Melissa my Teenaged Superior by smoke69 - smokewriter@webtv.net The Bullying Schoolgirl teaches me a lesson Readers of The Diana the Valkyrie website have read Madman's account of "Melissa the Schoolyard Bully". I have gone so far as to post suggestions on the site's Readers and Writers message board as to who I thought Melissa, her sisters and friends should target next. The thought that I would become Melissa's next target never occurred to me. But if you have read Part 8 of the series, "Smoked Out", you know that Melissa beat me up - no, that's too tame a phrase. Total annihilation is more like it. I couldn't believe the beautiful blonde vision that was standing in my doorway. She was young but poised and confident. At first I thought that maybe she was selling cookies or raffles for an activity in her high school, or maybe she was having car trouble - though she looked just barely old enough to drive. The thought went through my head - she looked almost exactly as I had pictured Melissa! Although I didn't even consider the fact that it could possibly be her. She then called me by the name "Smoke", which is a moniker that I only use to post on the internet! Then, she informed me that she indeed was Melissa, and that she wasn't happy with the idea of "older men" like me "getting their rocks off" by reading of her exploits. I won't attempt to recount in detail what then happened, since Melissa has already done that, with accuracy, and much more articulately than I am capable of doing. Before I had a chance to explain, Melissa punched me in the stomach and uninvited, stepped into my house and closed the door. She continued her beating until I was motionless on the floor, taking whatever fight i had left out of me. I thought that having made her point she was finished with me, but despite the fact that I offered no resistance she then proceeded to slowly, deliberately torture my body, putting body part after body part in it's own special agony, until I was a wreck from head to toe. After that, Melissa made me show her my computer, which she proceeded to send crashing in pieces to the floor before leaving my house as abruptly as she had entered it. I wasn't even able to get off of the floor for the next hour, and when I did every little move shot more pain through me. Everything had happened so quickly that I hadn't even had time to think about what was happening. How did she know how to find me? Why was she so relentless in her attack? Aside from being in intense physical misery, my mind was swimming in confusion. With great difficulty I struggled to the bathroom and drew a hot bath. Jolts of pain went up my injured right arm as I turned on the faucet, but at least the arm was useable - I couldn't move my left arm at all! At first I thought that Melissa had dislocated my shoulder and maybe broken my elbow with her incredible legs, but I think that it's probably only some strained tendons and a hyper extended elbow that will improve with time. At least I hope so! For the next two days, I called in sick to work and didn't leave the house. I could barely move from my bed to the bathroom. I didn't eat much, but then again I didn't have much of an appetite. As I was able to think back to the whirlwind of activity that took place during Melissa's visit, I wondered how she was able to find me. I wished that she would have given me a chance to explain that I had been on her side, that I was encouraging her to succeed against newer and more powerful opponents. I wished that she knew that I was conceding defeat from the time she first closed the door to the outside world and kneed me in the balls. If only I had been able to explain any of that to her, maybe she would have been easier on me, I thought to myself. And then, a few days after the beating, Melissa got me again. Not physically, but on the internet! Until I got a new computer, I had to use one in the local library, and of course I couldn't help myself by going straight to the Diana the Valkyrie story site. What Melissa had done to me in my house was bad enough. But now, she had shared her destruction of me with readers from all over the world! She was so smug in her account, as she proudly recounted, move by move, what she did to me. But it was more than just that. She was enjoying what she was doing. She was doing more than unleashing her anger against me - she was having fun doing it! In "Smoked Out" Melissa answered so many of the lingering questions I had about how she had found me and what her intentions were. I now realized that telling her that I was on her side would have done me no good at all. She had decided to torture me before she even knocked on my door, and nothing was going to deter her. When I opened my door in response to her knock, I couldn't help checking out Melissa's body and sexy outfit. my eyes fixed on her solid, shapely legs and the boots that went up the calves. Little did I know that those boots would soon be inflicting severe pain on several parts of my body, not the least of which would be a hard, but easily delivered, stomp to my balls. Then I looked up her awesome body, her abs rippling with hard muscle up to her incredibly beautiful face and long, lush blonde hair. She looked at me with a half-smile. For a second, I foolishly thought that she might be checking me out, and that maybe this was going to be my lucky night. But after having read Melissa's account, I now know that she wasn't considering whether I was attractive to her, but instead was assessing me, and had decided, as she put it, that