Girlfriend vs. Sister: Barbara vs. Marcy--Fight to the Finish
By: Supporturgoddess
It happened over the holidays. I expected to spend the day alone. I have a younger sister, a fiery redhead named Marcy, but we aren’t particularly close. This year my sister, who recently divorced and is perpetually in need of a loan, decided to strengthen our family bonds…if for no other reason than to make sure she could keep hitting me up for money. I’m hardly rich, but my financial situation has been improving.
As it happened, my sister wasn’t the only one who had noticed my improving finances. A girl I dated in high school and early in college, a pale-skinned, blue-eyed brunette named Barbara, heard of my recent windfall. The thrice-divorced beauty decided it was time for her to hook up with her old flame.
My sister, Marcy, and my ex-girlfriend, Barbara, are both extremely strong-willed, bossy women who like to be in charge. Each is completely determined to absolutely dominate anyone they have any kind of relationship with.
Each girl invited herself over to my place. Each had the exact same plan, to get on my good side by cooking me an elaborate holiday meal. Each had a very clear idea of how the day should go. I think you can guess what happened.
The women arrived almost simultaneously. Each was equally surprised--and annoyed--by the other’s presence.
Barbara and Marcy never liked each other. Back in high school, they were highly competitive. My sister got better grades, but my Ex was more popular. I was friends with Barbara years before we dated, when she was a pretty but skinny kid. That’s the image my sister likes to keep of Barbara. She thinks of Barbara as a ‘bean pole’ or ‘scarecrow’, despite the fact Barbara grew into an attractive woman with a fabulous body. Marcy also has a fixation on Barbara’s feet, which are, admittedly, quite big for such a short girl. By contrast, though never really fat, Marcy struggled with her weight in those days. Despite the fact Marcy lost all her excess weight years ago, Barbara has always thought of Marcy as a ‘fat cow’.
The friction began from the moment they arrived at my door. Barbara wanted to curl up with me on the couch and watch an old Christmas special. Marcy wanted to play a board game she had brought along.
“You can play your stupid game any day,” Barbara argued. “These specials are only on once a year.”
Marcy countered. “Aren’t you a little OLD for those shows?”
The tension rose rapidly. I tried to get them into neutral corners, by electing a third choice. I decided to watch a ball game. Marcy was okay with it, but Barbara, the baby of her family and used to having her way, sulked. She knew she would have gotten her way, if Marcy hadn’t been there. She stared at Marcy, eyes narrow.
The peace lasted only as long as the respite two fighters might take between rounds. Soon they were out of their corners and exchanging wicked jabs and body blows.
As we watched the game, Barbara spoke up in a very affected, sweet tone. “I wonder if I’ll see a blimp.” She glanced at Marcy. “Oh, yeah, I do.”
Barbara’s wicked uppercut put Marcy back on her heels. Seeing her enemy reeling from her first blow, Barbara fired another.
“If I had known you would be here, I would have brought a present for you, too. I have an old workout video at home. I can see you could really use it!”
Barbara’s combo left Marcy on her knees. She remained silent for a few moments, taking a count and trying to clear the cobwebs.
When she rejoined the fight, she was ready.
Marcy told me, “I know you’re interested in supernatural shows. I heard there’s going to be a show on about the search for Bigfoot.” She turned to Barbara with a wicked grin. “Oh, not you, the other one.”
Barbara’s face turned red. Marcy had her doubled over.
Marcy added, “That WAS what everyone called you back in high school, wasn’t it?”
Marcy’s wild haymaker landed flat on Barbara’s mouth, leaving her flat on her back, staring up as a count began. Barbara, however, was not the kind of girl who stays down.
Barbara gave Marcy a vicious, insincere smile that seemed to say, ‘If your brother wasn’t here, I’d scratch your eyes out for that!’
Instead, Barbara turned to me. “Did you see the Thanksgiving Day parades? I just caught a moment or two. They had a huge Kermit the Frog balloon. I wonder if they had a Miss Piggy Balloon.”
Barbara sneered at Marcy. “Oh, I’m sorry, Marcy. I know everyone used to call YOU Miss Piggy back in high school.” Barbara winked at me and whispered loud enough for my sister to hear, “They still do.”
That blow was enough to send Marcy flying right out of the ring through the ropes! Marcy wouldn’t take anymore. She started to rise from the couch. Barbara slowly rose to face her.
