Chapter One

 

Hannah is a very sweet girl. She's got soft, golden blonde hair which she cuts straight and lets hang down a few inches past her shoulders, with really thick bangs that almost cover her blue eyes. She's got big breasts which make her a real guy magnet, and a big heart which makes it easy for her to be screwed over.

I wouldn't exactly say she's a slut. But she's not super sophisticated and can be easily led-on by guys with sweet words. And she's certainly got the attitude of a slut. She's fascinated with sex and is always talking about it. She's got a great body and is very proud of it. And she had a shitty home life so she's always looking for love, affection, and security.

She's made to be taken advantage of by horny boys, in other words. The only thing which kept her from being the school trampoline in our high school was she was shy, self-conscious in groups, and tongue-tied around boys. Also, she got in trouble early by sending her topless pics to guys and they got out.

Which is why she's been known as a slut for years. Even though, honestly, she doesn't have that much experience.

I first met her when I was transferred into our high school in the ninth grade. My father's in the army so bouncing from place to place was fairly normal for me. I got over being shy really quickly and now was used to being the new girl. The teacher, Mrs. Danby, sat me next to Hannah because that desk was empty. It was empty because once she knew you she was an earnest little chatterbox who drove people crazy. Probably because she was trying to make friends.

Anyway, Mrs. Danby assigned her to show me around. It didn't take more than ten minutes sitting next to her to realize she was an easy mark, and not just for boys. Girls bullied her because, well, it was so easy. They teased her, made things up to get her worked up, and sometimes just poked and prodded at her.

In this case, the girl behind me was amusing herself in a boring class by smacking her head occasionally with a ruler. That annoyed me, so I leaned back, snatched her wrist, gave it a twist, took the ruler away, snapped it in half, and tossed it on the floor.

My dad's in the army. I forgot to mention he was a hand-to-hand combat instructor for years and had taught me a lot about fighting. I wasn't afraid of anyone, particularly not some chubby girl with acne who looked like she'd fall over if she had to run a block.

That kind of set the tone for my relationship with Hannah. She was annoying at times, but awfully helpless, and I felt sorry for her. So I was often getting her out of one scrape or another. Or comforting her after some boy had abused her trust. I was also always warning her about them, which I credit as being the only reason she got through high school without getting pregnant.

Because she was annoying I kept some distance between us. I'm a cynic, and my attitude tends to be to veer away from that of soft-hearted sensitivity. I'm kind of a tomboy, much preferring things like sports cars and sports, not to mention shooting (my family life in the military, after all) than frilly fashions, shoes, and makeup.

Most girls seemed obsessed with getting a boyfriend, and the various ways to entice and keep them. Much of this involved how to improve their looks, and the rest was about how to simper and flatter and seduce guys. None of that held any interest for me.

Not that I didn't like guys. I hung around with guys more than girls. Not that I didn't like to look good, either. But I wasn't going to wear makeup and push-up bras and short skirts to attract a boy. Nor was I going to simper and pretend I was a dumb, helpless girl or use any of the other 'strategies' most of the girls I knew talked about.

Sex. Sex was interesting as a concept. In reality, most guys weren't very good at it. They lacked the patience. Their egos were too fragile to allow them to be taught how to improve when they're bad. And so I had yet to meet a girl who could honestly say to me that the sex was good except in the emotional sense of being happy at pleasing the guy they were with.

Well, I wasn't going to fuck some guy just to make him happy. If it wasn't going to be fun for me then they could go fuck themselves.

I was raised with the attitude I could do anything I wanted, and that I didn't need a guy to make me happy or complete. Realistically, I could have any guy I wanted. I knew that. I've got smaller breasts but a better body than Hannah. Hers is soft and girly. Mine is tight, firm, and athletic. That doesn't mean I'm flat-chested, though. I have nice legs, a really fine ass, and perfect, high, firm breasts.

At least, the guys who've seen it say they're perfect. I've looked for pictures of well-known actresses and models who have breasts as similar to mine as I can find and then what people say about them. So I can say that if what people say about those breasts are what most people think, then I have really nice breasts.

Hey, I don't claim to not be vain. I am a girl, after all, and society says sexy girls are awesome. So if my face, hair, and body seem to, comparatively speaking, be sexy, then I'm awesome! That knowledge gives me the confidence to not have to primp and dress up and put on makeup to try and attract guys.

Much of the focus of Hannah's life is making herself pretty. She pours over every word coming from celebrity-type women about hair and makeup and stuff. Much of my focus is in fixing up an old Mustang (with the help of my dad and brother) I bought, keeping myself in top physical condition, and getting good marks in college.

