Tiffany wandered idly through the assembled guests at the party. This was her third time here, but still she felt the knot in her stomach. It was not quite as bad as the first time, but there was still tension in the air, and she felt it. She probably always would.
The Society was the most secretive, most exclusive, most lucrative group in the entire underground catfighting culture, at least in America. She had heard rumors of places in Europe and Asia – in Russia and Japan, particularly, but here there was nothing to rival the Society. She smiled to herself as she looked around her – she didn’t know that ‘underground’ was necessarily the right word to use here, forty floors above Times Square in the heart of Manhattan, in a palatial penthouse apartment.
From habit, she checked her appearance in the full-length mirror that made up one full wall of the enormous living room as she passed close. Her makeup was flawless, her large brown eyes accentuated with just a hint of eye shadow, her full lips cherry red. Her black cocktail-length dress left her arms bare, showing off her well-muscled but feminine shoulders, and clung to every curve of her lithe, buxom figure. She had always been proud of her appearance, always worked hard at it, but since being accepted to the Society, she had worked out even harder. Fighting here, and winning here, required nothing less than her very best.
She had not fought at the last gathering, and she did not know whether she would be called upon tonight. The rules by which fighters were chosen were still not entirely clear to her. In her first fight, the fight by which she had earned her place here, her opponent had been chosen by a vote among the audience. At her second gathering, there had been a personal challenge by one woman to another. This time, she had no idea what would happen. She supposed that was part of the reason for the knot in her stomach.
Nursing a glass of cranberry juice, she gazed around her, wondering who to talk to, which of the small groups of people to join. None of the women drank at the Society’s parties, at least not until after the evening’s fights had been concluded. You never knew if you were the one who might have to put her honor and dignity on the line. If so, you needed every ounce of your strength and wits.
“Well, look who it is!” said a voice close behind her. “Lucky!”
She turned to face the speaker, a curvaceous blonde perhaps a few inches taller than her, though that was tough to judge in high heels. The woman’s red dress stretched only to the tops of her long, shapely legs, and ‘stretched’ was the operative word as the dress hugged her rounded hips, slim waist, firm belly and voluptuous chest, which was amply shown off by the deep plunging neckline. The long sleeves sheathed her arms but her shoulders were broad and powerful. A gold metallic purse hung by a chain strap over her left shoulder, and the chain matched the slender necklace that surrounded her throat.
Tiffany recognized her. “Hello, Babs.” She smiled without warmth. “Lucky?”
“That’s what the girls at Claw Club have been calling you since you quit and came here.”
Claw Club was a catfight club – actually a Brazilian restaurant with a catfight club in the basement – in Newark, where Tiffany had made some decent money over the past year, before she was invited to the Society. Babs, or ‘Blondi’ as she called herself at the club, was another regular fighter there, a crowd favorite with her big boobs and blonde hair, even if it did come from a bottle. Tiffany just wished she would shell out the money to get her eyebrows tinted too. Blonde hair and black eyebrows just screamed ‘low rent.’
“I didn’t quit,” she corrected. “I left when I got the opportunity to come fight here. And they might call that lucky, but I call it hard work and talent that got me noticed.”
Babs’ eyes narrowed. “I still think it was a lucky break for you,” she replied, “in more ways than one.”
Tiffany arched her eyebrows. “Really? How do you figure that?”
“You and I never fought each other.”
Tiffany shook her head. “No, we never did.”
“Jose had us scheduled to fight that Friday night when you didn’t turn up at the club.”
Tiffany smiled thinly. “So you’re saying I was lucky I didn’t have to face you.”
“I’m saying, if these people here,” she waved her arm around her, “had seen me fight you, and seen what a mess I’d have made out of you, it would have been me getting invited here, not you.” The blonde’s emerald green eyes bored into Tiffany’s.
“You think so?” Tiffany’s eyebrows rose a little further. In your dreams, bitch.
She saw the muscles in Babs’ shoulders tense. “I know so.”
“Well, now you’re here anyway. First timer.” Babs nodded and a little of the confidence left her eyes. “You’re gonna find out, this is a whole different place than Claw Club.”
“I can handle it.”
“I guess you’ll find out real soon,” Tiffany assured her with a wink. “I’d wish you luck, but…well…” She let the sentence trail off, and turned her back on the blonde, walking away into the crowd. The cocky bitch would find out all right, and Tiffany knew it would be a painful lesson. This room contained some of the toughest and most vicious catfighters in the country, and all of them would be vying for fresh meat like Babs.
She made small talk with a few of the other people in the room, even one or two of the fighters with whom she had spoken at previous gatherings. Such conversations were often a little strained. You didn’t want to get too friendly with somebody when you might have to beat the hell out of them, the next time you met.
At last the host of the party, a man named Michael – Tiffany didn’t know his last name and wasn’t concerned anyway – raised his voice and called for attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the evening’s entertainment to commence.” There was a round of applause, but also a palpable tension in the air. This was what everyone was here for – the men just to watch, but the women to fight, to put their strength and skill on the line against the best opponents in the game. There was big money here – Tiffany had made more than forty thousand dollars in her first fight – but high stakes too. Losing here meant losing not only the fight, but suffering public degradation at the winner’s hands. Humiliation in front of the crowd was Tiffany’s biggest fear, but that fear only made her fight harder.
“First of all, let me welcome a newcomer to our little gathering,” continued Michael. “Barbara is here for the first time.” He beckoned and Babs stepped out of the crowd to stand beside him. “Though I believe you go by Babs.”
“That’s right,” she replied, smiling at the onlookers. If she was feeling nervous at all, Tiffany couldn’t see it. Then again, she had always been a cool one. Some of the girls at Claw Club had called her ‘the Ice Princess’ behind her back.
“As you already know, you don’t just get invited to join the Society,” Michael told her. “You’re invited here to prove yourself worth of membership…by fighting one of our existing members. If you win…even if you lose but fight well…you can be admitted.” He slipped his phone out of the pocket of his jacket. “For newcomers, we ask for nominations and conduct a poll to determine who gets to test you. So let’s call for – ”
Babs laid a hand on his arm. “Michael, can I ask a favor?”
He smiled. “You can ask, though granting it will depend on what it is.” There were a few chuckles from the watchers.
“Instead of calling for nominations, I have an idea. There’s somebody here I know, and I’ve been waiting to get my hands on her for a very long time.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “And who would that be?”
Babs looked straight at Tiffany and pointed. “Her. You know her as Tiffany. I call her the bitch who quit the Claw Club and ran away to hide here so she didn’t have to fight me.” Tiffany felt her face grow hot. That was a total lie! She hadn’t run away from anywhere, and certainly not because she was afraid to face Babs. She hadn’t even known they were supposed to fight until the blonde had told her tonight.
“I want her. After what I’m gonna do to her, you’ll be glad to have me in the Society.”
Michael paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. “Well, it’s a little irregular, but I have no objections unless anyone else does.” He looked around the room. Nobody said anything. Tiffany felt her pulse quicken. She was going to fight tonight.
“Tiffany?” asked Michael.
