Fyre’s Fight Journal — Chapter 7: A Feisty Fiesta by FyreCracka

It’s been a almost a week since my battle with Kelsey and I’m still sore, but I feel good enough that I put the “Cat” pin on before I go to out for the day. I go about my day running errands and my daily routine almost forgetting I’m even wearing it. It’s mid afternoon when it happens.

I’m leaving the grocery store with a full cart, going through the automated sliding door. When my cart and another shopper’s almost collide as she is going in. We both begin to apologize for not seeing each other. Then at the same time, we both stop as we notice each other’s ‘Cat’ pin. The whole conversation stops and there is a brief moment of silence between us.

Immediately I begin to size her up and I assume she is doing the same but it’s hard in our winter jackets. I can tell that we are close to the same age but she is taller and looks thinner.

I break the silence first. Heart racing I ask “Are we doin’ this?”

“We are. ” she says tersely, “when… now?… maybe around back?”

The prospect of having a brawl behind the local grocery store is exhilarating. Then I look down at my cart full of just purchased perishables. “I wish…” I answer pointing to my cart.

“Tomorrow night?…my husband likes watching anyway”.  She looks down at my wedding ring and back up. “Does yours?”

With our ‘game faces’ off, we return to being cordial. I smile and reply “more than you can imagine”.

Returning the smile she says “I bet I can…they seem to love it, almost as much as we do, don’t they?….oh, I’m Beth by the way”.

“I’m Kelli, but I go by Fyre on the website… So where do want to do this?” I ask.

She fumbles through her hand bag for a pen and paper. ” l have a ‘rec room’ with some mats down, I’d prefer to take you on there- here’s the address…being the host I’ll log it all into the website”. She writes her information down on a small piece of paper and hands it to me. “Say, around seven?…what kind of match do you want?”

I answer “Seven is great. How about a friendly catfight, not punches or kicks…fight until there is no doubt who wins, sound good?”

Beth nods her head, “Perfect!….no bets or anything, just see who is better?…bra and panties or workout shorts, a 10 count pin?”

“I’m good with that, we’ll be there at seven” we both continue about our business. I fight every urge to watch Beth and try to play it cool by walking back to my Jeep.

I’m all smiles as I tell Jake that we have plans for tomorrow night. That night we look up, Beth on the website and try to come up with a game plan. We see that the catfighter known as “FeistyBeth” has been doing this for years. Fortunately, I have a bit of size advantage to offset her huge advantage in experience. Jake compares our physical stats, “you’re 38, she’s 36…so that’s a wash, at 5’8″ she’s a little over 2 inches taller, but your 140 pounds gives you about a 15 pound advantage….looks like your legs are stronger….but she’ll definitely be tough. Are you as excited as I am?”

The next night after we drop the kiddo at the grandparent’s house, we head to the address that Beth gave me. It’s only a few miles away, in the town adjoining ours. We pull up to a house very similar to ours. We are met by Beth and her husband, Travis.  I grab my bag and without any delay, we head inside. Our hosts are are very polite and we pass quite a bit of time getting to know each other. Turns out, we all have quite a bit in common, but at one point we all know that it’s time to do what we all came here for.

With my bag full of clothes in mind, I ask Beth what the attire for the match will be. She smiles and replies “I think bra and sports shorts would give the men quite a show and still let us feel somewhat like the athletes we are…but first, why don’t we open with a pre match bra swap face off?” Confused, I ask “what’s that?” Her smile gets bigger before she answers “basically we will swap bras and see who fills out the other’s better…obviously we’ll switch back before the match..”  Intrigued, and noticing we are similarly endowed, I accept. “Here” she says handing me her bra she plans to wear. “Put this on when you change and come out in your robe…oh, and I’ll need yours”

Beth and her husband take us upstairs and show us to a spare bedroom off of the rec room. “Y’all can change in here, we’ll meet on the mats in….say…..10 minutes?” Beth says. Once in the room, I slip into a nice pair of red spandex workout shorts that compliment my less than golden, “winter” skin. I put Beth’s black lace trimmed bra on, and smile as it fits ok. Jake helps me with my robe and we head into the rec room.

Beth and her husband Travis, are waiting. It’s a large room with a good sized mat in the middle. There are several cameras set up in the corners to make sure they get every angle…and I notice that Travis also has a handheld camera-just in case. I meet her in the center of the mat and the men both sit on a couch along the wall just of the mat. The taller woman has them men count down to our big ‘reveal’. “3!…2!…..1!….” They chant in unison. Beth and I drop our robes. Both of us shimmy and shake, arch our backs, puff out our chests as best we can to squeeze every bit of what we have into the other woman’s bra. Despite my best efforts, it’s no contest as Beth is stretching my matching bright red sheer bra and you can plainly see that I can’t quite fill hers.

