WARNING: This is a fantasy of extreme nature about violent, brave, lusty people who are willing to personally suffer the consequences or reap the rewards of their actions with out regards to the norms of modern society or the qualms of conscious. Don’t read it if you are not interested in such topics or at all squeamish. Also, make sure you are mature enough to know the difference between illusion and reality. This is not a how to book.

Hard Karma by Mr. Cage

Aarti snuck away from the marriage celebrations. She couldn’t bear watching her dull-eyed fat-hipped sister marry the man she had slept with since her own husband had died. For some reason her beloved husband, Rishi, had crossed the dividing stream and been beaten to death by a Paki man and his brothers. Why had he crossed the dividing line?

Naturally other fights had followed with deaths and injuries on both sides until the need for blood vengeance was sated. These battles occurred every few years as men fought with farm implements, hammers and knives. Nothing was ever settled, but everyone had a story to tell when it came time for vengeance again. And, every woman suffered a loss in her family or nursed a male relative’s wounds.

High in the mountains, isolated from the world accept for a winding treacherous path a single people had been divided by a line on the map. Decades ago soldiers had come and divided the small high plateau calling half Pakistan and half India. They took everybody from one religion and put them on the other side of the stream. When they had left the one people with two religions had become two peoples. The two peoples had slowly become enemies and now they hated one another and the other’s religion. Aarti had never understood why, but she knew she hated the Pakis, thieving murders all.

Aarti was wearing her best but still appropriate clothing, perhaps out of date in modern times, but this was the village. She had on soft, thin, pink silk trousers and a long blouse jacket of padded golden silk decorated with green beads. She unwound the long white and golden scarf from around her brown neck and black hair and let the summer warm mountain breezes blow it in waves behind her mimicking the waves of her long black hair. Her strapped sandals might not have been the best thing for climbing the rocks to the hidden pond that only she and her husband had ever seen, but she made the climb.

The pond and its small garden like paradise existed behind a once solid wall of rock. A fissure in the wall occurred during a mountain shaking quake in her childhood. Rishi, her secret boyfriend, had found it and covered the fissure with branches, and then a false mat stained to the grey-black color of the surrounding rock face. It was their secret place. She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one saw her move the false mat. She slipped inside and pulled the mat back into place. She was alone now in the happiest place on this world. If only he hadn’t crossed the stream.

She unbuttoned her blouse, dipped her hands into the cool water and dabbed water under her arms wondering if she should strip and swim in the water as they had often done. As she knelt her sandals sank into the soft bank. She brushed off a small rock with a flat top, sat down, took of her sandals, washed them and laid them to the side to dry in the sun. Aarti dabbled her feet in the clear blue water and remembered better times.

She heard something at the wall and froze. Someone was fumbling at the mat. She had been discovered! She saw a flash of light green silk. Then the pale green silk scarf pulled free and a pile of long black hair tumbled down the back of a now visible light yellow blouse jacket and blue silk trousers. The woman struggled for a moment and shed her jacket with a curse. She wore bright yellow breast scarf crisscrossing between her overly large breasts, lifting them high and separating them. Who was this invader? With her back to Aarti, the woman pulled the mat back into place.

The woman turned around holding her jacket and scarf in one hand while brushing at a snag that the rocks had made in the cloth. It was Sophia, the ugly cow whose husband had killed Rishi. How did this Paki bitch know about Rishi’s private paradise? The bitch had the same milk pads over her nipples that Aarti had to use. The cow was nursing. Her last child was born six months ago, in fact the day before Rishi’s death. Aarti had given birth to her second daughter the week after her husband’s death. Her mother and his mother had the girls today as she was still young and expected to be a pretty girl at her sister’s wedding. Sophia dropped her blouse and glared.

Aarti stood up and snarled, “What are you doing here? This is my place!”

Sophia looked over her shoulder to make sure no one could hear and replied, “It is Rishi’s place. And, it is more my place than yours. I made two sons here.”

“Paki whore, you are a liar and a slut!”

“Am I? We were lovers before you. We would have been married if not for the fanatics in the villages. Both of my sons are his.”

