Hyena Girl

Authors Note: All characters in this story are over 18 years of age. Any and all sex acts described are done so by consenting adults. I would like to thank everyone who provided me the research material necessary in writing this story.

Special Thanks and Credits: I'd like to thank WintersCaress for the wonderful illustrations which truly brought my characters to life. Thank you NewOldGuy77 for all of your diligent efforts in editing my work, and ensuring it's coherence. And finally, a special thank you to AlexBailey for all the help and motivation you gave me while writing this, as well as your invaluable help with my final scene. You were all wonderful to work with, and made this story possible.

10:55 p.m., what am I still doing here? I thought, lighting one more cigarette as I debated starting my Jeep.

It was Friday night, and instead of being at my station hard at work, my shift was cancelled. This was the third time that week, so my check was going to suck, a common occurrence since the pandemic started. It wasn't the money that bothered me. I was nearly twenty-one, still living at home. If I wanted to earn some real money, I would've stopped making rubber hoses at the Avon plant, opting instead to work the drive-thru at McDonalds.

All over my town of Cadillac, Michigan, there were signs plastered in the windows of the various fast-food joints advertising their fifteen dollar an hour starting wages. Factory work had become a dolt's game. Why work your ass off for ten hours a day, six days a week, when you could earn three or for dollars an hour more for less hazardous work? For me, the motivation came from my partner Kate, the cute little redhead fresh out of high school.

What was bothering me was the idea of going home. As I previously stated, I still lived with my mom and sister Liz. Unfortunately, so did my mom's latest mistake, Gary. He was always quick to tell me to get my shit together, to get off my ass, and to take responsibility of my life.

The funny thing was, Gary hadn't had a job in six years. With no job, he was always available to mock me, calling me queer-bait, and saying I looked like a girl, all the while pounding Busch Lite like it would grow his teeth back. Gary was the textbook redneck asshole, very political, despite the fact he'd never voted. He did, however, have his trusty red ball-cap which perfectly disguised his balding head while giving him a true mullet look.

I glanced across the parking lot, watching as wave after wave of employees went in only to leave pissed off a few minutes later. Standing by the door was Ashley, Ron, and Ellie. They were the cool kids. Every factory has them. The people around my age that were not only competent, but also gave no fucks about their jobs. They said what they wanted, did what they wanted, and no one seemed to care because they were top performers.

I was never one of the popular kids. I wasn't an athlete. I was too short, slender, and I barely weighed a hundred and sixty pounds wearing my work boots. I was never a rebel, at least not without a screen name to hide behind. As Ron always put it, "Face it, dude, you're the Homeschool Kid."

Ashley and Ron were nice enough people. They were always good for light banter and the dirtiest jokes I'd ever heard. They started dating shortly after I started at Avon. They're the type of couple who'd spend their entire day drinking only to finally crash two hours before a shift, and by some miracle never miss a beat, or fail a drug test. There was no way I'd keep pace with them, no matter how many times they'd invite me over to hang out, I was always a straight arrow. I didn't drink, didn't smoke weed, and made it a point to show up for work clean and on time. As for Ellie, it was Ashley who got her the job, putting her working at the press next to mine.

I'd known Ellie since middle school. We had the same homeroom both freshman and senior year in high school. Despite this, we'd only spoken twice before I started at Avon with her as my trainer, the first time being our senior prom. We were both stood up by members of the upper echelon. I asked her if she wanted to dance to which she simply replied, "Not anymore."

The second time we spoke was when I found her crying beneath the bleachers. I asked her what happened, and she told me to fuck off. Neither of us were popular; I'd spend my days getting called 'Bitch Lips' and doing whatever I could to not stand out. Long before I graduated, I'd sworn off all social media just so I could have five minutes of peace. As for Ellie, she was the infamous Hyena Girl, sworn enemy to all the popular girls, and top trending joke to the guys.

It was a weird nickname, Hyena Girl, not one I'd ever had the balls to ask her about. Even given the dozens of shifts I'd spent working neighboring presses, many nights I'd help change her dies while she pretended to do the paperwork. From what I knew, hyenas were ghastly creatures, equally ugly and shunned. Ellie, on the other hand, may not of had the body of a porn star or model, but she was by no means hideous. She was the textbook example of a 'girl next door' type.

