The Forest Fight
By wolfboy
Emma gets her rematch with the Southern Belles champion Sara.
‘I have to take her on again Steve’ Emma told me ‘she beat me fair and square last time but there’s no denying it, it’s affected all of my performances since. I don’t think I’d have lost the title without that match with her. No, I have to face that Southern Belle’s bitch Sara again to try and get myself back on track!’
‘Well if you’re sure that’s what you want, leave it with me and I’ll see what I can set up for you’ I agreed with Emma. I wasn’t entirely sure it was her best ever choice, but if she wanted to do this, there wasn’t going to be any chance that I could persuade her otherwise. Resigned to the fact that one way or another, the match would happen, I asked Emma ‘do you have anything in mind for the match then Em? I’ll use your ideas to set the match up for you if I can.’
‘Same rules as last time Steve’ Emma told me ‘somewhere outdoors over here as well. I don’t know where yet, but Lord Smythe’s estate must have some kind of secluded outdoor possibilities. You get in touch with Sara’ she suggested to me ‘and I’ll have a chat with Lady Amelia to see what she suggests.’
It didn’t take me long to get a reply from Sara. I had sent an email to the Southern Belles catfight organisation to see if they could get Sara to agree to the rematch. I think it must have taken all of half an hour to receive a reply from the Southern Belles champion that was short and to the point. ‘I accept; any time any venue and any rules, I’ll win again. Just tell me where and when and I’ll be there.’
Emma’s chat with Lady Amelia had also turned up a pretty quick response. ‘Amelia says that there’s a decent sized clearing in one of the woods at the back of the house. She used to use it occasionally for some pretty private matches with one of her house staff apparently. Can’t be seen from anywhere around it other than directly above the clearing so it sounds pretty much ideal. She says we can use it whenever we want.’
‘Well it sounds ideal’ I agreed ‘pretty sure that Sara will have no problem with it. The only question is when?’ I asked Emma
‘Four weeks or so’ Emma said ‘that would put us towards the end of the summer so it should be plenty warm enough still. Let’s see how that bitch handles some British summer weather’ Emma smiled. Now that the match was all but set up, I could tell that Emma was already looking forward to rejoining battle with her rival. ‘And as for attire; it’s a country house so how about some old fashioned corsets, stockings and riding boots maybe? See what she says anyway Steve’ Emma told me.
* * * *
I hadn’t expected any problems in getting Sara’s approval for the match, venue and attire and as predicted, that had been the case. Now we found ourselves stood in the clearing waiting for the match to get started. As Amelia had said, the clearing was a reasonably large grassy area surrounded almost entirely by trees. Cleared of most of the more obvious instructions, the clearing was nevertheless a natural outdoor arena and with the anything goes rules that had been agreed on; there was a fair chance that the arena might provide the women with potential weapons that I was sure neither would be slow to use given the chance.
Emma stood glowering at Sara from her corner of the clearing as we listened to the referee run through the rules and introductions for the fight. ‘Ladies, as you’ve agreed this is a no holds barred anything goes catfight with no time limit. You will each have the use of one timeout which you may use to stop the action for a one minute break. The aim is to make your opponent admit that you are the better woman. Apart from the time outs, I will not interfere in the match at all until one of you has won. So first of all, on my left is the Southern Belles catfight champion Sara.’ The confident American blonde had been standing impassively in her corner, and now stepped forward removing her long coat to reveal her beautiful and powerful body. Her impressive yet dangerous breasts threatened to burst out of the top of her lace up front leather corset. A black g string, black stockings and a pair of black riding boots completed her outfit. ‘Sara is 5 feet 9 inches tall, weighs 160lbs and measures 38DD-26-38 with a record of 24 wins and 6 defeats.’ The referee continued ‘And her opponent is Emma Baines. Emma is 5 feet 10 inches tall, weighs 164lbs and measures 40E-27-37 with a record of 30 wins and 12 defeats.’ Emma let her coat slip from her shoulders to reveal a black and pink satin corset which she combined with a black lace thong, black fishnet stockings and a pair of black quilted knee high riding boots.
‘OK ladies, if you’re both ready’ the referee asked, getting positive responses from both women ‘then fight!’ At that instruction, I took my seat in the small crows for what was essentially a private challenge match. With the rules set as they were, there would be no need for any corner men once the action got underway. I had expected the match to go off at a ferocious pace from the start with both women eager to get into the action , but through the first minute both women were cautious, probing the other’s defences. Sara slapped hard, her right hand cracking off Emma’s face; Emma looked to reply with a slap to the face of her own but found it well blocked by Sara who was able to latch onto Emma’s hair and finally the pace of the match started to pick up. Using her grip of Emma’s flowing auburn hair to bend her forward at the waist, Sara rammed home three quick fire knee lifts into Emma’s chest. A fourth was attempted, but Emma blocked catching Sara’s leg and managing to force her off balance enough for the two women to break apart.