Aarti pulled her hair in fury and screamed, “Lying cunt!”

“Am I, then why did he sneak across the stream to see his son. You have given him nothing but two worthless daughters. I am his true woman.”

“You got him killed!” Aarti shouted stepping closer her bare sinking in the soft bank.

Sophia shook her head furiously sending her long black hair flying, “No it was you keeping him to long with your complaints about this or that. He said you nagged him to death and in the end you did you dumb cunt. My husband would have never caught him if he had come at the appointed time. It was your fault for keeping him.”

Sophia took two steps forward kicking off her sandals. Aarti was breathing heavy, nostrils flaring. Her heart was pounding.

“Leave here you dirty whore!” the Indian wife yelled.

“No, this is my place now, cow!” replied the Pakistani mistress.

“Go!” Aarti screamed as she shrugged off her blouse and faced the hated bitch in her golden breast scarf barely holding back her heaving her milk heavy globes.

Aarti might not be as tit-large as the other woman, but she was proud of her large orbs, which were relatively firm even when heavy with milk. The two brown women, Sophia just slightly darker, could have been sisters. Sophia was a bit taller with heavier breasts and a slightly softer belly. Sophia might weigh more, but Aarti had a larger ass and heavier arms and thighs even if her belly was flatter. On sight no one knew who was the strongest. Aarti thought back to her three slapping and hair-pulling fights when younger and wished she had been allowed to finish those fights. Sophia stared back at her, just as furious, but also just as hesitant. Aarti doubted her rival had any more experience. Neither made a move. Dark eyes were locked. They stood paces apart with heaving breasts, flaring nipples and sweat forming on their foreheads.

Suddenly Aarti screamed, “Paki whore!”

The Indian wife lunged forward. Neither woman was a fighter. Their roughly painted nails went first to the others’ equally thick and long black hair. They tugged, squealed, jerked, staggered, stumbled, cursed and bounced against each other. Tufts of black hair started to stick to their quickly sweaty brown skin then some larger tufts hit the soft ground. They pulled and pulled. Finally, Sophia staggered and went down to her knees. Aarti shouted in triumph and started to drag the mistress of her knees.

Sophia’s hands went to the loose pink silk trousers. Her fists gathered in the material as she tried to keep her balance. Aarti’s pulling unbalanced the mistress and she finally fell off her knees. Her fists ripped open the front of Aarti’s trousers exposing her thick strong peasant thighs. Aarti yelped and let go of Sophia’s hair, backing away in shock. Sophia pushed up to her hands and knees and then started to rise.

Aarti shouted, “No!”

The Indian charged forward and kicked. Her right foot slammed into Sophia’s bare belly. The mistress grunted and grabbed the foot. Aarti jerked on her foot desperately and fell flat on her ass on the ground. Sophia shouted and lunged forward on her knees grabbing again for Aarti’s trousers for leverage. She caught the waist band just as Aarti’s feet found Sophia’s hips. The Indian pushed off and Sophia actually fell backwards ripping the waist band of Aarti’s trousers and then tearing out the front exposing a very hairy crotch and belly. Aarti scrambled backwards horrified by her exposure and stood up trying to cover her crotch to no avail. Her pink trousers hung now at an angle held up by the outside her right hip and her left waist. She was close to being stripped.

Sophia rolled over and got up facing away from the Indian. Despite her shame, Aarti saw the broad blue silk covered ass up in the air. She rushed forward holding her trousers with on hand and put her dirty foot on Sophia’s ass. She pushed and the mistress hit face first in the high mountain brambles and sturdy wild grasses that surrounded the soft bare soil of the bank around the pond. Sophia squealed as her face was snagged and gouged by the brambles. She rolled over spitting out grass and brushing her face and took Aarti’s foot right in the lower belly. A muddy outline of the Indian’s foot covered the belly of the mistress’ blue trousers. Sophia was knocked back on her elbows.

