[CrimsonDesire]

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Santa decided to bring all you naughty boys and girls a very special gift this year. Instead of coal, you all are getting a fight log created within the devious minds of myself and Rebecca Payne. This was my third fight with Becca, and it was hot in very vicious and savage ways. I was told when I met Becca that she was one of the best, and she has proved that to be the case every time we've gone to war. We hope you all enjoy!

Becca:



Kim



Kimberly: Sometimes the best things in life come to you because you work hard for them, you scratch and claw slowly but surely, day by day, for what you what in life, and when you get it, you feel good about yourself. You feel like you've accomplished something. That's how I felt about my new job. First college. Then a Master's degree. Years of interning. Years of working a low level, entry-level job at out of the way branches, and now I had finally been asked to come work downtown. New York City. The place where all the action was. I was excited. I was thrilled. I was over the moon. But there was one problem... I had to find a place to live, and that was always a bit tricky.

There was two things I needed in a place to live. The first was a roommate. I hate being alone. I hate having something to celebrate or feeling like I want to do something and looking around an empty place with no one there but me to talk to. The second was someone who understood my... particular... form of release. Sometimes I needed the place to myself, because I needed to fight. My job was stressful. I always had to be focused. I always had to be under control. I always had to be on point. And sometimes I just needed to let go. The best way for some to get that feeling was a spa or maybe a sport like tennis or golf. I needed more. I needed to fight someone. I needed it. I loved it. I craved it. And I needed a roommate who would understand.

On the other hand, sometimes the best things in life come to you because of sheer dumb luck. That's the only way I can explain meeting Rebecca. I had just finished kicking Lisa's ass at one of our "quarterly" meetings, and as we were getting dressed again and toweling off the sweat and a little blood too I was telling her the good news about my new job. She was bummed I was moving away and we wouldn't get to fight as much (I think she loved getting her ass kicked), so I casually dropped that I wouldn't be moving just yet because I had to find a place to live and ideally a roommate who would understand. Her eyes lit up. "OMG... BECCA!" She almost shouted. "You must know Becca." I was sure I had heard the name, but no, we had never met. "She lives in the city, and she needs a roommate." Phone numbers were exchanged, and within a few days I was driving downtown to meet you, and there was just this instant spark.

We connected almost immediately, and a meet and greet at your place for me to see it and for you to meet me turned into a full-on night out on the city, including a walk through the park, a light dinner, and dancing, and by the end of it the question of whether or not I'd be moving in didn't even feel like a question anymore. The only question was whether we were going to fight that night, and even that, by the night went on, felt like a given too. We almost crashed through your... no... OUR door, as we grabbed each other's hair. We slapped faces. Clawed breasts and bodies. Even traded a few punches. We taunted each other as "roomie", joked about fighting over who would cook breakfast or slapped each other because "your room is a mess," and eventually I pinned you down with one hand in your abs and the other in your breasts, clawing and squeezing, and you submitted. MTC

That was the first time we fought. It wasn't the last. I don't even remember the record anymore because it doesn't really matter. Every fight is about THAT fight. It's about THAT experience, and we were always looking for new experiences. We'd even had more than a few "date nights" (that's what people would call them who don't know you and assumed that we were together) to this underground fight club. It's a pretty simple setup. It's invite only, but once you're invited, you're in, and once you're in, you can spectate or fight or both. Men and women are allowed to fight, although only rarely are there ever mixed matches.

The venue is as simple as the concept. It's an old warehouse with a cage set in the middle and a large set of bleachers on each side. Each fighter is paid well. $1000 per fighter for fights to submission, with double for the winner. $1500 per fighter for fights to KO, with double to the winner. But for most of the people here, it wasn't about the money. One look at most of the men and women who stepped in the cage would tell you that. For the members of this club, it was about the fight. It was about seeing if you could break someone before that someone broke you.

It was last month while we were watching two men, bare-chested and barefoot in just shorts, that I turned to you and whispered into your ear (although I practically had to shout for you to hear me above the crowd), "I want you!"

You smiled, turned your head back to mine and said, "You know I don't play for that team!"

I smiled back, "That's not what I meant!", and I pointed to the cage. "Next month. Me and you," I said as the bigger white male in the black shorts shoved his Hispanic opponent against the cage and began to pummel his face. As the Hispanic fighter slumped to the floor unconscious and bloody, you looked at me very seriously...

"To KO?"

I nodded. "To KO." And before the night was over, we had signed the waivers and signed up for next month. The fight was booked.

Rebecca: When Sarah moved out, I was pretty dejected. I was dejected for multiple reasons: She was a great roommate, never late with any bills, always doing her share and then some, and a great cook. She was also tolerant of my... unusual... hobby. When I needed the place to myself, she always magically found something important to do that would keep her from coming home that night. And on more than one occasion I woke after a particularly rough fight to find the place back in order, nothing out of place, and Sarah happily humming to herself as she dusted.

And she was a friend; while she didn't share my hobby, we shared a lot of other things in common, and we were close. But when her boyfriend asked her to move in with him, I knew she would say yes. The two of them were a perfect couple. It is only a matter of time before they get married, I am certain, and this next step is important for them. But I couldn't help feeling it as a loss.

Oh, there was one other important reason I was depressed at her moving out: I knew I couldn't afford this place in the city on my own. So, it was find a new roommate, or find a new place. I tried finding a new roommate, but it was a parade of people who were never going to make the cut. Just when I reluctantly started looking for new places to move to, Lisa dropped a name. The name of one of her opponents.

At first, I was extremely reluctant: I know what kind of people engage in our hobby: I'm one of them! And while that would have very specific upsides, living day in and day out with a fellow fighter sounded like a disaster in the making. But I also did not want to lose my place, so I met with this Kimberly. And almost instantly, my reservations washed away. We clicked, even down to our first fight, crashing through what was now our place. It was the perfect answer to the unsolvable problem, and it came when I least expected it.

Life was pretty great; I stayed in touch with Sarah but Kimberly's presence evaporated that well of dejection I'd been feeling since she moved out. The underground club we started frequenting was just one more way we bonded, and when she challenged me with that smarmy, self-confident grin of hers that I love so much, I knew I was in 100%. She even signed on for the KO, which was a serious bump in money, and a serious itch I had been itching to scratch.

The time between when the match was booked and the fight itself seemed to fly by, and despite the more intense nature of our coming fight, there was no tension in the apartment. We were clearly both looking forward to it, and while there were jokes about how we were going to mess each other up on occasion, they were just that: light-hearted jokes, teasing jabs. Everything just felt so natural. But none of that tranquility and friendliness fooled either of us into thinking the fight itself would be anything other than an intense war. The morning of the fight, we smiled and nodded at each other as we left for work, but we also knew that the next time we saw one another it would likely be in the cage and the smiling would have to wait until this latest chapter in our new friendship was complete.


Kimberly: Every time I know I'm going to fight that night, I'm nervous. My heart rate is up. I tap my desk my nails. I tap the floor with my foot. And my anxiety is even higher when I know I'm going to fight Becca. It's because I don't play fight. Sure, there is a place for meeting another girl, pulling each other's hair so you get in real close, and then starting to kiss and finger and you both turn your fight into sex and you both go home winners. But that's not what I prefer. That's not my ideal. I want to fight. I want to try and hurt you while you try to hurt me and let's see what happens. It's not personal, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. There's real pain waiting for me when it's fight night, no matter who I'm fighting, and tonight I'm fighting Becca, who is always tough.

And we're not just fighting in our apartment as we chase each other around from bedroom to living room to the kitchen, but in a cage, surrounded by a couple hundred screaming fans. And unlike at home, which always ends when one of us submits and never goes a moment longer, this is to a finish we've never experienced before. So, I'm nervous. Tapping my desk. Tapping my foot. Checking my phone... no messages. It's weird to go an hour without hearing from Becca, but we both know tonight will be different. Work can't end soon enough, and at 5 pm I'm out the door, catching a cab to the warehouse, and heading back to the made upstaging area and into the changing area I've been assigned to.

"Of course," I mutter to myself as I see the tiny red string bikini hanging on the wall, and I start to strip out of my work clothes, like I'm stripping off the me who has to put on a smile for the whole world and do as she's told and take whatever shit the people above her want to give her, and into the bikini. So free. So loose. It holds almost nothing in, and that's fine because tonight is about letting go. The noise of the crowd gets louder and louder, and I poke my head out of the changing room to grab one of the assistants and ask, "Is Becca here?" "Yeah, she got here about 30 minutes ago." "Good..." I say with my voice trailing off at the end, wondering if it really is good. You've been the best thing to happen to me for a while, and who knows how this could turn out. A half dozen fights are enough to know we're equal fighters, and if this goes bad, for one or both of us... I don't know.

