“Now, honey, just calm down. We’re leaving anyway, and it’s not like she’s done anything to you…” Joe said, reaching across the table at the Italian restaurant and placing his hand lightly on his wife’s arm. She was slow to anger, but he’d noticed her temper rising steadily for the last ten minutes or so.
“You saw that bitchy look that slut gave me when she came in. She wouldn’t pull that shit if we weren’t in public. I ought to go over there and smack that smug look off her face,” his pretty blonde wife Wendy said, her voice quiet but intense, her gray eyes filled with hatred for the brunette sitting at a table across the room.
“Come on,” Joe said, rising from the table and pulling back his wife’s chair. As they’d already settled the check, he figured a quick exit was the best way to defuse a potentially explosive situation. He took Wendy by the arm and half escorted half dragged her toward the door. His wife shot a deadly look back at her former college roommate Lydia, a lovely brunette who was sitting at a table with a group of several friends. The dark-eyed beauty was doing her best to appear to be ignoring Wendy, but, in fact, her eyes had never left the blonde since she’d entered the restaurant. And, when Wendy looked back, Lydia flipped her the bird. Joe saw this and grabbed his wife tightly around the waist and hustled her through the door.
As Joe got his Wendy outside, he reflected, probably for the 1,000th time, about how she and her former friend had come to hate each other so desperately. It had happened during their final year in college, and it had been, predictably, over a man. But, not in the way you’d think. Lydia had been dating a friend of Wendy’s and had thrown him over for another guy. The young man in question had been crushed, and Wendy had taken Lydia to task over it. Things had deteriorated rapidly after that, and, now the women were sworn enemies.
“I can’t believe that bitch…” Wendy started, after she and Joe were outside the restaurant and heading to their car.
“Wendy, there’s no sense getting upset over her. I mean, it’s been, what, four years since college? It’s silly to still worry about her. We’ve gone on with our lives, and so has she.”
“I should have kicked her ass back then,” the blonde spat. “In fact, I should have turned around at the door tonight and gone and done it.” Then she took a deep breath and nearly growled before settling down into an angry silence.
Joe could sense Wendy was still stewing a few minutes later when they reached the car. “You were serious back there, weren’t you?” he asked.
“About what?”
“About regretting not fighting Lydia back in college.”
“Damn right. We came close twice, but you know all that. The one time, if those guys hadn’t gotten between us, I think we’d have settled it right then,” the blonde said, her eyes getting that faraway look as she thought about those events of years past.
“It’s funny…” Joe said, and then stopped, wondering if he should continue. His wife was well aware that he was still on friendly terms with Lydia and that the two spoke occasionally. It was not a source of friction between the couple. In fact, Wendy sometimes found it amusing. But, at the moment, Joe wondered if he should just let things lie.
“What is?” Wendy asked, snapped out of her reverie by her husband’s remark.
“Well, she said the same thing.”
“About what?”
“About wishing you two had settled things back then,” Joe replied, bracing himself for the response.
He was surprised by his wife’s calmness. “Well, the next time you see her, you give her a little message from me. You tell her that it’s not too late, and that if she wants to find out who the better woman is, well, she can look me up.”
Joe smiled and shook his head, then said, “I’ll deliver that message, darling.” But, of course, he had no intention of doing any such thing. This was one wasp nest he was not going to poke with a stick, because, if these two ever got their stingers into one another, someone was going to get hurt.
It was later that week that Joe ran into Lydia at the lunch counter near where he worked. He saw her here about once a month, which was how they stayed in touch. He was eating alone. She came in with two female co-workers and waved them off to their table before sitting down with Joe for a few minutes.
“How’d you like your dinner the other night?” she asked with a smile.
“Oh, I like that place well enough,” Joe responded, “But, as you might imagine, you showing up there ruined the night for a certain blonde we both know.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. I saw the way she was looking at me. That’s why I flipped her off.”
“You very nearly had a problem because of that,” Joe said with a smile. “Lucky I had hold of her on the way out the door.”
“Joe, I’ve told you this before, and I’ll tell you this again. You’d better keep her away from me, because if she starts something, I’ll be the one to finish it, and you can count on that. Now, I’d better get back to my table.” And, that quickly, the pretty brunette was gone.
Joe sat there for a while, barely eating, his mind racing, thinking about who would win if Wendy and Lydia ever got a chance to finally settle things. Physically, he figured, it would be a very even match. His wife was two years older, at 26. Both women were 5’7” inches tall, and Lydia had a very small weight advantage. The brunette tipped the scales at about 130 pounds, while his wife weighed 125. Both were very fit and had tight bodies. Wendy played a lot of tennis to stay in shape, and Lydia was, like his wife, very athletic.
