SQUEEZE PLAY A catfight Update: 17/05/1998 to misc4 Sandi was beginning to have second thoughts as she sat alone in one of the spare bedrooms of the extravagant beach house. The low moans emanating from the living room down the hall certainly didn't help to allay her nerves. And the ocean breeze drifting through the open window was of no use in cooling her off; although she was clad in only a t-shirt and gym shorts she was sweating profusely. Her dirty blond hair was damp, and a sheen of perspiration highlighed the calf muscles of her tanned legs. In fact, her t-shirt was soaked which was somewhat ironic, as that was how she was noticed in the first place. And Sandi was used to being noticed. At the tender age of nineteen, she had already learned that the allure of her body, in particular her heavy but high breasts, could turn otherwise sensible men into drooling buffoons. Sandi had used that to her personal and financial advantage, often entering (and winning) the numerous wet T-shirt contests sponsered by the many honky-tonk bars that lined the boardwalk of the marina. It was, in fact, a significant supplement to the meager income she earned as a receptionist at the insurance company. And on a certain level, Sandi enjoyed being the center of attention when competing in these contests. The previous Saturday night, Sandi had triumphed in the weekly wet T- shirt contest sponsored by a particularly seedy bar, The Corkscrew, off of Front Street. After tucking the $100 check for first place into her jeans and changing her shirt, she ambled over to the bar, enjoying the inevitable ogling from the bikers and fishermen that hung out there. As she sat on a stool sipping on her rum and coke, a man slid onto the stool next to her. She was used to being hit on in places like this, but this man was different. She could tell at first glance that he was money; his clothes were obviously expensive and the Rolex on his wrist was definitely real. And he exhuded a certain confidence she found appealing. After introducing himself as Jack, and buying her another drink, he asked her how much she made that night. Upon being told "$100", Jack shook his head in dismay. "I must say that a woman as fine as you surely deserves more in the way of compensation then one c-note." "Thanks" Sandi replied, "but that's pretty much what all these joints pay for first prize." She sighed. "Bummer huh?" Jack agreed, leaned closer to her, and in a lower voice he stated that he and his friends sponsored contests in which the winner received $2,000. "$2,000!" she exclaimed. "Why would you pay $2,000 to the winner of a wet T- shirt contest? Nothing personal, but are you nuts?" "I never said it was for a wet T-shirt contest" Jack calmly replied. "The contests we sponsor are a truer test of a woman's, you should pardon the expression, mammary endowments." Now Sandi was really intrigued. "Go on, I'm listening." Jack leaned in even closer so he could be heard clearly over the booming sound system of the bar. "What I'm about to tell you may strike you as odd, but please hear me out until I've finished relating it to you, OK?" Sandi nodded. "My friends and I sponsor contests that provide the ultimate test as to the superiority of a woman's breasts. We call these contests the Squeeze Play. Essentially, it works like this. Two apparently equally endowed women face off topless in the midde of the room. A belt is secured around their waists to insure that they cannot escape each other. They place their hands on each other's breasts and start squeezing. The woman who can make her opponent concede is considered to be the better woman and receives $2,000 in cash. The loser receives $100 for her efforts. That's it. Usually it's over in less than five minutes." Jack took a sip from his drink as Sandi stared at him wide-eyed. "So, in other words, you and your friends pay money to watch women fight" Sandi finally responded. "Not at all" Jack replied. "These are not fights. No punching, hairpulling, biting, or anything like that is allowed. In fact, nothing is allowed except breast squeezing. Its pretty safe, really." "Where and when would this contest take place, assuming I decided to try it out?" Sandi asked, her heart beating a little faster than it was a few minutes previously. "Next Monday night at an associate's beachfront home about fifty miles from here. Usually we schedule two or three different contests in an evening, so you might have to wait around a little. But we'll make your stay before and after the contest very comfortable." $2,000 was a lot of money, and it didn't seem too dangerous Sandi thought, so against her better judgement she agreed to compete, and Jack gave her directions to the house. Now Sandi sat by the open window of the spare bedroom, waiting for the first contest to end, trying to convice herself that she hadn't gotten herself into something she would soon regret. Her reverie was interuppted by a scream that pierced through the closed bedroom door, followed by a women's voice sobbing "Stop! I give! I give damnit!". The smattering of applause and cheers that followed the woman's concession drowned out any further cries. A knock on the door interuppted her thoughts. Jack poked his head in to inform Sandi that "it was time". Sandi rose from the chair, exhaled a deep breath, and followed Jack down the hall into the living room. The living room was large, with chairs ringing the perimiter and a large open space in the middle of the room which Sandi surmised would be the arena. Much to her surprise she noticed that among the twenty or so guests were a half- dozen women. For some reason, she had assumed that all the spectators would be men. They were all sipping wine or cocktails and seemed to be having a grand old time. From a door on the opposite side of the living room, another girl was led out. Like Sandi, she appeared to be in her late teens or early twenties, with dark shoulder lenghth hair, a surprisingly innocent looking face, clad in denim cutoffs and a loose T-shirt