Summer Nights, Surgery, & Sukeban

By weekendwriteranon

Tonight was going to be one of those nights, I just knew it. The kind of night I had gotten all too familiar with over the last few years. The kind of warm summer night where the light doesn’t fade until near ten, and the chill doesn’t set in until near one. The kind of night perfect for fights. Any sort really, though gang fights were the most common. Not actual criminal gangs but more youth gangs. Loose confederations of delinquents united by school affiliation or geographic location, determined to prove their superiority over anyone that wasn’t them. If anything, it came off like a screwy mix of “The Outsiders” and Japanese Bancho/Sukeban culture.

Most people would think it’s unusual for a kid like me to know and care so much about these fights. After all, I’m a “straight A student with a bright future ahead of me” (at least that’s what the guidance counselor said at my last meeting), my parents are doctors and my mom’s a Unicorn. All in all, not the kind of guy one would expect to care about street fights between juvenile delinquents.

To be honest, until last year, I didn’t. But everything changed when I met her.

If one had to pick a word to describe Ms. Marianne Duvall, it would be “big”. I don’t just say that because of her height (she’s actually rather short for an Ogre, only being a few inches over my six-foot two instead of an entire foot, not counting her horns of course), but rather it’s because of her actions. Annie never does anything small. She’s got a big head, a big mouth, and a big ego that bruises easily. She also has a big heart, a big soft streak, and big… never mind. The latter qualities are why I love her, but the former are why nights like tonight make me sick to my stomach.

The clock next to my bed read 11:30 and I was beginning worry. Her fights didn’t usually last this long into the night. My mind began to race with possibilities. What if she’d gotten beaten badly and was laying in some alley with broken ribs? What is someone had brought a gun and shot her? I knew from Mom that monsters are durable, but not invincible. What if she was bleeding out with a bullet in her gut, crying out for me to help her? The minute hand moves agonizingly slow as I grapple with my fears.

It was around 12:15 that I heard a tapping at my bedroom window. Even from my door I could tell it was her. Familiar green skin and wild grey hair gathered into a bushy ponytail, one of her muscled arms rested on the window frame, showing off the tribal style tattoos she had gotten last summer. She perks up as she notices me and takes a step away from the window. Getting closer, I can see that her clothes are in tatters, some areas stained crimson with blood, either hers or her opponent’s. Her left cheek discolored and bruised and there are no doubt other injuries she’s hiding from me. Whatever happened tonight, it was worse than usual. I waste no time in opening the window for her.

“Hey doc,” she grunts, using the nickname she’d given me when we first met “I know it’s a little late, but you still take walk-ins?”

I crossed my arms across my chest, attempting to convey my displeasure as clearly as I could. “If you’re here for a check-up then perhaps we should start with your hearing,” I said, head craned to look into her amber eyes, “or maybe your memory since I distinctly remember asking you not to get into any more fights.”

“Yeah, you did tell me that, didn’t you?” She sighs, rubbing the back of her neck, “But this time was different! You expect me to let those stuck-up lizard bitches talk like that on my turf in front of my girls.”

“Lizards? Annie, don’t tell me you picked a fight with the girls from St. Martha’s Prep?”

“Yeah, so what if I did?” she huffed, crossing her arms. “Just because they’re from a Catholic school don’t mean they ain’t getting an ass whippin’ if they talk shit.”

“Them being Catholic isn’t what bothers me, what bothers me is that those girls are all dragons!” I shouted.

A grin grew on Annie’s face as she let out a low chuckle, “Yeah, they’re all dragons, that’s what made this fight so fun!”

“It’s fun, huh?” I deadpanned,

“Yeah, loads.”

“You think it’s fun for me to stay up all night worried sick, wondering if this is the night you wander in with a knife in your ribs or a bullet in your gut, if you get here at all?” I questioned.

The ogre’s smile deflates at my words, “Well shit, I didn’t know you felt that strongly about it…” She begins walking toward me a few shuffling steps at a time, bending her knees to put my face level with hers, moving forward to plant a kiss on my lips, which I move to accept. After a few moments, she breaks the kiss and moves back to her previous position.