Her features, while attractive, were far from extraordinary. She had long, dirty blonde hair, usually tied back in a ponytail. Her shape and curves were rarely visible, usually hidden beneath her baggy cargo pants and not-so flattering uniform top. Ellie had a beautiful face, however, she never wore make-up, and after an hour of work, was coated in sweat and grease like everyone else.

On multiple occasions, I'd caught myself staring at her full lips and greyish hazel eyes. But most of all, I noticed her ears. I figured they were the reason for her unfortunate moniker. Either that or some bizarre laugh I was yet to hear. Her ears themselves were larger than most, sticking out a little further than what I thought was normal. They were nothing off-putting, but I'd see the popular girls in school destroy someone's self-esteem for much less.

"SHIT!" I shouted, startled by a sudden knocking on my driver side. 'Was I nodding off?' I wondered, still startled while I rolled down the window.

"You jacking-off, Homeschool?" Ellie asked, standing alongside my Jeep.

"What the fuck!?... No. And stop calling me that." I demanded, sitting up to meet her gaze. "We went to the same school. I'm not a pervert," I continued while Ellie cackled. Her laugh, not at all hyena like.

"I don't see what one has to do with another, MARK." Ellie uttered, fighting through her laughter. "I was only playing. Why so angry? Shifts canceled, so you gotta do something to fill those hours," She added pointing to my crotch, only pissing me off further.

"Fucking cringe, Ellie. What do you even want?" I asked fidgeting with my keys.

"What are you still doing here?" Ellie smiled leaning on the door. "You know, once they call 'Out of Work,' you can leave. You don't have to stay until eight."

"Yeah. I know." I grimaced, wanting nothing more than to be done with the conversation. Putting the keys in the ignition, I hoped she'd get the hint and move on. As much as I dreaded going home, the prospect of being trolled without pay, was just as unappealing. "I just wasn't expecting to have the night off, and there's nothing much going on," I added.

"Right on... can I get a ride home?" Ellie asked, taking a step back.

"What? Can't Ron take you?" I asked as I started the Jeep.

I watched as the smile faded from her face. She then drew a deep breath, looking to Avon's locked door, the hordes of disenfranchised workers either inside or long gone. Ellie turned back to me her face soured. This had been her default expression for as long as I'd known her.

"They're staying to do cleaning, and I don't wanna spend my night sweeping the same floor over and over with Billie breathing down my neck," Ellie grunted, shifting her attention between me and work. "I just thought you'd help me out. I don't know, maybe even hang out. It's not like you got anything else to do."

"Hang out? You dis me every night. You're the one who told Kate people called me Bitch Lips in school, and now she's doing it too like it's funny," I argued.

Ellie chuckled softly, she'd been smiling since I mentioned Kate. "Oh, lighten up, I could always tell her I caught you jerking off in your car to her Facebook. We're friends on Discord, ya know," she stated with a gleam of pride and a devious smirk. "I was just asking for a lift, and if you wanted, drink some beers, play some Call of Duty, you know... fun."

"You gonna try to blackmail me for a ride?" I asked incredulously, my voice cracking. "Besides, I'm not twenty-one until June. I can't drink," I added, fastening my seatbelt, and starting the Jeep. "You don't want to hang out with me, you just want a ride."

"Fine, we can hang at your house," Ellie persisted, "and as for drinking, you're not old enough to smoke either, not until June," she said mockingly. "You know what, never mind, she groaned, walking away.

"Wait." I called out, stopping Ellie in her tracks. She turned back, facing me with a somber expression. I could've just gone home. It wasn't like we were friends; we were barely coworkers. Still, I found myself feeling guilty. I'd forgotten the sadness in her eyes, the years of teasing, and the bullying she's endured. "I'm sorry, my mom's... entertaining company. Otherwise, I'd let you wait for Ron and Ashley at my house," I added.

"Oh, yeah, gotcha," she mumbled, her gaze wandering around the parking lot. "Well... some other time. Have a good night, Mark," she repeated, turning to walk away.

"I'm sorry for being a dick," I blurted out, once more causing her to turn back. I then released the door locks, seeing her eyes briefly widened at the sound. "I can take you home, if you want," I said, trying to sound nice, but feeling defeated.

She must've known what I was going to say, because Ellie was already making her way to the passenger side while I offered the ride. I sat silently, avoiding contact as she hopped in, but still caught the light scent of her floral perfume; I'd been this close to her before, but it was usually after several hours of work in a shop filled with the stench of heated rubber and steam.

