In the months after the title fight, chair Janice Mearns grew fond of repeating that the CATS Committee could have made a tidy fortune had they been auctioning tickets for the much-anticipated showdown between Helen Brodie, Cardugan’s reigning sex-fight queen, and the challenger, new girl Mhairi MacGregor. Such naked commercialism would hardly have been in keeping with the Cardugan tradition however; and tradition meant everything at this elite girl’s college located in an idyllic, isolated spot on the west coast of Scotland.
In the event the committee relented a little, agreeing to let senior girls draw lots to watch the contest, which as usual would held after lights out in the cabin in the woods that most girls referred to simply as ‘the Den’. The fact that it was a full moon that evening would make the girls passage through the woods to get there so much easier.
The isolated cabin was the ideal venue for staging the regular CATS contests. Although it took perhaps twenty five minutes to walk there in the dark, as far as Janice was aware no teachers had ever ventured into the woods after light’s out, which meant that the chances of being disturbed before dawn were negligible. Nevertheless the girls still posted sentries outside as a precaution. In the unlikely event of a fire alarm they would have far more to worry about, but they would cross that bridge if they ever came to it.
Arriving slightly ahead of the main party to light the oil lanterns and get the stove going to take the autumn chill off the room, Janice reminded herself of the list of girls who had be fortunate enough to be picked to watch that evening’s unprecedented title contest.
In addition to herself, presiding as chair and chief adjudicator, all the committee members would be present: Kirstie Adamson and Lydia Chen (both also acting as judges), Alison Cramond, Jacqui Spiteri, and Shona McVeigh.
Then there were the two girl’s seconds. After Susan Walkerburn’s scandalous switching of her allegiance to Helen’s bitter rival, the sex fight queen had selected Amita Kaur, a mid-ranking sex-fighter and the school’s only Sikh boarder, to be her hand-maiden tonight. In an interesting twist, Amita and Susan were themselves rostered to fight each other for the first time, competing for a vacant top rank place just a week from today. Completing Janice’s list were the six senior girls who had successfully drawn lots, taking the cabin’s total compliment that night to sixteen (including contestants).
The first thing Janice noticed as always when she entered the cabin was the gym-like aroma of stale female sweat overlaying the vague odour of dampness and decay. The room inside was Spartan looking and sparsely furnished, with several lanterns suspended from the ceiling and simple wooden bench seats spaced along the walls.
Pride of place went however to the large, rectangular gym mat in the centre of the floor that the girls fought on. Having been liberated from the PE block some years before it was somewhat faded now and, although the blue rubberised surface was scrubbed down thoroughly after each contest, the mat still smelt unmistakably of woman-scent, a permanent olfactory record of the countless sexual struggles that it had witnessed over the years.
Perhaps the only other notable feature of the Den were the two small box rooms adjoining the main cabin which had been converted into changing rooms from which both contestants would emerge, fully undressed, in order to take their positions at opposite ends of the fighting mat.
The Den was now packed to capacity with all the seats around the walls taken and the spectators babbled excitedly as they waited for the contestants to emerge from their separate changing rooms, attended by their hand-maidens. Janice knew that both girls had supporters present tonight and she felt certain that the support offered would be extremely vocal, not least because every single girl in the room had probably wagered more money than she could afford to lose on tonight’s outcome.
As the anticipation in the room reached fever pitch Janice finished conferring with her fellow judges, each of whom would be required to get up very close to the action in order to adjudicate the match effectively and fairly.
They all knew that for an orgasm to count as a submission a majority of the judges had to agree that one girl’s vagina is fully in control of its rival. However, as Janice sagely reminded her colleagues, with two contestants as evenly matched as Helen Brodie and Mhairi MacGregor, extra special care would be required in monitoring which girl started to orgasm first, and whether she had forced her opponent unequivocally into the control position and pinned her in that position for the obligatory count of ten.
The excited chatter hushed as the changing room doors swung open and all eyes turned to focus on the toned, athletic bodies of Helen Brodie and Mhairi MacGregor as they entered the room, flanked by their seconds, and walked steadily towards the mat without acknowledging each other’s presence, their facial expressions intent with jaws firmly set, but otherwise inscrutable.
As the girls approached, all eyes were unavoidably drawn to the two incredibly hairy pussies which were about to lock up and do battle. Due to their self-imposed washing bans both girls’ bushes looked positively malevolent and intimidating; their abundant pubes already matted into dense thickets due to the waxing effect of several days build-up of natural oils and secretions. Some members of the audience also commented that the intensity of woman scent pervading the cabin interior went up several notches at this point before the fight had even started.
Then, as Mhairi and Helen silently assumed kneeling positions at opposite ends of the fighting mat, their cold eyes finally met and they began the proper, customary stare-down. What was also apparent was the level of emnity that had developed recently between the two hand-maidens Amita Kaur and Susan Walkerburn, who were both standing behind their charges, staring at each other so aggressively that it seemed as if they would have liked the date of their own match to be brought forward.
