Rebecca P. vs. Steph Gibson on FCF
Steph Gibson‘s Preamble:
So I have had the AMAZING opportunity to fight Rebecca on a number of occasions. She’s not only one of the nicest people you’ll find, she’s one of the most creative and vicious minds around!! And she’s become an amazing friend. After all, only friends could work this hard to completely destroy each other ;D
This is a rematch of our very first fight. You’ll see references to it scattered throughout the log. And prior to the beginning of what you’ll read here, Rebecca and I actually had over three hours just of storytelling and buildup! But for personal reasons we’ve agreed to keep that between us. Some of the posts are longer, some are shorter. But when we were finished it felt like such a great piece we just wanted to share it! We hope you guys enjoy what’s here!
I’m driving north, speeding up the highway towards Eastgate. I glance over at the bag I’ve packed on the passenger seat, and for the 10th time, I give it a little shake, to make sure I hear the jingling of keys. My cousin Hannah, who works there, and is staying with me in the city, “lost” her keys… just at the opportune moment to give us a place to meet privately for our rematch. Ever since our battle on the yacht, I’ve been searching for a rush equal to that, and come up wanting. But today… today may be the challenge I have been searching for, the challenge that will push me to my limits. The type of challenge I need…
I pull off the road at the exit, and drive through town towards the hotel. The college is close enough to the city that I don’t really need a room, but I also think a nice place to crash after I defeat that blonde again would be wonderful; on top of which, with the campus deserted I got quite a good deal on the room. I pull up into the nearly empty hotel parking lot, and check in. The staff are shocked that I actually kept the reservation, and upgrade me to the presidential suite for free; I’m not arguing. The suite isn’t exactly impressive by downtown standards, but who am I complain. I check my watch… I’m still early, but that was the plan. So I grab the keys and head out… waving to the guy at the front desk…
While eyeing the side entrance… thinking I may want to know how to get back to my room without showing off any bruises I may have on my return. I head out, checking my phone as I head towards the library, which turns out to be a brief 5 minute walk. Hannah wasn’t kidding: this place is deserted. I make it to the library, and walk up to the side entrance… pulling out the keys, I take a deep breath, and try them… opening the door. I step in, waiting for an alarm to go off… what if she was just whining? But the library stays silent. I let out a breath of relief. I close the door behind me, and start walking around, familiarizing myself. I’m wearing a pair of sweatpants and a loose fitting t-shirt over my fighting attire.
*The entire drive out to Eastgate I’ve been getting myself more and more worked up for this match. Hell, I’ve been getting myself worked up ever since we agreed to it several days go. I spent extra time in the gym, working endurance, working strength conditioning. And I’ve got a few moves, a few tricks that you didn’t see on the yacht. The yacht. . . just thinking about that night makes my hands tighten on the steering wheel. Even though we parted on relatively good terms that night, I still can’t get over the fact that I KNOW I should have won that fight. And the fact that you came out on top burns inside me like a hot coal*
*Unlike you, I didn’t book a room in town. I’ve just been so laser focused on the fight I didn’t even think of what I was going to do after that, win or lose. It never crossed my mind that I probably wouldn’t want to drive back into town. But as I drive through the small college town I happen to see one hotel not far from campus. Seeing how deserted everything is, I figure it probably wouldn’t be hard to book a room on my phone when it’s all over if I decide I want one. I take a right hand turn onto the college campus and one of the first buildings I see is the library. It’s a two story building situated between the freshman dorms and one of the academic buildings. I pull up park next to the side entrance that you told me to go to*
*Getting out I just grab my phone and my car keys. Feeling that familiar sense of nervousness and excitement. And determination. A lot of determination. Like you, I’ve got on a simple t-shirt and sweats over my fighting attire, just a pair of flip flops on my feet. I put a hand on the door handle and it turns easily. Poking my head in, I see only a few lights on, leaving most of the library in dim shadows. I walk in, making sure the door shuts behind me*
As I walk through the library, getting a feel for it, all the feelings and memories of our last fight come back… the struggle, the intensity, the fact that, while one of us may have taken control for a while, in general the match seemed so evenly balanced right up until the end: that is the kind of struggle I’ve been searching to recapture since then, and all of my other opponents have come up short. I am nervous, but not fearful; more like pre-match jitters. I don’t underestimate you; I know just how dangerous you are. But I also have a great deal of confidence in myself. And I want to prove that it is justified by defeating you once again. Lost in thought, I hear a sounds… sounds that might be a door. My heart races.
What if it is a bookworm that stayed on campus? What if it is a guard doing rounds? I cautiously sneak in the direction of the door I ame in, using the furniture to mask me in case it is not you. But I catch a sight of blonde hair and my pulse calms… though it doesn’t quite return to normal, as the sight of my rival fills me with an entirely different set of emotions. I quietly step out from a bookcase and say “Hello, Stephanie. Glad you could make it.” as calmly as I can manage. My dark hair is pulled back in a simple pon ail secured by a rubber band. My body is tense, though under the loose fitting clothing that might not be visible. My sandals softly scrape on the floor as I move towards you slowly.