Beth seems pretty proud of her early victory and we turn our backs to the men before we switch back. Now that I’m back in my red ensemble and she is in her black lace bra and black Lycra shorts, we take a couple of minutes to stretch….and size the other woman up. As I suspected, we are pretty even- except for her height and my bigger ass and legs. Both of us look fit and ready. She has her long, dirty blonde hair pinned back out of the way and my golden blonde locks are pulled into a tight ponytail.

We both get to the middle of the mat.  We go over the rules one last time. “First woman to hold their opponent’s shoulders down for a 10 count wins…no striking other than slaps, forearms, and thighs…anything else?” she asks. My game face on, I answer “Other than nothing to the face, Nope”. Her blue eyes staring into my brown eyes as her husband counts down “3!..2!..1!…Fight!”

The long legged woman and start circling each other. With a quick first step, she moves in and I feel a sharp sting as her first slap connects with hip. I attempt to go toe to toe in a slap fighting test. After a couple of minutes, it’s evident that, due to her speed and long arms, that I’m no match for her like this. She is landing 3 or 4 stinging slaps to my back, belly, and ribs for every one I manage to connect with and I can almost feel the red whelps forming on my body.

During one exchange, she lands one combination striking one of my tits follows by the top of her thigh burying itself deep into by belly. With a loud “oomph!” I drop to all fours. But I get no rest as I am pulled into a front headlock and she is raining forearm after forearm onto my back.

After about 5 minutes, she is completely kicking my ass, and we both know it. Running out of options as the all of these blows are taking their toll. I grab her around the waist, and raise up as much as I can and, with a growl, I drive her as hard as I can off of the mats and into the wall.

We slam into the wall hard, the impact surprises the taller woman and she releases the headlock before we both tumble onto the floor. For a brief moment both of us plot our next move. Then, simultaneously, we lunge at each other. We both grab handfuls of the other woman’s hair. Between our grunts and groans I hear Beth exclaim “Now it’s a catfight!”

The hairpulling and slapping continue as we ‘catball’ across the floor and back onto the mats. Neither of us gaining control for long. With her pushing against my weight advantage, I feel like I might be gaining some momentum. I am able to trap the smaller woman underneath me in a headlock.

For the first time in the now almost 10 minutes long bout, the pace slows. From the rise and fall of my opponent’s chest I can tell that I’m breathing much harder, so the change of pace should help me.

Then, almost as she had come to the same realization, my hair is yanked back. The lighter woman fights ferociously to break my hold. If it wasn’t enough that she was almost pulling my blonde hair out by the roots, she continues her slapping assault of my body. 

Then, I feel Beth’s hand find my breast. The thin material of my bra offers no protection as she begins an all out attack on my nipple. My cries and whimpers, let her know that she has found a weakness. Doubling down on my headlock, I try to inflict as much damage to her neck and keep her from breathing as long as I can before I simply have to let go.

I finally release the headlock. Attempting to escape from her grip to avoid the torture my poor tit is receiving, I hear a loud ‘rrrriiiiiiipppp’. The fabric of my bra gives way. Both of us scramble to our feet. Again we are standing across from one another, but this time the wear of the match is evident on both of our bodies.

We look like two crazy women. Beth’s hair is completely unpinned and flowing everywhere. My ponytail is gone and my hair, now damp with sweat is hanging to my shoulders. Both of our chests are heaving. I catch a glance of myself in a wall mirror and see that my face is as flushed as hers. Beth smiles a devious little grin when she sees me, massaging my mauled and exposed breast. “You’re gonna pay for that one, bitch” I say as rip the remains of my tattered bra off, leaving everything God gave me exposed for the room to see.

Not wanting to make the mistake of getting into a slap boxing match with a superior striker, I charge my opponent. She catches me and we are in a mutual bear hug, but I have the leverage. Again, I attempt to crush the thinner girl’s lungs.

For the first time tonight, I finally feel Beth starting to weaken. Even her slaps are losing their sting. Wanting to finish my foe, I lift her off the ground and slam her to the mat. We hit with the familiar ‘thwack’ of flesh hitting canvas. She lets out a yelp landing underneath our combined body weight.

I waste no time crawling into a mounted position on my dazed opponent, pinning her hands above her head and pressing her shoulders to the mat with my body. The men begin to count. “1!…2!….3!…4!….5!…6!”. A funny thing about 10 count pins is that they are as much, if not more, of a submission than they are a pin. You have to break your opponent’s will in order to pin them for this long- take all of the fight out of them. “7!…8!” Beth is definitely feisty and still has some fight in her and she kicks out. “It’ll take more than that, you short little twat” she says.