“I’m sorry for makin’ you worry ‘bout me.” She said, her eyes cast down at the floor.

I couldn’t stay mad at her, even after all the times she ignored my requests, I can’t bring myself to follow through with my reprimanding. What can I say, even rational men become irrational with a woman in the equation. I try to keep up my stern façade, but drop it with a sigh. “Let’s get you taken care of before you bleed out.”

It had almost become routine by this point, walking Annie to my makeshift “office” I’d set up in the bathroom. First aid kits and other medicinal sundries laid out across every counter and shelf. At least she has her routine on these nights as much as I have mine, taking a seat on the rim of the tub and waiting for my instructions. I almost feel like a real doctor as I sterilize my hands and prepare for my initial examination.

“I’m going to have to ask you to take off your clothes.” I say, trying to sound as professional as possible.

A devilish grin crossed her face, “Jeez, can’t even wait until after you fixed me up,” I could feel my cheeks grow hot at her words, a fact she must have picked up on as her grin grew even wider, “I mean, I’m not opposed to fooling around all sweaty and bloody like this, I just didn’t know you were so kinky, Doc.”

“That’s not what this is about, and you know it!” I shout, my embarrassment reaching its peak.

She bursts out laughing at this, holding onto my shoulder to prevent her from falling backwards into the tub, “Man, did I ever tell you how cute you look when you’re embarrassed? I mean, even your ears turn red, I swear that must be a Unicorn thing.”

“I can let you bleed if you prefer.” I huffed.

“Alright, alright, I’ve had my fun” she said with a final laugh.

Almost immediately, the ogre begins removing garments one at a time. First the tattered, bloodstained remains of a shirt, the logo on the front unrecognizable from the patchwork of cuts and gouges. Pulling the shirt over her head, I get a full view of her upper body. Much like her arms, her abs do well at showing off her toned physic. A flat stomach with some defined musculature, completely contrasting with the generous breasts currently held back by a simple black bra. Other than her muscles, my eyes wander to the many scars that line her torso. “Badges of honor” she always calls them, trophies of fights well fought, and for me evidence of a job well done. It still fills me with dismay to see how many line her body, knowing there are more along her legs. As she slides down her jeans, lines of faded scars trail around her calves and thighs, confirming my thoughts.

I take a step back and close my eyes, mimicking my father when he makes a diagnosis, “Here’s what I can see. You’ve got some bites and scratches on your midsection, some more on your legs, and a nasty cut on your right arm that might need stitches.”

Annie recoils at the last part, we’d never had a session where I had to break out the needle and thread before. After a few moments, she closes her eyes and lets out a sigh, “Whatever you need to do.”

Turning towards the sink, I busy myself digging through various medical chests and first aid kits. One kit for the disinfectant, one kit for the bandages, one kit for the suture supplies. I begin by dabbing disinfectant onto a washcloth, making sure it soaks in before moving to apply it to the first of many scratch marks. Marianne is no stranger to pain given her history as a fighter, but every time I press the cloth to her skin, she gives a sharp inhale or quick hiss.

Things stay like that for a while, the only noise in the room being me wringing out the towel when it gets too stained and her noises as I apply the stinging fluid to her wounds. It’s a routine at this point. As I dab and bandage the last shallow cut, I turn my eyes to the deeper one on her arm. This isn’t going to be at all pleasant for her or me, but it must be done.

Putting away the towel and rubbing alcohol, I move to bring my face in line with hers, “All that’s left is the one on your arm.”

“Ah shit,” she sighs, “this is gonna hurt like a sonofabitch, isn’t it?”

I smile apologetically, “Afraid so.”

“Tch, You’re sure your folks don’t have any anesthetic laying around?

“My dad keeps a decanter of scotch in his study, I’d offer you that if I didn’t know you Ogres can drink a gallon of the stuff and only be mildly buzzed.”

Annie closes her eyes, “Fuck me,” she exhales, “and that’s not an invitation, smart ass.”

After that outburst, we lock eyes and say almost in unison, “Unless you/I want it to be.” After that, the room reverberates with the sound of our shared laughter.