What could she say? If she refused Babs’ challenge and let it go to a vote, she was going to look like a coward unless she nominated herself. If she did so, the Society would probably elect her anyway, just to prevent her from backing out of the fight. That would be embarrassing in itself, and before the fight even started. No, she was going to fight this bitch, beat this bitch, humiliate this bitch.
“I’ll be glad to send her back to the minors with her tail between her legs,” she replied evenly. “That’s if she can still stand when I’m done with her!” She pointed her finger at Babs. “You can thank YOUR lucky stars you never got to fight me until now. Tonight though, your luck runs out!”
Michael raised his hands. “Let’s settle this in the approved manner, shall we ladies?” He beckoned two black-clad, blonde haired female attendants forward. “Off to your dressing rooms, and be back here in fifteen minutes, ready to fight.”
Tiffany followed one of the attendants from the room, down the dimly lit hallway and though an open door at the far end. The knot in her stomach grew tighter as she stepped into the bedroom with its broad view uptown. She remembered the last time she had been in this room, on her first night here, the night she had fought to prove her worthiness to stand in the Society. That night, there had been so much at stake – her big break, and whether she would make it or blow it. Tonight should be easier, she should have nothing to prove now – but it was not. This bitch had made it personal, called her a coward. Maybe some among the Society even believed it. Tiffany had to prove them wrong, to prove herself all over again, and there was only one way to do that. Babs would be lucky to crawl out of the room – more likely she would need to be carried out.
She set her black leather purse on the bed, before removing her shoes and placing them neatly on the floor nearby. She removed her diamond pendant and earrings – her own this time, purchased with part of her winnings from her first fight here – and slipped them into her purse.
Removing her dress, she laid it carefully on the bed so as not to crease it. She wore the bottom half of her bikini beneath the dress, a black mesh thong that rode low on her hips and barely covered the top of the neatly trimmed landing strip that adorned her mound. The solid trim around the edges and the straps over her hips were in a green-and-black camouflage pattern. This was the first time she had worn this outfit, purchased from a mail order house overseas just for fighting – a combat bikini, she thought to herself with momentary, mild amusement. She took her bikini top from her purse and held it up. Against the light, the mesh was somewhat see-through, and would give just a hint of her naked body beneath. Not that it would last more than a few minutes into the fight of course, but she wanted to look good for the audience.
Before she donned the bikini top, she crossed to the nightstand beside the bed, where a squeeze bottle of body oil stood beside a neatly typed sheet of paper. She scanned the paper, which contained the guidelines for the fight. There were the standard admonitions about taking an opponent’s bikini, about humiliation during and after the fight, but nothing different to what she had seen in her first fight. She had heard that the Society would sometimes add additional rules, just to make a fight even more interesting. Though she had yet to see such a thing, it paid to be careful.
Squeezing the oil into her hand, she smeared it lightly over her entire body from her neck to her ankles, even rubbing it beneath the brief bottom of her bikini and over the smooth firm orbs of her buttocks. She washed the remainder off her hands in the ensuite bathroom, then slipped the bikini top over her head, tucking it beneath her hair and tying the lower strap securely behind her back.
She stood and surveyed herself in the mirror. The muscles of her shoulders, arms and legs were well-defined and would be even more so after she stretched and warmed up, as she was about to do. Her belly was flat, firm with a hint of the strong musculature beneath. She was in better shape than she had been for her first fight here. While she had trained hard for that one, the fight itself had taught her just how brutal and exhausting it could be to fight in the Society. This was the big time. It required her to be at her best – and she was.
She took a deep breath and her big breasts swelled and thrust at the fabric of her top. Her nipples were already erect in anticipation of the fight, and the friction as they rubbed against the inside of the rough mesh made them harder still. Surveying herself carefully, she adjusted the top slightly over her left breast, then seated the bottoms better to cradle the slightly protruding flesh of her nether lips. Satisfied, she began her warm-up ritual.
When the knock came on the door seven minutes later, she was just tying the belt of the black silk robe around her waist, covering her bikini. “Ready?” asked the attendant. She was the same one who had brought Tiffany here the first time, but Tiffany didn’t know her name, or even think to ask. She had more pressing matters to occupy her mind – destroying Babs was all she could think about.
She emerged into the living room, where the crowd had now cleared away from the huge, thick black rug in the center of the room – the arena. The lights had been turned up, and it seemed warmer now, though maybe that was just Tiffany’s pulse racing, ready for the battle about to ensue.
Babs appeared from the other hallway a few moments later, and wasted no time, making her way onto the rug and right up to Tiffany. Now that they were both barefoot, Tiffany could see that the blonde was indeed taller than her, though only by two inches or so.
“I’m gonna show you up, Tiffany,” Babs promised. If there was any false bravado in her words, it didn’t show on her face as she once again stared steadily into Tiffany’s eyes. “I’m gonna show them that you don’t belong here, that they should have waited and picked me instead.” She stood so close that their robed breasts brushed one another, silk rustling on silk.
Tiffany’s eyes narrowed and she leaned into Babs a little. “You wanna know whether I belong here or not, ask the first bitch I fought to earn my place here. She’s still limping!” She stepped back, unfastening her robe, letting it slide down her arms to fall at her feet. There were murmurs of appreciation from the crowd, admiring looks from the men, and many of the women. “You got a big mouth, Babs. You sure you got the moves…and the body…to back it up?” She tensed her muscles, and the rumble in the crowd grew louder as they all observed the improvement in her golden-tanned body since she had last fought here.
Babs’ eyes traveled slowly down her body from head to toe and back again, taking in the magnificent swell of her bust, tapering down her strong, smooth torso to her slim waist and narrow hips, her well-defined arms and legs, the hint of her nipples and the dark stripe of her carefully coiffed pubic hair showing through the clinging mesh of her bikini. When their eyes met again, was there a slight hint of something less than absolute confidence in the blonde’s eyes? If so, it was gone before Tiffany could be sure it had even been there. This bitch must be one helluva poker player.
“I don’t know,” replied Babs levelly, “why don’t you decide for yourself?” She took a further step back from Tiffany, and opened her robe, holding it wide and displaying herself to Tiffany.
Tiffany’s eyes widened. Babs had lost some weight since Tiffany had last seen her, and she had obviously been spending a lot of time in the gym. Her abs were firm, flat with just the barest hint of a six-pack. The muscles of her shoulders, arms and legs were sculpted while remaining feminine. She was maybe ten pounds heavier than Tiffany, if that, and ten pounds wasn’t much – but then again, if it was solid muscle, then maybe it was.
Her chest – Tiffany tried not to stare too intently – was full, firm, her breasts straining at her thin, tight, almost sheer bikini top. They were as large, perhaps even larger, than Tiffany’s own, and just as shapely. The dark aureolas of her nipples were visible, the hard buttons of her nipples themselves pressing against the flimsy fabric. As Tiffany’s eyes roved downward over the blonde’s belly, she noticed the tiniest tuft of dark hair peeping over the top of the tiny bikini bottoms.
She recognized that bikini. It was identical in style and color to the one she had worn the first night she had fought here, against the vicious blonde Amanda who had taken her to the limits of her endurance and beyond. Now Babs stood before here, bronzed, sculpted, honed to a peak of fitness and wearing the same bikini. It was as though she were staring at another – blonder – version of herself. She choked back an urge to swallow hard.
