Downfall of the Dealing Diva Girls

Who knew what made the two college girls bold enough to try and sell drugs at

that

club in

that

part of town. The two Police Officers called to the scene would wonder about this along with many other things after the club security had fully informed them of the situation. Obviously the perpetrators of the attack had scattered ahead of the Police lights, leaving only the two twenty-one year old disgraced college girls in the middle of the club car park.

The aspiring criminals, 'Pink Socks' and 'The Red Hood', as the Police would laughingly dub them, weren't talking for various reasons. Pink Socks because of the baggie of weed roughly fished out of her sock by a female Officer and the Red Hood because she was still in mute shock at the way she'd been humiliatingly owned in public.

Quite why the two 'victims' thought it would be wise to strut into a poor, predominantly black, ghetto neighbourhood and front it out could only really be chalked up to the foolishness of youth. Yet motive was still something of a mystery to the Cops as they tried (without success) to find the rest of the jacked college girls' clothes and engage the blonde (the only one petulantly coherent...) about their drug dealing activity in the area.

Brittany and Selina certainly had a tough reputation, but only amongst the college kids they sold party drugs to. They did indeed think of themselves as quite the pair of badass bitches. The number one duo of drug dealing Divas on campus. Admittedly, nobody was keen to mess with them. They had a reputation for taking no shit. Brittany was the brains of the operation and Selina the brawn. Despite the fact that they were in no way compelled to sell drugs by desperate economic circumstance, the duo still had ample motivation. Firstly, they loved getting high on the weekends and were sick of chasing sketchy characters around town for drugs. Secondly, they loved to be in demand and were positively addicted to the edginess that they believed dealing drugs afforded them. And thirdly, the illicit financial returns didn't exactly help pay for their education, but it did buy them the sort of luxuries that would ordinarily be out of reach for a couple of middle class college girls with student loans accruing.

Brittany was white with shoulder length dirty blonde hair. She wore a freakish amount of make-up and was perpetually clad in pink and white. A girly girl with predatory eyes. A perpetually bratty bitch-face expression was the main obstacle in the way of being described as a natural beauty. Fleshy and buxom, but just the

right

side of what she'd consider chubby. Cold and calculating, Brittany was the entrepreneurial brains of the outfit. She played the lead to Selina, a lean, leggy Latina with lots of fire in her. A nasty bitch. Tall, tough and she'd been a bully in the school yard. That Selina was from a family of MMA fighters and herself planned to make it as a professional fighter after college only intensified her dysfunctional need to dominate. Her face, a pinch of Shayna Baszler meanness with a little Selina Gomez softness...if Selina Gomez's nose had been punched to puggishness and her ears lightly cauliflowered from grappling. Selina was muscle for the physically soft, but psychologically manipulative Brittany, not that their combined talents were ever really needed in the pursuit of dealing to social studies students.

They met Tavon at a downtown club. Cute black guy from the wrong side of the tracks. He charmed Brittany, but left Selina resolutely unimpressed. Being around him made white girl Brittany feel a little dangerous. Hanging out with a guy of his - self-proclaimed - ghetto credentials made her pussy tingle. The trip to the ghetto club was his idea. He said that they'd make a bundle selling their Molly to the neighbourhood folk. Of course, the girls didn't actually need hood rat money. There was more than enough cash to be made on campus. But Tavon wasn't selling them a new market to deal drugs to. No. He was selling them a little ghetto danger. Brittany couldn't resist.

"They good people..." Tavon assured them.

Brittany and Selina exited the cab filled with confidence and bluster. The girls each took one of Tavon's arms. Brittany's pink painted duck lips pouted up a storm to the black crowds who hooted and hollered in the parking lot. People were everywhere. Groups lounged on vehicles that farted out distorted bass music.

Brittany wore a garish neon pink and bright white gangster girl suit ensemble. It looked like something out of a particularly tasteless rap video. A pink fedora sat upon her shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. She had orange tanned skin and a pretty - but ever petulant - made-up face. Mouth painted thick with pink lipstick, a fat cigar was clamped between her artificially dazzling white teeth. She wore a white blazer over a neon pink fishnet top. Her big titties were held aloft by a visible pink strapless bra. Brittany was buxom and a little fleshy in all the right places. White flared pants hung over stiletto heeled, pointy white boots.