Her laughter dies down to a low chuckle, “All right, I’ll be a big girl and hold still.”

“It’s going to hurt, Annie.” I caution.

She gives a soft smile, “Oh, I know, but I also know you’re gonna make it up to me later.”

“My pelvis is sore just from hearing that.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it,” she laughs, “but seriously, let’s get this over with.”

My hands are trembling as I take apart the suture kit. I’ve seen Mom and Dad use it dozens of times, and they’ve had me use it on the practice pad more than once, but this is the first time I’m using it on an actual person. I need to stay calm, go through the steps exactly as Mother showed me. First step, use the needle holder, holding the needle in your hands infects the wound. Second step, take the forceps and grab onto the skin on the patient’s right hand side, pull up so you don’t put the needle through muscle. Step three…

“I’m going to be putting the needle in, this is your warning to brace yourself.” I say curtly

Marianne closes her eyes, almost like a child getting a shot, even turning her head away with a look of apprehension on her face. It’s adorable how a girl her size, willing to fight dragons hand to hand, is afraid of the pain a little needle brings.

“Here goes nothing.” I mutter, bringing the needle towards the flap of flesh grasped in the forceps.

As the tip penetrates her skin, I hear the ogre let out the sharpest hiss I’ve ever heard her make. I can feel her body tense as I run the thread through the punctured flesh and out through the opposite side. With a quick movement, I wrap the thread around the needle holder three times, forming a hole where I can tie a knot. The hard part is over with, but the procedure itself is far from being over.

Several more times I drew the needle through her skin. Slowly but surely, the rend in her flesh began to close, pulled together by the thread. Though she had gotten quieter, I could still feel her wince whenever the needle entered her skin.

“You’re doing great,” I reassured her, “Only three more loops to go.”

The ogre says nothing but gives a curt nod as she bites her lip at the needle pushing through for the fifth time. The rest of the procedure passes quickly after that, at the seventh loop I move to tie off the other end and snip the thread.

“Okay, all done.” I say, exhaling in relief. Finally looking up at my green skinned patient, I notice her eyes are watering.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Is there anyone else home besides you?” she chokes out.

“No,” I answer, “My sister is over at one of her friend’s houses, Mom’s working late at the Hospital, and Dad’s out of town at some conference.”

“Good,” she says, taking in a deep breath, “BECAUSE THAT FUCKING HURT, GOD DAMN!”

I offer a good-natured smile and move to put a hand on her shoulder, “You did great, not many people could have held that in until the end.”

She begins playing with her hair, “Yeah well, you know me, baddest bitch in the school and I ain’t afraid to prove it.”

Silence passes between us for a short while, neither party making eye contact. I look at my watch, 1:50, this whole procedure took longer than I expected. I need to get to bed, but I have a promise to keep first.

Annie moves to get up, but I sit her back down with a hand on her shoulder. I see her eyes dart around in confusion, unsure of what I mean by this. With a deliberate movement, I reach behind her back and unhook her bra. Taking the two straps in my arms, I gently remove the garment from her body, her arms moving to oblige me in this task. As many times as I’d seen them, her breasts never fail to thrill me. Oceans of green flesh, blessedly free of the scars that adorned the rest of her torso. Nipples of bright pink that stood in stark contrast to the surrounding emerald skin. With practiced care, I reach out my hand to cup one of the heavenly orbs. And begin kneading and squeezing it in my palm. Annie is visibly perturbed by this, confused by my aimless fondling

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” she demands.

“Mammogram,” I answer, “Never too early to get one.”

“You’re fuckin’ joshing me, right?”

I feign an offended look, “Breast cancer is not something to joke about, there’s 300,000 cases a year in the US alone.” To make my point, I give another squeeze, this one causing her to let out a small gasp.

Locking eyes with me once more, I see a small smile grow on the ogre’s face, “I oughta deck you for this, but I guess getting a checkup couldn’t hurt. Just tell me if you find any lumps, okay?” Returning the grin, I set to work kneading her generous breasts with renewed vigor.

