28 Days and 27 of them had something in common now., They were in the past. The 28th had a quarter of an hour left. Kait sat in her car in front of the mansion and took a look at the cars around her. Everyone else was already here. Just as she'd planned.
28 Days, and, in just about every way, this one had been the worst, a combination of those good days when all of this was just a niggling at the back of the mind and the miserable days when it been front and center. A terrible combination.
It was Friday, a work day, and she'd thought about taking the day off, but had figured she could use the distraction of work. She hadn't been wrong. When she was working, with her mind on other things, she'd been fine and time had gone by quickly. But, at lunch, the coming battle was all she could think about. She'd picked at her salad, taken, maybe, three bites, and gone back to the office early. The worst part, though, had been after five o'clock. Traffic had been light, and that had not been a blessing. She had almost a quarter of a day to kill before she could even leave for the mansion. She'd tried to distract herself with reading, but, after staring at the same page for ten minutes, had tossed her Kindle aside and given up.
There was nothing for it. Her mind was in overdrive, the clock wasn't moving, it was awful. She spent the rest of the evening pacing around the house, willing time to pass. It was all she could do to stop herself from leaving the house at 11. She waited until 11:15 as planned, so she'd be the last to arrive, as she had been. It was all going according to plan.
Kaitlyn had character flaws as we all do, but those were far outweighed by the strengths of her character. And one of those strengths was an ability to be honest with herself. And, she was honest with herself about the plan. It was a good one. She firmly believed it would work, that she would defeat Absynthe. But, she knew failure was a possibility. She was confident, but she didn't know, couldn't know until they were in combat. Until then, she could only hope. Hope? No. She wasn't reduced to hope. She believed. She believed her breasts were superior to the brunette's and would prove so. And, she also believed in psychology and knew well how to use it.
It hadn't taken the blonde long to realize that the High Priestess was a master of psychology and manipulation. Unfortunately for the brunette, Kaitlyn had been a psych major in school and understood people like Absynthe well. If she knew the High Priestess, and Kait was confident that she did, the last four weeks had been as difficult for the brunette as they had for the blonde. Because, Absynthe was all about control.
The High Priestess had worked for years to gain complete control of the coven, and, until last month's meeting, she was confident she'd done so. The other twelve members are all loyal, cowed, or both. Absynthe could do what she wanted without fear of any pushback from anyone. And, then, Kaitlyn had pushed back.
Understandably, the brunette's initial reaction had been a combination of shock and anger. Kait, of course, had seen nothing more than that initial reaction, as she hadn't been in the High Priestess' company since that night. But, she hadn't needed to. She knew, from Amanda, that after the shock had worn off, it had been replaced by fury. And, the fury had been joined by a ration of fear. Or, perhaps, "fear" wasn't the right word. Perhaps the emotion had been more concern than fear. But, the semantics didn't matter. The blonde was certain the fury had been joined by one of those.
For four weeks, Absynthe had been dealing with those emotions. And, Kait firmly believed that something else had crept into that mix. It had to have. Perhaps just a pinch. Perhaps a little more. But, the brunette had to have been feeling at least a little doubt.
It was almost certianly just a little. After all, Absynthe had beaten all comers and had not seen Kaitlyn as any kind of rival, or she would never have allowed her into the coven. The High Priestess, though, was nothing of not intelligent, and it had to have occurred to her that Kait herself was confident of victory, or she would never have challenged. And, as Kait had seen Absynthe in combat and the brunette had never seen the blonde in a fight, Kait obviously knew a lot more about Absynthe's tit-fighting ability than the brunette knew about hers. There was doubt. There had to be doubt.
Absynthe feeling that cocktail of emotions? Also part of the plan. And, the plan called for letting her feel them right to the last moment. That's why Kaitlyn was sitting in her car. 11:50 now, according to the Apple watch. She'd need less than five minutes to make the walk from the car to the circle of combat, so she'd wait a bit longer. In the mean time, she imagined the scene.