Selina strutted in an equally tacky black fedora. A severe, but no less attractive face. Black aviator shades covered her eyes. A garish glossy purple bob sat beneath the hat. A shiny purple blouse plumed out beneath a pin-stripe black blazer. Straight pin-stripe trousers rested on a pair of black, suede, platform ankle boots. The stacked heels lent her elegant, toned body an even more statuesque appearance.

As they strutted across the large lot, Selina smelt trouble long before Brittany was even aware that there could be a potential problem. Groups of loitering black girls regarded the two college girls with undisguised scorn. Guys jeered and talked shit. Brittany kept up her duck lipped pout and sucked on her prop cigar obliviously. Then she looked to Tavon... The motherfucker looked scared, but before he could utter a word regarding what scared him so, a group of five thuggish looking guys stepped up to him and the two college girls.

"Pee Wee! You bitch! We got some unfinished business! You better get your sissy ass over to my car!" Shouted the biggest and meanest of the bunch.

Before Tavon could even object, the group were hustling him away from his companions.

"S-sure, no problem guys. Brittany, Selina! I'll see you in the club!" he mewled in a higher pitched voice than either of them had ever heard from Tavon before. Brittany now realised that something was indeed up.

Pee Wee?!

Perhaps Tavon had sold himself as being slightly more dangerous than he actually was...

The group hustling their ghetto chaperone away were visibly shaking him down and slapping him around as they went. Brittany and Selina strutted on non-plussed and unsure of what to do amongst the crowds of overtly malevolent looking black party goers. Still they kept up the collective cool, calm fronting, as they both reasoned that to look in any way apprehensive could attract more unwanted attention. Despite their unsteady nerves regarding what had just happened to Tavon, something else seemed especially...off. Selina knew that it wasn't just because they weren't black as a few token trashy looking white folk loitered in the lot amongst the blacks and they weren't being hassled.

Brittany knew that she'd have to be the one to make a decision. Selina would just follow her lead. They could either go into the club or get the fuck out of the area. She was on the verge of telling Selina that they should leave when a hard shove to the back sent Brittany stumbling forward. She managed to stay on her pointy booted feet, but her hat tumbled off and her cigar shot from her pouting lips.

"What you bitches doin' up in this hood?"

Selina turned in rage to confront whoever had pushed her friend. The wiry black girl in a vest, short-shorts and flip-flops scowled back at her.

"What choo gonna do Ho?!" She roared at Selina before stepping to her fast and thereby countering any move that the fighter dare make. Selina was ashamed to feel herself flinch, as the black girl laughed out loud and turned her attention back to Brittany. A gang of equally fucked up looking female hood rats stood behind their skeletal ring leader.

"Let's just go in." Brittany hissed to Selina. The brains of the operation now knew that they were in imminent danger and their only salvation lay in the hands of the club security. So Brittany left her hat on the floor and tottered urgently onwards with Selina close behind.

"What choo say skank!?" The skinny girl screeched at Brittany. Before the blonde drug dealer could take another step, a number of hands pushed her forward, almost taking her down once more. One of the chasing group pulled viciously on her hair.

"Owww, what the fuck!" Brittany whined out loud, unable to hold her tongue.

"We know what you doin' here Ho. Comin' into our hood and dealing drugs without cutting us in?" A cooler voice spat into Brittany's ear from behind.

"We gonna teach you a lesson and take all your shit!" Parped the skinny one. Scowling black girls overtook the pair of dealers and surrounded them. Girls got up in Brittany's face, blocked her way and immediately started talking shit and verbally tearing her down. Brittany knew at that moment that Tavon had lured them there to be jacked. It had to be a set-up.

Other previously uninvolved party goers started to take notice. They knew that something was going down. Word spread throughout the crowd. Guys started shouting out lewd insults. Filming phones were brandished. Brittany began to feel particularly afraid. Why were they just picking on her? She selfishly wondered.

Brittany felt a blow connect with the back of her head. The soft punch spurned Selina into action. So far she'd been unmolested by the gang of girls, but the lifelong bully knew that a beat down was on the cards and she'd have to act quickly or fall. So Selina bent down swiftly and sought to pull out the little flick knife that was poked into her left platform ankle boot.

