BustyBrawlerBethany clashes with BruisyLucy in a barroom brawl

[RowdyOldMan]

Lucy is out with friends on a Saturday evening. They are at the local hole in the wall bar. Sawdust on the floor, stale air, some tables scattered around leaving a small dance floor. A pool room through a far end door with several tables being used. Bethany arrives with a few friends and as she make her way through the crowd she sees Lucy at a table. She stops and they immediately trade glares and slowly look each other over. The atmosphere suddenly gets very tense and electric as they look at each other.

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[BustyBrawlerBethany]

A gentleman by the name of Pat who is known for setting up and hosting underground and back alley catty brawls, and when he heard about Bethany and Lucy he couldn't wait to get these two in the same place, he sends a message off to both women with the address to the sleazy dirty dive bar and Bethany shows up first.


I read Pat's message twice and I was already pulling the white tank over my head. Dark blue distressed daisy dukes that sit so high the pockets hang out the bottom, white tank that stretches across these 34MMMs until the fabric looks like it's begging to rip, Timberlands laced tight. Hair down, long and blonde, no braid, nothing neat. I want it in her face and I want her to have something to grab when I start tearing hers out. I didn't pack gloves. I didn't pack wraps. I don't fight pretty and I don't fight clean and I sure as hell don't need anything between my knuckles and her teeth.

The bar is exactly the kind of hole I expected from Pat. Neon that's half dead, floor that sticks to the Timberlands, smell of old beer and bleach that didn't work. Back room already cleared, one table shoved against the wall, a couple of guys who know enough to stay out of the way. I walked in first on purpose. I wanted the room. I wanted her to push that door open and see me already here, already looking like I own the place, already staring at the spot she's going to hit the floor.

I leaned on the bar and I let the tank ride up. I know what I look like. Five-seven, hundred and fifty-two, tits that don't belong on a fighter and a body that's been in the gym enough to stay hard under all of it. Fourteen and oh against girls bigger than me, heavier than me, girls who thought size was going to save them. It didn't. I clawed them, I ripped hair out in chunks, I punched them in the mouth until their lips looked like raw meat, I went after everything they had and I didn't stop when they started crying. Lucy's fifteen and oh. Good for her. That number is done tonight.

I keep thinking about her walking in. Brown hair, same ridiculous chest, that little smile like she already won. I'm going to wipe it off her face with the first right hand. I'm going to grab a fistful of that hair and use it to slam her into the bar, into the wall, into the floor. I'm going to get my nails in her face and drag down until I feel skin come with me. I'm going to rip that top off her the same way I'm going to try to rip mine off her if she gets her hands on me. There is nothing on her body I'm not going after. Face, throat, tits, stomach, between her legs. I'll punch it, claw it, grab it, bite it, yank it. No tap. No break. No "that's enough." I want her on this filthy floor with her clothes wrecked and her face wrecked and that record wrecked and I want her to know I did it in a dive bar that smells like piss because that's where girls like us actually finish it.

Pat can stand there and watch. The guys in the corner can watch. I don't care who sees it. I showed up first so she knows I wanted this more than she did. I'm not nervous. I'm not warming up. I'm just standing here in this white tank and these tiny shorts and these boots waiting for the door to open so I can put my hands on her and start ruining her.

Let her walk in. I'm ready to take her apart. Yt

[BruisyLucy]

    I got Pat's message and I was already in the black tank before I finished reading it. Skin tight, stretched across these 34MMMs until every breath makes it look like the seams are going to give. Faded distressed jean shorts with the little slits up the sides so they ride even higher when I walk. Black Timberlands laced all the way up. Hair pulled high on top of my head, long brown ponytail dropping straight down my back so there's one clean thing for her to grab if she's stupid enough to try. I didn't bring gloves. I didn't bring wraps. I don't need them. I fight with what's on me and what's on her and I don't stop until one of us isn't moving.

The bar looks exactly like the kind of place Pat would pick. Dead neon, floor that grabs the soles of the boots, smell of stale beer and something worse underneath. I push the door open and there she is. Blonde. White tank. Tiny dark blue daisy dukes. Timberlands. Already here, already leaning like she owns the room. Good. I wanted her to see me walk in. I wanted her to get a full look at what she's about to lose to.

