WARNING: These stories contain graphic violence, nudity, and suggestive F/F sexual situations. They are most definitely intended for, and should only be read by, mature adults, over the age of twenty-one.

Vignettes 5. Three F/F fighting stories.
by
GW
(gwalb@nycap.rr.com or gwalb@yahoo.com or gwalb10054@gmail.com)
https://www.thevalkyrie.com/stories/gw/index.htm.

 As I've stated elsewhere, back in the 1950's and 1960's, devotees of female wrestling, and catfighting had few options. One was the four page, sixteen panel, Cartoon Stories from Peerless Sales. Two of my two favorites were by the artist RAL, about a character called 'Judo Judy'.  Judy's fight with a rival named Frenchy was my favorite catfight of the period, and I have long been enthralled by it. In the mid-1990's I made a stab at doing a text version of it. I know I did not do the original justice, but here it is anyway. (Darkmagician333 at Deviant Art has also done an excellent text version of the RAL Cartoon.)

French Feet.

Judy Johnson woke up with a start. It was Saturday morning and she'd planned to sleep late, for a change. Now the darn door-bell was ringing, and it was only seven-thirty. 

"Oh heck, who is that?" Judy sighed, but the busty, blond martial arts expert hopped out of bed. She flicked her long, blond page-boy from her gorgeous face, and pulled on a loose cut-off tee-shirt. It's looseness couldn't hide the exciting dimensions of her incredible bosom. She slid long, muscularly-curved legs into skin-tight capris, and  before she headed for the door, a pair of heels. She remembered the night before and yawning murmured: "Darn that Frenchy! She's always starting trouble. Just because that dopey boyfriend of hers asked me to dance. What a nerd! I only said 'yes'  because I felt so sorry for him, and she starts an argument over it."

Renee' Lafitte, or Frenchy LaFeet as she was generally called, taught kick boxing at Dave Marshall's Martial Arts School. The Marshall Academy was a chief rival of the Judo School, Judy owned and ran.

"I should never have gone to that dance. I only went because Dave asked me as a personal favor. I'm sure glad I didn't hire that girl, when she came here from Marseilles, and applied for a job. When I interviewed her, she came dressed more like she was applying for a corner on Place Pigalle.Then she had the nerve to tell me Judo was a joke, and Savate was the only 'REAL' martial art. Dave told me, she's nothing but trouble." Judy mused.

The doorbell rang again, and Judy carelessly opened the door without checking who was outside. Being nearly unexcelled at Judo, Judy rarely worried about personal safety. A few men, and at least one huge muscular female, who tried to take advantage of the gorgeous blonde, were darn sorry after Judy taught them a thing or two about polite manners.

 As Judy swung the door open, a hard feminine fist smashed into her jaw. The murderous force of the punch knocked her to the floor. Stunned, Judy lay there a moment fingering her aching jaw, trying to get her bearings. She sure wasn't used to getting knocked down like that. She didn't know many people who could do it, either.

Then right behind her fist, Frenchy, herself, swaggered into Judy's home.

 Standing above Judy, hands on hips, Frenchy snarled: "You beetch, since you dance with my boyfriend las' night, he only have eyes for you. Well Beetch, Frenchy get her revenge now."
Still lying on the floor a little dazed, Judy tried to explain. "B-but I only danced with him because he asked me." She gasped.
"Feelthy liar! Don't give me that merde, Beetch. You lead him on, you rub your big, fat teets against him like cheap two-franc poule. Now, he not know Frenchy alive. Well Beetch, Frenchy will show YOU, she is alive, all right. Frenchy always get even with Beetch like you."

 Judy got up on her knees, still a little shaky. (She had to admit the French slut could really throw a mean punch.) She'd really love to teach the nasty witch a lesson, but she believed brawling was degrading to her professional standards as  a judo teacher.

 She just snapped angrily still rubbing her jaw. "You get out. You won't listen to reason, and I don't want to hurt you, so just get out. Now!"
As Judy made it to her feet, still off-balance  Frenchy retorted. "Don't  make me laugh, Slut. You won't be hurting anyone." As she said it, Frenchy pirouetted and kicked Judy in her already aching jaw, almost knocking her back on the floor.

"Aggggghhh..." The hurt blonde wailed, stumbling backward.
Judy knew she was in for a real battle now, whether she wanted one or not. Professional standards or not, Judy had no choice, but to defend herself.

The trouble was that defending herself was not proving easy. Frenchy was hurting her, hurting her badly too, and thanks to those expert savate kicks, from those long French legs, Judy couldn't get close enough to retaliate.
Frenchy drove home the point, just then, by sinking a steel tipped toe into Judy's lower tummy.