Emma slapped at Sara’s thigh, landing solidly enough but paying for it with a reply to the face that seemed to stun her as Sara was able to catch her with a kick to the stomach that knocked Emma down on her backside. Sara was fast, on top of Emma almost as soon as she hit the ground and she drove her thigh into Emma’s face as she bowled her over onto her back in the grassy arena. Emma tried to roll clear but she found herself trapped as Sara caught hold of her legs, spreading them wide before stomping down to the pit of her stomach. Emma rolled to her side as Sara released her legs, clutching her stomach and gasping for breath; it seemed to have taken Sara only a couple of minutes to knock some of Emma’s pre-match confidence out of her. Content that she was on top, Sara took her time, grabbing Emma’s hair and pulling her to a half standing position before a backhand across the mouth sent Emma reeling across the clearing.
Sara stalked quickly after Emma, landing two hard body punches for the cost of an ineffective slap to the chest. With Emma slowed up by the body blows, Sara wasted no time in lifting Emma to deliver a body slam. Although the ground had some give in it thanks to the British summer weather, it was hardly the most forgiving of surfaces either, and Emma was winded by the landing even before Sara followed up with an elbow drop to the stomach. Whereas Sara had been keen to trade insults as well as bows with Emma on the beach, this time she seemed to be all business so far, determined to re-exert her dominance it seemed to me before starting with the verbals as well. Sara moved into a pinning position, lying stomach to stomach on top of Emma before tying her legs up in a grapevine. Emma fought against Sara’s attempt to spread her legs, successfully it seemed until Sara used a double handful of hair to bounce Emma’s head off the grassy ground. Briefly stunned, Emma was unable to resist as Sara was able to spread her legs wide apart.
Emma let out a pained cry, taken by surprise at the power Sara had been able to use to apply the grapevine. Sara was already moving on to her next move though, grabbing Emma’s corset with both hands before ripping at it, looking to tear it and reveal Emma’s breasts. Realising the predicament, Emma tried to defend, slapping Sara’s face before grabbing her wrists to try and put paid to her attempt. The two women struggled briefly, Emma looking to keep hold of Sara’s wrists; the American was able to wriggle one arm free, immediately using it to catch Emma with two stiff forearms to the face. That took the fight out of Emma for long enough to allow Sara to succeed in ripping her corset away to reveal her E cup breasts. They were the immediate target for Sara who punched away at both breasts; Emma tried to defend, wrapping an arm around Sara’s head and pulling her face in to her breasts to try and apply a smother. An anguished scream from Emma suggested that move hadn’t gone completely to plan as Sara’s teeth latched on to her right breast, tenderising the soft breast flesh as Emma continued to howl in pain.
Eventually tiring of that method of attack, Sara broke off from chewing on Emma’s breast and after delivering another hard punch to both breasts; she broke the grapevine, grabbed Emma’s hair and dragged her back to her feet. Lifting Emma into a bear hug, she walked her over towards the far side of the clearing before delivering an atomic drop, instantly putting Emma back on the ground. One of Emma’s hands clutched between her legs, the other grabbed at the fire burning in her right breast courtesy of Sara’s teeth. The Southern Belles champion was content to take her time again, confident that she was on top and as Emma struggled to her back to her feet, she bent down to pick up an item from the ground. A kick to Emma’s rib cage floored her once again before Sara hauled her to her feet to deliver a straight right hand to her face. Emma staggered and didn’t see Sara’s follow up kick which caught her low in the pit of the stomach and Emma crashed, winded, to the ground once more. Sara was on her quickly once more, wrapping Emma up in a rear body scissor, her right arm snaked tightly around Emma’s throat while she finally revealed the object she had lifted off the floor to be a pine cone. Keeping that in her left hand, she used it to enhance her breast claw on Emma’s right breast, grinding the sharp abrasive pine cone in to her already tender breast.
‘How does that feel bitch?’ Sara practically spat at Emma who replied with a loud cry of pain and frustration as she was unable to break the total dominance of her opponent.
‘How about now?’ Sara enquired as she ground the pine cone deeper into her breast drawing another anguished cry out of Emma as she went on ‘why don’t we just skip to the part where you admit I’m better than you again slut?’
