11
Catfighting / Re: Therapy Session (Part 9)
« Last post by The Hunter on Yesterday at 08:44:19 PM »Fun
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12
Catfighting / Therapy Session (Part 9)
« Last post by AIWriter on Yesterday at 08:37:59 PM »The silence held.
Not empty. Not awkward.
Loaded.
Elise broke it first, but only by degrees. Her head tilted, eyes still locked on Morgan, her voice almost conversational — which somehow made it sharper.
“You know,” she said, “you talk a great deal about awareness. About reading a situation before it unfolds.” A pause. “Yet you seem surprised every time I refuse to give you space.”
Morgan’s jaw tightened, just slightly. “I’m not surprised,” she said. “I’m adjusting.”
Elise’s lips curved. “That’s an interesting way to describe recalculating.”
Alan felt the exchange hit him low and hard — not because of what they said, but how they said it. Each word was measured, chosen, released like a probe.
Morgan stepped sideways, mirroring Elise’s earlier movement, clearing the table completely now. The distance between them was no longer symbolic.
“You’re assuming,” Morgan said evenly, “that I’d let you dictate the rhythm.”
Elise’s brow lifted. “And you’re assuming I’d need to.”
A breath passed.
Then another.
The room felt smaller again, as if the walls had leaned in to listen.
Alan noticed details he hadn’t before — the way Elise’s weight was distributed evenly through her feet, knees soft, ready. The way Morgan’s shoulders stayed relaxed even as her stance widened a fraction, her balance settling.
Neither woman looked at him now.
They were no longer performing.
They were engaging.
“If this were purely theoretical,” Elise said, “you’d already be reaching.”
Morgan’s eyes flicked, briefly, to Elise’s hands. “And if this were,” she replied, “you’d already be waiting for me to.”
The exchange drew something dangerously close to a smile from Elise.
“Careful,” she said. “That’s almost an admission.”
Morgan took one deliberate step closer.
Not aggressive.
Not hesitant.
Close enough now that the air between them felt shared.
“Only if you mistake clarity for confession,” Morgan said.
Alan’s breath caught. This was no longer a thought experiment. This was two women testing where control lived — not in strength, not in dominance, but in who moved next.
Elise did not retreat.
She leaned in just enough that Morgan could feel the shift.
“Then tell me,” Elise said quietly, “how long do you think you could hold your position before your body chose for you?”
Morgan didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to.
The answer was in the way she stayed exactly where she was.
Alan cleared his throat. The sound felt loud in the room, a deliberate interruption.
“I need to ask something,” he said. His voice was steady, but there was no mistaking the urgency underneath it. “Because whatever this is… it’s not theoretical anymore.”
Both women turned to him at once.
Alan met their eyes, first Morgan’s, then Elise’s. “What do you think is actually going on here?” he asked. “And what do you think will happen—has to happen—if we keep going?”
A beat passed.
Then Elise straightened, just a fraction, reclaiming the role of analyst even as the edge remained. “What’s going on,” she said, “is that two people who are used to thinking in abstractions have encountered something that refuses abstraction.”
She glanced at Morgan. “There’s a convergence of attention, of intent. It creates pressure. Pressure seeks resolution.”
Morgan didn’t look away. “And resolution,” she added quietly, “doesn’t mean escalation for its own sake. It means clarity. Naming what’s being tested.”
Alan nodded slowly. “And what’s being tested?”
Elise answered without hesitation. “Control.”
Morgan continued, her voice calm but unmistakably firm. “Boundaries. And whether they’re being held because they’re chosen—or because they’ve never been challenged.”
Alan let that settle. “So what happens next?”
Silence returned, heavier now because the question demanded an answer.
Elise said, “If we keep going without acknowledging it, something breaks.”
Morgan finished the thought. “If we acknowledge it—fully—then it has to be contained. Structured. Or it becomes something none of us intended.”
Alan exhaled. “So either way… something gives.”
“Yes,” Elise said. “Pressure doesn’t dissipate on its own.”
Morgan met Alan’s gaze. “It resolves.”
Alan nodded once, absorbing it. Then he asked the question that had been sitting just behind his teeth. “Okay. Then what are the next steps?” He held their attention, voice even. “If resolution is inevitable… how do you actually get there? What does contained look like?”
Elise answered first, measured and precise. “Containment means agreement. Explicit terms. Time, roles, limits. We don’t drift forward—we decide.”