In fact, there was only one major physical difference between the two women, besides their hair and eye colors, and that was the size of their chests. Both had incredibly firm breasts, but Lydia’s were much larger, full C-cups, whereas Wendy’s, though magnificent, were only an “A”. Of course, larger breasts weren’t going to help Lydia in a fight. In fact, he thought, they might be a disadvantage. He knew very well that both women were very proud of their chests, and that Wendy was more than a little jealous of Lydia’s much larger breasts. A little smile came to his face as he remembered Wendy saying during a conversation about the woman she referred to as “that slut” that she’d like to “rip off those cow tits and mount them on the wall.” No, larger breasts wouldn’t help Lydia in a fight. In fact, they’d just be big targets for his wife’s abuse.
Joe glanced down at his watch and saw that he needed to get back to the office. He rose and gave a wave to Lydia’s table. As he walked out the door and into the sunshine, Joe made a decision. He’d not tell Wendy about their little meeting today. His wife was still angry over the incident at the restaurant and he didn’t want to get her going again. He’d leave Lydia out of his conversations with Wendy for a while longer. His ruminations about who might win a fight between the two had led him to decide to give things time to settle down for a while, because, while his mind never quite did wrap itself around who might win if the two went at it, his brain did conjure up what such a fight would be like. And those thoughts were scary.
Joe’s plan of letting things cool down worked like a charm. For several weeks, he didn’t mention Lydia in front of Wendy and his wife got over her ire about the incident in the restaurant. Life went on, and Joe was pleased about that. But, fate is, if anything, fickle. And all of Joe’s plans went out the window with one chance encounter.
It happened on a Saturday afternoon while Joe was at home doing some yard work. Wendy was off doing the shopping, alone. She was standing in the checkout line of a local department store when Lydia and a friend walked in. Wendy noticed Lydia first, but the brunette did not immediately see the blonde. When she did, with a smirk, she flipped her off once again.
Wendy responded with only a glare, but as she stood waiting while no fewer than three people in front of her delayed the line by writing checks, (Christ didn’t these people know what a fucking debit card was?), her anger began to boil over. By the time she’d checked out, Wendy was seeing red, but, fortunately, Lydia was long gone. And things might have ended there. But fate, once again, intervened.
As Wendy was walking across the parking lot to her car, she saw a familiar-looking BMW. The car belonged to “the slut.” And, in an instant, Wendy made a decision to get some of her own back in the long Cold War with her former roommate. She stepped off the curb and walked over to Lydia’s vehicle. She checked to make sure no one else was around, then pulled out a lipstick and wrote “Slut” in large letters across the rear windshield. She giggled all the way back to the car. The war had just been escalated.
When Wendy got home, she told Joe about what happened, barely able to hold back the laughter as she told the tale. Joe just shook his head while his wife finally burst out laughing when she’d finished. “Oh, come on,” the blonde said, tears in her eyes, after she’d settled down, “You know it’s funny.”
“Well,” Joe said, holding back a grin, “While I might think it’s funny, my guess is that Lydia will not.”
“Oh, don’t be so serious. It’s not like I did any permanent damage. I mean, she can wash it off. She just has to…” And, after another bout of laughter, she finished. “Drive home with the word ‘slut’ written in big red letters across her back window.” After that, Wendy lost control completely, laughing hysterically for over a minute. Joe couldn’t help but laugh with her. It had gotten contagious at that point. But, even as he was laughing, a part of Joe’s mind was thinking about the fact that there was no doubt there would be consequences to Wendy’s actions.
But there weren’t. For the next week, Joe kept expecting to find Lydia at the lunch counter or to hear from Wendy that the brunette had called and accosted her, but he did not. When another week passed without any further developments, Joe began to believe that he was wrong and that the Cold War between Wendy and Lydia was going to settle back down to its familiar tense stalemate. But Joe was had been the target of a deliberate disinformation campaign. He was no longer in the loop.
Wendy had no idea how “the slut” had gotten her cell phone number, but it was apparent that she had done so on Monday evening as Wendy was driving home from work. Expecting a call from Joe, the blonde answered only to hear Lydia’s voice on the other end of the line.
“What the fuck do you want, bitch?” Wendy spat.
“A piece of your ugly ass for what you did to my car, you whore!” Lydia shot back.
“Fuck you, Lydia. You got what you deserved you piece of trash!” Wendy screamed, before hanging up. But the phone rang again immediately. Wendy almost didn’t pick it up. She let it ring twice, before answering. “What do you want, bitch?” she shouted.
“I told you, I want a piece of your ass. That is, if you have the guts to settle this woman to woman, you pussy.”
“Like I told Joe to tell you, slut, it’s not too late to finish what we started in college. Just name the time and the place.”
“Fine with me, whore,” Lydia growled, and, this time, it was she who hung up on Wendy.
The blonde drove home fuming, but had calmed down by the time she got there, mainly by force of will. She wasn’t going to tell Joe a thing about this conversation, because, if Lydia were serious, it meant the two of them would finally get to settle their differences. And she didn’t want Joe trying to prevent them from doing so.
For the next week, Wendy heard nothing. But that didn’t bother her at all. Wendy knew Lydia. And she knew the brunette bitch wasn’t going to back down from a challenge. The blonde wasn’t disappointed. It was the following Wednesday when the call came, again on her cell phone while she was driving back from work.