"Ooooooooooo!" Judy gagged in shock, trying to get her breath without getting sick. The kick folded her shapely body, just about in half.
"You Americaine sluts are all alike. Always try to steal other girl's man." Frenchy hissed, and kicked Judy again, driving her steel shod toe into Judy's big right breast, impaling it like a knife. Judy shrieked in pain. She was growing desperate. What could she do to turn the fight around? She racked her brain. even as Frenchy's toe next impaled her left breast. It was awfully hard to think, when she was in so much pain.
Frenchy didn't believe in fighting fair, and she was merciless, when she was 'evening the score' for something she considered a personal affront. As Judy reeled backward, Frenchy slipped a pair of brass knuckles from her bag onto her left hand. The French bully was sure she had softened up her opponent so much, that she could safely come near enough to use her fists.

It looked like Frenchy was right; as now Judy felt the cold sting of hard metal against her yielding flesh. The first punch hit Judy's right eye squarely, almost closing it.
"Eeeeeiiiiiiii...oh you dirty, nasty Bitch!"
Judy could hardly defend herself as Frenchy's brutal punches pounded her across her living room. Glassy-eyed, the  beautiful Blonde stumbled backward, mewling and moaning at each blow.
Finally, when it was almost too late for the badly battered judo teacher, Frenchy made a mistake. Getting behind Judy, she slipped the long leather strap of her bag around Judy's neck, intending to strangle her. At first it was working; Judy gagged and choked trying to breathe.

Instinctively, though, the judo expert reached back over her shoulders, and got hold of the French woman's head and neck, with both hands. Could she do it? Yes! With the last of her fast waning strength, Judy tossed the other girl over her head, Frenchy somersalted through the air, and landed on her back with a loud crash. It was Frenchy's turn to scream in pain.
 Judy had the advantage now, but could she keep it? She made a first-rate start.
Judy was so furious by now, that she didn't care how badly she hurt the awful witch. When Frenchy tried to get up, Judy slammed her hand, stiffened like a board, in a judo chop to Frenchy's neck, near breaking it. Then the raging Blonde grabbed two handfuls of scraggly black hair, and hauled the screeching French Woman to her feet. From behind, she wrapped her strong arms around Frenchy, trapping the other woman's arms at her sides. French struggled furiously, but couldn't get loose.
  
 Standing behind the French shrew, Judy bent and twisted Frenchy's hand in a painful submission hold.

"Hold still or I'll break your wrist!" Judy hissed, not at all nicely.  Judy was in charge, now, but could she hold on to her advantage?
"Ooooww! Salope! Let go!" Frenchy  yelped. She wriggled and squirmed, but she couldn't get loose, from the beautiful judo expert's strong grip.

"Settle down, Honey, or I will break it. Just give me an excuse." Judy snarled a second warning. Of course, Judy's more ruthless opponent wouldn't have waited for an excuse, she would have just broken the wrist. Thinking back later, Judy realized just trying to restrain Frenchy, was a mistake. She should have immediately incapacitated her.
"You theenk you preety tough beetch, eh? We see how tough you are, Blondie!" Frenchy spat, and kicked backward. On the back of her skyscraper pump was a sharp, metal spur. The cruel spike jabbed into Judy's shin, to the bone. Judy shrieked at the excruciating pain, and lost her concentration.  Frenchy broke Judy's hold, easily, then, and savagely whirled on the bewildered blond. She overwhelmed Judy with several kicks to her body. Then she grabbed Judy's arms and twisted her around to drive a knee into the small of her back. The kidney strike bent Judy almost as far backward as some of the stomach kicks had bent her forward. When she tried to straighten up, she was sure her back was sprained. 

Now, Frenchy confidently resumed her attack with her fists flying.

Frenchy didn't know the word mercy. She was brutal and vicious. Judy felt the repeated cold sting of those brass knuckles. The gorgeous blonde was almost out on her feet. She tried to fight back, but French battered her head from side to side. She pounded Judy's flat belly and her big, vulnerable bosom, sadistically enjoying the delightful, squishy feeling as her fists drove deep into Judy's firmly toned flesh.
"You stick zese beeg teets in my boyfran's face las' night, how do those teets feel thees morning?" Frenchy snickered, as she drove her fists into Judy's sensitive boobs.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Judy howled.
Then a right uppercut to the jaw knocked the reeling blonde over backward. The fight was about over, for Judy at least.  Frenchy jumped on her, and squatted astride her chest. The stricken blond tried to roll her attacker off, but the French girl skillfully pinned Judy's shoulders, and arms under her knees. "You stay down, Beetch!" Helplessly trapped, Judy looked up, horrified. Frenchy's short skirt had ridden up around her hips, and she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her naked genitals almost rubbed Judy's face.

"Oh God! How disgusting?" Judy gagged, but the gorgeous blond judo instructor had worse things to worry about right then, like Frenchy's fists. Deadly punches rained down on her head and face. Frenchy battered Judy's head from side to side, so her long shimmering blond hair was cascading this way and that. Frenchy was like a wild woman, not caring if she killed her opponent or not. 

