A Question of Fate - Cover

A Question of Fate

Copyright© 2019 by Submissive Romantic

Prologue

Romantic Sex Story: Prologue - Sometimes no matter what you do things have a way of working out.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Fiction   Military   FemaleDom   Oral Sex  

David Richardson slammed his locker door shut; he had just enough time to get to his homeroom before the late bell sounded. Not that he was really worried; after all, it was the last full day of the school year. They just had three half-days next week and school would be over. He turned and took one step down the hall before he was practically bowled over by his neighbor and best friend, Awilda Colone.

“David, I’m glad I caught you. Can you do me a huge favor? The guy from my father’s dojo who was supposed to help me with my demonstration this afternoon called me this morning to tell me he can’t make it today.”

“Hi to you to,” he said with more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “What do I have to do?”

“It’s simple; you just have to follow my instructions and try to attack me while I show the girls how to protect themselves.”

“No way; the last time I fought you I ended up with my arm in a sling for two weeks and walked around school with sun glasses trying to hide my black eye. Do you know how embarrassed I was having to tell everyone that you beat me up?”

“Oh stop bellyaching, that was years ago; I said I was sorry didn’t I. Besides, it was your own fault. If you had just done what I asked you to do, I wouldn’t have been so mad at you and taken you up on your challenge.”

“When I said ‘make me’ I didn’t mean it literally.”

“Was it really so awful kissing me?”

“No, but back then you were just ‘Willie’, my friend from next door. I didn’t think of you as a girl, and I certainly didn’t realize how tough you were.”

“Please, won’t you help me; I can’t do this by myself? I promise I won’t hurt you. Besides, this time you might enjoy it.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it.”

“Great! Here’s your pass getting you out of your seventh period class. I’ll meet you in the gym. All you’ll need to wear is your gym shorts and shirt, no socks or sneakers. Thank you for doing this David; I really appreciate it.”

She was about to head back from where she came, hesitated, and then taking his head in both of her hands, she planted a toe curling kiss right on his mouth. She ended the kiss and ran down the hall before he opened his eyes.

The rest of the day seemed to drag by slower than normal. After his sixth period class he dropped his books off at his locker, and gave his pass to his teacher, who was more than glad to have one less student in her stifling hot classroom. He practically ran down the hall to the entrance to the boys’ side of the gym and into the locker room and was surprised to find the locker room empty. There was normally a gym class before his eight period gym class; where were they?

He retrieved his basket of gym clothes from the cage, found his usual locker, and began to strip. He dressed like he always did for gym, his jock, under his shorts and his gym shirt. He left his sneakers and socks in his locker, placed his basket on top of the locker and went in search of Willie.

He didn’t have long to wait. Five minutes later she came out of the girls’ locker room, dressed in her “gi” which reminded David of a white bathrobe and a matching pair of white baggy pants. What caught his attention was the black cloth belt holding the robe in place at her waist. He knew what that signified; that she was an expert at her particular form of martial art, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.

As she walked confidently across the gym floor to the large matted area centered in front of the two sets of bleachers, he couldn’t help but admire her. She was beautiful: about five feet eight inches tall, solidly built, with long dark brown hair pulled tightly into a pony tail. Her expression always gave the impression that she was in deep concentration until she smiled, then her whole face seemed to glow. Thanks to her Puerto Rican background, her skin was dark; as if she had a perpetual tan.

David was about five feet six inches tall. He was what the clothing industry called husky. Not that he was sloppy fat; he was just big all over. He was a good, but not great, athlete. He played football as a middle linebacker; basketball, a guard with a good outside shot; and baseball, a right-handed pitcher and right fielder because of his strong throwing arm. He could throw a softball through the goal posts of their football field and would have been their quarterback if he was quicker.

“Willie, remember your promise; don’t hurt me especially in front of all the kids. By the way, where are the gym classes that are supposed to be here now?”

“Didn’t you hear the announcement this morning? Everyone who has gym seventh period today, was to report to their eighth period class now and then come to the gym for the demonstration.”

“Great! Now about two hundred kids will get to watch me get my ass kicked by a girl. Maybe they’ll forget about it by Monday.”

“I hope not. This is great publicity for my Father’s Dojo. He hopes it will bring in some extra students for his summer classes. You should think about joining; then I could kick your ass on a regular basis,” she said with a gleam in her eye.

“We’ll see.”

“I’ve got a few props to help with the demo,” she said as she pulled out a rubber knife and a plastic gun from her gym bag. These will be yours. When I tell you I want you to threaten me with the knife or the gun. I’ll show them how to disarm a mugger with a weapon; first, a couple of times in slow motion and then at full speed. Then we’ll simulate a rape attack and a purse snatcher. And if we still have some time left, I’ll show them some advanced moves I’ve been practicing.”

David didn’t like the sound of this, but he kept his concerns to himself. Soon the bell sounded ending the seventh period and kids began filing into the gym, the girls on one side and the boys on the other, taking seats in the bleachers, and both gym teachers instructed their combined classes to fill in all available space. When the bell rang starting the eighth period Awilda began with a speech.

“Welcome, most of you know me and my assistant, but for those who don’t, my name is Awilda Colone and I represent the Colone School of Self Defense. I will be demonstrating various techniques of defense against would-be muggers, rapists and boys who don’t understand the meaning of the word ‘no.’” She paused while the both sides of the bleachers reacted to her last statement. “I will be assisted today by David Richardson, a good friend of mine who volunteered to help me. Let’s give David a nice hand.”

After a polite smattering of applause Awilda began her demonstration.

“The most important thing that you, a potential victim, must do is to set boundaries for yourself. If you are alone at night and you see someone approaching you, you don’t know what their intentions are until you set boundaries.

“Say something like, ‘Stop, don’t come any closer, stop.’ If he continues to approach you, you know he has bad intensions and you can react accordingly. You also have to judge what level of violence you should use in any situation. If you are at a party and one of your classmates has a little too much to drink and starts making unwanted advances towards you, you really don’t want to gouge his eye out or permanently disable him. You just want to get control of the situation.

“David move over there and start walking towards me.”

“Stop, don’t come any closer, stop,” she said in her authoritative voice. Then, addressing the audience: “Notice I’m backing away from him, but I’m also taking up a defensive stance. If he continues to approach me I know he has bad intensions. If he takes out a piece of paper and asks for directions. I tell him to stop, drop the paper, and back away. When he is safe distance away, I check the paper to determine its validity; if it’s legitimate, I tell him to keep his distance and help him if you can. If it’s just a ploy I prepare to defend myself and make as much noise as possible. Attackers don’t like audiences.”

Chapter 1 »

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