Fifteen and oh. Every one of them bigger or heavier or both, every one of them thought the size of their tits or the weight on the scale was going to keep me off them. It didn't. I punched them in the mouth until their teeth cut my knuckles. I ripped hair out in clumps and used it to slam their heads into whatever was closest. I clawed faces, I tore tops, I went after everything they had -- tits, stomach, between their legs -- and I kept going after they started making those noises. Bethany's fourteen and oh. Cute number. It dies in this room tonight.
I walk toward her slow. I want her to watch the ponytail swing. I want her to look at this chest in the black tank and know it's the same size as hers and that I'm still going to beat her bloody with it in the way. I'm not shaking her hand. I'm not smiling for Pat. I'm going to get close enough to smell whatever cheap thing she's wearing and then I'm going to start. First thing I want is a handful of that blonde hair so I can yank her head back and put my fist in her mouth. Then I want my nails in her face. Then I want that white tank in pieces on this sticky floor. There is nothing on her I'm not going to attack. Face, throat, those ridiculous tits, her stomach, right between her legs. I'll punch it, claw it, grab it, twist it, bite it. No tap. No break. No "okay that's enough." I want her on this filthy floor with her clothes ruined and her face ruined and that record ruined and I want her to remember it was me who did it in a dive bar that smells like piss.
Pat can watch. Whoever else is in here can watch. I walked in second on purpose so she had time to stand there and think about it. I'm not nervous. I'm not stretching. I'm just looking at her in that white tank and those little shorts and I'm ready to put my hands on her and take her apart.

Your move blondie. I'm right here. Yt

[BustyBrawlerBethany]

    I don't look away from her when she walks in. I let her get the full look -- black tank stretched to splitting, those faded shorts with the slits, the ponytail hanging down her back like she's daring me to grab it. I glare at her the whole way across the room. Pure hatred. No smile. No nod. Just me staring at her like I already decided how this ends and I'm only waiting for the excuse to start.

I snap my fingers at the bartender without taking my eyes off Lucy. Two shots of tequila. Salt. Lemon. I don't ask her if she wants one. I don't care if she wants one. I want her standing right here in front of me with a glass in her hand so I can watch her throat work when she swallows and so I can put my hands on her the second the glasses hit the bar. The bartender sets them down. Salt on the backs of our hands, lemon wedges on the rim. I lick the salt off my own hand slow, still staring at her, then I pick up the shot.

I don't toast. I don't say a word. I just keep that glare locked on her face while I wait to see if she's going to take it or if she's going to be the one who starts it before the liquor even burns. I'm already thinking about what comes after. The second these glasses are empty I'm going to close the space. I'm going to get a fistful of that high ponytail and yank her head sideways so her throat is open. I'm going to smash this empty shot glass out of the way and put my knuckles in her mouth. I'm going to claw that black tank until it gives and those tits are out so I can mark them. I'm going to use the bar, the floor, the wall, whatever's closest. Hair, face, chest, stomach, between her legs -- all of it. No rules. No pause. I want her tasting blood and tequila at the same time.

She's standing there in those black Timberlands looking at me like she's the one who's going to walk out of here still unbeaten. She's not. I showed up first. I ordered the drinks. I'm the one staring at her like I already own what's about to happen to her body. I knock the shot back and I don't even feel it. I just set the glass down hard and I keep glaring, waiting for her to do the same so I can put my hands on her and start tearing her apart in front of Pat and whoever else is watching this dirty little room.

Your turn, brown hair. Drink it or don't. I'm done waiting BITCH. Yt

[Cara69]

In the bar watching, Pat really wants me not these dumb big titted bitches bitches  as I flirt with him.

I know he wastes time with them both and I want to see you both get hurt.

Who do I vote for, which of you do I despise the most.

[BruisyLucy]

  I watch her take that shot with nothing but hate in my eyes. I don't blink. I don't look at the bartender. I don't look at Pat. I look at her throat working and I think about putting my hands around it in about ten seconds. I lick the salt, I pick up my glass, I knock it back -- but I don't swallow. I keep the tequila sitting in my mouth, warm and sharp, and I set the empty-looking glass in my right hand like I'm done with it. She doesn't know. She's too busy glaring and stepping in like she already won.

