No rest for Emma as Claire is out for revenge….
As it turned out, Emma had little time to recover either physically or mentally before she was called back into action once more. We had left the Smythe mansion in the early evening and by 10 AM the following morning, Emma found herself challenged to a match by non other than Claire. News traveled fast in the catfighting world it seemed, and Claire intended to take Emma up on her offer of a rematch ‘anytime’ that was offered at the end of their previous fight.
‘You said a rematch any time I wanted on bitch’ Claire told Emma over the phone. ‘Well I want you tonight, 8PM at my flat. No rules, no holds barred until one of us gives up. Bring Steve. There’s no seconds, but there should be someone there to watch me hand you a beating’ and with that, the jet haired firebrand had hung up the phone, not even waiting for a reply.
‘I have to do it’ Emma had told me when I tried to talk her out of it. ‘I said it, so it’s my fault; I should have known that little harlot would wait until I’d had a tough match before she picked her rematch with me!’
‘You’ve got to assume that Claire knows everything about yesterday then Em’ I advised. ‘She must know about the carpet burns on your breast for example, and you have to assume that she’s coming straight after something like that from the start’ I told her.
‘Don’t worry’ Emma agreed ‘I’m sure you’re right, and I’ll be as ready for her as I can. I need to try and put her away quickly though before she gets chance to do anything.’
Those tactics seemed sound enough to me, I just hoped that Emma was able to keep Claire from getting at her for long enough to get the job done. There was not too much doubt that Claire would be able to hurt Emma with the right kind of attacks. Claire was, I knew, a shrewd fighter now. While Emma had her outgunned in experience, strength and size, Claire would present her with a tough challenge. Add to the mix Emma’s slightly battered state after tangling with her arch rival Sara no more than 24 hours before, and this promised to be a big challenge for Emma.
We traveled the short distance to Claire’s new apartment that night, arriving a few minutes before the 8PM start that Claire had demanded. Without a word, Claire opened the door and stepped aside to wave us both inside. Wearing a simple black tracksuit, Claire closed the door before offering Emma a choice of venues for the fight. ‘I’ll fight you here in the lounge, or we can fight in my bedroom. Your choice’ she told Emma before tellingly adding ‘I know you like a good bedroom catfight’ There was no sign of a wrestling mat in either of the rooms as Emma eyed both before deciding ‘the lounge will do just fine.’
It was certainly a spacious enough venue for the match. Two sides of the roughly outlined fight area were hemmed in by large leather sofas. A wall completed the fight area at one end, while the far end of the room disappeared into an open plan kitchen with a had stone floor.
‘Lounge it is then bitch’ Claire agreed ‘Are you comfortable with the rules for tonight’ she asked Emma.
‘Anything goes until you give up just like last time’ Emma taunted, her fight face on now.
‘Almost right’ Claire agreed ‘only it’ll be you begging me to stop tonight Emma’
The two women stood eyeing each other from across the tight confines of the makeshift fight arena. Claire confident, her eyes smouldering with barely contained fury as she was determined to take her revenge. Emma looked confident too, knowing that she had beaten Claire before in their previous impromptu fight, but this time she would have to contend with the after effects of her beating from Sara. Claire unzipped the top of her tracksuit, allowing it to drop from her body to reveal that she intended to fight Emma topless. The removal of her trousers showed that she had chosen a tiny, white skirted, lace thong along with a pair of nude shimmering hold up stockings. As ever, she was in great shape. Emma was a little more modestly attired as she stripped off her jeans, boots and coat to reveal a pastel blue cami top hanging loosely over her sore breasts and a matching pair of satin boy shorts completed her outfit. Claire looked disappointed that Emma’s breasts weren’t on show; ‘hiding something bitch, or just embarrassed to put those saggy udders up against these?’ she taunted as she jutted her own breasts in Emma’ direction.
‘It’s a fight, not a modeling contest slut!’ Emma shot back, hoping to cover herself, but I think each of us in the room knew the reason why Emma was more modestly attired and intended to remain that way.
