Fyre's Fight Journal, Chapter 42: Doin' Hard Time?
The text is short and simple "Call me, ASAP- Rebecca". The anxiety inducing wait for this moment has been anything but. After being convicted and sentenced in the Catpin Court, it has felt like the sword of Damocles is dangling above me. I've been wary about scheduling fights or wearing my catpin in public knowing that I might get this notification any moment and didn't want to be caught at a disadvantage.
"Yes, Judge... I'll be there within the hour." I answer after Rebecca fills me in on my first court ordered opponent. I've been given a name, an address and was texted a picture. The judge wants me to fight this woman soon and told me that she is usually home before lunch. As I just got the kid to school and have learned to keep bag full of workout clothes- also known as catfighting gear, in my jeep at all times, I might as well just get to it, right?
"Mrs. Rose, I appreciate your eagerness and attentiveness to the matter but you have until the end of the week. I really to try to keep these unfortunate events from becoming worse by giving you a decent window for you to complete your required fights.... and, one more thing, Kelli, after you tell Heather that I sent you, be prepared for anything. She may look like an ordinary trophy wife but she is a first rate bitch and nasty to the core. She more than deserved her sentence. Not a woman to be taken lightly. Good luck, Mrs. Rose." Judge Reynolds says before hanging up.
After finding a parking lot to get my GPS set and make sure I have everything I need, I study the picture the judge sent of this Heather Katz. She looks like the typical overly opinionated, arrogant, condescending rich bitch from that part of town. I suppose that will make it easier to be in the right frame of mind to get into a knockdown, drag out fight- just like wearing a catpin. That does seem fitting.
I make my way to the address Rebecca gave me and see that Heather's house is one of the biggest in a neighborhood full of really big houses. This part of the city is filled with the high earner "professional" class. Lots of very driven people with high level jobs and big egos. The type of neighborhood that can create some of the best- or, at least, the nastiest catfighters.
I pull into the large circular driveway in front of the very modern three story house. I park and grab my gym bag before heading towards the front door. I'm dressed in the suburban woman's springtime uniform- yoga pants, turquoise and black leopard print, a black tank top and white sports bra. Fortunately, I'm wearing sandals so I won't have to deal with sneakers or anything. Less stuff to keep up with after a fight is almost always better in my experience.
I walk up to the big door. The shapely brunette from the picture opens the door. "You, Heather?" I ask, my eyes locking with the woman's brown eyes. The woman's expression goes from 'resting bitch face' to 'raging bitch face'. It's pretty apparent that she knows why I'm at her door.
"That cxnt, Judge Reynolds, send you?" She answers with a contemptuous snarl. Immediately, I know Heather and I are going to have a rough, nasty brawl. My guess is that she, like me, is serving her Catpin Court sentence. I wonder if her case is similar to mine or, like the judge said, she deserved it. I take a quick glance at the woman to see what I'll be tangling with.
Heather Katz looks to be a couple years older than me, maybe early forties. She's definitely pretty enough to be a trophy wife. Though, her demeanor implies that she earns her money. Her skin is just a shade lighter than mine. Her long, curly hair, dark brown hair hangs loosely all the down to her ample chest covered by the straining material of her white sports bra along with her high waisted black leggings. She is barefoot and close to a couple inches shorter than me, she is soft and feminine but I can tell she is sturdy. I'd guess her hourglass shaped body weighs about 140 pounds- a good portion of which is probably ass and tits.
"Yes ma'am. She did. It's your house, where do you want to settle this? The judge didn't tell me what kind of rules." I ask, I can feel the level of tension between Heather and I escalating. The woman on the other side of the threshold exudes aggression and there is an air of downright meanness to her.
The brunette makes a brief attempt to be pleasant but fails miserably, her inner bitch shining through as she answers. "You can blame her when you're nursing your wounds, miss... miss... what's your fucking name, bitch?"
My eyes narrow and I release my own inner bitch. "It's Mrs.... Mrs. Kelli fuckin' Rose, ya conceited cxnt." I growl back.