In terror for her life, unable to bear the punishment any longer, Judy began to scream desperately. "Pl-pleasssse, stoppppp...stoppppp... Pleassssssse...I give, I give. You win. You win." It was the first time in her life, Judy ever admitted defeat in a fight, and certainly the first time she ever begged for mercy, but Frenchy had stripped the proud judo instructor of all professional and personal pride.
Frenchy only laughed at Judy's pitiful appeals for mercy "Scream your blond haid off, you feelthy tramp! I make you pay good, non? You stay away from my boyfran' nex' time, eh?" She emphasized her point with another flurry of punches that rocked the screaming blonde's head from side to side.
"Y-yesss! Yesss! I'll never go near him again. Honest I won't Frenchy! Pleeeass stopppp..." Judy pleaded brokenly.
"You call me 'Mademoiselle Frenchy', from now on you big teeted peeg!" Frenchy sneered

"Y-yes...yes...Madamoiselle Frenchy! I will...I will." Judy wept contritely. "But leave me alone please... M-Mademoiselle Frenchy. D-don't hit me anymore...pleeasse...I give up!"

"Shut your stupeed mouth beetch! I leave you alone, when I get damn good and ready!" At this, though Frenchy did get off Judy, and stood up.
All right now, GET UP!"" Frenchy snarled.
Judy just lay there, too shattered to move. "Damn you Slut, move when Frenchy tell you."
"Wh-what are y-you going to do?" Judy quavered fearfully.

Frenchy grabbed Judy by the hair, hauled her up on her feet, and smacked her across the face, for not obeying quick enough. "I do what I want to you, peeg. You disgust Frenchy. Bleating like sheep in field, begging Frenchy not hurt you. You have, how you say, 'yellow belly."
"N-n-no...no more please." Judy wept, frightened out of her wits by the maniacal French woman. "Pleease no more ..." "Mademoiselle Frenchy." Judy added fearfully.
Judy could hardly stand up, her legs were trembling so.  Frenchy let go of her hair and roughly grabbed Judy's crotch, eliciting another shocked scream for mercy. Frenchy's claw felt like a pair of pincers squeezing Judy's delicate pussy.
"You want my boy friends cock in this pussy, eh? Well now you know what happens to beetch like you, when you try steal other girl's man. They don't get cock in pussy; Non, they get Frenchy's fist.  Well you know better next time, Eh? With her free hand, Frenchy smacked Judy's huge boobs back and forth for emphasis.

"Y-yes, yes...I'll know better, honest......M-Mademoiselle Frenchy..."
 Frenchy gave Judy's pussy a final vicious squeeze, but let go, and took a couple of steps backward, to better inspect her handiwork.
The snuffling, cringing blonde loser was a pathetic sight, her shoulders and proud ripened breasts slumping in humbled submission. Tears streamed down her beautiful face; her peaches and cream complexion was disfigured by fast purpling bruises all over her body, and her right eye was already closed and discolored. No one could doubt Judy had taken a savage beating, or that she was scared out of her wits, of the sneering bully who gave her the sadistic beating. There was nothing about Judy, now, to suggest she was the town's top Judo Champion.
Hadn't Frenchy done enough to her? Judy could feel Frenchy's beady, black eyes inspecting her from head to toe, and she shivered in dread, trying to gulp down the big lump in her throat.

"Pl-please Mademoiselle Frenchy..." Judy whimpered, plaintively.
Unmoved by Judy's blubbered plea for mercy, Frenchy looked at the cringing, terrified blonde speculatively. NON! Frenchy hadn't done QUITE enough. "The Beetch can still stand up."

Frenchy lunged at Judy again, and grabbed her arm giving it a hard twist. Then she expertly tossed Judy through the air. Judy shrieked as she crashed into a sizeable table, her impact knocking it over. Judy didn't even try to get up, she just lay there sobbing, hopelessly, amid the wreckage.
"Frenchy can also make the judo throws, eh Blondie?" The savate fighter crowed. 

Judy was still pleading and begging, uselessly, between sobs, even as Frenchy twisted the brutalized blonde's left arm up behind her. Now the sobbing pleading Blonde couldn't escape, and Frenchy stamped her sharp steel tipped, left heel into Judy's upper right arm, puncturing the flesh and muscle, so her shrieking victim was pinned to the floor. That was certainly painful enough, but then Frenchy stamped her deadly high heeled pump into Judy's right hand, several times breaking several bones. Judy's shrieks of agony reached a crescendo.

"Now beetch you won't be giving anymore judo chops with zat hand again, weell you?"
  
 Now, Frenchy did pick up her bag and get ready to leave. She turned for one last satisfied look at the shattered, sobbing Blonde, on the floor. Judy looked like she'd been in a train wreck. Frenchy hardly had a mark on her.
"You remember this beating well, Beetch, because maybe next time, I keel you." Then Frenchy swaggered out the door, leaving behind a humbled judo teacher, who would certainly always WELL remember, (how could she ever forget?) the worst beating of her life. 

Much later, after a friend drove Judy to the emergency room and back home, Judy, bandaged and bruised from head to foot, vowed:

"I took a beating this time, but next time she'll be the one who does the begging."

