FreeCatFights
General Category => Catfight , Boxing & Wrestling Stories => Catfighting => Topic started by: FyreCracka on November 29, 2021, 07:19:30 AM
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The Catpin Chronicles
Various accounts of the battles between the women who wear 'Catpins'.
This goal of this series is to provide a different perspective on the fights that have taken place in the 'Catpin' Universe of Fyre's and Kiva's Fight Journals. I mean this quite literally as many of the chapters here will be from the perspectives of other characters found in our stories.
My hope is that this series will provide some more depth for some of your favorite characters not named Kiva or Kelli. You may even see some new fights that don't have either of us in them!
Finally, I'd also like to use this series to give some of the readers who would also like to try their hand at writing. That's right, say one of you just happened to be at Billy's the night I fought Jolene and wanted to give us all a recounting of what you saw. The only ask I have is that you let us know beforehand (and if you want to ask any questions to fill in any gaps, we will probably be more than happy to help out).
You can also feel free to suggest stories from certain characters that you'd like to know more about. These stories won't be any particular order or anything as this is more of a supplement than anything else- purely a collection of catfights. Hopefully y'all will like seeing some familiar things through different sets of eyes. Enjoy!
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Catpin Chronicles, Chapter 1: Matriarchal Mayhem
As told by Damini Doshi
"Fuck!... it's so fucking hot in this damn state..." I grumble out loud as finish setting up a "For Sale" sign at this large lake house. At least, mother and my older sister, Uma were right about the housing market .... it's just as hot as this August weather. This property should fetch us another nice profit. These dumb Texans won't know what hit them when the Doshi's take over this whole area.
"What the fu-" I blurt out as a damn blonde in a jeep goes barreling by my, sending a cloud of dust all over my pink blouse and black skirt as she drive towards the house. This bitch has no idea who she's fucking with. This heat already has me pissed off and it's not like any of us are known for our patience or tolerance.
I stomp towards, screaming all manner of obscenities at the woman in the jeep, who has parked in front of our latest project and is now leaning against her vehicle casually, her flip flop dangling off of her inbred big toe. She looks like the typical loser moms around here, wearing a pair of cutoffs with her stupid flip flops and a green tank top with a black sports bra underneath. Her dumb blonde hair tied in a ponytail sticking out the back of a ballcap with the high school's mascot on it. What the fuck is this bitch thinking?
I get within twenty yards or so and I'm sure she can hear me so I really let her have it. "You... dumb... fucking... blonde... idiot-" I pause my rant when I see the sun glinting off of the catpin affixed to her tank top. "Oh... I see now. If this is what this is about, you are dumber than I though." I snap at this moronic cxnt. I'm going to give her the ass beating she so richly deserves.
The blonde saunters up to me with a stereotypical Texas bravado. "Maybe I am... but what are you gonna do about it?" The woman drawls on with her annoying accent. She stops mere inches from me. This bitch is just begging for it.
If this bimbo thinks she can intimidate me, she's out of her fucking mind. "Follow me inside and I'll show you, slut!" I snap back, turning towards the big metal double front door. I can feel my excitement building as I size up this new victim. She's maybe half an inch taller and I'd estimate we weigh just about the same. Similar sized chest and probably five years older than my 34 years.
I hold the door as she walks into the home. For a moment we are chest to chest. Her brown eyes are staring, unblinkingly, into mine. "Last chance, Tex... leave now- or get your ass kicked." I growl.
The blonde presses her chest back into mine. She even grabs the door from my hand and slams it shut with a loud clang. "I'm sure you'll try, sweetie... but, I'm not goin' anywhere." The woman replies in her dumb accent. "What's your name anyway?... I'm Kelli Rose... we gotta make this official."
"My name's Damini... Damini Doshi... it was on the fucking sign next to my picture, you dumb hick." I snarl back as we start to log into the app.
"Hold up!" I hear a familiar voice yelling from the door to the backyard. I let out an frustrated sigh. The voice belongs to my older sister, Uma. She is dressed nearly identical to me with black skirt and red blouse as we were going to do some promotional pictures in this house.
"Damini, you know it's my turn!" She barks. My sister is three years older, two inches taller and five pounds heavier. She was always more athletic but I am meaner. While she has beaten me more than I have beaten her, the margin has tightened some in the last few years and I am not simply going to defer to her wishes this time.
"Uma... I saw her first- she nearly ran me over outside!" I argue. It may be her turn but I deserve to be the one to beat this bitch's ass.
"No, no little sister, it's MY turn." I hate when she uses the big sister angle. "Plus... you know how I love... to ... beat... the fuck ... out of blondes." Uma says as she struts around Kelli and I confidently.
"C'mon... she already fucking challenged ME!" I retort as we get in each other's space. We start jostling for position. Lightly pushing each other and grabbing one another's hair. I nearly want to fight her as much as I do the blonde. It's about time for me to take her spot. She's getting soft. I can take her.
Then the stupid blonde inserts herself. "As much as I'm enjoying you two relive your bratty childhood, I'd like to have a fight sometime this mornin'. Listen, I don't care which one of you I kick the hell out of, just pick one.... shit, give me enough time, I'll stomp a mud hole in both of your asses." This arrogant hick cxnt so needs her face rubbed in the dirt. She seriously can't think that she is on my level, can she?
"Mom! .... Aunt Damini!...." the young voice of my niece, Advika, echoes off of the walls as she marches in from the kitchen dressed in a black camisole and beige shorts. "You know that I only need ONE more fight to get my pin!"
I have to remember that Advika is no longer a child. She is 19 now. As tall as her mother, leaner and even more athletic. Since her father is a white man, she is considerably lighter than either her mother or I. She also inherited those blue eyes from him. I watched her first two fights and she is a gifted fighter even if her model like looks would suggest otherwise. Despite all of her potential, I have a feeling that this blonde would devour her in a fight though. She needs to leave this one to Uma or I.
"Advika! This doesn't concern you... except to watch and learn." Uma scolds her daughter before I can speak.
"Ya gotta be kiddin' me!" The blonde exclaims. "I should have packed a lunch...". She stands with her hands on her hips, tapping her flip flop clad foot on the marble floor.
"Girls... girls.... that'll be enough!" All four of our heads whip towards the top of the stairs. My mother, Ishita, stands there with a stern look for a moment before beginning to slink down the stairs like an alley cat, dressed in a black suit with a pink button down blouse.
Mother is still in fantastic shape, even at 55 years old. She slinks down the stairs confidently like a tigress dressed in a dark suit with a pink button down blouse, her catpin shining brightly. She is close to two inches shorter than the blonde but probably outweighs her by five pounds or so. I know she is strong, tough and more skilled than any of us from personal experience as I have never beaten her in any of our fights.
Great. Mother will understand that I should be the one that gets to destroy this blonde Texas slut. "But mommy!.... I saw her first!" I plead. Surely she will understand that I deserve this.
Uma quickly steps in front of me, "But it's my turn, mommy!" my older sister whines. While that may be true since my tussle with that Persian bitch was the last fight any of us had, but that was right after we moved here- and this bimbo nearly ran me over. I should have the first shot.
Next, Advika hops in front of all of us "I only need one more fight for my pin... and she's BLONDE!" Uma needs to get control of her oldest child. There are plenty of blondes around here for her to earn her catpin against... besides, it should be one closer to her own age.
"Silence, Uma... Quiet, Damini.... Hush Advika... I want this one...I just arrived a few days ago and haven't had a chance to crush one of you Texans." Mother says as she walks past us and struts her way directly in front of Kelli. "Don't mind my daughters and granddaughter.. they get excited when someone as brazenly stupid as you volunteers to be destroyed by a Doshi woman."
Mother eyes the Texan up and down, deftly evaluating her like a property she is about to bid on. "I am Ishita Doshi.... I'm the matriarch of this family and this company. You'll be fighting me.... though I'm sure any one of them would have you begging for mercy.... and I do find it tempting to consider watching Advika earn her pin against such a pretty... at least by the local standards... specimen."
This is too good. It's a rare treat to get to see mother annihilate another woman. Usually she is content to test one of us or any of our many cousins. In fact, it has been close to a year since we had the pleasure of watching her fight anyone outside the family. It was quite a battle but when it was over, she had the Latina owner of a chain of Mexican restaurants begging for mercy. We won that family battle two wins to one loss. Unfortunately, I was the one loss, but I still say that bitch got lucky.
I glance at Uma and Advika. All of us are even more excited to see mother claim this fight than any of us getting it. We all exchange smiles and nudges as we whisper about what mother will do to this dumb hick cxnt.
"Whatever... as long as I get to put a beatin' on one of ya... oh and I'm Kelli... Kelli Rose." The blonde rudely interrupts with her stupid drawl. I can't wait to watch mommy make this cowgirl cry.
"So... Mrs. Rose, how would you like for me to defeat you today?" Mother says calmly. She is the picture of quiet confidence. So poised and ready to show this twat what a Doshi woman can do.
The pretty blonde rubs her jaw for a moment before answering. "Seeing as the nature of your work requires you to be presentable, Mrs. Doshi. How about slaps only to the face, everything is legal below the neck? Loser admits her inferiority... and gives up her unmentionables... And since this is your place, I'll defer to you on where and attire."
"There's that proud Texas attitude I've heard so much about... I'm going to enjoy this, cowgirl..." That's it mommy. You tell this dirty skank. All of that arrogance is about to be crushed. I can't wait.
"Your terms are acceptable... we will battle in the backyard. Don't mind the mess, we are putting in a pool... almost a necessity with this cursed heat you people live with and the pit they have dug will be a fitting arena for us. " Mother puts her finger to her bottom lip, tapping it and looking over the soon to be disgraced blonde before continuing. "Topless... underwear only. No need to ruin this suit. Uma, Damini, get the cameras... Advika, find some towels, getting a little muddy will be a small price to pay to not destroy the lawn." Mother is so cool and calculating. Even thinking of our business at a time like this. She is definitely going to bring her 'A' game. Kelli Rose has no idea what she is in for.
We all scurry off, following mother's orders to the letter as her and the blonde make their way to the future site of the pool. Uma and I return with the cameras just as Kelli finishes tying her long blonde hair into a ponytail. She is decently built with an attractive body, a little leaner than my own. I hate to admit it but the baby blue cotton panty clad Texan looks like she could be tough. I watch her descend first into the 'pit'.
As mother walks towards the pit, I look down at the blonde in what is about to be today's arena. The thick, claylike mud isn't deep but it looks slick and treacherous. Hopefully that will negate any speed advantage that the younger woman may have. Mother is a nasty fighter when she gets on the ground. That, I can attest to. This is going to be great. She'll have the blonde covered with the slimy muck and trapped beneath her- where she belongs, in no time! The sooner the better, as the August sun in this cursed state is quite oppressive.
Mother stands at the edge of the pit, her arms out and head pointing towards the sky as Uma, Advika and I remove her clothes ritualistically, leaving her in only a frilly pair of pink panties that contrast sharply with her rich brown skin. She looks the part of a Queen about to dispatch an uppity servant as she climbs down into the pit and stands across from the blonde Texan.
Mother stands across from the rude, yellow haired idiot in the mud. I can see them both evaluating one another one last time before their battle commences. Obviously, I am doing the same, comparing them, seeing the advantages and disadvantages of each woman.
At 55, Mother is significantly older than the 39 year old mouthbreather. The blonde is close to 2 inches taller but mother has a good 10 pounds or so on the most likely weaker bitch. Her beautiful jet black hair with a single gray strip is tied in a tight braid while her opponent's golden hair swings back and forth with every movement while in a ponytail. She definitely looks more soft and feminine than the blonde- not to mention she has a bigger chest, too. And don't get me started about how much better looking her bronze skin is compared to this hick's nearly two tone farmer's tan.
Further accentuating Mother's higher status than this lowly piece of trash is their nails. My mother's are finely manicured pink weapons that are about to expertly extract screams from her opponent. While Kelli's are trimmed short like man's ... like she is some common field worker. Which is curious as she is easily pretty enough to attract a man capable of earning enough for her to not have to do such things.
Uma and I have our cameras rolling as the two women limber up. Mother is getting a feel for the muddy field when she looks at Kelli and gives the blonde one last chance to avoid humiliation at the hands of a clearly superior woman. "I feel I should offer you one last chance to save yourself some pain, cowgirl... kneel before me, surrender your undergarments and you may walk out of here with only a slightly bruised ego"
Mother's offer of mercy is predictably met with rudeness and disrespect as the blonde answers. "You're joking, right grandma-"
The idiot is cut off mid word as Mother's right hand spins the younger woman's head around with a hard slap.
"Insolent bitch!... time to teach you some... respect-" This time Kelli is the one delivering a slap to Mother's cheek, sending her staggering backwards a few steps.
"Now we're even..." the bitchy blonde snaps with a smirk before raising a hand to invite my mother to a test of strength. "Let's see what ya got, old woman!"
Mother is going to hurt this dumb cxnt. No one gets away with disrespecting her like that. There's no way this weak blonde will be stronger. Mother huffs before moving cautiously towards her opponent- I wouldn't trust the Texan either. The two women begin interlocking their fingers. As soon as both hands are locked the two women grunt and groan as the strain to prove who is stronger. They are stomping around the mud in a stalemate. I'm shocked that the blonde is able to compete. Mother is so strong.
I watch intently, waiting for my mother to start overpowering this local bitch, but to my shock, Mother's arms are the ones that begin to quiver and shake. Kelli begins to outmuscle Mother, bending the older woman's wrists backwards. I see Ishita dig her nails into the white woman's skin eliciting a quick curse of "Bitch!" before the younger woman continues to slowly push my mother towards the muddy ground.
Just before my mother's knee is forced to the earth, she snarls and twists her body causing both women to tumble into the slimy ooze. Their hands remain locked together as they begin to writhe and slither against one another in a muddy body to body catball. Their bodies become covered with the mud as they roll to and fro trying to pin the other woman. They release each other's hands and the fight is really on as they lock on to each other's hair. Their bodies slip and slide against one another's. I watch as Mother's bigger, heavier breasts press against the small chested blonde's. Such an inferior woman. It's just a matter of time before Mother overtakes her.
I hear both of the women beginning to let out groans and screams as I watch them get more desperate, digging their nails into any body part they can latch onto. Mauling each other's tits and bellies, scratching throats and asses. Both women trying to inflict as much pain as possible to the other. I've never seen anyone hurt mother like this piece of trailer trash. Surely the blonde will be the first to break.
The two women continue their savage and brutal battle for supremacy. Grappling and wrestling to gain control as they roll back and forth until their contrasting skin colors meld into the same light brown tone as the muck of the pit. I can feel the cursed Texas sun beating down on me as I watch this bitchy battle and I know it has to be worse for my older mother down in the pit. I can already see their frenetic pace beginning to slow. Mother needs to hurt this yokel and end this before the her age becomes a factor.
My stomach is tying itself in knots as I watch the blonde begin to overpower Mother. Ishita looks exhausted and in trouble as Kelli plants her on her back, firmly into the soft mud, laying in a full body pin atop my poor mother. This can't be.
"Well now, Mrs. Doshi, I feel I should offer you the chance to submit now and save yourself further embarrassment." The vile white whore snarls mockingly from her top position.
"Fuck... you.... blonde.... cxnt!" Mother screams as she begins to struggle frantically. Her feet slipping and sliding as they fail to gain any traction and the blonde continues to keep her planted firmly on her back. Uma, Advika and I exchange worried looks as we continue to film the fight. We are all facing the fact that this trashy Texas bitch has the matriarch of our family in serious trouble.
"Not.... very polite of you... Maybe I should teach you a little about Texas manners." Kelli taunts as she slams Mother's hands down with a confident authority, reestablishing her pin. I can see my mother squirming angrily beneath the blonde but she is planted firmly in the muddy earth, unable to escape. Surely this isn't the end, my mother is better than this whore. She can't lose to her. Don't give up, mommy! I think to myself.
I knew it! Mother is so tough. She refuses to give up. She keeps fighting and is able to twist one hand free. Her perfectly manicured nails find the Texan's undersized breast causing her howls in pain as my mother sinks her claws deep into the Texas twat's tiny tit. Ishita follows up with a wild flurry of motion that dislodges Kelli from her mount and the two women tumble back into the muck, rolling around again.
As the two catball through the thick sludge, my mother seems to have found the blonde bitch's weakness, sinking her long manicured talons into her shoulders, arms, chest- anything she can. Kelli screams in pain as the roll around, she is trying to reciprocate but the low class woman's shorter nails aren't nearly as effective. It looks like Mother is beginning to mount a comeback. Using her claws to tear at the younger woman's skin like the skillful tigress that she is! I knew she would beat this country cxnt.
That's it mother! You're getting the better of her now! I think as I see my mother ripping Kelli and beginning to slowly take control as they sloppily splash in the slime. Then, the devious Texan takes a handful of the nasty tan ooze and screeches. "Eat... this... bitch!" as she shoves the slimy shit into Ishita's open, panting mouth.
Uma, Advika and I let out a mixture of gasps and curses as we see Mother coughing, sputtering and gagging as she tries to clear the filth out of her mouth. The blonde capitalizes on the dirty distraction, pouncing on Ishita and knocking her onto her back. Kelli's hands clamp down on mother's biceps, leaving her claws scratching harmlessly at the air. The bitch then starts moving into a mount but mother is able to trap one of her legs. She'll never give up!
In the ensuing struggle, the trailer park twat hits mother's crotch with her knee causing the older woman to gasp in pain. Next, that fucking blonde bitch sends another one to my mother's pussy. Ishita groans out loudly. I can tell she is in an immense amount of pain.
"What's the... matter granny... your old twat... not used to taking.... a good... pounding?" The vile cxnt hisses before sending knee after knee towards my mother's womanhood until she is lying listlessly in the mud. My jaw drops in horrified shock. This can't be! Mother is helpless now, she's not even trying to fight back. The younger woman looks the destroyed woman over smugly before she rises to her feet.
Mother lies writhing and moaning on her back in the mud as Kelli wipes the sludge from her body, flinging it to ground with a splat. Advika, Uma and I are yelling encouragement to mother, trying to will her to get back in the fight. The blonde glares up at us from the pit before shouting "Make sure... y'all get... a good shot ... of this!"
What a fucking disrespectful, arrogant bitch! Mother has made it back to her hands and knees by the time Kelli turns her attention back to her.
Mother is struggling just to stay on all fours. She is in pain and in trouble. I can do nothing as I see Kelli draw back and deliver a soccer kick to her already battered nether regions that lands with a sickening smack. Ishita collapses face first blubbering in the mud as she massages her aching private parts.
The blonde saunters arrogantly over to my mother, taking her time before straddling mother. She drops onto Ishita's lower back driving a pained gasp from the older woman's lips. Next, she grabs my mother's braid and pulls her face from the mud. "You ready ... to surrender now... Mrs. Doshi?" Kelli confidently growls, pulling the braid to add pressure to mother's neck.
Mother lets out a loud moan of pain. She plants her hands in the mud and pushes up to try to alleviate some of the pressure. Kelli keeps pulling in the modified camel clutch. Ishita is groaning as she continues to arch her back until her tits come out of the much with a loud sucking sound. "Go... to... hell... cxnt!" My mother grunts out defiantly through gritted teeth.
I'm a mix of emotions at hearing my mother continue to defy the Texan her victory. Proud of her grit but worried and not wanting to see the blonde hurt her even more.
Kelli seems incensed at my mother's refusal to submit. Her nostrils flare and her face contorts angrily before she hops to her feet. Her knuckles still clenched around my mother's braided hair. Violently she uses the older woman's hair to flip her onto her back. Then, menacingly drops onto her belly in a schoolgirl pin. The sadistic slut traps my mother's arms beneath her shins and her left hand clamps around the proud Indian woman's jaw. A feeling of dread washes over my entire body when I see her right hand reach back, her nails digging into my mother's already brutalized pussy. I doubt I'll ever hear anything as terrifying as the bloodcurdling scream that my mother let out when Kelli's claws extracted their revenge.
"Now... before I hurt you... more than any other woman.... ever has... I'm going to ask you... one ... more... time.... Do. You. Fucking. Give?" Kelli growls with a rage I've seldom seen from another woman. In this moment I know that I've just witnessed another woman conquer my mother.
Quietly and meekly I hear my mother softly moan "I give."
"That's not ... fucking good enough... bitch!" Kelli roars in response. The cruel cxnt digs her fingers into mother once more.
"I give!.... I give.... you win!" Ishita blurts out, completely at the mercy of the blonde. She exhales mightily as Kelli eases the pressure of the hold on her intimate bits.
"...and?" The torturous Texan continues. "Make sure... they... hear it!" She commands glancing up at us from the pit as we watch in a stunned, horrified silence.
"I surrender.... to Mrs. Rose.... she is the superior woman..." Mother says clearly and loudly. Her voice still sounding surprisingly poised even if there is a hint of a tremble in it. I want to look away from the scene but can't. I watch as mother's tears wash away some of the mud splattered on her face.
Kelli leans down and whispers something to mother. Mother, already regaining her composure, looks up at us and commands "Grand daughter... get the hose... and clean Mrs. Rose and I off..". Advika wastes no time, running and fetching a water hose. My niece proceeds to shower the two combatants with the cool, clean water.
I can see both of them are enjoying the refreshing break from the heat as the mud is rinsed from their bodies. The two warriors who were nearly indistinguishable with their bodies both covered in the same tan sludge begin to look like themselves again. I can't help but notice how Kelli's victory is further cemented now that I can see her paler skin shining in the sunlight as she looms above my darker skinned mother.
"That'll do, Advika.." Mother says telling my niece to cut the water. My heart sinks even before Kelli plants her still muddy foot on Ishita's freshly rinsed chest. Runny mud now trickles down my mother's body as it makes it way to the puddle that has formed around the defeated older woman.
The insufferable yellow haired twat breaks from posing over my conquered mother long enough to glare down and command ""Now... give me what you owe me...".
It kills me to watch my mother as she can't even look her conqueror in the eyes as she shimmies out of her panties and hands them to the blonde. Who now resumes her victory pose while holding the mud soaked trophy. I am numb as I dutifully keep recording the disgusting spectacle on my camera.
With the match completely over, Uma and I give each other a reaffirming nod. We can stop filming and see to our mother now. We both climb down into the pit to check on Mother. I feel the mud getting all over my expensive outfit but it is inconsequential. I have more in my closet at home. Now we have to console mother. Uma and I can't keep from crying as we watch our mother sitting, stripped naked and defeated in the mud, sobbing as she hangs her head in shame. I know she has lost fights before but none of us have ever witnessed it happen. She has always been so invincible.
Uma can't take anymore and turns to the topless blonde. "You'll pay for this.... you.... you... blonde bitch!" My sister screams at Kelli before turning back to our mother. "It will be alright, mommy... I'll hurt her. I promise."
I'm a mix of anger, fear and sadness. I can't stop sobbing uncontrollably. I wipe my tears, smearing my mascara in the process. I rise from comforting Mother and glare at Kelli Rose. I'm boiling over now, shaking with raw emotion. "I will fucking beat your fucking ass right fucking now, fucking cowgirl cxnt." I don't care about the fucking rules. I'm going to hurt this bitch. She has to pay for doing this to my mother. Even if it costs me my Catpin.
"Calm yourself, child.... you know the rules... let her go.... she... won." Mother says, putting her hand on my calf. It calms me. As much as I want to bury this whore in the mud out here, I know she is right and I wouldn't dare defy mother's command, anyway. Uma and I return to taking care of her. She is going to need us.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Kelli climb out of the pit. I can hear the despicable ditz bark at Advika to finish rinsing her off. I hear the water turn back on as she obeys. This bitch thinks she owns our entire family. It won't happen today, but I won't rest until that arrogant blonde is laying defeated beneath the sole of my foot.
About thirty seconds later I hear Advika bark "You like this.. bitch!?" What is going on up there?
Next, I hear Kelli's voice rising in anger. "You do not want to do this little girl!" That doesn't sound good. Uma and I look at each other. We have to see what is going on.
Before we can get up, I hear Advika's voice, shaking with fear, "I... I... know the rules... you old skank... you're lucky.... I'd ... I'd...". Oh no. I just watched that woman dominate the toughest woman I've ever known, she'll absolutely devour my niece.
"You'd what, little girl?" Kelli interrupts her mid sentence.
Uma and I barely make it to our feet before we hear Advika's voice, quivering with fear. "I'll ... I'll... fuck ... you.... u-u-up". Stupid girl. Just shut up. We will get even with her soon enough.
My sister and I begin to scramble up the side of the pit. I see the altercation just before the blonde answers. "You really don't want to take an ass whipping' that won't get you your pin... this is for your own good.." Kelli barks just before she uses one arm to shove my niece towards the pit.
Advika stumbles past my fingers and over my head as she falls into the muddy pit, landing on her belly with a loud smacking sound. She rolls onto her back whipping the mud from her face as she snarls. "Bitch... fucking ... bitch!... I'm going to-"
Ishita's commanding voice cracks through humid August air stopping Advika's rant. "You're going to let her leave, child... you all are." Uma and I stare at one another. The day's fighting is finished. All four of us stare up at the smirking Kelli Rose as she watches us wallowing around like pigs in the mud with a smug and satisfied look on her dumb face.
She continues to keep an eye on us as she finishes hosing the mud from her body. Mother keeps us all down in the steamy mud until we are sure she is gone. It's utterly humiliating. We owe that woman an ass kicking. It will happen. The only question is which of us will be the lucky woman that gets to do it.
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Excellent start. I always loved the alternate point of view story to make characters more 3-dimensional. I have a few completed stories: Cynthia vs. Deanna, and Kelli vs. Grace, told by Grace (FFJ, Ch 17, War On Water’s Edge) which I’ll post in the near future. I hope this thread will be largely reader driven with readers suggesting characters and stories, and even seeing this thread as an opportunity to write their own catpin universe story.
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I can't understand why the Doshis don't like you, Kelli – you've always seemed perfectly charming to me – but she doesn't mince her words, this Damini, does she? "typical loser mom", " dumb... fucking... blonde... idiot", "bimbo", "dumb hick", "blonde Texas slut", "dumb hick cxnt", … Quite a way with words she has! I particularly loved the "Texas twat's tiny tit". And knowing now how much she detests you, to think you made her kiss your …
(But that was another time and another place).
Imagine what fun it would be living next to these Doshis! You wouldn't need UFC Fight Pass. You wouldn't even need a television! Every night would be Fight Night. Kelli, you've got to tell us about Damini's tussle with the Persian bitch. Or the night, her mother fought the owner of a Mexican restaurant chain (and rang her taco bell!). And you absolutely have now to take down Uma to complete the set! I bet she's telling herself, and telling all the others, how she's going to be the one to rescue the family honour. But does she really believe it? She's taller, heavier and more athletic than Damini, and she's exactly your age, so in theory she should be the hardest of the lot to beat, but my guess is that in her head she's already beaten. She'll be dynamite for the first five minutes and then she'll crack. Doesn't mean it won't be fun to watch though. If God didn't put estate agents on this earth for them to be beaten up by cowgirls, then I'm sure I don't know what his idea was.
This story was brilliant the first time but seeing it from another angle adds to the fun. From inside Damini's head, you see she's positively drooling at the prospect of watching her mother "make the cowgirl cry", but in the end, they're the ones left "wallowing around like pigs in the mud" (all four of them!) and the cowgirl's the only one who isn't in tears.
Well ain't that a shame!
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Chapter 2: Cynthia vs. Deanna by Joe Hallahan
Preface
These two women first appeared in KFJ. If you’re not familiar with KFJ, here’s a quick background. Deanna is a physical therapist at my hospital where I work as a nurse. She relocated from New York to Texas with her fiancé. She is very attractive but a rude, uncouth, aggressive bully. She was Kelli’s opponent in KFJ Chapter 1. https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=90742.0 You can read Kelli’s grittier version of the fight in FFJ Chapter 22 https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.75
Cynthia is a native Texan. She is a national collegiate cheerleading champion, married to her college sweetheart Josh, a former college football star whose NFL career failed miserably. Now in their 30s, Cynthia and Josh are obsessed with reliving their long past college glory days. Cynthia is generally a nice person, but can get downright vicious if her buttons get pushed. NEVER suggest to her that she and her husband are has-beens. She was my opponent in Chapter 8 of KFJ. Let’s not go there. She fought Deanna prior to fighting me.
Joe Hallahan is the fictional narrator and Deanna’s fiancé.
You will notice plenty of New York City and Texas stereotyping and jokes in this story. It’s all in fun and only used to create conflict for a fight story. In truth, I lived most of my life not far from NYC and Texas has been my adopted home for the past several years (Yes, that part of KFJ is real.) I love both. Regional geographic and cultural variation is part of what makes America so wonderful. So please, no hate mail.
And now….
She's cold and she's cruel
But she knows what she's doin'
Knows just what to say
So my whole day is ruined
'Cause she's bittersweet
She knocks me off of my feet
And I can't help myself
I don't want anyone else
She's a mystery
She's too much for me
But I keep comin' back for more
She's just the girl I'm lookin' for
-The Click Five
“‘Scoose me, ‘scoose me, over here. Anybody gawnna take our order? I wanna see the manager. You should all have your asses fired.” My fiancée was growing impatient. No surprise there. Our plans were simple: dinner at the bar and grill, then a movie.
“Let’s go, let’s go, people. We want SERVICE!” Deanna continued. “Gawd, why are Texans so damn slow.”
“My name is Vickie, and I’ll be your waitress,” chirped the smiling thin waitress, her blond hair pulled back into a bun, accentuating her thin upbeat face. “Are y’all ready to order now?”
“Ready? Are you freakin’ kiddin’? And what’s with the ‘y’all’. Y’all this, ‘y’all that. Doesn’t anybody tawk right here? If I hear one more Texas drawl, I swear I’m gawnna scream.”
The waitress’ smile looked more plastic by the second as she withstood the abuse. Deanna is certainly assertive. Some would say aggressive. Sometimes she can even be boorish. Okay, I know, sometimes she can be a total bitch. The young waitress twitched nervously as she backed off in intimidation. Her head bobbed and her hands trembled slightly as she took our order. Deanna glared at her, relishing the head game she controlled with this young woman. The poor girl couldn’t get away from our table fast enough as she stammered, “I’ll be back shortly with your meal.”
“Don’t you think you should tone it down,” I suggested.
“Why? Someone needs to hold these losers accountable,” she responded.
I looked at her thick black hair, the round gold earrings against her tan skin, the brown eyes, the bare shoulders above the strapless top. I gazed at her facial expression and body language. She was the alpha female and she wanted everyone to know it.
They say opposites attract. That’s certainly the case with Deanna and I. I’m Irish and fair skinned. She’s Italian and olive skinned. I’m blond, she’s a brunette. I’m quiet, she’s outgoing. I’m said to be low key and patient. Deanna can get loud and patience has never been a word associated with her. I’m rational and try to avoid conflicts. And Deanna? Well, she loves to fight.
My family and friends say I’m making a mistake. They say marrying this woman will be a disaster. They say my life will be miserable. She’ll control me, dominate me, embarrass me. But the truth is, in spite of all the warning signs, I can’t imagine life without her. Honestly, there’s something about her aggression and her combativeness that attracts me. Maybe, there’s just something deep inside me that desires a dominant woman.
Deanna grew up in one of the rougher neighborhoods in the Bronx. She started getting in fights at a young age. Later, she ran with a bad crowd and had a few brushes with the law. Fortunately, she straightened up a lot and finished high school. We met as students at Rutgers. I was working on my masters degree in mechanical engineering and she was studying to be a physical therapist. As the saying goes, you can take a person off the streets but the streets don’t always leave the person.
Deanna and I met at a frat party. We were having a conversation over beers. When she went to the bathroom, a blonde came over to me. It got flirty. When Deanna returned, she told the blonde to get lost. It got intense, words were exchanged. The two women nearly came to blows right there. My buddies and I took the girls to an upstairs room of the frat house. In front of seven or eight guys, we let them fight. Both screaming and cursing, they slapped, they wrestled, they pulled hair, they scratched. They rolled across the floor. Clothes were torn. I know we should have stopped it but due to the alcohol and sexual turn on, the guys let them finish. Finally, Deanna had the blonde on her back straddled and pinned, banging the back of her head on the floor and slapping her face, leaving the helpless girl in tears. We decided it was enough. Deanna and I spent the night in my off-campus apartment for the most amazing sex ever. From that night onward, I was in love.
When Deanna learned about the catpin sorority, she wasted no time seeking women to fight. We graduated, Deanna earned her catpin. We both found jobs on Long Island. After a few years of dating, we became engaged. Then, I received an offer from one of the oil companies in Texas which was too good to pass up. Deanna accepted a physical therapist position at a large teaching hospital. At first, she wasn’t happy about leaving New York. Then, she found her mission. Moving to Texas meant one thing to her - to prove she’s badder and better than any of those tough Texas bitches. Tonight, I convinced her not to wear her catpin.
“Looks like we’ll be here all night,” she moaned. “Gawd, Texans are so dumb. All they care about are guns, football, and Bibles. Like … take a look at that guy over there,” she said, pointing her head at a diner sitting alone a few tables away. “What a big galoot. He probably says, ‘Howdy pardner, I’m sure fixin’ to get me some grub.’”
“Oh come on, Deanna,” I protested. “You know that’s a silly stereotype. Most Texans don’t talk like that.”
“No, really,” she argued. “Just look at that guy… Wait a minute. He looks familiar. I think I’ve seen him before.”
“You’re right,” I concurred. “He does look familiar.” The man was tall, appeared to be in his mid-thirties, with brown hair and he was wearing a red football jersey with jeans.
“He looks like … Josh Garrison,” I suggested. Remember him. The Jets drafted him in the first round some years back. He was a quarterback.”
“Josh Garrison? Oh yeah, one of the worst draft busts in NFL history…I think that is him. He’s from this area. Oh great. Joe, can we skip this movie? I feel like we’re actually in a horror film. It’s called, ‘Night of the Losers’. I’m tired of waiting for the waitress. Let’s get some drinks from the bar.”
We slid up to the bar next to waiting patrons when Deanna pushed her way in front of a woman, nearly knocking her over.
“Hey,” the woman complained. “You’re very rude. I was next in line.” The woman asserted herself nudging her way back to her rightful place. She was quite attractive with her shoulder length light brown hair and green eyes. Yet, she appeared confident and not the least bit intimidated by my fiancée.”
“Too bad, honey,” my girlfriend retaliated, nudging the woman back. “You snooze, you lose.” The two women engaged in a shoulder bumping battle. Deanna gave her opponent one of her patented mean stares but the woman didn’t back down. Dressed in jeans and a red football jersey with an 18 emblazoned on the back, similar to the one worn by the man at the table, she contrasted with my Deanna with her jeans and sexy black strapless tight tank top, nicely snug over her 35D boobs. I knew my girl was in the wrong. I know she was being a bully but it’s just … so darn sexy. Finally, my better judgment took over.
“Deanna, I think this lady was here first and…”
My woman delivered one last hard shoulder block, sending the red jersey clad woman off balance, stumbling backward, bouncing off a middle-aged male patron.
“I’m telling the manager,” the woman said sternly through clenched teeth, regaining her balance.
“Go ahead, dear,” Deanna taunted. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you survival of the fittest is the law of nature?” As the woman turned, the name “Garrison” was in full view across the back of her jersey.
Deanna laughed, “Are you the president of the Jawsh Garrison fan club?”
“As a matter of fact, I am,” the woman’s eyes widened with intensity, as her breathing became shallow.
“Then you must have a membership of one. Who’d want to be a fan of that bum. We couldn’t ship him out of New Yawk fast enough. Hell, that draft bust sent the Jets back for years. Texas can have him.”
The woman clenched her fists, her shoulders hunched, her teeth grinded. Her eyes dropped to Deanna’s handbag, more specifically, to what was attached to the handbag.
My girl’s adversary could barely get out her words between breaths. “Is…that…a…cat…pin?”
“Damn right it is,” Deanna said proudly, her body language assuming dominance with her hip cocked, her shoulders back, and her chest puffed out.
The woman fumbled through her own handbag, her eyes not once fell from Deanna’s face. Finally, her hand emerged from the bag, holding up a matching catpin.
“Let’s…fight,” the woman snarled.
“Hey now, ladies,” the bartender said as a small crowd gathered around the two women. “If you can’t get along in here, we’ll ask both of you to leave.”
The woman in the red jersey softened her posture but maintained her stare as Deanna gave her a condescending smile.
“Come to our table,” the woman said. “Let’s talk.”
“Oh yeah,” Deanna grinned. “This is gawnna be good.”
The three of us joined Josh and stated our names. We learned the woman is named Cynthia and she is the wife of the ex-quarterback we insulted. Also, she likes to fight. I easily got the sense that she is very proud of her husband and is quite sensitive and defensive about criticisms of his football career. After a brilliant run as a college quarterback, it must have been a bitter disappointment to not find success in the NFL. Pro football fans can be merciless. I suspect this is at least part of what fuels her motivation to fight. Once tempers settled, we discussed business. Cynthia and Josh would host the fight in a ring in their home on Friday night with just the four of us present. The women would fight topless in panties. The fight would end in a submission. The couple appeared to be quite reasonable. They seemed to have a thing for colleges. Cynthia asked where Deanna went to college, then asked her to wear red panties to match Rutgers colors. No problem there, Deanna assured her. I looked at Deanna as we discussed arrangements and I felt a wave of excitement. She was already sizing up her opponent. I’m sure she was envisioning herself ripping this woman apart in front of me, her husband-to-be. My future wife is a badass. I love it.
For the rest of the week, Deanna and Cynthia exchanged text messages. Unsurprisingly, Deanna used every cheap insult she could think of to mess with Cynthia’s head.
“So what’s Josh doing now?,” she types. “Driving taxis or delivering pizzas?”
“What does Josh have in common with possums? Both play dead at home and get killed on the road.”
“What does Josh have in common with Rev. Billy Graham? Both could make 70,000 people in a stadium stand up and shout ‘Jesus Christ’.”
Deanna can be sadistic. “Hon, don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far?” I asked. Mind games are one thing but jokes about people’s very lives may take you somewhere you shouldn’t go.
Friday night arrived. I returned home from work, giddy with excitement. After a light dinner, I massaged Deanna and helped her stretch. She picked out her red panties and we headed to our hosts’ house. Their home was in an upper middle class neighborhood. Josh was jovial as he let us in. He gave us a brief tour through a home dedicated to the memory of his college years. In a large home gym room, Josh showed us the 18x18 feet ring with three ropes and a blue mat with a large emblem of their alta mater in the center. Deanna had never fought in a ring before and the excitement in her face was undeniable. Then Josh took us to a guest room where Deanna prepared for the fight.