*As I walk through a few of the stacks, I can’t help but feel out really out of this world crazy it is. I mean, who really does this?? Fight in a college library. But that only adds to my excitement. Since the door was unlocked I figure you must be here someplace, and the dimness of the surroundings gives me an almost spooky kind of feeling. That feeling like eyes are watching from the shadows. My head turns at every gap in the bookshelves, to see if I see you. I begin to wonder if this is an ambush, if I’m suddenly going to feel you jumping on my back. The thought sends chills down my spine*
*my nerves are on such a razors edge that when you do step out in front of me I can’t help starting a little bit in surprise. I feel my heart beating harder and harder in my chest, but just the sight of you makes all those aggressive feelings multiply inside me. My own blonde hair, like yours, is tied back in a simple ponytail. Standing about halfway down a row of bookcases from you I look you up and down. You haven’t changed. In fact, if anything you look more fit, just from what I can tell through those clothes* oh I wouldn’t have missed this for the world Becca. *Letting my lips pull back in a smile that’s all teeth*
I see your grin and hear the confidence in your words, and my smile changes a bit. It was a mix of genuine happiness to seeing you mixed with cocky arrogance, but the arrogance drops away. I only rematched with one other girl since the yacht, and on our second encounter she went from below average to actually timid. But not you: you bare your teeth in a smile filled with defiance, and I can hear it in your words. Exactly the version of you that I hoped would show up. I keep walking forward, down the row of bookcases right towards you. My eyes focus on you and I before I notice I am doing it, I put a bit of strut into my gait.
I walk right up to you… and without touching you, but only barely, I walk past you. There is a moment of electricity as we nearly touch, and I smirk… then move past you and to the door we used… checking it to make sure it is shut… yes it is… then flipping the lock. “We don’t want any visitors, now do we?” I ask. You can easily unlock it without the keys from the inside, it is a simple deadbolt, but I needed to make sure. It is one thing to abuse Hannah’s trust to use this place: it is another to get caught. I turn and head back towards you. “I walked around… no cameras. So no concern there.” I say as I move towards you… seemingly casually, though my heart is racing harder now.
*My eyes narrow slightly, but I keep that toothy smile on my face as you come towards me, and that subtle strut, the swaying of your hips, absolutely screams of confidence. You know you beat me last time, and the show you’re putting on now, is only meant to portray that you’re not all that concerned about me this time. In my head I know it’s all bullshit, but my emotions just rise and rise, starting to overcloud my judgement. I’m prepared for some kind of shoulder bump as you go by, but we don’t actually touch. A hair couldn’t pass though between the space that’s left*
*I whirl around, not wanting to leave my back to such a dangerous opponent. Such a. . . incredible opponent. I see you lock the door, and the slight click echoes loudly in my mind, almost like a cell door locking. There’s a tension in the air that is almost sexual, it’s so intensely personal. All sorts of different emotions run though me, and I can’t help but almost revel in them all* well that’s good. We can just leave it a mystery how this placed got trashed. . . *kicking off my sandals, and hooking my fingers under the waistband of my sweats* and how all this dark hair got all over the place. . .
I hear your words and laugh. Not a mocking laugh; well not mostly. My pulse races as you show you prove once again you haven’t lost a step of your confidence. “Well, it is the dark strands that stand out as noteworthy… in that sea of blonde that just sort of fades into the background.” I make a motion with my hand, uncurling it (not having even noticed I had clenched it tightly, and blowing the imaginary blonde strands in it free of my fingers, recreating my new favorite emoticon from that app. I kick off my sandals, and bend down, grabbing them and tossing them off near a wall to get them out of the way. I pull my phone out of the pocket of my sweats and set it on a tabletop, all the while my eyes not leaving you.
I can see your graceful movements as you thumb the inside of your waistband. I reach under my loose fitting tee and pull it up over my head, revealing a peach colored adidas sports bra that hugs my chest and shows off my toned abs… tossing it onto the tabletop too. I wiggle my hips as I slip out of the sweats, revealing a pair of tight, short small black shorts that hug my body like a second skin. I step forward, and mule kick the pants towards the wall, standing there as I watch you closely.
