Violence Warning/Disclaimer: This story depicts scenes of violence and/or their aftermath. Readers who are disturbed by or sensitive to this type of depiction may wish to read something other than this story.
Sexual Violence Warning/Disclaimer: This story depicts scenes of sexual violence and/or their aftermath. Some readers may be disturbed by this type of depiction and anyone who is sensitive to this particular issue may wish to read something other than this story.
Love/Sex Warning/Disclaimer: There are blatant discussions, references and description of sexual relations between consenting adults. You must be over the age of 18 and it must not be a crime to read material of this nature at your present location. Some of the scenes depicted are explicit. If this bothers you, you should find other reading material.
Language Warning: The language is representative of street language. Therefore is quite vulgar. You must be over the age of 18 and it must not be a crime to read material of this nature at your present location. If this bothers you, you should find other reading material.
Note: My thanks to my beta reader Katia for her wonderful help in writing this piece.
A special thanks to the new love in my life, Shuana, for putting up with all the late night writing and all the time not spent with her.
Part 11
The bowling alley pro was measuring Brie's hand span so he could drill the fourteen-pound ball that she picked out. Zan was looking through the collection of bowling shoes trying to figure out which pair would look best on her social worker. She decided on a pair of sea-green shoes with red bowling pins on the heels.
Zan found a matching bowling bag to go with the shoes and added it to the pile of accessories that she had already placed on the sales counter. The tall teenager then noticed a bowling towel that said, "Bowlers Do It In Their Spare Time." It made her chuckle so she added it to the growing stack of purchases.
While the pro was drilling the ball, Brie causal picked up the towel and smiled. The young blonde walked over to her lover and put her arms around the teenager's waist and whispered suggestively, "Have we only been doing it in our spare time?"
Zan faintly heard a comment from the pro, "Damn, Dykes."
The green-eyed blonde felt the sudden tension in her young partner and knew that a confrontation was about to start. She too had heard the comment, but had chosen to ignore it. The blonde social worker desperately tried to convey caution to her raven-haired love, but the dark teen was incensed.
The blue-eyed teen fixed her menacing gaze upon the young man drilling Brie's new bowling ball and ordered, "Go get Max."
The brown-haired teenaged boy knew he had made his comment too loudly. He knew he was in trouble. There were several hundreds of dollars of purchases on this counter and Max hated losing sales. Quickly the young pro apologized, "There's no need to call Max. I'm sorry about what I said."
Zan smiled and replied, "I know you are, but go get Max, now. Or... I walk and leave my purchases behind. Oh and uh... I have two bowling shirts here for pick up."
David knew he was sunk. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he slowly went to get Max. He knew that Max was going to fire him and it was all the damn dyke's fault.
Max was the largest man Brie had ever scene in person. He stood all of 6' 9" and must have weighed 400 pounds. He came in and saw Zan and smiled. He came over and hugged her like a long lost uncle. The young pro winced at the show of affection. He was convinced he had lost his job.
Max released his embrace and said, "Alexandra, your Papa would be so proud of how good you look."
A tear ran down her cheek as she replied, "Papa would be more proud of how well his brother has done."
Max beamed at the comment from his wayward niece. He noticed the protective stance of the young blonde who was holding his niece in a manner to give her support. The big man was not stupid and he knew love when he saw it. So the dark giant asked, "Well, are you going to introduce your lover to your only family or not?"
The dark teenager smile broadened as she answered, "Uncle Maximillian Agair this is my lover and my soulmate, Brittany Cainteoir."
Brie blushed at the introduction and a little surprised at meeting Zan's family that she didn't the young woman had. So the young blonde hastily added, "You can call me Brie, Mr. Agair."
The giant man laughed and went over and pulled the amazed social worker into one of his patented bear hugs and said, "You will call me Uncle Max. You're family now. I hope you can calm down this one and make her settle down."
