>>4792668The weird thing was that Mori was legitimately interested in fighting. You would prefer her to join an amateur dojo, and also never appear in your life again, but it wasn't just a sex freak thing. It was a sex freak thing, but she could just show up to get beaten up, bruised, humiliated, over and over again, until you'd call a police or a dog pound. Instead, she was actually trying to win a fight against you, check to see what worked and what didn't, practice stances and strikes, and so on and so on. The result though was that she still ended up on the floor every time, and then she would coax you into hitting her butt for it. You tried to get out of it, but she turned into a clingy elementary schooler that just saw a toy. On one of those days, the annoying thing you were always suspecting would happen happened - you got caught.
A random nosy passerby went to check out what the noise was and saw her in a compromising position. You didn't hear him say it, but his face was a classic "what the fuck". Mori saw it too.
"Never mind, haha. This guy here is my dad. I'm being unfairly abused and beaten! Just a piece of small-town domestic violence, am I right? Move along now." He walked off, mumbling something to himself about freaky streetwalkers having no shame, and you mentally agreed. The whole episode made you lose count, though, so you restarted from zero.
Over the course of the next few months her assaults on your personal space had no pattern to them at all, other than being consistently annoying. She popped up from behind a pickup truck at the Wendy's parking lot, down an oak tree (didn't end up being a proper fight, she got caught in the branches and you helped her climb down after whapping her with one of them at her insistence), from under a manhole cover, everywhere, with no system. A curious thing was that the "spoils" she demanded you take from her weren't just a sex freak thing — you expected that she'd lustfully moan or something, but she mostly just sucked air through her teeth and cursed under her breath every time her ass got beaten. You didn't really get it.
Three weeks through October, she finally scored a hit on you that did lasting damage. You were walking back from the market with two bags of assorted produce and really didn't expect a low sweep. You hit your jaw square on the asphalt. The bags flew off hell knows where, some of the tangerines already rolled onto the road and got squished by a car, it was a mess.
"The fuck?!" you yelled on top of your lungs. You knew it was her. Who else.
"How's this, huh, old man?" she said triumphantly from behind your back. "Never let your enemy sleep, as they say! I rolled for initiative and won it!"
"I was... literally... just walking to my car! What the hell is wrong with you? I'm so fucking done."
"Does this mean you accept my challenge?"
"No, but you'll accept something alright."
This time it was your turn dragging her off, though she didn't really resist, you were just walking faster. You were looking for the nearest available surface to sit down on, which turned out to have been the marble border of the fountain at the center of the square - the benches facing it were occupied. You sat down on it, then pushed Mori over one of your knees and set your other knee on top of her long legs.
Albeit Mori would inevitably demand that you "beat her ass" after losing fights to you, she never specified bare skin, and you weren't going to strip a woman in her twenties unprompted, so the sight of it was actually new to you. Eye-blindingly pale, of course - you haven't really seen her in anything but sportswear, and the town didn't even have a waterfront, much less a beach to tan on. You briefly considered pulling down her bright pink panties alongside her trousers, but decided against it, giving her a wedgie instead. Rubbing your coarse hand on her tender skin probably felt like sandpaper to her. You expected her to try to weasel out of this or at least say she's sorry, but she was simply waiting. You raised your hand high in the air and decided to not make her wait any longer.
You were glad she wasn't making, like, horny noises while spanked in public like that. Different compared to her normal demeanor, but fairly normal aws and owws every time you left a handprint. The random passerby were mostly weirdly disinterested, maybe she was just a fixture of this town at this point, but there was some leering still. She had some muscle in her, but was trying to relax to make it hurt less, which made it easier for you too.
You didn't really have a set goal, thinking of maybe stopping when she says sorry or starts crying or something, but that clearly wasn't going to happen, so you just kept spanking toll your shoulder was sore, finished with a really hard slap and abruptly stood up. She fell to the ground, stood up and started pulling her trousers back up.
(2/3)