‘Fuck off’ was Emma’s blunt reply before Sara again went to work with the pine cone across her breasts. This time, Emma’s anguished cry also included the words ‘TIME OUT!’ blurted out at the end of the cry. Sara was forced to break the hold as the referee told her that Emma had called for her time out. As she broke, Sara pulled the rest of Emma’s corset from her body and threw it, along with the pine cone, in to the trees that surrounded the fight area.
Sara hovered confidently close to Emma as she waited for the sixty second time out to tick down. Although the two women were on the opposite side of the clearing from us, it was clear that Emma was already in poor shape, blood smeared across her right breast thanks to Sara’s work with the pine cone and her lips swollen from several slaps and punches that her American foe had landed cleanly in the five minutes it had taken her to force Emma to use her time out. I fancied it wouldn’t take long for Sara to finish Emma off if the match continued in the same way.
As the referee completed the countdown and instructed the two women to fight, Emma had got to all fours but with Sara hovering nearby to drive a knee into her side, she was almost immediately flat on her back in the grass again. Sara used Emma’s hair to bring her back to the kneeling position before stepping forward to trap Emma in a powerful standing head scissor. Emma’s face was framed perfectly by Sara’s thighs as she used them to apply the pressure to Emma once again. Reaching down, Sara grabbed the back of Emma’s lace thong immediately pulling it into a painful wedgie. Emma let out a moan of discomfort and dug her nails into Sara’s backside as she tried to get her to ease up on the scissor at least but Sara squeezed hard once again before she continued with the wedgie. Emma groaned again as the lace fabric of her thong cut into her womanhood, but almost instantly, there was a loud ripping noise as the thong gave way. Sara threw it towards the small crowd before rolling to her side to keep Emma trapped in the head scissor now down on the ground. Pulling Emma’s right arm out into a loose arm bar, Sara presented herself with a new target in Emma’s already bloodied right breast. After delivering a couple of almost playful slaps to the breast, she drove the point of her elbow into it, flattening it against Emma’s chest as she ground her elbow into it.
Emma moaned in pain once again, but she was trying to fight back once again as she slammed her left fist into Sara’s thighs and she succeeded in getting Sara to turn her loose. Sara still held the upper hand though, driving a knee into Emma’s ribs down on the ground before bringing her back to her feet by the hair and into a grinding side head lock as she walked Emma across the clearing towards the crowd before driving a short punch up into Emma’s face to knock her back to the ground. Reaching out to grab Emma’s hair again, Sara mused to no one in particular ‘is this the best opponent you could find me?’. Emma tried to fire back again, perhaps stung by the insult, and a punch to the stomach caught Sara a glancing blow before the American shot back another backhand strike across Emma’s face. Emma was sent reeling by that blow and as Sara ‘generously helped’ her back up with a handful of hair I could see that Emma was also bleeding from a split lip now. Sara was in no mood to let up though, lifting Emma up to deliver another crunching body slam before she sat down hard on Emma’s chest in a reverse pin. It looked to me like Sara could simply have shifted back into a reverse face sit and possibly claimed the victory right there but she seemed to have it in mind to really dominate Emma first. From her perch on top of Emma’s chest, Sara used her nails to shred Emma’s fishnet stockings, scratching away at her legs as she did so. It was only a matter of a few seconds before Emma found herself completely naked now apart from her riding boots. Sara paused momentarily before reaching back to grab Emma’s hair to once again bounce the back of her head off the ground.
Emma looked stunned and completely overwhelmed as Sara continued her onslaught by pounding half a dozen body punches into Emma’s stomach, each one seeming to drive more of the fight out of Emma as they struck home. Content with her work for now, Sara remained in her pinning position, hands on hips as she controlled Emma. An occasional slap to the body reminded Emma of the way the match was going, but before long Sara looked to move on to the next stage of her attack on my wife. Lifting Emma to her feet, a knee lift to the stomach doubled her over, a second to the chest forced her back upright, and a one-two to body and jaw dropped her back to the ground. It looked to me like the fight was as good as over; a one sided mauling at the hands of the Southern Belle looking to be the only thing that Emma was going to be taking away from this forest fight. Sara certainly thought that too, announcing ‘it’s smother time bitch!’ to Emma as she unlaced the front of her own corset to reveal her breasts so that she could use them to deliver the final submission. Confidently she stepped back towards Emma, and she never saw it coming at all as Emma lashed out from the ground in desperation. The look of surprise on Sara’s face quickly turned to one of pain as Emma’s boot connected perfectly with her crotch and the American crashed to the ground crying out in pain.
