Amanda Hamilton strode down the halls of her high school robustly. Her brown fur was shiny and wet, the result of her usual end-of-day workout.
It was twenty minutes to four in the afternoon, almost the end of the school day, and Amanda was getting ready to leave for home. She just needed to collect her schoolbag from her locker, and she’d be on her way.
However, due to the high demand for lockers throughout the school, Amanda couldn’t actually acquire a locker near the school’s PE building (they had all been claimed in record time at the start of the year), so her locker was inside the main building.
She didn’t mind this, though. Having to go outside and get into the fresh air to get to the main building helped to cool her down after some strenuous physical exercise.
Weaving her way against the throng of students who were headed towards the main school entrance, Amanda made her way towards a long row of beige-coloured lockers, wherein her personal effects lay.
Her locker was designated 21C, and this was a bit of a problem. The school’s lockers were in three rows: the top ones ended in “A”, the middle ones ended with “B” and the bottom ones ended in “C”. This meant that Amanda’s locker was practically on the floor.
And this meant that she would have to bend over to access it.
Amanda Hamilton had what you would call a “ghetto booty”. Her ass was a size that pornstars would pay out of their noses to possess, with big, round, firm cheeks that shook and swayed with her every step. Those big back bumpers were supported by equally firm and equally attractive thighs, which looked to be around a mile long.
Her ass also devoured whatever undergarments she tried to wear with the ferocious efficiency of a shoal of piranhas. Any kind of underwear instantly disappeared into her crevice, in what her sister Roxanne had dubbed “hungry-bum”. Even trousers and jeans could barely escape the pull of those cheeks, and if they were too tough to succumb to the vixens ass, then the tops of her beautiful mahogany buttocks would muffin-top over the waistband.
Kneeling down, Amanda slid her locker key into the lock, twisted it sideways, and opened the locker door to retrieve her things.
She may not have had eyes in the back of her head, but Amanda knew exactly what was going on behind her.
Boys passing nearby craned their necks to try and see if they could catch a glimpse of her crack. Jealous girlfriends tugged their boyfriends away from the sight of the chocolatey vixen’s monstrous donk. Many photos were silently taken on smartphones to be uploaded onto the internet, if the culprit was brave enough.
But Amanda simply ignored all of the attention her caboose was attracting from her schoolmates. As long as they all kept their distance and shut their faces (people who wolf-whistled often ended up not being able to work their jaws properly), then she’d let them get away with it.
Having gotten all of her affairs in order, Amanda began to straighten up.
Because she straightened her knees and then her back, there was a moment, barely a second, where she was bent completely over. Her big, bulbous backside stuck out around half a mile, creating an obstruction in the corridor, causing several students to quickly divert out of the way, fearing what would happen if they collided with her rear-end.
But there were two people who didn’t particularly care about these ramifications. They surged forward like a pair of striking cobras, casually batting away all those who didn’t automatically get out of their way.
Two large, rough hands shot out, and –
“Honk-honk!”
“Hiya, Hamilton!”
Instantly, Amanda dropped all of her things. She knew those thick, dunderheaded voices anywhere…
The two culprits were a pair of enormous bull brothers, the Howards, one jet black (Troy) and the other dusty brown (Hunter), each with one hand firmly place on one of Amanda’s vast buttocks.
The next few seconds happened very quickly.
Quick as a flash, Amanda’s right foot shot out behind her, and her heel caught Troy straight in the joy department. This caused him to let out a very high-pitched squeal, and his hand let go of Amanda’s bumcheek to cradle his crotch.
Surprised by the speed and force of the brown vixen, Hunter let go of her other cheek, but he was too slow to react to Amanda twisting quickly around.
Her right hand absolutely clattered against the bovine’s jaw like a freight train, sending the big bull staggering and spinning away, until he hit the opposite row of lockers and slid down into a seating position, clutching his face.
But Amanda wasn’t quite done yet.
Turning to face Troy, who was still doubled over and clutching at his nether regions, she literally grabbed the bull by the horns, and, twisting her (very wide) hips, thrust Troy’s head towards the middle row of lockers.
With a resounding CLANG, Amanda rammed the bull’s head into a closed locker door, piercing the thin metal with his horns. She let go of Troy, and he fell to his knees, his head still held up by his horns impaling the locker door.
This whole altercation lasted no more than 45 seconds, and it attracted quite the crowd of students in the corridor. They gathered around the scene, and, when the brown vixen had finished, a hush fell over them.