How did she know? She hadn’t been here that night. How could she know? Had somebody told her? Obviously this was planned but by who? By Babs, or were there others involved? Was there something going on within the Society, some plot to bring her here just to fight Tiffany?
All these thoughts raced through Tiffany’s mind in an instant, and she felt her pulse begin to race out of control. With an effort she calmed herself. It didn’t matter now. None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was winning. That would show them all.
Babs let her robe slide down her arms, revealing herself to the entire room for the first time. The buzz of conversation erupted into a cacophony of sibilant whispers. Tiffany even heard a gasp from somewhere in the crowd. She took her gaze off Babs for a moment and looked around – the eyes of the onlookers were all feasting on the blonde. When she looked back at Babs, she saw the look – openly challenging, maybe even mocking.
Tiffany steeled herself, flexing her fingers at her sides. She wanted nothing more than to tear into the blonde this very instant. Bitch, I am SO going to enjoy wiping that look off your face.
Babs read the unspoken message. “I’m gonna show you up so bad, you won’t be able to show your face here, ever again!”
Tiffany’s lip curled in a sneer, as she turned and backed away across the arena into her starting position, beckoning the blonde forward. “Come on, blondie. When I’m done with you, not even Claw Club will want what’s left of you.” She was under no illusions though. This was going to be tough – maybe even tougher than Amanda, and that had been the hardest fight of her life.
Michael stepped out to the edge of the arena and looked at both of them. “Ladies?” Tiffany nodded to him. Let’s get this thing started. Babs nodded in turn. He clapped his hands sharply together. “Let’s fight!”
(FIGHT)
Before Michael had even lowered his hands, the two women launched themselves across the arena at one another. Tiffany crouched slightly as she charged, aiming her shoulder at Babs’ ribs just under her breasts, bracing herself to send the other woman flying onto her back. That would show her who was stronger.
Babs too ran full tilt toward Tiffany, her arms outstretched, ready to get to grips with Tiffany’s hair. An instant before impact though, she also ducked and whirled, grabbing Tiffany’s arm, pulling Tiffany into her out-thrust hip. Before Tiffany could halt her own lunge, she found herself flying through the air, over the big blonde’s body to land with a jarring thud on the rug.
She took the impact on her shoulder, tucking her chin in, rolling over twice and twisting so that she rolled up onto her knees facing back the way she had come. Her breasts bounced inside her bikini top but the tight straps held. She tossed her head back to flick her hair out of her eyes. Damn, the bitch was fast!
Babs was on her before she could rise, shoving a hand in her hair, dragging her forward. “Come to momma, bitch! Time for – ” Her snarling words cut off suddenly as Tiffany buried her fist in Babs’ belly, right over her navel. The blonde’s abs were hard but the punch came all the way from the floor with all the force Tiffany could muster, and Babs hunched over with a harsh grunt of pain.
Tiffany surged to her feet, using the power of her legs and torso to send a vicious uppercut to the blonde’s chin. The blow straightened Babs up and whipped her body backwards, sending her reeling. She stumbled, lost her balance and went down hard on her ass on the thick rug.
Now it was Tiffany’s turn to pounce. Before her dazed opponent could recover, she leapt forward, grabbing Babs by the hair, dragging her head back even further and throwing a leg over the blonde’s body. Gripping Babs’ head tight, she clamped her thighs together around her opponent’s neck, trapping Babs in a sitting position as she applied the head scissors.
“What was that you were saying, you big dumb bimbo?” she sneered, staring down between her breasts into Babs’ flushed face, growing redder by the moment as she poured more and more pressure into the hold. The blonde’s face was mere inches from Tiffany’s crotch. “Told you before, bitch…you got a big mouth. Tonight I’m gonna shut it for you!” With her free hand, she delivered a back-handed slap that snapped Babs’ head savagely to one side. The blonde groaned.
“Look at you, you low rent whore!” taunted Tiffany as she wrenched hard on Babs’ bangs. “If you’re going to be a fake blonde, at least spend the effort to get your eyebrows done too!”
Babs’ arms slapped at Tiffany’s sides, hips and butt, trying to get her fingers between Tiffany’s thighs in a vain attempt to pry them apart. There was no way she was going to do that. Tiffany had spent a lot of painful time on the thigh machine and her muscles were like steel cables. Babs kicked her legs wildly, her heels scrabbling at the rug as she tried to pull her feet up under her. Her face grew darker, her eyes wider as she fought to breathe, flecks of spittle appearing at the corners of her mouth.
“Stupid skank, you got no idea what you’ve got yourself into!” Tiffany shook her captive’s head violently again. “It’s a long way from Claw Club to here, blondie…and you’re gonna feel every foot of it as I send you crawling back there!” She slapped Babs hard across the face again.
Babs clamped her hands tight round Tiffany’s thighs, trying to push her backward, but Tiffany leaned her body forward and laughed mockingly. “Struggle all you like, bitch, you’re only making it worse for yourself.” She gazed around her at the crowd. “All these people can see you don’t have what it takes! Just a big-mouthed loser!”
Anger blazed in Babs’ green eyes and she gripped Tiffany’s thighs even tighter, the muscles of her arms and shoulders straining as she forced her lower body upward, bridging up off the floor. Tiffany stumbled forward a step, carrying her trapped enemy with her, struggling for balance.
Suddenly Tiffany felt the blonde’s body tense even more, and she realized too late that Babs had gathered her legs beneath her body, getting enough leverage to – oh SHIT! She screamed out loud in shock as Babs lurched to her feet with a bellow of rage, lifting Tiffany bodily off the floor.
She clawed frantically at Babs’ hair, her nails tearing at the blonde’s scalp to make her let go, but at the same time struggling to stay upright, knowing that a fall – or even worse, a suplex – from this height would be devastating. She clenched her thighs even tighter around the blonde’s neck, eliciting a renewed roar of pain, and struggled to keep her balance as Babs staggered this way and that, her face now pressed tight into Tiffany’s groin.
Suddenly she felt Babs’ grip on her left thigh change, and the blonde’s hand reached up to grab the crotch of her thong tight, squeezing hard. She screamed in agonized rage. “You dirty BITCH!” and squirmed violently to get away from the pain.
The vice-like grip of her thighs slackened for a moment as she thrashed about, and that moment was all Babs needed. Twisting to her left, she leaned in the same direction, pitching Tiffany over to her side. Tiffany cried out involuntarily as she almost fell, but then she wished she had indeed fallen as she felt Babs’ hand grip her throat just under her chin. With a resurgent roar of triumph, the blonde slid the heel of her hand under Tiffany’s mound and Tiffany suddenly found herself held aloft, screaming and squirming, six feet above the floor.
“Big-mouthed loser, am I?” gasped Babs, her voice tight with the strain as her arms and legs trembled. Tiffany screamed and writhed in her assailant’s arms, trying to break herself free. “How’s THIS for what it takes!!!” She dropped her arms, and Tiffany fell the six feet to the floor, crashing down on her side with a sickening jolt as the blonde stumbled backwards away from her.
