So, things had finally come to a head. Gina was my worst enemy in my high school, and we were going to fist city. Dude, I hated that girl! We had both been seething at the thought of each other since mid-afternoon.

As the final bell rang, I could feel the eyes of the school on me as I strolled out to the parking lot surrounded by my crew. The Vegas sun was baking the asphalt. Gina and her bitch brigade were waiting, their faces snarling. I was ready for this…I hoped. Losing would be catastrophic. The loser would have to kowtow to her enemy for the rest of the school year and beyond.

The crowd of students parted as I approached, creating a clearing around us like we were gladiators in a teen bitch colosseum. Gina stepped forward, her hands balled into fists. "You're going to regret this, Lana," she snarled.

I just smirked. "Time will tell, ho-bag!" 

And without another word, we circled each other, the air filled with the cheers and insults of the bystanders. Our bodies were a blur of motion as we fought, fists flying and legs kicking. Every time she got a hit in, I felt the sting, but it just made me angrier. And every time I hit her, it was like I was striking a blow for every time she had made me miserable.

The fight was messy and raw. We rolled across the ground, grabbing at each other, pulling hair and scratching. But I had the upper hand. I was swift and precise. I hit her flush on the face with my fist and gave her a kick in the mouth that made blood flow down her chin. I flipped her on her stomach and while she was down, I gave her three hard stomps directly in her lovely ass.

The ass-stomping started her bawling and begging for mercy. "Please, Lana, no more, please!” she pleaded. I advanced toward her, and she was sobbing uncontrollably. She begged for mercy again. Holding her hands out pitifully, she wailed, "Please, Lana, I'll do anything. Please don't hurt me again," she begged.

"Look at you," I taunted. "The fucking prom queen begging for her sad and fucked up life! You don't look like the prom queen now! You look like a skank with a shiner and a bloody mouth who just got her ass stomped by Lana! Get out of my sight!” I screamed.

I heard gasping, and Gina's eyes were wide with horror. And with one last punch in the stomach that took her breath away, I let her go. The crowd of sick voyeurs erupted into cheers. Even most of HER crew were cheering! Everyone loves a winner. Game over!

I didn't bother to look back as I walked away. Because now, I knew that I could handle anything this shithole school might throw my way. And when I got home, Donna would be waiting for me, her arms open wide and ready to celebrate my victory.

As I climbed into my Mustang, the adrenaline was still coursing through my veins, and my knuckles were red and raw. But I was smiling. I had never felt more alive. The engine roared to life, and I peeled out of the school parking lot, the wind whipping through my hair. I had just stomped one of the prettiest asses I had ever seen, and the sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the city. Lana’s world!

But even as I sped home, the thrill of the fight began to fade. What had come over me? I had never been so aggressive before. There was something about Gina that had brought it out in me, something primal and fierce. And at that point, I couldn't help but feel raw, primate excitement. I was one mean fucking she-ape!

Donna had heard all about the fight even before my Mustang could get me home. She was waiting for me when I pulled into the circular driveway, her eyes wide with worry. But when she saw my bruises, she didn't scold me or ask questions. She just took me into her arms and held me tight, her hands stroking my hair like I was a scared little girl. And maybe, for a moment, I was.

But she knew what I had done. She knew that I had claimed my place, not just in the school hierarchy, but in her heart. I was a scrapper just like her. I was willing to fight just like her. And she was proud of me. I could feel it in the way she kissed me, her tongue sliding against mine, her hand cupping my ass. We didn't speak, we didn't have to.

The house was quiet as we stumbled inside, my breathing had slowed only a bit, and my body was streaked with sweat and grime. She led me into the bathroom, where she had drawn a bath, the water steaming and fragrant. "Let me take care of you," she murmured, her voice soothing.

I sank into the tub with a sigh, the water soothing my aches. Donna knelt beside me, her hand stroking my leg. She leaned down and kissed my knee, her lips lingering. "You're so strong, baby" she whispered. "So, so strong."

And as she helped me wash away the remains of the day, I knew that she wasn't just talking about the fight. She was talking about everything. The way I had stood up to Gina, the way I had claimed what was mine.

Donna climbed into the tub and took her time, washing me with a tenderness that made me feel cherished. Her hands slid over my skin, her fingertips tracing the contours of my body like a map showing the way to pleasure. And when she reached down to my pussy, she began finger blasting me, “Oh shit,” I gasped. Then I just leaned back and let her hand have me as my problems and my aches wafted away, and when I came, I came hard, with tears falling down my cheeks.

"You're so pretty, Lana," Donna murmured, her voice thick with desire.