‘Just as well it’s not a modeling contest bitch’ Claire fired back ‘Let’s face it, you’d be well out of your depth in that with me!’
And with that snide remark, the fight was on, Emma angered enough to rush Claire, bowling the smaller jet haired fighter straight back onto one of the leather sofas. Gaining a semi-effective pin position, Emma hammered three hard fists into Claire’s stomach. A fast start was vital for Emma, who with the early adrenalin rush of the fight coursing through her veins, brushed off Claire’s retaliatory jab to her breasts before grabbing her long hair to rag doll her head around viciously. Still in the semi-pin position she’d been able to claim, Emma continued her attack with a slap to the face, again brushing off a jab to the breasts as she did so. It looked clear to me that Claire’s attacks were going to focus on working Emma’s breasts over. Sensing that, Emma looked to up the ante, throwing Claire from the sofa by the hair before aiming a kick at her ribs that the smaller woman did well to avoid, rolling clear and smartly getting to her feet before Emma could follow up.
The two women glowered at each other across the living room following the early exchange of action; contempt for each other clearly etched on their faces. It was Emma who again made the first aggressive move, grabbing Claire’s hair to pull her into a side headlock. Pulling Claire’s face in tight against her sore breasts proved to be something of a mistake though as the jet haired fighter took that chance to shift her head slightly, sink her teeth into Emma’s tight breast,and as Emma shrieked with pain, she turned Claire loose as the fight swung into her former friend’s favour. Claire wasted no time, puling loose of the headlock and slamming a kick into Emma’s stomach. A right hand to the jaw followed, stinging but not stunning Emma who blocked a second right hand only for a knee to catch her in the stomach. That doubled her forward, and Claire took the presented chance to deliver a knee lift to Emma’s breasts drawing a cry of pain as Emma crashed to the floor. Breathing hard, Emma subconsciously grabbed for her breasts, giving Claire an even clearer indication of the pain burning there courtesy of her American nemesis Sara.
An evil smile played across Claire’s face as she realised that Emma, still clutching her breasts as she rose, was clearly hurt. Wasting no time, Claire impressively delivered a standing drop kick, her feet catching Emma squarely in the chest as it sent her sprawling onto the sofa. Cat-like, Claire pounced, flying her smaller frame across the room to deliver a splash of sorts to Emma on the sofa. Then, securing a similarly precarious pinning position to that which Emma had enjoyed just a few moments earlier, Claire rained in a series of slaps to Emma’s face. Emma looked to cover up, her arms in front of her face, but that just gave Claire the chance to switch her target to those wounded breasts once more, quickly drawing cries of pain from Emma as each slap increased the burning pain in her breasts. Looking to defend, Emma wrapped her arms around Claire, pulling her in tight to her own body, to deny her the space to deliver anymore slaps. It was an effective enough defence, trapped by Emma’s power, Claire had no room to continue her attack. Emma had no position to attack from either though, her move was purely defensive and we had something of a stalemate on the sofa.
‘Don’t you want to fight bitch?’ Claire taunted Emma ‘I’m not here for a fucking cuddle!’
‘Fuck you bitch!’ Emma spat back as Claire found herself something of an opening, landing a couple of good right hands to Emma’s ribs, and as Emma’s defensive bear hug was broken, Claire was free. Taking a stiff slap to the face from Emma, Claire grabbed the front of Emma’s cami top, quickly tearing it from top to bottom. The carpet burns and bruises from Emma’s clash with Sara just the previous day were clearly visible, and fearing an immediate attack from Claire, Emma immediately covered them with her arms. Wisely, Claire attacked elsewhere with a right hand to Emma’s unprotected jaw. That dazed Emma and Claire took the chance to snake a hand inside her boy shorts to apply a crotch claw that immediately cleared Emma’s head as the pain brought her back to her senses. Fighting off the pain, Emma delivered an effective punch to Claire’s chest, knocking the jet haired fighter off her and to the floor.