Before Brie could answer, the giant's niece interjected, "She already has Uncle Max. I'm opening the restaurant next Saturday and she's got me in therapy."
The big uncle was impressed. He had tried for years to get his niece to accept therapy, but she had always steadfastly refused. This woman was good for his niece and he wanted her to feel welcome so he said, "Thank you, Brie, you make an old man happy. I was about to give up hope for my Alexandra, but she finally found what she needed.
So, what can I do for you? David says there's a problem."
The young man flinched. He knew his job was finished; he had insulted the owner's niece. What other result could he expect? He was determined to go out professionally though and returned to drilling the young blonde's ball.
The tall teen grinned and said, "There's no problem Uncle Max. I just wanted you to meet Brie. You're going to be seeing us regularly. We've joined the Friday Night Mixed League with Paul and Carl. You remember them."
"Oh yeah, how could I forget the two faggots that had Rachel chasing you with a kitchen knife," replied a laughing bowling alley owner?
Zan winked at her uncle and said, "Now, you're going to give Brie the wrong impression about me."
The giant uncle answered, "No, I'm not and I'll bet she already knows."
The young blonde laughed and decided to join the lighthearted ribbing of her young lover and added, "I know, but she's not as bad as she'd like you to think."
The dark man smiled and said, "You are so right, Brie. I like you. You must come to dinner tomorrow night. Rachel will want to meet you that's for sure."
Zan cleared her throat and asked, "Are you sure? I thought Rachel would still be mad about the last time. That's why I haven't brought Brie to meet you before."
The dark giant got a serious look on his face and said, "Honey, you are my only family besides my Rachel. She knows that. You are always welcome in my house."
The young man was very grateful and relieved. The woman could have had him fired and he knew it. She didn't; she had shown him kindness and consideration that he hadn't deserved. So, to show his appreciation, he made the minor change the tall teenager requested in the name he was putting on the ball.
Brie and Zan were sporting their new bowling shirts. They had a bowling ball hitting a rack of pins for a strike and a team name on the back. The team's name was Slow Motion. Brie didn't know why and when she asked, all Zan would say was, "You'll see."
She had really loved the inscription on the ball. She knew it was the dark teenager's idea though the raven-haired woman denied it. It read, 'Zan's Brie.'
It was just the way she felt about the teenager. They owned each other's hearts and each of them knew it. They knew that they could not return those hearts and that they owned each other for eternity.
Zan and Brie rolled a practice game before the guys arrived. Zan insisted that Brie get used to her new equipment. Additionally, Zan wanted to give her young lover some further pointers in the fine art of bowling.
Zan used the practice game to practice her spares by hitting spots with each of her rolled balls. Brie sat and watched her young lover roll the ball with mechanical precision and wondered at the concentration that was involved with her exhibition.
Paul and Carl arrived and greeted Brie and shushed her so she wouldn't disturb the tall teenager and announce their presence. They marveled with Brie at the grace and economy of each of her rolls. Carl looked Brie and winked. He had seen her in action before and knew the sensuality of the dark gang leader in action.
After the raven-haired teen rolled her last ball, Paul announced, "We're on seven and eight. Met you there. We got the first round, what's your poison?"
Brie replied, "Heinie."
Zan answered, "Sprite."
Carl was making out the lineup card, when Zan came up and handed him a beer. He put Brie first; he always liked to put the weakest bowler first. He put Paul second, who averaged one-sixty-two and carried twenty-two pins of handicap. Zan explained handicap to her blonde lover, "See, this is a one-ninety/eighty league. You get eighty percent of the difference of one-ninety from your average as handicap. Here let me show you."
The towering teen turned over a flyer for midnight bowling and started writing as she said, "See, Paul has a one-sixty-two average. Now if you subtract one-sixty-two from one-ninety, you get twenty-eight. Then you multiply by eighty percent, which gives you 22.4. The decimal is dropped so Paul gets 22 pins of handicap. You got that?"