As I studied her naked body, I became lost in my wonderment. Removing her earrings, necklace and rings, she began her transformation from ordinary woman to warrior. The eyes, the nose, the lips, all geared for the sensory input necessary to survive in the harshest and cruelest conditions. At 5’8” 140 pounds, her frame is magnificent. The well-toned arms and legs, the powerful thighs, the sinewy back and strong abdomen, the woman is a magnificent piece of art. The large but firm breasts jut out, the dark pink areolae and nipples fearlessly point forward. There will be a day when those breasts will be nourishment for our future offspring, but tonight, they will be part of a struggle for supremacy against another female gladiatrix, flesh against flesh. The dark red nail polish on her fingers and toes contrasted with her deep tan, invoking images of bloody weapons. Then, there’s her attitude: bold, confident, unforgiving, merciless. She’s a warrior. She could have any man but she chose…me. She’s a proud fighter and she is…mine.
“These people are crazy,” Deanna muttered. “They keep reliving cawllege because he was shit in the NFL. And what’s with those red jerseys. Look, there’s one there,” she says, pointing to one of Josh’s red number 18 jerseys sitting atop of a pile of folded clothes, apparently intended to stored in a closet. My naked future wife holds it up, rolls her eyes, then crumbles it into a ball before tossing it in her gym bag. “It’s mine now,” she declares.
“No Deanna, you can’t. It’s stealing.”
“I said it’s mine now,” she reasserts as she tosses it in the open gym bag. “So what. They got thousands of them here.”
As she zipped the gym bag, I noted a box of what appeared to be markers and small squeeze bottles inside. “What’s that?” I asked.
“Body paint,” she answered.
“What the fuck for?”
“Uh, Cynthia and I agreed to stakes. You’ll see.” Oh good Lord, I thought. That’s my Deanna. She always full of surprises.
Josh summoned us to the ring. Deanna slipped on her red panties as I walked her to the ring like a prize fighter. Her breasts jiggled with each step as we entered the place of battle. The ring evoked a primal emotion in both of us, imposing a harsh reality of excitement and dread mixed together. One woman will leave victorious and jubilant. The other will lie defeated and broken.
Cynthia made her way into the gym, confidently striding forward in her red jersey. She performed an athletic jump over the top rope, then proceeded to stretch. She stood up again, only to execute a leg split twice, first the right leg forward, then the left, demonstrating amazing flexibility. I could never do that even in high school while stretching for track practice.
“She’s a national cheerleading champion,” I told Deanna. “She’s an elite athlete.”
“Ha,” Deanna scoffed, “This is fighting.”
Josh summoned us to the center of the ring where the four of us gathered to review the rules. There would be no punches or kicks to the head or biting. The fight would end with a verbal submission or tap out. The women stood face to face, their noses nearly touching. Deanna had a one inch height and 12 pound weight advantage. Compared to Cynthia, her muscles were bigger, she appeared stronger. Cynthia looked sleeker but still tightly muscled. She already established her agility and flexibility. I know Deanna is not afraid, she has repeatedly overpowered this type of opponent with her aggression and strength. Their breasts protruded in opposition. Deanna’s were larger, tan skin and dark areola and long nipples proclaiming dominance. Cynthia’s bare boobs, smaller but with creamy skin an pink areola, appeared pert with a hint of feistiness about them, as they answered Deanna’s pair in defiance. My girl looked disdainfully at the former cheerleader while Cynthia appeared intense. The women separated and went back into their corners to wait for Josh’s command.
Josh gave the order, “FIGHT!” Both women charged to the center of the ring. Cynthia, perhaps respecting Deanna’s power, feigned a lockup but pulled back to maneuver to the side. My girl saw it coming. Grabbing Cynthia’s arm, she pulled her opponent back close, wrapping her arms around the woman’s head and neck. Cynthia took hold of Deanna’s neck with her free arm and the two fighters, pulled, and slapped at each other, screaming, spinning, and stumbling around the ring. Not surprisingly, Deanna took control. Despite Cynthia holding on to her hair, it was Deanna dictating the direction of the fighters. Cynthia thrashed and kicked at my fiancée’s legs but my honey was a bulldog, driving Cynthia into the ropes.
With her opponent’s back to the ropes, and forcing the neck down with one arm, my fighting vixen fired punches to the ribs as Cynthia squealed, trying to block the blows with her arm. Deanna backed up, threw a series of hard slaps to the head, leaving Cynthia bent over and covering up. My babe next saw an opportunity, easily grabbing on to Cynthia’s hair and spun her around, taking away her balance and flinging her to the canvas.
Seeing her opportunity, Deanna pounced on her fallen prey, however, Cynthia, on her back, managed to get her knees up to prevent a full mount. That didn’t stop Deanna from relenting her aggressive tactics, as she rained a flurry of body punches and head slaps, most of them blocked. Unable to get past Cynthia’s raised knees, Deanna lost her position when Cynthia used her legs to push her to the side before rolling to an escape. I had to give Cynthia credit. She used her legs well defensively. But I thought it’d be a matter of time before she’d succumb to Deanna’s power and relentless attack.
Indeed, Cynthia barely rose to her feet when my warrior princess rushed in firing body shots to the ribs and kidneys. A hard right to the midsection doubled over Mrs. Draft Bust before she dropped to her knees. Deanna immediately took advantage using her foot to shove her victim in the chest, knocking her over to her side. Standing over Cynthia, yanking her by the hair as she got back to her knees, Deanna pulled her face upward and fired a vicious slap across the face, the loud smacking sound reverberating through the playroom.
Still on her knees, Cynthia looked stunned and her face red as Deanna reached for the brown hair to deliver another crack across the face. To my surprise, the agile former cheerleader dove for Deanna’s legs, wrapping her arms around the knees, and driving her body forward. Deanna let out a shriek as she tumbled to the mat and Cynthia lurched on top of her. The two women wrestled for control, rolling on the mat, shrieking and grunting, grabbing onto each other’s arms and hair, their legs kicking and clamoring. I thought Deanna, being stronger and heavier would have the advantage. As I expected, she established the top position, but Cynthia proved to be good defensively. The fight turned into a titillating ground game as both both sexy bodies struggled against each other. With Deanna keeping Cynthia on her back, I figured it’d be a matter of time before the former college star would wear out.
Suddenly, in a flash, the woman in the red football panties executed an impressive reversal, maneuvering into a top mount on my girlfriend. Deanna managed to twist her body and position herself face down with Cynthia on her back. Surprisingly, Cynthia backed off slightly, giving my girl more room. I didn’t understand it but then it became apparent. When Deanna lifted her head and chest off the mat, Cynthia quickly struck. Using her speed and agility, the amazing legs wrapped around Deanna’s neck, locking at the ankles into a head scissors. Deanna only had time to gasp as her attacker’s legs forced her back down to the mat on her side.
I felt weird seeing her in this position fearing Cynthia cinched in a choke. Fortunately, that wasn’t quite the case. Deanna’s right arm was raised up to her head when Cynthia applied the scissors. Her neck blood vessels were protected by her arm. It wasn’t a choke. Still, Deanna was in trouble, down on the mat, with Cynthia fully in control.
For a few moments, Deanna’s lay awkwardly on the mat, grunting and snorting, as Cynthia tried to tighten the hold. My doll’s proud chest heaved for air, the bare tits riding along in an expansion and retraction pattern. Surely, Cynthia must’ve realized she didn’t have the choke in place put that didn’t stop her from growling, “Give up, bitch.” Fuck, I never heard anyone ask my wife-to-be if she wanted to give up.”
“Fuck no!” Deanna growled, her voice muffled by Cynthia’s legs around her mouth. I watched my sweetie shift her body and gain some traction on her knees as Cynthia continued to lie on her side trying to maintain the leg scissors around Deanna’s head and raised arm.
With her one free arm, Deanna tried prying Cynthia’s ankles apart enough to slip her head through the hold. She came close several times but one hand and arm was no match for Cynthia’s legs. However, she managed to get herself on both knees, forcing Cynthia onto her back. That was all she needed. Her leverage wasn’t great but it was enough. With closed fists, knuckles protruding for extra damage, my gladiatrix went to work burying punches into Cynthia’s thighs. The wincing of Cynthia’s face and her barely controlled whimpers couldn’t hide the effects of Deanna’s blows. One after another, easy shots pounded her opponents gorgeous strong legs until Cynthia relented, releasing the scissors. Free, Deanna, took a deep breath and coughed but not before Cynthia, from her back, delivered a kick to the chest. Deanna took the blow, scrambled backwards as Cynthia rolled in the other direction. Now, with considerable space separating them, both ladies slowly rose to their feet.
“Dumb Texas bitch,” Deanna taunted.
“Fuck you, cxnt,” Cynthia answered.
The women approached each other, their eyes glaring with hatred, their hair a wild mess. Simultaneously, they lunged at each other, locking their arms around each other’s neck and waist in a standing grappling contest. I was sure Deanna was stronger and this would work in her favor. However, Cynthia stood her ground as they pushed against each other, panting and grunting, their muscles bulging and flaring, their bare feet digging into the mat as they tried to throw each other off balance. The bare breasts pressed together as the legs drove forward into a stalemate. As a guy, the sight of these two was like an epiphany. Two strong gorgeous women locked in combat, their sweat reflecting the overhead light off their skin. They looked like creatures from some ancient mythology. So primal, so beautiful, so sexy.
As I expected, Deanna gradually took control, backing up her opponent. After blocking Deanna’s hip toss attempt, Cynthia was vulnerable and Deanna took full advantage, driving her knee to the belly. Our hostess doubled over as Deanna moved in for the kill. My woman charged forward driving Cynthia into the ropes. Then she went to work. A yank of the hair, a slap to the face, a backhand chop to the chest, punches to the body, a rake of the red polished fingernails across the tits. Seemingly defenseless, Cynthia bent over in half trying to cover but Deanna was relentless. Just a matter of time now, I was sure. Then out of desperation, Cynthia managed one more defensive escape. Crouching low, she pulled off a gymnastic forward roll right under Deanna’s arms and away from her ropes. Deanna, like a cat, waited patiently for Cynthia to rise, finding the right moment to charge again. Cynthia appeared to wobble some as she stood up. Deanna rushed at her to finish the kill.
It happened so fast. I wasn’t sure if I saw it clearly. As Deanna shot in, Cynthia went low, wrapped her arm around my girl’s thigh, grabbed her arm, and lifted her over her back in a fireman’s carry, dropping her on her back. Deanna instinctively turned onto her hands and knees, as it was now Cynthia stalking prey.
With Deanna on her knees, Cynthia came from behind, pushed Deanna’s head forward, then again used those deadly legs, clamping on a standing head scissors. I could hear Deanna’s distressed moans. Her head was wedged between Cynthia’s thighs just below the pussy. I didn’t like the angle of her neck and back. I was worried.
“Give up. Your finished,” barked Cynthia.
“No fucking way,” Deanna responded. Her weak voice was discouraging.
For a very tense minute, I wondered if Deanna would tap out or if I should throw in the towel. I could tell Cynthia had the scissors on tight.
Then, in an incredible effort, Deanna wrapped her arms around Cynthia’s ankles, shifted her legs, pushed up off her knees and straightened her back, lifting Cynthia off her feet. Then unbelievably, my girl began to stand, with Cynthia on her shoulders still holding onto the scissors. Holy shit! Even I didn’t know Deanna was this strong.
Deanna sprung up on her legs in an attempt to stand. She did get to her feet but never gained stability. Exhausted and with the awkward weight of Cynthia on her shoulders, my sweet cakes stumbled backwards. Unable to recover her footing, she barreled toward the ropes, carrying Cynthia with her. Then the shit hit the fan. The ladies uncontrollably crashed into the ropes. As the two bodies fell backwards, Cynthia broke her hold and, with a shrill scream, fell over the top rope onto the carpeted floor below as Deanna dropped on her butt inside the ring.
Josh and I quickly ran to check on Cynthia who demanded to continue the fight. The guys agreed her fall out of the ring was accidental and the fight would resume. We also agreed our women could have a thirty second break.
I met Deanna in our corner as Cynthia collected herself outside the ring. I wiped her face with a towel and rubbed her sweaty skin. “Are you OK, babe?” I asked. “Cynthia is tough, isn’t she.”
“She’s mine,” Deanna replied. “She’s got nothing left. She’s done.”
Deanna made a sly smirk. I recognized it. It’s the smile she wears when she thinks of something devious. “Joe, get me the jersey.”
“What jersey?”
“The red jersey. It’s in my gym bag. “
“The one you stole? Why? What are you going to do with it?”
“Just get it. Give it to me NOW!”
I’ll never know why I obeyed her. I guess everyone is right. For some reason this woman has a spell on me. She controls me. I handed her Josh’s jersey.
With Cynthia still outside the ring, Deanna took her position on the school emblem in the center of the ring. To my utter shock, she proceeded to remove her panties, kicking them away with her feet, standing there stark naked. It was surreal but there she was, her gorgeous round ass and dense black bush in full view.
“Deanna! What are you doing?” I shouted. Shit, I thought. Now she’s out of her mind.
With the red jersey in hand, Deanna, in her birthday suit, waited as Cynthia climbed through the ropes to return to the ring. I’ll never forget what happened next. As Cynthia made her way back, Deanna, standing on the school emblem squatted. Reaching behind, she wedged the jersey into the crack of her ass, moving it from a front to back motion as if it were toilet paper.
After she completed wiping her ass, Deanna dropped the jersey, then mimed flushing a toilet handle.
Cynthia stood at the edge of the ring, her eyes wide with horror, her mouth wide open. Her hands clenched into fists, her back arched like an alley cat.
“You fucking BITCH!” she shrieked with an intensity that made me nervous. The offended woman rushed at Deanna, who back pedaled away, dodging the onslaught. Cynthia stopped her charge on the logo, gently picking up the desecrated jersey. As carefully as if she were handling a priceless possession, the school alumna held the top of the jersey with her finger tips, letting the garment spread out to be inspected by her loving eyes. Suddenly and eerily, the face contorted into a look of horror, as if she just witnessed the slaughter of cute puppies. Did she see something? Was there a tear? Did Deanna leave …a skid mark? I have my suspicions which I’ll keep to myself.
With a blood curdling scream, Cynthia ran at Deanna like a missile. Deanna dug in to meet her. She was not prepared this time. Cynthia threw her body at my girl like a spear, knocking her down and falling on top of her. Cynthia on top mounted Deanna and in a fury, threw punch after punch at her chest and belly. Deanna gamely fought back and managed to throw Cynthia off of her and escape but it wouldn’t last. Cynthia ran her into the ropes and with the ferocity of a hurricane, attacked with a whirlwind of punches, knees, slaps and kicks. My fiancée was slumped against the ropes and helpless. Before I could throw in the towel, Cynthia wrapped her arms around Deanna lifting her off her feet before twisting and throwing my woman to the mat.
Deanna lay face down, and I suspect she was confused, as Cynthia stood over her, straddling her at shoulder level as patient as a cat hovering over her mouse. Slowly, Deanna lifted up her head, pushing her upper body up with her elbows. Cynthia backed away from her, circling, her movements stealth and deliberate. I felt a sense of dread. It was clear Cynthia had an end game plan. The way she looked at Deanna’s body turned my dread to ominous despair. She looked like a predator setting up the final kill. As my fighter pushed herself to her knees, I felt as though she was vulnerable, unknowingly setting herself up for her Cynthia’s fatal delivery, whatever that may be.
Deanna shifted her weight from her elbows to her hands and knees. I saw Cynthia’s powerful legs contract, her knees bent slightly. “No Deanna,” I screamed. “Stay down.”
Then it happened. The former cheerleader’s legs sprang into action, wrapping around my girl’s neck in a figure four position, then clamping into a scissors around her head and neck, her powerful thighs and calves, squeezing and contracting. Deanna let out a muffled scream, as Cynthia’s control of her head forced her back down to the mat and on her side. I heard her make a sickening choking gasping sound as she frantically punched and clawed at her attacker’s thighs.
I felt like my heart would stop. I had never seen my woman on the verge of defeat. But there she was, her beautiful strong body helpless, her thick black wavy hair splayed wildly in all directions. With her face engulfed by her opponent’s muscular lower extremities, I could make out her forehead, now maroon from her compressed veins. She was being choked. I swallowed hard and uttered words I did not expect. “Deanna, you can tap out. It’s OK babe, tap out.”
She waved her hand in defiance, somehow shifting her weight partially to her knees. She tried digging her hands between her neck and Cynthia’s legs, desperately trying to relieve the pressure off the vital structures of her neck. She scratched. She clawed. Cynthia responded by twisting her body, sending the top of Deanna’s head buried into the mat, creating a horrible angle of my girl’s neck and the rest of her body. Her knees were on the mat, with her bare ass facing upward. With her head firmly fixed, the legs uselessly twitched like a dying rabbit caught in a snare. Oh fuck, I thought, this could be dangerous.
“That’s enough,” I called out. I entered the ring to break it up. It wouldn’t be necessary. I saw Deanna’s hand, forlornly tap Cynthia’s leg. The two women came apart. Deanna rolled to her side, gasping and coughing. Cynthia crawled away on her hands and knees, retrieving her husband’s defiled jersey. I squatted down beside my fallen woman, lightly taking hold of her hand. “Babe, are you OK?” I whispered. Deanna made a quick gagging sound, made eye contact with me for just a second before turning her head. The look of shame on her face said it all. “You fought a great fight, love. And when we get home, I’ll…”
I’m interrupted by a knee nudging me in the back. I turn to see Cynthia standing, clutching the red jersey. She said nothing but her message was clear, “Get out of my way.” I’m not sure why but I offered no protest. I rose, leaving my wife’s side, effectively handing her over to her conqueror. Cynthia wasted no time moving in, rolling my future wife onto her belly, mounting her back. The cheer coach, pulling Deanna’s head up by her hair, deposited the jersey on the mat, then shoved my girl’s nose into it. I noticed Josh standing on the other side of the women, watching silently.
“Kiss it!” Cynthia demanded…”Did you hear me? I said KISS IT!!!”
I wanted to intervene. I wanted to say Deanna has had enough. I wanted to pull Cynthia off of my girl. Yet,…I couldn’t. Something inside told me this is how it must play out. Something primitive and carnal, like a voice, said the women must finalize what they started. All debts are to be settled. No doubts are to remain. No questions to be asked.
The two men quietly looked on as the women played out their ritual of justice and punishment, of victrix and vanquished, of pride and brokenness. “Kiss it, NOW,” Cynthia screamed.
In the midst of muffled sobs, Deanna made an unmistakeable lip smacking sound. “There, she did it,” Josh acknowledged, showing a hint of compassion. Cynthia released her grip from the back of Deanna’s head, then slowly lifted off of her, rising to her feet, as Deanna lay face down. I motioned to retrieve my fallen female warrior, but Cynthia again silently indicated she wasn’t done yet. Her foot lightly kicked against Deanna’s arm. Understanding the cue, my woman obediently rolled over offering up her chest and belly, like land about to be impaled by the flag of the conqueror.
Cynthia claimed the spoils. After draping the offended jersey over Deanna’s face, she placed her foot on my future wife’s breastbone, just between her tits. With one hand on her hips, she raised the other one triumphantly, making a fist, then transitioning into a flexed biceps pose. I found my eyes glued to her. Her hair was a mess, her face was reddened, yet, she was beautiful. Her green eyes and smile radiated jubilation, relief, the joy and self-pride of having vanquished a foe, of engaging in hand-to-hand combat and emerging as the better woman. Her skin, although splotched with red marks and scratches, glowed. The breasts were perky again, the nipples awakened, rejoicing in the knowledge of their safety, knowing the battle was won. Her muscles undoubtedly ached, but her posture reflected the confidence and self assurance of the victrix. At that moment, I thought she was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life. But she could never be mine. She was deeply in love with her husband and wore the number 18 on her red panties to prove it. My eyes tracked down to the strong, athletic legs. Even her feet were beautiful as they pinned the woman I’m about to marry to the mat, claiming their ownership of her.
My eyes turned to Deanna. Her head, hidden under the number 18, tilted to the side. I thought of how alone she must feel in her humiliation. The thick black hair was a chaotic cascade. She still looked beautiful…but different. It was the same body. The bronze skin, the thick muscular build, the bosomy chest. It was all there, but it was if all the spirit and vitality were gone. The chest took in air but the nipples flattened as they moved up and down as if trying to hide. All the muscles were still, the arms, legs, hands, feet, red polished fingers and toes uselessly lay motionless. The large black bush now seemed to shrink in embarrassment. She was like a proud wild animal that had been sedated and put on public display.
Finally, Cynthia dismounted, leaving Deanna on her back, the jersey on her face, for which Deanna made no effort to remove. I squatted by her side and lifted the jersey for her. The face was expressionless, the eyes flooded with tears. She glanced at me briefly before looking away. The breathing rate was slowing down, she made no attempt to get up. I held her hand and kissed her forehead. “That was a great fight, babe. You were wonderful,” I whispered. In their corner, Cynthia and Josh were locked in a passionate embrace.
Deanna acknowledged me with her eyes but gave no other response. Finally, as if she just realized she was naked, folded her arms over her breasts and crossed her legs, rolling to her side. “Hold on to me, my love,” I said. “Let me help you up.” I grabbed her arm, as she clung to mine. With my other arm around her waist, I lifted her up. After a short stumble, she regained her footing. The eyes still seemed a little glazed and the lips quivered. All I could do was hug her and kiss her head. “I’m so proud of you,” I told her. In truth, I didn’t know how I felt. I only knew Deanna as strong, aggressive, a true alpha female. Seeing her in this state, I may have been just as stunned and confused. “Let’s go home, honey,” I said. “Let’s get you washed up and in bed. You’ll be fine. You’ll be back.” I walked her back to our corner and picked up her gym bag.
“Wait a minute,” a woman’s voice called behind us. I turned to see Cynthia, back to wearing her own Josh jersey, holding a body paint kit, much like the one in Deanna’s bag. “We have one last piece of business,” she informed.
“Look,” I argued, “I don’t know what you have in mind but Deanna’s had enough. Leave her alone.”
“She agreed to stakes before the match,” Cynthia argued. “In fact, she demanded it. It was her idea.This will only take a minute. Now Deanna, turn around.”
“Deanna, is that true?” I asked. She didn’t need to speak to answer. The truth was on her face.
Cynthia quickly positioned herself behind my girlfriend’s back. With a large paint marker, she drew a large red 18 on Deanna’s back. Taking a black marker, she penned the letters “NYC” on defeated woman’s left ass cheek and ‘Sucks” on the right buttock. Moving to the front, the winner wrote “Property of” on Deanna’s upper chest followed by “Cynthia” on the belly.
“There,” Cynthia beamed. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Oh, one last thing.” Deanna’s conqueror picked up the dirty jersey off the mat. “We have a rule. You break it. You bought it. But we’re giving this to you for free. Now raise your arms.”
Deanna, still speechless, followed the order. Cynthia and Josh stood on each side of her, spreading out the jersey, then slipping it over her head, directing the arms into the sleeves, then pulling it down over her body, where it extended to her mid thighs. Deanna’s lips began to quiver again. “Are we done, now?” I snarled.
“Yes,” Cynthia replied. “Kindly leave.”
I held Deanna’s hand with mine, carried her gym bag with the other, helped her out of the ring as Cynthia and Josh followed behind us. As we exited the front door, Cynthia gave Deanna a poke in the ass with a cheerleader baton as if it were a cattle prod. Neither of us said anything.
The drive home was excruciating. Deanna, in the passenger seat, donning painted skin and a jersey that smelled like her ass would intermittently break out sobbing. I wondered how this experience would change her. I thought of how our relationship might never be the same. I tried to reassure her. I mentioned how everyone loses at some point but the good ones come back. I told her how she can beat Cynthia in a rematch. I tried to joke.
“Sure you’ll beat her, girl. Come on, she married Josh Garrison, the king of the pick six pass interceptions. They’re Texans, for Pete’s sake. A red state. They probably voted for Trump. What do you call a man who crosses the Mexican border seeking a better life for himself and his family? Ted Cruz. What does a woman in Dallas call a hand job? Texas Hold ‘em. What do you get if Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas seceded from the U.S.? A new country called KOTEX. Why is Texas the Lone Star State? Because one star was the minimum allowed in a five star rating system. See Deanna. You’ll totally kick her ass next time.
I noted her chest heaved again but this time she was holding back laughter. Then she finally smiled and spoke, ‘Yeah Joe, I know I can take her.”
Then I saw it by the side of the road. It must have been 14 feet high and 48 feet long. Red, white and blue. The lone star. The silhouette of the map of Texas. And the words. I tried to distract Deanna. I asked her to count cows by the side of the rode. I didn’t want her to see it. Too late.
The huge billboard was from an anti-littering campaign. The letters were emblazoned, declaring it’s slogan, DON’T MESS WITH TEXAS.
My girl’s laughter reverted to sobs, then to loud wailing. Shit!
-
Fantastic! A great, rough and tumble fight. Two interesting characters that we get to learn more about. Humor and silliness. It has everything. Plus I really like getting to see a Catpin story from a husband/boyfriend's point of view. It really changes the perspective.....and let's not forget that this was a completely new story! That also makes it fun!
I really like the Cynthia character she's got all the psychoness of Candace but is just so like able :) (Sorry she uncorked her crazy on you Kiva). And she typically only loses it for fairly admirable reasons. I do especially like getting to see more of what makes her tick.
And then there's Deanna, she is just such a good heel. Like in the traditional old school pro wrestling way. It was fun seeing her fiancé give us a different side of her as well... implying that she overcame some stuff and was somewhat lovable.
All in all, a great chapter!
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It's always gratifying to watch a bully gets his or her comeuppance – Deanna had had it coming her whole life, I imagine – but when justice is meted out by Cynthia (the better woman in every respect: the stronger willed, the more athletic, the more courageous, the more cunning and – certainly, in victory – the sexier ten times over as well) it's even more fun. Cynthia didn't just beat Deanna, she thrashed her. She is Nemesis, the implacable goddess of justice and retribution, still as much in love with her college sweetheart as when they first met, and fiercely protective of him in a way that's comical but at the same time noble and rather romantic, and ready – to any who heap ridicule upon his sweet head – to bury them under a mountain of the stuff.
An inch taller, twelve pounds heavier with bigger muscles … never doubting for an instant that she'd rip Cynthia apart in front of her husband, and she ends up on her knees, "with her bare arse facing upward" in the air, her face turning purple and her legs twitching like those of "a dying rabbit caught in a snare."
I loved this:
My eyes turned to Deanna. Her head, hidden under the number 18, tilted to the side. I thought of how alone she must feel in her humiliation. The thick black hair was a chaotic cascade. She still looked beautiful…but different. It was the same body. The bronze skin, the thick muscular build, the bosomy chest. It was all there, but it was if all the spirit and vitality were gone. The chest took in air but the nipples flattened as they moved up and down as if trying to hide. All the muscles were still, the arms, legs, hands, feet, red polished fingers and toes uselessly lay motionless. The large black bush now seemed to shrink in embarrassment. She was like a proud wild animal that had been sedated and put on public display.
And I loved the poke in the ass with a cheerleader baton "as if it were a cattle prod" at the end. Bet that made her jump!
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Chapter 3: War on the Water’s Edge (Grace’s Story Told To Kiva)
Introduction and Background
FFJ Ch 17: “War on the Water’s Edge” is memorable for its creative fight setting, nail biting action, and surprise outcome. Kelli had just come off a brutal and humiliating loss to the unstoppable Candace, a fight in which she suffered bruised ribs. She visited a new lakefront development hoping to land contract work. Despite persisting rib pain, she ended up in a impromptu fight with Grace, a petite young Asian saleswoman and catpin wearer. Grace is small but feisty. Kelli has a 20 lb weight and 4.5 inch height advantage but must fight through rib pain. You can read this thriller at https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.30
I encountered Grace while considering buying a lakefront weekend getaway property. What follows in Grace’s account of her fight with Kelli.
You gotta believe
You gotta be strong
You gotta sharpen your claws,
fluff up your tail,
and sing this mighty song
Small but mighty
Small but mighty
When you're powerful and wise,
You can rise above any size
If you belittle being little,
Then your quest is doomed to fail
But when you're small but mighty,
The mighty shall prevail
You gotta persist!
-From Disney’s Teacher’s Pet
“This place is so beautiful, Tom. Let’s buy it…Now!”
The three of us laugh, Tom and I, and Grace, the pretty petite Asian sales manager sitting at the desk across from us in her office. With all we’ve been through lately, we decided to do something special for ourselves. And for me, nothing is more special than our own lake house. The new development is perfect for us. I love water. I love boating, swimming, sunbathing. There’s also hiking, horseback riding and mountain biking here. It’s a perfect getaway spot not far from home.
Tom rounded on his patients at the hospital this morning, then met me here. Grace, our saleswoman, went over the specifics with us.
“Can we, can we…close the deal today? I ask.” More laughter.
“Not quite,” my husband says as he stands up to answer his pager. “There’s a process.”
“All of our buyers fall in love with these homes immediately,” Grace explains. “You’ve already been pre-approved. We’ll need to complete the usual steps - credit history, financial statements and so on. Once everything is finalized, we’ll set up a closing date.”
“How long will that take?” I jokingly feign impatience.
“Kiva,” My husband returns from his call. “I have to head back to the hospital. Emergency cardiac catheterization.” I give him a kiss before he leaves. “Let’s buy a boat, too,” I coo at him.
“Kiva and I will go over the documents we’ll need to get the ball rolling,” Grace says as the saleswoman smiles at me. The woman is attractive. She looks young, although with her heavy makeup, it’s not easy to tell her age. Her delicate Asian features are framed by black straight hair to her shoulders. She is dressed businesslike in a gray skirt and blazer over a white blouse and matching gray high heels. She looks over our application.
“A doctor and a nurse, I see. You two must have some interesting conversations at home. What kind of nursing?”
“ICU.”
“Wow, that must be a demanding job.” As she extends her arm, I see something attached to the inside of her blazer, something she is hiding. I could swear it’s a cat pin. As she hands me another document, my eyes zero in on the object. Yes! No doubt about it. Grace has a cat pin. At first, I ponder the idea of this petite woman fighting. She’s small but seems tightly muscled. Still, I’d have no problem taking her. My first impulse is to pull my pin out of my handbag. No, bad idea. I can’t fight this woman. I’m not about to jeopardize our lake house purchase. Still, the curiosity overwhelms me. I want to know about her as a fighter.
“Excuse me, Grace?” I ask. “I hope you don’t mind, but I noticed an unusual pin inside your jacket. It looks like a …cat. Are you in a cat lovers club?”
“Oh this?” She responds. “No it’s just a pin. I thought it was interesting. I usually don’t wear it openly.”
“I see,” I reply. I begin to resume the conversation but my interest in her fights is just too intense.
“Look.., um…Grace. I’ll tell you the truth. I know about the cat pin. So,…you fight? I mean, if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s OK. I’ll respect your privacy. I was just curious.”
Grace stares at me silently for a moment. “Yes, I fight,” her voice low and deliberate. “Do you?”
“We’ll, yes. I mean, I did. I’m not active currently.” I know I’m not being honest. I just don’t want to be pressured into a fight with Grace and risk losing our lake house deal.
Grace continues in her low voice as she begins her disclosure. “I’ve always been driven to succeed. My parents instilled into me a work ethic. Whatever activity I’ve done, school, piano, gymnastics, I gave it everything. I may not have been the best, but I worked harder than everyone else. After I’ve graduated from college with a degree in marketing, I went into real estate. I set company records in sales. Now here I am, age 28, the sales manager of a lakeside community development.”
“That’s impressive,” I tell her. “Is that Mercedes Benz yours?”
“Yes,” she answers and then resumes. “I’m competitive. Always have been. I’m obsessed with proving myself. That’s why I started catfighting. To prove myself against other women. To be better than them. To master them. I know I’m only 5’1” and 110 lbs. But to wear the cat pin, you have to be prepared for anyone. I’m not afraid to fight bigger girls. I’ve beaten some. Even if I don’t win, they’ll be hurting. They’ll know they’ve been in a fight.”
“Sounds like you’re fearless,” I tell her. “That’s a good trait in a fighter.”
“Yes,” she agrees. Grace points to her office window. “See that dock down there? I once destroyed a blonde at the edge of the lake. She was about 5 inches taller and at least 20 pounds heavier than me. We fought all over the dock, the grass, the water until she submitted.”
“Well, that sounds different,” I reply. “Tell me about.”
Grace pulls herself forward in her chair and I see her become more animated. Clearly, she wants to tell this story and I’m providing a very welcomed opportunity.
“Yeah, well, I came to work like any other day. I was the only one here and I’m waiting to meet this woman from a company that builds and remodels, who was hoping for a contract with us. Then, this blonde chick walks in. She looked to be about 40. She was attractive. I’ll give her that. Well, this bimbo shakes my hand, and wouldn’t you know it, she’s wearing this fucking cat pin right on the front of her denim jacket. And I’m thinking, Are you fucking kidding?”
“Seriously?” I interject. “She’s on business and she’s wearing a cat pin.”
“Can you believe it?”
“Sounds like a real dumbass.”
“So, I’m thinking this is too good to be true. You see, she has no idea that I fight. I have my cat pin hidden so I decide to play games with her. I act real coy and say, ‘Nice pin.’” Meanwhile, I’m planning on taking her down to the lake and kicking her ass. So I lead her down this path and on to the dock. She had no clue to what I was about to do to her. Meanwhile, I’m sizing her up and licking my chops. I knew she was bigger than me but I knew I could beat her.”
“Well, we get to the dock. It just rained, so it’s muddy everywhere. I’m wearing a yellow blouse and a tight skirt and black panty hose and this idiot has a white tank top and blue jeans. I told her to take her boots off. I took off my heels. When she straightened up, I showed her my cat pin and said, “Let’s see what you got, cxnt.” I think she was surprised but she didn’t seemed flustered. She said, “Bring it, bitch.”
“The next thing you knew, we tore into each other. We’re slapping, punching, scratching and clawing. We tear each other’s tops. My blouse buttons popped off. We both had scratches on our arms. I’ll admit she was stronger than me so she started slinging me around and hitting me with body shots. I felt it. She tore off my blouse, then my bra, then knocked me down so I’m on my back, bare chested.”
“This fool ripped off her tank top and was down to her bra, trash talked me, then jumped on me. You know what she did next?”
“What”
“She jumped on me, wrapped her top around my throat and started choking me with it.”
“Holy Sh-“
“Yep, I thought, Shit, this bitch is crazy. So I was struggling, clawing, bucking, trying to do anything as I’m getting choked. I ended up punching her in the ribs. I know it hurt. I heard her squeal and lurch back. That’s how I got away. The skank didn’t know I could punch but she just found out. She’s face down hurt. I have a target now so I go for the rib. I yanked her hair, ripped her bra off, then drove my knee into her ribs. She’s just laying there moaning. Then she started trying to crawl away but I grab her hair, pull up her and said, “Where do you think you’re going cxnt?” Then I just kept slapping her face.”
I look at Grace’s hands and have a hard time imagining those tiny fists doing much damage.
“She’s so pathetic,” Grace continues. “She couldn’t take a punch. I mean, I hit her in the ribs while lying on my back. My back! And she caved! So I yanked her by the hair, pushed my nose against hers and demanded she submit. So what did she do? She reached under my skirt and dug her nails into my pussy. I went down and we start wrestling and rolling all over the dock. So here we were, in a catball, going at it. Finally, we rolled into the grass. It’s muddy as hell. Next thing you knew, we’re covered in mud.”
“This sounds wild,” I comment.
“Yeah, it was. We’re both caked in mud. She ended up on top of me. The dumb shit thought she had me pinned but I got my legs around her waist. All I had to do was squeeze and she let out this scream. I mean, this was so easy.”
“I figured it’s time to end it. She fell off of me and I squeezed and squeezed and she’s just lying there screaming. Then I said to her, “Submit to me, blonde bitch. I’ll break your fucking ribs. Say it, slut!” I’m trying to pull her hair but there was so much mud on her head. I felt her trying to claw at my thighs but I knew I got her. And then…and then…she attacked me again in the pussy.”
“Sounds like this girl can’t fight,” I add. “The only thing she knows how to do is attack the pussy.”
“That’s right,” Grace resumes. “It hurt like hell. She ended up escaping. We both got up slowly. I couldn’t believe she was so stupid. She could have just submitted when she had the chance. She was just prolonging her own agony. I thought next time I won’t be as easy on her. I wanted her to suffer. We were both hurting but we get to our feet. The bitch actually had the nerve to trash talk me. We started swinging in the grass. We tied up, pulled each other’s hair, then we fell into the lake.”
“Holy crap!”
“Yes, we’re fighting and splashing in the water. At least it washed most of the mud off. I could tell she’s struggling to breathe. She couldn’t take any more. We ended up rolling to the lake shore in a few inches of water. She was nothing but a wet dish rag at this point. So I went for the kill. I got on top of her, pinned her arms, grapevined her legs and started stretching the shit out of her.”
“Did she submit, then?” I ask.
“Not at first, although I repeatedly demanded it. I just kept tensing up my legs and stretching her. I got her locked in good. She was so helpless, she couldn’t do much more than shake her head and wiggle her fingers and toes. Then, I realized my hips were digging into her hurt ribs right where I punched her. So, I continued to stretch her like a torture rack and kept punishing those ribs. I knew she was suffering and I was enjoying it. I brought my face right in front of hers and let her feel my breath when I said, ‘Submit to me bitch’. She still didn’t. Fine, I could wait. She wasn’t going anywhere. I just kept stretching and grinding her ribs. Her face looked like total misery. I just smirked at her when our eyes met. I knew it had to be demoralizing for her. I was taking away all of her will. Finally, the tears flowed. Her anguished voice choked out ‘Ok…ok..I submit…please…stop.’ I relaxed the hold but I stayed on top of her keeping her trapped underneath me.”
“Her submission triggered this incredible rush in me. Although I won, I didn’t want to give up control of my victim, so I just lay there on top of her, feeling her limp body beneath mine. She was so defeated and battered, she didn’t squirm or even try to get away from me. Then it really hit me. Tiny little me just took down a bigger blonde. And here, surrounded by the sky, the water, and earth, it’s just the two of us. Me and my kill. I didn’t want this moment to end. Mind if I ask you something? Just between us girls?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever win a fight, then stand over your defeated opponent and feel like the sexiest thing in the world?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I answer.
“Well, I got this woman on her back, on the lake shore. She’s mine. Then, I felt this warm rush over my body. My nipples were practically popping off my chest. I got this tingling down below. I wanted to make sure she knew who owned her. I deliberately pressed my chest onto hers. I’m first to admit I’m pretty flat-chested but I let my long hard nipples press into her deflated ones, declaring their superiority. I grabbed her jaw and squeezed it forcing her to face me while making her mouth pucker. ‘Stupid blonde twat.... you thought you could compete with ME?’ How dared this bitch walk into my office wearing a cat pin. I just lay there a few more minutes, prolonging her agony as she winced in pain with each breath under my weight.”
“Finally, I realized I couldn’t stay there forever. I pushed myself up and slid into a schoolgirl mount. But…I still couldn’t bring myself to get off of her. I’m not ready to stop basking in the moment. I just sat on her and stared at her wet and mud-tinged face and body. The tangled wet dirty hair. The anguished sobbing face. The sturdy shoulders. The muscular arms. The dispirited tits. All mine. I’m not a lesbian but I think I wanted to hump her right there.” Grace giggled.
