[bcw8]

For those unfamiliar with the famous feud, or for whom my attempt at the vernacular may fail, I apologize.


I grew up in the town of Cranston, where my Pa ran the lumber yard. Population of 376. We had one traffic light that swung in the wind over Main and Elm and just blinked red, all the time.  This was deep in Appalachia, and out in the hollers, folks scratched out a living like their people had done for generations, some farming, some diggin’ coal, some workin’ whatever for cash when they could get it.  Dirt poor always, but proud as earls. A couple of the oldest families was the Hatfields and the McCoys. You maybe heard of them.

Ev’ry now and then, one of the men would shoot at each other rather’n rabbits, but not so much anymore and never with much verve to it. The famous feud had pretty much run its course; among the men, that is. Now the Hatfield women and the McCoy women - that there was a different story.  That feud never cooled, and that’s why I am here to tell the story.  The women held no stock in guns, though. They sniffed at cold killing from a distance. No sir, their blood ran much hotter’n that.   

In town, we just called it the pen. Four hedge posts sunk in the dirt and three rows of bobwire, strung tight.  Ev’ry five years come midsummer, a Hatfield and a McCoy would climb into the pen and they would fight. Bare fists and bare tits. Whole town there to see it, ‘cept kids.  Only grown-ups, cause these fights - well, they was fuckin’ savage, no two ways about it.  Blood called to blood.  The hate ran deeper’n the mines thereabouts, and those are deep holes in the earth indeed.  In the pen, the two women would fight, until one of them was dead.  Swear to God.

The summer I turned twenty-one, it was Bobbi Hatfield and Lucinda McCoy.   Born and bred to hate each other, Cindy n’ Bobbi got into scraps pretty frequent, but we always broke it up. Save it for the pen, someone would say, and that would be that.

Bobbi and me had been in the same class in school and we got on good, played together as kids and sparked some when we got older.  As teen-agers, more’n once she’d let me touch her tits when we’d had somethin’ to drink. Pretty sure my cock was the first one she sucked, too. Now Cindy McCoy on the other hand, I know I wan’t her first anything. That little ginger firecracker, with her cute button nose  and freckled tits, she was a year younger but she ran with the wild crowd.

Now, could be I’m partial, but I’m here to tell you Bobbi was a beauty.  Like Hollywood beautiful. Her hair was thick and glossy black, and her body made men weak to think of lovin’ her.  She was all hard curves.  Most men was scared of her, to tell the truth.  But I wan’t.  Her’n me never went all the way, cause she started up with Paul Blair, but I fucked her plenty in my daydreams, her long legs wrapped around my waist, her hair acrost her face. 

Cindy, she was more cute n’ sexy, with her freckles and wicked smile, the one tooth just a bit crooked.  She wan’t a slut but she had her share of men, not just me. She had the most perfect ass, and a hard flat belly, and she loved me to suck her pert little nipples.  Like I said, a firecracker.  She got a bobwire tattoo on her bicep - did I tell you that?  Her and me would fuck sometimes and when we did, she’d say what she’d do to Bobbi That Bitch when the time came, and I tell you what, it made her cum like crazy to say it while I put it to her.

Well, on the day, I made sure I was there early.  The pen was twenty feet on a side square and ringside spots went fast.  There wan’t any grass in the pen, just the sun-baked gray dirt.  The wire was new though; the town saw to that, so that the galvanized barbs glinted in the sun.  They would fight at three pm and it was a hot fuckin’ day but no way I was missing the best view I could get.  There were lots of stories being swapped at the wire, mostly about past fights.  Some folks kept score, and claimed the Hatfield women had won more.  Some spoke with near reverence of the fight five years past, when I was too young to go, between Hallie McCoy and Maylynn Hatfield.  I remembered May.  They said the fight went for two hours, which I didn’t believe, and that Hallie had busted both of Maylynn’s tits before she died, which I did believe, because Hallie McCoy was the meanest bitch I ever met.

Cindy come out first, the crowd parting to let her through.  She saw me at the wire and veered over to kiss me, hard, which made the folks cheer, then she slipped through, fairly skippin’ across the hard dirt.  She was barefoot and in a pair of low waisted cut-offs that barely covered her ass.  She stood in the dead center of the pen and peeled off her t-shirt.  A roar went up when her tits were revealed, I tell you what.  High, solid, full girls, made in heaven and perfect for glazing with cum, which I done more than once.  Her nipples were hard and sharp, stiff upright so they cast little shadows on the curves below them.

“Where’s Bobbi?!” she whooped, and threw her shirt to me.  “Come out and fight me, you fuckin’ princess!”