Brie was amazed Zan was doing some fairly complex mathematics. The young social worker decided to explore this revelation a bit. The green-eyed blonde asked. "Honey can you tell someone's average from their handicap?"
The dark teenager brightened as she elaborated on the topic by saying, "Sure, look you take the handicap and divide by eighty percent. So if you got a handicap of say twenty-four, you get thirty when you divide by eighty percent. Then you subtract thirty from one-ninety, which gives you an average of one-sixty, of course you could be one or two points higher, cause the decimal point is dropped."
The strawberry blonde filed this new information away. She'd have to talk to Cassie about it. Something was holding her young lover back and she didn't think it was a lack of education.
The green-eyed blonde was brought back to reality by a question from her tall raven-haired lover. Zan asked, "Do you want me to show you how to score."
Her young lover's enthusiasm was contagious so Brie listened intently as the blue-eyed teen explained the intricacy of scoring a game of bowling.
When the other team arrived Brie couldn't help but notice the abrupt change in her young lover. The black-haired teen's shoulders slumped and she became very quiet. Brie was about to ask Zan about her mood change, when she got her answer from one of the opposing bowlers.
He was about an inch shorter and thirty pounds heavier that the reticent teenager. He yelled, "Well, if it ain't the queer squad. Heard about your games the other night, Zan. You don't have the balls to do that in league play."
Then he pointed looked at Brie and chuckled, "Well maybe you do."
The enigmatic teenager rewarded him with a half-smile and a glare as she replied, "Still an asshole, I see Mitch. You and I both know that a three hundred game is mostly luck, but tonight I feel an eight-hundred series coming on."
The brown-haired bowler retorted, "An eight-hundred series, my ass, you're all talk, Dyke."
Before her lover could respond, Brie looked at the stout man and calmly challenged, "A thousand says she does it."
The corpulent man swallowed hard and said, "That's kind of steep."
Brie's eyes sparkled as she smiled, "Now who's all talk? I tell you what we'll make it a hundred against a thousand or are your balls only in your mouth?"
The heavy-set man winced at the insulted and started to step towards the smaller woman, only to encounter a much larger and very menacing woman blocking his way. He looked into the sullen teenager's eyes and took two steps backwards. He stammered, "You got a bet, Bitch."
Zan's eyes narrowed and turned very cold as she said, "Mitch, you can call me anything you want, but you disrespect my lover again and they will not have enough left of you to autopsy. Do you understand me?"
The angry man saw no give or understanding in those cold eyes and could only nod affirmatively, because talking had become very difficult. The dark young woman smiled menacingly at the man and said, "Good, now let's bowl!"
As the black-haired young woman sat next to her older lover, she said, "You got a lot of faith in me, Baby. Giving ten to one odds on my bowling an eight-hundred series. I really do love you."
Brie blushed to her toes and shrugged as she answered, "I love you, too. Besides, he pissed me off. Ah, Honey?"
Zan sat down and pulled out her shoes to put them on. As she tied her shoes, the dark bowler absently replied, "What?"
Brie asked quietly, "What's an 800 series?"
Zan was stunned. She couldn't believe the faith her lover had in her. The tall teenager knew that a thousand dollars was nothing to the young woman, but the enigmatic young woman was still moved that her blonde lover would not only come to her defense, but go on the offensive as well. The raven-haired teenager had to bowl an eight-hundred series just to justify Brie's faith in her.
Zan calmly explained, "Baby, I can't believe you mad a blind bet like that. An eight-hundred series means I will have to bowl a total of eight hundred points for a three-game series. That means I have to average a two-sixty-seven to get an eight-hundred series."
Zan patted her lover's hand and said, "That ain't easy."
Brie smiled as only she can and replied, "Honey, don't worry about it. I know you. You'll do it just to spite the son-of-a-bitch."
There was no answer to that. It was the truth. Zan had two good reasons to bowl an eight-hundred series and usually she only needed one.