She lay there a moment, groaning, every fibre of her body hurting. Her left breast had popped free of her bikini top as she slammed into the floor but she couldn’t take the time to cover it again. She forced herself to roll over, willing herself to rise, knowing she was in all sorts of trouble if Babs got to her while she was down. Against the screaming protests of her battered body, she pulled her knees under her. Somewhat surprised that she made it to her feet without a new assault, she stared at Babs, trying not to let her apprehension show. Holy fuck, this bitch was inhuman!
Thankfully Babs had not pressed her advantage. She stood in the same place, her massive chest rising and falling as she gulped air into her starved lungs. Her face was still flushed dark, and sweat glistened on her honey-tanned skin. Tiffany could see just how much that last move had taken out of her.
Tiffany took a deep breath. She had thought her fight against Amanda was the fight of her life. She had been wrong. This would be something beyond tough. This was going to require everything she had – but she would do it. She clenched her fists and took a step toward the blonde. “Now it’s my turn, BITCH!”
She increased her pace as she approached Babs, throwing herself at the blonde as her final word “BITCH!” echoed round the room. Babs too seemed to snap out of her reverie, leaping forward with arms outstretched. Tiffany was wary of another trick but Babs simply flung herself forward, and their bodies slammed together with teeth-rattling force. “UNNGGGHH!!!”
Tiffany threw her arm around her opponent holding her tight, snaking her hand up into Babs’ hair, wrenching her head back brutally. Her strong thighs strained as her body pressed tight against Babs’, chest to chest, their sweat-slicked breasts crushed between them as each struggled for supremacy, desperate to dominate the other.
Babs got a hand into Tiffany’s hair too, nails clawing at the back of Tiffany’s head, and Tiffany clenched her teeth against the pain. “You wanna pull some hair, blondie?” she growled. “Two can play at that game!” She rotated her wrist, twisting a thick clump of Babs’ hair around her hand, and shook the blonde’s head savagely from side to side, putting as much strain as she could on her enemy’s neck, already injured from the head scissors earlier. Babs shrieked in pain.
Twisting her body, Babs shoved her other hand between them, thrusting her fingers upward between their bellies, reaching for the underside of Tiffany’s bare left breast, gripping, twisting hard. Tiffany groaned through gritted teeth, but steeled herself. She was no stranger to pain, and she could dish it out just as well as she could take it. She yanked even harder at Babs’ head.
She focused her power in her legs, matching the blonde strength for strength, holding her back. Babs’ breath raspd in her ear, their heads close to each other. She twisted her head to the side, wrenching on Babs’ hair too, and found herself staring into the blonde’s venomous eyes. “I’m gonna destroy you, bitch!” snarled Babs, straining even harder against Tiffany’s chest. Their nipples dueled, rubbing roughly against one another, and Tiffany felt a slight shiver run through her opponent, just as it did through her, even through the pain as the blonde squeezed cruelly at her breast.
They remained locked in their grim struggle, each gaining a momentary advantage, driving the other back, only to be driven back in turn. Through the racing of her heart, the pounding of her pulse, she heard the murmured comments of the closest onlookers. “Babs is going to take her…she’s got the size and strength.” “No…size isn’t everything…Tiffany’s a total warrior.”
That word – warrior – pierced her to the core, breaking through the shell that until now had kept her from tapping into something deep down inside her. A warrior – she was a warrior, with a warrior’s spirit. Hearing it, knowing it, helped her tap into it, and with a roar of rage she reached through the pain, found new strength and pushed the blonde back a step.
“In your dreams, Barbie!” she hissed. Her own hand snaked between their bodies, her thumb digging deep into Babs’ navel. Spreading her fingers across Babs’ lower belly, she hooked her nails, gripping tight, clawing with all the strength she could muster, adding her own liberal dose of pain to their desperate test of strength.
Babs screamed anew and pulled her hand away from Tiffany’s breast, grabbing for Tiffany’s wrist. Tiffany pulled her hand away, locking her fingers with Babs’ and raising her hand, pushing now with her arm as well as her legs and body, pouring every ounce of strength into her quest for physical dominance, as both women roared with all-consuming rage.
The audience held its breath.
Tiffany strained against her enemy with everything she had. It was like pushing against a brick wall as Babs fought back with implacable force – but even brick walls could be toppled with enough strength and enough tenacity. She prayed she had enough of both.
Babs gave a long, low groan of extreme effort, and Tiffany was pushed back a step. She braced her leg again, her bare feet gripping the thick rug, toes curling into it. With a feral grunt of her own, she pressed her breasts even harder into the blonde’s chest, twisting her enemy’s head further as she did so. Babs growled from the pain in her neck, and Tiffany made a soft sound of mild elation as she regained the ground she had lost.
The blonde pulled her hand out of Tiffany’s hair and grabbed her shoulder instead, trying to gain more leverage. Tiffany wasn’t going to let that happen, grasping Babs’ hand in her own, locking up hand to hand, chest to chest. Babs growled, leaning in harder. “Gonna break you, bitch!”
Tiffany did the same. “Big talk, blondie!” The last word came in a savage grunt and she took another step forward, powering upward, lifting her arms, dragging Babs’ own arms with her. She felt the blonde waver, her breasts sliding up higher on Babs’ chest, then shoved her leg forward as again she forced her enemy back another step. The crowd burst into sibilant whispers.
“You got some showy moves, skank” hissed Tiffany through her tight clenched teeth, “but this is about more than showing off!” Her arms lifted higher, pressing down as well as backward now, and she felt Babs’ straining body begin to give under the pressure. A surge of adrenalin coursed through her and she screamed in exultation as she forced the blonde down onto one knee. Staring to her enemy’s eyes, she saw a hint of uncertainty – maybe even of fear – taint the hatred there.
“Anybody can be superwoman for a moment,” she sneered, bearing down even harder, lifting Babs’ arms high above the blonde’s head, “but it’s about the WHOLE fight.” Babs’ other leg buckled and she went down onto both knees, her arms quivering, every muscle bunched tight as she fought against Tiffany’s inexorable pressure. “And we just showed everybody who’s REALLY the stronger woman, huh bitch?”
That comment pierced the blonde – she could see the momentary flash of shame in the deep green eyes, though it was quickly masked by anger. “Fuck…you…” grunted Babs as she strained to hold Tiffany back. Sweat ran down her face, plastering her hair against her bronzed skin. Her voluptuous chest heaved with exertion, her whole body trembling as she struggled in vain to push back up. Tiffany smiled in triumph.
She pulled her leg back to deliver a vicious stomping kick to Babs’ unprotected belly, but suddenly Babs stopped pushing back. Instead she jerked her arms downward and forward, breaking free of Tiffany’s grip. Too late, Tiffany realized that the devious bitch was feinting, making her focus too much. As the counter-pressure from Babs’ arms disappeared, she stumbled into the blonde, throwing her foot forward to prevent herself from toppling over her opponent’s shoulder.