However, the same could not said for Amanda herself, who aimed some incendiary invective at Troy and Hunter:
“What’ve ye got to say f’r yersel’s now, ye pair o’ fuckin’ rentboys?”
“Hamilton!”
The loud voice echoed throughout the corridor, and the students whose attention had been on Amanda and the Howards now turned towards its source at the end of the hallway:
The headmaster of the high school was a badger called Mr Mangrove. He was a short, stout and stocky, with very little hair. Despite wearing a dark corduroy suit, Mr Mangrove still cut a rather intimidating presence as he slowly walked towards the fight scene, his golden eyes aglow.
The students who had been crowded around Amanda, Troy and Hunter now gave way for the headmaster, allowing him to see the scene for himself. A deafening silence fell as he took in Hunter, stirring against the opposite row of lockers; Troy, who was still kneeling headfirst against the dented locker door, and Amanda, who was standing tall in the corridor, her fists balled and her breathing heavy.
Clearly, the large-assed vixen was still aggravated.
“Alright Hamilton, that’s enough. Come with me.”
“What?! But sir, these two eejits…”
“Will presumably need to see the nurse. Now come with me.”
And with that, Mr Mangrove turned around and headed back up the corridor the way he had come. Behind him, Amanda huffed, picked up her bag off of the floor and followed the badger.
With annoyance, Amanda suspected that she was going to get a talking-to in the headmaster’s office.
God, his chairs are FAR too small…
“… am I gonnae have to speak with Mr Mangrove every fortnight, now?”
The 4x4 drove smartly down the street, away from the high school and towards the suburbs.
The car was basically a large box, made of square lines and shiny black body panels. It looked as though the person who designed it had only a ruler at hand, with a 5 pence piece for the wheels. However, it looked very sturdy, very rugged and dependable, and gave off the distinct impression of a vehicle that you would not pick a fight with.
In other words; it suited its owner down to the ground.
Rusty Hamilton sat behind the wheel, his hands loosely gripping its leather surface. He wasn’t driving as fast as he normally did, this time, and there was a reason for that.
“How’s this my fault, eh? If them two shitebags hadn't grabbed my arse, I wouldn't have had tae put my feet up theirs!"
Said reason was sitting in the front passenger seat, with her arms crossed so tightly that she looked like a Gordian knot.
Rusty glanced over at his daughter Amanda. Her face was set in a heavy scowl that could have set the young and the elderly scurrying for cover. Her brown hair was still matted with sweat from her workout an hour previously, and she was still in her gym gear.
Rusty sat back in his seat and sighed.
“Look, angel, I know they annoy ye, but ye canna jist beat them up…”
“Bollocks!” spat Amanda.” If you’d been there, you’ have turned ‘em intae burgers!”
That gave Rusty pause, and he thought about his daughter’s words, and how very right she was.
It had been said hundreds of times that Amanda Hamilton was like her father: headstrong, tough as old boots and as blunt as the end of a baseball bat. But she didn’t really have a softer side, or a safe way of taking out any stress she might acquire.
Rusty had been the same at her age, but learning the guitar, as well as discovering and adopting his little brother Ricky and joining his band had gradually worn down his tough outlook on life.
And when he’d met his goddess of a wife Aurora, gotten married and had three children, he had opened up completely…
But Amanda’s aggressiveness wasn’t the biggest problem…
Rusty didn’t even have to look over at Amanda to know that his daughter’s massive arse was filling up the whole of the leather seat that she was currently sat on, and its sheer size worried Rusty.
It was a target. A big, wobbling, jiggling target.
Rusty’s hands momentarily tightened around the wheel of the 4x4 with enough force to bend a steel pipe.
¬His daughter, his baby girl was being harassed by those big bull fuckers…
But his crushing, rage-induced grip had gone as fast as it had come. One thing he had learned since his teens was that not every conflict had to end with violence.
“Amanda, just because I might have done that when I was your age…”
“What was I supposed t’ do, smile and take it? Hmm? Just let it fester?”
Silence fell in the car again. Outside, the houses they had been driving past were getting fancier and further between. They were in the suburbs now, and getting close to home.
“Ye need an outlet Somethin’ that’ll take yer mind off this whole mess. A hobby of some kind.”
“Like what?” Amanda sighed. She seemed a little less angry, now that the subject had shifted slightly, away from fighting the Howard brothers. “Flower-pressin’ an’ stamp-collectin’s no’ very me.”
“Amanda,” Rusty asked, as the carturned into a cul-de-sac, and the family home came into view. “You ever considered trying wrestling?”