“If you still want to settle this, meet me next Friday night at 7. I’ll give you the address,” Lydia said, as soon as Wendy picked up the phone.
Wendy said, “Hang on, bitch!” and fished a pen from her purse. She wrote the address down on the back of a gasoline receipt, and then asked, “What the hell is this place?”
“Oh, don’t worry, Wendy, it’s nice and private. Nobody else will be around. Except me.”
“Good, you slut,” Wendy shot back. “I don’t want anybody breaking it up this time.”
“Fuck you,” Lydia said, and hung up on Wendy again.
For the second time, the blonde forced herself to calm down before she got home. She breathed not a word of the conversation or her destination the following week to her husband. Before she’d gotten home, she’d determined how she would finesse the issue with Joe. She’d simply tell him she had to work late. That happened every so often. He’d grab some dinner at a fast food restaurant and spend the night at home relaxing. And she would deal with Lydia.
Fortunately, Friday was dress-down day where Wendy worked, so she was able to wear jeans, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes to the office. She’d told Joe to call her cell phone if he needed her after 5, as the switchboard would be shut down at work. She made sure the phone was on and tucked it in her purse as she left the office, Mapquest directions in one hand and her keys in the other.
The address Lydia had given her was fairly easy to find. It was a nice house at the end of a cul de sac in a residential housing plan. Lydia’s BMW was in the driveway. At first, Wendy was a bit confused, but then she saw it. The “for sale” sign in the front. Wendy’s brother was a realtor. The house must have been one of his, which meant it was empty. And the location was ideal. The houses on either side of it were yards away. Lydia was right. It would be private.
Wendy pulled into the driveway and shut off her car, got out, and closed the door, not at all concerned about what might be waiting for her. She knew Lydia and knew that the bitch had come alone. Like Wendy, she wanted to settle this thing once and for all, and the only way to do that was one-on-one.
Wendy reached for the bell, and then decided to use the large metal knocker instead. She rapped it three times and waited. The door opened and Lydia smiled out at her. “Come on in, bitch,” she said, pulling the door open.
Wendy looked around and saw what she expected. The house was empty. No people. No furniture. Nothing. Just her…and Lydia.
The brunette, like Wendy, had worn jeans, tennis shoes, and a T-shirt. She motioned Wendy into the entry hall and locked the door behind her. The house was mostly dark, but the electricity was apparently on, as there were lights in the hall. There was a staircase in front of Wendy that led to a second floor that was pitch black. To her right were two large sliding oak doors. Lydia stepped around her and pulled one aside. It revealed a huge, empty room with a large chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling and providing plenty of light. “This is the family room,” Lydia said, offhandedly, as if she were giving Wendy the tour.
“Fine,” Wendy spat, pushing past Lydia into the room. The brunette followed her and the pair stood face to face, in silence, for a few seconds, both realizing that years of enmity were about to lead to the ultimate confrontation. There was no one else here. Things were going to be settled, woman to woman, right here and right now. The end of the line had arrived.
“I’m going to enjoy beating the shit out of you, you arrogant little bitch,” Lydia said with a cruel smile on her face.
“Fuck you, whore,” Wendy spat back. “I’m going to rip off those big fucking tits you’re so proud of!”
“Then, what are we waiting for?” Lydia said, beginning to circle the blonde. “I’ve been waiting a long time to take you down a peg or two, Wendy. I’m going to make you wish you were never fucking born.”
“Then bring it, bitch,” Wendy said, circling her rival as she spoke. The two stopped talking then, continuing to stalk one another like carnivorous animals, both poised to strike at any second. Yet, neither did. They simply kept circling, regarding each other with hate-filled eyes, their pulse-rates quickening as adrenaline was poured into their systems, their bodies preparing for combat.
When it finally happened, it was almost too quick for the eye to see. Wendy took a quick jab step then lunged, hitting Lydia right in the belly with her shoulder. The brunette hadn’t time to react quickly enough and was knocked off balance. She went down hard on her back with an “oof!” and Wendy’s weight landed on top of her.
Lydia might have been in serious trouble had she not reacted so quickly, and so effectively. Despite being winded and hurt by Wendy’s shoulder tackle, the brunette’s instincts took over at the right time. She grabbed Wendy by the hair with both hands and twisted her own body to the right, pulling Wendy with her. That quickly, the blonde, who had been planning to straddle her rival, found herself being turned underneath.
The blonde’s own instincts, however, were every bit as razor-sharp as Lydia’s. As she felt the brunette’s weight shift beneath her and her own body become unbalanced, Wendy, screaming from the pain of Lydia’s hair pulls, answered her opponent in kind, sinking her hands deep into the dark hair of the brunette. The maneuver didn’t keep Wendy from being rolled underneath, but it did prevent Lydia from staying on top. Instead, Wendy was able to used her hated foe’s own tactics against her, rolling the brunette underneath in the same way she, herself, had been dislodged.