“As much as I didn’t want to, I got off of her and stood up. She’s just lying there, all beat up at my feet. The winner stood upright while the conquered lay on the ground. And you know, I still couldn’t stop staring at her. Maybe it’s how a fisherman feels after landing a big tuna. But, I had work to do so it was time to get rid of this loser. ‘Get up, bitch,’ I snapped, grabbing her hair and dragging her towards the dock. ‘Grab your shit, loser...’” I watched her fall to her hands and knees as I slung her to her boots and jacket she wore when she came here. Next, I grabbed my heels with one hand and Blondie’s hair with the other, dragged her into a gravel parking lot, bare feet and all, then shoved her down next to her Jeep. ‘Get your weak ass out of here, slut’ I ordered. I watched her crawl to the driver’s side door, again on her hands and knees. I looked at her ass covered with wet and muddy blue jeans. I decided to give Blondie one last parting message. I reared back my leg and with my bare foot, gave her a good kick in the ass. I stood there as she fumbled with her car keys, slipped through the door, started the engine and high tailed it out of here.”
“I had the whole thing caught on camera. I went home and watched it at least ten times. It’s on the catfight website. I called my boyfriend. We watched it together several more times. You can imagine how we spent the rest of the night.”
Interesting story, I’m thinking. Grace seems a bit sadistic. I wonder if she exaggerated.
“Did you find out anything more about the blonde?” I ask.
“No, I never saw her again and we didn’t give her the contract.”
“Well, maybe she learned her lesson,” I suggested. “She foolishly wore a cat pin while on business, she couldn’t take a body punch, her size advantage didn’t matter, she didn’t do much except pussy attack. Some people just aren’t cut out for fighting….I’m curious though…did you get her name?”
“Yes,” Grace answered…”Her name is Kelli,…she goes by…FyreCracka.”
“Huh?”…My jaw drops and eyes widen. “Kelli?…FyreCracka?” No, I’m thinking. This can’t be. Grace is lying. Yes, that’s it. She made this whole story up. No way would Kelli lose a one sided fight to this little twerp. Grace must have noticed my facial reaction.
“Do you know her?” she asks.
Ok. Now what? My mind is racing. Do I call her on her bullshit? Should I show her my cat pin and take her on right now? Should I tell Kelli about this? Alright, I’ve decided. I’m gonna kick her ass right now. This little liar needs a reality check. Where’s my cat pin? It’s in my handbag. I’m getting it out. I feel it. Got it!….No, I can’t. Not right now. I’m here to buy a lake house. I can’t get on her bad side. Shit!
“Kiva, do you know Kelli?” she repeats.
“Uh…No….I was thinking about …someone else.”
“Well ok then, thanks for your interest in purchasing one of our properties…and thank you for listening to my little story. If you can send me the last of the documents, I expect your application will go through smoothly. After the final approval, I’ll call you to set up a closing date…Kiva, did you hear what I said? You and I will talk to arrange a closing date.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, “You and I…will have a closing date.
-
Don't mean to sound heartless but you're getting a divorce, Kiva. You and Tom won't be needing that house now, and I feel you owe it not just to Kelli but to the whole board to take this little twerp apart. Or, better still, take Tom for every penny he's got in the divorce settlement and buy the property, but make her fight for her commission (double or quits).
And after you've beaten her (because you are going to beat her, aren't you?), I thought it would be kind-of fun if you were to leave her tied to one of the posts of the landing stage, half in, half out, of the water – bare-chested, naturally – and shivering.
Oh, and since you'll probably be soaking wet, bare-chested and shivering yourself by that stage, there's one last thing you could do to warm yourselves up while you have her tied up like that …
("I'm not a lesbian either, sucker, but you're right: staring into the eyes of a woman you've just defeated – especially when she's a sadistic, cocky little bitch like you – really is the sexiest thing in the world.")
-
I definitely want the lake house in any divorce settlement. And my cat and dog. And…oh yeah…my daughter. I thought about fighting Grace on a floating dock in the middle of the lake (see pic) or on a large pontoon boat. Actually, I think Kelli should get a rematch. Grace is the least deserving to own a win over Kelli. Total travesty!
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I thought about fighting Grace on a floating dock in the middle of the lake (see pic)
Bikinis on a floating dock in the middle of the lake works for me.
Oh, and I'm a seeing a role now for the alligator.
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What I find annoying is that the little nitwit doesn't seem to realise Kelli was injured going into their fight. I hope you'll tell her that right before you two fight. That'll knock her sideways before you've even raised your fists.
Oh, and Kelli: next time you lose a fight (should that sad day ever arrive) or even win a gruelling one, why not hand your catpin to Kiva for safekeeping for a few weeks and let her check you over before she gives it you back? I worry about you.
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Great concept K & K! And great work. Outstanding writing and storytelling as usual. As someone who loves the longer "extended" cut movies with all of the extra details added, I love this. Getting to know the other characters and the world better (especially a world as great as the Cat Pin world) is a really great. Oh, and single Kiva?- Call me! (Just kidding- maybe) :)
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She continues to keep an eye on us as she finishes hosing the mud from her body. Mother keeps us all down in the steamy mud until we are sure she is gone. It's utterly humiliating. We owe that woman an ass kicking. It will happen. The only question is which of us will be the lucky woman that gets to do it.
Here's hoping both sisters and the grand daughter get a chance to throw down with the blonde.
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She continues to keep an eye on us as she finishes hosing the mud from her body. Mother keeps us all down in the steamy mud until we are sure she is gone. It's utterly humiliating. We owe that woman an ass kicking. It will happen. The only question is which of us will be the lucky woman that gets to do it.
Here's hoping both sisters and the grand daughter get a chance to throw down with the blonde.
Delighted to inform you that you've missed one of the greatest catfight stories ever:
Fyre's Fight Journal, Chapter 35: A Kitty Kissin' Catbrawl...Part 1
https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.180
But she hasn't fought Uma yet, and the first thing I'm going to say to St Peter if he beckons me inside the Pearly Gates any time soon is: "Send me back! She hasn't fought Uma yet."
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The Catpin Chronicles, Chapter 4: A Family Affair
As told by Jaymie Hall
Background and relevant information:
Jaymie is my sister in law and Jake's step sister. Before their parents married they had a brief relationship. I think you will figure out that we don't like each other.
You can read the original story FFJ, Chapter 24 here:
https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.90 (https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.90)
Oh this is just too good. Little Kelli has a 'Catpin' I think to myself as I see it attached to one of her bags in her room. Just when I thought this was going to be another boring trip to the farm. Looks like I'll finally get to put this irritating bitch in her place. I've secretly wanted this for years. The little blonde is like a gnat with her act. She's always pretending to be so chipper and nice. Now, I know she has the dark side that I've always suspected.
My sister in law has always annoyed the shit out of me which is more than reason enough for me to kick some bitch's ass but it's going to be even sweeter to destroy the woman of the man who punched my 'V Card'. I found Jake nearly as insufferable as his wife but he was a damn good lay, I probably keep him around longer just for that. Even though I wasn't going to keep him, it was still awkward when my mom and his dad started dating and it caused that asshole to dump me first. My mother's just lucky I haven't kicked her ass just for that. I'm the one that does the dumping.
One of the items on my catfight bucket list is to prove to the men that I've been with that I'm the superior woman..the alpha. I'm sure the all not that I am. Valedictorian, all district in two sports, homecoming and prom royalty. I've always been bigger, stronger, more athletic and more intelligent than any of the weak bitches they had before or after me. They only get to have my scraps because I let them.
I hear Kelli coming down the hallway. I block her way by stretching my arm until it's against the wall. Making sure to tower over her with my significant height advantage. I ask "Having a good time, Kelli?"
The blonde bitch, flashes that plastic smile of hers before answering "Sure, I always do when I visit the farm." Fake ass twat. I pivot around, trapping her between my arms and against the wall like a high school bully.
I can no longer hide my disdain for this dumb slut. "Look, I'll cut to the chase..I saw the 'pin' in your room...I have one as well...consider yourself challenged. Follow me. We'll take the 'gator down to the far end of the pasture...Allie will meet us there in the truck, be the witness and film it". I say in a hushed growl. I wonder if she even has enough guts to accept my challenge.
With that I stride towards the barn. I'm somewhat surprised that Kelli is following me silently. She has a determined look on her face. Dumb bitch probably has no idea what she's in for. We take the UTV out into the pasture. Neither of us say a word along the way. Several minutes later I find the clearing in the woods where I have settled more than a few issues with other lesser bitches before. Allie, having been on the receiving end of my wrath here a couple of times, knows her role and is already there waiting on us when we arrive. She asks what type of match we want.
Ready to put the little blonde in her place and make this as much of a real fight as possible, I answer "Domination rules...we'll fight until she surrenders".
Allie looks at Kelli, "You good with that?" Allie needs to wipe that concerned look off of her face. If she scares off Kelli before I get to hurt her, I'll make sure she gets one instead.
"Sure...sounds good to me" Kelli answers with confidence as she begins loosening up her shoulders. I'm amused and insulted that this bitch thinks she actually has a chance, but I've always suspected that she's a dim bulb.
I pull off my coat, shirt and shoes, leaving me in just my black leggings and a sports bra. The winter air still feels cool to me, but the sun is warm and feels good on my skin. I can see Kelli taking stock of me. Get a good look at what a real woman looks like buttercup.
Kelli strips down to her jeans and a white tank top. The dumbass isn't even wearing a bra, not that she really needs one with those pathetic excuses for tits. I make a note of it that I need to make her pay for that mistake. Allie and my sister in law put her stuff into Allie's truck. I can tell Allie is saying something to her but I can't make it out...I guess I'll need to remind her where her loyalties lie, and it has been a couple of years since I've kicked her ass anyway.
At 5'9" and 155 pounds, I'm quite a bit bigger than the scrawny cxnt in front of me. If I had to guess, I'd say she's around 5'5", 130 pounds or so. This isn't really a fair fight but this bitch needs to know her place and fair has nothing to do with it.
We take our places, standing about 10 feet apart, both of us are grinding our bare feet into the cold earth. Allie sets up the camera, then walks between Kelli and I. "Kelli are you ready?" Kelli nods. "Jaymie...are you ready?" Allie asks. Without taking my eyes of my prey, I snap "yes...start this thing". Allie backs out of the way before giving the "fight!" command.
I waste no time and rush the smaller woman, flinging punches as soon as she is in range. This little skank is quick, she dodges most of my them, but I still land a few. She is a decent fighter and covers up pretty well, but I've got her on the defensive. Finally, I land a hard combo to the younger woman's ribs. She goes reeling backwards landing on her back in the mud, next to the creek. I move in to punish my dumbass sister in law. She might have lasted longer than I thought she would but now her ass is mine.
Kelli manages to get a knee in between us as I move in and is able to keep me from mounting her. She pushes me backwards and then sends a heel into right into my gut, briefly knocking the breath from my lungs. I take a couple of steps back and regain my composure. Looks like little Kelli has a little fight in her. I motion her to get on her feet. "Alright bitch, you want to do this the hard way..." I sneer.
Fuck this bitch is fast and she gets to her feet quickly. Her tank top, wet from the damp ground, clings to her skin. Again, we are standing in front of each other. This time we both start circling each other. This time she charges me, sinking both hands deep into my light brown hair and begins yanking my hair. I reciprocate and we sling each other around the field. Both of us shrieking and moaning as we try to put the other woman on the ground. I'm almost impressed with Kelli at this point, she's tough and strong for her size, but I know I'm stronger...I'm better...I'm the alpha in this family. We slosh through the creek and the mud splashes our feet and pants.
Finally, my strength begins to wear the smaller woman down. I begin driving her backwards, towards an old oak tree. I slam my white trash sister in law's back into the tree several times. The sound of her groans with each impact are music to my ears. Finally, I slam my knee deep into her belly. Kelli's eyes bulge from the impact and I hear the air leave her body. She is bleary eyed and is only standing because I'm holding her against the tree. That did it, she's hurt. This bitch is mine, I think to myself as I look into her dazed and watering eyes.
With a fury I unload punch after punch into the dumb bitch's stomach. She tries to squirm away or push me off of her, but I'm too much for her. Soon her arms hanging by her sides uselessly as I teach her this lesson. I wish I could see how red her belly is getting from this punishment. Even though it's chilly out here, I feel sweat starting to run down my brow as I get a nice sheen of perspiration from the beating I'm giving out. Won't be long now, slut, I think as I continue to pound the gut of my gasping opponent.
Just then, Kelli comes to life. One of her hands gets around my throat while the other goes back into my hair. Fucking bitch needs to learn when she's beaten. The pain in my neck and scalp is pretty bad, but I can't let her get any momentum. Unable to punch effectively, I unleash my claws into her breasts causing her to scream in pain. I keep pushing and slamming her back into the bark of the tree as well. I feel the weakling's grip starting to fade. Oh, you're done now, aren't you, whore?
I can almost feel the fight leaving her body, but those deep brown eyes are still glaring defiantly into my green ones. As her hands finally release my hair and throat to try and pull my claws from her little tits, I feel her try to throw a knee to my pussy.
I barely feel her desperate attack as it harmlessly smacks my inner thigh. Her attempt at a dirty move enrages me. "Dumb move, skank" I shriek in anger. I grab the blonde's hair and push her head into the tree causing her to squirm as her skull is mashed against the oak. Holding her there opens up a perfect opportunity for me to send a hard knee back into her belly. I feel it sink into her as she is defenseless now. I follow it up another...and another. Each one causing the younger woman to whimper and moan. This bitch is finished.
I release the inferior woman's head from my crushing viselike move with the tree. Kelli limply falls to the damp ground. I maintain my grip on her ratty yellow hair as she lays there moaning and gasping for air, not even fighting back. It's time to make sure she remembers who is top bitch here. I let go of her hair and get two handfuls of her tank top. Violently, I sling Kelli around the battlefield like a rag doll until her shirt gives up with a loud rip, sending her weak ass to the ground with a thud.
I look at my prey as she writhes on the ground topless. There are deep scratches all over her back and when she manages roll onto her back, I can see the deep gouges that left on those pathetic excuses for tits she has. I can't keep from laughing at her as she slips and trips her way to her feet like a common drunk. This bitch is too fucking stupid to just take the loss.
"You really aren't too bright are you, Kelli? You should have stayed down" I crack my knuckles before I move in to finish this little slut. "I like it when a bitch has some fight in her...lets see how much you can take, shall we?" I snap at her, I'm sure my voice isn't hiding my enjoyment of her misery.
With her top ripped off, jeans ripped, red scratches all over her back and chest, mud smeared all over, her bare chest and belly showing all of the red splotches from my assault, her hair disheveled, and her cute face all scratched up from the tree, I know I'm going to have to come up with quite a story to cover this up....at least to the rest of the family, I want Jake to know I'm a better woman than his wife. Other than a sheen of sweat, a little mud on my knees, I'm pretty much unscathed...about how I figured it would go.
I can feel my smirk as I move towards this wrecked blonde with her hands in a sloppy boxing stance. I can't believe she still thinks she can beat me. I close the distance and get ready to finish her when a jab from Kelli snaps my head back. You bitch! I think to myself. Then a hook lands on my ribs and another. Shit, this girl can punch. Time to put her down. I throw some big haymakers, looking to knock this slut out but she dodges them. My sister in law lands more and more body blows punishing me for every punch I fail to land. Damn, the body blows are starting to make it hard to breathe.
The trashy blonde starts to get some confidence as she continues to out box me, I need to do something to turn this around. I guess she sees this and taunts between her pants. "What's the matter, Jaymie?.....it's been ...a while ... since you've .... had someone ... shut... you up.... hun?"
Frustrated and with my ribs hurting I shout back "Alright bitch... playtime's... over..". I charge Kelli, trying to wrap her up and stop her nasty punches. She lands a few more before I tie her up in a clinch. I cling to her, getting my breath back and giving my body some relief. Next, I get my arms around her ribs into a bear hug. She wraps me up as well, but it's almost comical how weak she is at this point. I arch my back and pick the blonde up off her feet and slam her hard onto the ground. She is dazed by the impact and almost motionless as I climb onto her chest. The pathetic little twat is finished... for good this time.
Knowing she is beaten I want to look into her face and eyes to see that look of brokenness and defeat. I try to pin her arms to the grass but she keeps fighting. She reaches up and begins clawing at my back and bra, trying to use it to pull me off of her. I hear the stitches rip l as my sports bra rips. "You... bitch, you'll ....pay for that!" I snarl and slam her hands into the earth above her head with authority. Her back arches and those tiny tits point skyward as she strains. I give a little hop and make sure my ass is planted firmly on the weaker woman's chest. I can hear her wheeze and sputter as she fights to breathe.
As I feel Kelli's fading attempts to buck me off, a smile crosses my lips...this fight is over and she finally knows it. One at a time, I muscle her arms to her sides. She was too weak to stop me before, now it's child's play to pull them down and put my shins on top of them. I'm completely on top of her now in a schoolgirl pin. With my hands free, I reach up and remove the remnants of my bra, letting her get a good look at what a real woman's tits look like.
I take my destroyed bra and put it over mouth an nose. It's enjoyable watching her eyes widen in panic as tries to breathe. I do this a few times, until I feel legs quit moving and her body become still. I no longer see the defiance in her eyes, I have broken her. The bitch finally knows her place and has accepted it now.
Now to end this and make the win official. I pull her face into my superior womanhood. We lock eyes. "Awww Kelli, how's it feel?....knowing I'm... better... than you?" I say, secure in the knowledge that I have bested the woman beneath me.
I pull her face from my crotch to hear her surrender. "Fuck.... you.....Jaymie!" Kelli snaps back. What an insufferable little cxnt. She tries to escape again, attempting to buck and flail, but it's pathetic and weak, failing miserably. I don't even try to stifle my laughter at her and just pull her face back into my pussy. My body is tingling with the excitement of beating this woman and I'm sure she getting a good whiff of my essence. I feel her hand tapping out on my leg. Tapping out won't be good enough today, Kelli.
"What's... that...Kelli? Do you ... have ... something ... to say... little... weakling?" I ask her with contempt dripping from every word.
The little blonde gulps in air, but quickly cries out "You win... I give up..." as she fights back tears. I push off the beaten woman's body to get to my feet. She lets out a groan as I stomp my foot down on her chest claiming my territory, and making sure Allie gets a good view of the victory pose before I stomp down one more time to remind Kelli of my dominance.
I stand over the sprawled out body of my sister in law, glaring down at her "You're pathetic..." I spit out. I realize that I still haven't punished this bitch enough for her stupidity ...she actually thought she could fight me? How fucking stupid is the slut? She needs an education... one only I can provide and one that she won't ever forget. I drop back down on Kelli's chest pinning her back to the ground.
I begin the final lesson for this stupid woman and start slapping her face with a fury. I go into a rage screaming "fucking... dumbass... bitch... you...need...to learn... your.. place...stupid...slut...". I can't believe it, but the stupid bitch is still trying to fight back, throwing some pathetic punches from underneath me. I continue slapping the fuck out of her until her punches stop again. I only stop when I hear Allie yelling.
"Stop it Jaymie, you won....she quit... stop!" She's almost begging me to stop. Bitch is my sister, is a little loyalty too much to ask?
I hop up and snap at my younger sister "Shut up, Allie- or do you want me to beat your ass- again". The slender brunette regains her sanity and backs down. I turn my attention back to Kelli. She has managed to make it back to her hands and knees. Seriously? Just stay the fuck down, bitch.
I'm not done with her just yet. I march back towards her as she tries to crawl away. I take a couple of steps and deliver a hard soccer kick right towards her weak pussy. She is howling in pain, her face planted in the damp dirt as she tries to massage her aching private parts.
I can hear her whimpering, as I lean down to talk to her. "Poor baby, are you crying now?" I say mockingly. I walk around her, placing my foot on her hip. It doesn't take much effort at all to push her over and onto her back. I stare down at Kelli again, I think this is my masterpiece. I've totally beaten this woman. Pity it might have been fun to kick her ass again eventually, but I doubt she'll ever want a rematch- hell, she might never want to fight again.
"I guess you know how I have really felt about you for all of these years....I have to admit, it feels damn good to teach you this lesson." I say icily as I move towards the downed woman's head. In a quick motion hop back down to the ground locking her head between my thighs.
I start squeezing her head like a grape, she claws and scratches at my legs as I tighten the hold. She starts pathetically pleading with me to stop, her face turning various shades of red. "I told you I give.... stop.... please.... you win... God, please...stop... please... Jaymie... please.." I don't know why, maybe just me being territorial about my first lover or maybe I just really don't like this cxnt, but I don't let up and squeeze even harder. "Fuck you!" She yells out defiantly right before I see her go limp. Fucking stupid twat. She may actually be dumb enough that I have to do this to her again in the future.
I feel Allie grab my shoulders. "Don't worry, I'm done with that bitch...you can take care of your new....bestie, there" I say as I get to my feet. Allie kneels down and makes sure Kelli is going to be alright.
She looks up at me, her face a mix of fear and anger. "Jaymie, what in the hell is wrong with you?...she's family"
I glare back at my sister "not by blood, she isn't....she married our step brother. She barely qualifies... plus the bitch had it coming- and if you don't want to catch another beating, you'll stay out of my way in the future, little sister".
Allie is silent as I turn and walk away. I cover up with my shirt and hop back in the 'gator and drive back to the farmhouse. I see Jake by the barn.
He looks me over as I walk up to him. "You two fought didn't you?" he asks me.
The feeling of pride I is unrivaled by any of my other wins. I can see it in his face that he knows that I beat his wife. "Don't worry Jake.." I whisper into his ear. "She'll be ok...not sure what you see in that weak bitch". Even though I'm a faithful wife, I can't resist turning the knife a little more.
I run my hand up his leg.. damn, I almost forgot how big he was. "How's it feel knowing you married an inferior woman...at least you got to have a true alpha woman once in your life" I say in my most seductive voice as I give him one last squeeze before walking away.
I glance back to see him jogging out to the pasture. Whatever. Enjoy your weak ass wife. I do hope he tells her about me groping him. If she is as stupid as I think she is, that might get her to try again. Either way, there is no doubt who is the alpha female in this family.
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Can't wait for the day someone hands Jaymie her needings. The sound of her ego cracking is going to be s-o-o sweet! You put a brave fight, Kelli; she was just too big for you.
But, as they say in Mexico (and parts of the Sudan), the bigger they are …
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Great dialogue going on, had to really follow that action more closely than the actual fight itself.
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Your stories are great Kelli and this idea of rewriting them from the point of view of your opponents is very nice.
I'd like to read your graet fights with strong Miche here.
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Great series! Who’s the youngest cat pin wearers?
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Great series! Who’s the youngest cat pin wearers?
Unless FyreCracka corrects me, I believe that would be Destiny, a 19-year-old heavily tattooed streetwise stripper. She’s small but a proficient striker. She fought Kelli in a bare fisted boxing match behind a shopping mall (FFJ Ch 12). I fought her in a caged boxing match (KFJ Ch 7). A shorter edited version, Kiva vs Destiny is on the second page of the boxing section. These can be read as stand alone stories. Reading the series from the beginning is not required.
I noticed your profile says you’re a CNA and a nursing student. You may be interested in checking out my profile and knowing that my stories often feature hospital scenes and healthcare workers as characters, some of it inspired by my real life.
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Thank you Kiva! I think we need few more and someone needs to beat that strippers ass!
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Great series! Who’s the youngest cat pin wearers?
Unless FyreCracka corrects me, I believe that would be Destiny, a 19-year-old heavily tattooed streetwise stripper. She’s small but a proficient striker. She fought Kelli in a bare fisted boxing match behind a shopping mall (FFJ Ch 12). I fought her in a caged boxing match (KFJ Ch 7). A shorter edited version, Kiva vs Destiny is on the second page of the boxing section. These can be read as stand alone stories. Reading the series from the beginning is not required.
I noticed your profile says you’re a CNA and a nursing student. You may be interested in checking out my profile and knowing that my stories often feature hospital scenes and healthcare workers as characters, some of it inspired by my real life.
Exactly true. There are several Catpin wearers in the 19 year old range. There's Destiny and her whole crew as well as the youngest of the Doshi clan, Advika. And those are just the ones that are willing to battle us "mom" aged women. :)
While not technically in the Catpin universe, I would also suggest Kiva's "Nurses Eat Their Young" story to anyone in or interested in that field. It is fantastic!
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Wonderful series of stories
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I love this bit:
We lock eyes. "Awww Kelli, how's it feel?....knowing I'm... better... than you?" I say, secure in the knowledge that I have bested the woman beneath me. I pull her face from my crotch to hear her surrender. "Fuck.... you.....Jaymie!" Kelli snaps back.
Reminds me of the Battle of Waterloo when the French (who'd been within minutes of victory until the Prussians showed up in the nick of time) found themselves surrounded by the Coalition (Scots, English, Dutch, Hanoverian, Prussian …) troops, with all the heavy artillery trained on them.
"Brave Frenchmen, surrender!" shouted an English general (some say it was Colville, others Maitland).
"Merde!" replied Cambronne.
Which is, basically, Fuck you, Jaymie! in French :o
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Catpin Chronicles, Chapter 5: Retribution and Resolve
As told by Mike Graham (Kelli's ex husband)
You can read the original story FFJ, Chapter 27 here:
https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.105 (https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.105)
"It's in the eyes
I can tell, you'll always be danger
We had it tonight
Why do you always seek absolution?
It's in the eyes
I can tell you'll always be danger"
? Mumford and Sons, from 'Snake Eyes'
"What got into you, baby?" I ask Lily as she lays panting with her head resting on my chest after an unusually explosive sexual romp. Usually, these are reserved for after she has imposed her will on some poor woman in a fight. I can't believe how turned on I get watching her put it all on the line. I know that both of us should be above such a base and primitive hobby- we are both successful lawyers, after all. I suppose it's just something hard wired in both of us.
I also know that she hasn't had a fight today because we've been together all day. Something must be up. "That was incredible..."
Her dark almond shaped eyes flicker with excitement and even more seductive than usual. "I've been waiting for right time to tell you.... Billy offered me a number one contender's match today!"
For most of the last few years my wife has been content to fight other wives in arranged matches or similar women in chance 'Catpin' encounters. But, since Billy started up the "Housewives Division" at his fight club, she has been hell bent on winning the championship.
My pretty Asian wife has always been extremely driven and competitive- hell, it's part of the reason I've always found her so attractive. She also has an obsession with being the toughest, best fighting wife around. She doesn't seem to care about fighting professionally or anything similar but her passion is conquering an equal and proving herself the 'Alpha' in front of the husbands.
With a whole division dedicated to that passion, it's unsurprising that she has been dominant in Billy's cage. As much as I worry about the mother of my children getting injured, I have to admit the upside is totally worth it. What's more is that she is good at it and it has lit a fire in her that has spread to all aspects of her life.
"That's great!.... One more win and you'll get your title shot, right?" I say making more small talk about our mutual hobby.
"Exactly.... But it's more than that... Guess who my opponent will be... well, if she doesn't chicken out?" She says almost electrically. I haven't seen her this excited in years. Plus this implies that it's someone that I'll recognize. That is getting me nearly as excited as her.
"I have no idea.... please tell me, Lil....I gotta know" I respond. My mind racing through all of the possible friends and coworkers that could possibly be in to this.
"You're not going to believe me...... it's Kelli!" She says proudly saying the name of my ex with a contempt that is reserved solely for that woman.
My jaw hits the floor. For as many times as I had fantasized about them fighting, nothing could prepare me for actually hearing that they are going to fight. It wasn't just me fantasizing about it. Lily blamed Kelli for a lot of things. Most importantly was that Kelli married me in the first place when it wasn't what she wanted. Lily has probably wanted a shot at Kelli since we met.
Lily and I had an instant chemistry when we met as first year law school students, but I was already dating Kelli at the time. Kelli was exactly what I thought I was looking for, what everyone expected me to be with- a good girl, goal oriented, driven... and traditionally pretty. She had worked her way into college from working class roots. She was feisty, and fiery. Plus, she looked great on my arm. Athletic and blonde with a beautiful face. My mother was just giddy thinking about what our kids would look like. We looked the part of the perfect all American couple.
Lily on the other hand was what I really wanted deep down. Sure, most wouldn't think she was as pretty as Kelli, but I found her to be sultry and exotic. She was definitely still very sexy. The Thai immigrant rivaled me intellectually and had a razor sharp wit. We quickly, but quietly became best friends while in law school. We just "clicked" in a way that Kelli and I never did. I knew she was into me and it took every bit of decency I had to stay faithful to Kelli but I did.
The other thing that Lily could never forgive Kelli for was for what she did to me. With Kelli and my relationship consisting primarily of each of us trying to do what everyone expected of us, it was probably inevitable that one of us would stray. Kelli was the first to do it. Evidently she had run into an old boyfriend or something, a guy named Jake. They began fucking behind my back. I figured it out pretty quickly. That girl was voracious in the bedroom and all of a sudden, she didn't need it from me all the time.
I was already a little self conscious of barely being able to keep up with her sexual appetite. So, when it changed, I noticed. Those two tried to keep it a secret but when their idea "quickie" was an hour, it wasn't hard to catch them. I never let her know that I knew about him. It took me a while to even accept that we were finished and the only person I confided in was Lily. I probably shit talked Kelli more than I should have but I was betrayed and hurt. The end result was that Lily really, I mean really, hated Kelli.
Lily tried to talk me into "getting even" by sleeping with her but I wasn't raised that way. At least, until Kelli filed for divorce. While Lily and I "clicked" in the sack as well, Kelli's betrayal had messed up my head enough that it caused me to take things slower than the very impatient Lily wanted.
Even though everything was so messy and dramatic, I can't really complain. Lily and I have been together and happy since. I rarely think about my first wife anymore except for the occasional fantasizing of her and Lily fighting it out. A fantasy that appears to be about to manifest soon.
I finally stop sputtering and stammering long enough to ask "Are you seriously?"
"Completely... I'm going to wreck that bitch like I should of done years ago!" My wife kisses me deeply before she reaches beneath the sheets and finds that I'm ready for another round after hearing the news. She flashes me a devious look and we make love again.
During the rest of the week Lily is as focused as I've ever seen her as she trains for what she has termed "The Reckoning".
I'm glad that she is focused, because I am not. I haven't seen Kelli in over a decade and I don't know what kind of shape she is in. She was a good athlete in high school and kept it up pretty well while we were together. As her and Lily are fighting in a number one contender's match, I think it's safe to assume Kelli won't be a pushover and will also be ready.
When the night of "The Reckoning" arrives, I make sure to wear Lily's favorite of my suits. She even dresses up even though she will be fighting in a bikini later. We want everyone to know that we are a power couple in this world as well as in our regular lives. The whole scene is exciting beyond anything I've ever experienced. We get to Billy's early enough to get a booth to watch the action beforehand. Lily says that seeing other women fight gets her ready and unleashes her inner warrior. I love watching women fight in bikinis already. So, who am I to argue?
"There the bitch is!" I hear Lily growl as she not so subtly points out Kelli as she walks in. She doesn't see us as she headed to the back and the dressing rooms without saying so much as a word to anyone in the crowd. I see she is still with Jake. I guess it worked out for everyone. I'm kind of relieved she is still with him. Makes me think that it wasn't me, that they actually were meant for one another.
I can't deny that she still looks great. Slender and fit. She looked confident and comfortable in her blue jeans and t-shirt. She never did seem at ease in the designer brands that I bought her for our numerous excursions into the city's finer establishments. She was always appreciative of the gifts, but you could tell she would rather have been dressed like she is tonight.
"I'm going to hurt her so bad for you, Mike. That slut will be begging for mercy... I've waited so long for this.... I'm going to give her what she deserves." Lily's voice is calm and focused but I can feel the hatred seething just beneath the surface.
"I have no doubt that you will, baby... I can't wait to see you do it." I say smiling back. I can feel it. Lily is going to win. She is strong, focused and very good at this. What's more she- no, WE deserve to win tonight. There's no way Kelli will want this more than her.
Lily and I enjoy watching a couple more fights before she retires to the back to get ready for the fight. I'm excited to see what she'll be wearing tonight. She always keeps her outfit a secret until revealing it during the introduction. It's become one of my favorite elements of these nights. Almost up there with her "trophy case" where she keeps her conquered foes' captured bikinis. It will be interesting having something of Kelli's in our house, but I don't think I'll mind under the circumstances.
The lights dim briefly and a spotlight swings to one corner of the neon lit and smoke filled club as rock music begins to blare over the speakers. I see the once familiar slender silhouette of my ex wife as she steps into the bright light.
Kelli looks confident as she bounces down the aisle towards the cage in a camouflage bikini. Her long, golden hair tied in a tight ponytail. She is all smiles and plays to the crowd along the way. With her body covered in a sheen of oil, I can't help but to notice her lean and fit body. I'm relieved that Lily isn't here at the moment, as my mind wanders back in time looking at her still beautiful face. Despite her smiles, her brown eyes tell a different story. They have the look of what I imagine an assassin's would look like. There's no mistaking it, Kelli is dangerous.
Fortunately, reality snaps me out of my trip down memory lane when she stops to plant a kiss on Jake's lips before climbing into the cage. A kiss that reminds me of what those two did to me all those years ago. Any rose colored glasses are smashed. Oddly enough, I don't really care about Lily "avenging" me or whatever that means, but more than anything, I want her to get the vengeance that she has lusted over for all of these years.
As Kelli is warming up in the cage I notice the referee for tonight's contest enter the ring. Usually Billy's referees are mostly there as eye candy, but tonight the woman wearing the tight, cropped black and white striped shirt and boy shorts is an absolute Amazon. The woman is probably closer to my size than Kelli or Lily. Standing close to 6 feet tall and she probably weighs close to 200 pounds of mostly muscle. I watch while the sexy black giantess does the customary prefight pat down on Kelli. From his selection of the ref, Billy must think these two are going to be a handful tonight. I'm inclined to agree.
I hear some generic Far East music begin and my whips around to the opposite end of the club in time to see my wife step into the spot light and hear the music transition into hip hop. Lily is wearing a revealing, metallic silver bikini. It's much sexier than Kelli's camo one and she is definitely garnering the lion's share of the applause as she struts to the cage with sexily angry cadence.
There's no way to ignore the contrasts between the two sexy, yet very different women. Lily's deep golden brown skin from her Thai roots makes even the tan Kelli look fairly pale. My wife is just a bit shorter then my ex, but they are built completely different. She is more compact, her legs thicker and more muscular. Her jet black hair is tight in a similarly tight ponytail that hangs nearly to her thick, round ass.
Then, there's the most obvious difference. Lily's much larger tits. I know Kelli was always self conscious of her smaller chest. I made the mistake of offering to pay for an enlargement. Good Lord, I thought she would never forgive me. Fortunately, that awkward issue never had to be broached with Lily's majestically massive mammories. Even watching them bounce down the aisle covered in the silver material doesn't do them justice. They are magnificent. I bet Lily's tits will enrage Kelli. She always hated women more endowed then her, it's one of her "buttons".
After Lily climbs into the cage, the black Amazon gives her the same customary pat down that Kelli recieved as Billy enters the cage. The big bald man begins to do his introductions in his best carnie barker voice.
"Welcome to this battle between the Wild West and the Far East...Introducing first... standing 5 foot five... and one half inches tall, weighing in at a mean 130 pounds of Texas temptation.... Kelli... the Fyrecracka.... Rose." Kelli plays to the crowd and receives a strong response of applause and catcalls. Why wouldn't she? It's impossible to deny that my ex wife is traditionally very beautiful.
The bar owner continues. "And her opponent... in this battle for a shot at the champion of our prestigious Housewives Division... she's 5 foot 4 inches tall and, also, 130 pounds... Lethal.. Lily... Graham!" Lethal Lily, I like that. The shorter Thai woman throws a series of punches and kicks through the air. No doubt she is trying to intimidate the blonde and impress the rowdy spectators. My equally stunning wife is rewarded with an equally loud response. The look on Kelli's face is annoyed and unimpressed.
Also, I'm starting to come to the conclusion that she hasn't realized who Lily is yet. Which makes sense since I never introduced the two women before. I figured there was no need to bring the fact that my best friend and the person I vented about my wife to was a drop dead gorgeous woman who was clearly interested in me. Who would want to invite that kind of drama into their marriage?
As Billy goes over the rules and continues to hype the crowd the two women are locked in an intense stare down. I've never seen Lily so focused and white hot with rage. Kelli looks like she is all business and is refusing to be intimidated... all while they are in bikinis. I can almost see the two evaluating each other's bodies. Comparing themselves against the other woman and looking for weaknesses. Lord help me, this has to be the sexiest thing I have ever witnessed.
The referee motions both women to meet her in the center of the cage. Neither one breaks her glare as they strut towards each other until they are chest to chest. I'm so hard that it hurts as I see them begin to trash talk. What I wouldn't give to be able to hear it. I see Kelli's head break the stare down for the first time and she looks directly at me. Her eyes go wide. In this moment my ex wife becomes aware of just who she's about to fight. Lily makes sure to seize the opportunity to use her bigger chest to move Kelli back a step. Kelli definitely wasn't prepared for that little revelation. She looks shocked and speechless, but Lily, clearly isn't. The shorter woman is giving her hated rival a tongue lashing that is punctuated with a big chest bump at the end. The crowd erupts and Kelli begins to press back until the Amazon of a referee forcefully separates the two, then, calls for the starting bell.
The bell hasn't even finished ringing when Lily lets out a shriek as she charges towards the blonde. Her shoulder slams into my ex wife's chest, driving her backwards until she smashes into the chain link fencing. My beautiful Thai dynamo is unleashing a torrent of punches to the leaner woman's belly, punctuating each strike with either "bitch" or "cxnt".
Any thoughts of Lily completely overwhelming Kelli with her initial barrage evaporates when the blonde focuses and is able to get her back off of the cage. Kelli yanks Lily's ponytail and is able to force a classic "bitch clench". The two exchange blows for a few seconds. My wife is fighting with a rage that I have never seen before. Whereas Kelli is more calm and collected.
The more calculating woman executes a trip and initially lands on top, but Lily will not be denied her vengeance. A moment later the two are rolling around the cage in a furious catball. The giantess of a referee is doing her best to simply stay out of the way as the two woman are nearly ripping each other apart. Kelli's top is ripped clean off. Lily's is pulled off, leaving her heaving tits uncovered. It's like nothing I've ever seen before. The clawing, the cursing, the hatred- its intensity on a different level. When they fury finally stabilizes, it is my wife who is laying on top of her rival. Her larger golden breasts pinning her hated rival's as the referee begins counting the pin.
I can see Lily hissing something into Kelli's ears as they struggle but the crowd is roaring and I can barely even hear the Amazon counting the multiple attempts at a pin. The blonde is not quite able to escape but my wife can never keep her down for more than a three count. A far cry from the required ten count.