But then there's the tap at the door, and it all just starts happening. Within moments our names are called, it's announced this is the first fight at the club for either of us and that it's a fight to KO, and the crowd erupts. I step into the cage, which sits at ground level, is 15'x15' with steel bars that are maybe a foot apart with steel flooring, and you step in across from me. The crowd is roaring. My heart is pounding. And my eyes are locked on yours. There's two large clangs as the doors shut and then two clicks. The doors are locked. They won't be opened again until one of us is unconscious. There's no rules, but we agreed to catfight.

"Whenever you ladies are ready" calls the owner of the club from outside the ring, and in that moment, all the worries, all the doubt, all the fear I felt in the changing room, all disappear. It's a fight. It's me and you, or better yet, me OR you. It's as simple as that. I put my hands up and turn my wrists and give you the double middle finger across the cage, which is more for the crowd's sake than yours, but it's still fun. "Come on bitch... come and get me... I'm going to fuck you up!"


Rebecca: While the month between booking the fight and today seemed to fly by, the hours at work today seemed to crawl. Minutes felt like hours; hours felt like days. I am normally excited, looking forward to a fight, and I was this one as well, but there was something different; a greater intensity, a greater anticipation, even anxiety at what would come from today. The lack of messages from Kim didn't help matters, but logically I knew that a certain separation today made sense, so I decided not to text her first. Finally, when 5 o'clock rolled around, I was out of there in a heartbeat, grabbing the gym bag I'd tucked under the desk and calling up Uber on my way to the elevator.

The uber driver gave me a funny look at the address. "That's all warehouses... you going to a rave or something?" he asked, clearly angling for an invite. "Not really." "What are you going to do tonight?" "Beat the hell out of a bitch." "Fine, don't tell me." The rest of the ride was in silence, which was fine with me... there were enough voices in my head for the two of us. Did I want to take things here? This could change everything. But it was what she wanted: she used those words. She WANTED this. She WANTED me in there. And I knew I WANTED the same thing.

I asked when I was escorted to the room for me to change if Kimberly was here yet. "Nope." My thoughts swirled even more intently... well, she had a further trip, that was it. That was it, right? I paced in the cramped, run down room that was re-purposed into a changing room. Finally, I knew I had to clear my head and focus on the here and now. Stripping down, I noticed the blue string bikini hanging on a hook at the back of the door. The guys get fight gear... we get bikinis. Of course. But fuck it... that revealing bikini is the least of my concerns. I slip into it, and pull my hair into a ponytail, sliding a band around it. There is a knock: "You ready?" I answer by opening the door. "Is she here?" "Yeah, she's here." I don't know if I feel relieved or disappointed; probably parts of both. I'm led from the backstage area to the cage, but before we reach the crowd there is a quick *SNIP* as someone came up behind, clipping my ponytail band. "Not regulation," the guy says with a laugh. I roll my eyes, and I'm led to the 15' x 15' cage.

While the day was dragging up until now, suddenly everything is speeding by. I find myself across from you, your curvaceous body clad in red, as the door CLANGS shut and CLICKS closed. Our eyes meet, and as the owner invites us to begin at our convenience, you flip me off and shout your taunt. "Fuck me up, bitch? You couldn't fuck up Lisa, and we both know what a jobber that bitch is." I snap back, and drag my thumbnail across my neck, like slitting a throat. The crowd is eating this up, and we both know it is just for them, but we also know what comes next is for us. I circle to my right, eyes narrowed, chest heaving. The overhead lights beat down on us as the crowd anxiously awaits the violence they so eagerly came to see.

Kimberly: There you are. Standing across from me. As gorgeous as you are skilled. A violent as you are beautiful. In the ways that matter for a fight so much my equal. Tall. Skinny. Toned. Strong. Abs that won't quit. Firm breasts. I don't know if anyone was made to fight someone else, but you could make an argument that we were made to fight each other. Some of the people in the crowd know we're friends and roommates, but most don't. But for the few who do, this is extra special.

Lisa is here. Sarah and her fiance are here, as well as a few of the girls we've hosted at our place from time to time, and they all start to choose their side. I taunt you. You taunt me right back, taking your thumbnail and imitating dragging it across your throat... "ohhhh you're going to wish you were dead, cxnt!" I holler back as I circle to my right, and we both hear Lisa shouting out from her front-row seat, "Fuck you, Becca! I hope she breaks you in half." Then it's Sarah's turn, "Fuck her up, baby! Knock her teeth out!" We can't see it, with our eyes focused on each other, but Sarah's fiance looks at his soon to be wife like he's never seen this woman before and she just blushes.

My bare feet slide and step across the metal flooring as we move in the middle of the cage which was purposely built to be as unforgiving as possible. More shouts of lust for violence pour out from the crowd as we get closer and closer and move into each other's striking distance. We both know what this will turn into. Fist and knees and kicks and trying to knock each other out or force each other down so we can cut off the other's air, but we agreed to catfight, so that's how we start... "claws first, bitch" I say for only you to hear as my hands come up and my claws turn towards yours. I wait for your hands to come up and then I lunge, taking a step towards you and grabbing for your shoulders. I try to grab the muscle and squeeze, wanting not just to wrap my fingers around it but to jab my thumbnails under the muscle from the front while my other nails dig in from the back. I press with my feet and drive, hands extended, wanting to get control and maybe step you back a few steps to those dangerous bars.

Rebecca: "Your funeral, slut" I hiss back in answer to your clawing challenge. Your hands shoot up and grab my shoulders, nails not just sinking into the skin but also your thumbs digging into muscle, working painfully between sinew. My claws shot up at nearly the same moment, pressing into your smooth skin. I wince as your thumbnails dig in painfully, and I mimic the move a moment later, not thrilled that you thought of that before me, but not wanting to let you be deprived of knowing how unpleasant it feels. The crowd roars as we clash, shouts of encouragement for each of us rising from the crowd, mixed with the general shouts of blood-lust.

My body tenses, muscles straining as we struggle, standing out beneath my skin as my most natural rival and I clash once again, but in a situation altogether new to us. Your initiative gave you the advantage, and you force me backwards despite my effort to resist you. I give way, step by step, my temper rising as you force me to do something I don't want to do, and in front of all the onlookers. My nails dig into your well-inked skin. As we near the bars, I snarl and twist hard to my right, trying to reverse us to shove your back to the heavy metal bars, or at least side by side, not wanting to be trapped. My hands release your shoulders and shoot into your hair, claws raking as I sink into your gorgeous red tresses near the scalp, scratching your scalp even as I pull on your hair. "BITCH!" I snarl as we struggle in closely.

Kimberly: When you've fought each other as much as we have, you're probably not going to surprise each other. I'm not going to jump right for your face, no matter where we're fighting, so that really leaves from below your neck to just above your breasts for an opening attack, unless I want to slap your face and go for your hair. So, it's no surprise that you're ready when my hands come up to your shoulders, but instead of stopping me or trying to block me, you just go with it and get me in the same claw hold. I fucking hate it, and I fucking love it. No defense. Just pain, exchanged back and forth until the bitter end. Maybe that's why we get along so well. I screech out as your nails sink in and that only makes my nails curl in tighter. "Awwwwwwww SHIT!" I shout as I drive with my feet and look into your eyes, the same eyes that I might be looking into across a dinner table as some trendy restaurant if this was any other evening, and one step, two steps, three steps back you go and then... "UGHHHHHHHHHH"

You turn at just the right time, because that's the kind of skilled bitch you are, and while you don't get us all the way around you send us both crashing into the steel bars of the cage. My right shoulder connects and then your left and we both grunt out loudly. My instinct is to make some fucking comment about how that's a lot more painful than slamming into the wall at home, but before I can you've got your hands shooting up to my hair and sinking in. Your nails claw into my scalp as you pull back on my hair, and I lean to left, making the pull worse, but making sure you can't bash my head into the bar.