The result of all of this turned out to be very little, except that both women expended energy and both inflicted pain on the other with her hair pulls. Neither, though, could gain any advantage, as, as soon as a woman managed to get on top, her opposite number would pull her right back underneath.
The slow rolling across the floor, both women screaming and grunting with effort, continued for a couple of minutes to little effect. Then, as they did so often in life, the two women made diametrically opposite decisions on how to deal with their current impasse. Lydia, sure that she was stronger and had more stamina than Wendy, decided to continue the battle until she could overpower the blonde and pin her to the floor. Wendy, though equally confident in her abilities to, eventually, overcome Lydia, decided to take different measures.
And, so it was that, as Lydia pulled Wendy beneath her once again, Wendy ducked her head and pressed her face into Lydia’s lush body. And, before she realized what was happening, the busty brunette was shrieking in agony. “Ahhhhhhhhhh!” Lydia wailed, as Wendy’s teeth clamped down on the side of the brunette’s right breast.
Lydia’s instincts, however, were still on duty, for, rather than do something both desperate and dumb like trying to pull Wendy’s head back by the hair, she did something no less desperate, but much smarter. She released the blonde’s hair and jammed both thumbs into Wendy’s eyes.
The older woman, of course, had plenty of time to close her eyes when she saw Lydia’s thumbs coming, but the presence of the eyelids did nothing to stop either the pain or the shooting lights that danced around her brain as a result of what her opponent had just done. They also did nothing to prevent a muffled scream from erupting from Wendy’s throat.
Now it was the blonde’s instincts that went back into action. She removed her hands from Lydia’s hair and grabbed the heavier woman’s wrists, pulling her rival’s hands backward and to the sides. This relieved some of the pressure from her eyes, and, with a twist of her hips, she was able to pull Lydia back underneath while still sinking her teeth into the brunette’s right boob. And, when the blonde got back on top, she bit down even harder.
“OWWWWW!. FUCKKKKKK!” Lydia screamed, tears of pain coming to her eyes. The brunette fought through the pain to twist hard to the right, rolling Wendy off of her and forcing the blonde to her right hip. The two women were now face to face, Lydia on her left side and Wendy on her right, the brunette still fighting to shove her thumbs into the blonde’s eyes, and Wendy’s hands still trying to pull them away. Until Lydia ripped her hands away from her rival’s eyes, shaking her wrists free of Wendy’s grip.
Before the blonde could react, Lydia made a fist with her right hand and crashed it into Wendy’s left eye. The blonde grunted a muffled “Ooooh!” as the fist slammed home, then a higher-pitched “Oool!” as a second blow landed in the same place.
Wendy saw stars, and the second punch convinced her to release Lydia’s breast and try to get into a better position. She did so by bringing up her left knee and driving it into Lydia’s belly. The brunette’s firm abs took most of the force of the blow, but it still hurt, and a grunt of pain escaped the heavier woman’s throat. After the knee landed, Wendy spun backward, releasing Lydia’s boob and rolling away from her rival before bouncing to her feet.
Lydia was slower to react, rolling to her belly, and then pushing, first to her hands and knees, then to her feet. But Wendy was still feeling the effects of the two punches (in fact, her eye was swelling) and she was unable to take advantage. By the time Wendy was ready to resume the fight, Lydia was prepared as well.
Again the women circled one another carefully, Lydia rubbing her right breast and Wendy blinking her right eye, even bringing a hand to it occasionally to wipe it, as it was watering from the blows it had taken. “How’s that tit feel, bitch?” Wendy said cruelly.
“You’ll pay for that, you titless whore!” Lydia shot back.
“I told you I’d tear ‘em off, slut. That was just a sample!”
“You talk a good game Wendy, but you can’t fight for shit!” Lydia said, lunging at her rival on the last word. She grabbed the front of Wendy’s shirt with both hands and jerked the blonde forward. Wendy fought for balance, and her head went down, which was just what Lydia was hoping for. The brunette wrapped her left arm around Wendy’s head, then pulled it in tight against her own left side, completing a nice front facelock. Then she made a fist with her free right hand, and brought it up into Wendy’s face, where it landed with, what to Lydia was a satisfying smack.
Wendy’s knees wobbled and she groaned as the punch slammed into her mouth. She’d taste blood in a few seconds, but first she saw stars as Lydia’s fist crunched into her left eye yet again. Wendy’s mind clouded a bit as a third uppercut landed, this one right beneath her jaw, but she still had enough of her senses left to know she had to do something or Lydia was going to pound her face to hamburger.
The blonde’s options were few. She was well held and couldn’t begin to pop her head free. Also, Lydia was in an excellent position, feet spread wide apart, so tripping the strong brunette was not an option. That left only a little trickery and deceit. After the third punch landed, Wendy allowed her already wobbly legs to give out. Lydia felt her rival’s weight begin to drop and leaned down to maintain her hold as Wendy fell to her knees. The brunette’s mind was already working and she lifted her right foot off the floor in preparation to bang a knee into Wendy’s now-exposed left side. But she never got the chance.