With an elated whoop, Babs lunged forward and locked both hands around Tiffany’s calf, pushing up off her knees and jerking Tiffany’s leg up with her. Her head slammed into Tiffany’s lower belly in the middle of her bikini bottoms, right over her mound, and she reeled backwards, unable to keep her balance, and fell hard on her back with the blonde half across her legs.
Before she could push herself away, the blonde scrambled up astride her waist, again reaching for her breasts, grabbing, squeezing, twisting. Tiffany howled in pain and shoved her own arms out to grab Babs by her bikini top, yanking violently left and right as she rocked her hips and thrust with her legs, trying to throw her opponent off her. Babs’ breasts bounced free of the fragile confines of her top, and Tiffany abandoned her grip, instead latching onto her assailant’s swinging orbs themselves, wrenching on them savagely as she fought desperately to free herself from beneath the blonde.
“Your stupid test of strength doesn’t mean a damn thing, slut!” snarled Babs through the pain. “You’ll just be the strongest tongue that’s ever licked my pussy as I ride your face in front of the whole room!”
“We’ll see who’s licking who when I’m done with you, you bottle-blonde bimbo!” sneered Tiffany.
Babs let go of Tiffany’s left breast for a moment and backhanded her viciously across the face. “Shut your mouth, bitch! You can open it when I damn well tell you to!”
Tiffany clenched her teeth as new rage flooded through her, and she gave a mighty heave with her legs and wrenched savagely sideways on the blonde’s breasts in a furious attempt to throw her opponent off her. The bitch was going to pay DEARLY for that!
Babs grabbed Tiffany’s wrists and tore her hands free with a scream of agony as Tiffany’s fingers dragged on the soft flesh of her breasts. She shoved her body forward, driving Tiffany’s arms to the floor either side of her head. Babs hovered over Tiffany with an evil smile. “How strong do you feel now, slut?” Sweat dripped from her dangling, tangled hair into Tiffany’s face. Tiffany tasted the blonde on her lips. A tiny voice in the back of her mind wondered if that was a hint of things to come. NO! She forced the thought from her mind. Don’t even think about it!
Babs leaned lower, her breasts pressing into Tiffany’s own, crushing them into her ribs. Tiffany jerked her arms, trying to pull free, but Babs held her tight. The blonde inhaled deeply and her erect nipples jabbed into Tiffany’s heaving breasts. “You’re finished. You know it!”
Tiffany strained mightily, fighting back the urge to panic. “You…wish…BITCH!” Her legs kicked wildly, trying to find a purchase, trying to force herself up off the floor.
Babs sneered down at her, and she thrust her left leg down inside Tiffany’s right, hooking her shin inside Tiffany’s knee, forcing her leg outward. Tiffany squealed in fright as she understood her enemy’s objective – a grapevine hold. Once locked up like that, the blonde would control her completely. She couldn’t let that happen! She couldn’t! With a strength born of terrible fear, she screamed out loud and wrenched her arms free.
Babs snatched frantically at her wrists to regain her grip but Tiffany heaved her hips off the rug, bucking the blonde upward. She almost sobbed with relief as she managed to shake her leg free, and slammed her knees up into the backs of Babs’ thighs, pitching the other woman further up over her, her sweat-slicked breasts pressing down into Tiffany’s face.
Tiffany saw her opportunity and seized it. Bridging up off the floor again with a roar of effort, she gripped the straps of Babs’ bikini over the blonde’s broad hips and yanked hard, shooting the blonde up over her head as she scooted downward between her enemy’s legs. As her shoulders came free she drove the heels of her open hands up hard into Bab’s butt cheeks, shoving the blonde further forward and freeing herself. There was applause from the onlookers at her ingenious escape.
She rolled over, pushing up onto her knees. Her chest was heaving, her heart pounding from the exertion and the adrenalin. She felt light-headed. She needed to separate herself from her opponent, give herself a moment to recover.
As she half-rose, a hand grabbed the back of her bikini bottoms.. “No you don’t, slut!” snarled Babs, jerking her backward. “You’re not getting away from me!” Tiffany fought a surge of panic as the blonde dragged her back a step. She stumbled and went down on one knee, putting a hand down to keep herself from falling on her face.
Babs’ other hand grabbed her leg and Tiffany kicked violently, desperate not to let her enemy get control of her again. She felt her leg come free and squirmed her hips frantically as the blonde dragged her thong down. She threw herself forward with all her might, wriggling out of the thong, kicking out as she felt it slide down below her knees. Being naked was nothing, and it was a damn sight better than being trapped on her belly at Babs’ mercy. Her foot struck something solid. Babs grunted and fell backward, allowing Tiffany to scramble away.
Reaching her feet, backing up, she whirled to face her adversary. Babs was just now rising, snarling, swiping her hair off her face. She hurled Tiffany’s thong aside, a look of frustrated fury distorting her features. “You’re just…prolonging it…slut!” Her breasts rose and fell as she drew air into her lungs. There was a dark mark on her chest above her right breast, where Tiffany’s foot had struck her. Her hair hung limply around her head, dripping with sweat. She looked as tired as Tiffany felt. “I’m going…to break you…” she gasped, “like a twig…while everybody watches!”
“You’re all…talk,” panted Tiffany as she too caught her breath. She did not take her eyes off the blonde – did not dare to – as she pulled her bikini top over her head and tossed it away, standing naked in the bright lights, her body shining with sweat. “We’ll see who breaks who!”
Babs lunged at her and she shoved herself forward too. Their bodies came together again with a loud slap of glistening flesh, straining against each other once more. Babs threw her arms around Tiffany’s waist, squeezing tight in a bear hug, pressing her body forward, arching Tiffany’s back. Their breasts crushed one another, faces inches apart in a bizarre parody of a lovers’ embrace as they hissed and snarled at one other like wild animals.
“Gonna…crush you!” grunted Babs, pouring the pressure into Tiffany’s spine.
Tiffany snorted derisively in her face. “Yeah…that’s going well for you so far!” Staring into her enemy’s eyes, she saw the anger flare at her biting remark – and maybe something else too. Was that a new hint of uncertainty?. She felt a new rush of adrenalin.
Bending her knees, she slid her body downward slightly, a move made easier by the perspiration that drenched them both. Gripping Babs tight around her waist, her fingers hooked in the strap of the blonde’s thong, she let out a power scream as she exploded upward. Babs screamed as her thong dug deep into her crotch, rising instinctively onto her toes, her face pinched in pain.
Tiffany roared in savage elation at the look on her enemy’s face. She surged forward, breaking Babs’ bear hug and sending the blonde stumbling backward, fighting for her balance, almost falling. Tiffany stood in a fighter’s crouch, relishing the growing frustration on the other woman’s flushed face. “What’s the matter, bitch?” She wiped her hair out of her eyes. “Running out of steam?”
Babs used one finger to pull her thong out from between her nether lips, wincing. She did not bother to reply, merely growled a wordless challenge. They threw themselves at one another yet again.
Again their bare bodies slammed together with the sharp sound of flesh on flesh, sweat on sweat. Babs gripped Tiffany tight, arms around her, nails digging into the flesh of her back, screaming with hatred. Tiffany too slid her arms around her enemy’s waist, clawing at the blonde’s butt cheeks. There was no attempt at skill or finesse now. The time for such things was past. This was all-out war. They strained at one another, muscles popping, roaring like two crazed tigers.