My hands drop from your shoulders down to your underarms which as exposed as your hands come up for my hair, and I stab in with my thumbnails as my other fingers reach around the sides and squeeze, pulling my thumbs in even more sharply and digging them into the sensitive muscles and nerves as I keep shuffling my feet, trying to turn us away from the bars before you realize what you could do to my head or face...."FUCK... YOU... BECCA!" "Bash her head in! Fuck her up! Claw her apart!" the crowd screams and shouts, only adding fuel to the fire already burning in our hearts.

Rebecca: We hit the bars with a solid thud and we both grunt in pain as we collide with the unyielding metal. My fingers dig into your hair and yanking. You twist yourself to your left as you focus on protecting your head from the bars. You don't only do that, however, as your fingers slip off my shoulders and dig into the sensitive underside of my arms and armpit. "CLAW THAT BITCH UP!" "BASH HER HEAD IN!" "TEAR HER APART!" the crowd screams, and I am pretty sure I make out Lisa's voice in that last one. Pain shoots through my body as your vicious nails claw into muscle and nerve clusters. I shriek in pain as you maul my body, pain shooting out through my body from your cruel clawing. We shuffle several steps to the side, away from the bars. "FUCK! GODDAMN YOU!" I scream as the sharp pain distracts me.

The pain isn't only excruciating, it is intense enough to cause my body to arch in pain. I release your hair and swing my arms down, trying to knock your arms aside in an effort to break your painful hold. I hiss, pure anger fueling it as I meet your eyes again and then swing my left hand up in a sharp slap at your face, curling my nails in slightly as I try to mar your perfectly smooth skin, even as I hope the blow is sharp enough to send you staggering a few steps, my arms still tingling from the painful nerve clawing. "I am going to rip you apart, Kim." I snarl. I didn't want to go on defense, but the painful hold didn't leave me much choice. With a scream, I go back on offense, hurling myself at you, arms wrapping around your body, nails clawing at your smooth back as our bodies collide once more. "BITCH!!!!"

Kimberly: I sink my claws in and you scream, and it's not a surprise. I know this hurts. I know it hurts you a lot. We've had lots of conversations when things settled down about what hurt the most, what didn't hurt at all, and what felt kind of normal. We'd sometimes use that info against each other as fought, sometimes we wouldn't, but tonight I'm sure we're both going to pull out all the stops. So, I go for your underarms and I claw, you scream, and you release my hair and knock my arms to the side. I grunt as my arms swing down and before I can get my hands back up your left hand comes up and slaps me hard across the face, which gets a huge roar from the crowd, and I stagger to the side holding my right cheek, which isn't just red from the slap but has light red scratches across it from your nails. I hold my face and glare at you as we are separated by a few steps... "Fuck you Becca!" I shout back at you. "You're going to fucking BEG to be unconscious, you cxnt!"

I get my hands up and go to lunge at you, but before I can really grab anything you hurl yourself at me and wrap your arms around my body. We're both so thin, so bony and muscular I can feel your chest, your ribs, and your abs all pressing against me as you start to squeeze, and just like with the claw to your underarms, you know how fucking much I hate to be bear hugged. "AWWWWW SHIT!!!" I scream out as you squeeze and claw into my back and lift ever so slightly to really pour on the pain. My hands are up thankfully, or I'd only be only be fighting with my feet. I reach out for the sides of your face and grab for your ears. I slide my hands through your hair, like I was brushing it back behind your ears, but there's nothing romantic or sexual about this. I grab your ears and wrap my fingers around them and dig in, curling them into the soft tissue and squeezing hard as you squeeze my while my right foot pushes down and I curl my toes and jab my toes nails down into your left shin.... "ughhhh fuckk... FUCKK YOU BITCH!"

Rebecca: We collide with a slap of flesh on flesh. Chests slamming together, abs pressing in, our bodies molding into one another as I squeeze on you, my nails digging into your smooth skin and lifting up just ever so slightly: if you are going to bring my hates out so soon, I will do the same. My arms flex and strain as I squeeze you in the hold. I'm rewarded with a scream of pain and anger from you, but also a sudden sharp pain as your nails sink into my ears, your hands cupping them and then clawing and twisting on them. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGH!!!! FUCK!!!!!" I scream as you twist and scratch my ears. The crowd erupts again as the two wildcats tear into each other wildly near the center of the cage without much concern for their own safety. I vent the pain in my ears with my screams, but I don't release you, instead I squeeze tighter and lift up slightly...

I lunge forward as I show off my strength by supporting most of your weight. In my mind, I picture myself rushing forward, charging forward towards the heavy metal bars and crashing your body into them in my bear hug, my arms bruising in the process a bit perhaps but I'm more than willing to take that to slam you into them... pin you there and claw you as I trap you against them. But that is in my mind... the reality doesn't quite work out that way. I start to move forward, but your feet, toenails raking at my shins, tangle up my shins and I trip.

We go crashing to the floor, not in the impressive, powerful slam I envisioned, but in much more of an awkward tangle. Still, you take more of the brunt as you are beneath me, my body still plastered to yours as we go falling. My hands release your body after the impact, shooting up for your hair as I try to spread my legs, hoping to recover enough to straddle your hips as the fight goes to the solid, hard cage floor for the moment.

Kimberly: You squeeze and I claw and the crowd, including some very close friends of ours, scream out as we inflict pain on each other's bodies. My own screams of pain are joined with yours in a wicked chorus as I try to force to you release the hold around my back, but you don't. "STUBBORN cxnt!" I scream as you double down, squeezing even tighter and I start to wonder if you're going to crack one of my rubs as the pressure continues to build. You lift me more and I can see it in your eyes. That intense, sadistic desire to hurt me more than I'm hurting you. You shake me slightly and I push with my toenails just as you start to drive, and it works.
Down we go, toppling hard to the cold metal floor of the cage.

"UHNNNNNnnnnnn" I gasp out as we fall. My ass hits first and it sends a jolt of pain up my spine and then my back drops. I tuck my head in and I'm thankful for your arms behind me to at least take some of the fall. But your arms move quickly, pulling out from under me as I groan and try to recover and you grab for my hair. I feel your legs start to move and as much as the vicious hold you have on the side of my head hurts like hell, it's your legs that are the more pressing matter. I can't get trapped down here. We've both seen it too many times. One girl gets on the other, straddles her, and bashes the back of her head into the floor until it's lights out. My right leg shoots out and curls around your left and we end up sliding with our thongs pressed against each other's thighs.

"UGghhhhh FUCK... you think you're.... going to fucking mount me... cxnt!" I shout as I reach down for your ass with my left hand and I grab it and squeeze, pulling my nails into your firm, tight flesh, and as I pull and push my nails into your skin it pulls out hips even more together. Cat calls and whistles pour out from the crowd, but that's the farthest thing from our minds as we're closer to trying to kill each other than we are wanting to fuck each other right now.

My left hand squeezes. My right closes into a fist and once... twice... three times I slam my fist into your exposed ribs, punching you as hard as I can from my back like this with your hands in my fucking hair. With the third punch I buck, thrusting my hips up and turning with the momentum of my closed fist pushes on your side and I try to roll us over, knowing my hand might get stuck underneath us, but if it does it will be with my nails jammed inside you and maybe even breaking your skin.... "YOU ... FUCKING... WHORE!!!" I scream with each punch.

Rebecca: "WHY NOT? EVERYONE ELSE HAS!" I snarl back as I try to force my leg wider, trying to push past you, our legs striving against one another. Your nails sink into my ass and squeeze, clawing as our hips buck and writhe against one another. I decide the straddle is a distraction, though I keep striving because the effort may distract you as well, and I start to pull up on your hair, raising your head up slightly as we lean into one another. It isn't far, but any little bit can hurt at this point.

Before I can lean in to smack the back of your head into the floor, your small but strong fist slams into my ribs, punching hard at my toned sides. I grunt heavily from each blow... UGH! UGH!! UGGGH!!! Suddenly your hips thrust against me, but not just grinding as they were before but twisting as you roll us over. Suddenly on my back, I can feel your arm trapped beneath me, your nails clawing at my skin, tearing red lines in my back...

My hands still in your hair, I pull down on it, keeping you close to me, despite the fact you are leaning over me now. I let out a feral snarl as I keep us pulled I close to one another, and I bare my teeth, sinking them into your shoulder. My lean form bucks and twists against you as we battle wildly in the center of the cage, two intense, aggressive, wild women holding nothing back. My smaller but firm breasts grind up into you as we battle, my pearly white teeth sinking into a delicate floral pattern of a tattoo on your neck. My words are cut off, merely grunts and growls as your smooth skin fills my mouth as I am clamped down on it. NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGH!