I'm amazed at how cool and collected Kelli remains as she methodically keeps escaping the pin attempts even as Lily is clearly in control. I remember her being much more fiery. It's a little unnerving how calculating the blonde assassin is. She expertly snakes her leg around one of my wife's, effectively trapping it before flipping positions.
Then, the cool, calm Kelli disappears when she lets out a primal screech as she dives claws first into Lily's gloriously superior tits. My wife bucks wildly from the attack until she is able to send her golden haired tormentor rolling across the cage- taking the Asian woman's bikini top with her.
The two rivals are back to standing in a flash and stalking each other around the cage as their chests heave with every breath and bounce with every step as they move around the cage.
"Sounds like ... he preferred... getting a little... of what I had... to having everything you had to offer..."Kelli taunts loud enough that I can hear.
"Fuck.. you.. trailer ... trash... he was ... too loyal ... and you... didn't deserve him..." My wife counters, snarling at the hated blonde woman. I can't imagine the venom and vitriol these two have been spewing to each other when I couldn't hear them. They take a couple of more steps, then lunge at each other, locking up in the middle of the cage.
They dance around the cage. The light shimmers off of their oiled and sweaty skin. Accentuating every twitch, flex or jiggle of their bodies as they strain against one another in a stalemate. Neither able to outmuscle the other.
Kelli breaks the stalemate by stomping on Lily's foot. My wife wails in pain but that is cut off as the blonde's knee sinks into her belly, doubling her over. My ex growls as she latches on to the Thai woman's jet black hair, slinging her violently around the cage and eventually on to the canvas.
Lily tries to scurry away in an act of self preservation but the blonde still has her hair in a death grip. Kelli yanks my wife back on to her ass with a thud, snarling "Get your... cheap... mail... order... ass back here!" I wince as my ex pounces on my wife cinching into a tight headlock and flattening the bronze skinned woman onto her belly.
Lily is clawing at Kelli's forearm as the, now completely in control, blonde uses it to crank her chin upwards painfully. My poor bride's eyes are closed and her teeth clenched as she tries to fight through the pain. "Say.. it.. bitch!" Kelli commands harshly. I doubt Lily can even answer but I know she will never give her most hated rival the satisfaction of a verbal submission.
For the first time in this fight, I begin to really worry about Lily. Kelli has her now. She is slowly and methodically working the neck hold. The dark haired woman is fighting it with everything she has but keeps surrendering precious millimeters until she is stretched to her limit. She releases one hand and reaches out across the mat. I hate to see it but I am relieved to see that my wife is going to tap out. While I'm sure it will take some time for us to get past, it's best this ends before anyone gets injured. I can't even imagine how it would be if Kelli were to hurt Lily permanently.
Just as I am sure her next motion will be to tap the canvas, Lily reaches back and rakes her nails across Kelli's face. The blonde screams and recoils across the floor of the cage. She fumbles around for a few moments, clearly blinded by my wife's dirty tactic.
Lily manages to sit up and recover against the cage, rubbing her neck but unable to follow up with any more offense. Kelli finally gets to her hands and knees. "Fucking... bitch!" She growls as the first thing she sees as the world comes back into focus is Lily. Who is giving her a similar glare. The two women begin to climb the fence to get back to their feet, never breaking eye contact.
Lily is still massaging her neck as she steadies herself. "Mail order... bride?... I moved here... when I was... ten, you... ignorant... cxnt!" Lily rages, her voice growing with very word as she pushes off the fence and begins to stagger towards Kelli who is moving just as slowly to meet her.
The crowd's buzz is building to a roar. I doubt any of them know why these two are going at it with such intensity, but they definitely appreciate it and they want more. Lily and Kelli give it to them, the clash in the center of the cage again. Each of the woman getting knuckles deep in the other's hair. The yank and tug, trying to hurt and control the other woman. Their hands blindly reach for the other's face as they push against each other's chins and necks..
Lily finally latches on to my ex wife's jaw, digging her nails into the woman's face as she pushes her chin skyward, earning her a painful groan from the taller woman.
The Asian woman has her foe off balance and with one more rough yank, the blonde goes to the ground. Lily has been a natural wrestler since she has taken up this little hobby and now she's the calm one. She methodically out wrestles and traps Kelli on her back, working herself into a textbook schoolgirl pin.
The blonde looks worn out as Lily plants the back of her hands to the canvas next to her ears. The Amazon begins the count when my exhausted ex's shoulders finally sink to the mat. "One!..... Two!..... Three!..." the big woman yells every time she slaps the ground.
My heart begins to flutter. "...Four!..." I have never really let myself get to caught up in the revenge that has been motivating Lily so much, but now I let it creep in as I watch the contrasting women. "Five!..."Lily looks so strong and dominant while Kelli looks defeated and beaten. "...Six!" Just then Kelli begins bucking and trying to escape. My wife holds firm. Now the blonde is completely beneath her. Her firm bronze ass sitting dominantly on my ex wife's bare chest. "Seven!...." I am so proud of my wife right now. I can't believe that she is about to vanquish this woman and she's doing it because she hurt ME! "Eight!..."
Kelli lets out a desperate grunt and bucks once more, this time she forces Lily to plant her hands to keep from falling off. Giving the blonde just enough room to twist her body and get a shoulder off of the mat to break the count. Dammit, I think to myself, I give a frustrated clap and growl quietly "stay on her, Lily... finish her.... finish this bitch!" I realize that I am all in on this fight now. I guess I didn't grasp just how much I needed this. Kelli fucked another man in our bed- I need my champion to hurt her, to conquer her. Lily has to win, for both of us.
The blonde writhes and struggles against my wife until she is able to dislodge her from her mount. As Lily falls to her side, she is able to keep her legs around Kelli's neck and locks in a head scissors. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, you cheating skank. I know I shouldn't be like this, but there is stuff that I've repressed for over a decade that is bubbling to the top.
I watch as my wife's beautifully muscular legs flex, draining the fight from Kelli. Lily pulls her victim's head in tight to the point that it looks like she may be smothering her with her pussy as well as crushing her with her thighs. "Finish her, baby!" I shout. What's coming over me? I've never vocally cheered at anything before.
Lily is clearly basking in this moment. She has the only woman she has ever truly hated right where she wants her and she is going to savor it. They are right in front of me and I can see the Asian gladiatrix's face as she smirks and begins to speak to her captive.
"For two... fucking years after you betrayed him... Mike wouldn't even date" Lily snarls, her legs tightening as her rage builds. Kelli squirms in pain, clawing at her tormentor's golden pythons. "... and it was... at least... twice as long before he would trust me... you did that... you cost me those... years... and now your going to pay for it!" Lily's legs are quivering as she continues her screed. Kelli's flailing becomes increasingly desperate. She has to be near her end.
"Normally... my favorite thing... about beating... white girls... is their face... turning red... but knowing it's you... that is the one... that is suffering... as you see that your replacement... is better than you... is almost... orgasmic." Lily glares at the blonde, her big, dark eyes bore into the woman. "Apologize and submit to me!" She commands. I don't think I've ever been so proud and flattered- or as turned on, in my life.
"No!... no!" Kelli growls back defiantly. Her claws moving frantically, looking for any possible weakness she can find to exploit to effect her escape.
Suddenly, I hear my wife let out a blood curdling scream. Kelli slips her head free and goes rolling across the cage, coming to rest in a panting mess laying on her back. Lily is massaging her crotch. It appears the blonde's talons found the Asian woman's nether regions and did their damage.
Lily recovers quickly and is on her hands and knees when she screams. "You... dirty... fighting ... twat!" My wife is in a blind fury as she charges on all fours towards the hated blonde woman. Kelli fires a hard kick that connects with the top of the Thai woman's thigh, sending her, belly down, on the canvas.
"No!" I shout grabbing the cage as I see my wife sent to the ground.
"Hands off the cage, asshole." I hear a gruff bouncer's gravelly voice as I feel a rough hand on my should. I sit back down in my chair as I see Kelli lunging for Lily's hair. The blonde latches on to her her black locks and bounces her forehead off of the hard canvas. My stomach that was fluttering with butterflies a moment ago as my wife was nearing victory now is tied in knots.
Lily is hurt and disoriented after the impact and Kelli follows it up by crawling onto my golden skinned goddess's back. A face that I once that beautiful is twisted in rage as she begins to pummel my wife's flanks. Lily is in trouble but still coherent enough to protect herself from the blonde's attempts to go for a camel clutch or other submission.
Kelli is relentless and is absolutely destroying my wife's ribs. I've seen her in many fights- even a couple of losses but I've never seen her being hurt like this. I think I'm going to be sick as her whimpers get louder and louder from the hard body blows.
It becomes too much and she has to guard her ribs. I see it coming but am powerless to do anything but stare as the blonde yanks the jet black ponytail with one hand until Lily's head is close enough to grab her chin with the other hand. My wife groans through gritted teeth as my ex wife leans back, locking in the camel clutch.
"Oh God... no!" I blurt out as I watch my wife's back bent painfully, her breasts coming off the mat and dangling just above the ground as she desperately pries at Kelli's fingers or tries to push off the canvas to alleviate the pain in her back. I resign myself to the fact that my love, my champion is all but defeated now.
"Give up... slut... say it... you second rate.. skank!" Kelli demands in a snarl as she applies even more groan inducing pressure.
"Fuck... you... Kelli..." the black haired woman spits out in defiance. I become aware of the crowd now. It's a near even mix of men either yelling for my wife to keep fighting or for Kelli to rip her head off.
I watch as Kelli's arms begin to quiver and shake as she pulls with everything she has. Then it happens, Lily is able to buck her hips just enough to get the blonde to lurch forward enough to gather her knees beneath her. Next, my wife grabs one of her rival's wrists. She then, rolls forward using the leverage I'm a makeshift judo throw that sends Kelli head over heels and onto her back.
"Yes!... that's it baby... fucking finish her!" I scream loud enough that I see Jake's eyes find me. I don't care. Fuck that homewrecking bastard.
Both women are down and hurting, lying only a few feet from each other. . They begin to stir at about the same time, but I just know Lily can do this. She wants it more. The two women look completely spent. Their topless bodies fighting for oxygen as the struggle to get to their knees. They pause, locking eyes for a brief moment before they each let out a wild shriek as they lunge for one another and the battle resumes.
Their two oil and sweat drenched bodies collide and intertwine in a tangle of white and golden skin. I watch as Lily grips Kelli's yellow hair, her knuckles white with strain as she tiredly tries to control the taller woman. Kelli is doing the same. They slip and slide. Two tired but determined foes. They exchange the top position several times before Lily is able to get her thick, powerful legs around the Kelli's slender waist. She is able to slide to the blonde's back and locks in the body scissors. Surely this is it, there's no way Kelli's ribs and belly can take much more.
My ex struggles against the hold but it gets worse for her as Lily is able to snake her arm around her neck. "You're... fuck.... ing... done... whore!" My wife growls into her rival's ear. With the choke tightening the two women become close to motionless. Lily applying pressure and Kelli hardening her body as she resists the pressure. It's only a matter of time. Thank the heavens. I'm not sure my heart can take much more of this roller coaster.
I can see that Kelli has her chin tucked and her claws are digging into my wife's bicep but even without the choke, her face lets everyone know that she is in an incredible amount of pain. The blonde struggles to escape, squirming and using her legs. Eventually moving until I can only see their backs before she finally comes to a halt. I might not get to see her face when she gives up but with I know it's coming soon. I knew Kelli was hard headed to a fault but there's no way she can't take this.
"Give up... you treacherous... cxnt!" I hear Lilly hiss. I can see her breathing heavily but my Asian anaconda has this. Just hold on.
"No!" Kelli defiantly grunts out again. I can see Kelli digging her nails deep into the bicep that is nearly cutting off her air. Lily groans in pain. I watch as the stubborn blonde creates enough space to send an elbow into my bride's belly. Lily yelps. Kelli does it again and again... and again. My jaw hits the floor in disbelief as my ex wife escapes again- much to the delight of the crowd.
Again both women have to climb the fence to even get back to standing. All semblance of skill is gone as the staffer towards one another like two drunks in a bar fight. Kelli slings a looping hook that slams into Lily's jaw. My wife stumbles backwards but manages to cling to the fencing to keep from falling down. Oh fuck! This is bad. I think as the blonde begins to move forward to finish my barely vertical champion.
I feel an overwhelming dread as the advantage has swung back to my ex. I know that as tired and hurt as both women are, almost anything could end this fight. I can see Kelli measuring for one last big punch but the blonde never makes it. Lily launches a powerful side kick that sinks deep into the camo clad woman's belly dropping her into a gasping, coughing heap.
With her nemesis on her hands and knees fighting to get her breath back, Lily forces herself off of the fencing of the cage. She muddles forward and grabs a fistful of sweaty yellow hair, yanking Kelli to a kneeling position before nearly taking her head off with a hard backhand. "Fuck yes! That's it knock this bitch out... you fucking deserve this!" I catch myself shouting.
Lily grabs Kelli's jaw and forces their eyes to meet. For the first time, Kelli doesn't just look trapped or in trouble... she looks defeated. Kneeling, her hands limply at her sides, her jaw controlled by my wife, one eye nearly swollen shut. This is it!
"Say it... you... dumb... blonde... cxnt!" Lily roars as she draws back her fist for the coup de Grace. I can see a righteous anger burning in Lily's eyes. She deserves this- we deserve this win. Silently I hope Kelli remains defiant and Lily knocks her out, finishing this whole ordeal... setting it all right.
Kelli opens her mouth to speak and the crowd gets quiet. Everyone in the place is now invested in seeing which of these two will finally finish the other. "...Sorry..." my ex wife croaks out just as her claws latch on to Lily's pussy. She tears at my wife's womanhood like a psychotic pit bull. The Asian woman's eyes go wide and I don't think I'll ever forget the sound of the shriek she lets out as she falls to her knees. The crowd erupts once more as I sit in stunned silence.
Lily is twitching as the blonde continues to maul her most intimate parts. My wife tries to pry the blonde's claws from her pussy but she looks like she's nearly in shock from the pain. Kelli's other hand clamps around her throat before forcing her into her back. This isn't happening I think as the blonde hops on to her dark haired rival. Her still firm ass planted on my wife's shoulders.
In a panic, Lily makes one attempt to escape but ends up in a worse position. Kelli's ass is now against her chin in a reverse face sit pin, one of her arms is trapped between the blonde's hamstring and calf, the other pinned beneath her shin.
"One!.."the Amazon sized referee begins. Lily frantically tries to buck but the blonde digs her nails into my wife's womanhood once more. Lily flattens out knowing that more movement will mean more pain. "Two!..." I watch as my dark haired warrior's hands clutch uselessly at the air, nothing in range for them to grab or hurt. "Three!..." This can't be how it ends can't t?
"Four!..." again, Lily begins to panic and squirm. This time, Kelli punishes her by sinking the claws of her free hand into one of my wife's big, beautiful breasts. "Five!..." the referee continues but she is almost drowned out by the sound of my wife screaming from the pain- both physical and the emotional pain of knowing she is about to lose. "Six!..."
"Seven!...". Lily plants her feet, fighting through the pain. She is not going to let Kelli beat her. She isn't giving up. Just a little bit more and you can escape. "Eight!..." Kelli leans forward, her talons digging in to my wife's pussy and forcing her hips back to the canvas. "Nine!..." It's too much... Lily flattens out once more. I'm crestfallen as I hear the referee shout "ten!" and her hand hits the mat for the final time.
Neither woman moves until the bell is finished ringing and the fight is officially over. Kelli relaxes her grip and nearly collapses off to the side of Lily. Both woman are laying flat. The only movement is their bare chests rising and falling as they gulp in oxygen. My ex wife is the first to stir. Buoyed by the adrenaline of a win, she rises. The black Amazon raising her hand in victory as she plants her foot on my wife's chest claiming the territory of her fallen foe.
I study my former wife as she stands triumphantly over her replacement. It's the first time I've seen her in over a decade. She is flashing that contagious smile that first attracted me to her. She looks strong. She looks beautiful. Then I feel a powerful guilt. No, I can't feel anything for her. What she did to me was unforgivable and what she has done tonight might be worse. She took everything from Lily tonight.
Then in her own act of defiance, as Billy is announcing Kelli as the winner, Lily shoves the blonde's foot off of her chest. "Fucking blonde bitch..." my wife snaps. Evidently Kelli didn't take everything.
"You want another ass kicking, slut?" Kelli barks back in her heavy accent with a renewed confidence. "You gonna give me your panties or am I gonna hurt ya some more and take them?"
Lily gets back to her knees. "Try it you trailer park twat" my wife growls as she lunges, grabbing the blonde around the waist. They tumble back to the ground and the war that everyone thought was over is on again. The crowd roars their approval of the extra curricular activities. The two are rolling across the cage in a jumble of hate. They are clawing, hair pulling, slapping as the curse each other with every slur imaginable.
"Ok, Latisha, get it under control.." I hear Billy command after about a minute into renewed battle of my wives. Kelli is on top when the black Amazon grabs two handfuls of blonde hair, pulling her off of Lily. My ex is out of her mind as she continues trying to go after the defeated woman.
Finally, the referee has had enough when Kelli tries to shove her. The big woman seems dumbfounded, glaring at the much smaller blonde woman who just pushed her. "I thought you said you weren't going to be any trouble tonight". She then effortlessly slings Kelli by the arm across the cage and into one of the posts. My ex slams in to the pole with a satisfying thud that leaves her in a heap on the canvas.
My eyes go back to Lily who has made it back to her feet and seeing red. She takes off in a charge towards the downed blonde. I hear Latisha shout. "That's enough, you two" as she steps between the my wife and Kelli. I gasp as Lily, enraged out of her mind, makes the same mistake as her rival, slapping the Amazon.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" The massive Latisha growls as she grabs my love by her disheveled raven hair before she can sprint past her to Kelli. The Amazon pulls Lily into a bear hug position. Then, power slams her to the mat. I see the bouncers moving in to keep Jake or I from assisting our wives.
Back in the cage, Lily is writhing in pain and Kelli has managed to crawl up the fencing to her feet. Latisha is shaking her head in aggravation "Two crazy ass bitches..." she grumbles.
Kelli saunters over to my fallen wife, stopping to speak with Latisha. "Thanks...time to get my trophy from this bitch...". Next she reaches down to strip Lily of her shiny silver bikini bottoms. The Asian woman attempts to roll away, denying the brutal blonde of her trophy. Kelli retaliates with a quick stomp to her belly.
"Damn it...I said, that's enough!" Latisha roars, grabbing Kelli again. This time she sends a knee to her toned belly that lifts her off the ground before she drops in a crumpled mess next to Lily.
The whole scene is surreal. Lily and Kelli are both down, moaning in pain next to one another. The crowd is chanting for the big black Amazon who looms over the two women. Her head cocks to the side and she lets out a sigh before reaching down and ripping off Lily's bottoms with a snap. She shrugs and tosses the destroyed garment onto Kelli's bare chest. "There you go, blondie" she quips as she turns to walk out of the cage.
Kelli is clutching my wife's silver bikini bottoms like they are her most prized possession as she sits up. She takes a moment before gathering her top and Lily's. It occurs to me that my wife is now stripped nude in front of everyone in this club. For some reason, what bothers me the most is knowing that Jake has now seen both of my wives naked. I suppose it's some sort of residual damage of Kelli's betrayal.
My ex wife slowly begins to walk towards the cage's door. Lily is now sitting up, in between Kelli and the door. She is clearly in pain, holding her injured back with one hand while trying to cover her naked pussy with the other. "I... n-n-never gave... up... I'm... not... finished.... with... you..." she sputters.
As Kelli looks down at her I begin to pray that this will just end. Lily is in no condition to fight but it's not in her nature to just let it go. She believes that she has to beat Kelli. But all this is going to do is get her hurt worse.
The crowd begins to applaud as Lily begins to struggle to her feet once more. Stay down, baby. It's ok. Life isn't always fair and sometimes the good girl loses. Please stay down, please. I think to myself. To my dismay, she is able to stand. She sloppily assumes a fighting stance blocking Kelli's path out of the cage.
I see my ex wife roll her shoulders and glare at the golden skinned woman standing in her way. "Don't do it, bitch." Kelli growls as she hobbles to meet her foe.
"Fuck... you...Kelli..." Lily snarls, sobbing as she raises her fists. My heart is breaking for her. She just can't let it go. She can't stomach Kelli beating her. Not after our history. Unfortunately, if this continues Kelli will have not only defeated her but, I fear, she will also hurt her. Lily staggers forward throwing a looping, sloppy punch aimed at the blonde's face. Kelli easily sidesteps the punch and my wife tumbles back to the canvas like a drunk at a bar.
Kelli smirks dismissively and starts to walk past Lily. Thank the Lord, this is finally about to be over. Then she stops. Her proud victorious expression fades and turns into a hate filled one. Why? She was the one that betrayed me... Wait, she's not looking at me. I become aware of the Housewives' Division Champion standing directly behind me. Jolene has the same evil face on as she glares back at Kelli.
Without breaking her stare at Jolene, Kelli sends a hard kick that smashes into Lily's lower back with a loud, echoing "thwack". The crowd lets out a collective "ooohhh!" and sends my poor naked wife onto her belly, helpless and rubbing her newest injury. This. Has. To. Stop.
I'm petrified with fear as I see Kelli point at the redhead behind me and raise her foot. No... no.. no. My mind is screaming but nothing is coming out of my mouth. Finally I find my voice and it cuts through the din of the fight club. "Kelli! Stop... please..."
Kelli's eyes snap away from Jolene and to me. The angry, sadistic face that I don't even recognize, with the focused, dangerous eyes, turns to confusion and then melts into the one I remember from our marriage. She locks eyes with me for what feels like forever. The killer assassin-like eyes, disappear. It's the longest we've looked at each other since she moved out and, like then, her eyes are welling with tears but she manages not to cry as she turns away and walks out of the cage.
All I can do is watch as my wife, now stripped and conquered, lies spread eagle in the center of the cage. She begins moving slowly as she recovers. She covers her face with her hands. I see her subtly try to hide her naked womanhood by closing her legs and turning her body. I can't keep from scanning the crowd and watching them ogle my wife, her nude body presented to them as a sacrificial tribute from my ex wife. I feel humiliated for her as well as myself.
As soon as Kelli is gone, the bouncers allow me into the cage. I rush to my beaten and broken wife's side. The crowd boos and jeers as I cover her with my jacket. Fuck them. These losers probably can't even get a woman- especially one that looks like Lily, let alone one brave enough to fight in the cage.
Lily's eyes are bleary and red from crying and all I can see is the pain behind them. She begins blubbering "I'm.... sorry... I'm .... so... sorry..." she keeps repeating as she shudders. She buries her head in my chest and I do my best to calm and soothe her as I hold her tightly, trying to hide her what's left of her virtue from these undeserving louts.
"It's ok... it'll be ok.... I'm so proud... I love you so much..." over and over I do my best to try to take the pain away. I have no idea how long we stay in the cage but the club is nearly empty by the time I am able to help her to her feet. She puts her arms around my neck and I carry her to the dressing room area.
It's heartbreaking to hear my wife trying to keep herself together and failing miserably. The only semi coherent statements she can seem to make are apologies to me. It takes a while but I am able to get Lily dressed and somewhat composed. I keep telling her how good she did, how proud I am of her, and anything else positive I think of as we make our exit past the cage. I continue my gushing over her all the way home. By the time we get inside the house I can tell it's working.
I dutifully help her with a nice, warm bath to soothe her aches and pains. I get her favorite plush robe. Some advil, snacks, I offer and fetch anything and everything I can to make this easier. Eventually, we make our way to bed. I can tell she is exhausted. We get comfortable and I think she is about to drift off to sleep when Lily looks up at me.
"I can beat her, Mike... I know I can.." Lily says her voice steady for the first time since the fight ended.
"I know you can, baby... You're smarter and more beautiful than her... she can't compete with you." I say giving her a hug. I hope that rematch doesn't happen.
"Thanks.... but you didn't say I was a better fighter.... you don't think I can beat her do you?" Her voice beginning to crack again.
My mind races to find something, anything to say to ease her anguish. One would think that after many successful years of advocating for others as a profession, I'd be somewhat competent at this. However, the truth is, that I don't want Lily to fight Kelli again. I don't know if she can beat her and I don't care. I just don't want her to get hurt like this again. She doesn't need to prove anything to me. I would always choose her.
"She got lucky tonight." I answer. Why can't I just say it- even if it's a lie? Lily's eyes narrow. I've known her long enough. She's perceptive. I know she thinks that I think Kelli would win. Maybe I do think that. I'm just glad she drops it and nuzzles up to my chest.
My wife drifts off finally and is sleeping peacefully, but my mind is racing. I replay the fight in my head. Guiltily, I let myself finally embrace the fantasy of having Kelli and Lily fight... and I have to admit, being the root cause of the whole thing is beyond a turn on. I'm conflicted as lust and compassion battle it out in my mind. I simultaneously want to see them fight again more than anything while also hoping the two never see each other again. Though, the look that Lily gave me before she went to sleep was unmistakable. It's not over between the two.
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It is my great honor, Kelli, to be the one to hand you your 1,000th Like. :) :) :)
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This is my favorite type of female fight fiction story. It’s a fantasy that’s based in reality just enough to be compelling, without sacrificing any of the sexiness. The ex vs current wife is a trope done countless times, but you avoided the usual cliches and caricatures and reminded us that the people involved have lives to live and, without excuse or judgment, often there are no “good girls” and “bad girls”. Sometimes the past is best left buried. Brilliant!
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Epic! Brilliant writing! Loved it!
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Catpin Chronicles, Chapter 5: Retribution and Resolve
As told by Mike Graham (Kelli's ex husband)
You can read the original story FFJ, Chapter 27 here:
https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.105 (https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.105)
"It's in the eyes
I can tell, you'll always be danger
We had it tonight
Why do you always seek absolution?
It's in the eyes
I can tell you'll always be danger"
? Mumford and Sons, from 'Snake Eyes'
"What got into you, baby?" I ask Lily as she lays panting with her head resting on my chest after an unusually explosive sexual romp. Usually, these are reserved for after she has imposed her will on some poor woman in a fight. I can't believe how turned on I get watching her put it all on the line. I know that both of us should be above such a base and primitive hobby- we are both successful lawyers, after all. I suppose it's just something hard wired in both of us.
I also know that she hasn't had a fight today because we've been together all day. Something must be up. "That was incredible..."
Her dark almond shaped eyes flicker with excitement and even more seductive than usual. "I've been waiting for right time to tell you.... Billy offered me a number one contender's match today!"
For most of the last few years my wife has been content to fight other wives in arranged matches or similar women in chance 'Catpin' encounters. But, since Billy started up the "Housewives Division" at his fight club, she has been hell bent on winning the championship.
My pretty Asian wife has always been extremely driven and competitive- hell, it's part of the reason I've always found her so attractive. She also has an obsession with being the toughest, best fighting wife around. She doesn't seem to care about fighting professionally or anything similar but her passion is conquering an equal and proving herself the 'Alpha' in front of the husbands.
With a whole division dedicated to that passion, it's unsurprising that she has been dominant in Billy's cage. As much as I worry about the mother of my children getting injured, I have to admit the upside is totally worth it. What's more is that she is good at it and it has lit a fire in her that has spread to all aspects of her life.
"That's great!.... One more win and you'll get your title shot, right?" I say making more small talk about our mutual hobby.
"Exactly.... But it's more than that... Guess who my opponent will be... well, if she doesn't chicken out?" She says almost electrically. I haven't seen her this excited in years. Plus this implies that it's someone that I'll recognize. That is getting me nearly as excited as her.
"I have no idea.... please tell me, Lil....I gotta know" I respond. My mind racing through all of the possible friends and coworkers that could possibly be in to this.
"You're not going to believe me...... it's Kelli!" She says proudly saying the name of my ex with a contempt that is reserved solely for that woman.
My jaw hits the floor. For as many times as I had fantasized about them fighting, nothing could prepare me for actually hearing that they are going to fight. It wasn't just me fantasizing about it. Lily blamed Kelli for a lot of things. Most importantly was that Kelli married me in the first place when it wasn't what she wanted. Lily has probably wanted a shot at Kelli since we met.
Lily and I had an instant chemistry when we met as first year law school students, but I was already dating Kelli at the time. Kelli was exactly what I thought I was looking for, what everyone expected me to be with- a good girl, goal oriented, driven... and traditionally pretty. She had worked her way into college from working class roots. She was feisty, and fiery. Plus, she looked great on my arm. Athletic and blonde with a beautiful face. My mother was just giddy thinking about what our kids would look like. We looked the part of the perfect all American couple.
Lily on the other hand was what I really wanted deep down. Sure, most wouldn't think she was as pretty as Kelli, but I found her to be sultry and exotic. She was definitely still very sexy. The Thai immigrant rivaled me intellectually and had a razor sharp wit. We quickly, but quietly became best friends while in law school. We just "clicked" in a way that Kelli and I never did. I knew she was into me and it took every bit of decency I had to stay faithful to Kelli but I did.
The other thing that Lily could never forgive Kelli for was for what she did to me. With Kelli and my relationship consisting primarily of each of us trying to do what everyone expected of us, it was probably inevitable that one of us would stray. Kelli was the first to do it. Evidently she had run into an old boyfriend or something, a guy named Jake. They began fucking behind my back. I figured it out pretty quickly. That girl was voracious in the bedroom and all of a sudden, she didn't need it from me all the time.
I was already a little self conscious of barely being able to keep up with her sexual appetite. So, when it changed, I noticed. Those two tried to keep it a secret but when their idea "quickie" was an hour, it wasn't hard to catch them. I never let her know that I knew about him. It took me a while to even accept that we were finished and the only person I confided in was Lily. I probably shit talked Kelli more than I should have but I was betrayed and hurt. The end result was that Lily really, I mean really, hated Kelli.
Lily tried to talk me into "getting even" by sleeping with her but I wasn't raised that way. At least, until Kelli filed for divorce. While Lily and I "clicked" in the sack as well, Kelli's betrayal had messed up my head enough that it caused me to take things slower than the very impatient Lily wanted.
Even though everything was so messy and dramatic, I can't really complain. Lily and I have been together and happy since. I rarely think about my first wife anymore except for the occasional fantasizing of her and Lily fighting it out. A fantasy that appears to be about to manifest soon.
I finally stop sputtering and stammering long enough to ask "Are you seriously?"
"Completely... I'm going to wreck that bitch like I should of done years ago!" My wife kisses me deeply before she reaches beneath the sheets and finds that I'm ready for another round after hearing the news. She flashes me a devious look and we make love again.
During the rest of the week Lily is as focused as I've ever seen her as she trains for what she has termed "The Reckoning".
I'm glad that she is focused, because I am not. I haven't seen Kelli in over a decade and I don't know what kind of shape she is in. She was a good athlete in high school and kept it up pretty well while we were together. As her and Lily are fighting in a number one contender's match, I think it's safe to assume Kelli won't be a pushover and will also be ready.
When the night of "The Reckoning" arrives, I make sure to wear Lily's favorite of my suits. She even dresses up even though she will be fighting in a bikini later. We want everyone to know that we are a power couple in this world as well as in our regular lives. The whole scene is exciting beyond anything I've ever experienced. We get to Billy's early enough to get a booth to watch the action beforehand. Lily says that seeing other women fight gets her ready and unleashes her inner warrior. I love watching women fight in bikinis already. So, who am I to argue?
"There the bitch is!" I hear Lily growl as she not so subtly points out Kelli as she walks in. She doesn't see us as she headed to the back and the dressing rooms without saying so much as a word to anyone in the crowd. I see she is still with Jake. I guess it worked out for everyone. I'm kind of relieved she is still with him. Makes me think that it wasn't me, that they actually were meant for one another.
I can't deny that she still looks great. Slender and fit. She looked confident and comfortable in her blue jeans and t-shirt. She never did seem at ease in the designer brands that I bought her for our numerous excursions into the city's finer establishments. She was always appreciative of the gifts, but you could tell she would rather have been dressed like she is tonight.
"I'm going to hurt her so bad for you, Mike. That slut will be begging for mercy... I've waited so long for this.... I'm going to give her what she deserves." Lily's voice is calm and focused but I can feel the hatred seething just beneath the surface.
"I have no doubt that you will, baby... I can't wait to see you do it." I say smiling back. I can feel it. Lily is going to win. She is strong, focused and very good at this. What's more she- no, WE deserve to win tonight. There's no way Kelli will want this more than her.
Lily and I enjoy watching a couple more fights before she retires to the back to get ready for the fight. I'm excited to see what she'll be wearing tonight. She always keeps her outfit a secret until revealing it during the introduction. It's become one of my favorite elements of these nights. Almost up there with her "trophy case" where she keeps her conquered foes' captured bikinis. It will be interesting having something of Kelli's in our house, but I don't think I'll mind under the circumstances.
The lights dim briefly and a spotlight swings to one corner of the neon lit and smoke filled club as rock music begins to blare over the speakers. I see the once familiar slender silhouette of my ex wife as she steps into the bright light.
Kelli looks confident as she bounces down the aisle towards the cage in a camouflage bikini. Her long, golden hair tied in a tight ponytail. She is all smiles and plays to the crowd along the way. With her body covered in a sheen of oil, I can't help but to notice her lean and fit body. I'm relieved that Lily isn't here at the moment, as my mind wanders back in time looking at her still beautiful face. Despite her smiles, her brown eyes tell a different story. They have the look of what I imagine an assassin's would look like. There's no mistaking it, Kelli is dangerous.
Fortunately, reality snaps me out of my trip down memory lane when she stops to plant a kiss on Jake's lips before climbing into the cage. A kiss that reminds me of what those two did to me all those years ago. Any rose colored glasses are smashed. Oddly enough, I don't really care about Lily "avenging" me or whatever that means, but more than anything, I want her to get the vengeance that she has lusted over for all of these years.
As Kelli is warming up in the cage I notice the referee for tonight's contest enter the ring. Usually Billy's referees are mostly there as eye candy, but tonight the woman wearing the tight, cropped black and white striped shirt and boy shorts is an absolute Amazon. The woman is probably closer to my size than Kelli or Lily. Standing close to 6 feet tall and she probably weighs close to 200 pounds of mostly muscle. I watch while the sexy black giantess does the customary prefight pat down on Kelli. From his selection of the ref, Billy must think these two are going to be a handful tonight. I'm inclined to agree.
I hear some generic Far East music begin and my whips around to the opposite end of the club in time to see my wife step into the spot light and hear the music transition into hip hop. Lily is wearing a revealing, metallic silver bikini. It's much sexier than Kelli's camo one and she is definitely garnering the lion's share of the applause as she struts to the cage with sexily angry cadence.
There's no way to ignore the contrasts between the two sexy, yet very different women. Lily's deep golden brown skin from her Thai roots makes even the tan Kelli look fairly pale. My wife is just a bit shorter then my ex, but they are built completely different. She is more compact, her legs thicker and more muscular. Her jet black hair is tight in a similarly tight ponytail that hangs nearly to her thick, round ass.
Then, there's the most obvious difference. Lily's much larger tits. I know Kelli was always self conscious of her smaller chest. I made the mistake of offering to pay for an enlargement. Good Lord, I thought she would never forgive me. Fortunately, that awkward issue never had to be broached with Lily's majestically massive mammories. Even watching them bounce down the aisle covered in the silver material doesn't do them justice. They are magnificent. I bet Lily's tits will enrage Kelli. She always hated women more endowed then her, it's one of her "buttons".
After Lily climbs into the cage, the black Amazon gives her the same customary pat down that Kelli recieved as Billy enters the cage. The big bald man begins to do his introductions in his best carnie barker voice.
"Welcome to this battle between the Wild West and the Far East...Introducing first... standing 5 foot five... and one half inches tall, weighing in at a mean 130 pounds of Texas temptation.... Kelli... the Fyrecracka.... Rose." Kelli plays to the crowd and receives a strong response of applause and catcalls. Why wouldn't she? It's impossible to deny that my ex wife is traditionally very beautiful.
The bar owner continues. "And her opponent... in this battle for a shot at the champion of our prestigious Housewives Division... she's 5 foot 4 inches tall and, also, 130 pounds... Lethal.. Lily... Graham!" Lethal Lily, I like that. The shorter Thai woman throws a series of punches and kicks through the air. No doubt she is trying to intimidate the blonde and impress the rowdy spectators. My equally stunning wife is rewarded with an equally loud response. The look on Kelli's face is annoyed and unimpressed.
Also, I'm starting to come to the conclusion that she hasn't realized who Lily is yet. Which makes sense since I never introduced the two women before. I figured there was no need to bring the fact that my best friend and the person I vented about my wife to was a drop dead gorgeous woman who was clearly interested in me. Who would want to invite that kind of drama into their marriage?
As Billy goes over the rules and continues to hype the crowd the two women are locked in an intense stare down. I've never seen Lily so focused and white hot with rage. Kelli looks like she is all business and is refusing to be intimidated... all while they are in bikinis. I can almost see the two evaluating each other's bodies. Comparing themselves against the other woman and looking for weaknesses. Lord help me, this has to be the sexiest thing I have ever witnessed.
The referee motions both women to meet her in the center of the cage. Neither one breaks her glare as they strut towards each other until they are chest to chest. I'm so hard that it hurts as I see them begin to trash talk. What I wouldn't give to be able to hear it. I see Kelli's head break the stare down for the first time and she looks directly at me. Her eyes go wide. In this moment my ex wife becomes aware of just who she's about to fight. Lily makes sure to seize the opportunity to use her bigger chest to move Kelli back a step. Kelli definitely wasn't prepared for that little revelation. She looks shocked and speechless, but Lily, clearly isn't. The shorter woman is giving her hated rival a tongue lashing that is punctuated with a big chest bump at the end. The crowd erupts and Kelli begins to press back until the Amazon of a referee forcefully separates the two, then, calls for the starting bell.
The bell hasn't even finished ringing when Lily lets out a shriek as she charges towards the blonde. Her shoulder slams into my ex wife's chest, driving her backwards until she smashes into the chain link fencing. My beautiful Thai dynamo is unleashing a torrent of punches to the leaner woman's belly, punctuating each strike with either "bitch" or "cxnt".
Any thoughts of Lily completely overwhelming Kelli with her initial barrage evaporates when the blonde focuses and is able to get her back off of the cage. Kelli yanks Lily's ponytail and is able to force a classic "bitch clench". The two exchange blows for a few seconds. My wife is fighting with a rage that I have never seen before. Whereas Kelli is more calm and collected.
The more calculating woman executes a trip and initially lands on top, but Lily will not be denied her vengeance. A moment later the two are rolling around the cage in a furious catball. The giantess of a referee is doing her best to simply stay out of the way as the two woman are nearly ripping each other apart. Kelli's top is ripped clean off. Lily's is pulled off, leaving her heaving tits uncovered. It's like nothing I've ever seen before. The clawing, the cursing, the hatred- its intensity on a different level. When they fury finally stabilizes, it is my wife who is laying on top of her rival. Her larger golden breasts pinning her hated rival's as the referee begins counting the pin.