The water grew colder, but we didn't move. We stayed there, lost in our own little world, until the sky outside began to darken. Then we stepped from the tub and dried each other off, the soft towel gliding over my skin. And when she led me to her bed, I didn't hesitate. We fell onto the sheets, our bodies tangling. Her kisses were hungry, her hands demanding. And I yielded. I served myself up to her, and she gave me world-class fucking!.

A couple of weeks later, Gina, her entourage nowhere in sight, approached me in the locker room. She looked... different. Less brazen, more vulnerable. "Lana, I'm so sorry," she mumbled, her eyes avoiding mine. "You kicked my ass, and I had it coming."

I raised an eyebrow while towel drying my hair. "What's this, Gina?" I asked, feigning nonchalance. "A peace offering?"

Her voice was small, almost desperate. "I've always wanted to be your friend. To be part of your crew." She took a shaky breath. "I don't have any real friends. I've been such a... a bitch."

I paused, the towel frozen in mid-air. "So now you want to make things right. Ain’t it a little late?"

"I'll do anything," she begged. "I'll crawl. I'll kiss your ass. I'll be your personal assistant. Anything."

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a twinge of pity. Bitch was making good offers! She had been a royal pain in the ass, but the prom queen had just offered to be my PA. That was a new one. PA to a girl who was barely 16? "Why would you be my PA?” I asked incredulously. You're a senior and I'm a junior. That would be so fucking humiliating for you!"

"I'm tired of being alone," she said, her eyes finally meeting mine. "I've seen how you guys are together, and I want that. I want to be liked, to be part of something. I want to be liked by you."

I took a step closer, dropping the towel. "I've got a better idea," I said, my voice low. "You want to make it up to me?"

Her eyes widened, and she nodded eagerly. "What do you want?"

"You're gonna apologize to the people you've hurt," I told her. "Publicly. And you're gonna help me organize a fundraising event for the animal shelter. And you're gonna eat my pussy whenever I want and you're gonna tell me you like it, even when it's all gnarly and sweaty."

Her face fell a little, but she nodded again. "Okay," she said, her voice a mere whisper. Jeez, she really would do anything.

"Good," I said with a smirk. "Let's get to work. And don't be worthless."

The following weeks were a whirlwind of apologies and event planning. Gina surprised everyone with her sincerity and hard work. She turned out to be a surprisingly good organizer, and the event was a smash. People started to see her differently, and slowly she began to shed her reputation as a world-class bee-atch!.

One night, after a grueling day of animal shelter organizing, we found ourselves alone in my house. She looked at me with a mix of fear and hope. "Lana," she began, her voice shaking. "I've never done anything like this before."

"Like what?" I asked, playing coy.

"Like...really liking someone. I really like you," she admitted, her cheeks flushing. "I don't know if I'm doing it right."

I stepped closer, placing a hand on her cheek. "You're doing just fine," I whispered.

And then she was in my arms, her mouth on mine, and all the tension of the past few weeks melted away. We kissed like it was our job. Her body pressed against me, her breasts crushing against my chest. And as we made our way to the bedroom, I knew that this was the real victory. Not the catfight, not the power play in the parking lot. This moment, when she was mine, willing and eager, that was the win.

Our bodies surrendered to each other. And when we were done, lying on the sweaty sheets, Gina was no longer the enemy, but a member of my little crew. And…well…she was hot! That made it pretty damned easy to forgive everything.

Life at school was different with Gina trailing around being my bitch. Her former bitch brigade watched with a mix of envy and fear, knowing that their days of tormenting whomever they wanted to torment were over and that I had defenestrated the queen bee of the hive. They whispered about us in the hallways, especially about the power I held over her. But I was out of fucks to give. I reveled in my newfound power.

Every time Gina walked by, she dropped her eyes to the floor, and she'd whisper, "Hi, Lana," with a little shiver. The teachers didn't know what had happened, but they noticed the shift. Gina went from the popular girl who owned the place, to the quiet, mousy one who had to curry favor with me every day.

She'd come to me after practice, sweat-drenched and desperate. "Please, Lana," she'd beg. "I need it." And I'd give it to her, my fingers sliding into her wetness, watching her face contort in ecstasy. It was like she'd been waiting for someone to take her over, to reduce her.

Of course, the whispers grew louder, the rumors wilder. They said we were fucking, that she was my bitch. And we were and she was. She was mine. And everyone knew it.

It took me a while to admit that the best part was the power. The power to make her do whatever I wanted. And what I wanted was to see her squirm, to watch her come undone. She was proactive in pleasing me. She anticipated my wants. And she did it all eagerly, her eyes shining with something that looked a lot like love, or maybe she was just cray cray.

