But as tempers cooled and food and drink came out I couldn't shake the vivid memories of that first fight I had watched my mother in...

It was ten years ago and I was 14 and Mum was 34. We had just moved to this pretty mountain town the Winter previously and my Father had a good sales job in the region that saw him away from home many weeks of the year, just returning on Friday nights. My mums name is Maria and I will always remember her as how she was that Summer.

She was a very proud, almost arrogant woman who radiated a feeling that she felt she was better than everyone else, particularly other women. I never realised at the time that she was not always that popular, to me she was my mother and was better than everybody else, to me she was the best and I thought everybody considered her as I do. She was certainly a striking woman back then (her looks have barely faded since), her long red hair unusual for my country and her dark eyes were always holding a challenge to whoever she looked at.

I did not like this new town we had moved to. I had been happy in our old town with my old friends and my old school and couldn't understand why we had moved. I guess I was a bit of a brat about it all. But Maria, my mother, was very protective and smothering of me and always was asking if I was OK and did I like the new house and new town, and I couldn't bring myself to disappoint or upset her. The truth was, much of my unhappiness with the move was caused by the fact that I was being picked on and bullied by another boy in my class, Roberto. I don't even know why he singled me out, there wasn't one incident or anything like that which caused it, just he took an intense dislike to me. He took to calling me names and intimidating me, to stealing stuff from me at school and demanding my dinner money at break time. I guess I'm quite a quiet person and at this new school I just naturally shrank away from confrontation and let all this happen to me. It wasn't a happy time in my life.

I was hiding all this from my parents, or so I thought, looking back I suppose it's stupid to have thought my ultra interested mother would not have noticed my mental and physical state when I got back from school each day. She never let on to me though and it was only one day when Roberto was threatening me in an alleyway on my way home that I discovered that my mother knew all about it. I also discovered in that alleyway what an arousing and vibrant sight it was when she got angry!

Roberto had me pushed right up against the high stone wall and was winding up to deliver a punch to my stomach because I didn't have any sweets that he could take. I screwed my eyes closed and awaited the blow, hoping it wouldn't hurt too much when I heard a wild voice I barely recognised shouting from ten yards away at the entrance to the alley.

"Hey you, you little bastard, leave my boy alone!"

Instinctively, Roberto backed away from me and I stood against the wall in awe as mum charged down the alley to confront him. What a sight she was! It will live with me forever, she wore a flowery print dress and her wild, long red hair flew behind her head like snakes in Medusa's. Her dark eyes flashed with rage as she reached out to grab Roberto's arm and shout and swear at him. She called him all the names under the sun and grabbed his shoulders and shook him, as if that would shake some sense into him. I was immediately gratified to see him after a few seconds of trying to act tough, break down into apologetic tears. She let him go at that, seeing how pathetic he was, with warnings as to what would happen if he were to harm a hair on my head again.

I walked home beside her that day and was in equal parts proud and intimidated by her, I had always known she had a short temper but seeing it unleashed so angrily had taken me aback. Still, little were we to know that she had set in course a series of events that I would remember so vividly over a decade later.

The next day was Thursday and blissfully I never saw Roberto the whole day at school, I didn't know whether he was off or not and didn't care. My Mama had sorted him out and I felt no shame at that. At the end of my best day at school in weeks I walked home with a spring in my step and whistled, that all quickly evaporated as I rounded the corner to face our home.

The sight that greeted me was my mother standing in the doorway of our house and shouting at another woman who was right up in her face, from the fact that Roberto stood further back and egged her on I gleaned that this was his mother, Monica. This woman looked to be around five years younger than Maria and though I felt traitorous to admit she was a good deal sexier. She had long dark hair, dark menacing eyes and a fantastic curvy figure that was capped by an immense bust that was on full display in the tight red dress she was wearing. I guessed that she had tarted herself up to confront my mother (a real case of putting on the war paint) and the effect visually seemed to work as mum seemed dowdy in comparison with her red hair pulled back and wearing a long, floral dress.