"She sent me a live one this time. About time. Well, Mrs. Kelli fucking Rose, come inside and we will work out the details of how I'm going to kick your average ass." Heather barks before stepping back and inviting me inside the marble tiled foyer.
Without another word I step through the door with my bag in hand. I hear the door click shut behind me and almost instantly hear her shriek "Fucking bitch!"
I don't have time to turn around before the shrieking, big chested brunette's shoulder slams into my lower back sending my gym bag flying and me crashing into a decorative wooden table. The table collapses from the impact of me and the aggressive woman. The expensive vase that was sitting on top loudly shattering on the marble tiles of the foyer sending artificial flowers and decorative polished glass stones flying everywhere as well as serving as the opening bell of the court ordered clash between Heather and I.
The sneaky socialite scurries up and onto my back and I cry out in agony when I feel her nails sink into my scalp and face as she starts pressing my skull into the cold, hard tile with all of her might.
My instincts kick in and I begin squirming and thrashing furiously, trying to get this bitch off of my back. I am finally able to get my knees under me and buck like a bronco sending my dark haired rival tumbling ass over teakettle and off of me.
I scramble to my feet and kick off the sandal that wasn't lost during the ambush. Heather has gotten upright as well and we square off in the long hallway. "Alright.. ya dirty...fuckin' bitch.. let's dance..." I pant out, raising my fists into a fighting stance.
Heather mirrors my stance and we start to cautiously move towards each other in the large hallway. "I'm going... to destroy you...fucking blonde cxnt!" She hisses just before lunging for my hair right as I do the same.
We both shriek as our fingers curl into each other's hair with one hand while our other hand flails wildly, throwing punches and slaps in a furious "bitch clench". We bounce off of the walls and send framed pictures crashing to the floor as move down the hall trying to gain control of the other woman.
I bury a knee into the dark haired woman's belly that momentarily stuns her long enough for to pin her to the wall with my forearm across her neck. Her eyes bulging when my fist slams into her lower belly. Her claws rake across my face and I recoil in pain.
Heather takes advantage of the opening and charges me, her shoulder sinking deep into my stomach before she drives me into the opposite wall and pinning me against it. I let out a scream when I feel the shorter woman's claws dig into my womanhood. I pound away desperately on her back and then stomp on her bare foot. Finally getting her off of me.
Again, we latch onto each other's hair once more and start hitting each other as we sling our new rival into the walls, trying to muscle her to the ground. We fight our way down the hallway, ending up in the large kitchen of the house.
With one hand still in Heather's dark hair, I use the other to grab her chin. I'm able to force her head skyward and push her, back first, in to the granite countertop of the kitchen's island, sending a couple of barstools crashing to the floor.
I have the rich bitch's back arched over the edge of the countertop and I can her hear her groaning in pain through her gritted teeth as her feet come off of the floor. "Fuckin' hurts... don't it... slut!" I growl, applying more pressure.
Heather is writhing and squirming, clearly in agony, struggling to get free. "Get... the... fuck.. off... ME!" I hear her groan, finishing her sentence as she slams a metal water bottle into my head before she gets her foot onto my belly and kicks me off of her.
I stumble backwards but manage to keep my balance and end up in the connected family room with a very large area rug surrounded by oversized sofas. Heather is staggering towards me, rubbing her back where I had her stretched over the countertop while I am shaking my head trying to refocus after being popped in the noggin with a now dented, Stanley tumbler. She motions to the rug before we focus on each other again. Glaring at each other with hate filled eyes, we silently agree to make our way to the open area and continue our brawl there.
It's clear that we are both veteran fighters and realize that this fight should be settled in a somewhat more orderly fashion without the chaotic randomness that came with fighting all over the rest of the house. "I reckon this is gonna take us a bit to get it settled, ain't it?" I say, my breathing back under control after the wild scrap from the entryway to this room.
"I suppose your bumpkin ass is right about that... let's do this properly.." my curly haired rival says, looking at the path of destruction behind us. "You've broken enough of my expensive shit and I'd prefer to not fuck up this outfit- it's new and probably costs more than your slutty ass is worth... trophies only?" She continues once her eyes resume their lock with mine.
