Bad Luck Ben: Episode I: Beach Day
By Littlesilverstar, silverstar222b@yahoo.com
My encounter with a bikini girl doesn't go as expected

After a particularly busy and stressful week at my job (short-order cook at
Al's Diner), I was glad to have a day off. Since it was such a nice day, I
decided to grab a couple of crime novels and head for the beach, lie in the
sand and read, maybe go for a little dip in the ocean later. I had no idea
of the physical and psychological shock that would be in store for me that
day.

I suppose I should tell you a little about myself here. My name is Ben, 
and I'm 29 years old and single. I've got a crummy job, a crummy apartment,
and a crummy car, and most women would probably consider me a loser. I do
take some pride in the fact that I don't live in my mom's basement like 
some guys I know. I don't go out on dates very much. Even when I do, they
don't end up working out very well. In fact, I'm still a virgin. That's probably 
worse than living in my mom's basement, but at least I don't have both traits.

Anyway, I had been at the beach for a couple of hours, enjoying the sun and
the breeze. I had gotten most of the way through my first novel when I
noticed three very pretty girls in bikinis sauntering down the sand,
accompanied by three guys who were probably their boyfriends. They all 
looked like a bunch of college kids. They went over to one of the 
volleyball nets and began an enthusiastic game, with a lot of shouting and
giggling.

One of the girls in particular caught my attention. Although all three
women were clearly very fit, she stood out even among them, with her long,
muscular legs, six-pack abs, and toned arms with well-defined biceps. She
could have easily been one of those female fitness competitors I saw on
ESPN sometimes - powerfully muscled, but still distinctly feminine. She
had long dark brown hair and a deep tan, and she was wearing a skimpy black
bikini.

It was what the girl did next, however, that aroused me the most. As I
watched, she tossed the ball into the air, then performed an amazing-
looking standing back flip. As she flipped, her foot impacted the ball in
a powerful kick, sending it over the net for a perfect serve. She landed
neatly on her feet and her friends cheered. As for me, I was staring at 
her with my mouth wide open.

Some guys have foot fetishes. Other guys want women to pee on them. Still
other guys find pregnant women attractive. My particular fetish - one of them,
anyway - is women who can do gymnastic flips. Although I've thought about it a 
lot, I still can't fully explain the reasoning behind it, although the sheer strength 
and athleticism involved certainly must be a factor, along with the fact that I
could never do moves like that.

Well, after that amazing move, my eyes were firmly locked on the girl in
the black bikini, the novels forgotten for the moment. Over the course of
the game, she did the backflip kick serve a couple more times, and each 
time my jaw dropped. In between the flips, the sight of three sexy young
ladies in bikinis, running and jumping around, provided wonderful 
entertainment.

I thought about going over and talking to her, but decided against it.
After all, what would I say? Plus, if one of those guys that was with her
happened to be her boyfriend, he probably wouldn't be too happy about my
butting in.

When they were done with their game, the girl and her friends headed off
down the beach. I went back to my crime novel, although I frequently
paused to think about that incredible woman, not expecting to ever see her
again.

After I finished the first book, I felt nature calling and headed to the
public restrooms. When I came out, I got a big surprise. Just disappearing
into the ladies' room was none other than the girl in the black bikini.

I looked around cautiously. No potential boyfriends in sight. Here was
my chance to talk to her. Although deep down I knew that a date with her
was basically out of the question, even if she didn't have a boyfriend, I
still thought it would be nice to talk to such a cool-seeming chick. My
heart was pounding, but I told myself not to be so shy. "What's the worst
that could happen?" I thought. "That she'll laugh at me." Oh, how I wish
that had been true.

I darted back into the men's room and put my stuff by the sink, then 
looked in the mirror to quickly fix my hair. After that, I stood just
inside the entrance, listening carefully for the sound of footsteps coming
from the ladies' room, intending to "coincidentally" come out at the same
time that she did.

As soon as the sound of the footsteps came, I walked casually out of the
men's room and came face to face with the girl. Now getting a close-up
view of her, I saw that her face was as gorgeous as her body. At about
5'8", she was an inch taller than me, and her breasts were small, firm,
and round, probably 36Bs. Her muscles rippled as she moved. I've always 
admired athletic, muscular women, perhaps because they have achieved what I 
never could. I'm a short, relatively skinny guy who's never been athletic - 
the kind of guy who was always picked last for teams on the playground in 
elementary school. Even after trying different kinds of workouts, I was
never able to get real muscle definition. Those fitness infomercials are
a sham - you're basically stuck with the body genetics gave you. Now,
standing directly in front of this girl, I felt a strange combination of
inadequacy and arousal.

"Um...er...hi," I said, stammering despite my best efforts not to. "I saw
you playing volleyball earlier. Those backflip kicks you did were amazing."

She smiled, a small half-smile. "Thanks," she said.

"Where'd you learn to do that stuff?" I asked.