Anyone looking at Judy could tell it would be months, if not years, before she physically healed enough to fight anyone, let alone Frenchy. Her mournful, intimidated expression suggested it might take even longer to heal her shattered courage and self-confidence.
Would Judy make Frenchy beg, next time? We all hoped she would, certainly, (Well, perhaps, not quite ALL of us.) but some worried the high-principled blonde just wasn't ruthless enough to pay the vicious sadistic French woman back. One likely outcome of a return match is provided, in my unauthorized, illustrated sequel:  "More French Feet" at the GW Page. RAL's original cartoon story of this fight is included there too.

The Headmistress's Summer Vacation.

 Dr. Sarah Jensen lay relaxing on the lawn chaise lounge. It seemed to be the first time she relaxed all year. Yesterday was graduation day, the last day of the school year, her first school year as Head Mistress of the exclusive Huntington Academy for Young Ladies. Sarah looked forward to the summer to relax and work on her post doctoral thesis, here at the lake side cottage her parents left her. She had hoped the Head Mistress position would have given her more free time, but she hadn???t had a minute to herself, all year. It had been a very rewarding year though in many ways. Sarah's austere stern demeanor had swiftly restored a proper discipline to Huntington. Her aging predecessor had let things slide somewhat, in her last years before retirement.

After Sarah's first weeks in the position all of the slackness was efficiently eliminated. The only holdout was one nasty troublemaker, red-headed Donna McKenzie, whose evil pranks, truancy and malicious gossiping had caused much turmoil.

Thankfully, though, Donna had graduated. Sarah hoped yesterday was the last time she'd ever lay eyes on her. "I'm not sorry I won't have to put up with that juvenile delinquent. anymore. I have a suspicion, though, a couple of teachers just passed her to get rid of her. I don't know why in God's name my predecessor accepted anyone with that girl's record at Huntington, in the first place."

Sarah put the troublemaker out of her mind then, and settled down to edit her professional paper. 

By one of those strange, unlikely coincidences, known mainly in the work of lazy authors, Donna's parents had rented the cottage next door. Donna's father couldn't come up for another two weeks, and her mother had a few things to finish up at her job; so  for the next three days, Donna would be alone there. She was already bored out of her mind.
"I  could sunbathe I suppose." Donna considered. She looked out the window, speculatively. There was already a sunbather on the lawn next door.

"Hmff whoever she is she doesn't have a bad figure. Wonder who..."
Suddenly Donna did a double take . "Holy Shit! That's old lady Jensen. Shee-it! That bitch is gorgeous. Never thought under those baggy tweed suits...well live and learn. Wonder if I should go over and say 'hello'? I know she'll be really glad to see ME! Hah! It's only neighborly."
Mad with boredom Donna had the urge to torment someone or something. During the school year, Dr Jensen had intimidated Donna as much as Donna could be intimidated, at least. Now though? "I don't have to answer to her anymore." Donna told herself. Finally, boredom overcame discretion.

Donna sauntered across the lawn, until she was standing right next to Dr. Jensen. The Head Mistress had briefly dozed off in the warm sunshine. Donna leisurely inspected every visible inch of Sarah's delectable body.  Her eyes lit on Sarah's bosom gently rising and falling in the tiny bikini top. "Geez, that's some rack! Never thought the dried up old maid was hiding those torpedoes under those baggy suit jackets. Oou I'd like to..."
Donna was an extremely impulsive girl, and very prone to give in to her wild impulses. Hardly thinking, and throwing all discretion to the winds, Donna snatched Dr. Jensen's bikini top right off her body. The catch held a moment, and then gave way, and Donna waved the garment triumphantly in the air.
Sarah woke up with a start. Standing over her was Donna McKenzie, the last person in the world she expected, or wanted, to see. The Snotty little brat had actually torn off her bikini top and was waving it in the air.
"What in God's name do you think you're doing? Give me that, this instant, Young Lady" Sarah snapped in her sternest head mistress voice.

Donna laughed nervously, but she wouldn't give in. "Come and get it!" She challenged.

Seething, Sarah jumped up angrily, and took a threatening step toward Donna. Until yesterday, Donna would have chickened out, and returned the bra top, but today, naked to the waist, and not much below it, (It was a very tiny bikini.) cost Sarah  a good deal of her formidable dignity. Definitely a half naked woman, with big naked, very sprightly, breasts bobbing around her chest, just wasn't anywhere near as scary, as the stern, nearly sexless Head Mistress. For the first time since she met her, Donna dared openly defy Dr. Jensen. As Sarah approached, Donna danced backward. Sarah lunged at her, but the exasperating girl dodged to one side playing keep away.
Too late, Sarah realized she should have laughed it off. Now she must either back down, or chase Donna around the yard. The agile teenager was quick too, very quick, and chasing her might be a losing proposition.

"All right! Cut it out, now! I???m not amused."  Sarah snapped angrily. "Either return it, and act like a proper young lady, or..."  Sarah blustered. Even as she said it, she realized there was very little she could do in retaliation.