Things continue like this for a while, my hands roaming over her pristine chest, taking in the sensation of pliable flesh in contrast to the taught muscle surrounding it. At one point, I brush against one of her nipples, causing a squeak to issue forth from the green skinned girl. I look up at her, and almost swear I can see hearts in her eyes.

“W-well, I didn’t feel any lumps,” I say, beginning to back away from the amorous ogre, “I guess that means we're done he-“ My words are cut off as a hand presses on the back of my head, pushing forward and guiding my mouth to one of her cherry blossom colored nipples. There was no resistance from me as she placed my mouth on her breast, with me showering the erect nub with kisses and gentle licks as soon as I made contact. Every flick of my tongue coaxing a low moan from my veridian lover. As much as I tried to keep myself composed, I couldn’t help letting slip a few moans as I suckled her.

Sparing a glance up, I could see Marianne was at her breaking point. Biting her lower lip with her cheeks flush a faint crimson hue. She looked as if one more action could send her lust over the limit. And so, I decided to tempt fate, and reached down between her legs.

Only to have my wrist grabbed before my hand could contact her most intimate area. I could hear heavy breathing in my ear as she lowered her head to mine, “I don’t remember giving you permission to examine down there, doc. Wouldn’t doing that be a gross violation of your hypocrite’s oath?”

“I-it’s called the Hippocratic Oath” I stammer.

“Whatever it’s called, you were about to violate it,” she gets a wicked grin, “so I guess now I have to violate you.”

A few tense moments pass before I give a reply, “How long were you waiting to use that one, Annie?”

“Longer than you might think.” She says, hefting me onto her shoulder.

For how gentle she is to me normally, I often forget that she is still an ogre, but thus stronger than she looks. Though nothing serves as a better reminder than being fireman carried through your own house and getting dumped unceremoniously on your own bed.

Looking up, I can see her towering over my prone form, her panties moved down to reveal her sex and the feminine juices leaking from it. With need evident in her eyes, she pounces, dispensing with the meager covering that my pajama bottoms offered and freeing my member. Continuing her near animal assault, I feel her rough hands on my shoulders, pushing me back onto the bed. At the same time, her mouth meets mine in a bestial assault of lips and tongue that catches me unprepared. While I am still reeling from the above, I can start to feel something warm and wet teasing the head of my tool. Moving back and forth, sometimes teasing a few fleeting millimeters inside before pulling back once more.

Without warning, she bites down on my tongue, causing my hips to buck in surprise. In an instant, I’ve sheathed myself inside of her. We stay like that for a moment, savoring the feeling of being connected both above and below. But soon the offensive is renewed, as her hips rose and fell with a steady rhythm, the force applied enough to make the bedframe creak with every falling motion. The feeling on my hips was excruciating but offset by the pleasure of her folds. With each passing moment, her motions become faster, more forceful, though sometimes slowing down as if to prolong the experience as long as possible. As the act seemed to reach its apex, I could feel her fingernails dig into my shoulders. For my part, I simply wrapped my arms around her, tracing the scars that ran across her back.

Neither of us could find the words, our discourse reduced to grunts, moans, and heavy breathing. The one universal sign that we could both understand was her tightening around me, and a pressure building in my loins. With a few final and forceful thrusts into her falling hips, I come, releasing my seed inside of her. Her climax lasts a bit longer, a few more spasms before she collapses atop me, wrapping her arms around me and pulling my head into her neck.

“I… I love you.” I manage to breath out, though it’s obvious she’s fast asleep. I don’t blame her; she’s had a long day. It isn’t much longer before I join her, drifting to sleep with the smoky smell of her hair in my nose.

When I wake up, the sun is streaming through the window. My first instinct is to sit up, though as I do, I feel my movement restricted by one of Annie’s muscled green arms draped over my chest. The stitches from last night are still there, thankfully not popped despite how physical we got. As I gently move, her arm and crawl out of bed, I notice something on my desk. Marianne’s clothes, all put in a pile. Her jeans and underwear are freshly washed, and I can see a new shirt in the pile, a substitute for the ruined one she was wearing last night. On top of it is a sticky note, adorned with smiley faces and doodled flowers.