I can see Lily hissing something into Kelli's ears as they struggle but the crowd is roaring and I can barely even hear the Amazon counting the multiple attempts at a pin. The blonde is not quite able to escape but my wife can never keep her down for more than a three count. A far cry from the required ten count.
I'm amazed at how cool and collected Kelli remains as she methodically keeps escaping the pin attempts even as Lily is clearly in control. I remember her being much more fiery. It's a little unnerving how calculating the blonde assassin is. She expertly snakes her leg around one of my wife's, effectively trapping it before flipping positions.
Then, the cool, calm Kelli disappears when she lets out a primal screech as she dives claws first into Lily's gloriously superior tits. My wife bucks wildly from the attack until she is able to send her golden haired tormentor rolling across the cage- taking the Asian woman's bikini top with her.
The two rivals are back to standing in a flash and stalking each other around the cage as their chests heave with every breath and bounce with every step as they move around the cage.
"Sounds like ... he preferred... getting a little... of what I had... to having everything you had to offer..."Kelli taunts loud enough that I can hear.
"Fuck.. you.. trailer ... trash... he was ... too loyal ... and you... didn't deserve him..." My wife counters, snarling at the hated blonde woman. I can't imagine the venom and vitriol these two have been spewing to each other when I couldn't hear them. They take a couple of more steps, then lunge at each other, locking up in the middle of the cage.
They dance around the cage. The light shimmers off of their oiled and sweaty skin. Accentuating every twitch, flex or jiggle of their bodies as they strain against one another in a stalemate. Neither able to outmuscle the other.
Kelli breaks the stalemate by stomping on Lily's foot. My wife wails in pain but that is cut off as the blonde's knee sinks into her belly, doubling her over. My ex growls as she latches on to the Thai woman's jet black hair, slinging her violently around the cage and eventually on to the canvas.
Lily tries to scurry away in an act of self preservation but the blonde still has her hair in a death grip. Kelli yanks my wife back on to her ass with a thud, snarling "Get your... cheap... mail... order... ass back here!" I wince as my ex pounces on my wife cinching into a tight headlock and flattening the bronze skinned woman onto her belly.
Lily is clawing at Kelli's forearm as the, now completely in control, blonde uses it to crank her chin upwards painfully. My poor bride's eyes are closed and her teeth clenched as she tries to fight through the pain. "Say.. it.. bitch!" Kelli commands harshly. I doubt Lily can even answer but I know she will never give her most hated rival the satisfaction of a verbal submission.
For the first time in this fight, I begin to really worry about Lily. Kelli has her now. She is slowly and methodically working the neck hold. The dark haired woman is fighting it with everything she has but keeps surrendering precious millimeters until she is stretched to her limit. She releases one hand and reaches out across the mat. I hate to see it but I am relieved to see that my wife is going to tap out. While I'm sure it will take some time for us to get past, it's best this ends before anyone gets injured. I can't even imagine how it would be if Kelli were to hurt Lily permanently.
Just as I am sure her next motion will be to tap the canvas, Lily reaches back and rakes her nails across Kelli's face. The blonde screams and recoils across the floor of the cage. She fumbles around for a few moments, clearly blinded by my wife's dirty tactic.
Lily manages to sit up and recover against the cage, rubbing her neck but unable to follow up with any more offense. Kelli finally gets to her hands and knees. "Fucking... bitch!" She growls as the first thing she sees as the world comes back into focus is Lily. Who is giving her a similar glare. The two women begin to climb the fence to get back to their feet, never breaking eye contact.
Lily is still massaging her neck as she steadies herself. "Mail order... bride?... I moved here... when I was... ten, you... ignorant... cxnt!" Lily rages, her voice growing with very word as she pushes off the fence and begins to stagger towards Kelli who is moving just as slowly to meet her.
The crowd's buzz is building to a roar. I doubt any of them know why these two are going at it with such intensity, but they definitely appreciate it and they want more. Lily and Kelli give it to them, the clash in the center of the cage again. Each of the woman getting knuckles deep in the other's hair. The yank and tug, trying to hurt and control the other woman. Their hands blindly reach for the other's face as they push against each other's chins and necks..
Lily finally latches on to my ex wife's jaw, digging her nails into the woman's face as she pushes her chin skyward, earning her a painful groan from the taller woman.
The Asian woman has her foe off balance and with one more rough yank, the blonde goes to the ground. Lily has been a natural wrestler since she has taken up this little hobby and now she's the calm one. She methodically out wrestles and traps Kelli on her back, working herself into a textbook schoolgirl pin.
The blonde looks worn out as Lily plants the back of her hands to the canvas next to her ears. The Amazon begins the count when my exhausted ex's shoulders finally sink to the mat. "One!..... Two!..... Three!..." the big woman yells every time she slaps the ground.
My heart begins to flutter. "...Four!..." I have never really let myself get to caught up in the revenge that has been motivating Lily so much, but now I let it creep in as I watch the contrasting women. "Five!..."Lily looks so strong and dominant while Kelli looks defeated and beaten. "...Six!" Just then Kelli begins bucking and trying to escape. My wife holds firm. Now the blonde is completely beneath her. Her firm bronze ass sitting dominantly on my ex wife's bare chest. "Seven!...." I am so proud of my wife right now. I can't believe that she is about to vanquish this woman and she's doing it because she hurt ME! "Eight!..."
Kelli lets out a desperate grunt and bucks once more, this time she forces Lily to plant her hands to keep from falling off. Giving the blonde just enough room to twist her body and get a shoulder off of the mat to break the count. Dammit, I think to myself, I give a frustrated clap and growl quietly "stay on her, Lily... finish her.... finish this bitch!" I realize that I am all in on this fight now. I guess I didn't grasp just how much I needed this. Kelli fucked another man in our bed- I need my champion to hurt her, to conquer her. Lily has to win, for both of us.
The blonde writhes and struggles against my wife until she is able to dislodge her from her mount. As Lily falls to her side, she is able to keep her legs around Kelli's neck and locks in a head scissors. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, you cheating skank. I know I shouldn't be like this, but there is stuff that I've repressed for over a decade that is bubbling to the top.
I watch as my wife's beautifully muscular legs flex, draining the fight from Kelli. Lily pulls her victim's head in tight to the point that it looks like she may be smothering her with her pussy as well as crushing her with her thighs. "Finish her, baby!" I shout. What's coming over me? I've never vocally cheered at anything before.
Lily is clearly basking in this moment. She has the only woman she has ever truly hated right where she wants her and she is going to savor it. They are right in front of me and I can see the Asian gladiatrix's face as she smirks and begins to speak to her captive.
"For two... fucking years after you betrayed him... Mike wouldn't even date" Lily snarls, her legs tightening as her rage builds. Kelli squirms in pain, clawing at her tormentor's golden pythons. "... and it was... at least... twice as long before he would trust me... you did that... you cost me those... years... and now your going to pay for it!" Lily's legs are quivering as she continues her screed. Kelli's flailing becomes increasingly desperate. She has to be near her end.
"Normally... my favorite thing... about beating... white girls... is their face... turning red... but knowing it's you... that is the one... that is suffering... as you see that your replacement... is better than you... is almost... orgasmic." Lily glares at the blonde, her big, dark eyes bore into the woman. "Apologize and submit to me!" She commands. I don't think I've ever been so proud and flattered- or as turned on, in my life.
"No!... no!" Kelli growls back defiantly. Her claws moving frantically, looking for any possible weakness she can find to exploit to effect her escape.
Suddenly, I hear my wife let out a blood curdling scream. Kelli slips her head free and goes rolling across the cage, coming to rest in a panting mess laying on her back. Lily is massaging her crotch. It appears the blonde's talons found the Asian woman's nether regions and did their damage.
Lily recovers quickly and is on her hands and knees when she screams. "You... dirty... fighting ... twat!" My wife is in a blind fury as she charges on all fours towards the hated blonde woman. Kelli fires a hard kick that connects with the top of the Thai woman's thigh, sending her, belly down, on the canvas.
"No!" I shout grabbing the cage as I see my wife sent to the ground.
"Hands off the cage, asshole." I hear a gruff bouncer's gravelly voice as I feel a rough hand on my should. I sit back down in my chair as I see Kelli lunging for Lily's hair. The blonde latches on to her her black locks and bounces her forehead off of the hard canvas. My stomach that was fluttering with butterflies a moment ago as my wife was nearing victory now is tied in knots.
Lily is hurt and disoriented after the impact and Kelli follows it up by crawling onto my golden skinned goddess's back. A face that I once that beautiful is twisted in rage as she begins to pummel my wife's flanks. Lily is in trouble but still coherent enough to protect herself from the blonde's attempts to go for a camel clutch or other submission.
Kelli is relentless and is absolutely destroying my wife's ribs. I've seen her in many fights- even a couple of losses but I've never seen her being hurt like this. I think I'm going to be sick as her whimpers get louder and louder from the hard body blows.
It becomes too much and she has to guard her ribs. I see it coming but am powerless to do anything but stare as the blonde yanks the jet black ponytail with one hand until Lily's head is close enough to grab her chin with the other hand. My wife groans through gritted teeth as my ex wife leans back, locking in the camel clutch.
"Oh God... no!" I blurt out as I watch my wife's back bent painfully, her breasts coming off the mat and dangling just above the ground as she desperately pries at Kelli's fingers or tries to push off the canvas to alleviate the pain in her back. I resign myself to the fact that my love, my champion is all but defeated now.
"Give up... slut... say it... you second rate.. skank!" Kelli demands in a snarl as she applies even more groan inducing pressure.
"Fuck... you... Kelli..." the black haired woman spits out in defiance. I become aware of the crowd now. It's a near even mix of men either yelling for my wife to keep fighting or for Kelli to rip her head off.
I watch as Kelli's arms begin to quiver and shake as she pulls with everything she has. Then it happens, Lily is able to buck her hips just enough to get the blonde to lurch forward enough to gather her knees beneath her. Next, my wife grabs one of her rival's wrists. She then, rolls forward using the leverage I'm a makeshift judo throw that sends Kelli head over heels and onto her back.
"Yes!... that's it baby... fucking finish her!" I scream loud enough that I see Jake's eyes find me. I don't care. Fuck that homewrecking bastard.
Both women are down and hurting, lying only a few feet from each other. . They begin to stir at about the same time, but I just know Lily can do this. She wants it more. The two women look completely spent. Their topless bodies fighting for oxygen as the struggle to get to their knees. They pause, locking eyes for a brief moment before they each let out a wild shriek as they lunge for one another and the battle resumes.
Their two oil and sweat drenched bodies collide and intertwine in a tangle of white and golden skin. I watch as Lily grips Kelli's yellow hair, her knuckles white with strain as she tiredly tries to control the taller woman. Kelli is doing the same. They slip and slide. Two tired but determined foes. They exchange the top position several times before Lily is able to get her thick, powerful legs around the Kelli's slender waist. She is able to slide to the blonde's back and locks in the body scissors. Surely this is it, there's no way Kelli's ribs and belly can take much more.
My ex struggles against the hold but it gets worse for her as Lily is able to snake her arm around her neck. "You're... fuck.... ing... done... whore!" My wife growls into her rival's ear. With the choke tightening the two women become close to motionless. Lily applying pressure and Kelli hardening her body as she resists the pressure. It's only a matter of time. Thank the heavens. I'm not sure my heart can take much more of this roller coaster.
I can see that Kelli has her chin tucked and her claws are digging into my wife's bicep but even without the choke, her face lets everyone know that she is in an incredible amount of pain. The blonde struggles to escape, squirming and using her legs. Eventually moving until I can only see their backs before she finally comes to a halt. I might not get to see her face when she gives up but with I know it's coming soon. I knew Kelli was hard headed to a fault but there's no way she can't take this.
"Give up... you treacherous... cxnt!" I hear Lilly hiss. I can see her breathing heavily but my Asian anaconda has this. Just hold on.
"No!" Kelli defiantly grunts out again. I can see Kelli digging her nails deep into the bicep that is nearly cutting off her air. Lily groans in pain. I watch as the stubborn blonde creates enough space to send an elbow into my bride's belly. Lily yelps. Kelli does it again and again... and again. My jaw hits the floor in disbelief as my ex wife escapes again- much to the delight of the crowd.
Again both women have to climb the fence to even get back to standing. All semblance of skill is gone as the staffer towards one another like two drunks in a bar fight. Kelli slings a looping hook that slams into Lily's jaw. My wife stumbles backwards but manages to cling to the fencing to keep from falling down. Oh fuck! This is bad. I think as the blonde begins to move forward to finish my barely vertical champion.
I feel an overwhelming dread as the advantage has swung back to my ex. I know that as tired and hurt as both women are, almost anything could end this fight. I can see Kelli measuring for one last big punch but the blonde never makes it. Lily launches a powerful side kick that sinks deep into the camo clad woman's belly dropping her into a gasping, coughing heap.
With her nemesis on her hands and knees fighting to get her breath back, Lily forces herself off of the fencing of the cage. She muddles forward and grabs a fistful of sweaty yellow hair, yanking Kelli to a kneeling position before nearly taking her head off with a hard backhand. "Fuck yes! That's it knock this bitch out... you fucking deserve this!" I catch myself shouting.
Lily grabs Kelli's jaw and forces their eyes to meet. For the first time, Kelli doesn't just look trapped or in trouble... she looks defeated. Kneeling, her hands limply at her sides, her jaw controlled by my wife, one eye nearly swollen shut. This is it!
"Say it... you... dumb... blonde... cxnt!" Lily roars as she draws back her fist for the coup de Grace. I can see a righteous anger burning in Lily's eyes. She deserves this- we deserve this win. Silently I hope Kelli remains defiant and Lily knocks her out, finishing this whole ordeal... setting it all right.
Kelli opens her mouth to speak and the crowd gets quiet. Everyone in the place is now invested in seeing which of these two will finally finish the other. "...Sorry..." my ex wife croaks out just as her claws latch on to Lily's pussy. She tears at my wife's womanhood like a psychotic pit bull. The Asian woman's eyes go wide and I don't think I'll ever forget the sound of the shriek she lets out as she falls to her knees. The crowd erupts once more as I sit in stunned silence.
Lily is twitching as the blonde continues to maul her most intimate parts. My wife tries to pry the blonde's claws from her pussy but she looks like she's nearly in shock from the pain. Kelli's other hand clamps around her throat before forcing her into her back. This isn't happening I think as the blonde hops on to her dark haired rival. Her still firm ass planted on my wife's shoulders.
In a panic, Lily makes one attempt to escape but ends up in a worse position. Kelli's ass is now against her chin in a reverse face sit pin, one of her arms is trapped between the blonde's hamstring and calf, the other pinned beneath her shin.
"One!.."the Amazon sized referee begins. Lily frantically tries to buck but the blonde digs her nails into my wife's womanhood once more. Lily flattens out knowing that more movement will mean more pain. "Two!..." I watch as my dark haired warrior's hands clutch uselessly at the air, nothing in range for them to grab or hurt. "Three!..." This can't be how it ends can't t?
"Four!..." again, Lily begins to panic and squirm. This time, Kelli punishes her by sinking the claws of her free hand into one of my wife's big, beautiful breasts. "Five!..." the referee continues but she is almost drowned out by the sound of my wife screaming from the pain- both physical and the emotional pain of knowing she is about to lose. "Six!..."
"Seven!...". Lily plants her feet, fighting through the pain. She is not going to let Kelli beat her. She isn't giving up. Just a little bit more and you can escape. "Eight!..." Kelli leans forward, her talons digging in to my wife's pussy and forcing her hips back to the canvas. "Nine!..." It's too much... Lily flattens out once more. I'm crestfallen as I hear the referee shout "ten!" and her hand hits the mat for the final time.
Neither woman moves until the bell is finished ringing and the fight is officially over. Kelli relaxes her grip and nearly collapses off to the side of Lily. Both woman are laying flat. The only movement is their bare chests rising and falling as they gulp in oxygen. My ex wife is the first to stir. Buoyed by the adrenaline of a win, she rises. The black Amazon raising her hand in victory as she plants her foot on my wife's chest claiming the territory of her fallen foe.
I study my former wife as she stands triumphantly over her replacement. It's the first time I've seen her in over a decade. She is flashing that contagious smile that first attracted me to her. She looks strong. She looks beautiful. Then I feel a powerful guilt. No, I can't feel anything for her. What she did to me was unforgivable and what she has done tonight might be worse. She took everything from Lily tonight.
Then in her own act of defiance, as Billy is announcing Kelli as the winner, Lily shoves the blonde's foot off of her chest. "Fucking blonde bitch..." my wife snaps. Evidently Kelli didn't take everything.
"You want another ass kicking, slut?" Kelli barks back in her heavy accent with a renewed confidence. "You gonna give me your panties or am I gonna hurt ya some more and take them?"
Lily gets back to her knees. "Try it you trailer park twat" my wife growls as she lunges, grabbing the blonde around the waist. They tumble back to the ground and the war that everyone thought was over is on again. The crowd roars their approval of the extra curricular activities. The two are rolling across the cage in a jumble of hate. They are clawing, hair pulling, slapping as the curse each other with every slur imaginable.
"Ok, Latisha, get it under control.." I hear Billy command after about a minute into renewed battle of my wives. Kelli is on top when the black Amazon grabs two handfuls of blonde hair, pulling her off of Lily. My ex is out of her mind as she continues trying to go after the defeated woman.
Finally, the referee has had enough when Kelli tries to shove her. The big woman seems dumbfounded, glaring at the much smaller blonde woman who just pushed her. "I thought you said you weren't going to be any trouble tonight". She then effortlessly slings Kelli by the arm across the cage and into one of the posts. My ex slams in to the pole with a satisfying thud that leaves her in a heap on the canvas.
My eyes go back to Lily who has made it back to her feet and seeing red. She takes off in a charge towards the downed blonde. I hear Latisha shout. "That's enough, you two" as she steps between the my wife and Kelli. I gasp as Lily, enraged out of her mind, makes the same mistake as her rival, slapping the Amazon.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" The massive Latisha growls as she grabs my love by her disheveled raven hair before she can sprint past her to Kelli. The Amazon pulls Lily into a bear hug position. Then, power slams her to the mat. I see the bouncers moving in to keep Jake or I from assisting our wives.
Back in the cage, Lily is writhing in pain and Kelli has managed to crawl up the fencing to her feet. Latisha is shaking her head in aggravation "Two crazy ass bitches..." she grumbles.
Kelli saunters over to my fallen wife, stopping to speak with Latisha. "Thanks...time to get my trophy from this bitch...". Next she reaches down to strip Lily of her shiny silver bikini bottoms. The Asian woman attempts to roll away, denying the brutal blonde of her trophy. Kelli retaliates with a quick stomp to her belly.
"Damn it...I said, that's enough!" Latisha roars, grabbing Kelli again. This time she sends a knee to her toned belly that lifts her off the ground before she drops in a crumpled mess next to Lily.
The whole scene is surreal. Lily and Kelli are both down, moaning in pain next to one another. The crowd is chanting for the big black Amazon who looms over the two women. Her head cocks to the side and she lets out a sigh before reaching down and ripping off Lily's bottoms with a snap. She shrugs and tosses the destroyed garment onto Kelli's bare chest. "There you go, blondie" she quips as she turns to walk out of the cage.
Kelli is clutching my wife's silver bikini bottoms like they are her most prized possession as she sits up. She takes a moment before gathering her top and Lily's. It occurs to me that my wife is now stripped nude in front of everyone in this club. For some reason, what bothers me the most is knowing that Jake has now seen both of my wives naked. I suppose it's some sort of residual damage of Kelli's betrayal.
My ex wife slowly begins to walk towards the cage's door. Lily is now sitting up, in between Kelli and the door. She is clearly in pain, holding her injured back with one hand while trying to cover her naked pussy with the other. "I... n-n-never gave... up... I'm... not... finished.... with... you..." she sputters.
As Kelli looks down at her I begin to pray that this will just end. Lily is in no condition to fight but it's not in her nature to just let it go. She believes that she has to beat Kelli. But all this is going to do is get her hurt worse.
The crowd begins to applaud as Lily begins to struggle to her feet once more. Stay down, baby. It's ok. Life isn't always fair and sometimes the good girl loses. Please stay down, please. I think to myself. To my dismay, she is able to stand. She sloppily assumes a fighting stance blocking Kelli's path out of the cage.
I see my ex wife roll her shoulders and glare at the golden skinned woman standing in her way. "Don't do it, bitch." Kelli growls as she hobbles to meet her foe.
"Fuck... you...Kelli..." Lily snarls, sobbing as she raises her fists. My heart is breaking for her. She just can't let it go. She can't stomach Kelli beating her. Not after our history. Unfortunately, if this continues Kelli will have not only defeated her but, I fear, she will also hurt her. Lily staggers forward throwing a looping, sloppy punch aimed at the blonde's face. Kelli easily sidesteps the punch and my wife tumbles back to the canvas like a drunk at a bar.
Kelli smirks dismissively and starts to walk past Lily. Thank the Lord, this is finally about to be over. Then she stops. Her proud victorious expression fades and turns into a hate filled one. Why? She was the one that betrayed me... Wait, she's not looking at me. I become aware of the Housewives' Division Champion standing directly behind me. Jolene has the same evil face on as she glares back at Kelli.
Without breaking her stare at Jolene, Kelli sends a hard kick that smashes into Lily's lower back with a loud, echoing "thwack". The crowd lets out a collective "ooohhh!" and sends my poor naked wife onto her belly, helpless and rubbing her newest injury. This. Has. To. Stop.
I'm petrified with fear as I see Kelli point at the redhead behind me and raise her foot. No... no.. no. My mind is screaming but nothing is coming out of my mouth. Finally I find my voice and it cuts through the din of the fight club. "Kelli! Stop... please..."
Kelli's eyes snap away from Jolene and to me. The angry, sadistic face that I don't even recognize, with the focused, dangerous eyes, turns to confusion and then melts into the one I remember from our marriage. She locks eyes with me for what feels like forever. The killer assassin-like eyes, disappear. It's the longest we've looked at each other since she moved out and, like then, her eyes are welling with tears but she manages not to cry as she turns away and walks out of the cage.
All I can do is watch as my wife, now stripped and conquered, lies spread eagle in the center of the cage. She begins moving slowly as she recovers. She covers her face with her hands. I see her subtly try to hide her naked womanhood by closing her legs and turning her body. I can't keep from scanning the crowd and watching them ogle my wife, her nude body presented to them as a sacrificial tribute from my ex wife. I feel humiliated for her as well as myself.
As soon as Kelli is gone, the bouncers allow me into the cage. I rush to my beaten and broken wife's side. The crowd boos and jeers as I cover her with my jacket. Fuck them. These losers probably can't even get a woman- especially one that looks like Lily, let alone one brave enough to fight in the cage.
Lily's eyes are bleary and red from crying and all I can see is the pain behind them. She begins blubbering "I'm.... sorry... I'm .... so... sorry..." she keeps repeating as she shudders. She buries her head in my chest and I do my best to calm and soothe her as I hold her tightly, trying to hide her what's left of her virtue from these undeserving louts.
"It's ok... it'll be ok.... I'm so proud... I love you so much..." over and over I do my best to try to take the pain away. I have no idea how long we stay in the cage but the club is nearly empty by the time I am able to help her to her feet. She puts her arms around my neck and I carry her to the dressing room area.
It's heartbreaking to hear my wife trying to keep herself together and failing miserably. The only semi coherent statements she can seem to make are apologies to me. It takes a while but I am able to get Lily dressed and somewhat composed. I keep telling her how good she did, how proud I am of her, and anything else positive I think of as we make our exit past the cage. I continue my gushing over her all the way home. By the time we get inside the house I can tell it's working.
I dutifully help her with a nice, warm bath to soothe her aches and pains. I get her favorite plush robe. Some advil, snacks, I offer and fetch anything and everything I can to make this easier. Eventually, we make our way to bed. I can tell she is exhausted. We get comfortable and I think she is about to drift off to sleep when Lily looks up at me.
"I can beat her, Mike... I know I can.." Lily says her voice steady for the first time since the fight ended.
"I know you can, baby... You're smarter and more beautiful than her... she can't compete with you." I say giving her a hug. I hope that rematch doesn't happen.
"Thanks.... but you didn't say I was a better fighter.... you don't think I can beat her do you?" Her voice beginning to crack again.
My mind races to find something, anything to say to ease her anguish. One would think that after many successful years of advocating for others as a profession, I'd be somewhat competent at this. However, the truth is, that I don't want Lily to fight Kelli again. I don't know if she can beat her and I don't care. I just don't want her to get hurt like this again. She doesn't need to prove anything to me. I would always choose her.
"She got lucky tonight." I answer. Why can't I just say it- even if it's a lie? Lily's eyes narrow. I've known her long enough. She's perceptive. I know she thinks that I think Kelli would win. Maybe I do think that. I'm just glad she drops it and nuzzles up to my chest.
My wife drifts off finally and is sleeping peacefully, but my mind is racing. I replay the fight in my head. Guiltily, I let myself finally embrace the fantasy of having Kelli and Lily fight... and I have to admit, being the root cause of the whole thing is beyond a turn on. I'm conflicted as lust and compassion battle it out in my mind. I simultaneously want to see them fight again more than anything while also hoping the two never see each other again. Though, the look that Lily gave me before she went to sleep was unmistakable. It's not over between the two.
Great work again!
-
Shouldn't perhaps say this, because the last thing in the world I want to do is make an enemy of Kelli (what with me being her most loyal fan and all) but when the story's told from this angle, you sort of hope for a different result. I feel a bit sorry for Lily now. More than a bit sorry, in fact, which is strange because I've always rooted for Kelli in the past.
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Chapter 6: A Crazy Broad Named Kiva
by Major General (Ret) Peter J. Brockman
Original story: KFJ Chapter 3: Awakened https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=90742.0
Background: This story was an important step in my evolution as a fighter. In the first half, my husband and I are in a golfing foursome with an elderly retired General and his young wife, Kyong. The General and I did not see eye to eye. I found him to be an ignorant bigot. He tried my patience so badly that I snapped after the 18th hole. In the second half, Kyong and I have a catty wrestling match inside a sand bunker. Finally, the General gets to tell his side of the story….Oh,..and did I mention chapter 3 has a shower sex scene?
Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly agin'
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'
-Bob Dylan
My name is Major General Peter Brockman. I believe in God, family, and the U.S. of A. I’m dang 80 years old. Yes sir, I’ve been around a long time. I’ve been in Nam, the jungles of Nicaragua, Africa, Korea, all over the Middle East, even the Arctic where it was so damn cold, you had to pee quickly before your dick froze off. I’ve been shot at, dodged improvised explosive devices, been in three rollovers and survived it all. Yes sir, the good Lord must’ve taken a liking to me. I thought I had seen it all. That is, until I met this broad, a good-looking gal. Her name was Kiva.
It all started with a round of golf. You see, last year I went to the hospital having chest pain. Well, my ticker just flat out quit. A few more seconds and I’d have been standing at the Pearly Gates reaping my eternal reward. But the doctors thumped my chest, shot me full of electricity, and what do ya know, I came back. Then this cardiologist put this long thingamajig into my heart and cleaned out my pipes like a Roto-Rooter man. The son of a bitch saved my life and today, I’ve never felt better.
One thing you need to know about The General. I always return a favor. If you cross me, I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget. But I will always repay a kind deed. So when I heard this doctor wanted to raise money to buy this fancy robot gadget that could save more lives, I said, “You can count on the old General.” I’ve invested well. I made my money. Like my old man used to say, you come in the world buck nekkid and with nothin and you leave here taking nothin. So the doctor and I decided to talk over the particulars after a round of golf. As it turned out, we both had wives who like to golf so we made it a foursome.
I met my wife Kyong in a bar in South Korea where she was mud rasslin in a bikini. Well, I gotta tell you, the General has one weakness. I got a fondness for the ladies. She was such a cutie patooty and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. And there she was, rasslin in the mud. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t like the idea of women fighting in the military. I believe men should be men and ladies should be ladies. But nothing makes my pecker stand up like the sight of two dames rollin around tryin to get the better of each other. I’ll also admit, my track record in the matrimony department leaves a lot to be desired. I might as well tell ya I was divorced three times. But after I saw Kyong battling another woman in the mud, I said “This one’s a keeper.”
So, we married and came to the States. I retired and we settled down in Texas. Me and the missus joined a country club and we had a good life. She’s a young girl and wanted to experience all America had to offer. And me? Well, I had to face up to the fact that time catches up to all of us. You see, my one eyed Jack wasn’t standing to attention the way he used to. That’s why the Lord created Viagra. And one thing about Oriental women. They love to please their men. Kyong, knowing nothing gets me hornier than a horn toad like the sight of two chickaroonies going toe to toe, decided to take up rasslin and catfightin again. Next, we needed to find another honey to pair her up against.
So that brings us back to this Kiva doll. You see, she was the wife of this doctor who saved my life. So there we were, a golfing foursome: me, the doc, Kyong, and Kiva. And I’ll tell ya, our ladies were smokin. Kiva wore this leopard skirt showing off her nice piece of ass. And Kyong was in this sexy snakeskin outfit.
So, we were all having a nice time, playing golf and talking about good old fashion American values and what’s wrong with America today. And if you know the General, you know I’m not afraid to speak my mind. It’s clear what needs to be done. We can start by getting all the queers and fairies out of the military. We need to make it illegal for men changing into women and women changing into men. Hell, when I was in school, if a boy acted like a girl, you took him out in the yard and beat him up. Just to knock some sense into him. Well today, they take these people, what are they called? Trans? Well, they put them on TV and call them celebrities and everyone thinks they’re just wonderful. Do you think the North Koreans have queers in their military? Hell no. They think they can just lob bombs around because we’re too sissified to stand up to them. Now I’m not racist or anything like that. I think we should treat the coloreds fairly just like us regular people - provided they’re the well behavin kind.
So I’m explaining all of this to Kiva to try to teach her something and she looks at me like I got five eyeballs in my head. She gives me these funny looks and acts like she’s got a stick up her pretty rear. I should have known better. I found out she went to one of those New England schools run by liberals. You know, the ones that think they’re so smart and better than everyone else. They call it “higher education”. That’s the problem with liberal colleges. They teach women to think for themselves and the next thing you know, they’re getting all kinds of crazy ideas. If Kiva was my wife, I’d run her through boot camp just to knock the nonsense out of her head.
At the end of the front nine, the conversation changed. We started talking about girl fights and I told them about Kyong looking for an opponent. And the doc shocked the pants off me by saying that Kiva was also looking for someone to fight. Perfect! We got a match, or so I thought. I proposed the girls go at it at our house. Kiva was bigger but Kyong had some experience. We’d have a barbecue, a chick fight, I’d give the doc his donation check, we’d part as friends. Perfect plan, right? I thought so. But no, Miss Snot Nose ruins it by declining our challenge. Typical liberal. No bite. All talk but when it comes time to put up, they turn their tails and run.
I thought we’d just finish up the back nine and call it a day. The doc was a good guy but his wife had the personality of a potato, just standing around like a sourpuss. But man, the idea of my Kyong and Kiva settling their differences just wouldn’t get out of my head. And you know damn well the ladies were thinking about it too. I could see them comparing themselves, sizing each other up. And sure enough, they started getting testy with each other. That’s the way it is with females. Put a couple of good-lookin gals together, I guarantee ya, they’ll be eyeing each other up and down, playing their catty little games with each other, and soon enough the fur will be flyin. On the golf course, you could just see it in their body language. When the two of us were in our golf cart, Kyong would say, “She’s a bitch. I want to fight her. Could you pay her to fight me, Peter.” Once my little Asian doll gets fired up, look out.
Finally, we finished hole 18 and it was time to say goodbye. I shook hands with the doc and gave Kiva a friendly pat on the tush. And wouldn’t you know it, she jumps at me like a rattlesnake. She gets in my face and screams at me, calling me names, using these high falutin ten-dollar words that only liberals use. Now I know ladies get cranky at that time of the month but I never dealt with this before. Well, I just about dropped a load in my pants. I didn’t get to be a general for nothin. Nobody ever, and I mean NEVER, treated me like that before. If this crazy broad was in the military, I’d have her thrown into Leavenworth. Even now, if a man did that to me, surgeons would still be trying to extract my boot out of his rear.
But I know better. And I understand women like the back of my hand. You see, there was no point arguing with Kiva. She’s unteachable. It’s a scientific fact that women’s brains aren’t as well developed as men’s. They can’t reason. Their pretty little noggins get all blocked up with emotions and stuff like that and their thinking caps don’t work. They don’t know which way is up. So I just said goodbye and left it at that.
Just when I thought it was over, Kiva surprised me again. But that’s how women are, you see. They got all these lady hormones sloshin around inside em. They could be laughin one second and cryin the next. You just never know with them. Kiva said we could have our differences and still be friends. But I know how to read women. No sir, she wasn’t goin to put one over on the General. What she was really doing was apologizin and admitting she was completely wrong and ready to be submissive. You see, it’s all about reading between the lines. Women love to say one thing and mean another. So I accepted her apology. And then, thank the heavens above, Kiva accepted our offer to rassle Kyong. As soon as she said that, my Johnson rose to salute her. For a second, I thought I misplaced my putter in my pants. No Viagra needed. No sir.
So Tom the doc and Kiva came to our house the next day. Meanwhile, I decided on an arena. It was the sand bunker on the 18th hole. Yep, two sweetie pies rasslin in sand. Just like when I was in Tunisia. We called the bunker “the coffin” because it was deep and rectangular. The golf course closes on Mondays, so perfect. We drove the girls in our golf cart. The doc and I pulled up a couple of chairs on the edge of the bunker. I brought my liquor and we were set.
The girls stripped down to their bikinis. Their swimsuits were patterned like their golf outfits, leopard and snakeskin. Sexy as hell. Then, they removed their tops and decided to wrestle in their bare titties. I’ll admit my wife isn’t much in that department but she’s still a hottie. Soon as I saw these nearly nekkid beauties, my favorite officer, Major Wood, raised my flag to full mast again. Then, the ladies jumped inside the coffin and the match began.
Right away, my Kyong dominated, despite her size disadvantage. She took that liberal cupcake down several times and stretched her this way and that, twisting her and folding her up. Good. Although I accepted Kiva’s apology, I still wanted to see her punished. When a woman shoots off her yap and sasses a man like Kiva did, she needs to have her pride knocked down a few notches and learn her rightful place. She even complained that Kyong was cheating. That’s what liberals do, ya see. They make excuses and blame other people for their failures. And my honey was givin her a whoopin, teaching her a lesson.
It started out as a friendly rasslin match, but gals being gals, they got their dander up and next thing you know, they started swingin, kickin, and swearing at each other. I said just let em go. Once women get a bug in their panties, there’s nothin you can do about it. They need to settle it themselves. Finally, it looked like Kiva had enough. Kyong had her flat on her back, on top of her and gave her a good workin over. And I’ll tell ya, the sight of my little angel sitting on Miss Smarty Panties, beating discipline into her on behalf of The General, her proud little nipples standing up, gave me a feeling I haven’t felt since I was 14 years old and sneaked off to the barn with my old man’s girly magazines.
I figured Kiva by now took enough of a beating and smartened up enough to see the error of her ways. But then, out of nowhere, Kyong made a mistake. Well, that fruit loop Kiva took advantage, used her legs to flip my wife, sending her crashing into the side wall of sand. When her body slid down, Kiva covered her and wrapped her up for the pin. Over just like that. Damn.
I was very proud of Kyong and I gotta say I gained respect for Kiva. She might be flakier than a nut cake but I know a warrior when I see one. She was inexperienced and took a lickin but didn’t quit and prevailed. I like that. And anyone who works in an ICU is a hero in my book.
After the match, I comforted the missus and gave the doc his money. As for Kiva, despite our differences, we’re friends. She’s a good kid but she needs to learn the correct way to use her noodle. I’ll even say she might be right about a few things. I know people are touchy these days and I should be more considerate around womenfolk. Sometimes an old dog needs to learn to do things a little differently.
A few weeks after the match I saw Kiva at Billy’s Sports Bar and Fight Club gallivanting around without her husband, acting like a peahen in mating season. She even entered the Men’s Room yelling out she wanted a man. That’s what happens when a woman’s mind gets poisoned with liberal education. They call it sexual freedom. Well, for the rest of the night, I took her under my wing and kept her on a tight leash, and taught her how to act like a proper lady. Yes sir, she’s still a work in progress. But she’s getting there. She just needs good men to keep her on the right path.*
*This paragraph refers to an incident in chapter 4: Day of Reckoning
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WOW!!
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This is a fans view of Chapter 34, The Priestess. You may want to check out Fyrecracka's original.
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The first match is up to the standards of the Valkyrie Palace, Genevieve only hires talented fighters, The Alley Cat and Celtic Queen could be main eventers at most other clubs. The Celtic Queen comes out on top this time, the African American Alley Cat tried to make it a boxing match, but the redhead just flat out wrestled her. The end result is a win for the Celtic Queen.
I pick up the tablet provided by Genevieve, I correct myself, “I have to remember to call her Valkyrie here.” While not everywhere backstage, there are two places “Special Access” is granted as part of the entrance cost. The first is the Pre Fight Parlay.
It helps to know what’s on the line in a given match. That the next match is a Mask vs Mask only, makes sense. This is Lady Lonestar’s debut, and the Priestess has shown she’s tough, driven and willing to get rough, but never cruel or petty after matches. A good fit for a high end club like the Valkyrie Palace.
Lady Lonestar looks comfortable heading to the fight area, Valkyrie had a stroke of Genius giving the women masks, she took away everything else, but freed them in the process. The Priestess looks equally assured and comfortable strolling out naked, I wonder if they would be so without the masks, but I know the answer.
Checking the board above Valkyrie’s head, I get the tale of the tape info for both women. Missing is their age, but height, weight, bust size, record, well it would if Lady Lonestar had one. The Priestess is two and oh. Both of them stretch, throw warm up punches, the lights glittering off their masks and gloves.
The goddess herself, in mask and skin tight outfit makes the introductions. Valkyrie knows how to hype a fight and still draw attention to herself. The Mask is just enough to be plausible deniability for her. After getting the fans hyped and the online crowd ready Valkyrie climbs back up the steps to her throne.
I pass on betting on this fight. To be honest I never bet on the fights, I don’t want it clouding my enjoyment. Rooting for one fighter over another just because I have money on it, isn’t my thing. I prefer to watch these two beautiful women go at it.
As the match begins The Priestess shoots across the space and takes Lady Lonestar down to the green “Grass”. The tumble to the floor doesn’t seem to do any damage, of course the fans notice the bumping of mounds going on as the Hispanic and Blonde struggle. They catball for over a minute rolling back and forth. Grinding bits and pieces, pretty even start even if the Priestess is the aggressor. Then the breast work begins, the Priestess going after Lady Lonestar’s modest right breast, the blonde still squirming as their mounds still press together.