If I get good marks and graduate I can apply to join the army as an officer. My father was pretty firm on me not joining as enlisted. With a degree, I can apply for officer candidate school, and twelve weeks later I'm an officer.

I like to think I'm firmly grounded, realistic, have lots of common sense, and, as I mentioned, am a cynic. This does not make me give a lot of respect to Hannah and girls like Hannah, but I have a lot of affection for her so I try to protect her and put up with her when she goes on a crying jag.

I've given up reforming her by just talking sense to her. Sense is not something she has a lot of.

Now you might ask, Kristin, given how annoying Hannah is, why in hell would you choose to share an apartment with her? I'm glad you asked. Sometimes I wonder.

The thing is, my dad is now permanently stationed, in the runup to his retirement, at an administrative headquarters pushing paper. Which is why we haven't been transferred again. So we have a nice house and it's not like they wanted to boot me out when I turned eighteen.

But daddy is... bossy is not an unfair term. I know, I know, if you don't like being bossed around, Kristin, why in the hell would you want to join the military? There's a difference between being bossed around at work and bossed around at home in your room when 'off duty'.

Not to mention there's no effort on his part, or my mom, to give me any privacy about my personal life. Or how I dress. Or how I'm doing at school. Or when I get home at night or where I've been or what I'm eating or...

Sigh.

It was getting frustrating! And then Hannah, the little dummy, moves into an apartment with another girl and signs the lease by herself. Which means when the other girl decides to move out the only one stuck for the rent is, guess who. So of course, she's desperate for someone to share the rent. And who does she come to first? Me.

At first, I'm like, no fucking way. But then I thought about it. Hannah's working as a waitress at a steak house. She gets really nice tips because she's pretty and sweet and has nice boobs. But she's also gone most evenings. I, meanwhile, am at school most days, with my evenings free. Hmmm.

I mean, given we'd be sleeping around the same time I'd hardly have to deal with her at all except when our days off coincided. And she worked Saturday nights so...

The apartment was a nice one because of course, she hadn't thought things through but had picked it because it had a pretty view, a balcony where she could tan topless, and a nice bathroom. For me, it represented a place where I could get some peace from my family and, if I wanted to, have a guy over.

So I could present the move to my parents as just helping Hannah out because she was desperate. And say it was mostly temporary, like until the lease was up. And I knew I could handle the ditzy blonde. I don't want to make out like I'm a bully. But I can persuade her into almost anything that doesn't involve dumping a boy she's obsessed with.

Which meant it would be my apartment and she would mostly do as she was told.

Things worked out pretty well, and I could always plead the need to study when I'd had too much of her moping or crying over some boy and retreat to my bedroom. But that didn't mean there weren't times when she was super annoying and I just wanted to smack her!

One such argument was over the TV. We both had TVs in our bedrooms, but the one in the living room was bigger and had a stereo sound system hooked to it. And I absolutely did not want to watch any of the shit she was obsessed with, which I'm thinking you can imagine. It starts with the Kardashians and then goes through the Bachelor, Love Island, Project Runway, and the rest of that ilk.

I'd way rather watch a Marvel superhero movie or something with action in it.

When she doesn't get her way, which she can't unless I agree since I'm bigger and stronger than her, Hannah sulks and pouts. Which is fine if she does it in her room. When she does it in my face it gets annoying.

And one of those times, after I had dismissed her protest about how important it was that she watch tonight's episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills she got sulky and snatched the remote, turned the station, ignoring me, and then tried to keep the remote away from me. That included by shoving it down her top.

That, of course, didn't deter me in the slightest. I've seen her naked plenty of times. I pinned her down, opened her shirt, took the remote back, and changed the channel.

It wasn't difficult.

Then she decided she would annoy me by standing in front of the TV.

"Hannah, move your fat ass," I ordered.

"I don't have a fat ass. I have a gorgeous ass. Look."

She bent forward, waving her ass at me.

"I'm going to kick your gorgeous ass if you don't move it."

"I pay rent here too! I should get to choose some shows!"

"You can choose some shows when I'm not here. Move."

"Make me!"

Making her was not hard. But of course, she could just scurry back in the way.

I was getting really annoyed! And whenever I get really pissed at someone I tend to think about violence. I guess that's one of the ways I'm like a guy. But actually physically fighting with Hannah just wasn't an option. It would be totally unfair since she has no ability to fight at all.

What I could do was yank her down across my lap and give her a half dozen or so sharp slaps to her butt. That made her yelp and squeal, and I hit hard enough to make sure the pain was accomplishing what I wanted, then let her up.

She rubbed her bottom, glowering at me.

"Meany! Bully!"