"Hell no!" Somebody shrieked behind Selina. A flying kick to the side took her down hard. The foot connected with her left flank and the weight behind it sent Selina sprawling onto her front. Selina's hat toppled from her glossy purple hair, while her sunglasses dashed onto the tarmac and splintered. She tried to scramble up, but her angry assailant wrenched on her left foot, pulling Selina back down again.

"What choo got there?"

Before Selina could utter a word, powerful fingers wrenched on her ankle boot zip. Another vicious pull spilled her socked foot from the platform boot and caused the knife to tumble out. Eager hands quickly scooped up the flick knife.

"Oh no, you didn't!" Selina heard her attacker roar in a booming voice.

"Fucking back off!" Shouted Selina impotently. She turned over and sat up. The Behemoth towering over her was quite a sight. Angry, black, morbidly obese and clad in a bright yellow velour track-suit. Selina was strangely conflicted as to what was the most troubling aspect of her assault. Was it the imminent possibility of a nasty gang beat down? Or the humiliating loss of her platform boot? Indeed, a few spectators were already cackling and pointing at Selina's debooted foot. The bright white nylon no-show sock sat sweaty beneath her ankle and beamed in stark contrast to her otherwise dark attire. The boot immediately vanished into the growing crowd.

"This cute lil Ho actually tried to pull a knife!" boomed the Behemoth back to her crew. Shit had definitely escalated.

A small fiery part of Selina was raring to get up and fight, but a larger part of the cowed bully wanted to curl up into a ball and hope that the bad shit passed her by. Unfortunately for Selina, she put just a little bit too much stink into the stink eye aimed at her humongous attacker. Didn't they know who she was? What she could do to them with her fists and feet?!

"So you wanna get up and do something, huh Ho?! Let me help-" Selina screamed in shame and frustration as a quick, fat hand grasped her hair and...wrenched the garish purple Nicky Minaj style shoulder length bob wig from her head. The fighter silently cursed Brittany for encouraging her to wear the wig over her own straggly unkempt black hair. Motherfuckers roared as Selina's hands instinctively went to the black fishnet wig cap and the straggly tied back mop of kinky black hair underneath.

Despite the moment of mirth, her assailant wasted no time in ripping off the wig cap and getting a grip on Selina's slightly greasy black hair. The MMA prospect barely got to swing her heavily ringed fists, as the Behemoth began tossing the Latino bully around like a ragdoll...

Brittany had seen Selina go down and to her eternal shame moved faster towards the club. Self-preservation dragged Brittany away from her sprawled out friend. Then it happened. Cold metal pressed against the nape of her smooth neck. Brittany's assailant then wrenched the shocked dealer to a halt by her tussled blonde hair.

"Your girl just pulled a blade. You both done fucked up. Now you better do exactly what I say, or I'm gonna blow your bimbo brains out all over this fucking lot. Understand?" It was the same cool voice that had referred to the drug dealing. Again her mind turned to the treacherous Tavon...or Pee Wee as he was obviously known in the ghetto.

"W-whatever you want. Please...just don't shoot me..." Brittany whined, all cool had evaporated as soon as the gun metal had touched her bare flesh. She knew that the gun toting assailant wasn't the wiry string bean who had earlier pushed her. This so-far faceless woman sounded less shrill. No shouting. No outrage. Cold and mature. Steel backed up every word. She was only there to rob the dealers.

"Now get face down on the ground." Brittany was almost hyperventilating, as she silently clambered down onto the warm evening tarmac. Her white suit was immediately soiled, but the humbled dealer had very little immediate concern for the state of her attire. Not once during her descent did the gun barrel loose contact with the nape of her neck.

"Where the Molly at?"

Brittany hesitated. Despite being more than willing to give the Gunwoman anything she wanted, the shrewd dealer harboured an embarrassing secret. Unfortunately, the baggie full of drugs was hidden within a very...intimate item of her clothing. As a precaution against any over-zealous club security, Brittany had temporarily hidden the baggie in her panties. But if Brittany explained exactly where the drugs were hidden, what was her assailant likely to do to get at those pills? Brittany was temporarily paralyzed by indecision. Her hesitation was construed as defiance.

"A bullet in the head ain't motivation enough, huh? I can tell you scared, so you must just be too stupid to do what's right." The cool voice spat into her ear. Brittany stuttered nonsensically and peed in her panties a little.

