[Kayla]

This story is a repost of another one that got lost with the crash of this Board. It follows on the recently reposted story “The Training Room Incident: Bridget vs Kayla” at http://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?PHPSESSID=d0afa427a8215a73af16d70d41a2b61d&topic=9525.0

If not read already, it is advised to first read the above for background to the story below to perhaps enjoy more? LOL! 

Hope you enjoy & as always any comments are greatly appreciated! 

Hugs
Kayla
P.S. The next repost will be “The Wizard of Oz” by Marie B.

***

REVENGE FIGHT: BRIDGET vs HEATHER
 
by Janet K Brown assisted by Kayla
 
Assistant Commissioner Bill was sitting in his rather small and scruffy office, behind the untidy desk, leaning back in his executive fake leather chair, naked from the waist down.  Kneeling on the floor between his thighs, his girlfriend Kirsten sucked eagerly on his bloated penis as if it were the only ice cream left in the middle of a heat wave.  “You heard about Heather strapping Bridget naked to an exercise machine in the training rooms, I take it?” he asked Kirsten between little gasps and whimpers of pleasure.  Unable to speak, the young girl could only nod her head slightly. 

Bill giggled slightly then added, “The Welsh witch was pretty sore by the time they got that vibrator out of her!  She’s been spitting blood ever since…”  Again, Kirsten nodded briefly.  “I think it’s about time I got the pair of them into the ring … it’d make a great grudge match, don’t you think? … I thought you’d agree, pet.  Set it up with our standard ring … both weapons and interference to be allowed … yeah, promise both sluts a real good wage and then let them tear strips off each other … hey, you really give good head, baby!  Keep it going … make me cum for you …and remember to swallow every drop…”
 
**
 
Shortly before the match, Heather was in her changing room talking with Kayla who, being ‘off duty’, was wearing a pair of black denim jeans, black fashion boots and a cut-off white t-shirt that left her stomach bare and showed off her diamond belly stud.  The air in the room was rife with tension and it was clear that the two lovers had been having an argument for some time already.  “What do you mean, you won’t be ringside with me tonight?” Heather was demanding to know.
 
“It’s complicated, honey…” sighed Kayla as she tried to explain.  “I’m still not sure just how I feel about you after what you did … I feel you sort of betrayed me … I told you to let Bridget go … I wanted to keep my word to her … to improve my image … and you, you totally ignored me…”
 
“I did it for your own good, Kayla!” the fighter protested.  “Listen, we’re the biggest and baddest pair of heels in the League … it’s our trademark like … it’s what makes us the biggest draws here and it means that we’re the two best paid fighters on the roster.  You start getting all goody-goody and where does that leave us?  Answer me that!”
 
“It leaves me satisfied, that’s what!” snapped an increasingly angry Kayla.  “I don’t want to be the champion heel any more, don’t you understand?  I want to win because I’m technically the best fighter about … I want to win using skill and speed, not because I’m willing to hit people with crowbars!”
 
Hands on hips, Heather stared at her friend in disbelief.  Finally she shook her head sadly.  “If you won’t support me,” she finally said sadly, “maybe we’re reached the end of the road.  Maybe I should myself find a new tag partner?”
 
“Maybe you should!” retorted Kayla as she marched towards the door.  “I was thinking about asking Bridget to set up a new team with me anyway and I guess what you’ve just said has made my mind up for me!”  Stalking out of the room, Kayla slammed the door behind her…
 
Picking up a bottle of Perrier water, Heather flung it at the door where it smashed into a thousand pieces with a satisfying cacophony of noise and spray of liquid.  “Go fuck yourself, bitch!” she screamed before throwing herself into a chair, resting her head on her folded arms and starting to cry…
 
**
 
Sticking with drummer Cozy Powell’s brand of infectious rhythms, Bridget Thomas stepped out from behind the curtain to the strains of his ‘The Man in Black’ and stood, hands on hips, drinking in the hatred of the crowd as it poured over her.  Shaking her head, she finally began to move her five foot ten tall, one hundred and fifty seven pounds supremely fit body towards the ring. 

As she had always been before in her appearances in the League, Bri was mostly dressed in black, from her calf length heavy wrestling boots via fishnet tights to her very short, almost for decoration only, pleated skirt and on to her sports bra, the only item she wore in a different colour was her white thong which flashed itself at the crowd with almost calculated impudence with each move she made.  Her raven black hair was razor cut and she wore no make-up or visible jewellery.  Climbing up onto the ring’s apron, she vaulted lightly over the top rope then started to prowl the small, square stage like a tigress, showering the crowd with insults and offensive gestures…
 
As five foot five foot tall, one hundred and twenty five pounds in weight Heather appeared at the head of the walkway, the boos and catcalls, if anything, increased in volume though it was hard to tell over the blaring loudspeakers as they churned out ‘Wild Thing’, the sixties hit for British group, The Troggs.  With the spotlights following her, showing off her red dominatrix outfit with its leather thong and bra, high heeled boots and mask, Heather left the designated route to the ring and, instead, circled round behind the audience to the small control desk behind which sat two men, one operating the sound system, the other the lights. 