Kimberly: Punch after punch after punch, a hard thrust with my hips and it's no longer my head that is in danger. It's yours. But I've got one hand trapped underneath you, clawing into your ass and trying hard to break your skin as my hand squeezes and I dig in deep. But you still have my hair, and you pull, pulling me down into you so our faces are rubbing for a moment. It's intense. As intense as it can get physically between two women locked body to body and trying to injure and hurt each other.

Our breasts rub together. Our hips press. Your face rubs across mine and you sink your teeth down into my shoulder. "AWWWWWWWWW GAWDD!!!" I scream out. My natural instinct is to rip my head back in pain but as you hold my hair that only makes it worse, and all the crowd now sees me screaming as you sink your teeth into me. It only takes me a second to feel it. You break my skin with your teeth and right now I know you can taste my coppery fluid on your lips and tongue as you grunt and grown and continue to bite into my flesh.

But the sudden burst of pain makes me rip my left hand out from under your ass and both hands shoot up for your dark locks. I grab the side of your head and jam my nails into your scalp as I squeeze and pull your hair at the roots. "FUCKK... YOUUUUUUUU" I snarl through pain clenched teeth as my arms flex and I pull up, pulling you into me, keeping your teeth right on my shoulder and your hands in my hair as my back start to bend and stretch.

I'm groaning quite loudly in pain and frustration as I pull up on your head, trying to pull your upper body off the steel floor as much as I am able so that I can send it crashing back down. At least your back should come down hard and maybe stun you enough for me to pull my head back, or even better your head might come crashing down and I could start to have my way with you. Either way, I can only bend so far, and the pain is overwhelming, to say the least, so I release, my pulling arms turning into a shove, and I try to drive you down into the floor with a loud, guttural groan... "UGHHHHHHHHHH"

Rebecca: Locked together in a violent, catty tangle of claws, teeth, and limbs, our bikini-clad bodies pressed tightly and a mass of red hair cascading down over us as you lay atop me, we struggle with a furious savagery, each seemingly focused on hurting the other and nothing else. I can feel the trademark coppery taste in my mouth that screams blood. Your blood, in this case. Not the first time I've tasted it, and likely not the last. But as we battle before a screaming crowd of 100 fight fans, it takes on a new dimension for me.

"Tear her throat out!" someone shouts.... Which isn't going to happen, not even in my state of mind, but biting into your toned shoulder is entirely another matter. I feel a dampness on my ass as your clawing nails must have broken the skin too, my skimpy bottoms twisted out of shape to reveal ass cheek as your nails dig in. I feel you pulling back, lifting up, and I stay clamped to you, hands in hair, teeth in skin. You aren't getting away from me that easily. But you aren't really trying to get away, you only wanted to create some space between me and the solid metal cage floor, wanting a gap to create space to make the impact heavier when you drove back downward, smashing me against the floor. You do so and I let out a shuddering gasp, my teeth involuntarily releasing you as I open my mouth in a pained grunt...

My shoulder blades take the brunt of the blow, and I can feel the solid impact on my upper body. I wince from it. The back of my head takes a glancing blow in the process, but it is enough to distract and daze me momentarily. I can feel your body moving to take advantage of the situation, but, at least for a second, I'm too distracted by the ache in my head, which for all the world seems like a tiny person with a hammer on the inside of my skull pounding away. The coppery taste still is in my mouth from your blood, and a few drops are smeared on my lips and cheek as I shake my head, trying to throw off the haze before my situation gets too much worse...

Kimberly: I lift and lift. God. It's only a few inches, but it feels like feet by how much effort it takes. We both can feel it. We both know what's at stake in these moments of body vs body, power vs power, and it takes a lot out of me to send your upper body crashing back to the unforgiving steel floor beneath us. Your shoulders hit, and then your head which you tried to keep tucked in my shoulder but the momentum was just too much. Your teeth pull from my neck to my great relief as your head glances off the floor. It certainly wasn't as hard of a blow as it could have been, but it's still not something you're going to brush off right away.

"GET HER!!!" I hear shouts from the crowd. "BASH HER FACE IN!" ... "COME ON BECCA!!! GET UP! GET UP!!!" Sarah calls out, but I just look down at you, with my blood smeared on your lips and cheek as I breathe hard, trying to catch my breath after that intense struggle. I reach up and grab your hair with both hands as I pant and I pull down with both hands, jerking your head down into the floor more and bending your neck. "You... made a mistake... getting... unnn... in here... with me" I say as I start to move my hands back and forth, side to side, and I drag the back of your head across the metal flooring as I push with my arms and start to slide my body down yours.

I lean in as my mouth moves back yours and I lick the blood from your lips and continue to slide. My lips dragging down your chest to your right breast, and I take the blue bikini top in my teeth and clench it, pulling it down to a roar of approval from the crowd. Your left nipple is hard, rock hard from the adrenaline spiking through your body. I lick it once, just for show for the crowd, and ask... "you want to bite, you FUCKING BITCH!" and then I push my head down, put my lips around the stiff, and I try to bite down into areola as my tongue rubs your nipple and I pay you back for biting into my fucking neck.

Rebecca: Fighting through the daze, I recognize your lips as you lick the blood from my face, even as your hands grind and drag my head against the metal flooring. Your words wash over me, both literally as your panting breath fills my face, and metaphorically. This fucking bitch is showing off and preening over me! My temper flares even hotter at the insult, but the dragging and grinding of my head make it hard to shake off the daze. My hands grope for your face to shove it off, but you're already moving on, sliding down me as your lips trail across my sweaty chest.

There is a tear as you take the thin bikini material in your teeth then snap your head to one side, tearing and twisting the material out of position to bare my left breast, my nipples erect and pointing towards the overhead lights. The crowd explodes in approval and roars, screaming and cheering as your teeth clamp down on me. My back arches as my hips and abs grind into you, my body reacting to the pain. You add insult to injury as your tongue dances over my nipple. "BECCA!! DON'T LET THAT WHORE DO THAT TO YOU! FUCK HER UP!" Sarah shouts, a plaintive note in her voice as you torture me and pay me back for my earlier bite, the marks of which are still visible on your shoulder....

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU WHORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I scream as you lean over and into me. Your focus on my chest and your body position mean the grip on my hair, while solid, isn't as effective at grinding and dragging my head against the cage floor, which given your bite is the least of my concerns but it is better than nothing. I scream and try to shake you off, but you have spread yourself and the base of your gravity in a way that makes it impossible. The pain, however, serves the purpose of cutting through the haze and sharpens my mind.

With a snarl, I decide to fight fire with fire and, recalling your earlier attack, uncurl my hands, sliding them down your back...cupping your shoulder from behind as you lean over me, I curl my fingers inward, thumbs against your shoulder as I claw up and into your armpits, seeking out that sensitive spot that made me howl with pain earlier, hoping to make you howl as well and release my breast, ready to shove or twist once those nasty teeth come loose in an effort to get you off of me.

[CrimsonDesire]

Kimberly: You call me a whore as I bite you, trying to drag your head side to side as my teeth sink into your flesh, but I'm more focused on the bite than anything. I hear Sarah's screams and every word from that bitch's mouth is making me more and more eager to show up at her house or maybe even her wedding and kick her ass for everything she's saying to you. "TEAR HER APART KIM!!! THAT'S IT!" Lisa shouts out, and I smirk even as I bite you and think about how it must feel for your longtime friend and opponent to be cheering for your pain.

But before I get too lost in thought I feel your hands go down and cup my shoulders and then slide up into my armpits. You find that sensitive spot and push your nails and I scream in pain ... "AWWWW cxnt!" I shout as my lips pull from your breast and my head turns. Your nipple pushes against my cheek as you shove with your arms and buck with your hips and you shove me off hard. I fall to your left and then quickly roll, getting my distance from you and laying there for a moment ... breathing hard and trying to fill my lungs with much-needed air.

I roll to my knees and then push my hands on the cold steel floor and start to push myself up. I look at you as you lay there, both of us gasping for air and trying to get up and back into this fight ... "Come on Becca ... GET UP!" I shout to you as I start to slowly stand. "GET THE FUCK UP BITCH!" I shout and spit in your direction. As I stand there, my hands on my hips to hold myself up and keep me from doubling over in pain, there is blood running down my shoulder to my breast, scratches on my face, and redness all over my body from rolling on the steel floor.