"Get this dumb bitch's boots off and turn out her pockets?" The Gunwoman calmly intoned to her underlings. The surrounding girls hooted and hollered at the prospect. Brittany couldn't see exactly what they looked like, but she guessed that the skinny one who had punched her was among them. Eager fingers wrenched up her flared pant legs and searched for the zips on each of Brittany's pristine, white stiletto heeled knee boots.

"P-p-please! I'll tell you!" Squealed Brittany, as she realised that her reluctance to tell had totally backfired. Unless somebody came to her aid, those ghetto ghouls were gonna take away everything to get at those pills!

Despite the tacky, pointed boots stretching up to each of Brittany's tanned knees, the cackling scavengers had no trouble in accessing and quickly wrenching the zips down. Brittany was then swiftly separated from her prized stripper boots. Two thin and sweaty neon pink, ankle high pop-socks were revealed to the hooting crowd. At least they matched her outfit...

"White girl getting jacked for her boots!" Shouted an excitable female voice in the crowd.

As the boot thieves seized and searched for any sign of contraband, another couple of rabid sets of hands darted into Brittany's blazer and pant pockets. Money, cards, phone, a vape pen, lipstick and keys were seized. Brittany brattishly squawked and kicked her bright socked feet to the mirth of many. The dealer had to try and reason with them, but the gun was still pressed to the back of her neck.

"They're in my panties. Please can you just let me get them?" She pleaded quietly in utter desperation.

"Too late little girl. We'll get there eventually." The Gunwoman giggled for the first time and pressed the weapon harder into Brittany's neck.

"And you gonna shut the fuck up while you get jacked or you'll die here today." The steel was back, quickly eclipsing the ugly giggle.

"Strip off her pants and her jacket."

"No! Somebody help me!" The dealer idiotically blurted.

The painful kidney punch robbed Brittany of both voice and movement. The Gunwoman leered in close to her ear again.

"What the fuck I tell you about shutting up!!! You really wanna die here?!"

"...no..." She just about managed to moan in submissive agony. Brittany was sure that death was imminent, such was the pain in her side and the furious spite that impregnated her assailant's sudden outburst.

"Well keep your pretty mouth shut bitch!"

Self-preservation won out and Brittany kept her mouth shut. Only the occasional whimper, whine and miserable, humiliated sob slipped from her lips, as those same cold fingers began pulling apart her sleazy lil suit...

When the Behemoth realised that her tough little plaything thought herself a fighter, the process of destroying the badass college girl became something of a party game. Cheers rang out as she systematically slapped the fight out of the usurped bully. Selina cussed and swung her fists, but it was no use. Her efforts only elicited more laughter from the Behemoth and spectators alike. Around and around she was flung and slapped, every time Selina failed to find her footing, another blow knocked her off balance. Her real hair was a greasy pulled upon mess, utilised again and again to toss Selina about with. It didn't help that she was stumbling around in one high platform ankle boot and one thin sock. The height disparity forever kept Selina stumbling. The Behemoth also succeeded in ripping away the smart suit jacket and un-tucking the shiny purple blouse.

"Come into this hood with them fucked up puffy ears and pull a knife? Are you crazy girl?" The attacker's jibes were easily as painful as her meaty slaps. They also elicited mocking hysterics from the cruel assembly of spectators.

"Fuck you!" Selina screamed. She was exhausted, humiliated and a getting increasingly scared, but still she possessed a modicum of defiance. If only the fat bitch would let go of her hair, she'd have some chance of landing a punch...But Selina wasn't the one destined to land a punch. One of the Behemoth's meaty fists let go of Selina's embarrassing mane and landed a breath stealing blow to the dealer's ripped belly.

"Ooooof!" Selina was lifted from her feet and landed painfully on her bony ass again. She fought for breath and lolled upright in a distressed daze. Fighting in the Octagon and in the ghetto were two very different things. A few tears suddenly began to break through the bad girl exterior. Her own tacky wig sat on the tarmac beside her. Selina's shockheaded kinky hair was out of its rubber band and pointing idiotically in all directions. Winded, emotional and running low on fight, she uselessly tried to cover her terrible hair-do in shame.

SMACK!

The backhand dragged Selina from her daze. Her left cheek throbbed.

CRACK!

This time Selina's right puffy ear took a painful punch and the former mean girl cried out instinctively.