Aarti tried to stomp again, but Sophia’s defensive kick hit her shins and sent her staggering back to the dirt around the pond. Sophia got up brushing the painful brambles from her face, then her arms, belly and then her back. Both women, unaccustomed to fighting, were sturdy just the same. They paused and sucked in air. Aarti instinctually smoothed her hair as though the fight might be over.

Sophia snarled, “Rishi hated your ugly hairy goat’s cunt!”

Aarti screamed in fury and charged into the woman. Sophia put out her hands, but the Indian crashed into her and drove her back across the brambles into the rough bushes growing against the rocky wall. Both women’s feet were toughened from field work, but the brambles still cut them and pulled at their ankles. The bushes were unforgiving. Sticks and thorns cut their arms, legs and tore through their silken trousers. Sophia hit solid mountain rock with a thud. Aarti’s hands clawed for the woman’s face and missed. The Indian settled for choking the bitch. Sophia’s hands tried to push away and found the Indian’s big tits. She pushed up and the tits came out of the breast scarf, which slide down around Aarti’s waist now that there was nothing to hold up.

Aarti squealed, again reacting to being stripped and retreated foolishly. Sophia struggled to get out of the bushes ripping the back of her blue silk trousers out exposing her ass cheeks, cuts from the thorns and sticks already showing red droplets. Sophia ignored the brambles and rushed across the painful footing and slammed into the Indian driving her backward to fall on her back on the soft bank. Sophia’s charge carried her forward and she fell on top the hated wife. The collision stunned them both for a moment.

Sophia reached for Aarti’s hair and banged the Indian’s head on the soft ground doing little more than getting her hair dirty. Aarti squealed and clawed down the mistress’ back until her fingers were caught in the breast scarf. The Indian immediately decided to take revenge for her own exposure and worked on the loose knot, almost immediately freeing the scarf. Sophia cursed and reflexively reached behind her back to try to keep her top on. Aarti’s hand caught Sophia’s in the awkward near chicken wing and immediately twisted the arm up behind the Pakistani’s back.

Sophia howled and rolled off. If Aarti had know what she was doing she might have broken the other woman’s arm, but instead she let go and climbed on top. Her goal in sight she reach down and ripped off the yellow breast scarf exposing the two overly large milk globes rolling on her husband’s whore’s chest and upper belly. At that moment her eyes fixed on the dark, puffy, wet nipples like a target. Screaming in fury she latched onto both nipples with her strong fingers, wishing her nails were longer and sharper.

Sophia screamed, writhed and kicked her feet. Her nipples were crushed and twisted. She grabbed for the wrists, again an instinctual move with no real useful purpose. Aarti shouted in triumph as she got the left nipple to squirt between her fingers. Sophia moaned and let go of the wrists. Her long strong fingers slammed around the bottom of Aarti’s hanging breasts and dug in. Squeezing the round bottom and twisting it was Aarti’s time to scream and look down at her wet brown nipples as milk squirted from both.

Aarti let go of Sophia’s nipples and repeated the foolish wrist grab. Sophia planned her feet firmly and deeply in the soft bank and pushed up. Aarit gasped and fell forward landing belly first on Sophia’s face. Aarti legs spread and she rode Sophia’s bucking chest and forcibly pulled Sophia’s hands from her throbbing tits. Sophia was having difficulty finding oxygen so she bit the Indian’s belly.

Aarti howled and rolled off, her hands ripping at the Pakistani’s forehead pushing her back. Sophia tried to roll on top, but Aarti scampered backwards kicking wildly. Her dirty foot smashed Sophia’s right boob flat and stopped her pursuit. The other foot smashed into the mistress’ mouth and knocked her on her back. Sophia’s hands grabbed her mouth and her swelling lips leaked blood. Seeing the bright red on her brown fingers the mistress screamed and got to her feet.

Aarti had reached her feet moments before. She charged into the mistress, head down. Sophia grunted as Aarti’s shoulders smashed into her milk heavy tits and flew backwards her feet flailing trying to keep standing. Sophia’s backward stepping feet splashed in the cool water four steps until she couldn’t move fast enough. The Pakistani went down with a big splash. Her hands gripped Aarti’s armpits from above and the Indian splashed down on top of her. The pool was fed from above and exited out a deep fissure somewhere in the center of the pool feeding the stream that reappeared a little further down the mountain. As a result of the formation both women were quickly swimming.