Beth may have some fight left in her, but she’s in trouble after that body slam and we both know it. Of course, we all know that sometimes wounded animals are the most dangerous. I look down, wondering what to do with the blue eyed fighter beneath me.

Beth glares back at me, defiant but trapped. I take a handful of her hair and slam the taller woman’s head against the mat a few times before unleashing a flurry of slaps and twists to her slightly larger tits. “Not so funny is it now, bitch?” I snarl.

 I look down at my foe and feel like her attitude has been properly adjusted. Again I pin her wrists down. This time for an added insult, I press my chest to her face with a smother. “Just give up Beth, its over..you’re beaten” I say as her shoulders settle on the mat.

Before the men can even count to one, she bucks and gets a shoulder up. “Do you really want me to keep hurting you?” I ask almost smugly. I raise up, preparing to punish her some more. Then in the blink of an eye, the slender woman bucks, twists and clamps her legs around my waist right as I’m exhaling. I land on my belly, in her powerful scissors hold.

I cry out in pain and now am fighting for any breath. Beth’s thin legs feel like steel as they crush me. In desperation, I reach for her tits to try and fight back, but she is too tall and they are just out of my reach. She is aware of what I am trying to do. Again she goes back to attacking my hair. “Not so tough now, are ya, Kelli?” She taunts. As pulls my head back.

Trapped and being squeezed mercilessly, I know I’m running out of options-again. I press and pry at her thighs in an attempt to escape. “It won’t be long now, you smug bitch.” Beth says with growing confidence.

I begin to try to get to my feet, first gathering my knees. Then getting to one knee. Beth renews her efforts, squeezing for all she’s worth. With a one more grunt I lift her as high as can before bringing her down as hard as I can. Once again, the leggy blonde’s back slams onto the mat. Her long legs unwind from around my waist. Both of us lay flat on the mat, gasping for air. Each of us trying desperately to recover enough to finish our weakened foe.

We both get to our knees at about the same time. We go both sling weak, sloppy slaps as we try to use our opponent to climb to our feet.  Beth is the first to make it to her feet using me as a ladder. She starts raining down forearm strikes to my back. From a knee, I fire back with forearm shots to her belly. For a bit, we trade blows and verbal jabs. Finally one of mine hits home her knees buckle. I land another causing the taller woman to double over on top of me.

I grab her arm And pull Beth over my shoulders and stand up. She is draped belly down across my shoulders the  leggy beauty dangles helplessly and completely at my mercy. What’s more, she knows it. She weakly pleads “no…no…no” as I briefly parade her around the rec room.

 I stop in the center of the mat, facing the men, forgetting that my top lies destroyed on the mat and they have a full view of my ‘assets’. Her long legs and long hair hang halfway to the floor. I can feel her shaking her head, pleading for me not to do it. I turn just slightly so the men can see the fear and defeat in her face. She grunts as I give a little bounce getting ready to finish her. I tighten my hold on the arm and leg I’m holding before I drop to my knees.

The impact drives my shoulders into her belly and chest simultaneously. Causing her to let out a loud groan that turns to a whimper as she slides of my shoulders and onto the mat. I roll her the rest of the way onto her back. She is slowly writhing, her long blonde hair splayed all over the mat, her face and chest flushed and sweat covered. I look her in the I eyes as I hook her leg and my chest covers hers. She looks back with a look I’ve seen and had before- she’s been conquered and knows it. As the husbands count the long slow ten count, Beth lays still beneath me, to kick out now would only mean more pain. As men reach “10!”, I feel her let out a sigh of relief.

Rising to a knee, I plant my hand squarely on my defeated foe’s chest. My fingers grip her bra. As I stand up, I pull my trophy off of her. I put my foot where my hand was and raise my arm in victory. For a moment, the men get a glimpse of both us topless and I can see plainly, that they are enjoying the view. The removed bra hanging just above Beth’s face from my other hand.

As I walk back to change, I see Beth still laying on the mat, recovering. She is using her arms to cover her exposed chest. I stop and with a smile, say “You might have worn it better, but I’ll be wearing it last.” I smile as I put her bra on before I disappear into the bedroom to change.

Continued in Chapter 8! Click Here to Read It!

Thank you for reading! For more of FyreCracka’s Stories: Click Here!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

four + 20 =

This Site is a Labor of Love, Set Up for the Benefit of the Fem Fight Community. No Money is Generated in Any Way From This Site or its Content.