"Come on BECCA ... GET UP AND FINISH THAT WHORE!" "KILL THAT cxnt, KIM" the shouts wash over us from the crowd as we stare into each other's eyes in this locked cage. I close my hands into fists as you stand and then I charge, lowering my right shoulder, keeping the bitten right one safe and trying to drive it into your chest and drive you back into the bars, although with this level of exhaustion, my will is far stronger than my ability.

Rebecca: I painfully push to my feet after a pause, my bare left breast showing the red marks of your sharp teeth. Sweat soaks my body, my hair is a mess, my chest heaving. Small blooms of red form around my nipple as your teeth cut the skin, but only slightly, so only now is there a small trickle of blood smearing my areola. Trickles of blood also smear my ass and the back of my thigh from your earlier clawing, and my bikini is partially twisted out of position, but wasting time worrying about modesty is the last of my thoughts.

The crowd's screams wash over us, as we stare into each other's eyes. I see your hands close into fists, and as you charge forward I anticipate you trying to crack a punch into my jaw, catfight or no. I snap my arms up to block the punch, but it doesn't come, and instead your shoulder slams into my chest as our bodies collide once more. I let out a gasp as you drive me backward. The fight has taken its toll on both of us, and your collision isn't as hard as it earlier would have been, but still drives me back ...

I backpedal under the impact of your charge, the momentum carrying me backward, though slower than before. I feel the hard, unyielding metal bars against my back as you drive me into them. I grunt in pain, my eyes squeezing shut. My arms wrap around your head and shoulders, keeping your shoulder pressed to my chest. My back throbs in agony, my toned upper body aching from the impact, my willpower driving me on though. I squeeze tightly, trapped between you and the cage. I lift my legs up and wrap them around your waist, locking my ankles and squeezing as I hug you to me, making you bear much of the weight, trying to wear you down.

Kimberly: My shoulder connects as your hands come up and the clenching of my fists was just enough to distract you from my real purpose, and with my shoulder in your chest and your arms wrapping around my head and shoulders I drive, bare feet pressing on cold steel and legs driving until ... UMMMPHHHHH ... I gasp out and exhale loudly as your back collides. The crowd comes to its feet entirely. There's not a single person sitting in this warehouse because they all know how dangerous the bars are. This is where pretty girls have their faces bashed in or their heads slammed against steel. This is no place for two roommates who will be going back to the same place to sleep tonight after all of this violence, and yet here we are.

Your legs come up and wrap around my waist and squeeze tightly, and suddenly I feel the weight of both of us dragging down on me. My hands come around your waist and I grab for the steel bars and I grunt loudly as you hold on tight to me. I squeeze the bars, pull back as far as my arms will go, pulling your back off the bars like I did when I pulled your back off the bars by your hair, and I drive with my feet forward as the crowd screams for more and more violence ... "BREAK HER! BREAK HER FACE!" "THAT'S IT ... GET HER KIM ... FUCK HER UP!"

Rebecca: If I was thinking more clearly, I'd realize that anything that kept you and I locked together and me against the cage is a bad idea, but given the wild and crazed nature of our intense battle, logical thinking isn't high on my list. And I am paying for that now, as you pull back, bearing my weight even more fully, for a brief moment, before you slam forward once more, driving my body into the bars once again. Your legs tense and thrust as your feet push against the cage floor, driving me back into the bars once more.

A pained GRUNT is driven from my lips, as my grip on you goes slack, my legs slipping down to the ground again. My back aches from the repeated abuse against the dangerous bars. I let out a moan. My legs are a bit wobbly but are keeping me from slumping down. My hands rake down your back, more on instinct than any plan ... just wanting to pay you back in any way I can, claws tearing blindly at your bare skin and the bikini top strings as the crowd cheers for more and worse violence. I let out another low groan as I shake my head, trying to shake off the impact of your slams into the bars.

Kimberly: You squeeze around my waist with those strong, long, vicious legs that more than once have wrapped around me so tightly that I had to give right then and there, but up like this you're just around my hips, not crushing my organs or my breasts, and you're literally holding yourself in place for me. Well, if this bitch wants a ride, then I'm going to give it to her. I pull back as I hold onto the bars and drive, slamming your back against the bars again hard and making you grunt.

Your legs drop. Your hands claw at my back and whether you mean or not you claw at the flimsy straps of this red bikini I was given to wear and you pull it loose as you scratch my skin. The crowd roars as the top falls to the floor between us just after your feet drop and barely hold you up. I can feel your head shaking above me as your grip on my head loosens, and as I push back on the bars, getting more distance from our bodies, your back starts to slide down the cold steel.

I stand up straight and grab your hair, pulling your head back and making you look me in the eyes as I keep your body from dropping to the floor by my hands in your hair, and I turn my left hip back, opening myself up a bit and then turn, I fire my left knee up into your right ribs as your body slump and slides and everything is lower than normal. I drive the knee in and then pull back as the crowd gasps ... "I'LL BREAK YOUR FUCKING RIBS BECCA!" I scream out as I turn and fire up another at your side as I hold your hair and feel the sweat dripping down my now barely covered body.

Rebecca: I groan as you grip my hair tightly, forcing me to look you in the eyes as you keep me trapped against the cruel bars. My hands grope at your shoulders as we stare into each other's eyes, my blue orbs showing the dazed and slightly unfocused state of my mind. You drive your left knee up into my ribs, dragging a gasp from the crowd, then scream in my face and hammer me again. My side aches badly, and I feel like you might be doing exactly what you said.

Sweat coats both of us. I suspect your body tensing for yet another brutal knee, and I want to avoid that by any means possible, and in my dazed state, my primal instincts give me one answer. My hands that were resting more than gripping your shoulders let go, and I raise my hands up, curling my fingers into claws and raking them viciously at your face, slashing down at your pretty features, hoping the nasty clawing will cause you to cry out and give me some space.

Kimberly: I hold your hair, and we look into each other eyes. No, I make you look into my eyes as I bash my knee into your ribs with an intensity that would have been almost unthinkable at home except for very rare occasions. And even then, it would have been only one. Not, two, and certainly not the third I've got planned for you. "YEAH ... BREAK HER!!!" We both hear coming from the crowd. "NO BECCA!!! GET OUT OF THERE!!!" Sarah calls out. As I pull back for another knee, I feel tired and sluggish. I'm slower, certainly slower than with the first knee, and as I pull my left leg back your hands move from my shoulders to my face, curl in, and rake down. There's an audible gasp from the crowd and then thunderous applause that almost drown out my scream.

"AWWWWW FUCKKKKKK FUCKING cxnt!!!!!" My hands shove on your head by your hair, driving it back on instinct and it goes just between the two bars that are in your back as I try to get away from you. I go to grab for your hands as I pull back but you slash down my face hard and your hands pull from my cheek and I end up grabbing my own face instead, screaming in pain as I back away, "FUCK ... FUCKING BITCH ... I'LL KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING WHORE!" I shout as I hold my face and back away. My face feels like it's on fire as I feel your scratches on my skin a few drops of blood on my fingers ... "FINISH HER BECCA ... TEAR HER FACE OFF!" the crowd shouts as my left hand comes up, trying to keep distance between us as tears roll down my eyes from the stinging pain.

Rebecca: The vicious face claw accomplished its goal ... it backed you off, and in a big way. There is something intensely personal about having your face attacked like that, and it draws a big reaction, which was what I was hoping for. My sides ache from your vicious pounding, but I cut off the source as you stagger back, clutching your face. My own head gets shoved between the bars as you pushed away on instinct, furiously.

My sweat-soaked hair spills outside the cage as my head is shoved between the bars, my shoulder blades resting against the solid metal as the crowd screams and roars, shouts of encouragement for me to keep tearing you apart, shouts of encouragement for you to get back in the game and go back to finishing me, and shouts of general, fight-fan crazed bloodlust.

I pant hard, sweat dripping off of me. I groan and pull my head forward, between the bars, as I roll my shoulders, pushing off the cage wall. Sweat coats my body, my bikini mangled and torn, twisted off of me, your top laying on the cage floor at this point. I want to curl up and sleep, but I know I can't risk that against you; if it were our place, then yes, maybe I would: submit, move on, and go for next time. But not here, in this place, this cage of pain, and not now, with both of us so far beyond what we usually do.