With her back to the audience, Heather slowly lifted her top before flaunting her now bare 36C breasts at the lighting engineer.  Eyes wide, licking his suddenly dry lips, the man stared fascinated at the sight … and the audience wished, to a man, that Heather was facing the other way!  Leaning forward, Heather conversed with the engineer, even allowing him a brief fondle of her assets.  Finally the man nodded, clearly agreeing to something … Heather then straighten up and pulled her top back into place again before turning, finally raising her arms as she acknowledged the crowd.  Skipping lightly down the walkway, she entered the ring and glared at the very puzzled looking Bridget…
 
Standing in their corners and glaring at each other, the two girls awaited the bell … an occurrence so at odds with what normally happened in the Warehouse that it stunned the crowd and almost caught the timekeeper out.  Just about remembering to use his instrument, the man got the match underway…
 
Moving forward slowly, it looked as if the pair were going for a standard lock up until, just before she got into range, Bridget dropped low and, sweeping her right leg round, literally chopped Heather’s feet out from under her.  With a muttered curse, the South African’s cute little bottom hit the canvas but only momentarily as the fit young woman virtually bounced back upright … directly into a fist from Bridget that caught Heather just to the right of her jaw.  Badly rocked by the punch, Heather then fell victim to a snap mare that sent her crashing onto her back.  Grinning, Bridget moved closer, raised her booted right foot before smashing it down once and then twice into the pit of Heather’s belly. 

Furious with herself for her dismal start to the match, Heather reached out and, as the Welsh girl’s boot started to descend for the third time, the South African managed to grab hold of the ankle with both her hands.  “Huh?” gasped a shocked Bridget as she struggled to maintain her balance.  Releasing her right hand but continuing to hold the ankle with her left, Heather thrust her arm up under Bridget’s micro-skirt and locked onto her pussy with a claw.   Screeching in pain, Bridget moved to pull Heather’s hand away but this distracted her from the important business of trying to remain upright and the Springbok now wrenched the leg she still held up, causing Bridget to fall backwards into the ropes…
 
Turning the pussy claw into a lift, Heather soon had her wide eyed opponent up off the canvas, clearly intending to flip the howling woman over the top rope and out of the ring … pulling back her arms, Bridget who wanted none of this plan, painfully boxed her rival’s ears.  Heather released her grip and staggered back, hands clasped to the sides of her head.  Stepping forward, Bridget lifted her right leg high then swung round in a full circle (an action that gave those in the front rows a wonderful view of her white thong and pink buttocks) before she slammed her booted foot into the side of Heather’s head.

[Kayla]

Sent staggering, the South African barely maintained her balance … then promptly lost it as, slamming her other leg into Heather’s flank, Bridget send her opponent crashing to the canvas.  Following Heather down, Bridget soon turned her stunned rival over and put her into a Boston Crab.  The red clad dominatrix screamed in pain, her fists pounding the floor as Bridget piled on the pressure … grinning, the Welsh woman teased and taunted … but then her smile began to fade as Heather slowly, ever so slowly, eased and powered and squirmed her way out of the hold.  Seeing that she’d hurt Heather’s back badly anyway, Bridget spring to her feet then slide out of the ring to grab one of the folding metal chairs from the auditorium…
 
By the time that the black clad woman re-entered the ring, Heather had managed to get to her hands and knees.  Looking down, Bridget changed her mind about her attack and, instead of smashing the chair down onto the inviting target of Heather’s back, she twisted it until it was vertical then rammed it up between the South African’s parted legs, smashing it hard into the minuscule red thong that Heather wore. 

Screaming, knocked forward by the force of the blow, Heather felt her breasts being squashed and compressed against the ring’s rough surface.  Knowing that she was still very vulnerable, she tried to pull herself forward … but being aware of what is about to happen and being able to do something about it are two very different things, a lesson that Heather learned as the chair, now flat again, crashed heavily into the back of her skull...
 