Instead, Wendy brought her right fist up hard from the floor, landing it between Lydia’s legs. The brunette screamed, but still held on to the blonde’s head…until Wendy plowed her fist home again. The second low blow took all the strength out of Lydia’s legs, not to mention brought a banshee-like scream from her lungs, and the brunette fell to her knees, releasing Wendy’s head, then flopped flat to the floor, both hands going to her aching crotch.
Again, however, Wendy was unable to take advantage of her rival’s infirmity. She tried, immediately getting to her feet, only to find she was too woozy to stand. Instead, she dropped to one knee and tried to shake some of the cobwebs while Lydia lay moaning and rubbing her violated womanhood.
For Lydia’s part, she couldn’t move her legs for several seconds. The pain was so intense that it rolled through her in waves and her stomach felt like it was going to turn over. Her eyes were filled with tears and it was hard to breathe. It was the worst pain she’d ever felt. And she knew Wendy would be along soon to add to it.
Wendy did not disappoint her rival. The second time she shoved to her feet she was able to stand, though shakily. Her left eye was swelling badly and her lips were bleeding, but she knew she was in far better shape than the groaning brunette lying before her. “Get up, bitch!” Wendy screamed, as she moved toward Lydia.
The brunette tried to move, but only managed to roll a bit while groaning, “Fucking slut…” Wendy straddled her foe and forced her flat to her belly, then sat on her back and grabbed her hair with both hands, pulling up and back as hard as she could. Lydia screamed as her scalp caught fire, but also took advantage of Wendy’s mistake. The blonde had all her weight leaning backward, so Lydia did a half push-up and turned right, causing Wendy to lose her balance.
The blonde began to go over and instinctively released her rival’s hair. She fell on her right shoulder and continued rolling away from Lydia, coming up against the far wall. The brunette, given an opportunity for escape, didn’t waste it, going into a roll of her own to put some distance between herself and Wendy. By the time the brunette got to her feet, however, the blonde was already moving in. Lydia waved her forward with a sneer.
The two women lunged at the same time, and, after a few seconds of grappling, Lydia had her arms wrapped around Wendy’s back and the blonde had done the same to the brunette. The women then began working for position, trying to use their dual bearhugs to toss one another to the floor, but neither was able to do so. Instead, they engaged in a sort of dance across the cream colored carpet, twisting and turning and fighting for leverage, all to no effect.
Finally, Lydia tired of the game and stomped down hard with her right foot on Wendy’s left. Wendy groaned and picked up her foot, which was the opening Lydia needed. The brunette twisted hard to her left and drove her weight forward and through Wendy, who was forced off balance to crash to her back with Lydia on top of her.
Like Lydia before her, Wendy hit the floor with a grunt and an exhalation of air. She also hit it much harder than the brunette had and was stunned for just an instant. And an instant was long enough. Lydia straddled her winded rival and grabbed her wrists, pinning them to the floor above the blonde’s head while sitting on Wendy’s belly. The blonde tried to dislodge Lydia by bridging with her legs and twisting, but the brunette maintained her position, shifting her weight up Wendy’s body a bit to provide for even better balance.
“What’s the matter, Wendy?” Lydia said with a grin as Wendy bucked and turned beneath her, desperately trying to escape.
“Get the fuck off me, bitch,” Wendy retorted.
Lydia’s only response was a laugh…then a growl as she lowered her head and bit down hard on Wendy’s left breast.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” screamed the blonde as she twisted and kicked wildly beneath her rival. “You fucking bitttttchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” she wailed as Lydia bit down harder and began twisting her head back and forth to increase the pain and damage to her rival’s boob.
Now it was Wendy’s eyes that were full of tears and her throat that was torn by screams as her rival ravaged her chest. “Oh Goddddddd!” Wendy wailed as Lydia’s teeth dug deeper into the sensitive flesh. “You fucking….AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Lydia had to release Wendy’s boob for the next bit, but it was worth it. “Let me know when you’ve had enough, slut,” the brunette said.
Wendy’s eyes widened and she gasped, “No…AHHHHH-HAAAAAAAHHHHH!” as Lydia sunk her teeth in again. Wendy began to panic, and for good reason. Her arms were still trapped above her head, and her legs kicked uselessly far from Lydia’s body. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the brunette off of her, and she couldn’t take much more of this kind of agonizing pain. And then, she saw an opening.
A petard, for those who wonder, was a bell-shaped metal grenade filled with gunpowder and set off by a fuse. In medieval warfare, sappers would dig a tunnel or covered trench up to a building and fix the device to a door, barricade or gate to blow it open. Unfortunately, said devices were not exactly reliable and were known to go off unexpectedly, sometimes blowing up the sapper that set it. It was from this not uncommon catastrophe of battle that the phrase, “hoist with one’s own petard”, meaning blown up by one’s own bomb, comes.