*My sandals are kicked off and they come to rest at the foot of a low bookshelf to one side that looks like it contains books of reference. I’ve dipped my fingers inside my waistband, but I just rest them on my hips as you strip out of your outer clothes. Damn, you’re definitely in better shape than you were on the yacht, and even then it was spectacular. I remember how your skin felt pressed against mine, the sweaty struggle, the intensity of emotions. And somehow I know that this can only surpass what we did that night. But I just purse my lips and give you a casual glance* hmmm, not too bad Rebecca. Not as good as me, but not bad. *And I slide my sweatpants down, and like you kick them off behind me*
*My own black shorts may as well be painted on, and they actually are cut so high in the back that they just barely cover the lower curve of my bubble butt. With one hand I whip my t-shirt off, revealing a deep purple sports bra that cups my 34c’s high and tight to my chest. Twirling my shirt in my hand I finally toss it back towards my shorts* This is your last chance Becca. You got lucky last time. You go up against me again and I’ll drag your sorry ass through every stack of books in there. . . *feeling my knees bending slightly, my hands waving gently as the moment finally approaches*
I look you up and down as you strip down to your tight purple sports bra and skimpy black shorts, if anything shorter than mine. You look good… you look amazing. I don’t say that lightly; I know how much work goes into making sure I look amazing, and I don’t minimize that effort by complimenting (even mentally) others who don’t deserve it. I am not quite sure I buy your “not as good as me” line, but that’s fine… your confidence is what makes you such a great opponent. A faint smile plays at my lips while you show off the effort you have clearly put in at the gym. I remember you looking great, but not quite that great.
But then I hear your words and my smile fades. I don’t frown, but my expression drops to neutral. I see your stance change, as youe knees bend slightly and your hands wave. “The only luck in our last match, Stephie” I say as I slowly move forward. “Is that you luckily caught me in a good mood and I LET you tap out when you did. You’re going to have to earn that right, this time. The right to tap out when you decide to.” I move forward… not in arms reach, not in lunge reach, but closing. “So I would offer to give you the same opportunity to walk away, but we both know neither of us are going to take it, so why bother?” My smirk returns, somewhat, and I feel my pulse race as I know one fact.
*I listen to your words, words obviously intended to intimidate. But they don’t. And I really don’t think you expected them too. All they do is add more fuel to the fire. Thinking how glorious it will be to remind you of how confident you were when we’re at the end. . . and you’re begging. . . when I’m. . . but we’ll get to that all in due course. You wisely keep out of arms reach, even out of an effective two step lunge range. We both have too much respect for each other’s abilities to give the other an easy early shot* Then let’s do this. . . bitch. . . *The last word low and intense, but not vicious, more of a taunting comment between rivals*
*And with that final words I plant my feet and suddenly rush at you. We’re about half a row of books apart, so I know you’re going to have plenty of time to set yourself for whatever attack you see coming. And I’m counting on it. As I rush at you I extend both of my arms straight out at head heights, fingers opened into claws to give every indication that I want to dig into your hair. but only two steps away from you I suddenly lower my torso and aim my right shoulder at those incredible abs, hoping you spear you right down in the aisle* ssshhhhaaa!!!!!
I smile as you lunge forward… guess those words stung a little deeper than you let on, as you throw caution to the wind and charge at me. My hands go to grab for your hands, planning on trapping those wrists of yours as my knee will then abuse your flat belly. There is a … not pang of regret, because that would be overstating it, but a slight wonder if I built you up more in my mind than you deserve. I mean, you are already 10x better than most of the opponents I’ve faced, either timid wallflowers or boisterous bitches talking shit to cover up their insecurities, all of whom I saw through.
But then you prove my judgement wasn’t wrong… well, my memory wasn’t wrong. My judgement was definitely wrong as I fall for your feint and you plow into my abs in a spearing tackle, sending me sprawling to the library floor as you take me down very effectively. My hands close on thin air, and my leg, already primed to slam up, still comes up too late as I misjudge the situation and smacks against your thigh harmlessly as we fall to the ground. I let out a low grunt of pain and try to compensate, my hands now shooting to your hair; pulled into the ponytail, I still can sink my fingers into the strands strands near your scalp. I wince as my abs throb, but let out a snarl and jerk hard to my right, trying to roll us over as I buck my hips, anxious to roll you beneath me!
*Up until now we hadn’t actually made any physical contact. So this first impact of skin on skin is like fireworks going off inside my head. And the fact that I lured such a skilled fighter in with my feint makes it even better. I feel my shoulder smack hard into your abs and my forward momentum sends us both crashing down onto the cheap carpet they use in the academic buildings here. I land hard on top of you, my arms wrapped around your torso, but then I feel both of your hands sinking deep into my hair. Gawd, I know you love the hair pull!!* AAIIIEEEE!! *giving a screech of pain as you quickly roll us over*
*And it’s almost like where we left off on the yacht. Pressed body to body, you on top, me underneath you. But that was then, this is now! My legs tangle with yours and I manage to scissor your left leg, wanting to keep you from straddling and mounting me. I know from that position you could just wail on me until you tired out. I slide my left hand around your ponytail, and jerking your head back hard I start raining open palmed slaps and back hands across your face with my right* Come on Becca!! *SMACK* show me *SMACK* what you’ve fucking got!! *SMACK*
I feel my head jerked back by your grip on my hair as you trap my left leg, keeping me from shifting up into a straddle. As my head jerks back, my 34 b+ / c- chest juts forward. Your slaps smack at my face, and I feel the sharp sting in my cheeks. I may be on top, but you are the tigress I always remembered, not the little kittens I demolished. But that respect… yeah, that is something I will recall another time. Right now, I feel my pride and anger both rising up simultaneously as, despite the fact you are beneath me, you slap me bitchily and challenge me! I let out a snarl as the intense emotions swirl within me, and bare my teeth at the wall… not at you, since you’ve bent my head back!