Sophia clawed at Aarti as she came up to breath. Aarti slapped back. Then they kicked each other viciously underwater. Aarti pushed off with her feet leaving her wet trousers to slide to her ankles. She kicked frantically and freed her ankles now wearing only the breast scarf around her brown waist. Sophia tried to follow her, but the woman’s wet pants slowed her down. She grabbed the pink trousers and waved them over her head like a trophy and then threw them away toward the deeper part of the water. Aarti crawled out of the water almost totally nude. Sophia swam at an angle to the other bank so she could climb out of the water safely.

Aarti bunched up her hair, which was heavy with water, and slide her hands down sending a stream of droplets loose. Sophia had worse problems. Her silk blue pants were wet and sticking too her. She looked at Aarti and untied her soggy pants and let them fall to the ground. She stood gleaming in the sunlight, beads of water dotting her pubic hair. Her patch was as thick but not as high on the belly as Aarti. The two stood defiantly and glared, but neither seemed willing to reengage in battle. The high mountain summer sun slowly warmed their skin as both heaved in air.

Aarti was very near where she had been sitting when Sophia entered. She looked down and saw her heavy sandals, leaned over and picked up on of them in her right hand. She smacked it experimentally on the rock and was rewarded with a loud heavy whack. The wife stood straight with her loaded right hand.

“I’ll beat you like a dog you whore.”

Sophia sprinted to where she had kicked off her sandals, armed herself and turned to face the charging wife. The two slammed into each other both missing with their first sandal strikes to the head. The second strikes smacked their backs. They continued smacking away reddening each other’s shoulders. Aarti twisted and drove her knee up into the mistress’ hairy crotch, scoring perfectly. Sophia moaned and cursed. She hugged the Indian and bit deeply into her shoulder. Aarti screamed and jerked back on the Pakistani’s wet black hair with her left. Sophia’s head came back exposing her forehead for Aarti’s heavy sandal. Two hard cracks across the forehead and Sophia relinquished her already bloody shoulder bite and staggered backwards, her forehead showing swelling knots.

Aarti rubbed her shoulder and came away with bloody hands. Furious, she charged swinging her heavy sandal. Sophia ducked. Aarti’s overhead swing came down and smacked the Pakistani mistress on her brown ass. Sophia was driving forward her feet kicking up soft dirt. Aarti staggered backwards trying to raise her weapon, but her feet tripped and down she went with the fighting mistress on top of her again.

Sophia immediately slid her face up Aarti’s heaving belly and fastened her bloody lips to the inside of Aarti’s huge right tit. Aarti howled and kicked her feet throwing dirt over both of them as Sophia’s teeth chewed the inside of her milk globe. Aarti still had her sandal; Sophia had given hers up in the tackle. The Indian brought the heavy sandal down at an awkward angle across the back of the mistress’s head. She hit her a dozen times before the mistress cursed and rolled over to grab the wife’s right wrist. Aarti’s right tit was bleeding badly from the bites. The blood quickly filled the cleavage between her tits and stained her belly.

By turning around to grab the weapon, Sophia had given her back to the Indian. She wrenched on the right arm and pushed it to the ground trying to get back around on the Indian’s squirming body. As the mistress controlled the right hand, the wife’s left reached around and grabbed a Sophia’s swollen left milk globe under the arm before she could rotate back around. With Aarti’s strong brown finger sinking into the globe and gouging, the mistress could roll back over. Sophia endured the gouging until her wet puffy dark brown nipple started to squirt. Once it started it wouldn’t stop. Aarti brutally milked the fat round mammary and Sophia watched as her milk squirted in short arcs to splatter on the dirt or Aarti’s stretched out right arm.