Now, Lydia was not throwing bombs, and, in fact, had not even been the one who’d started using her teeth as weapons, but her petard blew up much earlier than she expected. With no other option, Wendy decided to play Mike Tyson, and bit deeply into Lydia’s right ear. Lydia’s teeth unclamped from Wendy’s breast as the brunette screamed in surprise and pain. Her hands also came away from Wendy’s wrists and grabbed the side of the blonde’s head. Wendy clamped down tightly and pulled her head away from Lydia’s, bringing another wail of torment from the brunette. Then, Wendy’s free left hand came up and slammed into the right side of Lydia’s face.
The brunette began to fall to one side and Wendy released her ear, again tasting blood, but, this time, it was Lydia’s blood. The blonde, with her foe’s weight off of her, tore her head free and rolled away as Lydia flopped to her back, a bit dazed from the solid left hand she’d just taken to the face. Wendy got to her knees, a hand coming to her aching left tit, as Lydia put a hand to her ear, pulled it away, and looked at it. She saw the blood and rolled to her own knees with a growl.
“You fucking bitch,” Lydia screamed, “I will fucking kill you.”
“Then come on, slut,” Wendy said, one hand still on her tit.
Lydia hesitated for just a second, and then charged the blonde with a guttural roar. Wendy sidestepped slightly, then stepped forward, lowering her shoulder and catching the brunette in the belly with it. Lydia grunted in surprise as the shoulder stopped her momentum and Wendy wrapped her left arm around the brunette’s back, then her right, locking her hands. Wendy stood and lifted, using Lydia’s momentum to get the brunette off the floor.
With her feet off the ground, Lydia was helpless to prevent what happened next. Wendy ducked her head again and drove forward. Lydia, completely off balance, began to go over backward, and, with Wendy still driving, she had no hope of regaining control. Instead, she was literally planted on the carpet, her back crashing against the floor as Wendy’s weight, via her shoulder, crashed down into her belly. “Ulllgghhhh!” Lydia groaned, as Wendy’s shoulder crashed through her tight abs, driving all the wind from her body. And, this time, the blonde was in excellent position to take advantage of her rival’s infirmity.
Wendy started with a nasty chopping right hand that smashed into her rival’s jaw. Lydia groaned and her eyes glazed as Wendy brought the right hand back for a vicious back fist that cracked into the brunette’s nose. Lydia’s nose wasn’t broken, but it immediately began to bleed and it’s owner saw lights flash before her eyes.
Lydia’s head lolled, and Wendy, now sure of her command of the situation, changed the focus of her attack. She sunk both hands deep into Lydia’s breasts. At first, the pain only brought a little groan from the woozy brunette, but, soon, it broke through the fog in her brain and a scream was ripped from her throat. Her hands went to Wendy’s wrists and she tried to pull the blonde’s hands free. Wendy, however, had too much of a leverage advantage, so Lydia’s efforts were fruitless. And her screams got louder and more desperate.
“What’s the matter, bitch?” Wendy spat, pulling and tearing at Lydia’s big breasts through her shirt. Lydia did not respond. She couldn’t stop screaming long enough. Her eyes were filling with tears and her feet kicked wildly as she tried to buck the blonde woman off. But Wendy was in a commanding position and was able to maintain it despite all Lydia was doing. The blonde was on a mission with a singleness of purpose. And she was completely locked in on the mauling of Lydia’s breasts. And that turned out to be a bad thing for Wendy.
Realizing her efforts to dislodge her opponent were not going to work, Lydia changed tactics, and she moved like lightning. In an instant, her hands came away from Wendy’s arms, reached upward, and clawed at the blonde’s eyes. “Ahhhhhhhhh!” screamed Wendy, as Lydia’s nails raked down her face. The blonde forgot all about the brunette’s boobs, instead pulling her head back so violently that she actually lost her balance and fell over backward to the carpeted floor. Even before she began to go over, Wendy’s hands had come up to her face, giving Lydia’s battered breasts a much-needed respite.
As Wendy rolled into a ball, hands holding her eyes and blood welling in several scratches along her pretty face, Lydia rolled to her belly, and then got to her hands and knees. The movement jarred her firm boobs and stopped her cold with a gasp. Her hands came up to her breasts and she sat back on her haunches, rubbing her boobs, and trying to get her breath back.
Wendy, meanwhile, was trying to keep her eyes open for more than an instant, and failing to do so. Lydia had gotten her nails into both of them, and, though she did no serious damage, she’d done enough to, basically, blind her opponent, at least for the moment. And that was all the opening Lydia needed.
The brunette forced herself to her feet, still grimacing at the pain in her chest and now aiming to punish the bitch that put it there. Wendy sensed her rival coming and got to all fours just in time to take a vicious kick in the belly. “Ullllll!” Wendy screamed and fell right back to the floor, again rolling into a ball, this time with both hands on her guts. Lydia kept up the attack with two kicks into the middle of the blonde’s back. Wendy groaned each time and tried to roll away from her tormentor. A final kick to the head sent a woozy Wendy flopping to her back, gasping for air and groaning in pain.
Finally tiring of kicking away at her rival, Lydia stepped back and taunted her. “Get up, bitch.”