I shake my head, trying to ignore the pain, and sidestep towards you, claws curled at my sides as my chest heaves. The crowd's shouts wash over us as you try to clear your vision. I bare my teeth in a snarl, and then rush forward, hands extended for your gorgeous red hair to tear into it again, but instead at the last minute I try to grab for your wrists as I assume you will move to block or grab for my hair and snap my right knee up to your belly to pay you back for some of your earlier, nasty knee shots to my body.

Kimberly: I finally pull my hands from my face only to watch you pulling off the bars. If only your head was 6 inches or so to the right or the left when I shoved with my hands I would drive your head back into the bars and at the very least stunned you, but your head pushed right through, your hands clawed my face, and you make me scream like a fucking bitch. It's a rare thing for us. I can count on one hand how many times either of us has ever attacked the other's face with our claws.

But then again, we've never fought like this. In a cage, in a place of pain and punishment. Trying to break each other. Trying to make each other's bodies shut down and watch our roommate go unconscious. I watch as you step away from the bars and I try to center myself physically and mentally. I threatened to kill you moments ago, something I would never do, but that's how I felt in the moment. And now the crowd is feeding off it.

"SNAP HER NECK KIM!" "BREAK HER FUCKING SPINE BECCA!" the shouts pour out from the crowd, and while it might sound like idle threats, we've both seen things, horrific things, happen in the cage, intentionally and unintentionally. I see you side step and start to come towards me. You bare your teeth and I shriek at you, "COME AND GET IT cxnt!"

Your hands come up for my hair and I raise my hands as well. It's not just my hair I'm worried about now. It's my face. I can handle scars on my body for the rest of my life. In fact, I actually enjoy them and cherish each one. But I can't have scars on my face. But as my hands come up you don't grab my hair and my own grab is thwarted as you grab my wrists and pull me into you while firing your knee up into my belly.[

"UGHHHHHHHH GAWWDDD" The knee connects and I double over with you holding my wrists. "THAT'S IT ... GET HER BECCA!" I hear in the crowd as I groan, "you... FUCKING ... BITCH!" I scream as I drive with my feet, double over in pain and trying to drive my shoulder into you again, but this time I'm driving down and trying to drive you into the unforgiving steel floor, although after that blow my legs feel weak and my drive isn't nearly what I hope it would be.

Rebecca: My knee connects and it doubles you over. That sensation, the feeling of my opponent doubling over in pain, bending and crumbling from my blow, is sweet under normal circumstances, but even sweeter now. You scream from the impact. "I love when you scream for me, bitch!" I snarl as I release your wrists and extend my claws, intent on raking your back. You follow that scream up with a charge though, slamming into me. I let out a pained grunt as your body slams into my toned abs. Instead of driving me back to the dangerous cage wall again, however, you try driving down. My claws reach out, trying to grab at your body as I try to keep on my feet; your impact is less controlled and precise than it would have been earlier, but then again, my reflexes are duller than they would have been earlier, too.

My claws come up and grab you, one snagging into your long hair, the other catching your right bicep, as I start to fall to the floor. I drag you with me, twisting, and we both hit the floor, roughly on our sides, each of us taking a share of the impact. I probably have the worse, but the fall wasn't as powerful a slam as it might have been, more a stumble and fall. Still, the ground is unforgiving, and I can feel a bruise on my side forming to join all the others. UGGGHHH!!! I snarl and squirm, equally furious and terrified you might get atop me once more and finish me on the floor. I yank at your arm and hair, thrashing wildly as I try to get us rolling, hoping to roll you over in order to get atop you as we cattily struggle in a pile on the cage floor.

Kimberly: Double over but driving as well as I can, I don't so much drive my shoulder into you as I do stumble forward into you and both of us are too weak to keep the other upright. You shout about loving to hear me scream, and it's true. We're both screamers. One of the first things you did when you moved in was soundproof the apartment, which wasn't cheap, but it meant we could do what we wanted, how we wanted, without worrying about the neighbors. But this isn't our apartment with its soft carpet and plush couches. This is a metal floor surrounded by metal bars.

As we stumble your hands come up, grabbing my right bicep with your left hand and my hair with your right, and when we collapse it's to our sides, with me on my right and you on your left and your arm holding mine beneath us. That's why you take more of the fall, but damn it still hurts. "ughhhhhhh.... fuckkkk!" We both lay there as the crowd screams, different shouts encouraging each of us to get on top and try to finish the other. Laying on our sides, face to face, my side aching, your left arm and my right arm pinned, your right hand in my hair, I look you straight in the face and spit in your gorgeous face... "FUCK YOU BECCA!" I scream as I reach up with my left hand towards your face, curl my fingers, and pull them down the side of your face.

Rebecca: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHH!" I scream as you retaliate, clawing my right cheek, leaving red furrows in the wake of your nails even as spit drips off my face. My cheek lights up in pain as the claws leave their marks, the sweat already on my face oozing into the fresh scratches and stinging all the more sharply. "I'LL KILL YOU, KIM!" I scream back. My right hand shoots up and grabs at your left hand, but you've already clawed me.

Instead of letting you pull back your hand from my cheek, though, I grip it tightly and pull it towards me, even as I twist my head, baring my teeth and sinking them into the meaty side of your left hand. I can taste the sweat and the smears of blood on your hand as I clamp down. My right knee starts thrashing forward, swinging wildly to strike at your thigh or whatever else it can reach as we struggle on our sides, body to body, on the cage floor. "NNNNNNNNNNNGGGGHHH!" I snarl as I shake my head with your hand in it, the primal war between us showing no sign of relenting, despite the exhaustion we are both feeling.

Kimberly: That gorgeous face. I've seen men and women stop dead in their tracks just from glancing at your face. I've seen your smile light up a room and completely change the mood of the people around you. I've seen this face stare down a bitch so severely she backed out of the fight before it ever started. And now I've got my claws in it, pulling down and scratching your sensitive cheek just to pay you back. There are more strategic moves, like rolling on top, which should have been obvious, but all I cared about was hurting you. "NOT IF I KILL YOU FIRST CU-UUWWWWWW FUCKKK!!!"

My taunt turns into a scream as you grab my wrist and pull my fingers to your mouth. You bite down hard and I shout in pain. "NNNNNNGGHHHHH GAWWDD" I try to pull my hand back, but your teeth are locked tight, tearing into and cutting my skin as your knee starts to fire. The first misses awkwardly, the second glances over my thigh, but the third connects, catching me squarely in my left thigh. "UWWWWWWWWWW' I scream again and collapse to my back. You pounce, quickly rolling over me and giving up the bite and your claws in my right bicep to do it. My hands now free I shoot them between and go right for your breast. Your top is so out of position it's easy to find my mark. My claws dig into your breast, but the real prize is those rock hard nipples. I try to catch them with my thumbnails, pushing in on the tips and sawing my nipples as I push with my hands, trying to force you up and a bit and at least make it harder for you to grab my hair and bash my head into the floor.

Rebecca: In a flash, I am on top of you, rolling you onto your back, my knees on either side of you on the flat metal floor. And in a flash, your claws come up and sink into my breasts; one is already bared from your earlier attack but your hand tears into the other just as easily as my top is askew. From the crowd, the screams grow louder once more, with shouts of "Smash her head in!" "Tear her tits off!" "FUCK HER UP! FUCK HER UP!" and others coming from the audience.

I can feel your sharp nails slashing into my rock-hard nipples, and the pain is both sudden and intense! I grab at your wrists, trying to pull them away, but you have a good grip and don't need to do more than hold on to keep digging those thumbnails in. I throw back my head and howl in pain. I release your wrists and shoot my right hand to your left ear, gripping it cruelly, mostly to keep you in place but not minding twisting and digging my nails in the process, while my left hand raises up and starts firing a barrage of vicious slaps at your head, smacking at your cheek and temple, anywhere on your face in sudden, rapid-fire succession. "LET GO!!!!!!!!!!" I snarl, my voice full of fury and hate.

Kimberly: What in the hell are we going to say to each other in the apartment later? "Hey Kim, sorry I cut your face open." "Hey Becca, sorry you may have problems nursing kids one day because I cut your nipples in half." If we were strangers what we're doing to each other might be unthinkable to most, but for us it feels so natural, so right, no matter how well we know each other. And the crowd only fuels our blood and battle lust.