And here she come, already bare chested.  All eyes on her tits as she swung through the wire, barefoot and in cut-offs too.  An old farmer had staked the spot to my left; he was kin to the Hatfields somehow, and I got his glare for that kiss from Cindy.  “She is as purty as Maylynn was,” he said about Bobbi.  “Now that was a damn shame.  I hope to Christ she whips that little McCoy bitch.”  There wan’t much neutrality in our town come midsummer.  I was one of the few genuinely on the fence, so to speak, in my rooting interest.  Bobbi walked out to face Cindy, and she flowed like a panther. 

“I’m here, cxnt,” she said. 

Cindy grinned, and pulled her hair back into a ponytail.  Her tits bobbed as she did it, and I for one knew she did it mostly to draw eyes back to herself.

“Whole town here to see you die, princess,” she said.

Bobbi clenched her fists.  “I’ve pictured today so many times,” she said. “You know my favorite part, Cindy?  Your eyes.  The moment where the cockiness goes out of your eyes, and the fear rolls in.  Then the part where you beg me, stop, no more, and I just keep on hittin’ you, until the light leaves your eyes for good.”

Cindy’s face was hooded and cold now.  Her smile was gone and hate hung on her the way the fog hung on the hills early morning.  I felt sweat run down my spine.  My cock ached in my jeans, hard as steel.

“We both have our picture, I reckon,” she said to Bobbi, and raised her fists.  “So let’s fight, bitch.”

[maturecatfan]

oh wow, rock hard reading that

[Dude64]

You are so talented! I love your style

[Rocko23]

Wonderful beginning. Please. please let Bobbi win!

[bcw8]

I seen a lot a fights, even been in my share. I’m here to tell you I never seen anything like those two girls, before or since.

Bobbi went at Cindy like a fuckin’ buzzsaw, a goddam off-the-rails runaway train. She backhanded the redhead right across her mouth, like to took her head off, the way it snapped around. First punch, first blood, cause she busted open Cindy’s lip like a overripe tomata’ll split.  Cindy staggered bad, and Bobbi jist fuckin’ swarmed her, puttin’ her hard little fists into her left right left face body face.  She drove her across the dirt, the crowd screamin’ but even so where I stood I heard ev’ry punch land.  She was hittin’ her fuckin’ hard.  It wan’t no game, I’m here to tell you.



And in those fights, there’s the other woman, and then there’s the wire.  Both gonna hurt you bad.  Bobbi beat Cindy into the wire, them barbs cuttin’ into her.  Cindy twisted, tryin’ to get the fuck away, not run mind you jist make some space, and Bobbi pounded her, fuckin’ hammered her.  She beat her in the back.  I’m tellin’ you, it was like slow-mo in my mind - fists into Cindy’s spine and her big muscles alongside it, makin’ her fine tits jump on her chest, creasin’ her purty face into a mask of agony.

When she twisted, the punches drove her tits and belly into the wire.  Cindy screamed when it caught.  This was jist the start, too.  Digs and cuts.  When their hate curdled into rage, soon enough now, then they used that fuckin’ wire.  Now beatin’ her back like that hurt Cindy plenty but Bobbi wanted more.  She wanted face to face.  She wanted to spoil Cindy’s looks and break her body.  She wanted to see her eyes, like she said.  So she whipped the McCoy girl around and put her back on the wire.



Cindy fired up off that wire like a bat outta hell.  She put her fist deep into Bobbi’s hard belly, folded her in half like a cheap suitcase.  It sounded like an axe in young wood.  Bobbi’s hair was in her face, like my daydreams.  Cindy hit her again, and then again, low in her guts.  Beside her tits, hittin’ a girl in her womb I always figured hurt like nuthin’ else.  Bobbi was hurt, for sure.  She went to one knee in the dirt and she kinda half-sobbed, half-groaned.  Cindy hit her in the face, once, twice, then she went behind and locked her arms acrost Bobbi’s throat.



Now it were a normal fight, she might jista choked her out, then and there and be done with it.  But know, these girls been taught to hate.  No one there din’t know that Cindy was gonna put Bobbi on the wire.  Tits-first.  And right in front of me.  I said before Bobbi moved like a panther?  Now she screamed like one, a sound that would ice your blood in daylight and make you piss your pants if you heard it in the dark.  Souls in hell scream like that, the preacher would say come the revival meetin’.  The wire itself sank deep into Bobbi’s titflesh, like a knife edge slicin’ in, and on one side, dead-square acrost her hard little nipple.  The barbs done their work too.  Like I say, they was right there.  I could smell Bobbi’s blood.  I could hear Cindy, pantin’ for breath but spendin’ what she had in Bobbi’s ear, tellin’ her what she’d do to her tits b’fore she was done.