I quickly stepped in. “Uh--isn’t it about time to start cooking something?”
I should have realized that would only lead to more trouble. There were two meals, each requiring long cooking times, but only one oven to cook in. After some squabbling, Barbara and Marcy came to me, demanding I choose. Marcy was a better cook and I preferred the meal she had brought, but of course my ex-girlfriend could ‘cook’ in ways Marcy couldn’t. I wasn’t about to choose one over the other. I told them to work it out. They began to argue. Their words grew rapidly from hostile to down right nasty.
I threw up my hands. “Of for the love of….Why don’t you two just arm wrestle to decide who gets the oven?”
Neither would back down. They insisted I start them, and referee, calling the victor. They sat on the floor on either side of a low coffee table, and slowly pressed hands together, palm on palm. I put my hands around theirs. I then counted, “One! Two! Three!” I pulled my hands off. The contest began. Marcy’s soft, brown eyes stared into Barbara’s cool blue ones. Each woman strained with all her might. Barbara’s hand was bigger, but Marcy was the bigger girl overall, so it seemed an even match. They shook and their faces turned red. Face-to-face, neither girl could bear the thought of losing to the other! Little by little, Barbara’s pale hand forced Marcy’s to tilt over. After about two minutes, Barbara slammed Marcy’s hand down, hard. It was over.
Barbara gloated in my sister’s face, almost making her boil over. Marcy couldn’t believe a ‘skinny bean pole’ had beaten her.
“Fine!” Marcy hissed. “I’ll go out to the car and bring in my side dishes. I’ll need to let them simmer on the stove before--”
“Oh, no!” Barbara said. “I have my own side dishes. I won! I beat you! The stove belongs to me, too!”
“There’re four burners on the stove,” I argued. “You can each use two!”
They grudgingly agreed.
Once the meals were cooking, there was nothing to do but wait. Knowing my sister’s pride was hurting from her defeat, I suggested we play the board game she had brought until the meal was ready. It turned out to be one of those trivia games. Marcy is a little smarter than me, giving her an advantage. Poor Barbara was outmatched. She barely managed to answer a couple of questions correctly. It took Marcy less then twenty minutes to win the game. I was a close second. Barbara had barely moved her piece a few spaces from the start. With each wrong answer, Barbara seemed to grow smaller and more vulnerable, while Marcy grew stronger and more aggressive. My sister had boxed my girlfriend into a corner, and spent the next fifteen minutes working Barbara over on the ropes. Made to look stupid, Barbara took quite a beating. She was saved by the bell. The meals were almost ready.
Now they argued over who would set the table.
Trying to fight out of her corner, Barbara shot in, “Why don’t we arm wrestle over it?”
I knew Barbara saw hesitation in Marcy’s eyes.
Barbara added, “Aw, I’ll even use my weak arm, so you’ll have a chance against me.”
Pow! A direct hit!
My sister surprised me, returning fire. “We’ve already used our arms. How are your scrawny legs, bean pole?”
Barbara sneered. “They’re better than yours!”
Marcy smiled, wickedly. “Good! We’ll leg wrestle over it!”
They kicked off their shoes and pulled off their socks, then lay down side-by-side, with their heads on opposite ends. At the count of three they kicked their legs straight up, wrapping them together under their knees. Leg curled around leg. The battle was on! Egotistical, proud Barbara was in shock, as Marcy’s leg easily overpowered her own. In less than half a minute, my sister rolled my ex-girlfriend onto her shoulders for a three count.
Barbara was seething! When victorious Marcy went to set the table, Barbara pouted, making countless excuses for why she had lost.
Both women went to the kitchen to bring in their dishes, bumping each others’ shoulders back each time they passed. Suffering from a wounded pride, Barbara wasn’t pulling her punches. She went for a cheap shot. She brushed passed my sister’s side dishes, using her elbow to knock an entire container full of salt into the dishes, ruining them. She folded her arms over her chest, staring at my squawking sister, making no real attempt to feign innocence.
Barbara looked at me and, in her sexiest, most devilish voice, cooed “Oops.”
Marcy yelled. “You did that on purpose, Bitch!”
Barbara shouted, “Watch your mouth, or I’ll slap it off!” She looked at me. “Hey, accidents happen. I’m sure her cooking wasn’t very good, anyway. At least now you’ll get to taste some REAL cooking!”