Lady Lonestar kicks the Priestess away, she took a bit of a beating before her escape, but knocking the Aztec Priestess on her ass was a good way to get back into the fight. Both women up and after tending to wounds they begin to circle and jaw at each other. WOW, Lady Lonestar catches the bronze skinned beauty coming in with a hook to the flanks that stops her cold. To her credit the Priestess doesn’t go down and even locks up with the blonde, neither can get a take down as they battle in close quarters.
There is a couple of minutes of the close quarters combat, slaps, punches, scratches given out to both women; they also toss some more insults at each other. Then it happens, the Priestess’s kitty defense drops and Lady Lonestar grips the kitty hard. It’s not good for the dark haired woman as it's 15-20 second of agony before they tumble down to the turf. That buys the blonde a bit of time to break down the brunette further. Kitty defense is a big deal in these fights, mostly its being able to twist their hips or swat an approaching hand. Lady Lonestar keeps the pressure on for nearly a minute, before the Priestess recovers to get back into the fight, the pair beginning catballing and rolling around on the turf.
The action continues, both able to attack the other’s orbs with success, Lady Lonestar’s B or C cups and the Priestess’s C-D cups are both taking a beating. The smaller endowed blonde gives up the tit battle first going for a choke, and the dark haired beauty returns in kind, I think they might both passout, but they break off to continue the battle.
First they drop to one hand chokes, each throwing punches with the freed hand. They lay on their sides for a bit, then together get to their knees, trade a few punches, up to one knee, trade a few punches, then stand and trade a few punches. Even from where I’m seated you can see the sweat rolling off their bodies, and the marks that cover most of their bodies.
Back to upright it looks like either woman could fall over, without the aid of further blows, but they fight on. CRAAACK! The blow was from the opposite side from where I was sitting, I think it was Lady Lonestar hitting the Priestess, but both women are down. It could have been the green masked woman hitting the Texas themed fighter. The rest of the crowd is shouting and screaming as I move forward on my seat and watch to see which woman moves first.
It’s only a few seconds, then Lady Lonestar does roll herself over and crawls on top of the brunette. The blonde goes breast to breast with the darker skinned woman before sitting up and moving herself up into a controlling school girl pin, her womanhood against the bare chin of the Priestess. It’s not looking good for the green and gold masked woman. It’s just a formality now, is the Priestess one of those women that can’t admit when beaten and ends up taking more punishment?
Lady Lonestar shouts, "Priestess.... do... you... surrender?"
I wonder if the blonde even realizes her hands are on the other woman’s tits, a reminder or threat maybe?
Then it looks like the Priestess is going to choose to be stubborn and probably get her Lady bits punished more, but then in a louder than I would have expected voice she says, "I... surrender.... to you.... Lady Lonestar..."
The crowd is roaring, many chanting, “Lady Lonestar!”
Thinking, I sum up the match like a football game, it was two evenly matched teams that both played good games, but Lady Lonestar got the big plays, the kitty clamp, and that last punch to the jaw were equivalent to long touchdown plays that just meant the end for the Priestess.
I don’t expect any real post match action, unless I’m totally wrong these two women respect each other. There doesn’t seem to be the rivalry or hate that leads to those post match antics. Sure enough after the nearly mandatory foot on the boobs thing, Valkyrie comes down and tosses the leash. It’s showy, but it's a thing here at the Valkyrie Palace.
I’m glad to see the Priestess get to her feet and walk out of the arena, she really has nothing to be ashamed of. The fans give both fighters a nice round of applause as they exit. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of both of them.
Post fight:
Picking up the tablet I hit the icon and now view the backstage area. The second place that special patrons get access to. Like the pre match parlay the post match can be very interesting.
The Priestess kneels in front of Lady Lonestar, I think, “yeah this is just going to be a straight exchange of the mask from loser to winner.”
Yeah it cost 500 dollar, but really that just comes out of the money the Priestess will make for this match. I know that will be well over the 500 dollars for the mask, so she’ll take home a bit less. Then I hear the brunette offer up her husband and herself rather than give up her mask. Did not see that coming, I wonder if this had not been her first match here would Lady Lonestar would accept either offer? I also wonder why the Priestess would be so protective of her mask, all the fighters at The Valkyrie Palace give up a mask now and then. Well except for Valkyrie herself.
The feed cuts out just as the brunette begins to unmask.
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Great addition, Bigfan877!
It always fun to see a story from a different perspective- and in this case, it's not just the fight, but the Valkyrie's Palace as well. I like how you stayed within what your character saw and knew. It was perfect! :)
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The Catpin Chronicles, Chapter 7: Breaking the Blonde
You can read the original story, Fyre's Fight Journal, Chapter 16: Kelli vs The Collector, here:
https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.30 (https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.30)
"Jerome, you did very well." I say out loud even though I'm the only one in my bedroom watching the camera as the couple walks up to my front door. Kelli and Jake Rose. Kelli is my blonde. I've made my through many types of women, but she is my first golden haired opponent. Watching my nude body move in the mirror, I walk over to my vanity to retrieve the dossier Jerome put together on Mrs. Rose.
"Thirty-nine years old... Same as me. Five foot five and one half inches, one hundred and thirty pounds... she's an inch and half shorter and five pounds lighter.... close enough..a fair fight" I flip through the pictures that Jerome got from her posted fights off of the 'Catpin' website. I study her body and compare it to mine as I look in the oversized mirror.
We are built very much alike. My shoulders are slightly broader, her hips slightly wider. Our breasts are similar, mine might be a little bigger. She is a pretty woman, a little unrefined but still pretty. She fights like that, too. Scrappy and tough, where I fight focused and disciplined. She takes a lot of damage but dishes out just as much. Stylistically the opposite of me other than we both seem to draw strength from our emotions.
I think what it will be like to see her light skin pressing and twisting against mine with my much darker complexion. My nipples stiffen at the thought. I scowl. It disgusts me that some of my opponents turn me on. Just more motivation for me to dominate this one and prove I am better than her. I continue to study the dossier. Twelve wins and three losses. She may have more wins, but I'm undefeated. I pull on the bright, white bikini bottoms with my name embroidered on them and look in the mirror one more time. "Weak ass whore won't know what hit her." I say out loud.
Next, I pull the matching white silk robe over my shoulders. "Get in her head... dominate this... blonde... bitch..." I say, reciting my game plan as I throw punches in the mirror with my best intimidating stare looking back at me. "There's no way... some... fucking... housewife... from the ... fucking... suburbs... can compete with me.." I growl, pulling my gloves on and tightening them down. "I bet saying something about her husband will get under her skin... I have to remember to do that." I begin to make my way towards the gym and my private ring.
I step through the door into my private gym, making my grand entrance. Immediately, the heads of Jerome, Jake and Kelli whip around to see me. I confidently strut towards the group. Mrs. Rose's eyes are studying me with every step. Sizing me up like a true Catpin veteran. This woman gives the impression that she is definitely a fighter.
With her only a few feet in front of me, I get my first chance to really weigh and measure my blonde. After seeing her in person, I have no doubt this woman can fight but I also have no doubt that the black bikini bottoms will be tacked up next to her picture when she leaves tonight.
Game on, bitch. I slip out of my robe right in front of the blonde before rolling into the ring and beckoning for my prey to do the same. Kelli rolls into the ring and saunters to the middle of the ring until we are nearly nose to nose and tit to tit. My, my, she is feisty- and unintimidated. She must have earned the 'Fyrecracka' moniker.
We are locked in an intense stare down, dressed in only our fight attire of the monogrammed bikini bottoms and MMA gloves- hers black, mine white. I can't help but notice she is even prettier in person than she is in the photographs.
Long, straight blonde hair. Check. Contrasts perfectly with my shoulder length, naturally curly black locks. Her skin almost too tan but still, clearly, white and much lighter than my rich, dark, ebony coloring. Her eyes, while matching mine in intensity, are brown. Jerome knew I wanted blue eyes on my opponent.
"Jerome, she has brown eyes... I wanted blue ....but otherwise, very good job...even if she does have a couple of losses" I say in a businesslike manner. Jerome actually did a great job but I don't want him getting complacent. He is very well compensated, after all. Not to mention, I'm sure my overly icy demeanor and bringing up her losses has to be intimidating to the smaller blonde.
"You'll be the one gettin' the loss tonight, stuck up bitch!" The slender white woman barks, closing the distance between us to the point I can smell her skin. I must admit, I am delightfully impressed at this woman's courage... or delusion. She may prove to be a challenge. I truly hope that is the case. I feel my nipples tighten to a diamond like hardness. No doubt another sign of my attraction to this woman. I bristle at that realization.
I half smile, half smirk at her remark. "Did you pluck her straight from the trailer park, Jerome? Correcting her little.... attitude problem will be a bonus." I snap to Jerome still refusing to even acknowledge the blonde out of purposeful disrespect and a desire to tamp down the dreadful sexual urges that she keeps stirring in me.
"Shutting your big mouth will be a bonus for me!" She growls back. This woman is fearless and I can tell she is nearly to the point she wants to sink her fingers into my hair. Good. I want her fighting on pure emotion.
It's time, I think to myself. I don't want a match or a bout with Kelli, I want to fight her. To test her- and myself. To find out which of us is the superior woman. One more good barb should send her over the edge. I look her husband up and down before turning my attention to her for the first time.
"Is that your husband?" I ask rhetorically. He is quite a brute and looks like he would be a great fuck. Not to mention he does have blue eyes. Too bad, I didn't think of that before, but just the thought of it should suffice for my purposes tonight. "It's a shame I'm finished having children. We could have made an interesting wager. He looks like he would have given me a strong child....oh well, reminding you that you're just a piece of trash compared to me will have to do."
As soon as the last word leaves my lips, Kelli loses it and lunges at me. I feel the familiar searing pain in my scalp as the woman yanks my hair with all of the rage I have been stoking. I hear myself scream from the pain and as I retaliate in kind, I hear Kelli's shrieks as they add to the cacophony of the newly born battle. We use each other's hair as a weapon. Slinging one another around the ring violently, trying to gain leverage and control... dominance... over our rival. The blonde has proven to be my equal thus far and we begin to curse each other with every hurtful word we can think of, hoping to gain the slightest advantage in order to break this painful stalemate.
Locked in this tortuous clinch, with our scalps burning and the frustrations mounting, we both begin wildly flinging punches, dragging nails across bare flesh- anything to get the other woman onto the canvas. Neither of us are able to achieve our goal and the frenetic pace with which we started gives way to a slower and more grinding one. We wrap our arms around the other woman and soon our bare chests as pressed tightly together in a mutual bear hug.
The blonde and I squeeze and press, our bodies now drenched in perspiration and shining beneath the lights from the exertion in the first several minutes of this fight. We each try to push the other woman towards a turnbuckle. The struggle becomes about imposing our physical will onto the other woman and our hands find each other's hair once more as we seek to cause more pain.
We are plodding around the ring. Back and forth we go. Every time I begin to move the smaller blonde backwards, she growls and rallies. Pushing me backwards. We are cinched in so tightly now that I can feel her heart beating against my chest, our hard nipples dueling, slipping and sliding past one another as we strain. Again, I find myself having to focus on fighting this woman as, now, her fiery determination is turning me on as much as her appearance.
Even that helps to refocus me. Defeating this woman, making her submit to me, bend her to my will- to my superior body. Those thoughts kindle my lust even more and I find more strength. The blonde begins to fade. Slowly, I begin to impose my will. Step by step, I force her backwards. She gives me nothing, but try as she might, she can't stop me. As I press her back into a turnbuckle, both of us know that I am stronger.
I keep her trapped in the corner and begin unload gloved fist after gloved fist into the pretty blonde's flat belly and ribs. For the first time in this fight, I'm hurting her- badly. She tries to cling to my hair and pull us in close but I've got her know. My punches are rocking her ribs almost rhythmically causing her moans and groans to almost sound sexual. It excites me. That's right, blonde whore, you're mine now. I push off of her to create enough space to send a knee crashing into her stomach. She collapses into a heap on the canvas. Her forehead pressed into the canvas and her ass in the air as she gasps for air. Mrs. Rose, you were a worthy adversary, but I own you now, bitch.
I remember what this bitch said to me before the fight started and I smirk as I look at her now. "What were you gonna do, bitch?!" I bark, my emotions causing me to speak faster than my normally controlled, calculating cadence. I watch the blonde struggle to force oxygen into her lungs for a moment before continuing. "Such a big mouth for such a weak, cxnt." I mock strutting proudly around the ring. I feel dominant. This woman hasn't made it easy, but now she is like all of the others. Kelli crawls out of the corner, her determination exceeding her sense. I see it in her eyes, she wants to make me pay for my cockiness. I motion to the downed woman "Get up, whore.... we're not done!" I command. If this dumb bitch wants more, I'll fucking give it to her.
I watch patiently as the battered beauty crawls up the ropes and staggers to her feet across from me. Her eyes are wild and rage filled. "Bitch!" Kelli shrieks, launching herself at me with her claws bared. Just as she touches my hair, my knuckles bury deep into her belly. Her eyes bulge, her mouth gapes, her knees buckle as she is stopped in her tracks, stunned by another one of my body blows.
The white woman is frozen, nearly paralyzed by the shot to her midsection. I follow up with a quick left hook and another right to her exposed chin that sends her bouncing off of the ropes. I fire a hard right hook as she rebounds back towards me, catching her right in the jaw and she spirals on her way down to the canvas. That should fucking do it.
The blonde's eyes are glassy, fluttering and staring at the lights as I stand over her. I watch my foe for a few seconds. She writhes slowly on her back nearly unconscious after that last combination. I drop onto the downed woman, straddling her belly. I grind the side of her face into the canvas with palm of my hand, pinning her head to the floor in the process.
"What was that about shutting my big mouth, bitch?" I snarl angrily, pressing down until the pain has the blonde prying helplessly at my hand. It's clear to me this bitch doesn't have anything left.
"Let... me... up... cxnt..." she moans out in pain desperation as she continues to try to free her face from being crushed into the canvas.
Really, cxnt? You want me to let you up? I think to myself. If that's what you want... I push off of the woman roughly as I get back to my feet. I stomp the fool's stomach once more for good measure before backing off.
"There you go....you weak, blonde whore... now what... you gonna shut my mouth, now?" I taunt, motioning for her to get up again.
Kelli rolls to her belly and starts trying to get up, stalling on her hands and knees before I've seen enough and impatiently latch onto the woman's yellow hair, yanking her to her feet as she moans in pain. I hold her upright with my knuckles deep into her mane and twist until her face is forced to meet mine, eye to eye.
"Time to take out the trash..." I sneer. The woman's eyes are still wild and unconquered. This fucking bitch, doesn't know when to bow down. To make matters worse, her insolence is driving me to a level of arousal I had not expected.
The blonde takes advantage of my distraction and hurls a reckless haymaker towards my face. I get my arm up just in the nick of time and her fist crashes into my elbow. "You dumb bitch.... I was just to about let you off easy... now, I'm gonna hurt you." I shriek in a lie, before send a hard right hand into her belly. I was never going to take it easy on her. This just justifies it some.
She doubles over and nearly falls back to the canvas but for my grip on her sweat soaked hair. I let out a primal scream and sling the defiant bitch into another turnbuckle. Kelli is hanging on the ropes still hatefully glaring at me but her body has betrayed her and refuses to fight back. I drape her arms over the top rope, leaving her to hang defenselessly.
I grab the smaller white woman's chin, squeezing until she moans in agony as I force her eyes to meet mine once more. "I was right.... you're nothing but trash....pity... I had hoped for..... more" I taunt as arrogantly as I can to mask my arousal at the woman's refusal to bend to my will.
My fingers tighten their grip around the pale woman's chin again and I use the leverage to push her head over the turnbuckle, leaving her throat, tits and belly completely exposed and at my mercy. Unfortunately for Mrs. Rose any mercy I may have had has been overtaken by the overwhelming feeling of sexual superiority I feel as I continue to dominate this tough and rebellious.... and irritatingly beautiful, bitch.
My skin is tingling with excitement as I begin to tortuously tear into Kelli's tits. She screams in pain as my claws dig into her soft, white flesh. She howls in agony as I slap her small but perky, breasts until they are bright red. I can feel my body, flushing and the urges to do ... more... to this woman become too strong- and it fucking disgusts me. I grab her matted hair again and sling her, dismissively, back to the canvas.
The blonde lands on her stomach and slowly begins to try to crawl towards the ropes. I casually stalk the white woman. Closing in on her until she is beneath me, I loom over her as I contemplate what to do next to my newest plaything. Pathetically, she tries to scurry away.
I kneel down on the canvas and sit next to her. This bitch need to be broken and shown her position. I stroke her hair a few times before seizing her golden locks and pulling her head tightly between my thighs until her chin is rubbing against my rapidly swelling womanhood. We are lying on our sides now. I stare into the trapped woman's brown eyes as she claws and pries against my thighs, squirming and wriggling as she weakly tries to escape the hold. I have been able to force some tears out but she still has that same unconquerable look in her eyes.
I begin to squeeze her head with my thighs. She grunts and groans, her hot, wet breath isn't why my bikini bottoms are now soaked. Well, maybe that is why. This fucking bitch.
I squeeze harder and harder, watching the pretty woman's face turn varying shades of red, spittle and drool fall from her lips and pool on my inner thigh while she struggles to breathe and resist my powerful ebony pythons. "Give up, say it! You weak bitch...." I hiss with hate filled lust. Why do you make me do this to you? You know I am better. Just say it. Just tell me. I think while I continue to add pressure.
The blonde's eyes flash with determination as if she heard my thoughts. "Fuck... you... Candace..." Kelli grunts out. The beautiful little dumbass. I should go ahead and send you to dreamland. I tighten my hold and see her squirm. Her eyes say she is embracing the encroaching darkness. You are beaten, cxnt. I beat you. Her body gives up and goes limp. Only her defiant eyes, still locked with mine are still fighting. Fine, bitch. That's how you want it. I'll be the last thing you see. Wait ....that would be too easy. I relax my legs. No, Kelli, you will break. You must break.
"No... no... cxnt, you're not getting off that easy.... you're gonna have to tell me that you quit..." I whisper icily as I release the hold. The blonde's face falls to the canvas. She lies on her stomach, her body trembling as air rushes back into her lungs, but otherwise motionless.
I take my time rising to my knees before I grab the light skinned woman's hair and bottoms, forcing her onto her back. The blonde bitch is still trying to deny me, and her hands come after me. She is too weak now and her grip on my tit is more like that of a lover's than a foe's. I casually knock her hands away, and pin them beneath my shins as I settle on top of her in a schoolgirl mount.
Looking down at the pretty blonde's face, her make up smeared and smudged, trapped between my thighs exhilarates and titillates me. "Say it, whore!" I command before I pull the woman's face into my crotch. Kelli bucks and writhes in futility as I grind my womanhood against her mouth. Oh fuck, this feels so fucking good. I feel myself being overwhelmed with familiar primal urges and nearly forget to let go of her head when she becomes still again.
Holding the white woman's head by her disheveled blonde hair, I force her to look at me. "You gonna say it, cxnt? ....or do you want more?" I growl, my hands twisting her hair to reinforce the hopelessness of her situation, before dropping her head back to the canvas and waiting for her answer.
"Go... to... hell.... bit-" Kelli groans out until I cut her off with a hard fist into her belly. The nerve of this insolent whore.
"If that's what the piece of trash wants....that's what she gets" I say before unleashing a brutal barrage of belly blows that turn the blonde into a sobbing mess. "Had enough, trailer trash?.... or should I keep going?" I ask her again.
I stare down at Kelli Rose, her pretty face now swollen and flushed from crying and struggling to breathe for the last ten or so minutes. Her visage is that of completely beaten and conquered woman, but in her eyes, the defiance is still there, burning as strong as ever. Stupid cxnt. Why do you make me do this to you? Why do you do this to me?
With our eyes locked, I can't deny myself any longer. This woman, her infernal refusal to accept her inferiority, her place beneath me, sends me over the edge. I pull Kelli's face into my bikini clad womanhood once more.
This time, there's no stopping. I grind and ride the woman's face. She squirms, wriggles and weakly resists as I feel myself building towards climax. This fucking bitch has caused this. I could only repress it for so long. This is all her fault. I can hear my moans as they echo off the walls. My breathing has become rapid and ragged. Kelli, why did you make me do this? I think, my mind is becoming a raging storm of emotions and urges. I feel my body trembling and quivering, I am losing control.
Unable to resist any longer, I pull my bottoms to the side. I grind my bare pussy on the woman's mouth. "Taste me... you... stubborn... bitch.... just... remember... you ...wanted ... this".
It's too much. The feel of her sweaty, wet, warm lips pressed against my skin sends wave after wave of pleasure radiating through my entire body. Fuck you, Kelli Rose....Fuck your pretty face.... Fuck your athletic and sexy body... Fuck... your.... defiance.... I think internally even though I am only able to make the primal, base sounds of an hedonistic whore overcome with the thrill of this dirty, sinful act.
"I .... give... I... fuc.... king... quit" I hear the blonde whisper in between the moments when her mouth isn't being smothered by my superior sex. She has broken. Her admission shatters the last of my resistance to the deviance inside me and feel myself being gripped by an intense orgasm. My fingers clutch her hair, pulling her face into me. Every cell of my skin is a live wire of sensitivity. I can feel everything as my body quivers and jerks throughout what has to be the most incredible orgasm I've ever had.
I nearly pass out from the experience, my body completely relaxing to the point I am only able to breathe... and that's just barely. Did this bitch just do THAT to me. This can't happen. I am better than her. She can't make me feel like... like... this! I think to myself as the effects of the orgasm still hit me like the aftershocks from a record setting earthquake. She... does... not... get... to... break... me.
"What was that, bitch?!" I growl. I have to regain control here. I shake enough of the euphoric haze from my mind to focus on keeping the blonde pinned beneath me. I can't let her know what she just did to me.
"I quit... you win.... I give up.... please stop..." Kelli whispers again, now sobbing. My mind tries to process the scene as I sit atop her chest. The blonde looks completely destroyed. She is crying. She has admitted defeat. Why don't I feel like I won.
"Say it... louder.... make your husband hear how pathetic and weak you are... do it... or else..." I demand of her. I feel disgusted with myself as the feelings from the orgasm finally ebb and my rational mind is able to seize control once more. The woman's eyes, though puffy and swollen- now finally devoid of their earlier unshakable defiance, still feel like they can see inside me. I reach back, dragging my nails along her skin until I reach her bikini covered pussy. I dig my nails in slightly to make sure she does as she's told.
Without hesitation, the blonde's trembling voice blurts out ".... you win... I give .... I'm a weak a pathetic piece of trash.." as fast as she can.
I finally let out a sigh of relief. She doesn't know. "That's more like it.... now you know you're place, slut" I say, my confidence returning. I proudly rise to my feet. I lean over and peer into the woman's brown eyes. "Now ... one ... more ... thing." I snap, mockingly slapping the blonde across her face with every word. She remains docile... defeated.... broken. Lightly dragging my nails down the length of her body until I find the waistband of her bikini bottoms. I yank and tug, disrespectfully pulling the garment from her body, leaving her nude but for the fingerless gloves she's wearing.
I stand up again and put the sole of my foot on the woman's face, making sure to haughtily rub it in as I strike my victory pose. I become aware of Jerome on the ring apron diligently snapping photographs of me and the beaten blonde to immortalize the moment.
"Jerome... please take out the trash... then meet me in my bedroom." I command. I roll out of the ring. I stop in front of Kelli's husband.
The big man gives off an air that he would be a thoroughbred during sex. "You're more than welcome to join us..." I say, wanting to take something else from the woman. Jake shakes his head emphatically, but the outline of his hard cock in his jeans halfway down his inner thigh says otherwise. It seems Ol' Jake here, is not only hung but also likes dominant women.
He catches me looking at his bulge. My coffee brown eyes meet his blue ones. There's a mix of emotion going on behind them. I have no doubt he would fuck the living hell out of me right now if given the chance. "Well... that is... a... shame..." I say with a seductive smile, putting my finger to his lips. "Maybe next time.." I whisper in his ear on my way to retrieve my robe from a hook on one of the ring posts. I make sure to let him get a good view of my nearly nude body as I slip my robe back on and strut out of the room just as proudly as I did when I entered it.
Back in my wing of the house I start my shower, but turn it off. No, I know Jerome loves defeated women, why not let him smell and taste the blonde on my skin as he makes love to me tonight? I know I will be thinking of Kelli's husband when I'm fucking him... and I definitely know that Jake will be imagining me the next time he is inside her. I know I should be ashamed of and disgusted by even thinking about these sins. I know it's wrong. It could be dangerous and destructive for any of us to have thoughts like this. Though some reason, after my fight with Kelli tonight, I am at ease with them...
I am not sure what that means, but I do know that I will need to fight Kelli Rose again some day... to defeat her once more... to take more from her... to see if she is the one that can actually break me.
-
Aw, Kelli! My poor baby! Too brave (and too beautiful) for your own good!
-
From her cold, calculating fighting style, to her arrogant sophisticated demeanor, to her mixing of sexual pleasure with dishing out punishment, to her perverse “collection,” Candace is perhaps the most beguiling and haunting character in the catpin world. It was interesting to hear her own words. She didn’t reveal a whole lot, so she’s still an enigma who will keep us wanting to come back to her again.
-
You don't expect fantasy fiction to contain much truth, yet this story does. Plenty of people – and I don't just mean forum readers or even fighters and fight fans – will recognize something of themselves in Candace. You can read thousands of pages of psychobabble that sounds plausible but contains not a grain of truth. This, on the other hand, hits the nail on the head – without appearing even to take aim.
Candace presents herself to the world as arrogant, embittered and full of anger. The stock assumption would be that she had an inferiority complex, that she was deeply unsatisfied with her life, that she had an almighty chip on her shoulder, and that she was seeking to avenge or purge some real or imagined past abuse – including, but obviously going way beyond, racial discrimination.
Yet when the story is told here through her eyes, it turns out that none of that is true. Or necessarily true. She is neither arrogant, nor bitter, nor full of anger. All that is a pose to rile Kelli and a smokescreen to conceal her true motivation but nothing more. The truth is far simpler: she's addicted to fighting or, more broadly, to demonstrating to those who think they are better than she is at what they both do best that they are wrong. This is undoubtedly cruel, but there are people – most obviously, but not only, champions of both sexes in every variety of sport – but people of all ages and in all walks of life who are cruel in just the same way, and though the manner in which their cruelty manifests itself may take a thousand forms, all go to exactly the same lengths to conceal it – because they are ashamed of, or unashamed but embarrassed by, their feelings.
Candace is neither ashamed nor embarrassed by her cruelty – only by the fact that she is sexually attracted to her opponent. Most of us would say that's nothing to be ashamed of. She seems to feel otherwise. If she were turned on by making men cry, presumably, she'd be less conflicted. I don't see why.
But arrogant? Not at all. She's confident from the start that she has the beating of Kelli as a fighter and she's right (sorry, Kelli, but you scarcely laid a glove on her!), but she recognizes and admires the qualities (primarily the courage and the physical beauty) of her rival, which no person with an inferiority complex, the source of most arrogance, would ever do. She feels neither contempt nor at any stage even anger towards Kelli. Her feelings are closer to love than to hatred. She's incredibly turned on by breaking such a feisty opponent but she's intelligent and generous enough to recognize that the only proper response on her part is gratitude.
Sure, she tries to twist the knife at the end by poaching Kelli's husband – poor thing, she can't help herself; it's her nature – but I'd be willing to bet that if some catastrophe befell Kelli or her family – let's say financial – and she could help, she wouldn't hesitate to pay that debt of gratitude. And with interest.
-
Catpin Chronicles, Chapter 8: The Priestess
You can read the original story, Fyre's Fight Journal, Chapter 34: The Priestess, here:
https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.180 (https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.180)
I manage to make into my office and look around to see that there's no one other than my administrative assistant, Janelle, around before slamming the door and blurting out "Fucking Lily Graham... the fucking bitch..."
The 50ish year old auburn haired woman's eyebrow goes up to form a peak over her blue eyes. "She's still doing everything she can to gum up the gears of justice, eh?" She quips.
"I know the court system is 'adversarial', but.... fuck..." My voice trailing off searching in vain for the proper words to describe my aggravation.
"What's her deal, anyway? She's been causing you headaches for a good six months now." My admin says.
"Who the fu... I mean, who the hell knows?" I say, starting to compose myself. "Mike must not be giving her enough cock." I chuckle at my own statement.
"Sounds like she needs to be dicked down or beat down." A smiling Janelle interjects. She always goes right to fighting or fucking. Which is one of the reasons I hired her in the first place. After all, any woman that would wear a Catpin to a job interview is gutsy enough to get my attention. Though, Janelle prefers to mix the two. As I found out when her interview took the predictable turn. She continues, "Which reminds me, this came for you while you were out."
She hands me an overly ornate envelope that can only be one thing- an invite from The Valkyrie. My mood instantly changes and I completely forget about Lily Graham and her nonsense. "This is exactly what I needed!" I say, smiling for the first time since I kissed my kids and husband before heading off to my job as the country district attorney this morning. "Shall we retire to my office and see what whose ass I'll be kicking?"
Janelle and I make our way to my desk and open the envelope.
"Dear Priestess, I am pleased to offer you another opportunity to fight at the Valkyrie's Palace. I have deemed you and your opponent to be apparent equals and will be excited to learn which of you is the better woman. As usual, I have included a small bio of pertinent information on your opponent to assist in your decision. Of course, she has received a similar one with your information. You have 2 days to accept or decline the offer. Hopefully, I'll see you on The Battlefield this weekend." The letter was signed "The Valkyrie".
"Look, Lettie... she's a rookie.." Janelle points out, looking at the small biography included in offer showing that this will be this Lady Lonestar's first battle at the Palace.
"I've only had two fights there myself..." I state about my record at the Palace as I study the pictures of the blonde woman in the red, white and blue mask with the Texas motif and blue bikini. "Plus... look at her eyes. My guess is that she's been in plenty of fights.... or she's an actress of some sort."
"Always a strong possibility from what you told me about that place and it wouldn't be the first for you, would it?" Janelle chirps, reminding me of my first match in the palace when I unmasked a fairly well known, if fading, actress after a brutal fight.
"She's a couple inches taller, five pounds lighter and we're both 39.... damn close." I say, still reviewing Lady Lonestar's bio.
"Yeah... but you have bigger and better tits!" Janelle says with a sly smile. My eyes feign outrage and she continues, "what can I say? I still have fond memories of you using them to make me submit during my interview!" We both laugh at that one.
I check my schedule. Then, accept the offer. I spend the next few days studying the pictures of my opponent and practicing against Janelle. When the night arrives, I know I'm ready.
I stand ready in my changing suite staring at my mask. The shiny emerald green covering with a gold "Aztec" style eagle on the front with red accents stares back while my husband massages my shoulders and tells me how much seeing me fight turns him on. I look my nude body over in the mirror as his powerful hands methodically and diligently caress my muscles- along with paying some attention to my fun parts. "You are absolutely stunning, mi amor.... my Priestess." Francisco whispers into my ear.
Originally, that's how I got into fighting. Coming from a well to do family and knowing I was destined to live a very public life as an attorney with political aspirations, I made sure to stay far away from the more primitive way of settling conflicts. As soon as Francisco introduced me to the idea and the whole Catpin culture, I knew I wanted to experience the potential highs and lows, the possibilities of conquering another woman or being humiliated by her. Deep down, I knew I was born for this. I've often wondered if all of us have this desire or just some women like me. Whatever the case, I do know that in the few short months since I've come to the Palace, all of those emotions have been turned up exponentially compared to the arranged fights or even the Catpin fights I was accustomed to.
I pull my mask on and he laces it up. For the next several minutes we stare at ourselves in the mirror. Francisco always dresses or, in this case, undresses to match me. I allow myself to soak in the image of my husband's muscular body. While the bulk of my enjoyment comes from actually fighting, I would be lying if I said I didn't get an almost equal amount from the overt sexiness of it as well. Everything from the way it effects my husband to the knowledge that I am one of the two most important women in the world to the men watching me fight.. at least, for the duration of the bout.
That is quite a turn on. I catch myself moaning as my mind wanders when my husband lips find my neck, his hands grip my tits and I feel his cock against my back. In fact, about the only thing hotter to me is when he and I take on another couple. I can only imagine how sexy it would be if the Valkyrie ever expands to couples.
"Soon... my love, but first..." My voice trails off and I force my mind back to thinking of the woman that I will be my opponent tonight. We are similar in size and age, but built differently. Her body is what I would describe as 'cute'. She has smaller, but perky breasts, she is a little leaner, but with hips and an ass. Not as big as mine but big enough to suggest that she is also a mother. Her legs look strong but not as muscular as mine- from my experience, few women our size can match me there and that's why I haven't lost many fights.
I hear a knock on the door and a few minutes later I am outside the room where my opponent and I will engage in the 'Prefight Parlay'. So far, I haven't wagered anything before the fight. I wonder if this blonde will want anything. My handler informs me that it's time. I guess I'm about to find out.
The door opens and I walk in. She matches my confident strut to the painted stripe marking the floor where we will stand during the parlay. Now, only a foot apart from my nearly nude foe, I am able to get a real feel for the woman. Sizing her up in the flesh rather than a photo. My initial impression from her photos seems spot on. Though, I think my physical size and strength advantages aren't as big as I thought. We may be more equal than I had expected but I've been on the Valkyrie's Battlefield before. That will count for something.
"Ladies... this is the Prefight Parlay... would you like to propose any stakes before the match?" One of the handlers says, but I'm already too focused on the stare down with the brown eyed blonde to notice which of the interchangeable women spoke. Even though the intensity in her eyes says she'll be tough, I just know I am going to beat her tonight and collect my third mask. I feel it in my bones.
I continue the stare down until my opponent feels compelled to speak first and break the uneasy silence. "Taking her mask is all I care about." My power play worked. It might mean nothing but I might have just intimidated her.
"All I care about is hurting you, bitch.... The mask is a nice bonus. I agree... masks only." I retort coldly, never breaking eye contact. As we stare at one another, I cannot deny that there is something about the way this Lady Lonestar carries herself that makes me feel like I have to fight her. It isn't out of hate or jealousy or for any of the other myriad of reasons I've fought other women. This is more like there is some cosmic question that is demanding a simple answer to which of us is the better woman.
Our unblinking glares are finally interrupted when the blonde's handler says "It's time, ladies... let's go... you'll settle it out there." We leave through the opposing doors that we entered through. I wait outside the curtain for my cue. Then, burst through the curtain and into the bright lights of the battlefield.
This being my third time through those curtains, I have to admit that it is still one of the biggest 'rushes' I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing. The knowledge that many of the most influential and powerful people in the area have their eyes and their focus glued to me. Beyond the crowd, there's the fact that once I step into that spotlight, there's no going back. I will be in a fight with an equal. We will hurt each other. One of us will be rewarded with everything that comes with a win here while the other will be punished by not only the having been defeated in the nude in front of this crowd but then to have her mask, her secret identity taken from her by a better woman.
I begin throwing punches to warm up as I walk down the white sandy path to the artificial grass of the battlefield, the bright light sparkling off of my glittering emerald green gloves. I assume the same could be said for my green and gold mask, though I can't see it. My eyes are fixed on blonde bouncing down her path to meet me. I don't even check the few stats scrolling beneath her picture on the large screens of the arena. I don't need to. My trial prep is finished. It. Is. Time.
When Lady Lonestar and I reach our marks on the Battlefield, the Valkyrie, dressed in her bright, shimmering white and gold bodysuit and ornate mask, descends from her throne to introduce my rival and I.
She walks around the blonde and I, extolling our virtues as fighters while deftly compelling the wealthy patrons to place their bets on which of us they believe will be proved to be superior tonight.
The powerful, in every sense of the word, heiress finishes, "Ladies and gentlemen, you have until I get back to my throne to lock in your bets... it should be a hell of a fight.... Priestess.... Lady Lonestar.... get ready to battle.." The Valkyrie says as she turns to leave the battlefield.
Time seems to stand still while she makes her way back to her throne and I stare into the brown eyes of the woman in front of me. Neither of us say a word. The time for any games or bullshit has passed. We are seconds away from combat. It's all that's left.
The gong sounds and everything else disappears. Lady Lonestar steps laterally, not expecting the pure, raw aggression I unleash with a shriek as I charge her.
My bronze skinned body collides with hers, my momentum driving her backwards and down to the ground. Taking her to the turf, I furiously try to pin the lighter skinned woman on her back and crawl up her body for a mount, but she is able to trap one of my legs.
Lady Lonestar and I strain against each other for a few moments, our bodies in line. The roar of the crowd predictably building when the see our bare pussies lock and grinding together for the first time.
Try as I might, I can't free my leg and quickly transition to my next attack. I dig my finely manicured nails into the blonde's right tit. She lets out a rewarding, yet bloodcurdling, scream as I twist and knead the vulnerable flesh of the woman's smaller breasts. I'm on her now and begin slamming my knuckles into her ribs and flanks. This bitch is mine.
I can feel the pinned woman's nails digging into the skin of my hand, trying frantically to remove my claws from her chest. During our struggle, she is able to get her foot in position to deliver a stiff kick into my lower stomach. I land on my ass with a thud on the artificial grass.
In a flash, both of us are back on our feet. I allow a self satisfied smirk to cross my lips when I see the sweaty blonde massaging her mauled tit.
Rage flashes in her brown eyes. "Bitch... you'll fucking... pay for that!" Lady Lonestar snarls, venom dripping from every word.
"You sure have a big mouth.... for a woman that is ... getting her ass kicked!" I snap back before aggressively charging the woman again, trying to maintain my advantage and keep the pressure on my opponent.
A hard body blow stops me in my tracks. Dammit, that hurt. The blonde packs a punch, I'll give her that but she can't follow up with another. We stare at one another for fraction of a second before we launch ourselves at one another. Naked bodies colliding in a twisted symphony of shrieks and groans as we dig our talons into each other's skin and yank the other woman's ponytail.
Initially, we plod around the battlefield but as our standing catball becomes more violent and desperate, we twirl and swing around the fake grass. The instinctive and primitive fight to hurt and gain control of the other woman by any means necessary has the crowd roaring now, drowning out the sounds of our bodies slamming into one another, the whimpers and the groans from our fight.
Soon we forget about the hair pulling and only focus on clawing, slapping and punching our adversary. Our shrieking curses are the only thing louder than the crowd at this point. "Fucking... blonde whore... Your mask is mine!" I wail as I fight harder and more furiously than I ever have. stinging Lady Lonestar's ribs and flanks with slaps and punches with one hand while still managing to keep my talons latched on her breast.
"Fuck you! ... filthy brown haired... twat!" Lonestar barks moments before I feel one of her hands clamp around my throat. Nanoseconds later, my eyes widen as her other hand digs into my bare, unprotected pussy. I hear myself let out an otherworldly scream as the pain sears through my nether regions.
Off balance from the savage bitch's assault on my womanhood, we tumble to the turf, talons still latched on the other woman. Lady Lonestar lands on top but as soon as we hit, I buck and twist wildly sending us back into a catball.