The old farmer next to me couldn’t stand it.  He burst out, shoutin’ at them.  “C’mon, Bobbi, git her back!” he hollered and while I know it din’t matter that was when Bobbi broke loose, like to broke Cindy’s arm doin’ it.  And now she had Cindy on the wire.  Bobbi beat her in the face.  Cindy’s ginger hair come loose, that ponytail come apart, and it whipped in the air like a swirl a’ smoke.  Her lip was already cut, I told you that, and now Bobbi pulped it.  She blew Cindy’s head left, then right.  You kin cut someone with jist your knuckles when you hit them hard and Bobbi was.  Blood spattered in the dirt around them like rain. 



Bobbi flung Cindy out to the center by that loose hair.  She kicked her, Cindy on her hands and knees, in her ribs and belly and tits.  I reckon she wisht she had boots on, but even barefoot she was fuckin’ Cindy up, from the hurt-bad cries she was beatin’ from her.  Bobbi kicked Cindy, and cracked her ribs, and laughed as the redhead screamed.  She stopped laughing when Cindy raised up though, and drove her forearm into her knee.   Bobbi’s leg bent like no leg should bend.  She landed on her back in the dirt without breaking her own fall in any way.

Cracked ribs or no, Cindy seized her chance.  Maybe I ain’t said it outright, but I know I been hintin’ at it, she was a little powerhouse, a bundle a’ muscle.  She snapped her legs around Bobbi’s middle n’ she squeezed.  She aimed to crush her, that was clear - to rupture whatever she could inside her, between her legs.  Jaws of death, not jaws of life.  And the way Bobbi’s went rigid, tears spillin’ down her cheeks, it looked like Cindy might do it.

Then Bobbi sank her claw into Cindy’s tit.  She was tryin’ to rip her nipple off.  It din’t break Cindy’s scissors but it made her let up jist a notch.  Bobbi’s tits was right there, though, and there wan’t a damn thing she could do to protect ‘em.  Cindy sank her claw in too, an eagle gettin’ a killin’ grip in prey.  Both screamed, and screamed, and screamed.



Time really had no meaning there, it seemed.  Like Jehovah stopped the sun in the sky so’s Joshua could take the city of Gibeon, makin’ plenty of time to git the slayin’ done.  Maybe I shoun’ta brought up the Israelites and the Amorites; like I said I din’t have a favorite here n’ we all know that God does have favorites, though the more I think on it the more I jist think He favors slayin’ generally.   Let that rabbit go, no point n’ chasin’ it now.  There was a Hatfield n’ a McCoy in the pen n’ it was shapin’ up to be biblical, for sure.

[Rocko23]

Brilliant action so far! Love how bloody and brutal it is. More! More!

[bcw8]

Cindy done her best to crush Bobbi, for sure.  But Bobbi was hard.  All the hill folk were hard but she was harder’n most.  Don’t let me tellin’ you she had movie-star looks fool ya.  She could take pain, I’m here to tell you now.  So could Cindy, but not what Bobbi done to her pert little nipple.  No woman could take that.  Cindy’s scissors come apart. 

They grappled in the dirt, wrapped n’ twisted together.  One on top and then t’other.  Chokin’, clawin’ - belly to belly like lovers almost, sweaty and bloody and filthy.  Sexier than fuck.  More’n one man cum in his pants watchin’, more’n one woman soaked through her panties.  They rolled and bit and screamed, n’ Bobbi ended up on top and she went back rough at Cindy’s damaged nipple.  She beat her hard, in the dirt.  Cindy sobbed, couldn’t git her breath.



Then Bobbi was up and drug her, by her hair, to a corner of the pen.  She hung her there, like a fuckin’ scarecrow in a field.  Cindy’s cut-offs had popped open, so they sagged a little on her hips, that little bit more skin showin’, hotter n’ fuck to me at least.  Bobbi beat her tits, or tit I should say, ‘cause she jist hit her in one, her right one, over n’ over n’ over.  The old farmer next to me grunted his approval.  “What that Hallie bitch did to poor MayLynn,” he said.  “Pay it forward to this fuckin’ McCoy, that’s the ticket, goddam right.”