Wendy rolled to her belly, braced for a renewed attack, but it never came. She managed to get to all fours, then, slowly, to her feet. She still wasn’t able to see much, however, as her eyes were watering furiously and she was unable to keep them open despite her best efforts.
Lydia stepped forward and slammed a right hand into Wendy’s belly. The blonde groaned and reached forward to grab her rival. Lydia stepped back and swung a right hand that caught Wendy on the jaw and sent the blonde staggering backward. Somehow, Wendy kept her feet, but she might have been better off falling down.
As it was, Lydia followed and, literally, battered Wendy up against a wall. Punches were coming from everywhere, crashing into Wendy’s face, belly, kidneys, liver, and, especially her chest. Bomb after bomb ripped into those boobs, slamming them from side to side and crushing them against her rib cage. Wendy tried to cover up, but, still unable to see her rival, she could not successfully do so. She deflected a few punches, but the vast majority, over a dozen, slammed home. The blonde could do nothing but scream and groan her agony.
Finally, Wendy lurched forward blindly and was able to grab Lydia. She tried to trap her arms to stop the punches, but Lydia pounded two uppercuts into the blonde’s belly. Wendy gurgled and doubled over, clearly ready to go down. Lydia, though, wanted her up, so she planted two more uppercuts in the chest, one in each breast, leaving Wendy, once again, up against the wall.
The blonde swung a wild, blind punch that Lydia ducked. And then the brunette fired two, awesome short right hands. The first blasted Wendy’s right boob and brought a pitiable wail of anguish from the blonde. The second smashed Wendy’s left breast flat against her chest. The blonde only whimpered. And she fell to the carpet like a tree.
Lydia stopped then, breathing heavily, and admired her handiwork. Wendy was groaning and sobbing on the floor, her battered body in the fetal position. She slowly brought her hands to her breasts to cup those violated orbs lightly, but one almost immediately dropped to her belly. After that, the only movement that came from the blonde was a constant quivering shudder that was a combination of her crying and her body reacting to the pain.
After a few seconds respite to get her breath, Lydia moved in for the kill. The brunette grabbed the bottom of the back of the blonde’s T-shirt and yanked it upward, pulling it quickly over her rival’s head. She could see bruising on the blonde’s now bare back, and that brought a brief smile to the brunette’s face. Meanwhile, Wendy had begun struggling to remove the shirt, which played into Lydia’s hands. With Wendy’s arms now away from her breasts and belly, Lydia was able to pull the shirt completely off of the blonde. Wendy moaned, “Bitch…” and tried to roll to her belly, but Lydia’s right foot sinking into her left breast stopped her cold. “Ohhhhh!” Wendy screamed, her hands going back to her chest. And then, things went gray, almost black, after a brief flash of pain in her jaw. Lydia had landed a powerful kick that nearly turned out Wendy’s lights. The blonde flopped to her back, head lolling to one side, barely conscious.
Wendy was aware, dimly, of what was going on for the next few moments, but she could do nothing to stop it. She felt her shoes being pulled off and tossed aside, and then her socks. She felt the bitch unsnap and unzip her jeans. She felt herself being rolled to her belly and felt her pants coming off.
When Lydia had thrown the jeans aside, she rolled Wendy to her back again, using her right foot. Then she stopped once again to catch her breath. She watched as Wendy moaned and groaned, and looked at the blonde’s firm, nearly naked body. Only Wendy’s light blue bra and panties now covered her battered body, and Lydia could see bruising around her midriff and belly, bruises caused by the punches and kicks that she, Lydia had landed. And she wasn’t finished yet.
This was what Lydia had been wanting for years, since her original falling out with the finished blonde lying before her. Wendy, at her mercy. And there would be no mercy for the blonde. Not on this day.
“Get up, bitch!” Lydia spat. And, to her credit, Wendy tried to do so. She somehow rolled over to her belly and pushed to her hands and knees. Lydia stepped forward and ripped a left-footed kick into the right side of Wendy’s chest. The foot blasted into Wendy’s aching breast, brining a scream of agony from her, and the force of the blow flipped the blonde over to land flat on her back with a groan.
“Let’s see what’s left of those tiny tits of yours, slut,” Lydia growled, as she reached down and ripped off her rival’s bra. The sight of Wendy’s breasts, swollen and heavily bruised from the vicious pounding Lydia had given them, brought a smile to the brunette’s face. “Finished, just like you, whore.”
Wendy said nothing, but began to move rolling to her right hip in an attempt to rise. She made it to one elbow before collapsing back to the floor with a moan.
Lydia laughed. “You’re pathetic, you know that? Why don’t you just beg me to stop? Maybe I’ll even do it.”
“Fuck you, bitch…” Wendy groaned, and tried to sit up again.
“Have it your way, twat,” Lydia said through gritted teeth, and knocked Wendy to her back with another kick to the chest. Wendy squealed as the shoe hammered into her battered boob, then lay moaning on the carpet as Lydia sat down on her stomach.