Back and forth we go across the fake grass. Our minds have gone feral now. I only exist to hurt this woman, to defeat her, to conquer her. From the wild look in her eyes, I can tell the white woman is in the same state.
Tooth and nail, I battle the blonde. We scream obscenities at each other as we scratch, bite and claw our way on top of the other woman only to have our positions reverse. The scenario repeats over and over. We are both exhausted and hurting and every pin seems like it might be the one that finishes the woman on bottom, but we neither of us is willing to sacrifice our mask and pride to end our suffering and somehow we both keep finding a way to escape.
Our catball begins to slow and stall. With our stamina and resilience withering, our attacks start to focus on each other's tits. I can hear the blonde's whimpers and wails in my ears, along with my own to my dismay, as we ferociously try to use our fingernails to destroy the other woman's assets.
I am on top of this relentless masked cxnt tearing away at her titflesh, looking into her tear filled brown eyes hoping this will be it when I feel her talons clamp around my neck. Fuck this flat chested blonde. She will not win.
Immediately, I retaliate my hands throttling her windpipe. I'm on top and bear down with all of my weight. Her eyes are bulging now, but I can feel her nails dig deeper into my neck. This bitch just won't quit. She begins bucking wildly and desperately sending me toppling from my mount and onto my side.
Lying on our sides, our eyes are locked in a hate filled death gaze with our hands locked around the other woman's throat, squeezing as hard as we can. I can feel the tunnel vision creeping in as my oxygen is depleted. Then, I feel Lady Lonestar's knuckles smash into my ribs. With her grip lessened, I can breathe slightly easier but the bitch's brutal barrage of body shots is punishing me. I begin to fire back in kind. Both of us are exhausted and in pain. Our punches are slow and deliberate. We are both close to breaking.
Desperate to put this scrawny scrapper away, I start attempting to climb back on top. She is doing the same. We scratch, claw and punch one another as we each climb up the other woman until we are standing again. Though we are only standing because we are clinging to each other.
Hanging on to each other with one hand, we continue to bury knuckles into our rival with the other. Locked in this battle with the blonde I can feel every ragged breath she takes, hear her every pained groan. She is fading. Her punches still hurt but I am starting to land two or three of my own strikes for every single one she lands. I am gaining control, bullying the blonde woman around the artificial turf of the battlefield. She can't take much more, but truthfully, neither can I.
Then she does something I don't expect. She grunts, pushing off of me, before I can react, it feels like a sledge hammer slams into my jaw. Everything is in slow motion and it feels like my body has disconnected from my brain. I am aware of myself falling backwards but can't do anything about it.
I land on my back and my eyes are fluttering as I cling to consciousness. The bright lights of the battlefield seem like they are spinning above me. I have no idea where Lady Lonestar is. I try to will my body to move. To continue the fight but all I can muster is a few feeble movements of my fingers. I am helpless, lying on my back barely able to breathe, but as the blonde isn't on top of me, she must be hurt just as badly.
For the first time since the fight began, I am aware of the crowd again. I can hear them yelling frantically. I can make out individual voices trying to will the blonde or me to get back in the fight and finish our rival. I begin to try and focus. I slowly shake my head trying to fight through the brain fog induced by the blonde's devastating haymaker. My body is starting to respond. I begin to writhe slowly as I start to regain some of my motor skills but before I can do anything else, I feel Lady Lonestar's body sliding on top of mine.
Summoning everything I have left, I try to stop her but my strength is gone. Soon she is lying on top of me, our sweat covered bodies in a chest to chest pin. Next I feel her leg slip over my belly. Oh fuck, she has me mounted now. My body isn't responding and she seems to be getting stronger. Our hands are palm to palm and she pins mine above my head then I feel her pin my biceps beneath her knees. My eyes can finally focus clearly again and all I can see is the blonde sitting atop of me in a schoolgirl pin. My body gives out and I flatten completely beneath her. I've been defeated.
My eyes dart back and forth only to see the woman's thighs on either side of my face. I try to squirm but I am trapped. I feel the nearly trimmed blonde landing strip above my adversary's pussy pressing roughly against my chin. She glares down at me. "Priestess.... do... you... surrender?"
One last time, I try to will my body to continue the fight, but I seem only to deflate beneath the blonde. I have nothing left. I can feel my eyes welling up. "I... surrender.... to you.... Lady Lonestar..." I gasp out.
I close my eyes when I hear the gong sound and the crowd begin to roar. I feel the air rush back into my lungs as the blonde rises to her feet. I hear sobbing and become aware that I am bawling now. My chest rising and falling erratically trying to figure out how to cry and gulp in air at the same time. Instinctively, I cover my eyes with my arm trying to shield myself in some way from the embarrassment of having been conquered like this. The blonde in the Texas mask has broken me.
I become aware of her presence. I can feel her looming over me. My body shudders, wondering what she will do to me next. She, almost gently, uses her foot to nudge my arm away from my face. I am completely compliant now. Not that I could stop her anyway. I let my arm fall to the turf and stare blankly into the bright lights above me. I can feel all of the pain and stiffness settling into my body as the last of my adrenaline ebbs away.
In my peripheral vision, I see her staring down at me as she stands over me. I don't see any remnants of the ferocity In the two brown eyes behind her mask. For all of the savagery and nastiness of our fight, she knows it's over and seems content with her victory.
Even so, I know what comes next. Lady Lonestar and The Priestess went to war with each other. We fought. We hurt one another. There were no excuses. We gave each other everything we had... and then a little more. She conquered me and now she is taking her public reward. She deserves it. She plants her foot between my tits and raising her arms when The Valkyrie announces "Your winner.... Lady... Lonestar!"
I can hear the crowd rewarding my opponent. It hurts. This is the first time I've ever lost a public fight- even if no one knows who I am beneath my mask. I can feel the impending fear of that inescapable moment weighing heavily. I am sobbing again and I struggle to maintain any measure of composure as I am lead off of the battlefield by the victor with a leash. I wonder if this is what it felt like to lose in the coliseum? I might not be about to lose my life but in a few minutes The Priestess will have her anonymity stripped away. Then it will just be me... naked... on my knees in front of the woman who defeated me.
As soon as we are outside the view of the crowd, I collapse to my knees. Exhausted. Humiliated. Defeated. I can't go any further.
A couple of tugs on the leash connected to my mask and a stern look from the blonde convinces me otherwise. I crawl the rest of the way into the room where I first locked eyes with Lady Lonestar. This is where it will happen. I will have my mask taken. This woman will see my face. Will she know who I am? Will she show herself to me? Do we know each other?
There'e a million things running through my head right now as I kneel, head hanging, eyes staring at the victorious woman's feet. I feel the blonde woman's hand grip my chin. She lifts it up and forces my eyes to meet hers. "Priestess.... reveal yourself to me." She commands firmly, yet gently. I can tell this woman is a mother. That tone is something gained through experience of having to discipline a child that you love. Her voice and eyes convey a respect gained from the ferocity of our battle as our gaze remains locked.
Shit. That makes this even worse. She fought tooth and nail with The Priestess. Unfortunately for me, that is who she respects. As soon as my mask comes off she will not longer see that warrior, she will only see me, Leticia Montez... District Attorney.... kneeling... naked... eyes red from crying... conquered.... and worst of all, helpless.
I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for a stranger to know who The Priestess is. I'm an attorney- a damn good one. I feel my eyes dart back and forth as my mind races to find some way to persuade this woman to let me keep my anonymity.
"Look... Lonestar, maybe we can work something out. My husband is in the other room... pretty average dick but he knows how to use it and can eat pussy better than even the women I've been with... " I blurt out. Oh God. Did I just offer my husband to this woman... and admit that I've experimented with woman. What the fuck am I doing? I have to run for office again in a few years. This woman could wreck my real life as badly as she did in our fight. I can see that she isn't the least bit interested. I double down. "Please... you can make me watch." I can hear the desperation in my own voice. Maybe she is like that sadistic redhead that enjoyed hurting me like that.
"I appreciate the offer, but, I already have a man". Lady Lonestar replies still unmoved.
Fuck it. I'm all in at this point. "Maybe you and him would want to have your way with me.. mask staying on obviously." I'm fighting back the urge to ugly cry and beg, but I know that I'm already on the verge of causing this woman to lose all of that respect that I saw in her eyes moments ago.
"Listen... Priestess... I'm gonna level with you.... this is my first match here and yours will be my first mask. There's nothing you can say that will keep me from taking it. That said, I understand the importance of discretion and you have nothing to worry about." Lady Lonestar says her voice firm, steady and authoritative.
All of my objections have been overruled. My final appeal has been denied. Like in our fight. I know it's over now. Although, her words have put me more at ease. Even though she is wearing a mask, something about her makes me trust her. I don't even know her but she seems more truthful than almost anyone I've ever met. I let out a long sigh, bow my head and begin to unlace my beautiful green and gold mask for the last time. I know I'll receive another, but this was my first, my only armor as I battled nude in front of the most powerful men and women in the area and now it will belong to her. I slip the mask off of my head. Still staring at the ground, I offer it up to Lady Lonestar.
I can feel the woman's eyes looking me over. Something is telling me that she does recognize me. I finally let myself look at her. I see her hands moving towards the laces on the back of her mask. She stops and then speaks. "I think we're finished here." Then she turns and starts to walk away.
No..no... no... NO! She can't just leave. I feel like I have just beared my entire soul to this woman and that was after we clashed naked, our bodies tearing one another. I need to know who she is. "Wait!.... Lonestsar... Don't you want to show me who you are... who defeated me?" I appeal to her pride.
The blonde stops for a moment then walks back to me. There's a softness in her eyes as she looks into mine again and speaks again. "I'm nobody.... nobody you'd recognize anyway.... why do you care?"
"Look at the label in my mask..." I plead. I know from my previous fight at the Palace that each mask has the name of the alter ego of the woman who wore it and a number. "Do you see that number one?... that means it's my first mask... you're the first woman to take it.... and, if it's not too much to ask, I'd like to see the face of the woman who broke me. Wouldn't you want to know?"
I can see the blonde's brown eyes weighing my proposal. "You're right.... I'd want to know..." Lady Lonestar answers as she begins to loosen her mask. She removes it and gives her blonde hair a shake. She is a pretty woman, her face seems like it would normally be on smiling and happy woman rather than a tough, fierce fighter. And she is correct, I do not recognize her at all. I have no idea who she is, other than the woman who defeated me in the Valkyrie's Palace.
She can tell that I don't know who she is. She continues. "I know who you are Mrs. Montez... my name is Kelli... Kelli Rose.... no one you would have heard of."
"But, a name I won't forget.... Thank you." I say taking Kelli's hand as she offers to help up to my feet. Standing with my hand still squeezing hers, I finish. "Maybe The Valkyrie will see fit to give me a chance to even the score one day."
The soreness has already overtaken my body and I struggle, limping towards the door. It takes an eternity but I finally make it to my dressing suite. When I open the door Francisco envelopes me into his thick chest. He holds me as I cry it out for a while. He helps me get cleaned up and does his best to make me forget about the pain and humiliation from my loss to the blonde. It helps but I still feel it.
On the way home, I think about the fight and my future. I remember what I said to the woman after she told me her name. I think about what I would do differently in a rematch with Lady Lonestar on the battlefield. The more I ponder the possibility, the more I think that I don't really want another fight with Lady Lonestar. No, I think the story of The Priestess versus Lady Lonestar has been written. The next time I want it to be Kelli Rose versus Leticia Montez. That chapter has yet to be written.
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It's Christmas and Santa Fyrecracka loaded up under the tree.
Awesome to see the other side, and interesting twist at the end. Great work.
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thank you. I respect and appreciate your excellent story telling.
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Great work, Kelli, as usual. A few random thoughts.
I always thought Leticia's move to offer her husband at the post-fight session was a bit . . . off. Seeing it from this side makes more sense--it was just a panic move to avoid having her identity known.
That must have been one heck of a job interview.between Leticia and Janelle ("Qualifications? Here's my qualifications!" BAM!)
It is clear by the end that a level of respect and even honor has been reached between Leticia and Kelli. You indicated elsewhere that an upcoming story will involve Leticia. This respect may play out later in your story. Perhaps there is a major case regarding a big arrest or corruption somewhere in the local police or government, and Jake is involved as the investigator or key witness. Thus the threads between Leticia, Jake and Kelli intertwine. Maybe even Lily is involved--who knows but you.
Will Kelli and Leticia have their private rematch? Who knows--Kelli has left a city's worth of victims in her wake, and I am sure many of them want rematches.
The neat thing about these stories away from the main Journal is it fleshes out characters other than Kelli so well. I didn't have much interest in Leticia before. Now that I have seen some of her strengths and flaws, I am invested in seeing more of her.
Kelli, thank you again for your excellent contributions to this site.
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I completely agree with coachzzz and can’t say it better.
Will you be voting for Letitia in her re-election for DA? Perhaps you can run a campaign ad:
“Letitia Montez…One Tough Bitch…I Should Know”
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Wonderful to see you back!
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Some readers commented that the infamous chapter "Friday Night Lights Out" from Kiva's Fight Journal was one of their favorite stories. It was certainly one of my wildest. Some mentioned that Cynthia's husband Josh was an interesting likeable character, so before I get back to new original stories, I thought I would explore revisiting this story and how Josh might have experienced it.
Catpin Chronicles - Chapter 9
Kiva vs. Cynthia
as told by Josh Garrison (Cynthia's husband)
Original story: Kiva's Fight Journal Chapter 8: Friday Night Lights Out
https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=90742.75
You think you got the best of me
Think you've had the last laugh
Bet you think everything good is gone
Think you left me broken down
Think that I'll come running back
Baby, you don't know me, cause you're dead wrong
-Kelly Clarkson
Hi there. My name is Josh Garrison. Perhaps you heard of me. I was a Heisman Trophy winner. I was the starting quarterback of the winning team at the Cotton Bowl Classic. We nearly won the national championship that year.
I started playing football at 12 years of age. My father played as a middle linebacker in the NFL. Naturally, his dream for me was to be a pro. Quarterback is the only position I’ve ever played. In high school, I led my team to the Texas State championship. I received college scholarship offers from every major program in the U.S. I went to college not far from my hometown, playing in the Big 12 Conference. I became the starting quarterback my sophomore year.
My college years set the course for my life. I helped my team win a lot of football games. I broke several school records. I won many trophies and awards. But the best thing that happened to me was meeting the most beautiful woman on campus, the woman who would become my wife, Cynthia.
Cynthia and I met our sophomore year. She was on the cheerleading squad, a competitive nationally ranked team. I quickly realized a few things about her. One, she was unbelievably gorgeous and two, she was one tremendous athlete. One day, I met her at the sports complex after her practice. She agreed to have lunch with me, I asked her for her phone number, and we have been together ever since.
Our college years were magic. We were the storybook couple, the star quarterback and the cheerleader. We were the center of attention everywhere we went. Everyone wanted to be with us or at least be seen with us. The media was always in our faces snapping pictures. I think I know what it’s like to be a rock star or a Hollywood legend. Yeah, it got annoying sometimes, but in truth, I loved it. Cynthia loved it. We couldn’t get enough of it. We were the king and queen of the campus. We were royalty. The world was ours. Our future was in the stars. We married during our senior year.
We excelled in our respective sports. I won the Heisman Trophy and Cynthia’s cheerleading team took the national title. And then…it was over. In April of my senior year, I was drafted into the NFL as the number two overall pick by the New York Jets. This would be the beginning of a new phase of our lives. I would now play on a bigger stage and be known to millions of fans. It would be the start of a long lucrative career…or so I thought.
Life has a funny way of blindsiding you and turning against you sometimes. In training camp, I was named as the starting quarterback as a rookie. It was rough. I quickly learned that college is not the pros. Everything is bigger, faster and stronger in the NFL. Defenses are more complex. Decisions must be made in a fraction of a second. No one will hand you anything, it all must be earned. I no longer had adoring fans following me around. I went from Josh Garrison college superstar to Josh Garrison the untested rookie. It was life in a pressure cooker.
The first season got off to a rocky start. My timing and accuracy were off. The coaches and the press attributed it to rookie growing pains. Then I sprained my ankle and was forced to miss a few games. When I came back, I still struggled. I could tell the fans were getting impatient. We finished the year in last place. I was named the starter for the following year. The team had invested too much to give up on me. The coaches still believed in me. I still believed in me.
Except, things didn’t get better. To this day, I still can’t explain it. People closest to me blamed the coaching. Others pointed to our weak offensive line and lack of talented receivers. But I’ve learned not to blame teammates. The coaches thought I might have some kind of mental block and set me up with a sports psychologist. It didn’t help. The team and I finished with another dismal season. On the field, I could now hear the boos coming from the stands. The crushing words, “Draft Bust” were now floating around. At this point, I don’t know if even I believed in myself anymore. But I know Cynthia sure did. At the end of the year, our head coach was fired. With a new coach and crew of coordinators and assistants, I was told they had plans for a new system and there would be major changes. I had lost my starting job. The team had signed a free agent veteran quarterback, I would serve as his backup. I spent most of the season on the sidelines holding a clipboard. At the end of the year, I received devastating news. I was released.
I signed with another team, but that lasted for only one year. I did get to start a few games, but played poorly. I was released again and was offered a backup spot with a third team. Midway through the season, I was cut. Then, the phone calls stopped. I was out of the league. Done. Finished. My life ruined.
The end of my football career was crushing and demoralizing, to say the least. Failure was not an option for me. Football was all I had ever known. I felt I let down myself, my wife, my family, especially my father, and my college. Cynthia and I returned home. We purchased a nice house with the money I made on my rookie contract. I went through a long period of depression where I could barely get out of bed. I owe everything to my family, my closest friends, and of course, my darling wife, Cynthia to finally get me back on my feet again. I took a sales job at a car dealership. Cynthia earned a degree in Education, and began teaching elementary school kids. I enjoy my job. I was always an extrovert who likes meeting people. It helped a lot that many customers remembered my college glory days. Soon, I was telling stories about my college career. Customers wanted my autograph and take selfies with me. Fathers would tell their sons that I was the best quarterback to ever play in Texas. At home, I was still a legend. Once again, I couldn’t get enough of the attention.
Cynthia, for her part, never wavered in her undying support for me. But she was still stung by bitterness. In her mind, my talent was wasted by incompetent coaches who didn’t use my skill set properly. Like me, the support of my former fans meant a lot to her. She began to travel with me to memorabilia shows, sports banquets, my high school football hall of fame induction. She would hear that Josh Garrison was great. She needed to hear it over and over again. Soon, it was as if we were reliving our college glory days every day. Cynthia created a website in my honor, joshgarrison.com. Its full of pictures, videos, stories. It even has a shop selling Josh Garrison merchandise, although I think she may have overdone it with the presales ordering. Our house is full of Josh Garrison jerseys, signed footballs, bobbleheads, coffee mugs, and you name it. She even has a line of Josh Garrison women’s sportswear, including red panties with my number 18 on the derriere.
Cynthia, God love her, is fiercely protective of my legacy, perhaps too much. During my time in the NFL, she would verbally lash out at fans who booed and badmouthed me. Then one day, she took it to a whole new level. While vacationing in Hawaii, we were harassed by a couple of Jets fans in the lobby. “Hey Garrison,” I heard a woman’s voice grumble, “you suck! The Jets should cut your pathetic ass.”
Immediately, Cynthia sprang into action, pushing her nose right up into the woman’s face. “Who the fuck do you think you are, bitch,” she barked, “my husband won the Heisman Trophy. And you? You’re a fucking nobody, a total loser!” They started slapping and reaching for each other’s hair until I wedged myself between them to break it up. The woman invited Cynthia to their hotel room to finish the fight in private. Cynthia quickly accepted. I was shocked. The woman looked about twenty pounds heavier and Cynthia never fought before. I pulled her aside to get her to calm down, but to no avail. Cynthia assured me she would go to the room and teach this woman respect and I would just have to let her do it. I knew Cynthia was strong willed and there was no talking her out of it. Fearing the worst, I accompanied her to the hotel room. At least I could intervene before she’d get hurt. As Cynthia, the woman and her boyfriend, and I rode the elevator and marched in silence down the hallway to the hotel room, my heart pounded. As the door closed, the woman grunts, “ready to get your pretty face punched in?” In a matter of seconds, the two of them, wearing sleeveless tops and shorts lunged at each other. It was pure rage. Neither one was a skilled fighter. The fight wasn’t close. Cynthia was strong, aggressive and downright vicious. After a blur of punches and hair pulls, the Cynthia had the woman on her back. From a mounted position, she hammered a torrent of punches to the face and body as the woman could do nothing but try to cover up. Finally, the woman burst into tears begging Cynthia to stop. I stepped in to pull Cynthia off as she continued to swing. I couldn’t believe it. It was so surreal. We saw the couple in the hotel a few days later. The woman who had been rude, aggressive and disrespectful sheepishly turned her slightly puffy and bruised face away from us. Cynthia later that day told me that was a real rush for her.
That was just the beginning. Cynthia took an interest in fighting. She started studying various combat sports. One day she told me about a website where women can meet and arrange private fights. Before long, she dragged me off to a local hotel room for her first “official” fight. It was over in seconds with Cynthia again as the victor. Although she had little formal fight training, Cynthia was strong, athletic, very quick and ferocious. More fight meetups followed. The results were the same as Cynthia piled up a series of decisive victories.
What motivated Cynthia to fight other women? I’m not sure I completely understand it. She often talked about the adrenaline rush, but I think there was more to it. I know Cynthia also often looked back on her college days. She missed the competition and the attention. Sometimes she fantasized that she was fighting for our school. If her opponent was college educated, Cynthia would ask that she show up wearing her school’s colors. Over time, the manner and the attire of the fights evolved. In the early encounters, the fighters usually wore sports bras with gym shorts or yoga pants, Later, she preferred they fight in bikinis. She felt a unique eroticism in defeating another woman with both of them looking as sexy as possible. Then, with only husbands and boyfriends present, she preferred topless.
I should also point out that these bouts started to take on higher psychological stakes. The women seemed to have an unspoken agreement that the winner was entitled to a victory pose over the loser. There are many forms to victory pose, most commonly, the loser lies flat on her back while the winner plants her foot on the defeated woman’s chest assuming a jubilant position with the hands high in the air. To raise the stakes even higher, the defeated woman might be required to hand over her panties to the winner, leaving her completely naked and exposed as a sign of submission. The victorious woman celebrates, receiving hugs and kisses from her man, and presumably a wild night in the bedroom. The loser’s man can only helplessly watch as his partner is humiliated and forced to admit her inferiority before he can collect her battered body and spirit and begin the process of piecing her back together. Catfighting is not just about fighting as a sport. It's also sexiness and dominance.
Cynthia received her “catpin” from the website. This is a pin in the shape of a cat with its claws fanned out. Women wear it when in search of a catfight opponent. When two women with the pin encounter each other, it is expected that they fight. When it became evident that she was fully committed to this “hobby”, we opened up our house to arranged fights. I bought a professional ring and set it up in a large gym room. It was Cynthia’s idea, fighting in a ring gave her an extra surge of excitement and energy.
Over time, my wife accumulated a collection of panties she stripped off her victims, storing them in a cabinet in our trophy room. Cynthia is the most competitive person I know. Otherwise, she is a cheerful and friendly person. She doesn’t bear ill will against her opponent unless the woman crosses a line. And what is that line? Never, ever, say a disparaging remark about my football career. I heard it all. Has-been, draft bust, overrated. I have thick skin. I can take it. But Cynthia? Badmouthing me will trigger her like you won’t believe. She’ll become a nonstop destructive force of nature. One of her opponents, Deanna, foolishly found out. After insulting me and desecrating one of my jerseys, Cynthia nearly took Deanna’s head off, squeezing the daylights out her with a head scissors. My wife’s legs are so strong, I swear she could crush a coconut with them. This brings me to the fight story I’m about to tell you.
One day, Cynthia arranged a fight with a woman named Kiva, to take place in our home. Kiva was a nurse and the mom of one of the girls in Cynthia’s junior cheerleading team. We met her and her husband Tom at a Pee Wee football game. Cynthia spoke highly of Kiva at first, but as the week went on leading up to the fight, the situation became acrimonious. “You should see what she texted about you,” Cynthia would tell me. “I’m going to destroy her. I’ll give her a good beatdown and add her blue Yale panties to my collection.” Oh boy, I thought, here we go. I knew right then, that Kiva, whoever she was, had no chance.
When Kiva and Tom came to the door, my mind about the outcome of the fight didn’t change. They seemed like a nice couple. Kiva was friendly and polite, but I did catch her rolling her eyes and whispering to her husband, likely ridiculing all the college memorabilia in our house. Cynthia was cold as ice and showed no hospitality, so it was all up to me. During the tour of the house, Cynthia insisted I show Kiva her collection of trophy panties. It was an intimidation tactic, I know. To make matter worse, Cynthia had members of the college cheerleading team over to practice and allowed them to watch the fight. I was surprised Kiva agreed to it. Finally, I showed Kiva and Tom to the guest bedroom where she could get ready for the fight and I went to assist Cynthia. I short while later, I summoned the ladies to the ring.
The fighters climbed through the ropes and went to their respective corners. They removed their outer coverings, wearing only their panties, Cynthia’s in red with my number 18 on her firm rear and Kiva’s in blue. I must say it was exciting to see these two nearly naked beauties in the ring. They were about the same height of 5’7”. My honey, Cynthia, as usual, was a mix of power, agility, and raw sexuality. Her light brown hair was pulled back, her green eyes glaring with the meanest expression I have ever seen on her face. She has the perkiest feistiest tits ever. I think that’s why she likes to fight topless. Virtually no woman has a body that can match hers, giving her another psychological advantage. Kiva had a slender fit body, but I wouldn’t call it muscular. I suspected she wasn’t anywhere nearly as athletic as Cynthia. She had a very pretty face with long dark hair pulled up into a bun and lovely blue eyes. From what fight information we found on her, we learned she’s a hard hitter but doesn’t seem to have much else. Her tits were certainly sexy, but I wouldn’t trade them for Cynthia’s pair. She looked confident, but I just didn’t see the meanness and killer look I saw in Cynthia. Where Cynthia looked like she was out to kill bear, Kiva looked like she was excited to take in the moment. Her nipples betrayed how turned on she was to fight in front of her husband. Poor girl, I thought, I hope Cynthia at least finishes her off quickly and humanely.
After review of the rules and the stare down in the center of the ring, I gave the command to fight. As I expected, Cynthia charged out of her corner like a wild beast. I thought this fight would be over in less than a minute. Except, it wasn’t. Kiva surprised me. She kept her composure, moving to the side and dodging my wife like a matador. She made Cynthia miss wildly, while landing punches and slaps. That’s how much of the first part of the fight went. Cynthia was clearly the aggressor, but Kiva was incredibly patient, staying out of harm’s way for the most part, and landing blows. One thing I learned about Kiva is that the girl could box. It was obvious she was trying to keep the fight from going to the ground where Cynthia would have the advantage.
Finally, Cynthia speared Kiva in the belly with her shoulder, knocking her backward. My wife went to work, tying up the nurse and getting in her own punches. Somehow, Kiva weathered the storm and fought through it. The rest of the fight was the most intense battle I’ve ever seen, becoming progressively got more vicious with a lot of hair pulling, tit clawing, screaming and cursing. Cynthia absorbed a lot of punishment from Kiva’s body shots, but dished out a lot of her own devastating punches and kicks. Every time she had Kiva tied up, the nurse found a way out, even escaping Cynthia’s dreaded body scissors. With both women battered, exhausted, sweaty, and scratched, it was clear that this would be a war of attrition, coming down to who had the strongest will and last bit of endurance. This wasn’t at all the fight I expected.
At one point, it seemed certain the winner would be Kiva. A hard right hand to the ribs left Cynthia frozen and in pain. Seeing my wife was virtually defenseless, Kiva pulled her around her in circles by the hair before throwing her down in the center of the ring that bears our alma mater’s logo. Kiva showed some wrestling ability, tying Cynthia up facedown, driving her nose into the canvas. She wasn’t content to win, she was out to humiliate my wife. She actually pulled down’s Cynthia’s red panties and spanked her silly until her butt cheeks were cherry red. I prepared myself that someday Cynthia could lose a fight, but I never thought it would be this way. Kiva turned her over and sat on her with a school girl pinned. It looked like she would finish her off with a face sit, when almost miraculously Cynthia managed to escape.
But she was still in big trouble as Kiva hovered above her, ready to finish her off. A hit to the face caused Cynthia to collapse into the ropes, then down to the canvas. I expected Kiva to move in for the finish, but instead she did something unthinkable. She spat on our school logo. I couldn’t believe it. Neither could Cynthia. Kiva didn’t realize she just made a fatal mistake. It was as if she just kicked a baby bear cub in front of its mama. Enraged, Cynthia screamed out something I will not repeat. With renewed energy and fury, she charged at Kiva, driving her into a ring corner. Like a cyclone, Cynthia unleashed a horrific torrent of punches, slaps, and knees pummeling Kiva helpless, blow after blow landing to the head and body. Unable to defend herself, the poor nurse fell to a heap in the corner. I was ready to step in and stop it, when suddenly, Cynthia wrapped those lethal legs around her victim’s pretty head, to execute an inevitable choke out. It was clear Kiva was finished. I waved for Cynthia to stop, but she had other plans. She released her hold before her opponent lost consciousness, then dragged the brunette’s body to the center of the ring. To be honest, I don’t approve of this cat and mouse cruelty. Cynthia had the fight won, but she wasn’t content with just a victory and felt she had to deliver a final message. She bent the defenseless woman backward into a Boston Crab until Kiva finally screamed her surrender. Only after she forced the defeated nurse to kiss the school logo and declaring herself to be a nobody did Cynthia finally relinquish the hold.
When Cynthia leapt to her feet in victory, she still wasn’t done. She stood on her vanquished foe’s chest with both feet, making sure to wipe her dirty soles as much as possible on Kiva’s breasts. Next, she spit on Kiva’s belly in retaliation for her actions. Then she stripped her of her blue panties, leaving her fully naked in the ring. Before Kiva could even move out of the way, my wife invited the cheerleaders into the ring to perform a routine with Kiva still lying on her back. I don’t really agree with this either, although I understand Cynthia’s anger. I get the humiliation aspect of these catfights, but there should be limits. Finally, the cheerleaders exited the ring, leaving Kiva’s husband to come scrape her off the canvas.
The girls prepared for the pizza party while Kiva slowly hobbled her way to the guest room. Cynthia was ecstatic with her win, but I’ll tell you, that was her toughest fight to date. Kiva was definitely no slouch and fought like hell. I believe she would have defeated Cynthia had she not acted so foolishly. Also, I give Kiva credited to fighting in enemy territory. Cynthia had a strong home field advantage and supporters.
“When Kiva finishes getting her stuff, I’m kicking her lame ass out of the house,” Cynthia told me with a mischievous grin.
“Now wait a minute,” I answered. “I have a different suggestion.” I thought the poor girl was humiliated enough. What was the good of throwing one more cruel indignity at her. The world doesn’t need another angrier bitter person. “How about if we invite Kiva and Tom to stay with us for pizza and beer. We’re all adults. We all know you are the victor. Maybe it would help if Kiva got to know us better.”
Cynthia seemed puzzled at first, then the mischievous grin returned. “Good idea,” she said, “I know what we can do. I’ll get the photos and the hard drives.”
Kiva surprised me again. I expected her to turn down the invitation and run for the mountains as quickly as possible after how she was treated that night. Even though her husband thought they should leave, Kiva insisted that they would stay. We let her use our bathroom and shower to wash up. I gave her one of my jerseys to keep. She took a long time in the bathroom. When Cynthia walked her to the kitchen table, Kiva was wearing only my oversized jersey extending to her knees, instead of the clothes she brought with her. It was clear that she had been crying in the bathroom. But she also had a look of resignation. She dutifully took her place at to the table next to her husband and across from Cynthia and I. She was generally subdued but remained friendly and polite as Cynthia and I shared our pictures and videos of our college days. And you know, once Cynthia and I start talking about college years, we can go on for hours. And we did. And Kiva sat through it all.
At first, Kiva’s agreeability to stay for so long seemed odd. Her face, voice and body language all projected submissiveness. Then it all made sense. Seeing her in her bare feet and wet hair, wearing nothing but a shirt that bore our names on her back, gave me a peculiar sense that we now owned her as our property. She had never lost a fight before and now she was telling the world in her own way that someone is her master. I think she stayed because she thought we wanted her to stay. I honestly believe that if we ordered her to scrub the floors and clean the windows, she would have done so. In truth, we never told her to stay and she could have left anytime she wanted. In the wee hours of the morning, she actually asked for our permission to go home.
I suppose that’s the psychology of female catfights. It establishes a pecking order of superior and inferior. I think Kiva handled it as graciously as she could and I respect her for that. I like Kiva. I see her around sometimes and we are on good terms. I think she is a good soul and I will root for her when she fights anyone other than Cynthia.
As for me, I am a happy man. I know that I will have to live with my failed NFL career for the rest of my life. I came to peace with it a long time ago. I know some people still call me Draft Bust, but that’s their problem, not mine. I’m proud of my football career and I prefer to only remember the good times. Life is too short for regrets and negativity. I realize some say I’m living in the past, but I disagree. My past is part of my present. If my college career helps inspire one person to be successful in any field, then it is all worth it.
Thanks for reading and keep following your dreams,
Josh
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Brilliant! Wonderfully vivid, convincing, witty… — and wickedly sexy.
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It's a pity the Trumps aren't more like the Garrisons. If only Trump could have been big enough to say "Look, I was great on The Apprentice but the step-up from reality TV to the White House was too much for me. My presidency was a disaster. I panicked over covid and a lot more people died than needed to. I embarrassed the whole country and myself on the world stage. And after four years of dithering and confusion, I heard from the electorate the devastating news. I was released."
Then Melania would be the one in denial, fighting mad and blaming everyone but her husband for the failure of his presidency ("it was the idiots he hired / China / the Deep State / George Soros / the media / Rosie O'Donnell / a diabolic pedophile ring run from the basement of a pizza parlor in Washington that doesn't have a basement …")
And instead of classified documents, they'd have a house full of unsold MAGA merchandise, along with Covfefe coffee mugs, videos of him curtseying for the Saudi king, worshipping a glass orb, not knowing how to close an umbrella, and t-shirts with some of his most inane pronouncements ("“Our army manned the air, it rammed the ramparts, it took over the airports", … "Perhaps if you injected bleach into the lungs", … "President Putin says it's not Russia. I don't see any reason why it would be", …"I meant 'why it wouldn't be'" …).
I think a job in a car dealership would suit Trump just fine. Better than going to prison, isn't it? And a catpin might even wake Melania from her coma. Perhaps we should send her one.
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Great writing as always, Kiva.
One of the things about these Catpin Chronicles stories is the chance to see a different perspective on the same events, and it sometimes clarifies what happened in the original story, as well as its aftermath. It happened previously in Kelli's story of her first time at the Palace. I think it just happened again here.
As we know, Tom's character, betrayed your character by posting the video of this loss inappropriately. These actions are and were despicable, and I don't blame your character one bit for feeling betrayed. I do want to draw the attention to how you described the aftermath of the fight with Cynthia from Josh's perspective. Josh is a neutral observer regarding you and Tom. He viewed your behavior after the fight as passive and submissive. If he viewed it that way, you can be sure Tom (who knows your character's mannerisms inside and out) saw it even more clearly than Josh did. I think that scene was a large reinforcement of what happened in the fight, and somehow influenced Tom (in his mixed-up mind) to do what he did. I always thought that Tom's actions were way out of left field, but seeing that scene from a different slant gives me an idea as to how he could have managed to convince himself to do what he did. It isn't an excuse for what he did--rather it is an investigation of what might have contributed to the event.
As always, your writing gives us readers much psychological food for thought. Thank you for your great work.
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Another fantastic chapter, Kiva! I liked Cynthia and Josh as characters in the original story- pretty obvious since they both appear in one of my chapters (thanks for letting me borrow them). Now I like them even more after learning more about what makes them "tick". I especially enjoyed getting to know Josh better... he definitely fits my "type" so I might be a little biased. ;)
As usual, we get a high quality product. All the great storytelling and psychological stuff that makes our minds and imaginations run wild, the deeper development of characters we already know- or think we know, as well as it being well written and edited,
One of my favorite things about the Chronicles is that makes the "catpin universe" feel more alive. Most of the time in the real world heroes and villains are usually determined by perspective. That's what we get here- an alternate perspective from a pretty good dude :).
I'll also add that for me, stories narrated by one of the fighters significant others are only second to the those from the fighter's own pov. Knowing what we know now, I can't help but to wonder how this chapter would sound coming from Tom.
Thanks for sharing this gem.
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Thank you all for your comments and Likes or if you simply read this story and enjoyed it. Coachzzz and Kelli, you are right. Tom’s perspective would add another dimension to this tale and could be important as he will be reentering Kiva’s Fight Journal at some point.
As a writer, the alternate pov allows you to be crazily creative. I reread my Catpin Chronicles Chapter 6 “A Crazy Broad Named Kiva”’ by The General. I had to stop several times and ask myself, “Did I really write that?” How else do i get an excuse to pretend I’m an 80-year-old crotchety. ignorant, sexist, male former military officer? I remember having a blast trying to come up with his zinger lines. So yes, the Chronicles is great practice and loads of fun :)
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What's particularly impressive about this is that Josh turns out to be a likeable and well-rounded character. His story is neither altogether tragic nor altogether comic and even transcends the tragicomic because he's aware that his life is somewhat absurd but has come to terms with it. He also speaks with a unique voice and remains in character throughout the narrative. He can't resist rehashing the whole sad story of his football career before getting to the point - the quarrel that arose out of it and the ensuing fight - but then it turns out there is a subject dearer to his own heart than himself: his wife.
Again, when it comes to his response to the fight, you've resisted all the clichés of the genre. He's relieved, obviously, that his wife has won, but he isn't screaming "break her back" at the end there, when she has Kiva at her mercy; and, while he 'gets it', he's (mildly) disapproving of the gleeful retribution that follows.
There are some wonderful lines too: "She did something unthinkable. She spat on our school logo. … It was as if she just kicked a baby bear cub in front of its mama.". LOL. Quite!
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Layered through the length of this story is a fine exploration of the nature and psychology of competition between women. I enjoyed reading that very much: well done!
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I love these second looks, Josh seems level headed and comes off well in both this and in Kelly's story. I really like how both you and Josh misunderstood the after match stuff, and the realization you probably over punished yourself, it wasn't what Josh intended.
