Bar Rescue

The entrance to the bar was filled with girls enticing customers to come over. George had bought some new clothes and was headed back to school.

As he passed by the bar though, he found himself entangled in the arms of a couple of the girls. "Hey, handsome. Do you want to come in and have a drink?" One said seductively.

"What the…" he looked around and immediately wished he hadn't. He was face to face with a woman with a face covered in far too much makeup, that close up, she actually scared him for a moment. "Any customer who goes in there is just going to get taken for a ride," he thought.

"Hey, this way," the woman on his other arm called out.

When he turned to look at her, she gave a flirtatious wink and kissed his cheek. George didn't have a clue what to do.

"What are you rushing for, Mister? Come in and have a drink," the second woman said. "There are so many beautiful women waiting for you inside." They had noticed that George was well dressed, young, but not too young, and handsome. The woman flooded her eyes at him and took a few steps forward while keeping her arm locked in his, directing him into the bar.

"No thank you, Miss," George wasn't interested in visiting the bar and he was even less interested in the women trying to get him in there.

"Come on, I'll have a drink with you," the first woman said.

"You'll have a great time in here," a third woman added flirtatious. "There are so many fun things to watch in the bar." She moved closer to George and shook her chest as if dancing, whether intentionally or otherwise her large breasts rubbed against George's body. How could a young man who had never experienced such a thing not be tempted by these well-practiced attacks.

George's face reddened as he tried to push the women out of his way. He couldn't help, but look down at her chest and he quickly closed his eyes to stop himself from looking again?

The woman laughed as she saw this. "You're not too nervous, aren't you? Come on my love," the first woman said, "I promise that you'll have a good time."

George felt so uncomfortable. If he didn't leave now, he might die of embarrassment before the night was over. Helpless as he was with his eyes closed, the women finally succeeded in dragging him into the bar. He wanted to struggle free, but no matter how hard he tried, it was useless. They had his arms firmly locked in theirs, making it impossible for him to escape. He cursed under his breath and thought to himself, "What the hell is happening to me? And how can these women be so strong? It's like I'm being dragged by a couple of burly men."

"That's right, handsome. You sit right here." One of the women set George down at the table and took a seat next to him. "Don't you run away now." She laughed.

He looked at the women sitting on both sides of him. Although their chests were very big, they also had big, strong arms. There was nothing for it. He could only accept his fate. He closed his eyes in despair, but then opened them again soon after.

There was a disturbance at the next table over. "What's the matter with you? Do you know how to pour wine or not? This suit was expensive. Are you going to pay for a new one?"

"I'm, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll get a cloth so you can wipe it off," Charlie said anxiously.

George's eyes lit up. "What the heck? What's she doing here?"

Charlie had big eyes, a slender waist, long legs and was wearing some sort of maid's outfit. It vividly accentuated her curvaceous body.

"Me, wipe it off?" The man scowled while looking lustfully at Charlie. "How about you wipe it off for me?" Charlie blushed.

"Sir, please be more respectful. I can't do that."

"Are you shy or something? Look at you. You were born to be a man's play thing." As the man spoke, he reached out and grabbed Charlie's butt.

She glared at him angrily and without thinking, she slapped him in the face.

"You little bitch!" He cried out in anger more than pain. "You dare hit me? I'll teach you a lesson." He slapped her back, the smack, audible above the music in the bar. He didn't stop there though. This was a man who had never had a woman treat him like this before. He was furious. The man grabbed at Charlie's top as if he was trying to rip it from her body.

She screamed as she resisted his attempts to humiliate her. "Let me go. Get off me." She looked around frantically, "Help. Save me."

No one stepped in to help. The few other people in the bar all seemed to look away as if this was a regular occurrence and nothing to get involved with. This was the type of place where meddling in other people's business could bring you nothing but trouble. Besides, he was a pretty big man with an obvious temper on him. Who would dare to mess with someone like that?

George, however, wasn't used to this type of thing. As soon as he heard the cry for help, he immediately stood up and pushed past the women who were still trying to wrap their arms around him.

"Help!" Charlie's cries grew louder.

"Yeah. You shout for help," the man sneered. "No matter how loud you shout, no one will save you. I'm going to tear your clothes apart in front of all these people. And then I'll really teach you a lesson."

"Hey, asshole. Go to hell." George shouted and threw a bottle at the man. It hit the man in the head and smashed open. Blood and wine flooded profusely, as he cried out in pain.

"Where the hell did that come from?" He looked around and saw George hurrying over to Charlie. "I'm going to kill you."

George took off his jacket and wrapped it around Charlie's shoulders. "Everything's okay now," he said.

Charlie looked at him in disbelief. She wanted to thank him, but was too shocked for words. Then she saw the man was holding a bottle like a club and was about to hit George. So she shouted. "Watch out, behind you."

George spun around and knocked the bottle out of his hand. "Trying a sneak attack, are you shorty?"

"Who are you calling shorty?"

"You're shorty!" George mocked. Now they were both standing up. He could see that although he was stocky, the man's head barely came up to George's shoulders. "You're just a mean little dwarf, a Hobbit. Should I call you Frodo instead?"

The man was furious. "I'll kill you," he shouted again.

The few people in the bar looked at George in disbelief. They hadn't seen anyone get involved like this before.

"You dare call me names. I'll show you." The man raised his fists. "Brat, you're courting death." He picked up another bottle of wine and rushed forward.

George quickly put the table between them, keeping Charlie protected behind his back. "Don't bet on it, Frodo," George laughed as they moved around on opposite sides of the table. He looked over his shoulder and said, gently, "Charlie, are you all right?"

"I'm fine now. Thank you," she said.

"I'm going to get you," Frodo threatened. He wanted to get to George, but he couldn't reach him over the table. His other option was to call for reinforcements to help him.

"I don't think so, Frodo. You better apologize to her." George cheered.

The group of people in the bar were still just looking on in shock. They knew more than George. They knew who he was taunting. This brat had offended someone big and he was the only one who didn't realize it.