"Or what, SARAH? I graduated yesterday, remember?" The impudent girl laughed, calling Sarah's idle bluff. "I dare you to catch me."

In her heart, Sarah knew it was a mistake, but this little snot was just so infuriating, she couldn't help herself.  She made another furious lunge at Donna. Once again, Donna dodged away keeping the top just out of reach.

"Yah-yah... Sarah can't catch me. Sarah can't catch me." Donna chanted. By now she had lost all fear of the stern Head Mistress. A lock of Sarah???s hair had come loose, and fallen across her face. At the same time she was trying very unsuccessfully, to cover her nude bosom with one hand, while she grabbed at the bikini top with the other. It was awfully hard to project stern authority like that. Donna had to admit, the Head Mistress looked really cute that way, without her glasses, her face pink with anger, and more than a glimpse of high-set boobs heaving angrily. Except for those big boobs, she looked hardly older than some of Donna's Classmates. And Donna was always tormenting them.

"This is fun." Donna thought. It was so much fun that when Sarah lunged again, and missed again, Donna smacked her on the behind as she sailed past.

The result was highly satisfying to Donna. The harried Head Mistress straightened up indignantly. "HOW DARE YOU?"

Like a matador tormenting a bull with a red cape, Donna waved the bra almost under Sarah's nose, and taunted her some more.

"Ha, ha! Sarah still can't catch me." Sarah made another mad fruitless grab. As Donna dodged out of the way, she stuck out her leg, and Sarah tripped over it. She stumbled and almost fell, waving her arms wildly for balance. Donna got a really good look at Sarah's naked beasts jiggling wildly.

"What the heck." Donna thought. She stepped up close and gave Sarah a shove. Already off balance, Sarah fell flat on her face in the grass. She clenched her fists furiously and jumped up. She knew this was getting out of hand, but she was too angry to care. "Damn that little bitch!" She thought.

Sarah stalked Donna, eyes blazing. She was absolutely seething.

Seeing that furious look, brought Donna back to reality. It was suddenly apparent how much bigger and stronger-looking Sarah was. Even then, though, Donna was too stubborn to give in. She dodged backward as Sarah charged at her.

"Oh shit!" Donna thought as she suddenly backed into the porch railing, cutting off her means of escape.  An instant later, Sarah with her added height and reach, succeeded in grabbing her bikini top, that Donna was still holding over their heads.  Donna still wouldn???t let it go though. Sarah tugged on it, but Donna held on for dear life. 

With both their arms overhead Sarah found herself in the embarrassing position of having her bare boobs rubbing against Donna's body. Donna felt a breathless thrill. Donna liked both boys and girls, but with girls she liked to dominate them. She'd never thought of that in connection with Sarah Jensen, before, but now she was getting ideas.

if Sarah wasn???t so furious she would have broken this thing off right there. It was against Donna's better judgement too, but she impulsively cast caution to the winds. She boldly twisted her foot around Sarah???s leg and shoved the headmistress over on her back in the grass. Donna came down on top of Sarah, knocking the breath out of her. Even so, in a frenzy Sarah rolled them over to get on top. But Donna was quick and agile, and kept right on rolling, until she was on top again. As they rolled, she wrapped her legs around Sarah???s waist. Once she was on top again she had a distinct leverage advantage.

Sarah bucked upward but Donna rode with her, and skillfully grapevined both her legs around Sarah???s thighs. Their hands were still locked together. And Donna pressed Sarah???s arms down flat above her head. Suddenly Sarah realized she was trapped. She strained her arms to free them by brute strength.  Her nicely defined biceps muscles bulged, but Donna was able to bear down with her full body weight, while Sarah had no leverage.

"She???s almost as strong as I am." Sarah thought in dismay, not daring to even think that Donna might be even stronger than she was. That really wasn't at all likely, but Donna was using her strength to maximum advantage. She seemed quite experienced, as though she had some wrestling experience. It was enough anyway so she could keep the advantage over the inexperienced Sarah.

"Ride her, Cowgirl!" Donna chortled easily controlling Sarah's trapped body, now.

Getting humiliatingly pinned by one of her own students; how did the little snot do it? Sarah fumed. "Damn it!" She thought. "I???ll never live this down." She strained every muscle in her svelte, shapely body, but it was no use. Donna's  smaller body seemed to anticipate her every move and counter it. It was like a nightmare, that she couldn't wake up from.  

"Hey Teach! Did I tell you I made the boy???s wrestling team at my last school, before they kicked me out?"

Sarah gritted her teeth and struggled even harder, but with no greater success. She was breathless and tiring from the fruitless struggle.

"Get off me!" Sarah demanded, but her voice had lost  all its stern authority, and it almost sounded like she was pleading with Donna.  It sure sounded that way to Donna. Yesterday's fearful respect was replaced with today's contempt for perceived weakness.

"Make me Teach!" Donna retorted, with sneering confidence. "I don???t think you can do that, though, do you?"

Seeing that arrogant teenage face grinning down on her made Sarah so mad, she almost wept, especially knowing she couldn't get Donna off her. Donna leaned down closer and rubbed her chest back and forth against Sarah???s naked breasts.