The younger woman was right up in mum's face and bawling at her, I couldn't hear all that was shouted but the gist was that Maria was a Bitch and that if she ever touched her precious son again Monica would not be held responsible for her actions. Then Monica leaned forward and prodded mum in the chest with a pointed finger and I could actually see my mother's temper snapping and her losing her cool.

"Whore! Do not threaten me!" screamed Maria and without any further thought slapped Monica hard across the cheek.

By now there was quite the crowd of our neighbours and passer bys and they were all stopped to see what would develop from this confrontation. Maybe mum thought the physical attack would ward the younger woman off but it had the opposite effect and, still smarting from the open hand slap, Monica reached out to grab the top of Maria's dress and rip it towards her while simultaneously slapping Maria back in the face even harder than she had been struck.

Roberto, the scumbag, hung back and encouraged his mother on to more violence.

"That's it Mama, show the old cow who is tougher!" , he shouted from behind the safety of our garden wall.

I, however, crept slightly nearer to get a better view and saw that my mothers dress had been torn right down to her stomach and her black bra was on show to all the watchers. It was an arresting sight to me and I couldn't stop staring at the dark fabric against her lightly tanned skin. But mum was not interested in it and had jumped at Monica and plunged her nails into Monica's long hair. Monica was not slow in reacting similarly and attached her impressive looking finger nails into mums red hair and began tugging equally as hard. From the off it was incredible how intense they both were, it was like they were the only two people who existed on the planet at that time, and I and all the onlookers seemed to sense that we were witnessing something very special indeed. They struggled and tussled at the front door step and it was obvious to me that they were losing their balance and it was no surprise to see them topple over. As neither woman released their double handed hold on the others hair they crashed onto the hard earth of our vegetable garden unobstructed.

It was Monica's back that bore the brunt of the fall, the younger woman landing with mum atop her and the jarring effect dislodged Monica's hands and stunned her a little. Mum seized on that advantage to take a big pull at the dark hair she had trapped in her fingers and I gasped somewhat as I saw faint strands of hair come away in my mothers fingers. She had ripped hair right from Monica's scalp! But she was not content with just that and took the opportunity to slap Monica hard on each cheek and venomously spit at her and call her "Whore" once more.

Pulling herself together (literally with her dress) mum got to her knees and turned her back to her foe, in her mind she had shown this little bitch who is boss and never to insult her or her son again. She thought she had knocked the fight from Monica that easily. She was sorely mistaken. As mum moved away I could see Monica's right foot lash out and part kick, part trip her from behind. Mum went down hard herself this time on her front, making the mistake of trying to preserve her dignity and cover her bra rather than get both hands up to block the impact of the fall. I watched in a mixture of horror and fascination as Monica seemed to spring back to her feet and tower over my downed mother and deliver a vicious kick to her unsuspecting stomach. Monica was wearing black patent leather shoes and the sound of it connecting and mum's pained cry is shattering.

Worse, perhaps, Monica has seen how desperate Maria was not to be so publicly exposed and took her time to casually rip the flowery dress completely from her body, leaving Maria lying on the garden path in her black bra, panties and stockings. Seeing her like that I was aware that I had an erection and did not know whether I was excited at seeing her exposed or at being in a fight, perhaps it was both.

Although neither women were 'proper' fighters they still looked magnificent as they played out their battle before a wrapt audience. Monica tore the fabric of the dress into strips and threw them down at Maria, cursing her with every one. I could see that mum was in some distress but she would not allow tears to flow and kicked out herself at the younger woman. But her kicks were not so accurate as Monica's had been and the brunette, nimbly evaded them before skirting around to the top end of mum and kneeling beside her. With her right hand she held her foes chin and delivered a couple of stinging, insulting slaps. They must have stung as mum yelped and burst into a spurt of action, reaching up and yanked on the black hair that fell over and hooked her legs around Monica's waist and rolled her over. mum swung her palms in retaliation slaps but Monica blocked them desperately with her own forearms.