Barbara went into the kitchen, placed her dishes on a tray, and returned with the meal she had painstakingly prepared.
Just as Barbara stepped out of the kitchen, Marcy shot her foot out in front of Barbara’s foot, tripping her. As if in slow motion, both Barbara and the meal she had worked so hard on flew through the air and then came crashing down on the floor!
Marcy stood over Barbara, arms folded over her chest. She said, “Oops. You’re right. Accidents happen.”
Barbara’s temper boiled over. She leapt up and shoved Marcy against the wall. Marcy shoved back, hard.
Barbara shouted, “You’d better tell your fat-ass sister to get out of here, before I really hurt her! I mean it!”
Marcy yelled, “Oh, like I’m afraid of her? Tell her to leave!”
I said, “I’m not telling either of you to leave! Why can’t you--”
“Fine!” Barbara hissed. “We’ll just settle this ourselves! You’re going down, fat ass!”
“I’m not afraid of you!” Fists clenched, my sister moved forward.
Barbara threw the palm of her hand up in Marcy’s face, saying, “I’m not getting my clothes all torn. Let’s strip down to bras and panties before we wrestle!”
Marcy’s jaw dropped, as Barbara began removing her clothes. Marcy gasped. “Slut! You just want to show off your body to my brother! I’m not--”
Barbara cooed, “Jealous? Are you afraid you’ll pale by comparison next to me?”
Marcy didn’t say a word. Both women stripped down to their bras and panties.
The fight was on! They circled. My heart pounded, but this was what they both wanted, so I wasn’t about to stop them!
Marcy growled. “How do we decide it?”
Barbara hissed. “We’ll let your brother referee.”
“No way!” Marcy shouted. “He’d be on your side!”
A hint of a smile appeared on Barbara’s lips. “Well then, I guess I’ve already won, haven’t I?”
Marcy glared at her enemy. “We’ll wrestle until one of us can’t take any more. When I make you cry uncle and admit I’m the better woman in front of my brother, he’ll know you’re not half the woman he thinks you are!”
Barbara shot back. “When I have you groveling down at my feet and begging for my mercy, he’ll know I’m 10X the woman you could ever be!”
They circled.
Marcy shrugged. “Should we have him ring a bell, or--”
Without warning, Barbara let loose a huge haymaker swing, slamming her big fist squarely against Marcy’s jaw! My sister was down at my girlfriend’s feet within the first seconds of the fight!
Barbara winked at me. “I guess I rang HER bell, didn’t I, tee-hee.”
It was a little dirty, but Barbara was a dirty fighter. A bit spoiled, Barbara was used to getting whatever she wanted, and the beautiful little brunette was ready to do whatever it took to get it!
Before my sister could recover, Barbara stomped her in her belly, twice. Barbara was on her way down with a third, when Marcy kicked up, sending Barbara crashing down backward. Barbara hit her head on the way down.
The girls rose, each a little wary of the other. They faced off in the middle of my living room floor. On one side stood my red-haired sister Marcy, wearing white, standing 5’3”and weighing about 135 lbs. Across from her stood my pale, blue eyed, brown-haired ex-girlfriend, standing about 5’1” and weighing maybe 120 to 125 lbs.
They charged, pushing hard. They clasped hands. A struggle began. They grunted and gasped, straining muscle-against-muscle, fighting with all their strength. Step-by-step, Barbara forced Marcy back…back…until she slammed Marcy down backward onto the couch. Barbara sat on my struggling sister and pinned her down, Barbara’s big feet dangling over the edge of the cushion.
Barbara looked down into Marcy’s face and boasted, “I can keep you pinned here all day!”
The boast proved an empty one. Bucking madly, Marcy was almost knocking Barbara off. Barbara reached for a cushion, maybe to use it to smother my sister. That change of position and leverage was all Marcy needed to snake her arms around Barbara and between her legs. She lifted my shrieking ex-girlfriend up and dropped her to the floor. Marcy kicked Barbara’s stomach. Barbara let out a loud “Whoof! “ and quickly rolled away, retreating to the far end of the room.
Barbara rose. She lifted her hand high, challenging my sister. “Let’s find out who’s REALLY stronger!”