"Stop that!" Sarah cried in alarm. "Don???t do that, again!"

"What are you going to do about it, if I don???t stop it?" Donna demanded, arrogantly, and she licked Sarah???s cheek in an elaborate parody.

All right you???ve had your fun. Now, let me up!" Sarah said plaintively, growing increasingly alarmed at Donna???s suggestive  aggression.

"Do you give up?"  Donna demanded.

Sarah gulped, but didn't answer. She hated admitting defeat, and had never even considered the possibility of conceding defeat to a student. She just couldn't bring herself to give in to the nasty young bully.

When Sarah didn???t answer, Donna rubbed her skinny chest against Sarah???s face. Donna had no bra under her thin tee-shirt, and Sarah felt the girl???s small boobs against her cheek and mouth. She gagged; her face flaming in mortification.

"I asked you, Teach: DO YOU GIVE UP? ANSWER ME!" Donna demanded, sternly. It was almost as if they had reversed roles. The helplessly restrained Sarah began to feel like she was the misbehaving pupil.
"N-no you little Bitch..."Sarah  tried to sound confidently defiant, but she sounded more like she was about to start crying, which wasn't far from the truth.  

The way Donna had hooked her ankles around Sarah's calves made it easy to exert considerable pressure, and painfully spread Sarah's thighs further and further apart, until the strain on the older woman's sensitive crotch became unbearable.

 With a groan, Sarah knew she was beaten.

"Oww, owww...all right  I-I give up."  Sarah gulped miserably, but Donna made no move to let her go.

"O.K O.K I said I give up. Now let me go!"

Donna snickered:  "Yeah but it didn't sound to me like you really meant it, Teach. Can't ya put some feeling into it?"

Getting mad again despite the pain, Sarah  shouted angrily "I said LET ME UP, DAMN YOU!"

"Gee, Teach! That's not convincing at all. I think you  like me on top of you. I bet it's making you wet, huh?" Donna smirked, and increased the painful pressure on Sarah's crotch, a little more. It was making Sarah's eyes wet, anyway. She was very near to tears.
 
"Why don't you be a good, little girl. Say it nice, and convince me." Donna demanded.

Still seething, but unable to bear much more of the pain, Sarah carefully controlled her voice. "I-I give up. You win. Pl- please let me up." She wanted to bite her tongue at having to say anything so mortifying.

"Am I the better woman?" Donna demanded.

"Yes, yes! If you say so." Sara conceded, still trying to keep her voice under control, but not entirely succeeding. Anything to get the little bitch off her.

 "Well say it then!"

 Sarah gritted her teeth and rasped: "Y-you're the better woman. Now let me UP!"

 Very leisurely, Donna got to her feet. A moment later Sarah stumbled to her own feet. As she did she made a furtive swipe with her arm, to brush away the incipient tears. Donna didn't miss the gesture, though. "Did I make you cry, Teach?"

 Sarah's bikini top was lying in the grass. Sarah leaned over to pick it up, but Donna quickly put her foot down on it. Sarah tugged on it, but couldn't get it free. Sarah had had enough of Donna's sick games. She straightened up "To hell with the damned thing!" She decided. "Let the bitch keep it."

Accepting defeat, Sarah turned to go into her own cottage, but Donna grabbed her, and twisted her back face to face. Once the young bully found an easy victim , she hated to let her escape. She held on to Sarah's wrist in a strong grip.

"You know Sarah, I don't think you were sincere when you said I was the better woman."
 
 Sarah trembled in fury. With a furious twist of her entire body she she tore her wrist free.

Standing toe to toe, Sarah looked down at Donna. "My God! She's six inches shorter than I am, and I must outweigh her by forty pounds. Look at that pudgy little body. I'm in terrific shape, and I must be a lot stronger.  Why am I letting this sawed off, little half-pint, bitch, bully me?"
Furious at herself, as much as at Donna, Sarah exploded. She slapped the little snot across the face as hard as she could. The slap almost knocked Donna over.

 "Owwww!"  Donna gasped and stumbled backward. "You Bitch!" She added, sounding surprised.

"I should have done that a lot sooner, you nasty brat." Sarah snapped furiously. Donna rubbed her stinging cheek, a sullen smoldering look of hatred on her face.

 "You SHOULDN'T have done that Sarah! Nobody slaps me around, and gets away with it."

 "Well welcome to the real world, Honey!" Sarah retorted, but she realized this wasn't over.
 Now what? She was still mad, but should she take the initiative, or wait to see what Donna would do next? She waited, indecisively.

Donna wasn't indecisive at all, though. She dived headfirst, into Sarah's stomach, and knocked her back against the cottage wall. Sarah felt the breath whoosh out of her lungs. When she tried to take a breath, she gasped instead. Her back felt like it was hit by a cement truck. She must do something!

Inexpertly, Sarah lunged at Donna, her arms out wide, hoping  to catch her around the waist. She was furious, and wanted to get her hands on Donna's scrawny neck. It didn't work out that way, though.