"Trophies?" I ask, confused.
"Your fucking panties you dumb bitch... don't you trailer park tramps take the loser's panties as trophies when you win- of course, skanks like you probably don't even wear panties, do you?" Heather snarls contemptuously.
This fucking bitch's arrogance is enough to make me want to beat her ass on principle alone, regardless of our being forced to fight for the Catpin Court. "Yes I fuckin wear panties... you pompous... egotistical dipshit.." I growl back while we both pull off our tops, then shimmy out of our leggings until we are standing across the rug from each other with only our most private of parts covered. Mine by a small purple thong- as not to leave panty lines and hers by a similar but lacier black thong, no doubt for the same reason.
Next I hear her bark out something to her home automation system about cameras and become aware of one in each corner of the room. This must be where Mrs. Katz hosts her matches.
Standing on opposing corners of the massive rug, we both are evaluating the woman across from us after what was ,essentially, our opening round.
Both of us are pouring with sweat and we are each sporting completely disheveled, wild hair. Sweat stings the scratches on my face and shoulders. My scalp burns after so much of our fight has been focused on using the other woman's hair to control her. Heather has some scratches on her neck and jaw. I also see that her mascara has been smeared from not only our fight but tears of rage and agony. I realize that I have been crying from both as well. If someone saw us, they would definitely think we had just been in a fight, but as bad as we look, we both know that our battle is really only beginning.
"I can't wait to send that...fucking goody two shoes... holier than thou... cxnt judge.. the pic of me... planting my foot... between those... pathetic... excuses for tits... you have..." Heather snarls as we circle each other moving around the rug. Each of us taking swipes and feigning lunges at the other.
"Ya gotta... fuckin, big ass mouth...ya know that... ya rich bitch?" I snap back at the socialite as we launch ourselves at each other again. Our nearly naked bodies collide with the familiar smack of flesh on flesh in the center of the rug and the screams of rage and pain reverberate off the high ceiling of my rival's family room when our violent yanking of the other woman's hair is renewed.
Fuck! This hurts I think to myself as Heather and I try to wrench each other to the ground by our contrasting hair. We yank, pull, and jerk each other around the rug. Neither of us able to gain the upper hand before we tumble to the ground.
We land with a loud thud on the rug and immediately coil around each other, rolling around the floor in a hair pulling focused catball. I've noticed that in the more emotional, primitive and feral a catfight is, the more the other woman and I seem to focus on destroying a particular part of each other. Maybe it's the natural contrast of Heather's curly, brunette locks and my long, golden mane that has us hellbent on wrecking the other bitch until she needs a wig to go out in public. I don't know but neither of us seem interested in changing strategies.
I'm not sure how long Heather and I are locked in our brutal catball, but it's long enough that my knees, elbows and back are stinging with rugburns. The more tired we get, the sloppier and looser our catball becomes and we start adding shin kicks, punches and scratching into our furious feline style fight.
Then I hear the brunette shriek, "Fuck YOU!", as her thick thighs clamp around my belly. I groan through gritted teeth as she slides to the side and her legs apply the leg scissors to maximum effect. My eyes close, my entire focus is on my keeping my abs flexed and not being crushed.
Almost immediately, all of my offense stops but for my instinctive grip of her hair with one hand. "You're.. fucking.. DONE... bitch!" Heather roars, squeezing, pulsing and flexing her viselike legs. Frantically, I writhe and roll, groaning through gritted teeth and trying desperately to get some relief. We roll a few times, but I can't break the hold and end up on my belly.
"Say it!... fucking say... it, Kelli!" Heather commands, yanking my hair once more and pulling my head backwards painfully. I hear my feet pounding the floor and my groans turning to whimpers.
"No... no...NO!" I growl back, only to have Heather jerk my head roughly by my hair. Followed by a stiff slap to my face and ear. It's almost fitting that as primitive as my fight with this woman has been, that I'm about to be finished off by the most basic and naturally instinctive holds in feminine combat.