Dropping her weapon, Bridget now rolled Heather over onto her back before dragging the almost helpless woman towards one of the corners.  Placing one leg on each side of the post with Heather’s knees over the edge of the apron, the Welsh girl slide under the ropes and started to move to grab Heather’s ankles from outside the ring.  With a groan, Heather’s fans understood what was about to happen and they started to call out warnings to their favourite.  As Bridget reached for Heather’s right ankle, the South African suddenly pulled her leg back then, with every ounce of strength she had, snapped it forward again, the sole of her boot striking Bridget in the chest and sending her careering back into the crowd control barrier…
 
Unfortunately for Bridget the section she collided with was the barbed wire part and she screamed and jerked as the sharp points penetrated though the material of her outfit and into her skin.  Pulling forward, a look of horror came to her face as she realized that her bra, tights and skirt were hooked onto the barbs, trapping her! 

Looking up she saw that Heather was starting to recover and was beginning to clamber out of the ring … jerking forwards desperately with even more force than before, Bridget pulled herself off the wire but only at the cost of leaving her skirt behind, dangling like a tattered duster on a washing line.  Both women, tired and hurt, now stood on the floor of the warehouse and, simultaneously they grabbed for one of the spare chairs that Bill had so conveniently arranged to be left scattered about. 

Swinging wildly, the two fighters began to duel with their weapons, attacking and blocking like two medieval knights on the jousting field!  The chairs crashed together again and again but, for long moments, the women simply could not break though each other’s guard until, almost by a stroke of luck, the metal of the Welsh woman’s chair made very painful contact with Heather’s knuckles.  Yelping in agony as a bone inside her hand shattered, Heather released her grip and her chair flopped uselessly in just her one hand.  Seeing that her rival could no longer defend herself, Bridget sent her chair on a collision course with Heather’s shoulder, numbing the arm that still held onto the metal of the weapon.  With a clatter, the Springbok’s chair fell to the floor.  Lifting her own chair overhead, Bridget brought it down towards Heather’s skull…
 
Closing her eyes, Heather awaited the inevitable, painful impact … but it never came and, instead, she felt cold metal around her shoulders.  Puzzled, the red costumed lassie opened her eyes to find that Bridget had, very carefully, draped the hollow back of the chair over Heather’s head and was now pressing it down over her torso, pinning the South African’s arms by her sides, the rest of the folded up chair stretching horizontally in front of her.  Trapped, Heather struggled forlornly to escape even as Bridget grabbed hold of the legs of the chair that was imprisoning her rival and began to pull the woman toward the ring…         
   
Once Bridget had her rival leaning forward against the apron, she started to fire punch after punch into the unresisting body from behind, pounding Heather’s kidneys especially hard … some of the crowd cheered but most booed as the black clad brawler slowly reduced Heather to an unresisting wreck.  Thinking that the time was now ripe, Bridget jerked the chair back over Heather’s head before she thrust the woman up and forward, under the ropes and into the ring.

Sliding under herself, she pulled herself to her feet, proudly standing over the fallen, face down Heather, Bridget rested her right boot on the back of the other girl’s neck, holding her in place as she gestured with her arm towards the ASM stood by the side of the ring.  It didn’t take a genius to know what the haughty Welshwoman wanted and the man was soon clambering into the ring carrying Bridget’s favourite strap-on … the one with the long, thick, black dildo attached firmly to the front. 

Looking up and seeing the size of the huge weapon, Heather whimpered and began to struggle again which only caused her more pain as Bridget ground her foot into the South African’s neck until she once more laid still and compliant.  Slipping herself into the strap on and pulling the buckles tight before bending down now that she was prepared, the black attired woman with the almost bare arse grabbed her rival by the hips and pulled then up off the canvas then, taking hold of Heather’s red thong in both hands, she slowly eased the garment down the woman’s legs before slipping the panties over to the ASM.  “I want them in my changing room when I return,” she warned the perspiring young man…
 
Squatting down behind the now very apprehensive Heather, Bridget took hold of the dildo in her right hand while she supported the South African’s hip with her left.  Resting the tip of her weapon against the tight, brown bud of Heather’s rear passage, the Welsh lass sxxxxxxxed, “I’m going to enjoy raping your arse!”
 
“No!  Please … don’t!” begged Heather but to no avail and, with a brutal forward thrust of her body, Bridget forced the device passed the other woman’s resisting sphincter muscle and deep into her body.  Humping the shocked and squirming other woman roughly, Bridget set about keeping her promise…
 
Watching backstage on a monitor, Kayla could take no more of this and, with a muttered curse, she ran out into the arena, her sudden appearance generating a wild surge of cheering from the mob.   As the ring announcer chanted her name, the five foot nine inch, one hundred and forty pound dark brunette with the supremely fit body and pert 36A breasts leapt into the ring pausing only to grab at the announcer’s bell from his table on her way.  Swinging the heavy metal instrument in a wild arc that ended on the back of Bridget’s skull, Kayla rescued the woman who she now realized was not only her tag team partner but also her friend and lover for life…
 
“So, Ding Dong,” Kayla loudly teased the dazed Bridget before adding for the benefit of the microphones, “Enjoying yourself?”  Then, bending and speaking in a whisper that only the Welsh woman could hear, she went on, “Sorry, Bridget … we would’ve made a great team, but I can’t go against Heather; I just love her too much!” 