The second she's close enough I spit.
The whole mouthful hits her right in the eyes. I want it burning. I want her blind and blinking and cursing so she can't see the glass coming. While she's still reacting I swing my right hand as hard as I can and I smash the shot glass into the side of her head. I feel it shatter against her temple. I want glass in her hair. I want a cut opened up over her ear. I want her staggering so I can get that blonde hair in my fist before she even knows which way is up.

I don't wait to see if she's bleeding. I step in on those black Timberlands and I grab a handful of her hair with my left hand and I yank her head down and sideways so her throat and that white tank are right there. I'm already clawing at the tank with the hand that still has glass on it. I want it ripped. I want those tits out so I can rake my nails across them and leave her marked in front of everyone in this filthy bar. I'm going after her face next -- the cut I just opened, her eyes that are full of tequila, her mouth. I'll punch it, I'll claw it, I'll slam her into the bar if I have to. No rules. Anything goes. I spat in her eyes and I broke a glass on her head to start it and I'm not slowing down.

I want her on this sticky floor with glass in her hair and tequila in her eyes and that white tank in pieces. I want that fourteen and oh gone the same way her pretty face is about to be gone. I keep the ponytail bouncing behind me while I drag her and I don't let go. This is how it starts, blonde. Blind, cut, and mine to ruin.

Your move bitch. I'm not stopping. Yt

[BustyBrawlerBethany]

The tequila hits my eyes and everything goes white-hot and blurry and I still feel the glass explode against the side of my head. I feel the cut open. I feel pieces in my hair. I don't cover up. I don't stumble back. I roar and I step straight into her.

I grab that high brown ponytail with both hands like it's a rope and I rip downward as hard as I can, trying to take it out by the roots and snap her head back at the same time. I want her off her feet. I want her throat exposed. While I've got it I drive my forehead into the middle of her face. I want her nose broken. I want blood pouring out of it so she can't breathe through it. Then I slam her sideways into the bar so those huge tits in the black tank smash against the wood and I start ripping. I get my fingers in the neckline and I yank until the fabric screams. I want it off her. I want them out so I can claw them, squeeze them, punch them, leave them red and marked while Pat and everybody else watches.

I don't care that I can't see right. I don't care that my head is ringing and blood is running down past my ear. I keep the ponytail in my left fist and I punch her in the mouth with my right, over and over, short and mean, trying to split her lips and cut my knuckles on her teeth. Then I rake my nails down her face from her forehead to her jaw, digging in, trying to take skin. I go after everything. I knee her in the stomach. I grab a handful of that black tank that's already tearing and I twist and pull until it gives. I reach down and hook my fingers in the waist of those faded shorts and I yank them half off her hips because there is nothing on her I'm not allowed to ruin.
I slam her down toward the sticky floor and I go with her. I'm on top of her with my knee in her gut and her ponytail still wrapped around my hand so she can't turn away. I punch her in the tits. I claw them. I lean down and bite her shoulder as hard as I can while I keep slamming her head against the floor. Glass is in my hair, tequila is burning my eyes, blood is in my mouth, and I am not stopping. I want her black tank in shreds. I want those shorts around her thighs. I want her face cut and swollen and her chest covered in nail marks and I want her to feel all of it while she's still conscious.

You started it with spit and a broken glass. I'm finishing it with my hands in your hair and my nails in your skin and your clothes coming off in this dirty bar. Get up if you can, Lucy. I'm not getting off you until one of us isn't moving. Yt

[BruisyLucy]

   She's on top of me with my ponytail wrapped around her fist and my head bouncing off this filthy floor and I can feel the black tank tearing and I don't tap and I don't cover. I reach up with both hands and I sink my nails into her face and I drag down as hard as I can, trying to take skin off her cheeks and get my thumbs toward her eyes that are still burning from the tequila. I want her blinder than she already is. I want her screaming so she loosens that grip for half a second.

The second I feel it slip I twist hard and I drive my knee up between her legs as vicious as I can. I want her off me. I want her folded. I roll us and now I'm the one on top, still holding a fistful of that long blonde hair, and I slam her head into the sticky floor once, twice, three times. I want the cut on the side of her head opened wider. I want more blood in her blonde hair. I want her seeing nothing but black spots.