“If you’re going to have your girlfriend over, remember to tidy up the bathroom afterwards. You also should tell me she’s coming beforehand so I can get breakfast laid out in advance. Love, Mom. P.S. Tell Annie she can keep the shirt.”

I can’t help but smile, my mother truly is a saint. About halfway through getting dressed, I hear a loud yawn come from my bed followed by the groaning of mattress springs as my girlfriend gets out of bed. She takes a few steps across the room, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she does so, until a look of momentary panic crosses her face. She must have realized she’s not at her house.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty, you have a good rest?” I say, doing my best imitation of my mother.

She turns her head at the sound of my voice, her face softening as she sees me, “Oh, yeah, thanks for asking,” I motion towards the freshly laundered pile of clothes, and she quickly comes over and begins to get dressed, pausing for a moment to give me a tantalizing view of her nude body, “And thanks for last night.”

I smile at this, but also cross my arms in disapproval, “Anytime, though I wish I didn’t have to keep doing it.”

“Would you believe me if I said I am trying to cut down on the fights?” she asks, busying herself with putting on her bra.

“If that’s true, you must have a different definition of “fighting less’.” I scoff.

Silence passes between us for a few moments, the atmosphere turning tense before Marianne speaks again, “You know why I fought those girls from St. Martha’s?” she questions, staring into my eyes

I shake my head, “Forgot to ask you last night, you said they were talking shit?”

“One of the Queen Bimbos, some Jabberwocky, thought she was being cute and led her posse to laugh at us lowlifes,” she pauses to slide on the shirt my mother gave her, continuing once she’s got her head and horns through the hole, “The usual shit, “smelly, dumb ogre scum”, “greenskin trash”, “swamp squatter.” All stuff I’ve heard before.”

She pauses and takes a deep breath, “But then the Wonderland whore decided to hit below the belt,” her face becomes serious, “she said, ‘I heard your boyfriend is studying to go to medical school, it’s good to hear he’s preparing for his future with you, “physician heal thyself”, and all that.’”

“Oh” I gasp, understanding completely why the fight happened.

“It’s been over a decade since us monsters came to Earth and people are still spreading the lie about us ogres being husband beaters.” She’s finished dressing by this point, but doesn’t move, keeping her eyes fixed to the floor. “So, you want to know why I get in so many fights? It’s because I’m afraid they’re right, I’m afraid that if I don’t take out all that anger and aggression on other people, I’m going to snap and take it out on you!”

I move closer and wrap her in a hug. I can tell that this is something she’s wanted to get off her chest for a while. It takes a few seconds, but she returns the hug, squeezing me as she does.

“Annie,” I say in the firmest tone I can, “we’ve been dating for over a year now, other than being a little… forceful in bed, you haven’t ever done anything to suggest you’d even think about hurting me.” I give a small smile as her eyes meet mine, “I’m more afraid of you getting hurt in these fights then you ever hurting me.”

Tears begin to well in her eyes, “That’s the other part, whenever they bring you into it.”

“What do you mean, “When they bring me into it”?”

“When they call me a big dumb brute or a violent idiot, I usually don’t care, it’s just bitches mouthing off,” she closes her eyes, causing a tear to roll down her cheek, leaving a wet trail down her emerald cheek, “But when they bring you into it, I start to feel… I start to feel like you’re too good for me, alright?”

“Annie.” I say, a hint of concern in my voice.

“All the things you do for me, patching me up when I get my dumb ass kicked, hanging out with me even though it gets you nothing but dirty looks, and worst of all, saying things like “my future wife” or “the mother of my children” when you talk about me,” she turns her back to me and takes a deep breath before continuing, “A fuckin’ punk like me doesn’t deserve to be your wife!”

“Don’t ever say that!” I shout

“It’s true!” she shouts back, “A guy like you, from a family of doctors, wantin’ to be a doctor yerself, you shouldn’t even be talkin’ to me! A guy like you should be goin’ on chaperoned dates with, like, a vampire or some shit! Not stayin’ up all night to stitch up some fuckin’ delinquent!”

“Marianne.” I mutter, irritation growing in my voice.