In the meantime however, Janice Mearns had started officiating the proceedings in her best ‘Jean Brodie’ style of declamation.
“Alright ladies, as you know we are all here this evening to settle the matter of honour occasioned by the unambiguous sexual challenge issued by Ms Brodie to Ms MacGregor on Wednesday October 19th, while in the midst of a fracas in the PE block showers.”
“Being the incumbent sex-fighting queen, if she loses tonight Ms Brodie will forfeit said title to Ms MacGregor. If on the other hand Miss MacGregor loses tonight, she will revert to bottom of the league rankings, which is the customary position under CATS rules when new girls join the academy.”
Keen to commence the crucial pre-fight ritual as soon as possible, Helen and Mhairi were barely listening to Janice Mearns by now. Leaning back on her arms comfortably Helen began first by opening her legs and flexing her hips upwards so that her entire vulva was visible to her opponent for the first time. The new girl reciprocated immediately so that both could now finally see exactly what they would be going up against in sexual combat very shortly after the final preliminaries were complete.
Mhairi barely stifled the urge to whistle softly: she was staring into the mouth of certainly the hairiest, possibly the longest pussy slit she had ever encountered in a girl of her own age.
Lurking beneath a dense barricade of pubic hair Helen’s swollen, reddish-pink labia were finally visible to her rival, glistening with the protective juices she had already started secreting before the contest began. Although the pearl inside remained hidden, Helen’s clitoral hood was clearly visible, beaded with drops of pussy sweat and Mhairi spent an idle moment trying to calculate by sight alone the size of her own clitoral hood relative to its rival.
Mhairi could also now fully appreciate how Helen’s thick, dark cunt hair completely fringed her long vulva on both sides like a protective stockade, joining up again at her perineum and clustering around Helen’s pert-looking anus, before spreading up the crack between her broad, very shapely buttocks where finally it tapered out.
There was no denying how powerful and intimidating Helen Brodie’s cunt looked under the light of the lanterns hanging overhead Mhairi mused, while smugly reassuring herself that the bitch was sure to be finding the view from the opposite side of the mat equally intimidating right now.
“Both of you understand the rules already,” Janice intoned, “but I will remind everyone present that, for an orgasm to count as a submission, a majority of the three scoring judges – that’s Ms Peterson, Ms Chen and myself – have to agree that one girl is fully in control of the other girl…. And I think we all know what that means in practice, ladies.” [There was a collective snigger around the room now, given that all girls present knew exactly what it meant in practice.]
“Do remember that, as this is a ‘sudden death’ contest decided by a single submission fall, no rounds, or breaks will be permitted. If either lady wishes to give up for any reason during the match, she should slap the mat clearly three times; however in this instance she will be considered to have submitted and conceded the match to her opponent.”
While Janice continued to drone on, Helen had ample opportunity to study her opponent’s big, intimidating pussy. Mhairi’s labia were a lighter shade of pink than her own but just as thick and long, and exuded power. Although it would be hard to measure their respective actual slit lengths until they finally locked up, Helen suspected that her own might be slightly longer than Mhairi’s, but not by much.
However Helen also couldn’t help noticing, as some more observant girls in the audience were indeed speculating already, that even though their clitoral hoods looked broadly similar in shape and size, overall Mhairi’s labial lips were a little more pronounced and flap-like than her own. The sex-fight queen quietly reassured herself that this might mean nothing in practice however as, once battle was in full flow and their labia fully stimulated and engorged, both girls could easily open wide to each other, and handle plenty of mutual vaginal sucking and penetration, before any minor – and as yet untested – variances in length and girth became an issue.
As was the case with Helen’s own bush, Mhairi’s thick dark brown pubic hair also fringed her entire vulva and anus before growing up the gap between her beautifully rounded bum cheeks where it finally tapered into soft downy hair around the midpoint.
Suddenly the time for mutual observation was over as Janice Mearns finished her brief peroration and turned to address both contestants. “Right ladies, are you all set or do you have any questions. Helen?”
Without a single word the reigning sex-fight queen inclined her head coolly to indicate that she was ready to fight. “Mhairi?”
Without taking her eyes off her opponent for a moment the challenger also nodded slowly, lifting her pelvis clean off the floor as she flexed her glistening, hungry-looking vulva, angling it towards her opponent in a primal display of animalistic provocation.
As Helen lifted her own fighting cunt high in defiance, the girls in the audience could see the first wet patches already forming on the mat where both girls had been reclining. The very first lock-up between these two bitterest of alpha female rivals would be a “right big, proper wet one”, some girls started whispering excitedly to their neighbours.
“Then take your starting positions please, ladies.”
To Be Continued in Chapter 12.