Zan kissed Brie on the check and whispered, "Don't be nervous, just remember what I showed you and concentrate. Relax and have fun."
The golden-haired woman picked up her new blue ball and slid tentatively to her standing mark. The young blonde eyed her rolling mark and focused on it, one step, two steps, slide and release. The ball rolled straight at first and then passed right over her rolling mark. As the ball lost momentum it broke at a curved angle towards the back of the head pin and slammed into the pins. The pins scattered unfortunately when the five pin was driven back by the ball it stayed upright and the ball was deflected straight back, so that nothing hit the seven pin and it remained standing.
A pair of blue eyes caught the young bowler's attention and said loudly to her lover, "Easy pick up Baby. It's your normal strike ball, pretend like all the pins are still there."
The green-eyed blonde wiped her hands with her towel and smiled at what it said. She shook her head to clear it of several erotic images and refocused her attention on her next shot. Retracing her previous steps, the rookie bowler picked up the spare and the game was afoot.
Brie realized by the third frame that her team was better and that Zan was obviously the best bowler. She also knew why the team was named Slo Motion. Paul took his time getting ready to bowl. He did everything from retie his shoes to checking the crease in his pants before he would line up to bowl. Then his approach was like watching a normal bowler in slow motion. Then when he released the ball he would stand there holding his follow through while watch his ball slowly roll down the lane.
Carl was very good too and he and Zan seemed to have a good-natured rivalry going on. However, when Carl failed to strike in the fourth frame and Zan did, he seemed upset so the young social worker decided to ask Paul, "Are they always so...intense?"
Paul laughed and replied, "Don't sweat it girlfriend. Both of them hate to lose and Carl has never beaten Zan. He really wants to best her once. When the game's over they be bestest buds again."
The young blonde thought about it for a moment and realized it was her turn after a gentle nudge from her opponent. She really liked Nicky. She wasn't as hostile as the other bowlers weren't. She wasn't that great of a bowler, but she was friendly. The mouse-haired petite woman was getting slightly frustrated when she kept missing by just a little bit. Bried decided to ask Zan if she could help the small brown-eyed bowler.
As Brie picked up her ball, Paul called out, "Beer frame, darlin'"
Zan replied, "Don't worry about, she's a rookie. We don't make rookies play."
The young woman's green eyes searched her lover's eyes and knew she was thinking something different than the teenager was saying. So, the strawberry blonde put down her ball and asked her younger lover, "What is a beer frame?"
The raven-haired teen knew her partner she was a social animal and would insist on participating. She didn't want her friends taking advantage of her lover, but the tall young woman knew she would have to explain and with that explanation, her green-eyed love would insist on playing the game. With reservations, Zan replied, "The beer frame is the fifth frame and the bowler that does the worse in the frame buys a round of drinks."
Brie laughed and said, "Is that all? Of course, I'm in. Zan, lighten up, you had me worried I was committing some egregious bowling social error. Really, honey, it's only money."
Brie ended up buying the round, but she loved doing it. This was fun. She was in her element, socializing. Everyone was enjoying the company of gregarious blonde with the bright and intelligent green eyes. Even the Neanderthal Mitch was warming up to the friendly young bowler.
Brie had every intention of talking with her dark lover about Nicky's game, but it seemed the young woman's game came around and the opposing bowler seemed to be happy. So the blonde social worker decided to leave well enough alone.
Her team had easily won the first game. Mitch was angry. He obviously hated losing and her took every opportunity to blame Nicky, his wife, lane conditions, bad luck, anything to deflect fault from himself. It transparent that Mitch thought himself perfect and without blame.
Brie was a little concerned over her score. It had been the lowest on her team. The young blonde knew she was a novice player, but her outgoing nature demanded that she fit in well with her team. Additionally, her lover's opinion of her mattered so much. So the green-eyed bowler cautiously approached her lover and said, "I'm sorry, Honey, I'll try to do better in the next game."