Morgan added, “It also means naming intent before action. What is being explored, and what is not. Without that, the pressure finds its own outlet.”
Alan leaned back slightly, giving them space to speak. “So… structure before movement.”
“Yes,” Elise said. “Structure creates safety.”
“And safety,” Morgan said, “creates clarity.”
A pause.
Alan looked between them. “So what would the first step be?”
Elise considered. “We step back—literally. Reset the room. Sit. Breathe. Then decide whether to continue, and under what framework.”
Morgan nodded. “And if we continue, we document the purpose. Observation, not demonstration. Language, not contact.”
Alan’s brow furrowed slightly. “And if the pressure doesn’t ease?”
Elise didn’t hesitate. “Then the step after that is to stop.”
Morgan finished, quietly but firmly, “Because choosing restraint is also a form of resolution.”
Alan absorbed that, then leaned forward again, elbows hovering above his knees. “I need to ask this plainly,” he said. “Is stopping—restraint—actually what each of you wants right now?”
The question landed differently.
Not as analysis.
As accountability.
Elise’s eyes flicked to Morgan before returning to Alan. “Want is a complicated word,” she said. “Professionally, restraint is appropriate. Intellectually, it’s defensible.”
She paused, choosing precision over comfort. “But desire isn’t governed by appropriateness. It’s governed by pressure.”
Morgan inhaled slowly. “For me,” she said, “restraint is familiar. It’s a skill I trust. But wanting it—” She stopped, then continued. “Wanting it is not the same as choosing it.”
Alan nodded. “So choosing to stop would be… a decision. Not a relief.”
“Yes,” Elise said. “A decision with consequences.”
Morgan added, softly but clearly, “And choosing to continue would also have consequences.”
A beat.
Alan looked between them. “Which choice do you think either of you would regret less?”
Silence returned—this time not charged with heat, but with honesty.
Elise answered first. “I would regret pretending there’s nothing here.”
Morgan didn’t hesitate. “I would regret not naming it.”
Neither answered the question directly.
But the room understood them anyway.
Not empty. Not awkward.
Loaded.
Elise broke it first, but only by degrees. Her head tilted, eyes still locked on Morgan, her voice almost conversational — which somehow made it sharper.
“You know,” she said, “you talk a great deal about awareness. About reading a situation before it unfolds.” A pause. “Yet you seem surprised every time I refuse to give you space.”
Morgan’s jaw tightened, just slightly. “I’m not surprised,” she said. “I’m adjusting.”
Elise’s lips curved. “That’s an interesting way to describe recalculating.”
Alan felt the exchange hit him low and hard — not because of what they said, but how they said it. Each word was measured, chosen, released like a probe.
Morgan stepped sideways, mirroring Elise’s earlier movement, clearing the table completely now. The distance between them was no longer symbolic.
“You’re assuming,” Morgan said evenly, “that I’d let you dictate the rhythm.”
Elise’s brow lifted. “And you’re assuming I’d need to.”
A breath passed.
Then another.
The room felt smaller again, as if the walls had leaned in to listen.
Alan noticed details he hadn’t before — the way Elise’s weight was distributed evenly through her feet, knees soft, ready. The way Morgan’s shoulders stayed relaxed even as her stance widened a fraction, her balance settling.
Neither woman looked at him now.
They were no longer performing.
They were engaging.
“If this were purely theoretical,” Elise said, “you’d already be reaching.”
Morgan’s eyes flicked, briefly, to Elise’s hands. “And if this were,” she replied, “you’d already be waiting for me to.”
The exchange drew something dangerously close to a smile from Elise.
“Careful,” she said. “That’s almost an admission.”
Morgan took one deliberate step closer.
Not aggressive.
Not hesitant.
Close enough now that the air between them felt shared.
“Only if you mistake clarity for confession,” Morgan said.
Alan’s breath caught. This was no longer a thought experiment. This was two women testing where control lived — not in strength, not in dominance, but in who moved next.
Elise did not retreat.
She leaned in just enough that Morgan could feel the shift.
“Then tell me,” Elise said quietly, “how long do you think you could hold your position before your body chose for you?”
Morgan didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to.
The answer was in the way she stayed exactly where she was.
Alan cleared his throat. The sound felt loud in the room, a deliberate interruption.
“I need to ask something,” he said. His voice was steady, but there was no mistaking the urgency underneath it. “Because whatever this is… it’s not theoretical anymore.”
Both women turned to him at once.