If she heard me, she gives no sign, she continues her rant, “My parents are trash, your’s are doctors, your mom’s a Unicorn for fuck’s sake! My parents are fuckin’ punks, which means I’m twice as much a punk, and if we have kids then they’ll still be half a punk, maybe we'll get lucky and have one grow up to be the first ogre brain surgeon, but I ain’t holdin’ my breath on that.”

“Marianne Rose Duvall,” I say, firmly, “do you think I keep patching you up because it’s good practice?”


“Do you remember how we first met? I found you in an alley, leaning against a wall with an unconscious Jinko next to you. I knew who you were, and I knew what you were about, but I still helped you. Do you know why that is?” I ask, seriousness still etched on my face.

“I dunno, pity?” she spits

I sigh, “It’s because I knew so much about you that I helped you. Your gang never ran shakedowns on regular students, you never picked fights with weaker opponents, and you always made sure everyone knew when and where you were fighting so normal people could steer clear. You have honor, a lot of punks in this town don’t.”

She tries to respond, but I cut her off, “What’s more, you came back to thank me. How many other girls would have just taken the free wound dressing and never looked back? So, when you got in another fight, I patched you up again, and again, and I’ll keep doing it as long as you keep fighting.”

“Because you’re an idiot!” she cries, “An idiot laboring under some “delinquent with a heart of gold” fantasy!”

“I’m an idiot who’s in love with you!” I snap back, “You say that I could find a better girl, yet in the same breath you bring up the fact my mom is a Unicorn. If you knew anything about unicorns, you would know they only ever love one person for their entire lives, and as the son of a unicorn, I’ve already decided that person is you.”

She’s speechless, tears are falling from her eyes, and I’m not ashamed to admit that a few are coming from mine as well.

“So yeah, you are a delinquent and a punk, but you’re a delinquent that I want to spend the rest of my life with, a delinquent I want to have bring my children into this world. So if anyone says I’m “too good for you”, tell me and I’ll prescribe ten cc’s of my boot in their ass!”

The ogre stands motionless, the only sign my words reached her is the smile growing wider on her face.

“You sound like a fuckin’ dork when you try to talk tough.” She says, fighting back tears of joy. In another instant, she’s rushed to hug me, her head pressed against mine.

The sound of hooves comes from the hall as the familiar face of my mother pokes through the door. She looks about ready to say something before she sees Annie and I in our embrace. “I heard yelling, so I thought I’d check up on you two, but it’s obvious you worked things out.”

Annie looks a bit embarrassed; she never likes when people see her being tender or gentle, “Yeah, sorry about that Mrs. Taylor…”

“Marianne, we’ve been over this. YOU’RE Mrs. Taylor, I’m Mom.” My mother says, giving a sweet smile

“Me and him aren’t married yet, but okay,” Annie mutters, “Sorry for all the noise, Mom, and thanks for the shirt.”

“Oh, anything for my daughter in law.” My mother turns to leave, “Oh, Breakfast is ready if you feel like coming down, but I’ll understand if you two would prefer to spend some more time together.”

With that, she leaves me alone with Annie, the two of us standing apart.

“Well, “Mrs. Taylor’,” I say, finally breaking the silence, “Does breakfast sound okay to you?

The ogre walks over to my side, hooking her arm in mine, “Ya know, I could go for some breakfast right now.”

“Maybe before you go home, I can give you some “outpatient care”?” I suggest.

“Ha, and people say ogres are horny all the time.” She scoffs.

I smile, she’s dug her own grave here, “They’re not wrong, you have two right there on your head.”

She blinks twice and then gives a small smile “Go get your breakfast, “Doctor Taylor”, we’ll see how the rest of the day goes from there.”

It’s a cool summer morning, won’t get hot until later in the day. I have no school, no papers to write, no pretentious teachers to appease. My mother has cooked me a nice breakfast and the woman I love is safe and sound in my arms. If this is what doing basic first aid gets me, then I’m content to let her keep fighting as long as she wants. As long as I'm there for her when she's hurting and she's there for me when I'm lonesome, everything is right in the world.

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love it, very sweet