Sophia cursed and banged Aarti’s right hand on the ground. When the bitch wouldn’t let go of the heavy sandal, the mistress used her right hand to wrestle the weapon away as her left held the trapped wrist. All this put additional stress on her left tit. The milking intensified as did the pulsing pain from Aarti’s sunken fingers. Sophia yelled in success as she pulled the sandal out of Aarti’s hand, but now she was lying on her side back to the Indian. Aarti’s left hand let go of the tit and hooked under Sophia’s left arm. The wife’s left hand found Sophia’s throat.

Sophia reacted moving in the wrong direction. The Indian hooked her left leg over and tucked her heel against the mistress’ hairy cunt and rolled the Pakistani on top of her body trapped in a rear choke and leg hold. Lying on top the Indian looking at the sky, Sophia was being choked and arm controlled by Aarti’s left, cunt kicked by the left heel, leg wrapped by the right leg and now the right hand came around and clawed at her face. Sophia had the sandal, but nothing to hit.

Twisting her head side to side, she grabbed the left hand and pulled the fingers from her throat. As she succeeded, the wife brought her left heel down in a back kick from the knee and crushed Sophia’s already sore mound. Her head rose up do to the pain. Aarti’s right arm came around from underneath and went for the full rear choke. Sophia was saved by her chin. It blocked the choke for a few seconds. As Aarti labored to get her arm under her the chin, Sophia suddenly slammed her head back as hard as she could trying to do anything to escape. Crunch! She heard Aarti moan and the restraining arms and legs loosened. The Pakistani mistress rolled off the Indian and scrambled away terrified of the Indian landing on her back.

Sophia skinned her arms and legs on some rocks and stood up expecting an attack. Aarti was just standing up. Her hand was holding her nose. Blood dribbled through her fingers and her sweaty face was streaked with tears. Sophia hooted triumphantly. Aarti glared through her swollen eyes and lowered her bloody hand. Her nose was quite swollen, but still looked straight. Blood quickly stained her chin and tits. Sophia stalked forward.

“Monkey nose!” taunted the mistress.

“I milked you cow!” replied the wife.

Sophia lunged forward swinging a badly made fist for the wife’s swollen nose. She missed and almost fell down. Aarti had planned to punch, but instead grabbed the flying hair and jerked mightily pulling Sophia in a backwards arc. The mistress screeched and stumbled clumsily in a backwards circle to fall hard among the brambles, this time on her bare ass and legs. She put her hands down, getting stuck there too, spread her legs and pushed up quickly just in time to get Aarti’s dirty foot in the cunt.

Sophia howled again and sat down again adding more brambles to her ass, cunt and legs. The Indian stomp kicked and crushed the mistress’ already abused left tit which was still leaking. Her dirty foot pushed the Pakistani flat on her back onto the brambles and crushed the tit. Tit flesh swelled around her toes and sides of her foot. Milk squirted between her dirty toes turning the dirt to milky mud. Sophia screamed in agony bringing an evil smile to Aarti’s bloody lips.

The smile lasted only a second because as the Indian put her weight on the crushed tit trying to grind it flat, Sophia’s dirt feet came up. The right one caught Aarti’s hairy slit while the left got the back of the extended right leg. Aarti lifted up and off. The Indian yelped and ended up landing hard on her ass on the rocks and dirt.

Sophia rolled over and pushed up ignoring the cuts made by the brambles or the thorny balls of pain stuck to her skin. Aarti was pushing up when Sophia slammed into her driving them both back across rocks to the dirt. They hit with a double grunt and rolled across the bank down into the water. The cold water shocked them. Sophia was kicked away and they both scrambled to their feet knee deep in the water.

Sophia dipped down and tried to rub the brambles off her back and ass. Aarti rushed through the water. Sophia had more than enough time to duck and tackle again, but the Indian had been tackled more than once. As soon as Sophia went down, Aarti grabbed her hair with the left hand and started swinging underhand badly made fists up into the mistress’s downward turned face. Aarti wasn’t a boxer, but repeated hits to the face did nothing for Sophia. She struggled in the water trying to free her hair and block the clumsy punches. Aarti planted her feet and jerked forward and down. Sophia suddenly found herself on her knees with her face bobbing in and out of the cold water. Aarti moved to the side and put both hands on the back of Sophia’s head.