Emma wearily got off the sofa, the effects of yesterday’s tough battle still clearly weighing heavily on her. Her cami top still hung at her shoulders, but completely open at the front, it offered her no protection. Her right jab did though as she planted it firmly, twice, in Claire’s face as the lightweight champion tried to close in on her to continue her attack. Emma grabbed, reaching for Claire’s long black hair, this time pulling her into a tight front headlock which she applied tightly before lifting a knee into Claire’s solar plexus. Claire’s knees buckled slightly, but the choking front headlock kept the jet haired fighter upright to receive a second knee lift before Emma let her drop to the floor. Emma’s follow up saw her straddle Claire’s back as she got to all fours, locking her ankles beneath her and falling to her side to trap her in a tight side body scissor. Emma flexed her thighs, drawing a guttural cry of pain and frustration from the smaller woman as Emma’s thick, powerful legs ground into her. Had Emma finally got Claire where she wanted her I wondered as she continued to punish her former friend. It turned out though that it was Claire who inadvertently had Emma where she wanted her as, with their bodies locked closely together, Claire was able to take the chance to sink her nails into Emma’s breasts. Now it was the auburn haired woman who’s head went back in pain as the sharp nails expertly tortured her.
Keeping up the breast torture with her left hand, Claire took a handful of hair to bounce Emma’s head off the floor, and with Emma stunned, the jet haired fighter slipped free of the scissor hold. Moving to a cross pinning position, Claire took control of both of Emma’s arms, one tightly scissored between her thighs, the other pinned firmly to the floor by her left hand. Unable to defend herself, Emma gritted her teeth, expecting the breast torture to start up again, but Claire surprised her by hammering home five rapid punches to her stomach, each one landing progressively lower. A sixth punch crashed into the front of her satin shorts before Claire again snaked her hand inside those shorts to apply another crotch claw. A look of glee on Claire’s face showed that she was confident she had Emma now and indeed, Emma’s howls of pain as the smaller woman mauled her womanhood. Resorting to the only defence available to her , Emma lifted her head, sinking her teeth into Claire’s side. ‘You fucking cunt!’ Claire screamed as she broke off the crotch claw to cruelly rake Emma’s eyes before bouncing the back of her head off the floor once more. A slap and nail rake to both breasts completed Claire’s response to that show of defiance, and as Emma writhed in pain Claire climbed off her before delivering a sharp kick to her side.
Pulling a howling Emma from the floor by both breasts, Claire quickly slipped her hand between Emma’s legs, looking to body slam her. I thought that might prove to be a mistake, but Claire’s tightly toned arms suggested that she had been working out, and the ease with which she lifted and slammed the 170lb Emma seemed to prove that. The floor was unforgiving and with Emma winded, Claire could perhaps of finished her off there and then; she had other plans though, using the breasts to lift Emma again. This time, she slipped behind Emma before lifting her from behind to deliver an inverted body slam, dropping Emma breasts first to the hard floor. I was pretty sure that the match was over whenever Claire wanted it to be now. On the back of her beating by the blonde bitch Sara, those two slams had knocked the fight right out of Emma who now found herself trapped in a boston crab by Claire. Quickly, Claire started to walk Emma around the room in that hold, drawing screams as she dragged Emma’s breasts across the carpet as she frantically tried to get her elbows under her.
Tellingly, Claire hadn’t asked Emma if she submitted yet despite the cries of pain she was drawing from the bigger woman. She wanted to put the exclamation point on her victory which she did as she pulled Emma to her feet by her breasts once again. As Emma tottered, dazed, Claire delivered the coup de grace, a straight punt to the crotch that sent Emma crashing to the floor and crying out her submission as she rolled in agony on the floor.
‘No more, you win, you win!’ Emma cried out as she sobbed on the floor.
Claire was in no mood for sympathy or reconciliation though, throwing Emma’s clothes at her and telling her ‘get dressed and get out you fucking loser bitch!’
Emma did just that, hurriedly dressing and we left, Emma’s head bowed in defeat to her former friend. Suffice to say that it was a quiet journey home. Emma had taken two fearsome beatings in as many days and was in no mood for idle chat. Meanwhile, I wondered if she would actually want to fight again, and if she did, how the hell I was going to rebuild her shattered confidence?