About the Author
I grew up in a violent world. As far back as I can remember, I had always been fighting. Whether it was against foster brothers or sisters, kids at school, and even against my last foster mother. I channeled all of my rage and hate into fighting.
As I grew older and wiser, after more than one night in jail, I decided I needed a different outlet. I turned to reading and movies. But with everything I read or everything I watched, I longed for the female characters to fight. A primal desire to be the best. When I discovered the internet and the plethora of stories about female fighting, I was hooked.
I have always been a fan of westerns. The six guns, the horses, the hard life, the saloon girls. But what I didn’t see was the women as the focal point of the movie or story. After talking with some other authors of catfight stories, I decided to write my own. Build a world where the women are the key characters. I have tried to add in historical figures and their myths in some cases into the story. Since joining the Free Catfight Forum and meeting wonderful people, many of my friends there have become characters.
I do plan to write some other stories, some lighter, some much darker about my life and the trials and tribulations I have gone through. I hope you all enjoy.
Ahna Brown’s Stories
The Misadventures of the Cats Claw Series
Ewa and Francine rushed and slammed together. Hands grabbed at hair as large breasts slapped together. Ewa twirled her fingers in the red and black locks of the green-skinned woman. Feet started stamping down over feet in order to trip the other. Francine’s right foot slammed down hard on Ewa’s left, causing the busty woman from Earth to cry out and stumble. The pair crashed to the dirt and quickly locked legs and started to roll. All of the women around started cheering for their captain. Bri inched down from the cargo bay to watch her lover and the woman from her planet fight it out.
In a high-rise hotel suite, the shower poured over Ewa and Bri as they fucked under the water. The dark-haired captain pressed her now yellow-haired first officer and lover against the tile wall as she pumped her hips in. Their large breasts compressed as wet skin caused the large mounds of flesh to slide against the other pair. Tongues eagerly explored the other’s mouth, caressing, twisting and wrestling with the other.
She tried to use her thighs to pry my legs open, but as they opened, I twisted and rolled us with me on top. I grabbed her right leg and moved it over my shoulder. I pushed my wet pussy to hers and she moaned out loudly. I got to my knees and started thrusting hard against her wet folds. Again, clits met in a violent fencing match but I had the advantage and pushed mine further into her twat. Vanessa reached up and pulled on my big tits but her grip was weakening. Her body started to convulse and she writhed under me as she came again. The bucking and squirming soon had in a frenzy and we traded cum back and forth. Her leg fell off my shoulder and I collapsed on top of her. Our big tits making a SPLAT as they compressed.
Wild West Wildcats Series
My mother threw the shirt she was holding at the blonde, who fired but missed and my mother tackled her to the stream. Both were only dressed in simple cotton dresses that were immediately soaked to their skin. Over and over they thrashed in the water, pulling hair, slapping at faces and even pulling at their dresses. The gunshot had alerted the Union soldiers and a few rushed over to where we all were and jumped into the water to pry my mother and the blonde apart. The two women were now topless and their chests sported scratches. They kicked and flailed at the other as the men separated them.
A sheen of sweat from the fire and body to body contact, formed over their skin. Streaks of dirt adorned their magnificent bodies. They clashed together again and went down rolling in from the dirt to the grass. Again, Lucie opened the redhead’s legs but this time their flowers were ready. Moist and inviting, the two womanhood’s met in a clash of sopping folds. The moaned at the first touch of their labia and started rough and energetic trib as hands held hair for control and large breasts ground together. They rolled slower now, when each was on top they ground down and the girl on the bottom bucked up. Clits became unsheathed and pushed past warring lips to slash and parry like two swords.
The coos and moans from lips were getting louder as the sexfight got fiercer. Hips slapped together as each woman tried to pry the other’s thighs open. Bella was able to roll on top and stay there. Her rump flexed as she pushed her womanhood towards her rivals. Kristina groaned as her thigh slowly opened more to the busty blonde. Bella’s right hand shot out and pressed down on Kristina’s throat as she pumped her sex in. They fleshy flowers parted open, slick with arousal from the constant womanly contact. The small flesh swords unsheathed and sought the others. Kristina twisted her hips from below and her clit stabbed into the flesh folds of Bella. The blonde threw her head back in a loud groan of pleasure.
We charged again and the momentum had us stumble out the barn and into the wooden horse’s trough, with both of us plunging under before the trough broke and we fell out into a new muddy ground. Hands re-gripped hair as our large breasts pancaked together and pushed out our sides. Our legs snaked around the other and we rolled in the muck and mire. Mud covered us from head to toe and if someone would have come and found us, they would not have been able to tell us apart. We kept rolling until our backs met dry dirt and we worked our way to our knees. Mollie grabbed my throat and squeezed. I thought I was a goner and swung out with my right fist and it hit her just below her left ear. Then she crumpled to the ground with me falling on top.