"Don't make me send you to your room."

"You can't send me to my room like I'm some kind of little girl!"

"Want to see?"

She scowled, then flounced out of the room, presumably to watch her dumb show in her room.

But almost an hour later she was back again. She'd removed her jeans and sweatshirt and changed into her nightie, which was basically just a long t-shirt which was tight across her boobs and hung down a few inches below her butt.

"Now can I watch Too Hot To Handle?"

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a really cool dating show!"

"No."

"Kristin!"

I flicked my fingers dismissively at her and she grabbed at the remote again and ran away, squealing.

"Fuck," I said in annoyance.

I considered just letting her have it and going to my room but I was already bored, so I went after her, calmly. She was in her room looking innocent.

"Where's the remote?"

"Hmmm? I'm sure I don't know."

I grabbed her, sat on the edge of the bed, yanked her down across my lap, and yanked up her little nightshirt. She wasn't wearing any panties, which was a bit of a surprise, but not much. I often don't wear them either.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

"Ow! Oh! Agh! Ow! Quit!"

"Where's the remote?"

"I have no idea!"

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

She was squirming and kicking as she yelped, trying to pull free. She had a very shapely ass, like I said, and her pussy was completely shaven. She'd had laser hair removal, in fact.

Now I'm straight - mostly. I mean, it's not like I haven't had thoughts about exploring things with a girl before. Me and a few girlfriends had taught each other to kiss, after all - including Hannah. And I won't say we haven't engaged in a few giggly experiments before. But I hadn't really gotten into it.

And it wasn't any sudden lust for Hannah's pretty butt or pussy which drew my sudden thoughts in that direction. The truth is, I was enjoying having physical control over her like this, and her being half-naked was adding a kind of sexual element which suddenly caught my mind's attention.

Hitting Hannah in the normal course of events did not hold any attraction to me. Smacking a naked, squirming Hannah, whose breasts were mashed against my thigh was different.

"It doesn't even hurt!" she taunted.

"So I should hit harder?"

Hannah's room is a mess, as always. That's another way we're different. She's got clothes strewn all over the floor and on every table and dresser, not to mention hanging from her bed posts. There was a thin belt on her lower bed post. When I say thin I mean it wasn't much wider than my thumb. I reached out and grabbed it, then doubled it up and started using that on her butt.

It made a satisfying little whippy sound, and unlike using my hand, didn't cause me any pain. It also produced a satisfying result as her squeals grew in volume and she wriggled and twisted even more.

"You going to be a good little brat and give me the remote?" I asked.

"I'm not scared of you!"

"You should be. I looked at her reddening bottom and then at her pussy and then grinned.

"Maybe I should spank this instead."

I let the belt slap lightly against her pussy and she squealed really loudly.

"Don't you dare!"

"Bad pussy," I taunted.

I swung the light little belt down lightly against her pussy, again and again, letting it hit harder as she squealed and kicked and wriggled.

"All right. I give!"

She gave me the remote and I left.

But I was confused. I had found that oddly exciting. To the point I was disappointed when she gave in. My stomach was fluttering and my chest was tight and I could not for the life of me figure out why.

I'd never enjoyed hurting people before, except, of course, those who deserved it. And arguably she did. But I'd never gotten off on it. Of course, I'd never tried to hurt anyone in such a... well, sexual way before. But then I hadn't really thought about it as sexual at the time. Though, naturally, if you considered the idea of girls doing lesbo stuff with other girls, it sure was.

I had never seriously considered making out with Hannah. If I was a guy she still wouldn't have been my type because she was kind of a fluff head. If I was going to have a 'girlfriend' she'd be tough and cynical like me. Certainly tough and cynical were the kind of things I liked in guys. Cry in front of me and unless your mom just died you can forget a date.

My dad has these old private detective books written before I was even born. The detective is like six feet four, an ex-heavyweight boxer, and ex-cop, super tough and wisecracking who guns people down without a hint of regret - and is also kind and sensitive and a gourmet cook who quotes poetry and is a feminist and progressive.

There might be one of those in the world, but I wouldn't count on there being two. So I know that my views of what a perfect guy would be - which are pretty much the same as most girls - are more than a little unrealistic. Still, wimpy and naive are certainly not the traits I want.

Then again, I'm more forgiving of girls. They're not supposed to be tough and brave. That's what my mom would call an 'exceeds expectation' on a performance review. So that would be what I would be looking for if I was looking for a girl lover. And that's not Hannah.

Still, there's no denying she's pretty, with soft hair and a great body. She could use some more exercise to tighten up here and there, but she's in better shape than most girls. But her and me as lovers? That just didn't seem to add up.