Babs twisted her hands in Tiffany’s hair and hauled her head back. Tiffany screamed, her eyes clenched tight shut, teeth bared in a savage rictus of agony. Her own hands scrambled across the firm flesh of Babs’ ass, searching for a grip, something to claw, to rend, desperate to hurt the bitch.
Her fingers once again found the straps of Babs’ thong and with a roar of fury she jerked upward on both sides again. Babs shrieked in pain and anger. “Oh you filthy WHORE!”
Tiffany snarled back at her, hauling up on either side of her enemy’s thong in turn. “Shut up, bitch! You had no problem getting your hands on MY pussy earlier, so shut up and TAKE IT!”
“Fight dirty all you want!” hissed Babs, her face twisted in pain. “It’s gonna be the same in the end…I’m bigger, stronger than you…you’re gonna be my BITCH!”
Tiffany sneered. “You’re bigger…FATTER than me! Those big ol’ child-bearing hips…don’t count for much in a fight!” She heaved even harder, jerking the blonde up onto her toes, and Babs’ pitiful scream was so loud that it hurt her ears.
Babs’ legs buckled and she toppled sideways, dragging Tiffany down to the floor along with her. They both hit hard on their sides, the blonde letting out another scream as the impact tore Tiffany’s hands away from her thong, wrenching it savagely into her loins.
Tiffany sprang at her, arms out, grasping. Babs lifted her butt and backpedalled on her hands and heels, lashing out with her foot to keep Tiffany at bay. Tiffany batted her leg aside and lunged, getting her fingers into the top of the blonde’s thong again, this time at the front. Babs shrieked – was that fear in her tone? – and threw herself backward, but Tiffany had a strong grip on her thong and, with a staccato sound of torn stitching, the straps on both sides gave way. Tiffany fell on her side, the ruined thong clutched in her hand, while Babs sprawled on her back.
Rising to her feet, Tiffany held up the wreckage of the thong, now no more than a scrap of wet, almost transparent fabric. “Well I guess that settles the wedgie question, huh?” She took the flimsy front panel in both hands, digging her nails in. Staring at Babs as the blonde rose to her feet, wincing, she flexed the muscles of her arms and shoulders and, growling with the effort, tore the cloth asunder.
“Bitch!” snarled Babs.
“What do you care?” Tiffany snapped back. “You’re gonna lose it anyway when you scream for mercy, a few minutes from now!”
“You WISH! I’ll be taking yours as a trophy instead, SLUT!” Babs launched herself at Tiffany, ducking low, aiming her shoulder at Tiffany’s midriff.
Tiffany hurled the scraps of fabric aside and dodged sideways, reaching out to grab Babs’ hair and spin her past like a matador with a bull, but the blonde’s outstretched arm encircled her waist even as she twirled. Babs’ shoulder slammed into the side of her belly, off target, not enough to wind her but it hurt like hell and she cried out in pain. She managed to get enough of a grip on her opponent’s hair to hurl Babs away from her, even as she stumbled sideways. Babs too went sprawling, fell, rolled and came to her knees as Tiffany went down on her side. She pushed herself up on her knees as the blonde regained her feet, and braced herself. “Time to finish this, bitch…and to finish you!” She rose to meet her enemy.
Their bodies crashed together for what Tiffany knew would be the final time. This would decide it, win or lose. She could see the blonde had nothing left in reserve – but neither did she.
As she reached out to lock her hands with Babs’ once more, the blonde ducked right. Before Tiffany could counter, Babs grabbed her left wrist with both hands, whirling her around and getting behind her. She twisted her body frantically back toward the blonde but Babs’ right arm whipped under her own, hand hooking behind her neck in a half-nelson.
She cocked her left elbow and threw it backward aiming for her enemy’s head but Babs was too close to her, firm breasts pancaked against Tiffany’s back. Her other arm slid up around Tiffany and she shrieked in shock and horror as she found herself trapped in a full nelson.
“Now you’re screwed, slut!” mocked Babs, her lips close by Tiffany’s ear. “Let’s see you get out of this one, lucky girl” She strained, groaning, arching her back, using her several inches of extra height to lift Tiffany up onto her toes.
Tiffany kicked out, shaking herself violently to one side, then the other, trying to escape the hold. Her breasts swung wildly, slapping hard against Babs’ forearms but she ignored that pain – it was nothing compared to what would happen if she didn’t break free. She knew she didn’t have the strength left to endure this for long.
Babs groaned with the strain of keeping her aloft, and gradually Tiffany’s feet sank back to the floor, though the blonde pulled back wickedly on her shoulders, sending stabbing pain down her arms. Tiffany forced herself to suppress the panic to think. She stopped trying to reach behind her head, to grasp Babs’ hair. In this position, her arms were useless – she needed something else. As Babs momentarily relaxed the pressure on her shoulders, she threw her arms up high, let her legs fold under her and dropped downward.
Surprised, Babs tightened her grip but Tiffany’s slippery body was already sliding out of her grasp. Babs grabbed for Tiffany’s raised wrists but Tiffany whirled in a crouch and slammed her steepled fingers up into the blonde’s belly. “OOPPHH!!” Babs reeled backward, clutching her midriff.
Tiffany attacked, driving herself to her feet despite the protests of her aching muscles. She threw her arms around Babs, grabbing her right wrist in her other hand behind the blonde’s waist, digging her knuckles in as she squeezed with all her strength. “Let me show you how a bear hug SHOULD be done, barbie!”
Babs groaned as Tiffany bent her back, but managed to wriggle her hands out from between their bodies and threw them around Tiffany’s waist. “No, bitch! Let ME show YOU!” she grunted.
Tiffany felt Babs’ knuckles driving into the small of her back, arching her spine, their bellies pressed tight together. She ground her teeth hard together, summoning the last of her strength, and forced her chest forward into her enemy, their breasts crushed between their struggling bodies. The muscles of Babs’ neck bulged, and Tiffany felt her hot breath against her own cheek.
Then she felt the blonde’s ankle hook behind her own. “YES!!!” hised Babs. Her foot jerked backward hard, taking Tiffany’s leg out from under her. As Babs surged forward, she fell with a scream of anguish.
Tiffany slammed down hard on her back, with Babs on top of her. The air rushed out of her lungs, but she knew the blonde was winded too. She threw her arm tight around her enemy’s neck to prevent Babs from sitting up and straddling her. Babs pressed her hands up under Tiffany’s chin, groaning aloud with the effort as she tried to force Tiffany’s head back and push herself up at the same time.
Clinging grimly to Babs neck despite the terrible strain on her own, Tiffany kicked her legs wildly, throwing herself from side to side, trying to get enough leverage to toss her enemy off her. Babs spread her knees and kept her balance, growling into Tiffany’s ear. “Fight all you want, bitch! You’re mine!”