“Let me know when you’ve had enough,” Diane huffed out.
“Same goes for you cow turd,” Ahna answered in a breathy response.
“Ohhhh!” The two women groaned together.
“Oh no you did not just hit me,” Ahna exclaimed.
“Why you bitch, you!” Diane cried out.
“I don’t have nor will I ever have a mistress, unlike that cow, Bella you please at night, whore,” Ewa shot back. “She wasn’t woman enough to stand up to Kristina, just like you are not woman enough to beat me.”
“BITCH!” Sabrina cried out and rushed at her rival.
The two women came together in a wild melee of swinging arms and kicking legs. Neither looked to be trained fist fighter but they did manage to land a shot here or there. But it didn’t take long for fingers to comb through thick hair, dark and light and start to pull. Each woman remained on her feet as heads were pulled back and forth. Sabrina used the nails of her left hands to rake them down Ewa’s pretty face. I winced as I heard the woman from Europe scream. Ewa grabbed the nose and lips of the blonde from Georgia and gouged her nails in. Sabrina let out a shriek that could have woken the dead. Each pushed away from the other and hands went to faces to check. Each hand came away with blood on it. They rushed at each other again.
When Maria hit Nettie with her body, the momentum sent the pair rolling together naked in the grass. Their massive tits were pressed so tightly together, it looked like to balloons about to pop. Hands fell into tangled and knotted hair as the mature voluptuous women went at it like cats. Maria rolled on top and grabbed Nettie by the throat and started to squeeze. The black woman coughed out and tried to buck the Mexican woman off of her. When that didn’t work, Nettie grabbed the swinging breasts and tried to crush them in her fingers. Still, Maria didn’t let go. Nettie was starting to see black but she reached down with her left hand and grabbed the thick black pubic mound of Maria and pulled. The Mexican screamed in agony and tried to get off the black women but Nettie held her tightly. They worked their way to their knees and Maria grabbed a handful of Nettie’s black bush as she pushed the black woman’s right breast to her mouth and she bit down. Nettie cried out but pushed Maria’s tit to her mouth and chomped on the mound of flesh. Tears streamed down the two woman’s faces as they bit breasts and pulled out clumps of their matted pubic hair.
Lisa lunged forward, her hands in claws aimed at Ashley’s bouncing breasts. Ashley grabbed back and the pair push their arms out straight as fingers knead tits like bread dough. The overabundance of flesh oozed through greedy fingers. Hands gripped and then repositioned fingers for better grips. Ashley latched onto the long nipples of her mother’s breasts and twisted. Lisa screamed out and grasped her own daughter’s long nubs and pulled. The screams echoed in the room and were so loud, it made the other’s ears ring. They shook the massive mounds by the nipples, causing each to cry out in pain. The pain became too much and they let go and leaned back on their knees, each massaging wounded breasts. Eyes met and they growled and lunged again, but this time for hair. The hurt orbs slapped together, causing each to cry out. They teetered in their knees and tipped over. Legs locked up as thighs gripped thighs and a slow roll was started. Spit and bites at faces were exchanged as they rolled from one side of the room to the other. They pulled the other up to knees and then feet, still yanking on hair. Lisa slammed her daughter against wall and pressed in.
Now Diane tossed her long dark hair back from her face. They gripped arms tight and moved one another around and around trying to force each other back against the railing. Yanking and tugging they misjudged their location and hit the edge of the steps tumbling down head over heels to the landing. A gasp came from all the saloon patrons. On the landing, Kat shook her head to clear the cobwebs. She saw Diane starting to get up and lunged at her wrapping both arms around the woman’s waist and driving her backwards into the railing. The wooden railing cried out and split apart sending both of the over the edge and down another 8 feet onto a table which splintered apart dumping the two fighters onto the floor.
Chapter Written by Diane Smith
We fought with our hands, with our claws. We were not mother and daughter anymore. It was my fight for survival. We punched, clawed and bite each other something fierce and rolled in the dirt. Our shirts were torn open and then off. We grabbed our breasts, trying to tear them off. I just remembered every time she tied me so my daddy could whip me and I kept fighting her. I did not realize it was done until the Cowboys pulled me off her….
We lunged and came together grabbing upper arms, trying to power the other over. When she said “The Indian way” I took it as we were going to wrestle. She powered me back against a stack of bags of flour. My back bent some so I pushed on her chin to get her off. We separated slightly and came together again. We started to use our legs to try to trip the other. The awkward dance had us bumping into the piled bags, only to bounce off and continue. I managed to get my right foot behind her left ankle and she faltered. I surged forward, taking us down to the wood floor. We wrestled for control with more and more of our bodies touching.