she could have her way with me. I couldn't have put it any better. Melissa had her way with me. I was unable to stop anything she wanted to do to me. She wanted to punish me in a painful manner, and she did. Like I said, I was well beyond the point of resisting, but she relentlessly went after me. In the end, I would have promised to be her lifelong slave if she would only stop administering her special brand of brutality. She could have done even worse things to me and I would have been unable to do anything to stop her. It's funny how youngsters like Melissa view "older people". She thought that maybe I was in my late thirties, which I am sure seems very old to her, but I am actually 48 - three times her own age!. In fact, I have two sons that are in their mid-twenties, one eight years and the other ten years older than Melissa! But I must admit, neither of them would stand a chance against Melissa - or even her sister Shannon. As much as I was physically hurt by Melissa, I was equally as stung by her words. I have seen many examples lately of how boastful teenaged girls have contempt rather than respect for their elders, and Melissa's arrogant account is the best example I can cite of such audacity. Melissa doesn't even realize how badly and thoroughly she destroyed my body. She boasts about how her punishing boot laces sawed through my face and drew some blood. What she didn't know was that the head-scissors that she put me in broke a tooth and loosened another one! I will now have to have expensive and painful dental work done. And then came Melissa's figure-4 leg hold. She knew that she was making my head feel like it was going to pop my neck. But what she apparently didn't realize was that her calves nearly dislocated my jaw! To this day my speech is slurred, because my jaws and cheeks are swollen and my mouth can't work right. If she could see me right now, I'm sure that she would have a good laugh, and would be very proud of herself - my head and face, inside and out, is a shredded, bloody, bruised mess. And although Melissa concentrated her energies on the upper part of my body, she caused me to inflict damage on my lower body. As she put me through the wringer, I futilely thrashed my legs around, banging my knees and my feet to the point where I have to hobble and limp around on my bent, nearly wrecked body. As she flung down my computer with incredible ease before gliding out of my house, could only regard her with awe. No person had ever enforced their will on me like this. No one had ever punished me like this. I looked at her as a Goddess. But now - and maybe I shouldn't be saying this - I am beginning to resent what Melissa did to me. I couldn't stand the smug satisfaction with which she told the story of what she had done. How she wanted to, as she said, "demolish this guy" and then proceeded to do it. I couldn't stand the fact that people all over Earth were reading "Smoked Out" while laughing and cheering her on with each new jolt of pain that I experienced. Melissa had no right to do what she did. She invaded my house - MY PROPERTY- without my permission. In my own living room, she thrashed me to the point where I was a wrecked heap. Then she destroyed my property - my two thousand dollar computer! I had to buy a dammed Web-TV as a temporary measure just to keep up to date on the net until I get a new computer system! Between the assault and the damage, she is probably in violation of several felonies. I wonder if Melissa would be so audacious and boastful if she were made to answer for what she did. She came into my house and violated me! She avoids the question about my suggestion that she beat up her father if he gives her any trouble. Well, maybe she is afraid of him. What if I went to her father and told him what his "darling daughter" had done after borrowing his car to supposedly go to the library? Maybe she wouldn't be so smug then! My home security system records all activity in my driveway, and my oldest son Oliver might be a computer geek but he could easily trace the license plate number to her dad! Or maybe I will tell my buddy Norm, a detective in the police department. A visit from him might give her a good scare. He may be a bit overweight after too many beers over too many years, but he is a cop and I'll bet he knows how to intimidate and put some fear into her. Maybe he can even get the money back for the computer she broke and the dental work that she caused. Or maybe I will blow the cover off of her antics in school - her extortion of the boys, and how she has gotten her field hockey teammates and her cheerleader friends to act as her "enforcers". A word to some teachers or maybe the principal of the school might put an end to that! Like I said, maybe I am foolish to make these threats. Maybe my anger and resentment of the way she violated me in my house is surfacing with the passage of time. But she deserves to be punished for what she did. Maybe the threats they will give me protection from my awesome teenaged nemesis. Or maybe they won't be just threats -and then it would be MY turn to enjoy the effects of MY actions! After reading "Smoked Out" and now understanding the sheer pleasure and enjoyment that she took in hurting me, there would be nothing to stop her from returning and doing it again. My threats, and my following through on them, would be a justified pre-emptive action. So to Melissa, I say, I'm pleading with you, and failing that I'm warning you - PLEASE, MELISSA, I BEG OF YOU, YOU HAD BETTER LEAVE ME ALONE, OR ELSE! PLEASE!