I sit on her chest so those giant tits in the white tank are smashed under me and I start ripping. I get both hands in that tank and I tear it straight down the middle. I want them out. I want them hanging there so I can attack them. I grab one in each hand and I squeeze and twist and claw at the same time until I feel her buck under me. Then I punch them. Then I rake my nails across them. Then I lean down and bite the top of one as hard as I can because there is nothing on her I'm not allowed to ruin.

I keep her hair pinned to the floor with my left hand so she can't sit up and I use my right to go after the daisy dukes. I hook my fingers in the waist and I yank and twist until they start coming down her hips. I want them off. I want her on this bar floor in shredded white cotton and half-off shorts with glass still in her hair and tequila still in her eyes and my teeth marks on her chest. I punch her in the mouth again. I claw her throat. I slam her head one more time.

You wanted a war, blonde. You got one. I'm not getting off you. I'm not letting go of this hair. I'm going to keep tearing and clawing and biting and slamming until that white tank is gone and those shorts are gone and your face doesn't look like the one that walked in here first. Get me off if you can. I'm just getting started. Yt

[BustyBrawlerBethany]

She's on my chest with my tank ripped open and my tits out and her nails and teeth in them and my daisy dukes halfway down my hips and I still don't stop. I buck hard and I twist and I get one hand free and I grab that high brown ponytail again and I rip sideways like I'm trying to take her whole scalp with it. I want her off balance. I want her face coming down toward mine so I can bite it.

I clamp my teeth onto her shoulder and I bite down until I taste blood. I don't let go. I shake my head like a dog while I keep yanking the ponytail and I use the pain to roll us again. Now I'm back on top and her black tank is already wrecked and I finish it. I tear what's left of it off her arms and I throw it. Those tits are out and I go straight at them. I punch the left one as hard as I can. I claw the right one from the top all the way down. I grab both of them and I smash them together and I squeeze until my fingers sink in. I want bruises. I want nail tracks. I want her screaming loud enough that Pat hears it in the front of the bar.

I still have the ponytail. I use it to slam her head into the floor, then into the side of the bar, then back into the floor. The cut I already opened on my own head is dripping onto her and I don't care. I want her hair full of my blood and her own. I reach down with my free hand and I hook the faded shorts at the slit and I rip. I want them off her ass. I want them around her knees. I want her on this sticky floor with nothing left but the black Timberlands and whatever skin I haven't marked yet.

I drop my elbow into her face. I rake my nails down her stomach. I shove my knee between her legs and I grind down because there is nothing on her I won't attack. Face, tits, stomach, between her legs, the ponytail I'm going to keep until it's in my hand in chunks. No tap. No breath. No pretty. You wanted uglier and dirtier. You're getting your clothes torn off in a dive bar while I beat you and claw you and bite you and slam your head off everything that doesn't move.

I'm not getting off. I'm not letting go of this hair. I'm going to keep ripping and punching and grinding until those shorts are gone and your face is swollen shut and you can't tell whose blood is whose. Fight me off, Lucy. I'm just getting meaner. Yt

[BruisyLucy]

She's on top of me with my tank gone and my tits bare and her elbow in my face and my shorts ripping at the slit and I still come up swinging. I jam both thumbs toward her eyes and I dig, trying to blind her the rest of the way after the tequila. I want her seeing nothing. I want her screaming so that blonde hair she's using as a leash finally slips.

When it does I surge up and I smash my forehead into the cut on the side of her head. I want that gash wider. I want more of her blood in her own hair. I grab two big handfuls of that long blonde hair and I stand up with it, dragging her off me and slamming her spine into the bar. I bounce her off it twice. I want the wind out of her. I want those exposed tits smashed against the wood so I can work them.

I keep one fist in her hair and I use the other to finish the daisy dukes. I hook them and I rip them down her thighs until they're around her knees and she can barely step. Then I go after what's out. I punch her left tit. I claw her right from nipple to ribs. I grab both and I twist opposite directions as hard as I can. I lean in and I bite the inside of her breast until I feel skin give. I want teeth marks she'll feel tomorrow if she can even stand tomorrow.

I sweep her Timberlands out and I dump her on the floor again. I'm on her in a second, knees pinning her arms, ponytail still in my grip so I can slam her head whenever I want. I spit in her face. I slap her with an open hand then I close the fist and I punch her mouth. I rake my nails down her stomach and I shove my hand between her legs and I claw because she said anything goes and I meant it. There is nothing on her I will not ruin. Face, tits, belly, pussy, hair I'm going to tear out in chunks and leave on this sticky floor.