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Finally, you get to meet my future ex-husband. Pour yourself a beer to cry in. :'(
Catpin Chronicles – Chapter 10
One For My Baby
By Dr. Thomas Raines as told to Jake Rose
You would never know it
But buddy, I’m kind of a poet
And I got a lot of things I’d like to say
And if I’m gloomy
Please listen to me
‘Till it’s talked away
Well, that’s how it goes
And Joe, I know you’re getting anxious to close
Anyway, thanks for the cheer
I hope you didn’t mind my bending your ear
But this torch that I’ve found
It’s gotta be drowned
Or it’s gonna explode
Make it one for my baby
And another for the road
-Johnny Mercer/Harold Arlen
-sung by Frank Sinatra
She doesn’t take my calls. I’m blocked on her cell phone, email, texts, all of her social media. The only times we communicate is when I get Clarissa on weekends. Everything else is through our attorneys. It sucks. She has every right to be mad. I know it. I really hurt her. But, you know, I keep hoping. We haven’t gotten very far in the divorce settlements, so there’s still time. She keeps dragging her feet on her part, so I think maybe she doesn’t really want to go through with it. Perhaps at some subconscious level, she wants to come back. She just needs more time to get through the pain and give our marriage another chance.
Ma’am, can I have another gin and tonic…and another rye on the rocks for my friend.
It’s my fault. I take full responsibility for it. She never in a million years deserved what I did to her. You probably heard something about it. Maybe Kelli told you. You know, Jake, you’re the only one I can talk to about this. If I tried to explain catfighting to most people, they’d think I’m a fucking loon. It’s something only another catfighter’s husband would understand. I appreciate you meeting me here.
Oh Kiva! Jake, look at this. Her face is my cell phone wall paper. That’s her on our wedding day. God, that face. Those eyes. And here she is when she was pregnant. What an angel.
Did I ever tell you how Kiva and I met? I did my residency at a large teaching hospital. Kiva was an ICU nurse. I first saw her during my internship year. One thing about teaching hospitals is that you have a lot of residents and students in all different disciplines. Most of them are young and single, so, you know, stuff happens. There was a lot of dating going on, a lot of hookups, one nighters, engagements, breakups and marriages. When I was an intern, the ICU was the place to be if you were a single guy. It had the best-looking nurses, some of them were pretty wild. It was a real soap opera. They were great nurses, but there was always some crazy drama going on. Then there was Kiva.
I quickly learned two things about Kiva. One, she was a fantastic ICU nurse. Second, she was gorgeous. She had this long dark hair that she kept tied back and these killer blue eyes. But here’s the thing. She stayed away from all the drama. She was all business. She showed up, did a kick ass job, then went home. The guys all noticed her, but we didn’t know a whole lot about her. We knew she was single; she was rumored to be dating someone outside the hospital. I wouldn’t say she was standoffish. Kiva was personable and had a great sense of humor. She was great at professional communication, but in casual conversation, she more than held her own, but just didn’t give you a whole lot of info about herself. Kiva was the nurse you hoped got assigned to your patient. It meant your patient was in excellent hands. It also meant you had the perfect opportunity to talk with her. Occasionally, some resident would try to hit on her and end up falling flat on his face. We heard she had a self-imposed rule against dating anyone who worked at the hospital. Most of us didn’t bother to try. A lot of guys were too intimidated by her to ask her out.
One night, my life changed. I was on call in the ICU the same time Kiva was working an overnight shift. As fate would have it, we shared the same patient, an unfortunate man who suffered a massive heart attack and went into cardiogenic shock. He was rushed to the cardiac cath lab to open up his blocked coronary artery, but his heart pump was very weak and he couldn’t maintain a good blood pressure. He wound up on a ventilator and hooked up to an artificial device to assist his heart in contracting. He was sent to the ICU where Kiva and I were tasked with getting him through the night. It was scary. The room was a jungle of tubes, wires, monitors, artificial gadgets, pumps, IV poles and bags, and one barely alive human body. And there was Kiva in the middle of it all, calm as could be, adjusting doses, sticking in IV catheters, changing oxygen settings, running here, dashing there. I mean, she was a consummate pro. I don’t think she sat down once.
Morning came and our shifts ended. I was heading out of the ICU, when I caught a glimpse of Kiva inside the break room giving report to the next shift’s nurse. I stopped and waited. I needed to thank her. I waited outside the break room. And waited, trying not to look like a loitering fool. Finally, she came out with her coat and handbag, clearly exhausted. “Are you leaving?” I asked. What a dumb question.
“Yes, I’m going home to crash.”
“Well, I just want to say, thanks for all your hard work overnight. You did an amazing job.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, I think I’ll go home and do the same.”
As she started to walk past me. I impulsively blurted out words I immediately wish I hadn’t. I think the sleep deprivation took away my filter, or at least my inhibitions and fear of rejection.
“Kiva, I’m going out for breakfast. Would you like to join me?” What am I doing? I thought. The poor woman can barely stand and why did I really think she’d waste her time with me? “Uh, I mean, after all your hard work overnight, the least I could do is treat you to breakfast.”
She paused for moment and looked at her watch. Oh shit, here comes the rejection. I can already hear it. I’d love to, but you see, I just don’t have time and I really need to get home and…
“Okay, where do you want to meet?”
WHAT! Did hear that right? Did Kiva Sheppard just agree to have breakfast with me? It was as if the gods smiled on me after a long brutal night in the ICU. I couldn’t believe my good fortune.
Fifteen minutes later, we sat across from one another at a quaint café near the hospital. Her hair now flowed past her shoulders to her back. She wore very little makeup – a light foundation and a touch of mascara around slightly bleary eyes, no lipstick. I’m sure she didn’t think she looked beautiful at that moment. This woman just spent twelve hours on her feet, at a time when most people are asleep, doing everything humanly possible to keep a man alive. Yet, fatigue did nothing to diminish her beauty. I looked at Kiva and saw a frontline warrior who just returned from a battle. My lovely breakfast companion was smart, selfless, and very tired…and she was sexy. That was the moment I fell in love with her.
I still remember what we ate. Kiva ordered eggs benedict and I had a Spanish omelet. Out of the hospital, Kiva was different and seemed to make a deliberate effort to not talk about work. She was a good conversationalist. I got the sense she could talk about anything. I learned she graduated from Yale and she loved classic rock music and red wine. We talked about movies, our favorite forms of live music, wineries we had visited and even sports. She said very little about her personal life. Did she have a boyfriend? Why would she even reveal that? We were just two colleagues from work unwinding before returning to our homes.
We finished breakfast. Kiva wanted separate checks but finally relented to my insistence on picking up the tab. This was my golden opportunity. I may never get another chance like this. It was now or never. There was no turning back.
“Kiva?” I asked just before we rose from the table. “May I call you?”
She paused and stared at the table for a few seconds as if she was contemplating the final Jeopardy question.
“Um, yeah…okay,” she answered, as if it were an afterthought. She took a pen and sticky note out of her hand bag and scribbled her number on it before handing it to me. “Thanks for breakfast,” she smiled. “Now I got to get to sleep.” Not exactly an enthusiastic response to the idea of dating me.
We walked to our cars and said our goodbyes. Before we parted, I approached her with my arms out in a hug formation. She allowed me to wrap my arms around her back and gently pull her to my chest for a second before backing away. “You were really good yourself last night,” she murmured. Hearing those words from Kiva, I couldn’t help myself from imagining her voice saying that line in a different circumstance.
Ma’am, another refill. Yes, rye on the rocks and gin and tonic. Thank you.
It took about a week for me to get enough courage to call. Now fully rested and with hindsight, I analyzed and overanalyzed our breakfast conversation. Why did she have breakfast with me when she was obviously exhausted? She gave me her number. That must mean something, right? Did she really see me as a potential romantic partner or was she just too nice to turn me down right on the spot? Sometimes women give you their number, then when you ask them out, they give you a litany of excuses. Finally, I called. Our conversation was brief, but yes, Kiva accepted a dinner with me.
Our first real date was at an upscale Italian restaurant. I offered to pick her up, but Kiva wanted us to meet there. I arrived first. When Kiva walked in, she was stunning in her blue dress. She gave me a little hug and a peck on the cheek and we sat down at the table.
This encounter was much different than our breakfast. She was wide awake and animated. She carried the conversation, touching on an even larger array of topics. She was bright, funny and charming. I had to do very little. Again, she avoided talking about work but had a lot to say about healthcare in general. This woman was smart. The time seemed way too short. I would’ve talked to her all night. Did we sleep together that night? Nope. I received another peck on the cheek and Kiva headed home.
There would be a third date and a fourth. There were dinners, movies, and more conversations. Kiva was opening up more. I learned she had three brothers; she was half Irish and half Jewish but raised as a conservative Christian. She lived in several places in the northeast and was Phi Beta Kappa at Yale. She had an extensive music collection of different genres and knew a lot about science and history. I told her she should be a Jeopardy contestant. She read a lot, liked to write short stories and dabbled in guitar, oil painting, poetry and songwriting. She amazed me more and more each time I saw her. It was as if both sides of her brain were turbo charged – an intellectual powerhouse who was creative as hell. And…Kiva showed a growing interest in knowing more about me. There was one complication, though. I had a girlfriend back home who was in graduate school. The long distant relationship was difficult to maintain. I ended it. I could now pursue Kiva without feeling conflicted or that I was living a double life.
Our relationship progressed, albeit slowly. It was months before it got physical. Maybe it was Kiva’s conservative upbringing. I also heard she had a bad breakup. Perhaps she was being cautious. It seemed to me that Kiva was simply the type of woman who wants to know you well before hopping into bed. When we did become intimate, it was more than worth the wait. I thought of those bumper stickers and T shirts saying “Nurses Do It Better.” I know that’s sexist and insulting, but sometimes I wonder if nurses’ technical proficiency with human bodies helps make them naturally good lovers. Nurses are good at reading their patients’ silent cues to know when they’re in pain, stressed, fearful. Great sex is about communication and give and take, and reading your partner. Kiva and I had that. I just knew that Kiva was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
Finally, it happened. One night we were making out in Kiva’s apartment. I was so overwhelmed that I impulsively uttered the fateful line, “you know I love you.” She abruptly pulled away. She looked shocked.
“What? Really...Really?”
My heart sunk. We never reached the point where we discussed what each of us wanted from the relationship. Now I raised the stakes into the stratosphere. Kiva sat there expressionless looking at the floor. I said something she was not prepared to hear and for a horrifying moment, I had no idea where our relationship stood.
“Look, Tom,” she said. “Maybe we should call it a night.”
“I’m sorry. I- “
“I’ll call you in the morning,” she told me as she walked me to the door. Just like that. The woman I thought would be the love my life just sent me home.
After an agonizing sleepless night, Kiva kept to her word and called me at 7:00 am. “Hey, can we talk?” she asked. Fearing the worst, I could barely answer. She confirmed she was caught off guard by my awkward proclamation. “I needed to be alone last night to put together my thoughts and feelings for you,” she continued. Then came the magic words, “I want you to know that I’ve fallen in love with you and I want us to be a couple.”
Kiva and I have been together ever since. Well, until now. With our relationship solidified, we both struck a balance between our careers and time with each other. She taught me a lot about many different things like music and art and I taught her how to play golf. She turned out to be pretty good at it. It’s funny, it seemed that women now paid more attention to me, even flirting more. They say that a man becomes more attractive when he’s with a beautiful woman. I was the guy that hooked Kiva Sheppard, so I must have had something, right?
Life was good. The sheer complexity of this woman both fascinated and puzzled me. She was extraordinarily talented in several ways, but somewhat of an enigma. I often wondered why a Yale Phi Beta Kappa member chose nursing, when she could have been anything. I know that sounds condescending to the great field of nursing. Kiva, herself, resents being asked why she’s “just a nurse”. But when you see her in action, it’s almost hard to envision her doing anything else. Her dedication, her technical wizardry, her style of speaking to patients is pure poetry.
We tried to keep our relationship low profile in the hospital, only communicating in public professionally or at lunch. Kiva had always been reluctant to date someone at work, so she didn’t want our relationship to be a distraction. Sometimes, she had fun with it. Kiva was very skilled at making inexperienced interns look good in the ICU. Once, I was with my supervising attending professor at the bedside of a man going into respiratory failure. The gruff old doc grumbled, “Dr. Raines, what do you propose we do?” Kiva saw me floundering and swooped right in for the rescue. Right in front of the professor she says, “Dr. Raines, I have the BiPAP mask you ordered set to 10/5 pressure and 10 liters of oxygen.” The thing was, I didn’t order it. Kiva knew what to do and ran with it, then gave me totally undeserved credit. The funny part was when the professor looked at me and said, “that’s good clinical thinking Dr. Raines. Good job.” ….. Oh Kiva.
We dated for three years. I finished my residency, then went into training to become a cardiologist. That was the perfect time to get married. We had a wonderful honeymoon in Montego Bay. We rented an apartment for a while, then bought a house. Kiva gave birth to our little girl, Clarissa. Everything was great. I was offered a position at the teaching hospital where I trained. Then, one of my mentors took a department chair job at University Hospital here and brought me along. It was too good of an offer to pass up. So that’s why we came to Texas. At first, I was concerned how Kiva would adjust. She lived in the northeast all her life and was leaving her family and friends. But she did just fine and was enjoying life here.
Then, as you know, Jake, things took an unexpected turn. Kiva came home one day, looking bruised and banged up. She said she was hit by an agitated dementia patient. Oddly, she didn’t report it to occupational safety which keeps track of healthcare worker injuries. Then she asked me if I had ever seen two women catfighting.
I just about fainted. I always had this fantasy about women wrestling or fighting. I think it started in 6th grade when a little girl stood up to this girl bully on the playground. She took her down and pinned her to the ground while the rest of us formed a circle around them and counted to ten. It just stuck in my mind. During adolescence, the idea of female fights seemed sexy. I have no idea why. It’s just a fantasy. I would never want to see anyone hurt. It was so confusing sometimes. I mean, I’m a doctor for God’s sake. I never mentioned it to Kiva. I didn’t need to. Our sex life was good and this was something I kept buried inside of me. But, you see, I had a few clips of old catfight videos I had hidden. I just assumed Kiva found them when she asked me that question. But that wasn’t the case. Kiva insisted she saw two women fighting and was fascinated by it. Then she asked me how I would feel if she was in a fight. I told her I wouldn’t like it which was the truth. Sure, I fantasized about Kiva in a wrestling ring or an apartment style match but never in real life. In my fantasies, Kiva always won. She was too smart and calculating, analyzing her opponents and exploiting their weaknesses.
Next, she brought the fantasy to the bedroom, the two of us roleplaying with her as a fighter and me as her cornerman. Next, she started writing short stories about female fights. Incredible. She even asked if it would be okay if she searched for another woman to arrange a safe carefully regulated fight. Of course, I told her no. It was strange. I was so excited and horrified at the same time. On one level, her fight talk was incredibly sexy. On the other hand, it sounded like it could be headed into dangerous territory. I never really thought of Kiva as an athlete. She went to the gym a lot. In high school, she was accomplished in softball and distance running, but didn’t pursue sports in college. What made her want to fight? I suggested she take martial arts classes to learn about fighting.
Then the unimaginable occurred. You know General Ruckman? Yeah, that old fart that hangs around Billy’s? Well, his wife Kyong and Kiva arranged a wrestling match in a sand bunker on the golf course. Yeah, the coffin. Did you hear about that? And they did it topless in front of me and the General. Watching them role around in the sand, sweating, grunting, shrieking was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life. It was so surreal. It was like I was in a trance. There was my bride, my love, covered in sand with her tits hanging out, getting all tied up and stretched by a little Asian woman one minute, then dominating the next. Kiva went home the winner. We took a shower together and…let’s just say I never looked at her the same way again. But in a good way. Kiva explained that fighting was really a personification of the competitiveness that most women feel, that it’s an honest expression and is more noble than the lying and gossiping that many women engage in to hurt each other.
So, I went online to research the current affairs of the catfight world. That’s how I found the catpin site. I searched for catfighters in our area. First, I saw Kelli’s profile, and then, there it was, my baby was officially a catfighter. Her so-called hospital accident was actually a fight with Freda, one of our interns who she knocked out. I was furious she didn’t tell me. What the hell was she thinking? If she wanted to fight, she shouldn’t have done it behind my back. At least I could have helped prevent her from getting injured. I learned about Kelli’s fight with Danielle MegaHurtz at Billy’s. I had a funny feeling, so I went there. And sure enough, there was Kiva. She lied to me. Well, you know the rest of the story. Kiva got into the cage and knocked out some redheaded skank. We had a big argument that night. Finally, we came to an agreement that we would be honest with each other from that point onward.
Kiva started working with a boxing trainer when she realized she had good punching power, then planned to study other disciplines. She won a few more fights. She beat a tough woman named Luanne in a dance studio. There was a boxing match with another skank at Billy’s. Then she started to get cocky. She fought this mousy social worker named Claire and agreed to stakes that, if she lost, she would take Claire’s nerdy brother’s virginity. I was pissed. Can you imagine? That scrawny geek boffing my wife? Kiva had a nightmare about it and had a panic attack before the match. As smart as she is, she can be incredibly off the wall sometimes.
But we were doing well. Catfighting added a whole new dimension to our relationship. It was exciting, it was sexy, and it was nerve wracking. We were closer than ever. We were happy. And then came the Cynthia fight.
You already know what happened, so I won’t go through it all. Cynthia was Clarissa’s cheerleading coach. She and Kiva arranged a fight in a ring at their house. In the days before the fight, they had a bitter exchange of words, the insults ran deep, and it turned into a kind of grudge match. Everything about that night was strange. There was college football stuff all over the house. Kiva joked that even their turds came out red with the number 18 imprinted on them. Cynthia was very cold to us; Josh tried to be hospitable and at least chatted with us.
Josh took us to their guest room for Kiva to change and assured us we’d have privacy. When he closed the door, Kiva and I were alone, and immediately the air seemed to change. We never had quiet moments to ourselves before her fights. I wasn’t even there for some of them. The fight with Claire the social worker was a farce. I was too much in shock for the Kyong wrestling match. She ran into the cage without me for the Ginger fight. She had her trainers at the boxing match at Billy’s. This time, she was in a fight with an accomplished athlete and I was really her cornerman. We both took a deep breath and looked at each other.
“Are you okay,” I asked
“Yeah.”
“You ready?”
“As ready as I’m gonna be.”
She started to strip. First, she kicked off her sandals and removed her top, then the shorts, then the bra. Wearing only her white panties, she began to bounce on her feet, shaking her arms and legs. I couldn’t help but notice her tits bouncing up and down in rhythm with the rest of her body. She stopped only to nervously pace around the room. She was feeling anxious and so was I. Finally, the panties came off. She walked to the opposite side of the bed, looking at her reflection in a full-length mirror, her lovely ass in full view.
“Tom?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the mirror. “Can you hand me my hair brush, It’s in my gym bag. And my hair bungees.”
As I rummaged through her bag, I was struck by an overwhelming feeling of love for my wife. She was pulling her hair back with her hands, her waist slightly bent. All of a sudden, I was a mischievous fourteen-year-old kid again. Taking a towel from the bag, I stretched it back, moved into close range, and aimed for Kiva’s immaculate bare butt. Snap!
“Hey! What the…What are you DOING? Give me my brush.”
“Come get it.” I repeatedly tossed the brush in the air, catching, then releasing with alternate hands like a juggler, quickly snatching it out of the air as Kiva tried to lunge for it.
“I don’t have time for this crap,” she complained. “Give it to me.”
“Make me.”
“Okay then.” Kiva took one step toward me, cocked her right hand, then buried her fist into my belly. I doubled over, moaned, then fell backward onto the bed, releasing the brush. It was the first and only time I felt Kiva’s punch. I feigned being hurt, but it was a harder punch than I expected. Kiva stood over me, giggling.
“Thank you,” she said as she reached for the brush. As she bent over, I seized her arm and pulled her onto the bed with me. Her squeal turned to laughter as I rolled her over and positioned myself on top of my beautiful naked wife, supported by my elbows. We kissed. We meshed our lips, then my mouth worked its way to her ears, her neck, the upper part of her chest. I noticed her nipples begin to stiffen. That was one thing about Kiva. Whenever she got turned on, her nipples always gave it away. I worked my tongue toward the left one while gently caressing the right one.
“Stop!” she ordered, pushing me back. “We can’t. Not now.” Kiva was right. She was about to have a tough fight and needed to get into the proper mental zone. I rolled off of her and we sat and the edge of the bed. At least now, the tension had broken. She rose from the bed, gave me a peck on the cheek, reminiscent of our first breakfast together, then walked back to the mirror with her hair brush and bungee band. After tying her hair into a bun, she walked back toward where I was still seated. I stood, we faced each other, then embraced. I thought about how her bare breasts pressing against me was much different than our first polite quick hug. “I love you, Tom,” she whispered. And I thought about how I thought I ruined our relationship when I first said those words to her.
I sat back down on the bed and Kiva followed, settling on my lap. I just held her, rubbing her shoulders, massaging her back. Our eyes met. We said nothing, we didn’t kiss. Our eyes said everything. Hers are so beautiful and blue. I was never happier and felt so lucky that she was my wife. My wife, my lover, mother to our daughter, an extraordinary nurse, a friend to so many, a warrior. It was one of those rare indescribable moments, a moment that I never wanted to end.
“My panties,’ she said, “I need my blue panties.” She retrieved the blue underwear from her gym bag. “Here they are.”
“I think those panties are lonely,” I said. “We have a present for you, Miss Blue.” I spoke. “We are going adopt a sister for you. She’s red. You two are going to get along just great.” Kiva passed her feet through them, pulled them up to her waist, then returned to my lap. Of course, after that day, we would never see Kiva’s blue panties again.
Kiva regained her focus on the fight, resuming her warmup stretches. “These people are ridiculous, I never wanted to beat anyone as much as I want to beat Cynthia.”
Knock. Knock. “You guys ready?” Josh asked. Kiva rose, put on her white terry cloth robe, and stretched one last time before we headed to the ring.
The situation got even weirder with all of those cheerleaders. I held the ropes open for Kiva as she entered the ring. I must say, that experience gave me a rush. I was a second, a cornerman and a valet to my beautiful fighter, like a worker bee tending to its queen. Then, Cynthia arrived wearing Josh’s jersey. When both ladies disrobed to their panties, I could see what Kiva was talking about. Cynthia was certainly beautiful. Wearing her husband’s football number on the back side of her panties seemed to take devotion to another level. Cynthia looked daunting; athletic, tightly muscled but feminine. Her boobs looked lively and firm. She showed off her flexibility and athleticism by her warm up exercises. And one other thing – she looked angry.
Kiva, for her part, looked confident. As I massaged her neck, back, and shoulders, I felt twinges of uneasiness as I gave her words of encouragement. I was more intimidated by Cynthia than Kiva was. Kiva looked like she was taking in the moment and couldn’t wait to start. She never fought in a ring before and it was clear she was excited. Once again, the nipples were betraying her.
Well Jake, I won’t bore you with the blow-by-blow details of the fight. All I will say is that it was a great back and forth fight with both ladies going at it hard. I was proud of Kiva. She’s not the natural athlete Cynthia is, but she hit Cynthia with a lot of shots and took some herself. She’s a better striker than a wrestler, but she showed off some grappling ability in this fight.
Flash forward to the end. Kiva had Cynthia in big trouble, but didn’t move in quickly for the kill. She wasted time and actually spit on this silly school logo they have in the middle of the ring. Kiva insists it was unintentional, but I’m not sure about that. Anyway, all it did was infuriate Cynthia to get off the canvas and beat the stuffings out of Kiva. She drove my wife into a corner and hit her with a hurricane of blows. When Kiva fell, Cynthia choked her with her legs just inches away from me. I thought it was over then, but Cynthia released her hold and dragged Kiva on her belly to the center of the ring where Kiva spat.
The most indelible image I have of the fight is Kiva’s face as Cynthia dragged her off. You see, we made eye contact. Kiva was glassy eyed but I know she saw me. I’ve looked into those blue eyes many times. Like when we had that first breakfast, when I realized I was in love with her, when we were in the dressing room just before the fight. It’s a bond only lovers know. It’s how Kiva and I communicate and as I watched distance between us grow more and more as Kiva was hauled away by Cynthia, like a hunter lugging a deer carcass. I knew she was trying to tell me something. It felt like a goodbye. Like a prisoner saying goodbye to a lover before being taken to a place of execution. And in a way, it was an execution. Cynthia would finish her off. Kiva certainly didn’t lose her life, but part of her identity would be lost and replaced with something else. I’ll explain more in a minute.
But first, another round, Jake? Ma’am, over here.
Yeah, Cynthia laid it on thick. She smeared Kiva into the canvas, made her kiss the logo, forced her to say she was a nobody, did a victory pose, took her blue panties and spat on her. She even did a dance in ring with the cheerleaders. It’s weird and it feels helpless to not intervene. When your wife is on the wrong side of a victory pose, you just want to knock the winner on her ass and say “Get the fuck away from her?” You just want to pick up your woman, take her home, clean her up and love on her. I’m sure that’s how you felt with Kelli’s losses. Right? But, no, the women have this understanding. Victory poses, taking panties, bikini tops are the winner’s prerogative.
When Cynthia was finally done, Kiva was still getting harassed by this little shit cheerleader I had to chase off. I threw Kiva’s terry cloth robe over her and got her out of the ring by sliding her under the lower rope. I picked her up and carried her back to the guest room, gently placing her on the bed. She was stunned, dehydrated, and had several scratches and I could see bruises were appearing. I told her I loved her and she fought a hell of a fight but she said nothing. She took water and I went over her face and body with a wet towel, wiping away grime, sweat, and spit. The eyes started to brighten but she remained quiet. I remembered we had brought a bottle of her favorite Cabernet Sauvignon red wine to celebrate if she had won. That bottle would remain unopened. “Let’s go home, honey,” I whispered to her.
That’s when Josh and Cynthia shocked us by asking us to stay for pizza and beer. No way, I thought. Do they want to be friends? How do you repair a relationship after what just happened? We declined at first, but Kiva shocked us with a reversal and agreed to stay. “Are you kidding me?’ I asked.
“I have to do this,” was her answer. She repeated, “I HAVE to do this.” I wondered if she wasn’t delirious. The Garrisons let Kiva use the bathroom to shower and change while they gave me a seat at their kitchen table. As we waited for Kiva, they brought out boxes of old photos and set up scores of pic files on their computer. When Kiva reemerged from the bathroom, she was wearing one of Josh’s jerseys that the Garrisons had given her. I couldn’t believe it. She brought another set of clean clothes; why the fuck was she wearing that? It was also evident from her eyes that she had been crying.
Kiva sat down next to me as the Garrison’s offered her pizza and beer. We then spent several hours hearing their college stories, looking at their photos and watching videos of their sports competitions. There was no mention of the fight. No negative words were spoken. Kiva’s countenance had changed. Instead of looking like a devastated woman, she had this acquiescence about her. She frequently added her comments to the Garrison’s stories and even laughed at their bad jokes. I got the feeling that she was done crying and decided to accept her situation. Then I started to see it. Her decision to wear the jersey was a sign of submission to let the Garrison’s know that she was ready to be their subordinate. Her voice had the passivity of a polite little girl addressing a friend’s parents at a sleepover. I could now see that she was staying with the Garrisons due to a sense of obligation. Cynthia and Josh wanted an audience to hear their excruciating stories and Kiva was there to provide it, regardless of how much time it cost. Now I understood what her eyes were saying to me in the final moments of the fight. The Kiva that entered the house with me was indeed saying goodbye.
I was mesmerized. I had never seen Kiva like this. She left the crushed defeated woman in the shower and came out with a new identity. But, in embracing her inferior status, she had this grace about her. Sitting across the table from her conqueror, instead of being a broken bawling mess, Kiva managed to make subservience look dignified, beautiful…and sexy.
The Garrisons were remarkably gracious for the rest of the night. They treated Kiva and I well, with the exception of us enduring their boring stories. Sometime way after midnight, we parted.
We resumed our normal lives. Kiva was sore for weeks. She needed more time to heal mentally and emotionally, but she planned to eventually fight again. I did everything I could to build her back up. We still had to face Cynthia; we didn’t want to take Clarissa out of cheerleading because of her parents’ conflicts. In retrospect, fighting someone who works with your kids is not the best idea. Kiva and I didn’t talk too much about the fight or its aftermath. I repeatedly told her that she fought very well and defeating Cynthia was within her grasp.
I never told Kiva how beautiful she was in defeat and how I was impressed by her resignation of it. I wish I had. I was afraid that she would misinterpret it into thinking I enjoyed seeing her physically or emotionally hurt. She was just as sexy and desirable in her subjection to the Garrison’s as she was in victory. I didn’t expect to feel that way, but I did. I thought about it for weeks. One night, I dreamed that I was a young peasant farm boy married to a beautiful servant girl. I worked in the fields all day while she toiled in the overlord’s house under the direction of his wife. The harsh conditions, long days of labor and mistreatment, and orders for my wife to report to the noble’s bedchamber couldn’t extinguish our dignity and love for each other.
I thought of a time in the ICU when a young man went into cardiac arrest after a cocaine binge. We attempted to resuscitate him for over an hour. Kiva had a central role in the code blue, working her butt off. In spite of our efforts, he died. Afterward, Kiva was demoralized, exhausted and deeply stressed. All I wanted to do was hug her. Her efforts caused me to love her even more. She looked just as strangely beautiful after a crushing tragedy. The next day, she was back at work with a different patient in a new situation. Maybe that’s what love is; always being there for your partner and seeing the beauty in them no matter how adverse the conditions.
So, Jake, why did I do what I did? I wish I had a good answer for that. It’s inexcusable, really. I’ll try explain the best I can. I was on the catpin site looking at some of the local action. Then, with a little time to kill, I went to this fetish site and started watching catfight clips. I’m not a big fan of these sites. You know, there are a lot of guys pretending to be women, trying to fulfill some fantasy. I’m watching these clips that have humiliating endings for one of the women, complete with victory poses. And these guys act like it’s the greatest thing ever. I’m thinking, that’s nothing compared to what Kiva endured. She’s so much better than all the winners and losers in this clip. And so much sexier. I’ll show them a real woman. The funny thing was that I didn’t think I was betraying Kiva at the time. I thought she probably wouldn’t really mind, since she had moved on from the Cynthia fight. Man, was I wrong. It was a terrible betrayal. I’ve always been disgusted with how guys on these sites post bullshit stories and pics of their wives and girlfriends without their knowledge or permission. Well, guess what? I became one of them.
Oh Kiva. I’m so sorry. Just talk to me. It’ll be better next time. What do you want me to do? Do you like guys fighting? I’ll do it. I heard she was seen with one of our residents who fights and is a womanizer. I couldn’t believe it. She hated guys like that.
It’s getting late. Thanks for listening Jake. It’s last call. One more?
We had such a great life together. I fucked up. But it was wonderful. I know we can get it back again. I’m not saying it was perfect. We’re all human. I’m sure you and Kelli had some bumps on the road. I’m not perfect. No one is.
And Kiva is certainly not perfect. No Sir. Far from it. She was fast and efficient and incredible at work, but at home, she was kind of a slob. You could always tell when she was in the kitchen. There would be crumbs all over the counter. And she’d leave clothes in the dryer for days before putting them away. And what a procrastinator. She paid bills right at the due date. And she had this habit of singing or humming whenever she was working on something.
And you know what drove me nuts? As smart as she was, could be a real airhead sometimes. I think her head was in the clouds half the time. Sometimes she would tune out while I was talking to her. Probably thinking about some song in her head or a story she was making up. It drove me nuts. It was rude as hell. Well, you know what? I don’t need it. Fuck that! Fuck you, Kiva! You hear me, fuck you! Go ahead and run around with Frank or whoever. I don’t need you! FUCK YOU!
I…Oh, I, Oh my God, I’m sorry, Jake. I’m so sorry. And I’m sorry, Kiva. I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t . I..I.
“Sir, are you okay. Here, we have tissues.”
I’m okay ma’am.
“Well, we’re going to be closing soon. That will be your last drink. I think you’ve had enough. Can your friend take you home or do you want us to get Uber?”
Yes, this is the last one. Jake, thanks for letting me bend your ear. When is our tee time tomorrow? You’re a good friend. Here’s to friendship. Here’s to health. Here’s to you and Kelli. Here’s to happiness....And here’s to my baby.
Yes, one for my baby. And one for the road.
Here are some pics of Kiva and I in happier times.
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Wow. Just wow.
What a mesmerizing story. It is very hard for writers to get into the antagonist's viewpoint. Tom is clearly the villain of the tale for doing what he did. Yet this version of the story makes me see how he saw the events, as well as give us a major dose of backstory on both Tom and Kiva's characters. As I suspected, the view of Kiva's character from Tom was of a changed woman, which he did not quite recognize. His pride got in his way and caused him to make the fateful decision to post the video where it did not belong. I don't think Tom is evil, rather misguided at times. Unfortunately his blunder was an unforgivable one.
It was beautiful and sad, the best of times and the worst of times. Putting this story together with your original one and the story from Josh's point of view allows us to see a completed picture of the crucial events of the night Cynthia and Kiva fought. Tom and Kiva will never be able to reconcile, despite Tom's hopes. The wound goes too deep. We can only hope that the two characters move forward and find happiness elsewhere.
Thank you, Kiva, for an amazing chapter.
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Another great chapter as usual. The only thing I can add is: oh, the humanity!
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Another great chapter as usual. The only thing I can add is: oh, the humanity!
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I think Kiva should take him back. He's obviously still head-over-heels in love with her (and no wonder, looking at her, and given all we know about her character). He hasn't flipped and gone over to the Cynthia camp. She's obviously made an impression and it would be silly in any case for him to act like a poor loser when Kiva herself was exemplary in defeat.
What Kiva doesn't get (mansplaining alert!) is that he wasn't/isn't responding to some deep-seated desire to see her humiliated. If the same humiliation had been inflicted on her by a man, or by a group of women, or she'd just somehow humiliated herself, his anger, indignation and sorrow would have been palliated (sullied?) by no sexual gratification at all. It's never the humiliation per se. It's more about emulation - sexual rivalry - two women, both ultra-competitive, both gorgeous, both filled with the spirit of emulation, and the decisive triumph of one over the other.
If this had ended with Kiva's heel on Cynthia's sternum, with Cynthia timidly raising her pelvis to allow Kiva to strip her of her panties and hold them aloft, and - before that - with Cynthia screaming, her body bent in an agonizing arc as she's forced to admit her inferiority, and with Kiva, the sexy, mocking, mischievous, exulting, triumphant winner, laying down the law to the woman, trapped one moment in an excruciating hold, lying conquered at her feet the next, it would have been every bit as much of a turn-on. And more!
Why, I won't attempt to explain, and probably couldn't, but believe me, Kiva, it's so. He loves you. He wants you back. Make him squirm a little, crawl, go down on one knee as he did when he first proposed to you, but take him back. Please. If you don't owe it to him, you owe it to yourself. Take him back.
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I think Kiva should take him back. He's obviously still head-over-heels in love with her (and no wonder, looking at her, and given all we know about her character). He hasn't flipped and gone over to the Cynthia camp. She's obviously made an impression and it would be silly in any case for him to act like a poor loser when Kiva herself was exemplary in defeat.
What Kiva doesn't get (mansplaining alert!) is that he wasn't/isn't responding to some deep-seated desire to see her humiliated. If the same humiliation had been inflicted on her by a man, or by a group of women, or she'd just somehow humiliated herself, his anger, indignation and sorrow would have been palliated (sullied?) by no sexual gratification at all. It's never the humiliation per se. It's more about emulation - sexual rivalry - two women, both ultra-competitive, both gorgeous, both filled with the spirit of emulation, and the decisive triumph of one over the other.
If this had ended with Kiva's heel on Cynthia's sternum, with Cynthia timidly raising her pelvis to allow Kiva to strip her of her panties and hold them aloft, and - before that - with Cynthia screaming, her body bent in an agonizing arc as she's forced to admit her inferiority, and with Kiva, the sexy, mocking, mischievous, exulting, triumphant winner, laying down the law to the woman, trapped one moment in an excruciating hold, lying conquered at her feet the next, it would have been every bit as much of a turn-on. And more!
Why, I won't attempt to explain, and probably couldn't, but believe me, Kiva, it's so. He loves you. He wants you back. Make him squirm a little, crawl, go down on one knee as he did when he first proposed to you, but take him back. Please. If you don't owe it to him, you owe it to yourself. Take him back.
Not for the first time, H_K's making perfect sense here. It might help if Kiva were to talk to Josh because he totally gets it, and so, I'm sure, does Jake.
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I too would like to see Kiva and Tom reconcile. I suspect each one of them will never be as happy as they were prior to the fight with Cynthia.
But Kiva is principled. You can see it in the backstory of how Tom and Kiva got together. From Kiva's point of view ,there are rules about how one should behave both as a professional and as a couple She firmly feels Tom betrayed her, and I think she would feel she was betraying herself if she reconciled with Tom. I fear she will never find happiness in her love life. She went off after Frank's character, which was always going to be a bad idea. She needs to find someone with many of Tom's characteristics, without it actually being Tom so that she can come to the relationship with a blank slate. Good luck with that.
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Thank you all for reading. Special thanks for the comments. I know the backstory was a bit long. Very nice of Jake to sit through that. I hope the rye was good.
It was fun to write. As many of you know, I love making characters who resonate with me and are relatable to readers. There’s a lot of the “real me” in these stories, but that would be the boring parts. The fictional Kiva is really an exaggerated and embellished version of me. No one (to my knowledge) ever said both sides of my brain are turbocharged. But I have been accused of being messy in the kitchen and a procrastinator.
Coachzzz, I think you are right. A reconciliation would be difficult if attempted and would likely run into long term challenges. We’ll see how it plays out.
h_k, you make a good point. The humiliated defeated wife fantasy is very common here. I’ve chatted with some guys who feel guilty and conflicted about it (don’t worry guys, I live by confidentiality for a living). For catfight fetishizers, is the humiliation turn on specific to fight fantasies and not other forms of humiliation, as you suggest? I would certainly hope so,
Finally, should I feel insulted that a pic of the Hindenburg disaster received over 10 times the views than my family photos? I realize the photos are sad to look at and the resolution sucks, but only 10% as interesting as the Hindenburg? Well, OK then.
Wish you all well,
-Kiva
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h_k, you make a good point. The humiliated defeated wife fantasy is very common here.
Finally, should I feel insulted that a pic of the Hindenburg disaster received over 10 times the views than my family photos? I realize the photos are sad to look at and the resolution sucks, but only 10% as interesting as the Hindenburg? Well, OK then.
-Kiva
Oh, my poor baby! But you got so many more likes than the Hindenburg, and viewing the images only makes them a bit bigger (a tiny bit bigger) without increasing the resolution, so it's pointless. I bet people only clicked the Hindenburg link out of curiosity – either because they hadn't seen it before or to discover what "oh the humanity" had to do with it. In short: you look gorgeous in the photos.
(As for the Hindenburg, it was certainly not looking its best in this one, and if you ask me, at its best even was a bit of a blimp.)
Personally, I think it's more about conquest than humiliation, and if my girlfriend were in a fight, I'd want her to win (like I wanted you to win this one). She wouldn't need to humiliate the other woman. Just "show her".