Sophia reached up, her hands sliding along Aarti’s wet thighs until she reached the water dripping fur between the Indian’s legs. She grabbed a handful and pulled. Aarti screamed and grabbed for the wrist allowing Sophia to rise up out of the water. Aarti jerked on the wrist stupidly and helped Sophia pull out her own cunt hair! Sophia firmly planted on her knees her tits bobbing on the waters made a fist with her free hand and sank it deep into Aarti’s heaving brown belly. The feeling of her fist penetrating the hated woman’s womanly belly thrilled her.

Aarti moaned and doubled over. Sophia’s push put the Indian woman on her ass in deeper water. Sophia reached for the Indian’s legs to pull her under, but the wife kicked and propelled herself away across the deepest part of the pond. The Indian swam to the far side and got out by the mountain side. A small rocky ledge led back around to the bank. Sophia got out of the water and walked to meet her. Neither woman had ever fought this long, but both knew this had become a fight to the finish, no matter how long it took or what had to be done to win.

Sophia looked down and picked up a hand sized rock with a nice point on it. Aarti saw her and leaned over finding several rocks. With the Pakistani blocking the exit from the tiny ledge the Indian just began throwing rocks. Sophia dodged a couple, but then took a round stone in the small of her back. She turned and started to throw her own rock which she had intended to use to tear off Aarti’s face. A rock smashed into her right eyebrow and she staggered backwards covering her head as the Indian moved along the ledge throwing rock after rock driving the Pakistani back toward the open bank where Aarti’s luckiest throws bounced off with only a little damage. Finally the Indian armed herself with a fist-sized sharp pointed rock and walked toward Sophia as she wiped the blood from right eyebrow out of her eye.

Like cave women they stalked each other barefoot, practically nude with crude stones in the right fists. They swung a couple of strikes, both missing. Then Aarti’s pointed stone ripped a cut along Sophia’s left bicep. The mistress screamed and lunged into the wife swinging her loaded right overhead. Of course the fist missed everything and she almost dropped the rock as her arm hit Aarti’s shoulder. Aarti’s right swung around Sophia’s side and slammed into her lower right back.

Sophia’s legs felt weak for a second and she almost peed on herself from the deep ache inside. She felt a hot wetness on her back and knew she’d been cut. Screaming in fury and pain she curled her stone around and swung it for the back of Aarti’s head. Too late, the Indian’s right foot had hooked behind Sophia’s left ankle and a stiff push put the mistress on her ass in desperate straits. Sophia’s stone cut across Aarti’s shoulders and then bounced just out of her hand as she hit the ground.

Aarti screeched like a demon and fell down on Sophia, one knee in the mistress’ belly the other by her hip. The pointed stone came down and Sophia waited to die, but instead of her face the wife dug the weapon into the fat already much abused left milk globe. Sophia screamed in agony as her tit was literally gashed open, her nipple split. Blood welled out of the gaping wound mixed with dribbling milk and lymph. Aarti shouted in victory and celebrated by dragging the pointed stone back and forth deepening and widening the gash. Aarti’s rock and hand were dripping in tit blood.

Sophia writhed on the ground in agony. Aarti fixated on the bloody breast. Sophia’s fingers dug into the dirt on either side. Her right fingers felt her stone and dug at it trying to grasp it. Her left hand filled with dirt. Aarti dug at the bloody ruin of a nipple determined to finish the destruction of the hated breast. Sophia’s left hand threw dirt in the Indian’s face. As Aarti blinked and rubbed at her eyes with her left hand Sophia’s right hand finished grabbing the weapon and swung it wildly. The point ripped Aarti’s swollen left cheek and the impact knocked the Indian off to the side.

Sophia held her left breast with her left hand and set up. She sobbed in pain and horror at what had been done to her. Aarti was shaking her head and rising up on one elbow. Her face was now a mask of blood. She seemed stunned. Sophia rolled on a hip then to her knees. The agony in her ruined breast almost caused her to fall back on her ass. It slowed her down. Aarti was sitting. Sophia lunged forward trying to bring the point of her rock down on Aarti’s skull. The Indian raised her left arm and blocked the blow perfectly. Sophia had put so much into the swing that she fell into the Indian.