I risked a seconds glance away from the battle to watch the growing crowd and was surprised to see that no one was making any move to break it up. I guess everyone wanted to see who would win this battle of fiery Latin women. Little did I know that most of our neighbours disliked my mother and were hoping for her to be embarrassed or taken down a peg or too.

Back to the garden and both women were rolling in the dirt and trying to hit the other with little success. I saw that Monica actually managed to fish hook mum by getting her fingers inside her mouth and ripping at her face, mum very clearly snapped her mouth shut and bit on her assailants hand. Monica screamed at this and momentarily forgot her battle to shake her hand and work it off. Mum took the chance to rake her fingernails right down Monica's cheek and I could see the red furrows as they were scratched on the younger woman's face.

Monica screamed like a banshee at the pain etched on her cheek and her bitten hand and I almost punched the air with joy as I watched my mum pay Monica back by wrenching down hard on the top of Monica's red dress and tearing it away from her body, and to my further joy I saw that unlike my mother Monica was not wearing a bra under her dress! As Monica's big, firm breasts burst into sight everyone seemed to stop for a moment, Monica leaned back and looked down at her expensive dress and the fact her breasts were exposed, mum stood back and seemed to realise maybe she had gone too far, and for a moment I though that would be the end of the fight.

I was soon to see how wrong I was, Monica's pretty face looked up to stare at mum and her face transformed into that resembling a wild animal. She just looked savage and let out a howl of rage and flew at mum in a fury. There was no holding back or pulling punches, embarrassed at being exposed and in stinging pain from the scratches to her face she had lost all control and unleashed a flurry of slaps and punches at my mum. Most missed the target and as mum wrapped her hands around Monica's vicious wrists she tried to keep her back, while also trying to kick at her assailant. I watched in amusement as they almost danced around the front of my house, then saw a dark object flying across the garden, it was mums shoe, it had come loose as she kicked out. Then by sheer dumb luck when mum went to put her foot down she trod on a sharp stone and it distracted her enough to allow Monica to free her hands. She wasted no time in connecting with a series of slaps to mums face and as she reeled away Monica very deliberately stamped down with her own heeled leather shoes right on my mums exposed foot. Monica cruelly kept her weight on mums foot and actually screwed the heel in and I winced as I saw extreme pain cross her face. It was as mum reeled away that Monica caught hold of mums bra and hauled it roughly from her body!

Ignoring my concern for her I craned my neck to try and see my mothers exposed tits but was afforded no sign immediately as she managed to cup her hands over them instantly covering them up. But that was a dumb thing to do as Monica leaned back and unleashed a vicious hard right hook, her hand balled into a fist that connected perfectly on the end of mums chin. The blow actually knocked mum off her feet, and as her arms fell away I saw her breasts and watched as she collapsed to the ground. Mum was stunned and hardly moved when she hit the deck, I worried that she had been knocked out but saw that she was shaking her head, at least trying to come around.

At least Monica afforded he some time to recover somewhat. She was obviously very proud of having stripped my mother of her bra and her dignity in front of what seemed the whole neighbourhood, and she turned to acknowledge her audience for the first time and held mums black bra high above her head and twirled the bra in her hand triumphantly before flinging it into the next door garden. She turned back to my struggling mother and shouted down at her.

"You stupid, dumb whore! I will show you! I will make you bow before me !I will show you what a real dominant woman is supposed to be!"