Eleven of them would be standing in a semi-circle around the Circle of combat, the fire pit at six o'clock burning high. Absynthe would be standing off by herself, awaiting Kaitlyn's arrival. And, they all, save Amanda, had to be wondering by now. Amanda knew she was coming. But, the other eleven? Doubt again. As every moment passed, they had to be having doubts. Perhaps she'd gotten cold feet and would not show up, forfeiting the contest and her membership while avoiding the pain, humiliation and punishment that came with defeat. They were all thinking it by now, and, Absynthe, despite herself and despite what she'd say if asked, was undoubtedly hoping for it. Well. The bitch's hopes were about to be dashed. The Apple watch said 11:55. Kait took a deep breath, and then opened the car door.
It was 11:58 as the blonde strode into the meadow, head held high. She could now see the scene she'd imagined, eleven cloaked, cowled witches in a semi-circle around the Circle of Combat. Absynthe standing alone, waiting. Everyone silent, per the rules of the ritual. No one, save the combatants, could say a word or make a sound until the combat was over. No cheering, no encouraging, nothing. Silence. And, even the challenger and the High Priestess had to remain silent until they were inside the circle.
The eleven non-combatants, then, stood, cowled and cloaked, watching as Kait stepped to the edge of the circle and waited. And, in what seemed like an instant later, the faint sound of the huge grandfather clock inside the mansion could be heard. Midnight. The time was at hand.
Absynthe stepped immediately into the circle and whipped down her cowl. Her icy blue eyes seemed to shoot daggers at the blonde, who remained outside, as prescribed in the ancient regulations. Absynthe then kicked off her shoes, revealing red painted toes and slowly removed her cloak. She was wearing only her bra and panties beneath. They were blood red, both of them, making a sharp contrast to her creamy-white skin. Her legs were shapely, her fingernails, long and sharp, also painted blood red. Her belly was flat and slightly muscled, her ass round and rock hard, and her breasts high and proud, her hard nipples readily seen poking at the bra.
"Tonight," she began, "We have a challenger for the position of High Priestess. Therefore, we shall have a contest to determine who has the best breasts here in the Circle of Combat. The rules are simple, breast versus breast in a bear hug. The fight will be to the finish. Victory can come via verbal submission, the voluntary leaving of the Circle by one of the fighters, or a fighter being unable to beat a ten count and continue. The winner of the fight will be the High Priestess. The loser will be at the High Priestess' mercy."
At that point, Absynthe gathered her robe and shoes and carefully placed them outside the circle. When she was finished, Kaitlyn stepped inside, whipping back her cowl and locking eyes with Absynthe. The blonde removed her shoes first, revealing toes painted baby blue. Yes. She was leaning into the dreams, because she was confident they would not be coming true. She then lifted the cloak over her head and dropped it to the ground. She was fully clothed, and there was psychology in that, as well. She wanted the bitch to watch.
Kait removed her jeans first, slowly dropping them to her feet and stepping out of them, revealing black panties, legs every bit as shapely and sexy as Absynthe's, and an ass that, while not quite as perfect as the High Priestess', was plenty sexy. Next, she turned away from the High Priestess and lifted her shirt over her head, revealing a flat, freckled tummy. She turned around, shoulders back, giving Absynthe the full view of her magnificent freckled C-cups, which were, indeed, larger than those of the High Priestess.
The pair locked eyes again and stared at one another for what seemed to Kait like a long time but, in reality, was only seconds. Then, Absynthe spoke. "Let us begin!" she said, and opened her arms wide, like the spider. But, the blonde was certain that her rival was actually the doomed fly. Kaitlyn stepped forward, pressing her breasts into those of the brunette and locking her arms behind the High Priestess. Absynthe did likewise and, immediately, the blonde gasped.
The other eleven witches remained silent, but they quickly exchanged glances. This was going to be quick. The challenger was already in trouble. She'd soon be down in the basement. But, it wasn't what they thought. The gasp hadn't come as a result of the beginnings of the battle between the two magnificent racks. Kait had been reacting to the feel of Absynthe's long nails digging into her back. It hurt like hell. But, the blonde didn't let that pain distract her from the matter at hand. She squeezed the brunette tightly and thrust her rack into her rivals. And, got a satisfying little exhale from the High Priestess in return. Then, Absynthe returned the favor. Kait made not a sound, but closed her eyes and tightened her lips as she felt the opposing breasts slam into hers. The bitch was every bit as strong and firm as Amanda said. This wasn't going to be easy. But, Kait had known that coming in.