The whispers followed me wherever I went, but I didn't care. I had Gina, and she was more than enough. She was my confidante, my servant, my lover. And every day, she'd find new ways to prove her loyalty, to show me that she was mine. She'd send me notes in class, little love letters scribbled hurriedly, nervously. "You're all I think about," she'd write, her handwriting sloppy from desire. And I'd read them, a smirk playing on my lips, knowing that she was thinking of me, of us, of what we did together.

And when College Day came, she was there, her hand in mine as we made our announcements. "Stanford, early acceptance, full ride," I said into the microphone, my voice clear and strong. And as the crowd erupted into applause, she squeezed my hand, her eyes shining with pride. For Gina, it was Berkeley. She would be leaving after this year, and I would be staying on at our high school for my senior year. But when I eventually got to Palo Alto and Stanford, we would be only 40 miles apart. It was an exciting time. My heart was full.

Stanford wanted me. I had the grades, full set of extracurriculars, and the eye-popping SAT. Also, I was all-state in softball and basketball. After I was accepted with more than a full year of high school left, Donna arranged a meeting with the Stanford AD and the softball and basketball coaches. They were like...all eager.
I was blue-chip, but D1 is hella competitive. I looked both coaches in the eye. "I don't want to come here and sit," I said. I only want to come here if I'm gonna start." Connie, the softball coach, said, "Look, Lana, you're one of the 3 or 4 top shortstop prospects in the country. You could start for us right now, and you're a high school junior. You'll be a starter on day one."
The basketball coach, Jalen, a 12-year NBA veteran, said, “Lana, when you get here, we'll be stocked with blue-chip bigs. We're gonna need someone who can anchor the D and distribute the rock. You’ll be integral to our success. You will start, sweetheart. You'll get so many minutes, you'll be begging me to sit you down!" It was a good meeting. I left feeling assured that this was gonna be my place. 

But there was still the matter of the academics hanging over my head. The Stanford student body was filled with geniuses. It was a fucking nerd paradise. Even with my stellar credentials, I would have to bust my ass to keep pace. This was gonna be the biggest challenge of my life. But…slow down, Lana, it was still more than a year away.

Life at our high school changed as we all matured, even if sometimes slowly. My one-sided relationship with Gina grew even stronger. The most beautiful girl in the entire school had gained back some of her old swagger, and together she and I ruled. 

It was weird. I was the junior leader of the pack, and she was the blonde, leggy, simply gorgeous senior sidekick. Dig it! My fucking sidekick, dude! And as I drove her home on the evening of College Day, her hand between my legs, I knew that this was just the beginning. The world was ours. Gina was my bitch. The world was my bitch!

But as we pulled into her driveway, her mood shifted. "Whassup?" I asked, sliding the car into park. She just sat there, staring out the window, her hand still in my crotch.

"Lana," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "What happens when I go to Berkeley?"

I turned to her, my eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

"I... I don't know if I can handle it," she admitted, her eyes filling with tears. "Without you."

"You're gonna be fine," I said, my voice firm. "You're gonna kick ass and take names. And you'll still have me, keeping you in line."

"But not all the time," she said, her voice breaking. "You're going to be here, and I'll be there, trying to keep up with the geniuses."

"Gina, listen, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever known. But you're not just a pretty face, baby," I said, reaching out to wipe a tear from her cheek. "You’re not just some cunt. You're a fucking smart cookie. My cookie. You'll do great."

"But I won't have you," she said, her voice thick with sadness. "You won't be there to... to keep me in line all the time. I’ll get out of line, and I’ll disappoint you."

I laughed, the sound harsh. "You’ll be mine, even if I have to really put a tattoo on you or some shit!"

Her eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"I'll be there," I told her, my voice dropping low. "In every way that matters. You're mine, Gina. That’s the only thing you need to know.”

And with that, I leaned in and kissed her, hard and deep. She melted into me, her arms wrapping around my neck, her body pressing into mine. And as we kissed, I knew that she understood. She didn’t belong to herself; she belonged to me.

The next day, Donna sat me down in the living room. She had the letter from Stanford in her hand, and she was beaming. "Remember when I flew to Palo Alto with your coaches and your principal? Well, sweetheart, the fucking fix is in! You're going to be wearing Cardinal in the fall, kiddo," she said, her voice full of pride. "They want you in the fall. You have enough credits to make it happen. No senior year here."

"But what about Gina?" I asked, my heart racing.

Donna's smile grew. "They want her too," she said. "They want her even more than they want you."

"What?" I stared at her, not believing what I was hearing. More than Lana?

"They think she's the key to winning a national title in softball," she said. “You're both in, Lana. You two lovebird bitches are going to Stanford together."

I couldn't believe it. Gina and I, together at the school of our dreams. It...