Pay it, Bobbi did.  Well, first, I should say, she ripped off Cindy’s little shorts.  People cheered that.  Then she kicked off her own, n’ people cheered that too.  Both of ‘em now in just their little panties.  Then Bobbi went to work.  She near come off her feet with each punch, her little fist fairly explodin’ into Cindy’s chest.  Cindy jerked n’ jittered, her back ‘ginst that hedge post so that ev’ry hit had nowhere to go but through her tit and ribcage.  Her head lolled back, her ginger hair dangling.  Where I stood, I could see the tears on her cheeks.  I coun’t see her eyes but I thought on what Bobbi had said to her when they faced off, ‘bout fear in her eyes.



I reckon Bobbi hit Cindy what, nine, ten times?  Same fuckin’ spot.  Whether she was thinkin’ on MayLynn or not, she was sure-fire bent on bustin’ Cindy’s tit.  She only quit ‘cause she was wearin’ down herself, arm-weary n’ her hurt knee and fuck, the beatin’ she’d took herself.  Cindy hung there when Bobbi stepped back, then slid down, knees then hands n’ knees.  Her tits was a fuckin’ mess, one with a nipple ripped n’ the other beat into a swoll-up bag a’ broken glass.  She hugged ‘em and sobbed, her belly heavin’, her head down, hair draggin’ in the dirt.



A sound went through the crowd, a sorta sigh.  Lotta folks thought it was over.  Thought Bobbi would finish Cindy up quick now.  Lotta folks were dead wrong ‘bout that.

[Rocko23]

Brilliant! Hope that now there's more pussy attacks- how Cindy gets back in the fight. But hope even if there is more damage done- that Bobbi wins in the end!

[bcw8]

Funny now that I said that part about the sun standing still for a fight, ‘cause the sun was gone.   Thunderheads rolled in over the west hills, sudden-like, or maybe jist nobody noticed a storm comin’ as the two girls fought their bloody fight.  Coun’t no one not notice the lightnin’ now.  A bolt like a vengeful God with the thunder crash so clost behind it was like one sign of almighty rage.  Even Bobbi started, n’ that’s when Cindy screamed like a second sign n’ drove her fist up into Bobbi’s pussy.

That punch.  Lord.  Bobbi’s back was to me and I seen her sweet ass in her little black panties jerk like lightnin’ hit her.  Recall when I said that Cindy would say while we’d fuck what she’d do to Bobbi?  She’d tell me how she’d beat that Hatfield bitch’s pussy so bad that ev’ry cock that’d ever filled it would shrivel up.  I snuck a look at Paul Blair ‘n he sure enough felt it.  Bobbi fell to her knees next to Cindy n’ the lighnin’ crashed agin as Cindy pounded her there agin.  I could see Cindy’s eyes now and it wan’t fear I saw. But what was it?  Not even ‘hate’ described it, that’s for damn sure.

Then the wind come up n’ the first drops fell.  I seen one spatter on Cindy’s back n’other on Bobbi’s tits as Cindy put her on her back n’ hammered her fist home agin, the muscles in her shoulder n’ arm corded up.  Her knuckles was square in th’ little triangle of cloth ’tween Bobbi’s spread-out legs.  Another big drop landed on Bobbi’s face as she screamed, a splash in her tears.

Then th’ heavens opened up.  No one moved.  Hot rain come down in sheets but we was frozen in place.  Cindy dug both hands inta Bobbi’s tits n’locked her arms out. Puttin’ all her weight on it, n’ slammed her knee into Bobbi’s pussy.  How Bobbi spasmed, it was clear th’ fists was nuthin’ compared to that.  Once when we fucked Cindy moaned out that she’d bust Bobbi’s pelvis and she sure as fuck was tryin’.  Lightnin’, thunder, knee.  They was both screamin’ at first n’ then Bobbi stopped but Cindy still screamed and rammed her knee in agin n’ agin.



The rain washed them.  Dirt n’ blood ran off their bodies.  Cindy’s ginger hair went dark, stuck to her face n’ back n’ chest.  Bobbi’s head was th’own back in agony, her throat exposed, so’s her hair was fanned out and blendin’ inta the mud that the downpour was turnin’ the’ hard-brick dirt to.  Then Cindy’s arms gave way and she collapsed down onta Bobbi, chest t’ chest and belly t’ belly. 

The old farmer spoke n’ he surprised me cause what he said was my thoughts too and somethin’ I never expected from one like him.  “Like lovers,” he said to hisself, not to me.  He was embarrassed that I looked at him.  He tugged his hat down over his eyes actin’ like he done it causa the rain.