"Oh, I used to be in gymnastics," she answered casually. "I like to keep in
practice." She shifted her feet, as if she was getting ready to leave.

Wanting to keep the conversation going, I pressed, "Do you play volleyball
on your college team?"

"My high school team, actually. I'll be playing at college next year."
Wow, a body and skills this well developed and still in high school? This
chick was even more fantastic than I had thought.

She suddenly gave me a sharp stare. "Could you step into the ladies' room
with me for a moment?" she said. Laughing at the expression on my face,
she added, "Don't worry, there's no one else in here." Well, now my mind 
was racing. What did she want?

Once we were inside, she gave me that sharp stare again. "What's your name?"

"I'm Ben. And you are?"

"Tania," she replied. I held out my hand. "Nice to meet you, Tania."

Instead of shaking my hand, she gave me a scowl. A cold feeling washed over
me. "Listen here, Ben," she said. Her voice, which had been pleasant and
conversational, was now hard and angry. "I don't like dumb ugly fucks like
you hitting on me. You perverts are disgusting." She nodded at my erection,
which was showing clearly underneath my shorts.

I could feel my face turning red. "Please, I'm sorry," I said. "I won't
bother you any more." I turned to go, but before I could move she suddenly
grabbed my arm. Her grip was impressively strong and her biceps bulged as
she held me. I tried to wiggle free, but it was no use.

"You think you're sorry now?" said Tania with a smirk. "You'll be a lot
sorrier after I'm through with you." As she spoke, she twisted my arm
painfully. I let out a yelp and she laughed.

"You've got arms like a girl," she taunted, placing her arm next to mine.
Although she had a slim waist and probably couldn't have weighed more than
130 pounds, her wrists and forearms were distinctly thicker and more 
muscular than mine. She made a fist with her free hand and the muscles in
her forearm stood out even more.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp, brutal pain in my jaw. I began falling backwards,
but Tania's grip pulled me back upright. I realized that she had punched
me in the face. Her strong punch had been so fast that I hadn't seen it
coming. She punched me again. This time, the blow landed squarely on my 
nose. I yelled in pain and felt blood leaking out. With a sexy smile, the 
brunette vixen released my arm, then kicked me hard in the chest. I was 
knocked backward and bumped into the bathroom wall with a groan.

Tania moved so she was standing between me and the exit. "Come on, pervert,
fight me," she sneered. "Or is a girl too much for you to handle?"

My mind was racing again. Her sudden violence had come as a total shock.
I figured my best course of action was to hit her once or twice, get her
out of the way, and run like hell out of there. I didn't think it would be
too hard - we were about the same size. Subconsciously, I guess I knew that
she was stronger than me and could easily kick my ass, but consciously, I
didn't want to think about it, remembering the last time I had gotten beat
up by a girl (tenth grade, where a muscular blonde on the soccer team had
kicked my butt in front of a large crowd). I had been told many times
growing up that men were not supposed to hit women, but she had attacked
me, right? Still, I was hesitant.

Wiping off some of the blood from my nose, I swung a halfhearted punch at
her face. She dodged it easily and laughed. "Pussy," she taunted. Getting
angry now, I launched a more determined punch at her. In a flash, she
blocked it with a strong forearm, then drove her knee into my stomach.
Suddenly, I was unable to stand up straight. The pain was vicious. As I
stood there helpless, she slammed her fist into my right eye, then grabbed
me by the shirt and yanked me upright. With a seductive smile on her 
pretty face, she brutally headbutted me, knocking me into the wall again.
She advanced on me and her long, muscular right leg came up in a sexy high
kick. WHAM! I felt an explosion of pain as her foot impacted my jaw. If
her punches were hard, her kicks were sadistic. Balancing on her right leg,
she fired three rapid kicks with her left into my face. She then gave me
a powerful roundhouse kick to the side of my head. Her kick sent me to the
cold bathroom floor in a crumpled heap.

I turned over and saw Tania perform a perfect front handspring to take her
closer to me. Despite the searing pain I was in, I couldn't help admiring
her skill. 

She stood over me and laughed coldly. "Pathetic sack of shit," she hissed.
She drew her leg back and kicked me viciously in the side, as if she was
kicking a soccer ball. A sharp sound and a nasty jolt of pain told me that
she had cracked one of my ribs. She grabbed me and hauled me to my feet.
"Get up, fuckhead. I'm not through with you yet." She gave me a couple of
quick, stinging jabs to my face.

I was now standing closer to the door than she was. Seeing an opportunity,
I raced for the exit. Before I had gone five feet, however, I was tackled
to the floor from behind. Looking up, I saw Tania's beautiful but cold
face. "Like my tackle? I play tackle football with the guys at school," she
taunted me. Standing up, she circled around me, blocking the way to the
exit.

I climbed slowly to my feet, pain shooting all over me. "Please, you've 
made your point," I begged pleadingly. "I'm sorry for looking at you."