It drives and pushes us, step by step, in this fight, to always outdo the other, always one up her, always hurt her more than she's hurting her, and if we keep escalating at this rate it may just be that that crowd will get the violent conclusion it's practically screaming for. Of course, some of the most violent screams and threats haven't come from the crowd, but from us. No matter how much I trust you, someone saying she wants to kill you always has to be taken seriously, and that's only further the intensity of this.

So, I dig in, not giving two shits if the sweet kids you'll hopefully introduce me to will never nurse from their mother. I just look into your eyes and claw, and all I see glaring back at me is hate and rage, not the smiling, happy, playful roommate I watch movies with practically every night (can anyone really enjoy watching Deadpool that much?), but a wild animal bitch who reaches out for my ear, clawing into it and making me scream. "AWWWWWW FUCKK!!! cxnt!!" But those screams begin to get muffled by your slapping hand, over and over on my face, forcing me to let go and try to stop you. My right hand grabs for your left, grabbing at the wrist and digging my claws into the soft undersides as I yank your hand to the side, my left hand clenches into a fist and start to beat on your sides and ribs again... "GETT... THE FUCK... OFFF... MEE!!!!"

Rebecca: I gasp in relief as my wild slaps and smacks finally drive you to let go, grabbing at my wrist to block the blows. My top is basically just hanging uselessly around my neck at this point, my chest bare, my breasts red with marks from your claws, and a trickle of blood from where your sawing thumbnails cut the skin on each. I try to yank my hand free, but you have a good grip. "FUCK YOU!" I scream back ... I'm capable of being an eloquent person, but this isn't the time or place for it. I grunt as I feel your left fist start smacking into my sides and ribs as you pound on me, and order me off.

"MAKE ME!" I snap back. Your punches don't have the snap to them that they had earlier in the fight, but they aren't exactly love taps, either, and my body is sore from this war. I shift forward on my knees and then lunge forward, trying to flop atop you, my pert, bare, bloody and scratched chest trying to crash into your face as I fall atop you like a sack of potatoes, trying to smother and grind you against the firm floor, and give you less room to swing those punches. My left hand is trapped by your right, but my right reaches around to grip your hair, trying to keep your head trapped in place as I grind the back of your head against the floor even as my chest smothers your face.

Kimberly: "FUCK YOU BECCA!" I scream right back at you as my hands leave your tits and I start to punch into the side of your body. I hope to hurt you enough to knock you off, and as your body starts to move, even after your taunt of "make me" I think it might have worked, but your body doesn't fall off me. Instead, you lunge forward as you shift on your knees and you drop atop me. Your breasts, scratched and bleeding, drop across my face and you grab my hair to hold me and I scream a muffled scream directly into those full, perky breasts.

I gasp hard as your body crashes down, and I try to breathe in deep it's a struggle to get any air at all between your weight on my lungs and your breasts pressing against my mouth and nose. You start to shift my head, grinding the back of my head against the rough flooring, and I do the only thing I can think of. My punches are weaker. My legs are weaker, but my nails are still as sharp and when the fight started, and we did say this was a catfight. My left hand shoots down as your body slides higher on mine. Your legs straddle my sides and your ass rests on my stomach. My left hand slides down between us, between our flat toned abs, between our pressing hips, and into your thong. My fingers curl, and I try to jam my nails straight into your pussy.

Rebecca: I twist my shoulders, thrusting and rubbing my chest into your face, making it harder to breathe as my sweat-soaked breasts press into your face, smothering you even as I am grinding your head down against the hard metal floor. I feel as much as hear your muffled screams as the sound is transmitted directly to my chest. The crowd goes wild again as I smother you, my knees bent as I thrust my body into yours, riding you as I try to grind out any last embers of resistance. I throw my head back and snarl, reveling in controlling you. That snarl turns to a scream as your claws slide into my bikini bottoms and then curl up into me painfully, raking at me and clawing viciously.

I howl in agony. "FUCKING BITCH!" I scream at the top of my lungs, my throat on fire from all the screaming, raw and aching with every new scream, but unable to contain them. I jolt up, freeing your head, a hand shooting out to grab at your wrist to pull it free, rage and adrenaline driving me on as I yank violently at your arm. "YOU'RE A FUCKING DEAD WOMAN!" I scream as I try to remove the offending nails from me, my eyes blazing to a whole new level of fury. Not thinking about tonight, not thinking about tomorrow, not thinking about how we could repair this relationship, or if we even should at this point ... just thinking of hate, spittle flecking off my lips as I scream.

Kimberly: The way you straddle me, with your ass up for anyone on that side of the cage getting a perfect view, it also gives them a perfect view of the bulge in your thong. Of course, people here are used to seeing bulges in underwear. Men often get a throbbing erection as they fight and wrestle, but that's not what this bulge is. It's my fingers, curled into your pussy, clawing at your wet labia and clit, and it has exactly the desired effect. Your body jumps off mine as you sit up and show off your bare, clawed, bleeding breasts to the crowd.

You grab my arm and yank violently at it, digging your nails into my left arm and pulling it as you pull my nails from your sex and scream about me being a fucking dead woman... "THEN DO IT BECCA... FUCKING TRY IT WHORE!" and the crowd just roars at the ever-escalating violence and hostility. As you hold my left arm I release your left wrist and I bring my hand up. My nails worked for me last time, let's see if they can work again. Your head is turned back as you scream, exposing your neck, and I go for your throat. But I don't squeeze and I don't grab, I try to claw. I tear down the front of your neck with my claws and pull my nails down to your chest as my hips try to buck, but with your weight on me, I can barely manage to get them up.

Rebecca: Your sharp nails rake down my throat, exposed from my head being thrown back. Red lines follow in their wake and droplets of blood swell out of the lines moments later, as your vicious, sharp nails scratch and claw my bare throat, cutting the skin in places and leaving me even bloodier, albeit in small doses. I scream once more, my throat starting to go hoarse at this point form all the shouting, but the sound, though raspier, still conveys the pain of your cruel attack, as we exchange vicious, violent, catty blows.

Still gripping your left arm in my hand, I flex my nails and dig into your tender skin as my hand constricts reflexively in reaction to the pain. My head snaps forward as I stare daggers at you, as your claws reach the base of my throat and start trailing down towards my chest. My free hand comes up to grab your clawing right as well. "OH, I FUCKING WILL!" I shout with a throaty snarl as I stare down at you, teeth bared ... then I try shoving your hands out towards the side as my body snaps downward, but this time instead of smothering you my jaw opens wide as my teeth try to latch onto where your neck and right shoulder meet!

Kimberly: I have to get you off. I have to or no matter what I do, it's just delaying the inevitable. Your legs are over my hips, your weight pressing down on me, and I'm exhausted and spent. So, I do what I can, hoping maybe the pain or blood loss or exhaustion will make you fall off of me, but so far you're on me, and it occurs to me that you might be just as exhausted as I am and you can't get off of me even if you wanted to, even if you had to. You threaten to kill me, I tell you to fucking try, and you say you fucking will, and you make good on that promise. You claw into my right bicep, pinning it down to the metal floor. You do the same to my left and my hands flail wildly at your body, trying to find any part of you that I can scratch or claw, but I can't get my arms free. Then you lean down, open your mouth wide and sink your teeth right into that incredibly painful spot where my shoulder and neck meet.

"RIP HER THROAT OUT!!! END HER BECCA!!! END HER!!!" My body shakes in pain. It convulses uncontrollably beneath you as my nerve endings feel like they are on fire. My head shakes to the side both in pain and both in a misguided attempt to try and knock my head into yours and knock your teeth from my neck, but you're locked too tight, and I can already feel blood running down my shoulder. My voice is weak and raspy as I shake beneath you in pain, but I force out three words... "I....... hate.... you...."

Rebecca: My body leans over you, pressing into yours; breast to breast, belly to belly, hips to hips; my sex still throbbing from your raking claws, a pain that stands out among the litany of abuse my body has taken; my bleeding face, chest, ass ...bruises where the hard metal of the cage walls or floor hit me, bruises where your vicious fists abused me. My body is a canvas of pain and abuse. But so is yours, and as I clamp down on your neck and shoulder, near the trapezius, I use that pain. I lean into you, letting my weight bearing down on you, grind into you.