Reverting to role, Kayla now grabbed hold of the unresisting Bridget by her neck and what little of the strap-on that protruded from between Heather’s cheeks before heaving up and separating the two women with a faint plopping sound.  As Heather rolled over to the ropes and pulled herself painfully upright, Kayla starting to swing Bridget back and forth in a cradle motion before, once she had built up sufficient momentum, letting go.  With a scream, Bridget flew across the ring, face down, before coming in for a heavy landing, the tip of the dildo slamming into contact with the canvas first and driving itself back against her clit with savage force.  Overcome by the pain, Bridget fainted…
 
When the Welsh woman came too, she found that she was laid on her back in the centre of the ring, stripped of all her clothing apart from the strap-on itself and her thong that was trapped underneath.  Bridget soon discovered that she was laying on her arms and since she could not move then, she rapidly came to the conclusion that the must be bound together by the wrists. 

In front of her stood Heather, resplendent in her dominatrix outfit once more, totally in control of the situation while, leaning against the ropes in one of the neutral corners, Kayla watched developments with interest.  Turning, Heather signaled to the lighting engineer who held up his thumb in acknowledgment before flicking a few switches.  To Bridget, laying looking up at the ceiling, it first appeared as if the man had just started to slowly increase the power of the lights but it then began to dawn on her that it wasn’t the bulbs getting brighter but a large part of the rig was being lowered towards the ring.

[Kayla]

Watching the heavy metal frame with it’s dozens of huge lamps getting closer and closer to her, Bridget started to panic, demanding to know what Heather’s intentions were.  “Oh, don’t worry, bitch!  I’ve no plans to crush you under that!  I’ve got a much more entertaining idea in mind…”
 
Less the six foot above her body, the rig jerked to a halt, the bright lights both blinding and cooking the hapless Bridget.  Grabbing a length of rope, Heather bound it securely by one end to the rig itself before, bending, she wrapped the other end around the shaft of the strap-on that the struggling woman under the light still wore.  Signaling to the lighting engineer again, Heather smirked, “Enjoy your flight … and please travel with us again…”
 
With a terrified scream, Bridget’s body started to rise up, pulled skywards by the rig.  Feeling the ring’s surface falling away behind her, the frightened woman began to struggle but, as she did so, the noose of rope around the dildo slipped about an inch up the shaft … suddenly Bridget stopped thrashing about and remained totally still, her terrified eyes fixed on the rope and the strap on that were supporting her.  Hardly daring to breath, she started to quietly whimper…
 
Once the rig returned to its place high above the ring, the powerful electric motors that had hauled it there fell silent.  Operating his controls, the engineer killed the overhead lights and, instead, illuminated the scene from below with a few upturned spotlights.

Suddenly, at Heather’s signal, the rig went into free fall, dropping about a foot before snapping to a halt again.  The resulting jerk caused Bridget’s supporting rope to slide another inch or so up the shaft of the device she wore … and another drop had a similar result.  Heather looked up, watching carefully, a manic grin on her face while, behind her, Kayla observed with a much more worried expression – was her friend going to go too far again? 

A third drop followed and now small damp spots appeared on the canvas of the ring directly under Bridget which caused Heather to howl with laughter as she realised that the woman dangling high above was now so terrified that she’d wet herself! 

Suddenly Kayla was behind Heather, her arm draped over her lover’s shoulders.  “Enough,” she whispered into her friend’s ear.  “You’ve had your fun … push this much further as she’s really going to get hurt, maybe even killed, and I don’t want have to spend the rest of my life visiting you in jail…”
 
“You really care about me?” asked Heather.
 
Kayla smiled, “Of course I do, lover,” she responded before leaning in closer and planting a kiss directly onto Heather’s lips.  Suddenly the pair’s emotional dam broke and, uncaring that the world was watching, their hands started to roam over each other’s young, lustful bodies, lips planting kisses to cheeks, ears, breasts and any other place they could find.  High above, Bridget dangled helplessly as, below her, the lovers renewed their devotion to each other and Heather prepared to enjoy the spoils that, as the victor, were her due…

THE END

[Marie B.]

Heather re-writes the old adage: If you can't beat 'em, use heavy machinery to hang 'em up.