Tiffany slid her other hand between their bodies, reaching for Babs’ bare breast, sinking her fingers deep into the soft flesh and twisting hard, trying to hurt the bitch enough to make her disengage. She was running out of options. Babs roared in pain as Tiffany’s thumb ground into her hard nipple. She ceased pushing Tiffany’s head back, and instead reached for Tiffany’s wrist, trying to drag it away from her tortured breast. Tiffany gripped even harder, groaning with the strain, but Babs gave a savage grunt and tore her hand loose, slamming it down to the floor beside her head, leaning down on her wrist, pinning it to the floor.
Screaming, writhing, Tiffany fought frantically to get free, slamming her knees up in a desperate, attempt to hammer Babs’ butt and thighs. As she did so, she felt the blonde press down harder onto her body and before she knew it, Babs had thrust both legs downward around hers, ankles hooking inside her knees, shins sliding down along her calves. Tiffany knew what her adversary was doing – the grapevine again – and fought frenziedly to free her legs but this time Babs had her locked up tight. “Gotcha this time, bitch!” she hissed. “Like I told you…tonight’s the night your luck runs out!”
Those words echoed deep inside Tiffany. She threw her head back, arching her back, shrieking with the effort as she poured every ounce of strength into her legs and lower body, trying to force her legs free. She wrenched on Babs’ hair, jerking the blonde hard to the right, eliciting a scream of pain, but Babs held on grimly and suddenly Tiffany’s own shriek of effort turned to one of pain as Babs forced her legs wide apart, sending lances of pain down the insides of her thighs.
She had to get free – had to, or it was all over. With a renewed scream of rage she twisted her fingers savagely in Babs’ hair, but the blonde reached up to grab her wrists, digging her thumb in. “Give it up, slut…you’re only making this worse!” Tiffany ignored her and tore even harder at her hair, ripping a clump of it from Babs’ head as the blonde howled in agony. That cost her her grip on the blonde’s head however, and before she could grab hold again, Babs forced her arm down to the rug.
“NO!!!” she screamed. She was pinned! Helpless! She shook her arms violently but though Babs was just as exhausted as her, the blonde had the leverage and Tiffany did not. She remained pinned in place, Babs hovering close above her with a cruel smile on her face.
“Go on, squirm, skank! Show them how pathetic you are!” Tiffany bridged her hips upward, pumping them hard, bucking violently, trying to shake free. Babs smirked down into her face. “Mmmm, that feels kinda nice…do it some more!” Tiffany wailed in anguish as Babs forced her legs further and further apart. “You’re giving them a nice show now, slut!”
Tiffany’s face flushed dark with anger and embarrassment as she realized her legs were gaping wide, her most intimate flesh displayed to the audience. She didn’t care about showing her pussy – in a fight, as part of the action – but not like this! Not when she was pinned, forced – helpless. “So…are you!” she snarled through her clenched teeth.
Babs laughed. “Maybe, but I’m doing it by choice. YOU’RE doing it because I’m making you my BITCH – loser!”
That word stabbed Tiffany in the heart. She was going to lose. The blonde was going to beat her – show her up in front of the whole Society, prove her lying words right! Panic took hold of her and she pumped her hips even harder, struggling with all her waning strength – but in vain. “NNNOOOOOO!!!”
“SURRENDER, SLUT!”
“FUCK…YOU!!!” The words sounded hollow even in her own ears, but what could she do!? She couldn’t surrender. She couldn’t let the bitch show her up! She COULDN’T!!!
“Stupid skank!” hissed Babs in her face. “Too dumb to know when to quit. Have it your way then!” She wriggled herself up on top of Tiffany’s body a few inches, until her bosom pressed into Tiffany’s chin. “If you won’t give up, I’ll have to smother you out!” She slid further up over Tiffany, until her breasts covered Tiffany’s mouth and nose.
No! NO!!! She couldn’t let that happen! She had never seen a knockout or a smother here, had no real idea of what might happen, but she was all too familiar with the humiliation meted out to losers, and terrible visions filled her mind, of what awful ways the victorious Babs might abuse her unconscious body for the amusement of the audience. That thought was too much to bear. She squirmed frantically once again, but Babs held her tight, pressing her chest downward into Tiffany’s face.
With a final scream of despair, Tiffany pushed her head back as far as she could, freeing her mouth. Hating herself even more than the blonde in that moment, she screamed out, “All right! ALL RIGHT!!! I GIVE!!!” Her voice cracked, dissolving into a wracking sob as she heard her own words, and the tears came.
Babs maintained the hold for a moment, but lifted her body up a little, giving Tiffany room to breathe. “Damn RIGHT you do!” Slowly she slid Tiffany’s arms, unresisting now, up above her head as she smiled in cruel triumph down into Tiffany’s flushed face. Tiffany’s tears flowed anew at the look in the blonde’s eyes – victory, and a spiteful anticipation of what was to come. She couldn’t look – she closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, biting her lip.
Only then did Babs untangle her legs from Tiffany’s. She let go of Tiffany’s wrists, but Tiffany did not even try to move her arms. She was so spent that they felt as though she was shackled to the floor.
She felt Babs slide up into a kneeling position astride her waist. There was a pause. Tiffany tried not to think of the blonde gazing down at her in victory, of the audience watching as she lay there, defeated, at the mercy of her enemy.
Babs’ fingers touched her belly, either side of her navel, and glided slowly upward over her sweat-slicked skin, fingertips stroking her ribs, then rising further to trace around the undersides of her breasts. Her hands spread across the soft flesh, and Tiffany tensed herself. The bitch was going to savage her breasts and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
To her surprise, Babs did not dig her nails in to tear at her breasts. Instead, she spread her fingers wider, holding them firmly, lifting them, almost as though she were weighing them in her hands. Tiffany remained as still as a statue, wondering what the bitch was doing, what she was thinking. She dared not open her eyes, dared not look up into Babs’ face, terrified of what she would see there.
Babs held Tiffany’s breasts more firmly as she lifted them higher, the pressure of her fingers increasing, slowly. Tiffany held her breath. She almost wanted the blonde to rip at her. Pain she could deal with, but being handled like this – as though she was some new possession, being examined carefully for the first time – was almost too much to take. A voice inside her screamed at her to get away, to make this stop, but she knew she couldn’t. She had nothing left with which to fight.
The blonde’s fingers squeezed tighter, and the pressure turned to mild pain. Still she forced herself to remain still, a last shred of resistance, clamping her teeth tight together. The force of Babs’ grip became gradually greater and greater. She tried to block it out, to think of something else, but the something else that sprang into her mind was the vision of herself stretched out beneath the blonde. The pain in her heart was even worse than the pain in her breasts, and she gasped.
Above her, Babs gave a soft chuckle, and the pressure ceased abruptly. Unable to stop herself, Tiffany opened her eyes and stared up into the blonde’s triumphant face. Babs didn’t say anything – she didn’t need to. She wore the very same look she had had when she slid out of her robe before the fight, revealing her sculpted body to Tiffany. Her eyes spoke one word. “Mine” This time however, it was more than a boast. This time, it was true.
Babs rose slowly to her feet, leaving Tiffany sprawled on her back, her arms stretched above her head, held there by the invisible bonds of her utter exhaustion. She stared up at Babs through her tears as the victorious blonde stepped off her, circling her slowly, smiling down into her eyes.
