| KENDRA STEELE: THE BREAK-IN Written by Steven Hey, everyone. It’s your girl Kendra Steele. I have returned with another story for you to enjoy. The following story teaches a lesson to all burglars out there: You break into the wrong person’s house, it’ll be your damn funeral. * * * * * I had returned home one night after a hard day at the dojo, sweat glistening of my silky mocha skin. I smelled more like month-old gym socks. True sign of a serious workout, I thought. I got undressed and headed straight to the shower. Apparently, as I showered, some smartass decided it would be a bright idea to break one of my windows and enter MY house (can we say: Fatal mistake?). The guy crept through the house, trying to take personal items that he thinks he could get some money off of. When he heard the shower running, he smiled and got an idea in his head. An idea he wished he shouldn’t have had in his pea-sized brain. I turned the shower off and looked at my gorgeous self in the mirror. My piercing blue eyes, my long flowing black hair, my perky DD chest, the whole package that is me. “Girl,” I said to myself, “You have been working hard tonight. Tonight, it’s time to release some serious tension.” I smiled, knowing what will come next, and opened the bathroom door. I left the bathroom when I noticed a trail of clothes leading to my room. I was confused about what I saw. These clothes aren’t mine, I thought to myself as I followed the trail. I entered the room and noticed nobody was there. Out of nowhere, the fool who broke into my house grabbed me from behind. The freak took a whiff of me and said, “Mmmmm. You cleaned up for me, baby? That’s so sweet.” He shoved me onto my bed. I got on my back and got a good look at the guy. He was six feet tall, maybe six-foot-two, bald head, Djimon Hundsou dark skin, brown eyes, very well-toned physique, and the guy was hung like a moose. Despite how cute the guy was, I thought he was going to kill me. He smiled and said, “I am going to truly enjoy this, baby. You just do what I say and nobody gets hurt.” Just then, an idea popped into my head. I pretended to play the damsel in distress and said, “I’ll do whatever you say, sir. Just please don’t hurt me.” He saw my black belt draped on the head board and said, “Put it on you.” I walked over to the belt and wrapped it tightly around my bare waist. “Excellent,” he said, “Now get on the bed.” I sat down on the bed, noticing his big package, and asked, “Could you do me a small favor?” “What’s the favor,” he asked. I stood in front of him and replied, “Close your eyes. I have a big surprise for you.” Having a feeling what he thought I had in mind, he grinned and closed his eyes. “No peeking,” I said, walking to the other side of the bed, “You ready?” He nodded. I leapt over the bed and delivered a hard flying side kick to his face, knocking him against my dresser. I followed it up with a roundhouse kick and a left hook to the face. The guy staggered back a few steps to the right, opened his eyes, and noticed he was bleeding. When he saw me in fighting stance, my foolish attacker said, “You stupid bitch. I was just going to fuck you. Now, I’m gonna fucking kill you.” He came at me, but I delivered a hard spinning back kick to his stomach, followed by a front kick to the chin, a palm thrust to his stomach, a crescent kick across the face, and a karate chop to the neck. He tried to throw a punch, but I grabbed it, threw him to the ground, and got him in an arm bar. As soon as he heard that elbow pop, he screamed in agony. “You had enough, bitch,” I yelled. He tapped like a drummer boy and I let him go. I sat the edge of the bed and said with authority, “On your knees before me, you piece of shit.” He crawled to me and I raised my right foot. “Worship it,” I ordered. “As you wish,” he said and began to do so. As I watched him sucking on my foot, I thought to myself, I have this sick freak at my mercy. I should just make him my servant, doing chores and servicing me. Hmmmmmm. On second thought, let’s just kill him anyway. When he finished, I put my legs on the sides of his head and gave him a head scissors takedown, slamming him to the floor. I stood on top of the bed, jumped high in the air, and planted both feet into his chest with enough force and pressure to kill him. I regained my composure and called the police. When officers heard my story and declared it an act of self-defense. They put a thing of plywood over my window and I asked, “What if someone else tries to break in as I sleep, officer?” The officer said, “Don’t worry, Ms. Steele. Meyers!” A male officer approached me and said, “Officer Byron Meyers. I’ll stay here for the night, ma’am.” “Thanks,” I said. The other officers left and I invited Officer Meyers inside. He removed his hat, shoes, and gun holster and placed them somewhere where he could find them. “So, Ms. Steele,” he said, “you beat that guy up yourself?” I slipped on a robe and replied, “With my own hands and feet, officer. He should’ve learned not to mess with a black belt.” “Black belt, huh,” he asked, “What degree?” “Second,” I answered. He said, “Same here.” I looked in the eye and asked, “You any good? Good enough to fight me?” “Is that a challenge, Ms. Steele,” he asked. “It is,” I replied, “By the way, the name’s Kendra. I challenge you to a sparring match, au natural. All we’ll wear are the proper sparring equipment. I have some in my training room. The winner does what they wish to the loser. You interested?” “Very,” he said. “Excellent,” I said, “Because I’m dying to see what lies beneath the uniform.” * * * * * Will Kendra beat Officer Meyers? We’ll find out in: Kendra Steele: Sparring Match |