Tania snickered. "Oh, you're begging me now? That's a hoot. You perverts
are so pathetic. Whistling at women from cars, groping our breasts, making
lewd comments. But when one of us fights back and corners you, you have to
resort to begging. Just pathetic."

Well, I wanted to explain to her that I had never groped a woman's breast 
or whistled at a woman from a car, but it was clear that she was not in the
mood to be reasoned with. She was in full ass-kicking mode, and I was her
unfortunate victim.

She advanced on me. I tried to surprise her by attempting a kick. Seeing
it coming, she danced out of the way easily, then pivoted and performed a
side kick. Her sandal-clad foot plowed into my ribs, cracking another one
of them. I screamed in pain, trying to hold back the tears in my eyes. As
she advanced again, I swung a punch at her exposed stomach. She tensed her
abs. I let out another scream of pain as my fist impacted her tanned wall
of abdominal muscle.

Tania grinned wickedly. "Now let's test your abs," she said. Out of nowhere,
her fist slammed into my soft midsection. With a howl, I doubled over.
Laughing confidently, she punched me in the gut four more times with the
strength and skill of a professional boxer. As I stumbled helplessly, she
fired a powerful soccer kick right into my groin. I almost passed out from
the pain as I crumpled to the floor, clutching my wounded family jewels.

I heard Tania's seductive but cruel laugh ring out. "Strong legs, huh?" she 
bragged.

I stood up slowly, hands still on my injured crotch. My bikini-clad opponent
approached me. "This is for my sister, who was groped during spring break
last year," she said. With that, she performed a brutal spin kick that
smashed into the side of my head. The strength of her attack sent me 
spinning around. I crashed face first into one of the stall doors. As I 
hit it, the door swung open. I landed on my knees in the stall, face close
to the toilet (which someone had forgotten to flush).

Footsteps approached from behind. I got up and turned around, staring into
Tania's cold and unsympathetic eyes. "And this one's for me," she finished.
"You liked my backflip kicks, so here's one up close and personal." The last
thing I remembered was Tania, beautiful as ever in her black bikini, 
launching herself into a perfect back flip, her foot plowing into the
underside of my jaw as she flew through the air.

* * *

I was awakened by a slow, steady beeping sound, like on those cliched TV
shows where the hero is injured and wakes up in the hospital. I looked 
around and discovered that I was indeed in a hospital bed. Glancing out the
window, I saw that it was dark outside. I must have been out for several
hours. The memories slowly came back, memories of Tania beating and kicking
the crap out of me. I shuddered.

Looking in the other direction, my eyes made out three people standing near
my bed, two women and a man. One of the women was wearing a nurse's uniform,
while the other woman and the man were wearing police uniforms.

"Glad to see you're awake," said the nurse. "You've been out for quite a
while." With an effort, I sat up straighter. "Don't try to move too much,"
she cautioned.

The nurse nodded at the police officers. "These folks would like to ask you
a few questions, if you're up for it," she said. I nodded. "Good. I'll be
out in the hall. Press the button if you need anything."

As the nurse left the room, the officers approached me. "A woman found you
unconscious and bleeding on the floor of the ladies' room at the beach," the
male officer said. "You were also in your underwear. Care to explain what
happened?"

What was I supposed to say? That a beautiful woman in a bikini had beaten me
up because I had perved on her? I couldn't say that. So I made up a lie.

"Well, as I was washing my hands in the men's room, these two big guys came
in," I lied. "One of them grabbed my wallet and then they both beat me up.
They must have dumped me in the ladies' room."

The male officer looked satisfied at my explanation, but the female officer
had a suspicious look on her (cute) face. "Why would they go in there, and
risk being seen?" she asked. "And why would they take your clothes?"

"I...I don't know," I stammered. "It's hard to understand the motives of
criminals sometimes, I guess."

After taking my statement, the police officers left. The female officer
gave me a strange look as she walked out of the room, as if she somehow knew
that I wasn't telling the truth.

Well, after that the nurse came back in and told me that I had a broken nose,
two cracked ribs, and a pretty bad concussion. She said they wanted to keep
me in the hospital for a couple of days.

My physical recovery went okay, and I went back home soon enough. My 
psychological recovery, on the other hand, was a different story. About a 
week after I got home from the hospital, I received a package that had no
return address. Opening it, I found a shirt - the shirt I had been wearing
that day at the beach. There was also a note. My heart pounded as I read it.

"Hey Ben

Thanks for the wonderful and enjoyable time. I love beating the crap out of
perverts. Here's your shirt back. I'm keeping your wallet as payment for
entertaining you with my back-flips. And I'm keeping your shorts as a 
souvenir. 

Tania

P.S. I know where you live."

Needless to say, it's going to be a long time before I hit on a woman again.

THE END...for now

Contact me at silverstar222b@yahoo.com if you liked this story!