“Guess the girls at Claw Club are gonna have to find a new name for you,” she taunted Tiffany. “Lucky sure doesn’t fit any longer, huh?” There were a few laughs from the audience. Tiffany blushed darker. They were laughing – laughing at her. She gathered the strength to roll onto her side, hiding her face in the floor, wishing it would open up and swallow her.
“Maybe they’ll call you ‘loser’ instead now,” Babs mocked her, “or maybe just ‘Babs’ bitch’ will do…what do you think?” There were more chuckles and Tiffany even heard a woman’s voice call out ‘bitch’ from somewhere in the room. She groaned in misery. “Yeah, I like that,” continued Babs, contining her circle. She stopped in front of Tiffany’s face. “And don’t hide from them like that, show everybody what it looks like to lose!” She shoved Tiffany harshly with her foot and Tiffany rolled onto her back, her arms akimbo.
Babs circled around her again, a lioness with her prey. She came to stand over Tiffany’s head, facing her feet. Tiffany stared up Babs’ legs, to her bare crotch, her labia dark and puffy below the narrow, neatly trimmed stripe of her pubic hair. Her flat belly gleamed with sweat, still blotched with the marks of Tiffany’s fingers, as did her proud, jutting breasts. It was her eyes that once again captured and held Tiffany’s gaze, however – the look of satisfaction, of success – of victory. She would have given anything to be standing there, with that look on her face, right now.
“What’s the expression?” asked Babs rhetorically. “The mighty, fallen. Dunno how mighty you really were, but you’re sure as hell fallen now…and you’re just about to fall a whole lot further, slut!” She dropped onto her knees astride Tiffany’s head, her hard shins slamming into Tiffany’s upper arms and pinning her in place on the floor.
Tiffany groaned at the pain, staring up into the blonde’s crotch, glistening with her sweat. She shook her head in horror, moaning softly, “No!!!” This couldn’t happen – mustn’t happen. She had heard Babs’ taunts, before and during the fight, but had dismissed them as idle threats, never thinking, never dreaming that she would be brought to this, humbled this way – forced to serve like this in front of the entire Society, humiliated before the best catfighters in the country. A tiny voice in the back of her mind told her that she had done this to others before, that the Society had seen such things a hundred times, and it was nothing personal. She didn’t give a damn – this time it was HER, and it cut her like a knife.
“Shut your sniveling and lick me, slut!” ordered Babs, and lowered her loins onto Tiffany’s face. Tiffany barely had time to draw a deep breath before the blonde’s pussy sank onto her mouth and nose, barely allowing her to breathe. Dimly, she heard Babs’ taunting exclamation, “Damn! That nose is hitting the spot!” and the answering laughs from the onlookers.
She hated this, hated the bitch for beating her, hated herself for allowing it to happen, hated the Society for laughing as she was forced to degrade herself like this. Part of her wanted to run, to hide, to save herself this humiliation, but deep down she knew that she had no choice. This was the big time. The spoils of victory were enormous – but so was the price of defeat. Dutifully, obediently, she extended her tongue and began to lap at her enemy’s pussy. The aroma of the blonde’s sweat and lust filled her nostrils, and she knew that it was a scent she would forever associate with defeat and shame.
Babs began to rock and grind on her face, hurting her nose, crushing her lips against her teeth but still she lapped, faster, harder as Babs’ clit grew larger and harder against her tongue. The blonde began to make little pleasure sounds, which gradually grew louder, then louder still. Tiffany licked harder, wishing nothing more than for it to be over, for the humiliation to end.
“Oh…mmm….good…slut…good…slut…” chanted Babs in time with the rocking motion of her hips. “Good slut…good slut…good bitch…good bitch…my bitch…MY BITCH…” Her legs clamped tighter around Tiffany’s head. “…MY BITCH…MYBITCHMYBITCHMYBITCHNNNYYYAAAGGGHHHHHH!!!” The pressure of her thighs made Tiffany scream in pain as she shuddered and writhed on Tiffany’s face in the grip of her cataclysmic climax. On and on she bucked and shrieked in fulfillment, while Tiffany moaned as her head and neck were jerked roughly about.
At last the violent motions of the blonde’s hips slowed to a halt and she knelt panting atop Tiffany. With an effort, she rose up on her knees and stared down into Tiffany’s face. “Well, I guess we know what you’re good at, huh slut?” Tiffany felt her face grow hot as she gasped for air.
Babs rose slowly off her, clambering to her feet, breathing heavily in the aftermath of her orgasm. She reached down and thrust a hand into Tiffany’ hair, soaking with more than sweat now. “Get up on your knees, bitch, so they can all see you.”
She hauled Tiffany upward and the brunette moaned at the sudden drag on her scalp. Her face burned from the friction of the blonde’s crotch on her skin, and from the shame as she realized what she must look like. That realization was confirmed a moment later as she caught sight of herself in the mirrored wall, through a gap in the crowd. Her shoulders slumped from exhaustion as she knelt there with Babs’ hand in her hair. Her skin glistened with sweat, her hair drenched in it, hanging limply on her shoulders and chest. Her makeup was smudged across her face, stained with tears and smeared with the juices of Babs’ lust.
As before with Babs, it was her eyes that shocked her. She wanted to look away but she could not. She had seen that look before on others, on the faces of her defeated opponents, but she had never thought she would see it in her own eyes – despair, exhaustion, utter desolation, all blended together. That look spoke to her in a way that words never could. She had fought with everything she had, every ounce of strength, skill and determination she possessed – but in this place, at this time, against this opponent, it had not been enough. New tears streamed down her flushed cheeks.
“Look and weep!” sneered Babs. Tiffany glanced up in the mirror to regard the blonde, standing behind her at her shoulder, holding her captive by the hair. She too was covered in sweat and her body bore the marks of their fierce battle, but she stood proudly, wearing those marks as badges of honor. She had put everything on the line, and prevailed. The look on her face was one of fierce, cruel triumph. She was a warrior, victorious.
“Well, I guess we’re done with you!” Babs pointed toward the corner. “So get out of my sight! Crawl, bitch!” With a dismissive snort, she threw Tiffany forward onto all fours.
Tiffany gathered what little energy she had left, and began her slow, shameful exit from the room, across the arena to the edge of the crowd. She was not even sure she would make it, she was so completely drained, physically and emotionally. The audience made as opening for her and she crawled painfully past the cluster of bodies, keeping her eyes on the carpet in front of her. She was glad of the damp, tangled mass of her hair that shrouded her face and hid her tears.
Someone in the crowd started a slow handclap, the Society’s traditional accompaniment to a loser’s exodus. Tiffany moaned in misery. Every fibre of her being screamed at her to leap to her feet and run from the room, but she resisted. Even if she had the strength, she could not run. If there was any tiny hope of salvaging some shred of dignity from this debacle, that would extinguish it. She crawled, in time with the clapping, until it mercifully faded as she disappeared into the hallway.
Still she did not dare to rise, afraid she might collapse completely. She remained on her knees, all the way to the bedroom where she had changed. Only when the door clicked shut behind her, did she crumple onto her side, curling into a ball, letting the tears flow freely.
The End