"You're..beat bitch...you know it!... You know I'm... fucking better... than you!" Heather is reveling in this now. It's like she is getting stronger. It simultaneously feels like I'm about to throw up and pass out. I can feel the tears in my eyes. It hurts so bad.
I know I'm fading to the point that I won't be able to keep from screaming my submission soon. With one last grunt, I try to gather my knees beneath me. I finally let go of her hair and plant my hands on the ground. I start to lift my hips off the ground. My legs shaking and quivering as get to my feet. Heather's legs locked so tightly that I have to pull her entire body up with mine. For the first time in a long while I can breathe somewhat as she slides to a belly to belly- and less tight, version of the hold with her legs still wrapped around my torso.
"No you... fucking don't!" The big tittied bitch barks, stinging my face with a series of slaps, holding on for dear life with her legs and a hand still gripping my hair. I try to stay on my feet but falter under her assault and I drop back to my knees, attempting to slam her to the rug as we fall. The impact loosens her legs just enough for me to slip one leg up and over her hip. My left hand quickly goes back into her dark hair and I start slapping away with my right.
We are locked pussy to pussy with hands in each other's hair, flailing away once more. We start rolling across the rug in another catball. We exchange the top position three or four times before I get enough of my wits back to actually use some semblance of strategy. When I am able to plant the older woman on her back, instead of wailing away on her face, I grab wrist and pin her hand to the ground. I crawl up her body and mount her belly.
Heather pulls me in tight by the hair and tries to roll me again but I slide my legs into a grapevine lock and am able to ride her out as she tries to buck and twist. For the first time she is the one using all of her energy and stamina to try and escape.
Our sweaty bodies are writhing chest to chest and belly to belly, locked together by our entwined legs and fingers gripping each other's hair. Our feverish pace has slowed as we both run out of gas. I keep her pinned and add as much pressure as I can by trying to slam her head- or at least to grind her head into the rug.
My grapevine hold isn't in deep enough to inflict any pain but it does keep her from being able to use her legs to roll me off of her. Heather is fading, but still fighting. I have her pinned but that won't win this fight and we both know it.
Not wanting to lose my advantage but wanting to end this, I take a gamble. I let go of her hair and wrap my arms around her head and neck like a sleeper hold from the front. I can't choke her out, but I slip my hand over her mouth and nose in a smother.
The effect is quick, I feel the brunette panic when her air is cut off. She yanks my hair hard forcing me to scream but I'm locked I'm locked on her. Next I feel her fist, frantically smash into my ribs over and over. I smile through the pain, noticing that every punch is weaker than the last. Then the punches stop. I hear her hand flop on to the rug. Followed by her other hand's grip slipping down my hair. I lift my hand off of her face just enough to let her breathe. "Fuckin... say... it..." I hoarsely grunt out.
"I give... I give... please... stop.." Heather pants out in a rush, trying to gulp in air simultaneously. Her body going limp in a final act of submission. My body doing the same moments after. Both of us are completely exhausted and I lie on top of my defeated rival for several seconds before sliding off of her and on to my back next to her. I'm not sure how long we simply lie there gulping in air.
Finally, I sit up on my ass, arms draped over my knees, I continue to recuperate from the taxing battle. My eyes watching the conquered woman as she covers her face and tries to stifle her tears. Eventually turning her head away from me.
Once my breathing has returned to normal, I start to stand and realize that my adrenaline is completely gone. My body is already stiff and sore. I'm definitely going to feel this tomorrow. I roll some of the stiffness out of my neck and look to make sure I'm facing a camera before I plant my foot between Heather's large tits.
I press down until the woman groans and turns her face to mine. She knows she owes me this. Her eyes, red from crying, lock with mine. I see the look of submission in them but can tell she isn't broken. She knows I'm better today but she will want revenge.
I don't say anything but continue to stare down at her until I feel her wriggle. I finally lift my foot off or her chest and stand over her as she finishes removing her panties. The dark haired woman gets to her knees and, with her head down, presents her black thong to me. I take them from her, a slight smirk curling my lips. I know this woman doesn't lose often and can practically feel her disgust at losing to me today. I'm sure that probably has more to do with Judge Reynolds than me, but maybe not.