Marcy couldn’t back down. They pressed their palms together high over their heads, worked their fingers together, and began a schoolgirl-style test of strength, a good old-fashioned mercy match! Standing nose-to-nose, they stared into each other’s eyes with pride on the line, pitting every ounce of strength against each other in a direct, body-vs.-body contest. Marcy cried out as Barbara played dirty again, trying to gain a quick advantage by digging her fingernails into my sister’s hands. Barbara shrieked a moment later, as Marcy returned the favor. They strained for more than a minute. Again Barbara played a little dirty, stomping my sister’s toes under her heel. Marcy yelped. She tried to stomp Barbara’s foot, but missed. In retaliation, Barbara scratched her toenails across the top of Marcy’s foot. She winced, but losing the footsie battle, decided not to even try to retaliate. The muscles in Barbara’s thin, pale arms flexed. Marcy’s thighs shook violently. Barbara’s lips curled up into a slight but vicious smile, as her larger hands slowly forced Marcy’s smaller ones back over her wrists. Marcy’s knees folded. Staring into my humbled sister’s eyes, Barbara forced Marcy down.
Barbara gloated, “On your knees before me, Marcy, where you belong!”
Barbara looked back over her shoulder at me and teased, “At least now you know your sister’s place!”
Humiliated, Marcy lunged, trying to rise, but Barbara slammed her back to her knees! I was surprised to see my girlfriend so dominant over my sister! Barbara kept demanding my sister beg her for mercy. Clutching her last ounce of pride, Marcy refused. Barbara forced Marcy all the way down on her back, then lie body-on-body on top her, pinning her! There was my ex-girlfriend, pinning my sister in the middle of my living room carpet!
Barbara looked back at me. “Count her out!”
1, 2...No! 1...2...No! Marcia kicked wildly to avoid being pinned. Barbara then lie down breasts covering breasts, belly on belly, thighs on thighs, Barbara’s big feet pinning Marcy’s under them.
“I’ve got her,” Barbara cooed. “Count her out!”
I called out, “1...2...3!”
Barbara cooed. “Do it again!”
1...2...3!”
Barbara laughed, “Again!”
1...2...3!”
Barbara was wiping the floor with my sister, and Marcy knew it! Marcy bucked and bolted madly, but Barbara was too strong. Barbara was not only stronger, but she also had all the leverage going her way. Barbara laughed in Marcy’s face!
Frustrated beyond belief, Marcy finally played dirty. She tossed her head up and bit Barbara’s nose! Barbara loved to use dirty tactics, but she never expected to have them used on her. Caught totally by surprise, Barbara wailed in anguish and rolled away, letting Marcy escape. Furious, Marcy leapt on Barbara’s back, yanking out hair and hitting her with everything she could land. Barbara tried to crawl away on her hands and knees, but Marcy chased her down and dragged her back by her ankles. They wrestled furiously, rolling over and over again on the carpet. Marcy won. She sat on Barbara’s back, grinding Barbara’s nose in the carpet! Barbara sat up, but Marcy sat behind her, pulling Barbara’s arms back and putting her into a full nelson. Barbara strained with all her strength, but Marcy was stronger. Marcy had Barbara totally dominated and under control, but the move niether allowed for neither a pin nor a submission. Marcy needed more.
Marcy sat up directly behind Barbara, pulling Barbara to a sitting position too. Marcy pulled back Barbara’s wrists, while digging her heel in the smaller brunette’s back! Barbara let out a long, high-pitched cry of pain! Marcy had her! Barbara looked at me in shock and fear, legs wide apart, feet straight up and down, as Marcy worked her over. Barbara’s face turned bright red. She let out another high-pitched scream. Tears welled in her blue eyes.
Marcy sneered. “Now, BEG for my mercy, bitch!”
Barbara looked into my eyes and shouted, “N-o-o-o-o-o!”
Marcy continued to torture my girlfriend, pulling Barbara’s arms back while digging her heel in between Barbara’s shounderblades.
Barbara let a tear fall. She breathed hard.
Marcy looked up at me, saying, “I own her!”