The stoic teenager chuckled and said, "Baby, you are doing great a one-fifty-eight for a new bowler is fantastic. You are a natural. When you learn how to control your loft and vary your ball speed, you'll be a scratch bowler."
The term confused the older woman and she asked, "What's a scratch bowler?"
Paul answered the question by saying, "It means zero handicap, Girlfriend."
Nicky was not starting out very well in the second game. Her first four balls all failed to hit the head pin. By the eighth frame, Brie could see the despondency in the young woman's brown eyes. They made eye contact and Brie smiled and mouthed the word, "Concentrate."
Nicky's expression became more demonstrative and she concentrated on each motion. Her release felt good and she rolled a perfect strike ball, only to leave a solid ten-pin. Brie gave the young brunette an encouraging fist. The young blonde social worker looked at Nicky's teammates and saw the disappointment and rejection of her in their eyes. That galvanized her determination to help the poor young woman.
Her preoccupation with Nicky's game and trouble had cause Brie to be oblivious of how good her game was going. Through seven frames, she had seven spares. As she rolled her first ball of the eighth frame she heard her partner whispering to Carl, "It looks a strike, too bad it will mess it up."
However, her lover's prediction was incorrect. The eight rocked in place and remained standing. Brie easily picked up the spare and decided to go ask her dark love, why she thought a strike was going to mess up her game. The unrestrained blond plopped unceremoniously next to Zan and asked, "Why would a strike have messed up my game?"
Zan replied, "I didn't want to make you nervous, but you are doing something that is very rare. You are rolling an all-spares game. It gets you a patch to wear on your bowling shirt. I've never seen anyone roll an all spares game."
Brie felt a surge of nervousness and her concern for Nicky was replaced with concern for herself. The young blonde desperately wanted to impress her teenage lover, and she knew that this could do it, which made her even more nervous. The more she thought about the more nervous she got.
Brie stood at the line trying to concentrate on this ball. Her mind was wondering as she thought about missing this shot, about rolling the ball into the gutter and about the disappointment in a pair of blue eyes should she fail. Her legs just wouldn't move, because fear was gripping them.
Brie stepped back from the line and put her ball down. She couldn't look at Zan though she desperately wanted to. Finally she looked back and caught Nicky's eyes and saw encouragement in them. The green-eyed blonde took a deep breath and toed her mark.
The young social worker closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The nervous bowler positioned herself and went through her routine to release the ball. The ball rolled true, but hit a slightly oily spot, which caused the ball to flatten a little bit. The ball hit the head pin too low and the five and seven pin were left standing. She rerolled the same ball and easily picked up the spare.
Emotions well up in her stomach as she went back to her seat. Her raven-haired lover handed her a beer and smiled, "Relax, you're doing great."
Nicky got another spare and sat down near the nervous Brie. The young brown-eyed woman cleared her throat to get the Brie's attention. When the strawberry blonde looked up, Nicky said, "I wish I could bowl as good as you."
It was all Brie needed to get re-ignite her need to help the young woman and forget about her next shot. Zan was about to take her turn, when Brie asked, "Can you help her?"
Zan looked at the small mouse-haired woman and replied, "Baby, she's the opposition"
Then Zan noticed the pleading in her lover's eyes and modified her reply, "But if she wants my help, I'll give it."
Brie smiled at her young lover and patted her leg. The young blonde felt a hand slap her on the butt and she turned to see a smirking teenager. Green eyes flashed a warning as the young social worker said, "Paybacks..."
The light butt slap had done its job, Brie had loosened up and rolled a good first ball and had an easy pick up for a spare. Brie looked around and found her lover saying something into the scoring table microphone. Brie figured she was ordering a round of drinks to celebrate.
Everyone, including her opponents, cheered her success as Brie heard an announcement over the PA system, "Brittany Cainteoir rolled an all-spares game on lanes seven and eight. Congratulations, Brittany."
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Continued in Part 12...