Thump! Thump! Donna hit the charging Head Mistress with her fists. Sarah had never felt a hard punch before, and was caught completely by surprise. The first fist hit her naked  left breast flattening it. The sizeable globe took a lot of flattening, too. Stopped dead in her tracks, mouth agape, Sarah grunted, and tried to cover up her big boobs. For the first time, she realized how vulnerable they were. Then, the next punch plowed into her middle, just below her naval.

Sarah doubled over, helplessly.

Donna hit the stunned older woman with a left to the face. Then a hard right plowed into Sarah's stomach again.  Her legs gave out, and she went down on one knee.  She couldn't get her breath, and had both arms wrapped around her aching stomach. Sarah had a vague idea that if a boxer was knocked off her feet, her opponent was supposed to let her get up, before hitting her again. Donna had no such idea. When Sarah looked up, a hard bony knee thumped into her chin. It knocked her over backward.

As hurt as she was, Sarah knew she couldn't just lie there. Before she could do anything else, though, Donna  grabbed her neck and pulled her up on her feet, again. It wasn't certain Sarah could have gotten there on her own, anyway. Before Sarah could get her balance. Donna gave her a shove. Then Donna went to work on Sarah's stomach for real. She drove at least four punches into the bigger woman's belly, before Sarah could defend herself.

Mewling and gasping, Sarah fell down on her hands and knees. The world was spinning around, crazily. She gagged, sick to her stomach. She tried to crawl away, but Donna grabbed her by the hair, and jerked her up on her knees. Sarah screeched, as Donna nearly tore her hair out by the roots.

Donna held Sarah like that by the hair long enough to kick her in the kidneys a couple of times. Then she pulled Sarah up on her feet with a full-nelson, Sarah was too weak and dizzy to escape.  Donna shoved her forward, building up some momentum, before she rammed Sarah face first, and boob first, into the cottage wall. Next day, Sarah had a big bump on her forehead, and her brasts were bruised and scratched.

Donna released the full-nelson, and turned Sarah around facing her again. Sarah didn't resist, just stood there, swaying, a dazed vacant look on her face. Her eyes looked a little crossed.  Donna bitch-smacked the Head Mistress a few times to get her attention.

"Wha...noaa..please..." Sarah moaned. That satisfied Donna, that she had Sarah's full attention.

Even after all the payback, she'd already inflicted, Donna was still fuming about that slap to her own face. She sailed into the tall voluptuous, near naked, Head Mistress, arms working like  pistons. The first fist sank into her stomach, about up to the wrist. Sarah folded over almost double. A left right combination hit her on either side of her jaw. Then a left hit her in the eye and a right squashed her nose. It probably wasn't broken, but blood spurted from her nostrils.

Then Donna leaped straight up in the air; her hard head smashed Sarah's chin. Sarah saw stars, and with a moan, slumped over in the grass on her back.
 
Breathing a little hard, Donna looked down. Sarah wasn't moving at all; her head was twisted to one side. She was moaning softly, but her eyes were closed. Donna toed her in the side, but Sarah's only response was a louder moan.

 "Oops! I guess I knocked the silly bitch out cold." Donna muttered, without any trace of remorse. In fact, Donna was quite proud of herself for actually knocking a much bigger woman out cold.

"Well! I was wondering what her pussy looked like, wasn't I? No time like the present."

 Donna knelt down and slid Sarah's bikini bottom down her long, athletically curved legs. Donna snickered, as she inspected Sarah's delicate, unadorned pubic mound.

"Ho, ho! Well, I do declare, Miss Uptight Jensen's got a full brazilian. Who'd 'ov thought?"

Donna looked around, saw the old apple tree on the lawn nearby. The nasty girl wadded up the bikini bottom, and threw it up at the tree.

"Right on!" She chortled, as the garment caught in an upper branch, where it was plainly visible, even to cars driving past the two cottages. Donna picked up Sarah's bikini bra, and threw that after the bottom.

"Another bullseye! Gosh I'm good! Hee, hee! That should start a few rumors, if she leaves it there."

Then Donna saw Sarah's bag by the chair. She looked inside and found Sarah's keys. She walked around to the front of Sarah's cottage, and checked the front door. It was locked. Then she went around to the back door. It had an automatic lock. "Great!" Donna pressed the button to set it, then tossed Sarah's keys inside, and shut the door, locking it.

Then whistling happily, Donna went back into her own cottage.
"All that exercise made me kind of hungry. Guess it's time for lunch." Donna made herself a sandwich, and ate it with great relish. As she was finishing her lunch, she heard a noise, and looked out. She noticed the next door cottage window was broken, and the sash raised. Just then, Sarah came out. dressed in jeans, loose, long sleeved shirt and sneakers. She got a ladder from the shed in back, and Donna watched the dignified Doctor Jensen climbing the ladder to retrieve her bikini.
"Should I? Oh why not?"