Barbara had other ideas. She planted her big, white feet firmly on the carpet and pushed off. As her legs straightened out, she forced her body back up and over my sister! Marcy never stopped, still pulling Barbara’s arms straight back, her foot digging deep into Barbara’s upper back. It became a test of wills…and bodies. Marcy strained to keep control, but Barbara’s body won out. She pushed back until she stood over Marcy, Barbara bent over backward, looking up at the ceiling. When Barbara forced herself directly over Marcy, she started stomping all over Marcy’s body, trampling her into the carpet! A pink heel right into Marcy’s mouth ended Marcy’s hold. Marcy’s arms fell. Barbara turned, grinding her foot over Marcy’s entire face! Marcy went almost limp.
Barbara laughed! “See? I have your sister groveling at my feet! Now, Marcy, BEG me for MY mercy! Beg me, or else!”
Barbara smashed her foot in, taunting, “How does that taste, Marcy? I said BEG!“
Barbara knew Marcy hated her big feet. She was deliberately finishing my sister off in the most humiliating way possible!
Suddenly Barbara cried out, as Marcy twisted Barbara’s ankle violently. Barbara tried to turn back, but Marcy wrenched her ankle all the way in the other direction. Barbara screamed, spinning around, losing balance and crashing down. Her chin bounced off the floor! As Barbara slowly reached for her rattled teeth, Marcy sat up behind her. The tears in her eyes were as much from shame as pain, but her sneer showed she was raging mad! She grabbed the closest target, Barbara’s foot, and perhaps out for revenge, and bit it with all she had left! Barbara flailed madly, screaming and pounding her fists to the carpet. After a minute or so, she burst into tears. Unlike my proud sister who Barabara had to drag a few tears from, drama queen Barbara was very vocal, crying like a baby. Marcy twisted toes and bit Barbara’s foot, making her regret her attempt to embarrass her. There was no chance of Marcy forcing Barbara to surrender from a mere toe hold, but quick to feel sorry for her, Barbara’s wailing was taking the wind from her lungs. That let Marcy work her way up until she sat on Barbara, hips on hips. Marcy began yanking out Barbara’s hair and using it to slam Barbara’s face to the floor, over and over again. I had thought Barbara wailed during the foot bite, but when the hair pulling began, Barbara became hysterical!
I admit, what happened next impressed me. Refusing to lose, Barbara slowly got her feet under her and then kicked up, leaping back against the wall, using her body to drive Marcy into the wall behind her so hard they cracked the plaster!
Marcy was hurt, and Barbara wasn’t through! She spun and viciously clawed her fingers in my sister’s eyes and down her face. I told you my sister is proud and not very vocal, but this time Barbara ripped a harsh scream from Marcy’s lungs! Before I could move in, Barbara flipped Marcy completely off her feet, ripping out red hair. Marcy crashed down in the middle of the room.
Barbara sat on Marcy’s chest, using her knees to pin Marcy’s shoulders in a schoolgirl pin. Barbara was savage, again scratching Marcy’s face. Then Barbara locked on a brutal choke. Marcy gagged and coughed, her feet kicking wildly, desperately. Barbara has always had a massive ego. She wanted to make Marcy pay, and was prepared to do absolutely anything to win!
I moved to stop it, but Marcy couldn’t last that long. The former high school gymnast kicked her legs up, wrapping her feet around Barbara’s face and dragging her over backward, slamming Barbara’s head to the floor with all her strength!
Barbara moaned loudly, wrapping her arms over her head, rocking back and forth. Marcy coughed, gasping for air. Both women were spent, exhausted, but their pride forced them to stand and finish their fight. They leapt together in a fight to the finish. Barbara fought like a wildcat, but Marcy held her own. They rolled around the room, Barbara on top then Marcy and then Barbara again, wildly at first, then slower. I saw their entangled arms and legs shaking violently, straining against each other, taking every last drop of strength out of each other. Eye-to-eye, each was determined to prove herself the better woman. Thighs slapped together, bellies and breasts rubbed and grinded, until one girl’s body came up empty, simply unable to take any more. Little by little, Barbara’s delicious body gave in. She just didn’t have enough in her, head to toe. Marcy stayed on top more and more, until she finally had Barbara completely dominated, helpless. Marcy slammed her fist deep into Barbara’s belly, four times. Barbara let out a long, high-pitched whine, followed by deep, gasping sobs.