First the blonde and then the brunette. Tightening their respective grips, flexing their legs, then thrusting their racks forward into the breasts opposing them. Back and forth. For five minutes. And, glances were being exchanged outside the circle again. No, this was not going to be quick. Kaitlyn was giving every bit as good as she was getting. Things were dead even, and, while ten of the women outside the circle were still confident Absynthe would win, the eleventh, Amanda, was now beginning to believe the blonde might be able to pull this off.
Absynthe squeezed and thrust her breasts forward, bringing a little "hmmmm" from the lips of her rival. The High Priestess smiled wickedly and said, "Give up now, Kaitlyn, and I'll go easy on you..." The blonde did not reply, simply thrusting her freckled breasts back at and getting that same satisfying little exhale in return for her efforts. The brunette thrust back, getting an exhale of her own, "hhhhhhh" from the blonde. "Eight hours on the wall, bitch, then you can crawl away..." The blonde replied this time. "Fuck you..." she said, and thrust back, driving a little more air out of the High Priestess.
Absynthe snarled, "You had your chance, you little slut. I've got plans for you. They'll talk about this night for centuries!" The brunette thrust again, and, again, the blonde exhaled a little air as the firm breasts of the brunette drove into hers. "Keep talking, bitch," she spat back, and thrust once again, bringing an "unnnnnn" from the lips of the brunette. But, they did not. Keep talking, that is. The fighters lapsed back into silence as they continued their even battle for supremacy.
It was cold. It was fall, after all, and after midnight. The eleven cloaked witches outside the circle could feel the cold, even those nearest the fire pit, and they were fully clothed beneath the cloaks. The women inside the circle, in only bras and panties, had to have been freezing at the start of the battle, but, it was clear they weren't feeling the cold now. Ten minutes had gone by and they were both covered with sweat from their exertions. Both sets of legs shimmered in the light of the full moon and the flickering red light thrown by the fire in the pit. Both tummies were sweat slick as they rubbed against one another. Both pairs of arms shimmered like the legs. And, both bras were soaked with perspiration as their contents continued to battle for supremacy.
There were eleven sets of eyes locked on the competitors inside the Circle, but ten were concentrating on Absynthe. And, they were seeing what they always saw whenever someone had been foolish enough to challenge her, the High Priestess' strong, fit, awesome body being used as a weapon to ferociously attack her rival. Ten minutes had gone by and the brunette hadn't slowed a bit. Aside from the sweat she still looked every bit as fresh as she had when the contest started.
The eleventh set of eyes, however, was on the blonde challenger. They were absolutely not seeing what they always saw. By now, in every one of Absynthe's fights Amanda had witnesses, the challenger had been showing signs, sometimes only subtle ones, sometimes obvious ones, of beginning to fade. But, not tonight. Kaitlyn was staying right with the brunette, challenging her more than she'd ever been challenged in a fight before. Her friend might well go down like all the others had, Amanda knew, but she was going to put a scare into the High Priestess before she did so.
But, there was no fear in Absynthe. None at all. The overwhelming emotion she was feeling was rage. The little bitch was beginning to weaken. The High Priestess could feel it. She had her. It was just a matter of time. And Kaitlyn had to know it. But, time was the issue. She was making a fight of this, refusing to give in, and that was denting the brunette's armor of invincibility. And all that meant was that the punishment she was to suffer would be all the greater. Absynthe would make sure that, after tonight, no one would dare challenge again.
Kaitlyn was experiencing no fear, either. The fight was approaching the fifteen minute mark, and there was no sign that Absynthe was slowing, but Kait had expected that. She knew a big part of the bitch's tit-fight success was in her stamina. The blonde knew it was going to take time and effort to wear the brunette down and crush her, but she was confident she'd do just that.
Two women. Both confident of victory. But. One of them was wrong.