This had been the single longest conversation we'd ever had. It occurred to me I'd known Ellie for almost nine years yet knew virtually nothing about her, short of a mean nickname and her current circle of friends. She, on the other hand, seemed to know plenty about me. Her trolling began the night Kate started working at Avon. She knew what games I played, girls from other schools I'd asked out, and a ton of other things.

Turning out of the parking lot, I followed Fourth Avenue to West Thirteenth Street. "Where am I going?" I asked.

Ellie leaned over the dash, her eyes shifting from left to right. "Tustin, but I was hoping we could stop for drinks and snacks on the way," she answered, pulling out her hair tie.

Tustin was a pin prick on the map between Cadillac and Reed City. It, like Dighton or LeRoy, was the kind of small town that only neighboring communities knew about, where a Trump flag was planted on every lawn, with one stoplight between its handful of streets. I'd driven by the exit hundreds of times but never had a reason to pass through it. It wasn't terribly far, roundabout ten miles. Even with all the lights between, it was barely a fifteen-minute drive. Ellie, meanwhile, said nothing while I drove through town.

As wave after wave of light from the streetlamps washed over her face, I caught myself stealing glances at her. A mild tingling developed in my fingertips, along with a sudden urge to fidget in my seat. The truth of it was, aside from my mom or sister, I'd never had a girl in my car before; I was a virgin, in every sense of the word. I'd never been kissed, had a girlfriend, or made it beyond a first date. Not that I'd ever say so aloud; my coworkers weren't bullies, but they weren't exactly the kind of friends that would let me live that particular revelation down!

"You want anything? My treat," Ellie offered as we pulled into the gas station.

"No, thank you," I smiled, raising my Thermos.

"Uh huh, cool. I'll be back, so don't leave," she teased before jogging inside.

"Smooth, Dweeb." I grumbled to myself while I attempting to sip from my Thermos. Unfortunately, the cap came off, soaking my chest and lap in lukewarm coffee.

This was embarrassing enough had I been alone, but of course I was giving a girl a ride home. With each second I spent unsuccessfully juggling the Thermos, the cup and the lid, I'd grown increasingly flustered. Peeling off my shirt, I used it to sop up the spilled liquid pooling in my seat, all the while wondering how I could've forgotten to screw on the lid! It didn't make sense; I'd already taken a few drinks from the Thermos without any problems. Hurriedly, I popped out of the Jeep, giving the seat one final swipe before wringing out my shirt and tossing it over the headrest into the back.

I glanced down, assessing the mess. The white V-neck I wore underneath my uniform had been thoroughly drenched, now clinging to my lean belly and pointed nipples. It also looked as if I'd peed all over the crotch of my pants. The situation went from bad to worse when, just as I was preparing to get back in, Ellie returned with a twenty-four pack of beer in one hand and a full plastic shopping bag in the other.

Ellie's eyes were wide at the sight of my condition. Her mouth gaped, she looked as if she could barely contain her impending laughter. However, after seeing the look on my face, she reeled herself back in. I started to get back in when she yelled "Hold up," while loading her stuff in the passenger side. I paused, watching with confusion as she ran across the front, peeling off her uniform top, and revealing a stained white tee underneath.

"Put this on your seat," she offered, handing me her shirt, "sorry I can't offer you anything else."

"Thanks," I muttered embarrassingly, catching a glimpse of her nipples through the pale fabric concealing her breasts. I took the shirt and laid it carefully over my seat. Just then, I remembered my cigarettes, always kept in my breast pocket. By that point, they were soaked in coffee and crushed from the clean-up. "I gotta get another pack of cigarettes," I announced, my eyes irresistibly drawn to Ellie's chest. I wasn't trying to be rude, I was just... fixated.

"Newport Red, right? I gotcha a pack inside. Least I can do," the blonde girl said gleefully, heading back around to the passenger side.

"Um, thanks. You didn't have to, I mean, it's no problem taking you home," I stammered, slinking back in the driver's seat.

Sure enough, my accidental passenger had left a pack of cigarettes and an orange Gatorade (the same kind I drink every shift) in my center console. I should've been happy, or at least grateful for the gesture. I'd insisted I didn't need anything, then my coffee magically spilled all over me, ruining my cigarettes.