 Donna opened the window and yelled at Sarah: "Hey, Teach! Get me a couple of apples while you're up there, will you?"
Sarah gritted her teeth and kept climbing, without answering.
As Sarah twisted around on the ladder to reach the bikini bra, her head turned  toward the other cottage. OH joy! The Head Mistress had a black eye.

"Gee Teach! That's some shiner. Did you run into a door?"

'GO FUCK YOURSELF,  BITCH!" Was the loudly snarled response.

"Oh my goodness! That's terribly shocking language for a Head Mistress to use." Donna called back, as she shut the window. The day had turned out to be far from boring, after all.


Mom and Aunt Harriet.

 This is just a fictional story fragment that came to me one evening, many years ago, while watching a dull television program.  I???m sure if I tried to expand it, I???d just ruin it, so I???ll share it, as is:
I got out of school early that day, because of a  teacher???s conference.  I guess that???s why they weren???t expecting me home.   When I came up the porch steps, I heard strange sounds from the living room.  For some reason, instead of going right in, I peeked through the open window, and got the shock of my life.  My mother and my Aunt Harriet were fighting, and they were both in their underwear, too.  I got this strange, half-excited, half-sick feeling in the pit of my stomach seeing my Mom like that especially because it was pretty clear, Mom was getting the tar wailed out of her.

I was just in time to see Aunt Harriet haul off and slap Mom across the face. It must have been nearly all over by then, because my Mom just sort of corkscrewed, and fell face down, half across the living room sofa.  Her knees were still on the rug and her heiny was sticking up in the air. 

Aunt Harriet pounded her fists on Mom???s broad, white back a few times, but Mom didn???t move.  I could tell from the little sobs, I heard, that she was still awake, though.  I guess she was afraid to get up.  I noticed the way her big, bottom cheeks shivered though her pink, nylon panties   I knew she???d gone to the beauty parlor that morning, because she dropped me off at school on the way, but now her beautiful dark hair was all sweaty and stuck to the white flesh above her frilly bra, in wet little curls.

Aunt Harriet stood up straight, and put her hands on her hips.  ???Okay Viv, fork them over!  You know what I told you, that I'd strip you naked after I got finished mopping up the floor with you! Well do you want to strip, yourself, or do you want me to do it for you.???
Mom turned her head, and choked.  ???Oh Harriet, please, no????

Aunt Harriet took a threatening step toward her, and Mom yelped.  ???Okay, okay!???  She got up from the sofa.  She had to lean on it for support.

I couldn???t believe my eyes.  Here, was my big strong mother, who always bossed everybody in the family around, taking orders from skinny, little Aunt Harriet, my Dad???s mousy, little, younger sister, who never dared say ???boo??? to anyone.  Aunt Harriet must have given her some beating, to scare my Mom, that bad.

Mom must have been a foot taller, and seemed  twice as broad, but she stood there in front of Aunt Harriet like a scared little girl called to the Principal???s Office.  Of course, little girl???s don???t have big, heavy breasts like that.  I couldn???t help notice the way those big breasts heaved up and down, in her lacy bra, every time, she tried to gulp back her tears.  It didn???t do any good, because the tears kept running down her beautiful face in streams, anyway.  Her face was all pink and white from where Aunt Harriet must have smacked her around quite a lot.

???All right! Take them off!???   Aunt Harriet snapped.  Mom gulped again, and reached behind her back, to unsnap her lacy, pink bra.  She almost fell, but Aunt Harriet grabbed her arm for support.  Mom hung her head, when her big heavy breasts came free from the bra, and her face got even redder when she handed the bra over to my aunt.
???Keep going, Vivian!???  Aunt Harriet snapped again, and her voice was cold and icy.

???Please Harriet!???  Mom whimpered, but my aunt raised her hand as if she was going to slap Mom again, and Mom leaned over and slid those lacy pink panties down her long, white legs.  Then she handed them to my aunt, too.  I was too embarrassed to look right at her, but I got a glimpse of thick, dark curls between her legs.

Aunt Harriet took the panties, with a smug look on her face.  Then, she grabbed Mom???s ear and pulled her face down close to her own. Mom???s big boobs were naked now, and they jiggled all over her chest.
Aunt Harriet snarled right in her ear.  ???You remember this, the next time you think you can boss me around, Vivian, or next time you???ll get a lot worse!  You got that? Next time I'll take a hairbrush to that big bottom of yours, and really blister it good.??? 

Mom made an involuntary start at covering her behind with her hands, and without her panties, I couldn't help notice then, what a really spectacular butt, Mom had
???Yes Harriet! I???ll remember! You???re the boss from now on!???  Mom blubbered.
At that point I must have made some noise, because they both looked over toward the window, and I barely had time to get out of there before I got caught.

 I waited down the block a while and then made a lot of noise coming in the house. By then both Mom and Aunt Viv were dressed.  Mom still looked pretty shaky though, and her eyes were all red, so you could tell, she'd been crying. I couldn't help wondering if Aunt Harriet let Mom put on underwear, or if the dress was all she had on.
The End.