As soon as she fell she let go of her gashed left tit. It splattered against Aarti’s right tit and sent new waves of agony through Sophia. When they rolled over and over cutting and bruising shoulders and backs the tit almost caused her to pass out. Aarti came out on top and smashed her head down on Sophia’s nose. Sophia’s nose spurted and began to swell, matching Aarti’s. Sophia’s rock hit Aarti an almost simultaneously a glancing blow on the crown of her head. Aarti rolled off Sophia and held her skull. With blood matting her hair, Aarti rolled just out of range and sit up not out of the fight yet.

Sophia set up holding her left tit again. The blood and milk caked dirt in the wounds and between Sophia’s fingers. She considered the magnificent ruin and started sobbing again. The two looked at each other. If anything other than pure hate had shone in the other’s eyes the fight might have ended. But when one saw there was no mercy in the other’s eye she resolved to finish the fight.

“You bitch, I’ll cut off your tits!” shouted Sophia as she wobbled to her feet holding her left tit against her chest.

Aarti stood on shaking legs the blood from her scalp wound adding to the ruin of her face and replied, “I already cut open yours.”

The screamed and lunged at each other. Sophia let her wounded tit swing as she knew she had to fight with both hands. They slammed against each other blocking each other’s loaded hands. The impact sent waves of agony from the tit through the mistress, but the wife’s loss of blood and concussion was almost as bad for her. They leaned against each other weakly fighting. Aarti dragged the point of her stone down Sophia’s back gashing her in places. The Pakistani moaned and arched her back involuntarily. Her own weapon was raking up and down Aarti’s ribs trying to get to the swell of her left tit. They pushed and shoved, Sophia’s ruined tit giving her the worst of it.

Aarti again went for the trip. Sophia staggered and grabbed for Aarti’s blood matted hair with her left hand. The mistress hit first and dragged the wife down on top of her, but the pain in Sophia’s tit caused her to raise a knee. Aarti’s mound landed on the shin and her belly took the knee. The Indian grunted but brought her stone down grazing Sophia’s forehead ripping open a finger long gash. Sophia used her knee to lift Aarti just enough that her left nipple swung above the mistress’ mouth.

Aarti was about to bring her stone down on Sophia’s hated face when her left nipple sent waves of fire into her addled brain. She dropped her stone and grabbed Sophia’s head pulling the hair and pushing off. She rolled to the side and fell hard on her right side still pushing Sophia’s head back. Sophia’s teeth dug into her suckling toughed aureole at the base of the nipple and pulled the nipple straight out stretching the round tit into an oblong bag. Milk pumped into her mouth and then the hot taste of blood. She would have taken all of the nipple, but dirty fingers gouged her eyes and Sophia had to roll away spitting off the end.

Aarti ignored her bloody nipple and scrambled for her rock. She was still dizzy, but determined to finish the mistress. Sophia blinked the dirt out of her eyes and pushed up on her hands and knees. Her ruined left tit throbbed and bled into the dirt below her, but the pain was becoming a constant. She managed to get to her knees without screaming, then to her feet. Her knees wobbled a bit, but she was standing.

Aarti stalked forward stone raised high. Sophia tried to raise her left hand to guard her head, but her tit hurt so much she retreated instead. Aarti moved quicker, even if fast was impossible now. Sophia tried to dodge but she slipped to a knee. Aarti was on her immediately. The stone came down as Sophia fell. The stone ripped into the flesh of Sophia’s left shoulder. As Sophia fell to the side her right hand struck wildly around. The stone cut Aarti’s hip and bounced out of the mistress’ hand. As she fell her right hand grabbed and found the breast scarf still knotted around the Indian’s hips.