Alan met their eyes, first Morgan’s, then Elise’s. “What do you think is actually going on here?” he asked. “And what do you think will happen—has to happen—if we keep going?”
A beat passed.
Then Elise straightened, just a fraction, reclaiming the role of analyst even as the edge remained. “What’s going on,” she said, “is that two people who are used to thinking in abstractions have encountered something that refuses abstraction.”
She glanced at Morgan. “There’s a convergence of attention, of intent. It creates pressure. Pressure seeks resolution.”
Morgan didn’t look away. “And resolution,” she added quietly, “doesn’t mean escalation for its own sake. It means clarity. Naming what’s being tested.”
Alan nodded slowly. “And what’s being tested?”
Elise answered without hesitation. “Control.”
Morgan continued, her voice calm but unmistakably firm. “Boundaries. And whether they’re being held because they’re chosen—or because they’ve never been challenged.”
Alan let that settle. “So what happens next?”
Silence returned, heavier now because the question demanded an answer.
Elise said, “If we keep going without acknowledging it, something breaks.”
Morgan finished the thought. “If we acknowledge it—fully—then it has to be contained. Structured. Or it becomes something none of us intended.”
Alan exhaled. “So either way… something gives.”
“Yes,” Elise said. “Pressure doesn’t dissipate on its own.”
Morgan met Alan’s gaze. “It resolves.”
Alan nodded once, absorbing it. Then he asked the question that had been sitting just behind his teeth. “Okay. Then what are the next steps?” He held their attention, voice even. “If resolution is inevitable… how do you actually get there? What does contained look like?”
Elise answered first, measured and precise. “Containment means agreement. Explicit terms. Time, roles, limits. We don’t drift forward—we decide.”
Morgan added, “It also means naming intent before action. What is being explored, and what is not. Without that, the pressure finds its own outlet.”
Alan leaned back slightly, giving them space to speak. “So… structure before movement.”
“Yes,” Elise said. “Structure creates safety.”
“And safety,” Morgan said, “creates clarity.”
A pause.
Alan looked between them. “So what would the first step be?”
Elise considered. “We step back—literally. Reset the room. Sit. Breathe. Then decide whether to continue, and under what framework.”
Morgan nodded. “And if we continue, we document the purpose. Observation, not demonstration. Language, not contact.”
Alan’s brow furrowed slightly. “And if the pressure doesn’t ease?”
Elise didn’t hesitate. “Then the step after that is to stop.”
Morgan finished, quietly but firmly, “Because choosing restraint is also a form of resolution.”
Alan absorbed that, then leaned forward again, elbows hovering above his knees. “I need to ask this plainly,” he said. “Is stopping—restraint—actually what each of you wants right now?”
The question landed differently.
Not as analysis.
As accountability.
Elise’s eyes flicked to Morgan before returning to Alan. “Want is a complicated word,” she said. “Professionally, restraint is appropriate. Intellectually, it’s defensible.”
She paused, choosing precision over comfort. “But desire isn’t governed by appropriateness. It’s governed by pressure.”
Morgan inhaled slowly. “For me,” she said, “restraint is familiar. It’s a skill I trust. But wanting it—” She stopped, then continued. “Wanting it is not the same as choosing it.”
Alan nodded. “So choosing to stop would be… a decision. Not a relief.”
“Yes,” Elise said. “A decision with consequences.”
Morgan added, softly but clearly, “And choosing to continue would also have consequences.”
A beat.
Alan looked between them. “Which choice do you think either of you would regret less?”
Silence returned—this time not charged with heat, but with honesty.
Elise answered first. “I would regret pretending there’s nothing here.”
Morgan didn’t hesitate. “I would regret not naming it.”
Neither answered the question directly.
But the room understood them anyway.
13
General Discussion about Catfights / Re: Consequences/stakes
« Last post by Donnyrocket on Yesterday at 08:28:54 PM »I just messaged you Tropic55
-Donny
-Donny
Thanks for responding. Beautiful photo by the way. No this fight has t happened yet. With the holidays it is looking like beggining of January.
Donny can you post the ladies pages they created please.
-DonnyHow has the fight already happed if it'd not here.
And anyone know who's fighting?