Like lovers.  They lay together with rain pourin’ off them.  I could see Cindy’s lips movin’ but her words was lost; I wan’t sure if Bobbi was even conscious to hear what Cindy was sayin’ to her.  Then Cindy pushed up agin with her arms n’ for a second she looked like she was thrustin’ inta Bobbi, her rain-wet ass jigglin as she ground her pussy aginst Bobbi’s.  Then she pushed her way all the way up, took two twisted handfuls of Bobbi’s drippin’ hair, n’ started at draggin’ her to the wire.

She got her there and she put her up, tits on the wire, and then she pulled her down it to a corner.  Ev’ry barb along the way had its bite at Bobbi and yes, she was conscious cause she screamed agin now ev’ry time. The undersides of her tits were ripped all to hell, blood runnin’ down her stummick with the rain. Her face was cut up good too. Cindy got her to the corner n’ banged her head on the post a coupla times but it wan’t Bobbi’s she burned to hurt. Her tits was still on the wire n’ Cindy used it like a knife. I’d thought on God stoppin’ the sun n’ this storm was for sure His, but it was Cindy now that really made me b’lieve in Hell.





She ripped off Bobbi’s panties n’ left ‘em on the wire while she bent her back’ards over the top strand. I don’t know if she’d fully evened up the score on Bobbi’s tits giv’n how the Hatfield girl had busted hers, but she had cut her bad n’ now she aimed to bust her pussy more. Bobbi’s bare ass was on th’ bottom wire when Cindy kicked her legs spread. This time I seen it from the front. She rammed her fist dead on into Bobbi’s split pussy. She done it over n’ over with Bobbi hung, her head th’own way back.



A huge lightnin’ bolt crashed. Was it Him cheerin’ Cindy on, or cursin’ us all for this, this blood feud?  I ain’t superstitious n’ not partic’ly religious, but surely it was a sign of some kind. Cindy, I kin tell you, dint give a fuck. She was killin’ Bobbi while we watched. So I thought, anyways.

[Rocko23]

Brilliant-  now really need Bobbi to fuck up Cindy's pussy!

[deity17313]

Wonder if bobbi will kill Cindy to even up the score

[DoubleT2]

Simply the most talented writer/artist on catfighting! Wow!

[bcw8]

Cindy drug Bobbi in the mud out to th’ center of th’ pen then went back to git her ripped-off panties from where they hung on the wire. She was terrible, and beautiful, both at once. The rain had washed her clean of blood. Her bruises shone on her skin, storm over.



She went back to Bobbi, who wan’t movin’, and stood over her, holdin’ her panties. Then she looked at the sky where the dark clouds moved away. Th’ sun was there, maybe comin’ out. Then she looked down at Bobbi agin and she raised her foot and she stomped her. I seen a bull trample a man once and that animal had more human in it than did Cindy by now, there in the bobwire pen in a fuckin’ death fight.

She stomped Bobbi over n’ over, into the mud. Bobbi’s body jerked under it but I ain’t sure she was really there. She wasn’t dead, nor even unconscious, but the beatin’ had left her . . absent. Cindy stomped her belly and tits, mostly belly. Ev’ry one made a slaughterhouse sound.



But she’d gone n’ got those panties for a reason. There wan’t much to them even fresh n’ now they was ripped. But they went around Bobbi’s neck just fine. Cindy lifted her head n’ shoulders as she twisted them tight. So fuckin’ tight. Bobbi’s mouth was open but to no use. I watched her red lips fade to blue.



But Cindy. It wan’t enough for her. She dragged Bobbi on up, turnin’ as she did n’ with that black noose she bent Bobbi’s back over hers n’ lifted her. When Bobbi’s toes left the ground, the old farmer spoke once agin but I ain’t sure what he said. Bobbi’s face was turned up to the sun when it come out.  Her dangling body was all shadows and pain now



Still not enough for Cindy. Not intimate enough. Not vengeance enough for her own busted tit. She dropped Bobbi back down n’ used her arm to choke her now, her knee dug into her back.  She was displayin’ her.  Showin’ the whole town.  Showin’ she was the one.  She done worse to Bobbi’s tits than Bobbi done to hers, lettin’ her breathe jist enough while she done it.



The old man, he spit on the ground and turned away. It was over.

Cindy choked Bobbi by her neck til she was dead.



The crowd drifted away, slow.  Coupla Hatfields came for Bobbi.  Cindy stayed on her knees a long time, head down, like prayer in church.  When you hate someone your whole life, what do you do when she’s gone?  She fin’ly looked up.  I was waiting for her.  “You won, Lucinda,” I said.  Nuthin’ else to say.

Cindy n’ me are married now, n’ she’s pregnant.  It’s a girl, they tell us.

[DoubleT2]

Best death fight ever!

[lydia35]

A true 5 out of 5