Busting her father's bodyguard.

Chelsea Ellsworth was a lucky girl, her father Charles was the founder and CEO of Ellsworth Inc, a fortune 500 technology company. She was 18, with wavy brown hair, she was attractive but not a knockout beauty. Well defined cheekbones, a slender nose and a sharp chin with thing lips. She used her father's money and resources to explore her personal interests, namely: martial arts and mischief.


Today she was engaging in the latter, as she walked down the sleek white halls of a downtown skyscraper. Red lights flashed accompanied by a blaring alarm, but she barely even noticed. Instead she walked ahead with a smirk, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and pressing the call button for the elevator.


As she waited for the elevator a voice called out. "Hey! Don't move!" A guard shouted. He charged at her when the shrill 'ding' of the elevator rang out. Chelsea waved at the guard with four fingers, flexing them up and down in unison with a quick motion. She gave him a wink then slipped into the elevator. He banged against the metal doors as they slowly clamped shut.


Chelsea yawned inside the elevator as she waited to reach her destination, she wore a schoolgirls outfit, mandatory uniform at her prep school. A thin black sweater, plaid skirt paired with black tights and a pair of shiny black doc martens. The elevator dinged once again, Chelsea clicked her heels together as the doors slid open. The corridor ahead blocked by her father's personal bodyguard, Warren.


"Ok, Chelsea. Hand it over." He ordered.


"Umm, no." Chelsea said as she slipped past him, he spun around, she walked backwards, still facing him.


"Why are you stealing from your dad?" He asked.


"Ugh, does it matter? I'm gonna go. Tell him to call me." She laughed as she turned around.


"I can't let you leave with the prototype." He said, grabbing her shoulder.


The smirk left Chelsea's face as she went completely cold, annoyed he had laid his hands on her. She immediately rotated her body, breaking his hold on her as she drove her knee up into his stomach. The wind was forced out of his body as he leaned over, grasping his torso.


"Warren, sweetie. That's gonna be the least painful thing I do to you if you don't knock it off. Just fuck off and tell my dad you tried. Last warning."


"I can't let you-" He said as he stood back up straight.


Chelsea launched a quick jump kick, in a flash her doc marten introduced itself to his nuts. Soft cartilage squished against her swift foot as the force flattened them into a shape they were never meant to take.


This knocked the wind out of him even more effectively than the knee to his stomach had, but more importantly he was in shock. He couldn't believe she had kicked him there, Chelsea was so delicate and innocent. Or at least she appeared to be. But in one simple move she had completely disabled him.


"Why..." He asked, trying to catch his breath.


Chelsea watched as he leaned against the wall for support. "I told you last warning. I will not hesitate to kick you in your prized possessions."


Warren tried to lunge at her in a surprise attack. Chelsea saw it coming from a mile away, she spun on the balls of her feet, her back facing him as he collided with her. His eyes widened, in a perfectly planned move she kicked back and up, bending at the knee, her heel smacking right into his testicles.

Waves of pain washed over him, everything fine for a second followed by pulses of pain and blurred vision as the impact of her blow radiated outwards. There was no way this little girl was beating him so easily, so efficiently.


Chelsea spun around on the balls of her feet again, this time facing Warren with her thumbs under the straps of her backpack. "Still standing after 2? Impressive, the boys at my krav maga class go down at one."


"I thought you... got banned... from krav maga..." It was taking ever ounce of strength for him not to vomit.


"Yeah. For kicking my instructor in the balls, keep up." She laughed.


"Why are you like this..." He asked, trying to buy time as he gathered his strength to attack once again.


"My dad's an absentee father billionaire. I'm a spoiled brat. The sound guys make when you get hit there is funny. It's not complicated." She said, crossing her arms.


Warren lunged forward, swing wildly, Chelsea was caught off guard, managing to dodge as the wild punches cut through the air inches away from her face. Warren was frustrated, without even trying she was rendering him completely useless. Somehow, the last punch managed to barely tag her, catching the side of her mouth as she leaned back. Warren froze.

Chelsea held a hand to her mouth in shock, she pulled it back to see the smallest drop of blood.


"You made me fucking bleed." She said, almost laughing like she was happy. Her eyes flickered wickedly.


"I'm sorry-" He tried to beg.


He felt his balls explode in pain as Chelsea leaped forward, her hands firmly grasping his shoulders. He instinctively covered his stomach even though he immediately knew that's not where she was going to aim her next strike. Lower.

Her knee shot up like a piston, her skinny thigh somehow driving it up into his delicate area. He felt her boney knee smash into his groin, covering more area than her heel or kick could, trapping them both in place and crushing them flat.

Both of his hands shot down, covering his balls as a quiet guttural noise left his throat. he slammed to his knee with a thud, looking up at Chelsea who smirked, knowing he was done. How was she enjoying this so much?

He had no strength left to fight back as she placed the bottom of her foot on his face and pushed, knocking him onto his back. The daze cleared up as he felt Chelsea use her feet to spread his legs wide open as he laid on his back, staring up at the buzzing ceiling light.


"Move your fucking hands." Chelsea ordered.


Every part of his body didn't want to obey, but he knew she would have her way regardless and maybe if he complied she'd be merciful. As expected the moment his hands moved away he felt the toe of her doc marten press into his crotch.


"Do you want to have kids, Warren?"


"Yes... Chelsea, please don't."


"With me?"


"What?!" he shouted, completely taken aback by her answer.


"I'm fucking with you. But you do have a nice pair of nuts. Anyways, if you want to ever have kids you better take a message to my dad."


"Whatever you want..." he groaned as Chelsea began twisting the toe of her shoe in a whirlpool motion, grinding his nuts.


"You tell daddy that I want a car. A new one. Nothing under 75 thousand and only in either black or white. I want him to triple my weekly allowance. And I want him to pay for my vacation to Hawaii with all my friends. Understood?"


"Yes Chelsea." he said, praying she would end his suffering.


She looked up and pointed to a security camera above them. "And I want the security footage of our "fight" if it can even be called that. My friends are gonna love it. Then and only then can he have his fucking prototype back."


"Yes, Chelsea, anything you say. You're in charge." He begged.


"Good." Chelsea said, withdrawing her foot and practically skipping away down the hall.


Warren was left to contemplate having to tell his boss he had failed, deliver him a list of orders and the idea of a group of girls watching a video of another girl effortlessly kicking him where it counts.

Things were not looking up for him.



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