14
Members Catfight Polls! / Re: Christmas Chaos CherylManteo battles Ivanna (Holly) Garner
« Last post by SexyTink on Yesterday at 06:02:41 PM »I giggle at the notion that you think Cheryl would win this match. Oh Marlu dont be crazy. Clearly Holly will kick that bitch Cheryl's ass. The side of our breast touches as out thighs rub against each other. But I agree Marlu, it will be a close fight.I think it'll be a very close fight, but I'd bet on Cheryl. I think she'll win... My thighs brushing against yours and our breasts touching side by side as we settle in to watch the fightI got got Rowdy's invitation to what might be the best fight to end the year. I arrive at the spot a little early to get a good seat. But to my surprise I wasn't the only one here. I see that bitch Marlu seating by herself fixing her hair. I make my way and seat next to her. Making sure I bump into her. Well looks like this is going to be an interesting match up hmmmmm Marlu.If that's what it looks like, Tiffany... while I watch you arrange your girls inside the top... I see Holly appear, looking very provocative, as she heads to her room to prepare for battle.
I look over at Marlu with a sly smirk. Crossing my legs, making sure my thighs touch hers as if I was challenging her. So...Marlu, who are you putting your money on in this battle?
15
General Discussion about Catfights / Re: Fetishes hereditary?
« Last post by sender on Yesterday at 05:43:31 PM »yes . think everything is inherited . if you like to workout but get highblood pressure and diabetes anyway . all inherited . but now so many outlets than before. so back inthe early years could only get a glimps of a catfight on t.v. or movies . of back of wrestling magizines .but now so many ways to look at stuff. that said think all this new media is killing mans libido and soul. best to stay away . i would advise a young man get away from all this . or a least limit it .
16
Celebrity Fights - General / Re: Queen of The Beach
« Last post by tr0tz on Yesterday at 04:36:57 PM »thank you for delivering this amazing tournament! Loved to see one round build upon the other and legends shockingly defeated. Also loved the social media part at the end of each round, adding more spices and more fun.
I'd love to see an 80s or 90s tournament, beach or ring or cage ...?
I'd love to see an 80s or 90s tournament, beach or ring or cage ...?
17
Members Catfight Polls! / Re: Christmas Chaos CherylManteo battles Ivanna (Holly) Garner
« Last post by RowdyOldMan on Yesterday at 04:12:16 PM »I sit at the bar watching as the guests settle in and notice Marlu and Tink next to each other. I watch as they make subtle moves as if testing each other. I see Holly walking to get ready and smile at her. I lean back on my chair ready to watch fireworks!
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Members Catfight Polls! / Re: Christmas Chaos CherylManteo battles Ivanna (Holly) Garner
« Last post by marlu Queen on Yesterday at 04:00:51 PM »I think it'll be a very close fight, but I'd bet on Cheryl. I think she'll win... My thighs brushing against yours and our breasts touching side by side as we settle in to watch the fightI got got Rowdy's invitation to what might be the best fight to end the year. I arrive at the spot a little early to get a good seat. But to my surprise I wasn't the only one here. I see that bitch Marlu seating by herself fixing her hair. I make my way and seat next to her. Making sure I bump into her. Well looks like this is going to be an interesting match up hmmmmm Marlu.If that's what it looks like, Tiffany... while I watch you arrange your girls inside the top... I see Holly appear, looking very provocative, as she heads to her room to prepare for battle.
I look over at Marlu with a sly smirk. Crossing my legs, making sure my thighs touch hers as if I was challenging her. So...Marlu, who are you putting your money on in this battle?
19
Members Catfight Polls! / Re: Christmas Chaos CherylManteo battles Ivanna (Holly) Garner
« Last post by BustyTXEmmy on Yesterday at 03:50:11 PM »Good luck Holly, beat that bitch’s ass
Not a chance, Cheryl will destroy Holly
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Members Catfight Polls! / Re: Christmas Chaos CherylManteo battles Ivanna (Holly) Garner
« Last post by SexyTink on Yesterday at 03:44:17 PM »I got got Rowdy's invitation to what might be the best fight to end the year. I arrive at the spot a little early to get a good seat. But to my surprise I wasn't the only one here. I see that bitch Marlu seating by herself fixing her hair. I make my way and seat next to her. Making sure I bump into her. Well looks like this is going to be an interesting match up hmmmmm Marlu.If that's what it looks like, Tiffany... while I watch you arrange your girls inside the top... I see Holly appear, looking very provocative, as she heads to her room to prepare for battle.
I look over at Marlu with a sly smirk. Crossing my legs, making sure my thighs touch hers as if I was challenging her. So...Marlu, who are you putting your money on in this battle?