I grind down on her and I keep slamming that blonde head into the boards. My own shorts are wrecked and half-off and I don't care. My tank is gone and I don't care. I want her white tank in rags, her daisy dukes around her ankles, her face swollen and bloody and her chest covered in my nail marks and my bite marks while Pat watches two unbeaten girls try to end each other in a bar that smells like piss and tequila.

This is the dirtiest one either of us has ever had. I'm making sure of it. Get me off you, Bethany. I'm not done marking you. Yt

[RowdyOldMan]

I sit on a stool watching the brawl and I caress Cara's stocking covered leg and kiss her. She is watching the brawl and I can hear her hiss "I can make you forget them both." I feel her hand run over my stiffening cock in my pants as we hear glass break and see blood already being spilled.

[BustyBrawlerBethany]

    She's kneeling on my arms with my daisy dukes around my knees and her hand between my legs and my head bouncing off the floor and I still don't quit. I twist hard enough to get one arm free and I grab the first thing I can reach -- a full beer bottle off the bar. I smash it across her shoulder and the side of her head. I want it to shatter on her. I want glass in her hair and a new cut opened up so she's bleeding down that bare chest. I want her weight off me from the shock of it.

The second she flinches I buck and I roll and I drive her into the stool. I pick the stool up by the leg and I swing it into her ribs as hard as I can. I want her folded. I want the air gone. Then I drop it and I go right back to that high ponytail. I wrap it around my fist twice and I run her face first into the bar. Once. Twice. I want her teeth through her lip. I want the wood stained with her.

Both of us are half-naked now and I use it. I grab her bare tits and I slam them into the edge of the bar. I claw them. I punch them. I bite the side of one until I taste her. I hook what's left of those faded shorts and I rip them the rest of the way down her legs so she's in nothing but the black Timberlands and blood and nail marks. Then I kick what's left of my own daisy dukes off my boots because I don't need them and I want my legs free to knee her in the gut and between the legs every time she tries to get up.

I snatch another bottle and I break it on the bar rail so it explodes, then I grab her by the hair and I shove her face toward the mess so she feels the glass under her cheek. I don't cut her with a point. I just want her knowing this whole filthy room is a weapon. Then I throw what's left and I go back to my hands. Hair. Face. Tits. Stomach. Between her legs. I punch, I claw, I grind my knee in, I slam her head off the floor and the bar and the stool. I am not giving up fourteen and oh. I am not letting her walk out of here still fifteen and oh. I'll use bottles across the head, the stool, the bar, her ponytail, my teeth, my nails, the floor -- whatever I can swing or grab or smash.

You wanted the dirtiest one we've ever had. You're getting glass shattered on your skull and a stool in your ribs and your clothes in a pile and my knee between your legs while I beat your face in. Get up, Lucy. I'm not done using this whole bar on you. Yt

[BruisyLucy]

   She's on me with my shorts gone and my tank gone and my face shoved toward the broken glass on the bar and her knee between my legs and my ponytail wrapped around her fist and I still don't quit. I twist my head away from the glass and I drive my elbow back into the cut on the side of her head. I want that gash screaming. I want her eyes watering so the tequila and the blood and the pain all hit her at once and her grip on my ponytail finally slips.

The second it loosens I surge up and I smash my forehead into her nose. I want it flatter. I want more of her blood in her face. I grab two big handfuls of that long blonde hair and I stand with it, dragging her off me and running her spine into the bar, then sideways into the pool table I spotted against the wall. I bounce her off the rail. I want her tits smashed into the wood. I want her mouth on the felt.

I keep one fist in her blonde hair and I snatch the pool cue. I snap it over the table edge and I crack the heavy half across the side of her head, right over the cut that's already there. I want her knees gone. I want her seeing spots. I throw the other half and I go back to her body. Both of us are in nothing but Timberlands and I use it. I punch her left tit. I claw her right from the top down. I grab both and slam them into the rail. I bite her shoulder and I shake. I shove my hand between her legs and I claw and I grind because there are no rules and I am not giving up fifteen and oh.