Marcy looked down at the beaten brunette under her. She reached down and briefly raked her fingers in Barbara’s eyes, to get revenge. Barbara howled, her big feet kicking madly at empty air. She then sat Barbara up, and again sat directly behind her. Again Marcy pinned Barbara’s smooth, pale arms back in a full nelson. Barbara was absolutely under Marcy’s control. Sitting up with her legs wide open, Barbara looked up at me, totally humiliated, tears streaming. Marcy then wrapped her legs around Barbara’s midsection and squeezed her from behind. Pain instantly shot through Barbara’s bulging eyes. Her face turned red and twisted with pain. Marcy’s thighs crushed Barbara’s trim waist, forcing a scream from Barbara’s mouth.
Marcy looked to me. “I guess I proved that I’m a better woman than she could ever be!”
Barbara didn’t say a word to argue…but she still refused to surrender.
Marcy kept squeezing harder and harder, pumping, turning up the pressure more, and more, and more…. The look of anguish, sheer agony on Barbara’s face was indescribable. After about a minute, Barbara’s feet began pounding the carpet as hard as they could. This went on for a while, then slowed and stopped. Barbara collapsed to her side. Something deep inside Barbara couldn’t admit she had been soundly defeated by my sister, but beaten she was.
Marcy wasn’t about to let Barbara get off easy. She demanded, “Now, Barbara, beg for MY mercy! Beg!”
Barbara’s beaten body squirmed pitifully. She shook her head ‘No!’ in tears.
“Beg me!” Marcy shouted. “Beg!”
Marcy started a brutal series of squeezes. Minutes of agony passed.
Barbara finally let out a scream, followed by, “You win! I--I can’t sta-a-a-a-nd it! I can’t take anymo-o-o-o-o-re! I give u-u-u-u-u-u-p! Oh please, sto-o-o-p !”
Marcy refused. “Beg, Barbara! Beg me like the loser you are!”
Marcy went wild, as if she wanted to squeeze Barbara in half! Barbara sreamed “Mercie-e-e-e-e! I--I’m begging y-o-o-o-ou! I’m begging you for merci-e-e-e-e-!”
Marcy smiled, satisfied. “Now look up at my brother and tell him who the better woman is.”
Massive ego shattered, Barbara looked up at me in tears and cried, “M-Marcy is a better woman than m-e-e-e! Oh please, make her stop! Make her s-t-o-o-o-o-p!”
Marcy wanted a little more, but Barbara had had enough. I moved in. Marcy slid her legs off Barbara’s humbled body. Marcy rolled Barbara over onto her back and stood over her, planting her foot on Barbara’s heaving breasts. Marcy made me take a picture of her posing over my completely defeated ex-girlfriend. I can’t deny that in that position, spread eagle and helpless under my posing sister, Barbara was left looking absolutely pitiful. I wouldn’t have believed it!
Marcy rubbed her red, scratched eyes. Remembering the agony she had felt with Barbara’s fingers in her eyes, Marcy took one of the dishes Barbara had dropped and scooped up some of the mess on the floor into the dish. She seized Barbara’s hair, pulled her to her knees, and then shoved the muck into Barbara’s face, grinding it in. Barbara just stayed down, hands behind her back. Too weak and too scared to deny Marcy anything, Barbara had to take the humiliation. Marcy finally dumped the dish and what was left in it over Barbara’s head. Marcy dragged my humiliated ex-girlfriend to the door and threw it open.
“You were only after my brother’s money, Bitch! Well, you’re not part of this family. You never will be! Now, get out and stay out!”
Marcy gave Barbara’s pale hips one hell of a kick, sending her flying out face down into the mud outside. Marcy slammed the door behind her.
After a couple of minutes we heard Barbara’s car start and drive away.
Other than a few minor scratches and bruises, my sister came through the battle pretty well. I knew Barbara was probably in even better shape. She would be fine. My sister stayed for a while, revelling in recounting her victory, which grew more impressive with each retelling. By the time she left, you’d have thought she had mopped the floor with Barbara, instead of squeaking out a victory. After I gave her a sizeable check to help her through the holidays, she left.
I was left without a hot girlfriend to spend the rest of the night with. I guess some might see me as a loser, but…after the fight I had witnessed, I felt like a winner! It was the most memorable holiday of my life! Besides, I knew Marcy would have to boast while she could. She wouldn’t have long to revel in her victory. Battling Barbara would be back, determined to hand Marcy a defeat ten times worse than her own!