Limping noticeably, I make my way back to the front door where this whole thing started. The hallway is littered with the evidence of the ferocity of my fight with Heather. I find my bag and dig out some fresh clothing. I retrieve my sandals and wander back into the family room. Heather is sitting up with her head buried in her hands.
I get the rest of my clothes then look at the older woman. "Mrs. Katz... I'm gonna need a copy of the video." Heather nods, struggles to her feet, then makes her way to the bar and gets her phone. I watch her as she fiddles with the device, presumably fetching the video from her home system.
"..type your email in Mrs. Rose...please.." She says handing me her phone. I type it in and hand her phone back to her.
"Thanks." I say before turning to leave. Our post match conversation has been completely businesslike and our tone very 'matter of fact'. Then, I pause and turn back, my curiosity getting the better of me. "Can I ask ya something, Heather?"
The woman looks at me skeptically before answering in an unsure voice. "Umm...Sure.. go ahead."
"What was your crime?" I ask, making air quotations around the word 'crime'.
The curly haired woman looks at me, her face softening for the first time since we met. "Sweetie, I've committed a lot of crimes.... but I'm not serving a sentence like you are, Kelli."
Confused, I start to ask another question. "Then... why did we-"
"Fight?" Heather cuts me off. "Why did you and I fight today if I'm not serving some ridiculous sentence from the equally ridiculous Catpin Court? That's what you want to know, isn't it?"
"Exactly." I respond.
"Kelli... you're the first opponent that Becky has sent me that has ever asked that." Heather motions towards the couch and I follow her then take a seat.
"A long time ago, before she was Judge Rebecca Reynolds, Becky and I were college roommates. Then law school roommates. And finally after she introduced me to her brother, sisters in law." I was not expecting this kind of history between the two.
The still naked woman continues. "We both picked up our catpins not too long after that. We fought side by side for years. Eventually, we had to know... makes sense right?"
I nod, knowing what she means. "And things were never the same after you two fought, huh?"
"True, things weren't the same but it's not like you're thinking. We loved fighting each other- we did it once a year. Like a ritual. The problem arose after some ... uh business dealings my husband, her brother, and I had. To make a long story short. You see, Mrs. Rose, a Judge and felon can't exactly 'fraternize'. So, until Becky retires in a few more years- and it's not like she is going to go on to any higher court with a brother in federal prison, we have to do it like this."
"Like this?" I say, wondering just exactly what she means.
"As in, Becky uses her position in the Catpin Court to send me opponents that she thinks are similar enough to maintain our little rivalry." Heather actually allows a smile for the first time today. "And... other than that fucking amazon she sent me after I destroyed the first woman that came knocking, you're the first one to get the better of me....bitch." She chuckles as she insults me in a show of respect.
This time I'm the one that smiles. She continues. "During the heat of our fight my mind didn't really think about it, but now that it's over, it felt good to face someone that fought like Becky and I used to... Usually, the anger and rage still remains after a fight like that. You're different. You're like Becky in that way. I missed that."
I look into her eyes and give her a look that lets her know that I understand completely. It's something that is almost impossible to explain but I get it. Sure, there are some rivals, like Jolene, where we fight because we hate each other. And there are others where the hate happens because of the fight. Then, there are a few where the hate burns out of control during the fight, but that's where it ends. The scary part is that you usually don't know how it's going to play out until you and the other woman actually fight.
Heather gingerly slips her leggings and bra back on to walk me to the door. She chuckles as she looks at the damage we did to her home during our fight. She seems almost proud of it. She opens the ornate door and I step through it. "Kelli.. tell Judge Reynolds thanks for this...and, who knows, maybe in a year or so, it will be you losing your panties... goodbye Mrs. Rose. I hope to see you again one day."
Before I make my trip across town to go home, I take a screenshot from the video Heather sent me of the end of the fight with me striking a victory pose over the dark haired woman. I send the pic to Rebecca along with the message "Heather says thanks".