She finished her verbal tirade by physically spitting three times on mums face and once again jamming her shoe into her ribs. The pitiful howl mum gave made me winced and I was sure she had no chance now, she was surely finished. Monica certainly believed so because she hauled mum to her knees by her hair, pulling out some red strands as she went. Her face was twisted in hatred as she pulled her adversary up and held my mothers face up for all the neighbours to see, mums head just lulled feebly in her grasp. She then manoeuvred herself behind mum and gripped mums arms in a double half nelson hold that pinned her arms behind her and thrust out her naked chest. The crowd and me watched agog, unable to tear out eyes away from the action. Still mum's head hung low, unaware of her exposure. Monica called out to her son.

"Roberto, get that vase and take out the flowers, wake this bitch up with the water."

I glowered with hatred as the bastard obeyed her orders to the letter and stepped forward and laughingly tossed the water into the dazed face of my mother. He ran back as she came around, her hair soaking and her mouth spluttering. It took her some moments to realise her position and I've no doubt that Monica was goading her with whispered comments as mum reared up wildly trying to shake herself free. But she was either too weak or to frantic in her efforts and Monica held her arms easily behind her back and showed the entire neighbourhood mums big breasts. Monica screamed out her victory cries.

"You see this bitch, this whore! She insulted me, my family , my son, this is what I do to her, this is what happens.."

I nearly cried out in happiness as the vindictive woman's crowing was cut short . Mum had gathered her wits enough to realise that in holding her arms so tightly behind her back Monica needed to be standing tight in behind her, right behind her in fact, their heads in line perfectly. All mum had done was waited until the voice was closest to her and snapped her head back as sharp and as fast as she could. In some ways she was unlucky, a split second earlier and the back of her head would have smashed into her face full on, surely smashing Monica's nose. As it was it cracked into her chin and I could hear the sound of impact even where I stood. The blow was enough to force Monica to rear back and release her vice like grip on mums arms and she stumbled back holding her mouth, a small trickle already appearing at her bottom lip. Mum stumbled gratefully forward and away from her opponent and when she looked up I saw that Latin fire in her eyes once more and she approached Monica with renewed vigour, her nakedness at once forgotten about.

Monica tried to power herself up to her feet but wasn't quick enough as mum reached her and smashed a punch into her stomach, I swear I could see all the breath explode out of Monica's mouth as the blow hit home.

Mum was on a roll now and swiftly followed that up with another punch that fairly flew into Monica's gut. As her hand came away from the blow she hooked the torn fabric of Monica's red dress and pulled it back even harder, totally removing all of it from her top. Now they were both equally naked and bare chested. Mum must have remembered the indignities Monica had heaped upon her and held nothing back in unleashing a wicked flurry of punches and slaps to Monica's perky breasts. The sound of fist of palm on skin rang out and I couldn't take my eyes off the action, especially now that it seemed mum had the b- under total control. She obviously thought so too as she took a step back and I could tell she was winding up for a big hit, maybe even a knockout blow.

But stepping back was a mistake. Monica must have seen or guessed what was coming and given the space she must have known another big shot might finish her. Just as mum sprang forward Monica raised her foot up vertically and I don't know if it was by accident or perfect aiming but she connected with her leather shoe's tip driving up right into the crotch of mums panties. For one moment I thought that mum could absorb it and keep on coming but she stopped dead, dropped her hands to her injured crotch, her face in a stunned state, then crumpled completely and fell to the ground in a foetal position, crying and wailing while trying to cover up.

Monica was still shaking off mum's latest attack but I, and everyone else knew the fight was effectively over, there could be no way back for the fiery red head this time. And there wasn't. It took the younger woman a few seconds to recover sufficiently to rejoin the action but that was plenty of time as mum was still pretty much incapacitated. Monica gave a rueful smile as she shook off the damage to her tits and stormed over to grab mums ankles in each hand and she looked up to the avid crowd, not appealing to them but crowing to them and in one, foul, vicious stroke lifted her foot and stamped the heel down into mum's cunt. It was such a shocking and vicious move that any lingering doubt as to the result was swiftly lifted, the fact Monica delivered another six blows of similar viciousness was totally unnecessary.