I can taste a fresh round of the coppery tang of blood in my mouth as my teeth cut the skin. Your head twists, bucking and wrenching as you try to get free, but my bite is too firm. I hear your words: "I .... hate ...you ..." and the content is no surprise, but the weakness of them tells me that, while we have both been riding the edge of the line of exhaustion, you might be being close to being pushed over. That sense, the sense victory could be so close, is like a fresh spike of adrenaline in my body ... the thrill of victory so close I can taste it.

I twist my shoulder and head slightly, bearing down and grinding into my pinned rival. I want to say, "I hate you too" but my mouth is otherwise preoccupied. My head spins ... and I remember the conditions ... KO. That feeling victory is so close... My jaw opens, and I release your neck. My hands release your wrists and snake to your hair. I think about yanking your head up and bashing it against the cage floor ... but I want to SEE you when your eyes go out ... so instead I painfully force myself up on my knees once more as my fingers wrap around your throat. My blue eyes stare down at you, staring at you, as my hands clench tightly around your neck in a choke. "You ... are ...finished ...." I hiss with a raspy tone, my eyes hungrily seeking out the glimmer in yours as I hope to see it go out.

Kimberly: Years of catfighting, and I've never put my body through anything like this before. I feel like I've been run over by a truck, except the tire of the truck is not pressing down on my neck, tearing my skin and making me bleed. I'm almost praying you'll pick my head up and bash my head into the floor. One hard bash and I'd be done and all the pain I'm feeling would disappear. But this... this is excruciating.

My body shakes and convulses below you, twitching and unable to move from the paralyzing pain and complete and utter exhaustion. Maybe I'll bleed out and that will stop the pain. I don't care. It just has to stop. Except for a few voices, the crowd is now completely on your side, because they want is violence, and how much violence they get to see is up to you. I wouldn't be the first person to lose her life in this cage, and the screams of the crowd are asking for you to finish me off once and for all.

If I could I would beg you to get off me, but I can't. And when I feel your teeth release it's a mixture of both relief and overwhelming frustration. This isn't over yet. You shift your body and I look up at you. I look up at you. So beautiful. So smart. So sexy. If you asked me to be more than roommates I'd have jumped all over you in a heartbeat, and now you're looking down on me with a look I've never seen in your eyes before. I go to say your name, but all I manage is "BE-" before your fingers close around my throat.

I look up into your eyes, and for some reason my mind flashes to last night, when we were at home, music playing softly in the background as I made you your favorite meal and jokingly called it your "last meal." We laughed about this fight. Joked about. But no one is laughing or joking now. Your fingers close and tighten, and I can't breathe. I don't know how far you plan to take this. Do you plan to just choke until I'm out... or farther until my lungs have stopped moving entirely?

I look up into your face, looking into your eyes, seeing the hate and the anger and the pain staring down at me, and as my face changes color and my visions starts to darken, and one last thought runs through my brain before my eyes roll back and my legs stop kicking and my hands slump to the side: if the last face I ever seen in this life is yours... I'm ok with that.

Rebecca: Your lips open and you croak out a sound at me, my fingers wrapped around your neck and squeezing. Your eyes meet mine, those gorgeous, beautiful eyes. I always get compliments on mine, but I've always found yours to be amazing too, and in this moment, they are amazing in that they are, as the phrase goes, a mirror to the soul. And your soul is clearly in pain, and fading fast. The pupils focus on me, and you can see the blazing fury in my own eyes as I am still caught up in the fury of the battle, a vicious battle that eclipses any other fight I've had.

The cage brings out the nastiest in me, both for the better and for the worse, as the competitor in me is also paired with the unfeeling, horrific bitch. Those concerns are for another time, though, as I want, no need only one thing, and I get it ...the sight of your eyes flickering and fading, all the while in contact with mine. Your gaze goes hazy as your eyes flicker and waver, the consciousness behind them being choked out, and I know my rival knows who exactly is responsible for that ... me.

As your legs go slack, your arms limp, and your eyes roll back into your head, I lean forward; not backing off but pressing home as you slide into unconsciousness. The crowd roars, but I don't care about them, I care about you, and beating you. The fact I have already beaten you is a fact that has yet to register, so caught up in the moment am I. "I OWN YOU BITCH! I OWN YOU!" I scream in a hoarse voice.

Only then does my mind start to realize what has happened. The door opens with a clank, and arms hook under mine, pulling me off your unconscious form. Blood, sweat, and tears smear both of us ... one of the attendants raises my arm as I look down at you, dread finally starting to register in my mind about what I may have done. The crowd roars still, having loved the vicious ending. Even now I can't deny the thrill of the victory over such a dangerous foe, despite that feeling being mixed with dread and a sense of loss ... what have I done?

Another attendant slides over to you, slapping your cheek lightly, trying to revive you, but you stay limp. My heart skips a beat. The attendant tries to open your eyes and shakes you... You stay limp. My heart skips another beat. The attendant pulls a small mirror out from a back pocket and places it in front of your lips ... and doesn't react ... my heart skips a third beat. My best friend, my roommate, my opponent sure, but my favorite opponent ... what have I done? The attendant pulls the mirror up and there is a slight fog on it.

"She's breathing!" My heart starts beating again, rapidly as if to make up for the missed ones. I slump in the arms of the person raising my hand in victory. A few in the crowd ACTUALLY BOO the news, and I want to stab each of them in the throat ... but I don't have the energy to do more than stumble on my feet. "Well, folks, that was a great show, wasn't it? Up next ..." my attention trails off ... lost in what I nearly did, and what I became.

Postlude:
Kimberly: It's several days later. I couldn't bring myself, either physically or mentally, to go home that night. Lisa took me home with her, and Becca and I haven't spoken since the fight. I've spent the last few days alternating between long hot baths and lying curled up and sobbing in pain on Lisa's guest bed. I check my phone. There are more messages from Becca asking if I'm ok, and I'm finally in a place that I think I can respond. "I'm ok, Becca. I'm at Lisa's trying to recover." I hit send and then thought for a moment. A small smile crossed my lips and my fingers began to type another message. "And, sweetie, we have to do that again " Your response turned my simple smile into an even bigger one. "Come home when you're ready, but don't take too long please. I'm tired of watching Deadpool alone. And yes we do. "

THE END!

[sinclairfan]

Loved every minute of it!......

[Mauler Michelle]

I've skimmed through it and I'm amazed. I mean amazed! Perhaps the two hottest women to ever face off and in such a brutal way. I'm in pain just reading it!

[Sexy Sara J]

Wow.. Such talent on both sides. Great read, thank you both for sharing it with us Loved every little bit!

[BigMommaJoanie]

I don't know Becca but I do know Kim well and for Becca to put Kim away - amazing! I'd suggest no rematch. How far will these two go to settle it?

[Anna the Marine Chick]

Amazing! It is the best word for what I just read. Kim and Becca, my top off to you ladies for a litirary masterpiece!

[Heavyweight_Honey]

Fantastic read, a lot of intensity went into this!

[Ewa S]

What an amazing fight, but what to expect from two of the very, very best on FCF's ^^

Great job ladies, and I won't say congrats to only Rebecca, cuz I think you both won so much with this brilliant fight! *muah*

[Rebecca P]

Thanks for all the kind words, Kimberly really is awesome and an amazing talent.

[RedEnforcer]

Very impressive ladies. Thanks for sharing!

[#Bridgette#]

Amazing!  ANYTHING that Kimberly does always is!  Luv you girl!

[CrimsonDesire]

Genevieve - I'm glad you're impressed.

Sinclairfan - Thanks so much!

Michelle - The pain you feel reading it doesn't compare to what I'm going to do to you soon.

Sara - You're welcome.

Joanie - We need to climb back into the ring again. I think we still have several falls to go.

Anna - I don't know about a literary masterpiece, but it's nice to be complimented by such a great writer.

Gail - Intense indeed. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Ewa - It was definitely a win/win, and I want you again soon. Pollfight?

Becca - You are so awesome and creative. It makes getting pummeled by you so much fun.

Red - Let's talk more soon.

Caitlin - *searches for my boxing gloves* Soon, honey. Soon. 

Bridgette - If anything I do is amazing, and I do you, I think that makes you amazing too.

[Rebecca P]

So of course Kimberly upstages me with her personalized responses.     But I will echo what she said, even at the risk of making me seem derivative.  Thank you to all, each and every one.

[tomboy999999]

Hell's belles that was INTENSE. The best cyber cat I've ever read!

I don't usually go into biting and strangleholds but they seemed jut a natural a part of that fight it was so intense.

Great stuff ladies , well done