana the Valkyrie 
Olga and the wife beater

Mike

Olga got back to the apartment, and she was clearly upset. "What's
up?"  I asked. "Gary and I got attacked by six guys, and I had to
take him to hospital to get stitches."

I knew that she had been seeing Gary. At first, it was because
she felt guilty, but then she'd developed a genuine affection for
him. That's Olga for you, she's never met a man she didn't like. Then
I thought, wait, what? Six guys? I asked her about that.

"Yes," she said, "but one of them ran away when he saw what happened
to the other five." I guessed that the other five had found out that
you don't mess with plough girls. "I found out from one of them, who
was behind the attack. A guy called Flascetto." "The thug told you?"
"I had to encourage him a bit." I tried not to imagine how she had
persuaded him.

"You've got Trouble," I said, "this isn't over." "Yes, I guessed
that.  What do you think I should do?"

"Well," I said, "you killed fourteen Russians ...". "That's
different," she said, "that was war, and they attacked us." "I think
you'll find that this is also war," I said, "and they'll keep on
attacking you until they're stopped."

"Should I go to the police?" she asked. I snorted. "I can't see that
doing much good. No, to kill a snake, you cut off its head. Take
your count up to fifteen." She wrinkled her nose. "I thought I'd
got away from that sort of thing."

"He isn't going to stop until he stops you or you stop him,"
I explained.  "Yes, I see that, but this isn't going to be easy
like the Russian soldiers were."

Olga

Mike had me worried now. And not just for me - I was worried about
Gary, and Mike, and Jim, and all the other lovely guys I've been
seeing. But, tomorrow is another day. We'd sleep on it, and maybe
come up with a plan tomorrow. Tonight, I gave him my usual blast
of sex, and as he fell asleep, I put my arms round him, so he'd
feel safe.

Next morning, I felt a lot more cheerful - but still had no idea
what to do about Flascetto. Getting close to him would be really
difficult, he would be surrounded by his thugs. Plus, I really
didn't want to up my total to fifteen. It was OK in Novovysoke,
that was war, and people are expected to die in war, but if I killed
this guy, it would be seen as murder. So - what to do?

Maybe Gary would have some ideas. Or Jim. This was their country,
they'd be more familiar with the culture and customs.

Gary wasn't much help. "I was in the military, that's how I spotted
the ambush. So, what would we do about this? We'd drop a killjoy
missile on their ass, then stroll in to mop up the blood." "Not
helping, Gary."  "No, I know. If only we had a killjoy to fire at
him." I sighed.

Jim had no ideas either. "Maybe you could talk to him? Maybe if you
apologised?" "I think it's gone beyond that, Jim. Their plan was to
"fuck me up", and they didn't mean "Have sex with me". "Sorry,"
said Jim, this isn't bouncer territory." I grimaced. "Speaking
of which, we've hired another plough girl, her name is Anastasia,
we call her Anna."  "That's nice," I replied, "I'll drop by some
time to meet up with her."  "I'll make sure there's plenty of cake,"
Jim grinned.

So then I went to the Golden Shower (and yes, I now knew why they
called it that) to do my shift. About an hour in, Tammy beckoned
me over. "Who is it?" I asked. "It's not for me, it's for Dawn,
she wants to talk to you." "Toilets, 20 past eleven," I suggested,
and Tammy hurried off to tell Dawn.

"So what's up, Dawn," I asked when we met. She rolled up her sleeve,
and showed me her bruises. "A customer did that? I asked. "No," she
mumbled, "husband." And then she showed me her legs - even worse.
"You need to dump him," I advised. It didn't take a genius to figure
that out. "I can't," she replied. "Of course you can, just pack a bag
and walk out." "I can't," she repeated, "because of Star." "Star?"
"My baby. And his baby. Our baby. If I walked out, I'd lose any
custody battle."

Now I could see the problem. She couldn't leave, she couldn't stay.
She must be at her wits end. "He needs to stop beating you, as a
minimum," I said, "Someone has to explain this to him. Would you
like me to talk to him?" "Please," she said. "I'm scared to go home
each day."

I took her address, and told her I'd visit as soon as my shift was
done.  Until then, I had my job to do. I patrolled round the tables -
people looked at me and whispered. Apparently, I was the girl who had
humiliated the big bad trouser-king. Apparently, I was for the chop.

Sure enough, the manager called me into his office. "Mr Flascetto
wants me to let you go," he said, bluntly. "And ...?" I asked.
"Here's the thing. If I sack you for correctly doing your job, you
could sue the casino for millions, and that would lose me my job.
So, as I see it, either we both get fired, or we both stay."
"I'm happy here," I said, "I'd like to stay. Also, if things go
well, Mr Flascetto isn't going to be throwing his weight around for
much longer."  And I told him about the attack on me and Gary. "Are
you OK?" "I'm fine, Gary needed a few stitches in his scalp to stop
the bleeding. But it isn't going to end there."

"What are you going to do?" he asked. The truth was, I didn't have
a plan yet. But he didn't need to know that, so I winked, tapped
my nose with my finger and grinned, "Better you don't know." "Well,
after seeing how you handled Gary, and then you put five guys down,
I suppose you should be able to take care of the trash." And he
winked back. So that was sorted. "Oh," I said, " and please don't
fire Tammy." "I wasn't going to, she didn't do anything wrong."

I told Tammy the good news before I went off shift, then hurried
home to bring Mike up to date. "A killjoy missile?" he asked. "It's
something they use in the military." "Anastasia?" he asked. "She's
the new bouncette at the KittyKat." "Yes, said Mike, "and she's
also your killjoy missile."





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