Mums cries were pathetic whines now and she lay at Monica's feet defeated and I am sure I heard amongst the incoherent wails.

"P-Please, please. I give, I surrender, I can't take any more. I surrender. Please no more."

I hung my head hearing my proud mother reduced to this, worse as I scanned the crowd they were all intently listening to her humbling herself I doubted she could ever be so proud and superior ever again. Monica easily reached down and hauled off my mother's panties and threw them aside, there was a tangle of auburn hair between her legs and I knew I should look away but I couldn't bring myself to. Monica laughed and sat upon our large front door step and easily flipped mum into a position over her knees, her ass in position.

"You've been a naughty girl, haven't you? You need to be punished. Need to be taught a lesson that you'll never forget."

And with that proclamation she spanked mum on her ass fifty times. I counted each one and watched as he ass cheeks turned a bright red. I guessed her face cheeks would be too, her pride now all disappeared at being handled and humiliated like this in front of her neighbours. It seemed to go on forever but when eventually Monica had had her fun (and keep in mind her own breasts had been on display the whole time) she dropped my sobbing mother down and pulled her inside our house by her hair. She ordered Roberto to go home, he had seen him avenged and moved off, as did most of the watchers but I needed to know what was going on so I rushed behind our house and sneaked in the back door.

I leapt over our back wall and raced up the back garden, I did not want to miss anything. I let myself in quietly and sneaked through the house until I came to the opening that led into my parents bedroom. I heard Monica's strident voice coming from there and stood outside the room listening and watching events unfold in the large mirror on their wardrobe, which at this angle showed me everything. What I was seeing at that point was Monica sat upon my parents double bed and mum on her hands and knees at her feet, I could see she was still crying , silently. As sad as I was to see her like that I cannot deny that I was also aroused at the sight, especially after she had fought so hard but lost the battle.

Monica spoke as if she were Mistress of the house and my mother nothing more than a hand servant.

"So you thought you could embarrass me did you? Well that didn't work out too well did it whore? I shamed you before all your neighbours. And now you will please me here alone. First I command you to kiss my feet. Go on beg for my forgiveness and mercy! Beg you slut!"

I hoped that mum would leap up and show this cheeky young bitch. That she was playing possum and would take her in hand and defeat her but it was never to be. Instead mum accepted Monica's proffered naked foot (her deadly shoes now discarded on the bedroom floor) into her mouth and as Monica pushed it harder watched in amazement as mum kissed and licked at Monica's toes in complete submission. I guess she had no more left to fight back with and had accepted her fate. Worse followed for mum as this was obviously arousing Monica and before long she had demanded that mother place her head between Monica's legs as she took off the remnants of her dress (she wore no panties!) and ordered her severely.

"Now bring me off you old cow, see if you can at least satisfy me,. You may be useless at fighting but let me see if you are any value sexually."

From the moans and pants that came from Monica as mum's head bobbed in her groin for some time I judged that mum must be skilled in that at least. Monica's final humiliation was to raid my mothers prized wardrobes and to replace her torn dress with one of my mothers favourites and to also take a pair of her expensive shoes. As she gently kicked mum on her hands and knees with the newly put on shoes she spat at mum.

"I think I have earned these whore, eh? After all you ruined my dress so I think I am entitled to yours. You agree? Yes? Good."

Well it wasn't the final humiliation as Monica suddenly whirled around, caught my wrist by the door and dragged me in to stare down at my beaten, degraded mother. She must have seen my reflection in the mirror. She forced me to stand over mum and spat with mockery and disgust for us.

"No wonder your son is such a wimp, with such a pathetic mother to guide him. And look, at his trousers, he is obviously excited at the ease in which I have dominated you. He hard! See!"

At this comment she pointed out the hard ridge in the crotch of my trousers and left us alone laughing hysterically. We looked at each other with tears in all four of our eyes and after that afternoon never mentioned the incident again but it was a long time before my mother ever acted proud in the neighbourhood again.