that unsuccessfully hid the twin melons underneath. And like Sandi she also appeared nervous, probably having the same second thoughts that Sandi was having. Sandi and the other girl were brought to the center of the room. Jack stood between them, a hand resting on each girl's shoulder and made the introductions. "Friends, on my right we have the lovely Sandi. On my left is Maggie. As you can see, neither one of them has been with us before. Sandi, Maggie, would you please take off your shirts so our guests can fully see you." With the same sense of pride she felt at the wet T-shirt contests, Sandi pulled the T-shirt up and over her head and proudly displayed her d-cup orbs, sitting high up and topped with large pink nipples. Sandi turned to check out Maggie and, to her amazement, Maggie appeared to be equally endowed but with larger and browner aureola. "Okay people, please place your bets in the basket going around the room" Jack instructed. As the basket circulated around the room, Sandi and Maggie warily glanced at each other. To Sandi's amazement, Maggie, in a voice almost as soft as a whisper, said "Hi". Reflexively, Sandi said "Hi" back. At that moment, the absurdity of the situation sunk into Sandi's head. Here she was, about to try and rip the tits off a girl she did not know, whom she bore no animosity towards, whom she might even like if she got to know her. She guessed that Maggie might be thinking the same thing. Given a choice, at that moment Sandi thought she might back out of the whole thing. "But I'm too far into this to back out now" she thought to herself. The basket had finished circling the room, and as the crowd quieted down in anticipation of the upcoming action, Jack fastend an elasticised belt around the waists of Sandi and Maggie. Their bodies and their fates were now locked together. "Okay girls, let me go over the rules one more time" Jack stated. "When I give the signal, the contest begins. You may do anything with your hands, but not fists, to each other's breasts to make your opponent submit. That includes squeezing, pinching, gouging, and scratching." Maggie exhaled a sigh, and Sandi noticed her hands were shaking. "Ladies......................begin!" Sandi clamped her hands on Maggies orbs and began squeezing. Almost simultaneously, Sandi felt a searing pain rip through her chest, a pain unlike any she'd ever felt before. She moaned in agony, but through the pain she was pleased to see that Maggie was also moaning. Sandi squeezed even harder in an attempt to mash Maggie's tits and Maggie returned the favor. Their moans quickly turned into sobs. Sandi looked into Maggie's face which had turned beet red, with tears rolling down her cheeks and knew she was probably looking into a mirror that reflected her own face. In the crowd, a woman yelled out "C'mon Sandi, ruin her destroy her!" Inspired by this declaration of support, Sandi sunk her nails into Maggie's breasts and pulled down hard. Four crimson welt lines instantly appeared on each breast, rimmed with beads of blood. "Oh my god" Maggie wailed, and then imitated the move, slashing into Sandi's breast with her nails. And because Maggie's nails were longer and sharper, the effect was greater. To Sandi's horror, several blood streaked lines marked her once proud breasts. One of the women in the audience turned to Jack, who was seated next to her. "My god, Jack, didn't you have the girls clip their nails before the match." Sheepishly, Jack confessed that with all the preparations he had to make that evening he must have overlooked that detail. "Maybe I should stop it before they really scar each other" Jack declared. The woman sighed. "Jack, you should have thought of that before the contest. Its too late now, they're already scarring each other." " And to be honest" she said, licking her lips,"it does make the action more exciting." Blood oozed out of the gashes on each women's breasts, covering the fingers that were attempting to create further damage. Nothing existed for either girl now except for absorbing and dealing out pain. Their foreheads were now resting against each other as their fingers worked savagely below, continuing to gouge and slash. Sandi worked her hands down to Maggie's nipples, where she pulled and twisted in jerky motions. Maggie continued to use her nails like a switchblade, gouging deeper and adding additional scratch marks, effectively turning Sandi's breasts into a crimson road map. Sandi sobbed bitterly. Her pride and joys were being destroyed. She was tempted to give up, but through her pain she realized the damage was already done. If she was going to carry these scars with her for the rest of her life, then she would damn well win that $2,000. Meanwhile, as if chanting a mantra, Maggie continue to sob "Oh God, Oh God" as she slashed away at her rival. By now, most of the crowd was on its feet. Jack had staged many contests before, but none as savage and brutal as this one. It made the first contest of the evening seem like an arm wrestling match. With renewed vigor, Sandi worked on Maggie's nipples, sinking her nails into the tips. Maggie attempted to back away, but the belt held her in place. Sandi realized she was on the verge of victory and squeezed the nipples harder.The pain in Sandi's breast subsided as Maggies full weight leaned against her. To Sandi's astonishment and delight, she realized that Maggie had fainted on her feet. She had won! As the crowd cheered (at least the ones that had bet on her) Sandi looked down at her breasts and saw the blood dripping out of the open gashes. She swooned and fainted, falling to the floor on top of Maggie who was still fastened to her. Dizzy with lust and the excitement of the concluded contest, the woman seated next to Jack leaned against him and murmured "Jack you've outdone yourself here. I don't think you'll ever be able to stage a contest to top this one." As Jack gazed at the two unconcious girls, lying prone in a tangled heap at his feet, he smiled at the naievete of his friend.