It was a chance, finally, for Emma to try and get back into the match. She was able to take a few seconds to gather herself as well before she pulled herself painfully off the ground and went over to her now grounded opponent. Emma was in no mood to pass up this chance, and she spread Sara’s legs wide to deliver a cruel knee drop to the crotch that drew a scream of pain from the suddenly struggling American woman. A repeat dose of the move saw Sara rolling on the ground, clearly in agony from the move and as the referee held Emma back it was apparent that Sara had been forced to use her time out in the face of Emma’s concerted assault on her crotch. In the space of the minute, the fight had completely turned around; I hadn’t seen any way back into the fight for Emma yet now I found myself wondering if the sixty second time out was going to be long enough for Sara to recover.
It certainly seemed that Sara hadn’t had chance to recover as the referee instructed both women to fight as the sixty seconds expired. Sara had barely moved from her position on the ground; Emma for her part was a little cautious in going straight on the offensive as well, perhaps sensing a trap as she aimed a couple of quick kicks at her opponent’s body. That seemed to elicit no real response from Sara so Emma bent over her to grab her hair and pull her from the ground. Now Sara tried to respond, but it seemed that her slap to Emma’s body lacked strength and Emma brushed it off, replying with a solid punch to the pit of Sara’s stomach. That slowed any fight back from the American, and she found herself lifted and body slammed with authority now by Emma. Slow to recover now, Sara found herself caught with a heel stomp to the stomach, and as she sat up slightly from that blow, Emma flashed another sharp kick into the Southern Belle’s breasts to put her flat out in the grass. Emma pressed on now, perhaps looking to finish Sara off quickly before she had any chance to recuperate. Emma lifted Sara to her feet, waistlocked her and quickly delivered a perfect, pussy-pounding atomic drop that left Sara standing, stunned, clutching her crotch again at least until Emma floored her with a straight head butt to the breasts.
As Sara crashed to the ground, Emma moved down to pin her to the ground riding high on Sara’s chest as she looked to grind out an admission of defeat from her American nemesis. Quickly, Emma moved position going in for the reverse face sit, her naked ass smothering Sara’s face s she reached forward to slip Sara’s g-string down her thighs before applying a crotch claw to the American fighter. Some muffled cries were audible from Sara as Emma worked her crotch over viciously, all the while maintaining the smother as well.
‘You know the deal bitch’ Emma reminded her ‘now you say I’m the better woman or I’ll turn your pussy inside out bitch!’ Sara’s reply was muffled as Emma spoke again ‘oh, I’m sorry, you can’t say much at the moment can you? What was that?’ she asked as she leant forward slightly to give Sara chance to reply.
‘Fuck you! Get your fat ass off my face bitch!’ was Sara’s reply, slightly cut off at the end as Emma sat back to reapply the smother.
Now Emma added to Sara’s discomfort. As if the face sit and the crotch claw weren’t enough, Emma slammed an elbow into Sara’s right breast before cruelly twisting and mauling it. Still muffled, Sara’s protests were a little more audible this time even before Emma leant forward again to ask if she gave up.
‘Fuck you! I won’t say it.....Aaaagh!’ came Sara’s reply as Emma added another cruel twist to her breast claw attack part way through Sara’s reply. Emma sat back once again, the face sit smother back in place. ‘GIVE......UP!’ Emma shouted, punctuating each word with a hard body punch before she went back to the breast and crotch mauling again and this time it was almost a minute before she enquired of Sara if she was ready to admit she was the better woman.
‘I give, I give’ Sara replied but Emma was having none of that as she put Sara back in the face sit once more to give her time to reconsider. A little more crotch and breast mauling might have helped make Sara’s mind up for her it seemed as the next time Emma allowed her to speak, Sara quickly blurted out ‘You’re the better woman, now get off me!’
Emma did as she was asked, rising triumphantly from her vanquished foe as Sara rolled into a ball on the ground trying to block out the pain and perhaps the frustration of defeat in a match she had looked certain to win for all but the last few minutes. Emma certainly didn’t bear the look of a winner as she left the clearing though; stripped naked apart from her boots and a small part of a shredded stocking and bloodied around the mouth and breasts, her victory had been hard won. A victory that had been almost entirely down to one lucky strike with her boot as she seemed to be on the verge of defeat as well to be honest.
Later that day, Emma told me ‘I know I got lucky Steve, but it’s still satisfying to beat that bitch. She’ll be back for another go though I’m sure, and I can hardly refuse her that now that it’s one win each for us can I?’
‘You could do’ I told her ‘I’m guessing you won’t though?’ I asked. The look Emma shot me in reply told me everything that I needed to know about her thoughts on that. All that remained it seemed was to wait and see how long it would take for Sara to ask for her rematch.