The brunette sunk her fingers into the blonde’s breasts and began to squeeze. She used only relatively light pressure at first, but it was enough to bring a wail of agony from Wendy, as her breasts had been, literally, tenderized by Lydia’s punches. “Give up yet, bitch?” Lydia said with a smile.
Wendy responded by grabbing her rival’s wrists and pulling weakly at them. Lydia increased the pressure. “Oooooooooooohhhhhhhhh!” wailed Wendy and her body began to spasm from the pain.
“I’ll give you another chance,” Lydia said. “Beg me to stop!”
“Fuck you..OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Wendy screamed, as Lydia tightened her grip even further, her strong fingers now digging deeply into Wendy’s abused boobs. The blonde’s throat was torn by scream after scream as her bare feet thumped wildly against the carpet and her hips twisted back and forth. She yanked at Lydia’s wrists with all her strength, but couldn’t begin to remove the hands that were tearing into her boobs.
Finally, Lydia eased up, and Wendy’s screams became sobs. Her hands left Lydia’s wrists and grabbed her own breasts. “Ready yet, bitch?” Lydia said.
“Fuck you, bitch,” Wendy said between her sobs.
“Fine with me, Wendy,” Lydia said, getting to her feet. She kicked the blonde hard in the belly, and Wendy gurgled and rolled into a ball, her hands going to her midsection. She lay there, groaning and shaking, as Lydia sat down behind her. The brunette jammed her hands under Wendy’s arms and pulled her back, grabbing a boob in each hand and scissoring the blonde’s waist.
Wendy groaned as she felt Lydia’s powerful legs dig into her sides, and then screamed as the brunette’s fingers got back into her battered breasts. She grabbed at Lydia’s fingers, trying to pull them away, but the brunette had strong hands, and was, of course, in much better shape than her blonde rival. The effort gained Wendy nothing and Lydia’s fingers dug deeper.
With her rival sobbing and groaning, completely helpless in her clutches, Lydia whispered in the blonde’s ear. “Say it Wendy! Beg me, and I’ll stop.”
“Ahhhh….Fuck…oooooohhhh….you….ohhhhhh,” Wendy sobbed, feet once again kicking weakly, purposelessly against the carpet as her body shuddered in pain.
“You’re going to beg, bitch, or I’m going to ruin these tits permanently, and there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it. BEG!” Lydia screamed.
“You…fucking….bitch…OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Wendy wailed, as Lydia upped the ante, digging her long nails into the tender breast flesh.
The blonde’s body was convulsing now with pain. Wendy’s movements were so violent that, despite her dominant position, Lydia needed all her strength just to hold on. The blonde’s teeth were gritted, her face a mask of agony, her breathing extremely rapid, tears pouring down her face and sobs wrenching her torso. And, still, she would not submit.
Lydia could feel the blood running down her fingers now, as her nails made deep scratches in Wendy’s boobs. Lydia’s right index finger was digging deep into her rival’s right areola, and, even worse, the brunette’s left thumb was gouging the blonde’s left nipple. She knew Wendy couldn’t take much more of this. Lydia wondered why the blonde had not yet given up, but she knew the answer. She knew what she would do if the situations were reversed. She’d never give into the bitch. No matter what. Not in a million years. Even if the situation was completely hopeless.
“What’s the matter, Wendy?” Lydia whispered into the ear of her rival. “I thought you were going to rip my tits off. I can feel yours coming apart in my hands.”
Through her sobs, Wendy gasped, “Fucking bitch…ahhhh…fucking bitch…” as she continued to weakly pull at Lydia’s fingers. Still, she would not give in.
Lydia ripped her nails in deeper, listened to Wendy wail pathetically, then simply waited. Like she said, she had all night. And Wendy didn’t have much longer. Lydia could feel the other woman’s body fading fast, her struggles becoming feebler, even her spasms of pain getting weaker, as her body finally quit.
“Beg, bitch!” Lydia hissed into Wendy’s ear.
“Ahhh…my tits,” Wendy sobbed, “My fucking tits…”
“Give up, Wendy, while you still have tits.”
“Fuck you…ohhhhh!” Wendy squealed
“Fine, bitch,” Lydia hissed. Lydia tightened up her legs around her rival’s waist, bringing a little groan, and dug her nails even deeper into Wendy’s torn tits. She felt the blonde’s body tense and then shudder, but, soon, it began to relax again, and Wendy settled down into quiet sobs. Her own hands were still pulling at Lydia’s, but so weakly as to be barely felt. Her chest heaved with breathing and crying, but the rest of the blonde’s body was completely still. “How’s it feel, bitch?” Lydia asked. “How’s it feel to get your tits ripped off?”
“Ahhh….fucking cunt…” Wendy whimpered. And then, with a great shuddering sigh, she was still.
Lydia felt her opponent go limp and released the blonde, shoving her aside before getting up to stand, tiredly, but victoriously, over Wendy’s ravaged body. “Last stop bitch,” Lydia smirked. “Get off the train. It’s the end of the line.” Lydia then walked out the door, leaving her prone, bleeding rival on the floor.
The End