Aarti was overbalanced. The weight of Sophia falling to her right and dragging on the knotted scarf jerked the Indian off her feet and planted her face first into the water. Sophia pulled up using the scarf and dragged Aarti backwards and to the side. The Indian sputtered and pushed up out of the water. Sophia dangling in the seating position still holding the scarf drove both her feet just as hard as she could into Aarti’s ribs. The wife grunted, the scarf came loose in Sophia’s hand and they both fell in opposite directions.

Aarti rolled onto the opposite side struggling to breathe. Her ribs felt like they were sticking into her lungs. She saw Sophia sitting up, gagging, throwing-up and then rolling onto her hands and knees. Despite the pain in her ribs Aarti pushed up and started crawling toward the water where her ribs might have a chance to stop hurting. Sophia held the scarf as though it was her rock lunged up from her knees and brought her fist down on the back of Aarti’s bloody head. Of course the scarf did no damage, but the impact was enough to knock Aarti face first into the ankle deep water.

Sophia almost passed out as her ruined tit flopped on Aarti’s back. The Indian pressed up below her and spit out water. Sophia’s right hand still held the Indian’s breast scarf. With one leg across Aarti’s back she wrapped the scarf around her enemy’s neck and pulled back on it with both hands. Aarti gasped and bent backwards out of the water. Her hands clawed at the scarf. Sophia could feel the fingers under the scarf. She wasn’t going to be able to choke the bitch to death. Frustrated she slide along Aarti’s wet back and dug her right foot deep in the dirt for balance. She pressed down with her hands forcing Aarti’s face into the water and mud. Aarti’s hands flailed at the shallow water. Her ears were out of the water and then her face. Her wet face just out of the water, Aarti sucked in air.

Sophia slid further up the Indian’s back and jammed her left knee into the back of Aarti’s neck. Aarti’s ears went back under the water. Her blood matted hair floated on the water. Sophia pressed down with her knee and jerked up with the scarf. Now the scarf bit into the neck, but the head did not come out of the water. Aarti’s hands clawed at the mud under the water and her feet dug furrows in the bank. Sophia held on riding the writhing wife. The frantic slapping of the water and digging in the mud did not move the mistress. She put as much weight as she could and imagined Aarti’s nose and mouth full of water and mud while her throat was crushed by the scarf. Blood from her tit still dropped on her thigh and added to the spreading pinkness of the once pristine blue pond.

She stayed on Aarti’s back long after the Indian had stopped moving. Finally Sophia had the strength to stand. She dragged Aarti out of the water by her neck. Then she picked up a rock with two hands and smashed at the hated woman’s skull until red and grey splattered on the bank. The blood stain spread out into the pond, no longer pristine.

Sophia set on her dead rival’s back and looked around. Her blurred vision and throbbing headache kept her from moving. She shielded her eyes from the bright blurry light. Rishi had once said this was possibly the last clean place on earth, never soiled by man or violence. As they sunned themselves and talked about what might have been in a better world they imagined never leaving this peaceful paradise. Rishi was dead and now his paradise was lost.

Sophia stood finally and staggered gathering up what she could find of her clothes. She managed somehow to pull up her pants. She had one of Aarti’s sandals and one of hers. She pulled her blouse over her ruined breast, wobbled and fell backwards in the dirt. It took awhile but she rolled over. For a moment she worried about the new dirt on her blouse/skirt. Then she realized her brain wasn’t thinking logically. She rose up on her hands and knees and crawled slowly toward the opening in the rock. It seemed to get further and further away. She moaned and reached out for the wall. It was suddenly growing very dark and she had to be home by dark.

***

After the winter a traveling trader made his way up the steep path to the two villages. He was officially neutral about everything but trade. He found two burnt out villages and mounds of skulls: men, women and children. Shocked he started back down and found half a dozen bodies frozen in still thawing cleft under a ledge. He dug out a journal that was almost exposed. The last entry said something about the other village stealing a woman from the other. The other village claimed the same had been done to them. The women were never found, but one thing led to another. These were the last six survivors, but he didn’t know the names of the women so he couldn’t tell which village had “won.”

He shrugged and said to his caravan of mules, “Wasted trip.” The mules nodded and began their mindless trek back down the mountain.