My thoughts nagged me; I was sure I'd tightened the cap before I left the house, just as I was sure I drank from the Thermos earlier in the night. The thought that Ellie would resort to sabotage was inconceivable! Why would she have done something like that after I'd offered to take her home?

I immediately dismissed the idea. If she'd done that, I'd have seen it, I thought to myself as I buckled up, I was sitting right next to her! If she'd messed with it, I'd have seen her do it!

My self-assuring reverie was interrupted by Ellie, shouting "Hey Mark!"

I quickly looked up, dumbfounded by the sight of two perky breasts with pink nipples staring at me from under Ellie's raised shirt. They weren't huge, roughly the size of oranges, but they were real and only a foot or so away, putting them leagues above anything I could find on my phone.

Her shirt had been up for only a few seconds, but it was long enough to erase any thoughts going through my head. Even after she'd covered back up, I could see the faint tan lines from last year's brief summer. Ellie was smiling from ear to ear, as was the driver of the car beside us. My heart racing, I was at a loss. I'd never taken flashing seriously, thought it was just an urban myth, something people never did in real life.

Recovering from my shock, I started the engine. "Ellie, what the hell was that about?" I demanded.

"They're called tits. You've been staring enough, so I thought you'd appreciate them," Ellie laughed, as she buckled in. "I'm not picking on you, dude. I just thought you needed a little pick-me-up. Admit it, you're not even thinking about your shirt now, are you?"

"Okay, yeah, I'm not thinking about my shirt. I was just surprised is all," I admitted, trying to hide my smile. Turning the wheel and hitting the gas, we started back on the road to Tustin.

"I'd hope it was a surprise. I mean how many boobs do you see in a day?" she teased, laughing.

"Like real boobs...or?" I started, triggering Ellie to laugh even louder. "Those were my first," I blushingly admitted, then to save face I added, "unless that includes the internet, then, God only knows."

"Nope, not going there," she countered as she drew two cigarettes from the pack, lighting them both before handing me one. "Look at us, Bitch Lips and Hyena Girl having a fun time. And to think, you almost left me stranded to get raped and skinned by some traveling carnies or some shit. Aren't you glad I changed your mind?"

"I changed my own mind, thank you," I countered, knowing full well she was right. Still, I felt myself smiling. While I had friends growing up and spent plenty of weekends gaming from sunup to sundown in their basements, sometimes even losing entire days socializing in game over a mic and headset, this was way different. Thanks to a few minutes with Ellie, this was the first time I ever felt cool, like one of the popular kids! Refocusing on our discussion, I added, "I hate that fucking nickname, you know? I mean... Bitch Lips, really? What the fuck?"

Shaking her head, Ellie shot back, "Oh yeah, like Hyena Girl is so much better, especially the mocking weird laugh people did as I passed, or the jock straps in my gym locker." She angrily blew parallel streams of cigarette smoke from her nose. "Gotta own that shit, Marky. It's a compliment, really. There's women in Beverly Hills paying plastic surgeons thousands of bucks for pouty lips like yours. Besides, most of the assholes who mocked us are just as broke-ass as we are, already past their peak. So, fuck em'!"

"Wait. Some assholes put jock straps in your locker?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.

She nodded, "Yup. I'll explain it to you some time. Why kill the buzz now?" she replied. "I kinda wish I had some more cash. Had I known you had virgin eyes, we could've hit Coz's, given one of those girls a nice tip to give you a lap dance," she snickered, staring out the window.

The rest of the drive was quiet with only brief exchanges regarding work, as well as giving me instructions on where and when to turn. Before I knew it, we were on Cass Street in Tustin. Like me, Ellie lived in a trailer, only hers was a rundown single-wide with a dilapidated front porch and multiple broken windows. It was past midnight when I pulled in, putting my Jeep in park. I sat patiently while she collected her things.

"Coming in?" she asked, opening the door, flooding the Jeep's interior with dim light.

"I don't know, it's already midnight, and I need a shower," I told her.

"Oh, come on, Homeschool, you work nights! Any other Friday night, you'd be in Avon until 7:30 a.m." Grabbing her beer from the floorboards, Ellie gave a quick grunt. "Oof! You'd think this was a keg, not a pack," she declared. Jerking her thumb over her shoulder, she told me, "Come on, dude, you can shower inside. I gotta washer and dryer for your uniform." Giving me a quick look up and down as if assessing my body, she added, "I'm sure I can find something in my closet that'll fit you in the meantime."