I dump her on the floor and I mount her, knees pinning her arms, that blonde hair still in my grip so I can slam her head off the boards whenever I want. I spit in the cut on her temple. I slap her then I close the fist and I punch her mouth. I rake my nails down her stomach. I keep her hair pinned and I keep beating what's already out -- face, tits, belly, between her legs -- while glass crunches under us and the bar smells like tequila and blood.

You used the bottles and the stool and the whole filthy room. So am I. Cue across the head. Table rail. Hair. Nails. Teeth. The floor. I'm not ending this in one shot and I'm not letting you keep fourteen and oh. Get me off you, Bethany. This one is going the distance and I'm going to make you feel every minute of it. Yt

[BustyBrawlerBethany]

She's on me with my blonde hair in her fist and her knees on my arms and that snapped cue still ringing in my head and I don't stay there. I buck hard, twist, and fire a right hand straight into her ribs as soon as my arm comes free. I want the air out of her. I want her folded so that ponytail is the only thing holding her up. I follow it with a left hook into the same spot, then I sit up into her and I start punching.

This isn't just clawing now. I'm going to beat her. I get my feet under me and I stand her up with two handfuls of that brown ponytail and I drive a right straight into her mouth. I feel her lips split on my knuckles. I don't stop. I hook her in the temple, then I drop a straight into her left tit as hard as I can, then the right one, then back up to her face. Body. Face. Body. Face. I want her feeling every one of these 34MMMs smash into my fists the same way mine are taking hers.

I back her into the bar and I plant my boots and I throw. Right hand to the jaw. Left to the ribs. Right to the tit. Left to the mouth. I'm not fancy. I'm just heavy and mean and I know how to put a fist where it hurts. I keep her ponytail in my left so she can't cover and I keep the right coming. I want her nose flattened. I want both eyes swelling. I want those bare tits bouncing and bruising every time I sink a punch into them. I want her on her heels in those black Timberlands trying to cover a face and a chest that are both too big to hide.

When she swings I take one on the cheek and I answer with two. I hook her in the body so hard she folds, then I uppercut her as she comes down and I feel her teeth click. I shove her off the bar and I walk her down, still punching, still holding that ponytail like a leash. Face. Tits. Stomach. Face again. No break. No clinch unless I'm using it to hit her harder. Two unbeaten girls in a dive bar with nothing left but boots and blood and I'm going to out-slug her until that fifteen and oh is gone.

Get your hands up, Lucy. I'm done playing on the floor. I'm going to punch you until you can't punch back. Yt

[BruisyLucy]

She's got my ponytail in her left and she's walking me down with that right hand and I taste blood and I don't cover forever. I slip the next straight and I fire my own right into her mouth. I want her teeth in her lip. I want that blonde head snapping back. I hook her in the body right under those huge tits, then I come back up and I punch her left tit as hard as I can, then the right, then her jaw. Body. Chest. Face. Same as her. I'm not backing up. I'm trading.

I rip my ponytail out of her fist by driving forward and I plant my black Timberlands and I start throwing. Right hand to her temple. Left to her ribs. Right to that exposed tit. Left to her mouth. I can feel my knuckles splitting on her face and I don't care. She's 34MMM and so am I and every punch I land on her chest makes them bounce and bruise and I want them marked as bad as her face. I take one of hers on the cheek and I spit blood and I answer with two more into her body so she folds, then I uppercut her as she comes in.

I back her into the pool table and I keep her there. I hold a handful of that long blonde hair just long enough to set my feet and then I let it go so I can punch with both hands. Straight. Hook. Straight. I aim for her nose, her mouth, the side of her head where the glass already cut her, then I drop down and I bury a right hand in her tit and a left in her stomach. I want her gasping. I want her hands coming down so I can smash her face again.

She's hitting me just as hard. I feel my own tits taking it. I feel my lip split. I feel my ribs scream. I don't stop. Two unbeaten brawlers in a filthy bar with no clothes left and no rules and I am not giving her the slugfest. I walk her down the same way she walked me. Face. Body. Tits. Face. I want her on her heels. I want that fourteen and oh beaten out of her one punch at a time.

Keep throwing, Bethany. I'm right here and I'm hitting you back just as dirty and just as hard. Yt

[BruisyLucy]