My submissive-an evil angel

Untitled Part 2

I hated my twin sister's best friend.

Her name was Lucy.

When we were younger, she tormented me endlessly.

She mocked me for my skinny frame, my slightly higher than average voice, and for a dozen other apparently obvious flaws. This continued through all the years I'd known her. Recently, her favourite comment was about the fact that I was 18 and had never kissed a girl.

I blamed this partly, but not entirely, on her. Every time I met her, my confidence took another hit. Even if she had a little Friday-night sleepover with my sister, even when our families went on summer trips together, even when we were just supposed to be hanging out and being civil to each other, she would just never stop with the criticisms, the insults, the stupid little nick names.

It felt like she'd set me up as a kid for my life as a teenager. All the way through grade school and high school, I'd been picked on in some way or another. She wasn't always the source of the insults, but she usually inspired them. I was the designated whipping-boy pretty much my whole childhood, all thanks to her. I had friends, sure, and not everyone hated me. But everywhere I went, every new class, every new group of people, she was there. She and my sister were always the among the most popular, and Lucy lead them against me.

Over the years I could feel it having an effect on me. I didn't like going out much, I hated meeting new people. I was shy, quiet, withdrawn, and lonely. Like I said, I blamed it on her that I hadn't had a girlfriend before. There's only so much social rejection a guy can take before he just stops trying.

I couldn't understand why she seemed to hate me so much. Over the years I learned that I wasn't special, she just seemed to hate most people, and I happened to be around her a lot. She really was just a bitch, in general.

As we got older, her insults got better. And by better, I obviously mean worse. They went from being general to being painfully specific. She picked up on my cracking voice, my sparse peach-fuzz facial hair, and my growth-spurt induced clumsiness. When we hung out with other people in a group, she'd point out how I got nervous when I talked to girls, and she'd constantly belittle me in front of new people.

When we were younger, I hated her. Like, really hated her. I wished she was dead. I'd grown up a lot since those days, emotionally. I felt that I was more stable. I still didn't like her, but at some point I'd tried to stop paying attention to her constant hostility. These days it had calmed down a lot. She still never had a civil word to say to me, but over the years it'd been reduced from constant mockery to the occasional snarky remark.

It didn't help that she went from being a cute little girl to a gorgeous young woman. She had a beautiful, perfectly symmetrical face, with big green eyes and soft, flawless skin. She also developed quite large D cup tits pretty young, which made her even more popular. Both she and my sister took good care of their bodies too, jogging together most days after school.

And she was tall. I grew slower than her, and she'd delighted in towering over me while she did. It lasted way longer than it should have, but thankfully not forever. At 18 I was an even 6 feet, and she was around 5'9 or 5'10.