My hands, still in your hair, raise your head up and bang the back of your head against the thin cheap carpet of the library… once, twice, thrice. I then shake your head side to side, trying to dizzy you. My left hand leaves your hair as I raise it up and swing down, bringing a big open-handed SLAP down aimed at your cheek as I aim to show you just what the FUCK I’ve got!
*Each impact of my hand, front and back, against your face sends stinging jolts up through my wrist, but the pain is negligible compared to the grimace of pain I see on your face as each one lands. Your long hair in my left hand, I twirl my wrist around, almost trying to wrap your hair around my fist as I continue my slapping attack* You’ve got nothing you piece of. . . NNGGHHH!! *And you respond in a truly intense way, smacking the back of my head against the floor*
*The cheap carpet offers very little in the way of protection, and each smack of the back of my head on the floor makes bright flashes go off in my vision. This isn’t some little scratching catfight. You’re here to play rough, and you want to win. And as you shake my head, making the room spin around me, I know I need to up my game. But right now you have the upper hand. I feel my grip on your hair loosen as my limbs temporarily go a bit watery, my scissor on your legs giving just a little, but I desperately try and keep my ankles locked together*
I give another SLAM and feel your leg loosen even more… I push up to my knees as I hear you gasp in pain. My hands both secure deep grips on your hair as I push up to my knees, then get my feet under me… hauling you up to your feet. I feel you moaning in my grip, a bit dazed. I give a twist and slam you to the right, into the bookcase, which gives a shake.
You want to know what I’ve got, Steph? DO you?!?” I shout as I walk you backwards by the hair, then once we clear the bookcase I let out a snarl and hurl you, or at least try to, into a nearby table, the one I put my top and phone on… trying to woman-handle you roughly by tossing you into it, releasing my grip as I show off my strength as I throw you against it. My chest heaves, my teeth bared, my eyes burning with intensity.
*Those smacks to the back of the head really do have me reeling, and as you use your double grip on my hair to pull me up to my feet I barely notice the burning pain in my skull. All I’m trying to do is to convince my brain that the room isn’t actually spinning around in the way it obviously thinks it is. I’ve just barely got me feet under me when you swing me around to smack my side into the bookcase* AARRGGHHH!!! *Hunching over my left side as you back me out of the stacks by my hair. That taunt when we were on the floor obviously hit a soft spot and you’re taking it out on me now*
*As we clear the stacks I feel your grip on my hair tighten and my hands go up to your wrists, trying to lessen the real burning sensation. I know I’m going to be leaving some hair behind in this place tonight. And as you swing me around again, releasing your hold, you hurl me perhaps a bit harder than you thought. I feel my feet actually come up off the carpet* WHHOOOAAAA!! *And instead of slamming against the table, I actually slide across the top, sweeping your top and phone off as I slide right off the other side to tumble back onto the floor* Gaaawwdd. . . *Groaning*
I hear a satisfying THUD and a groan as you hit the edge of the table, and instead of slamming against it, roll over it and crash to the carpet on the other side… my shirt and phone tumbling off in the process. I pant, and for a brief moment I feel some guilt. I never unleashed on those weaker girls so early like that. I hear you groaning on the other side of the table. But as true and honest as those thoughts are in my mind, they also aren’t nearly as dominant as the predatory thoughts that crowd them out. I can see you partially, but the table also partially obscures you. The disadvantage of my attack is that it separated us.
I stalk around the table, rounding it and ignoring my phone and shirt as I move towards you, not wanting anything between me and my prey. I see you there on your belly, groaning. I move up behind you and reach down, grabbing your ponytail as I pull you up to your knees in front of me, back to me, as I jerk you upright. “Do you want to see MORE of what I’ve fucking got, Steph? DO YOU!?” I shout as I twist your head backwards, trying to make you look up at me!
*Holy fuck, I don’t know that I’ve ever been completely dominated so early in a match before. And I KNOW for sure that I’ve never been just tossed over a table like that. Laying there on the floor, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I try and figure out what’s happened here. Evidently I woke up the dragon inside of you, and now I need to figure out how to be St. George. I don’t hear you coming around the table, I don’t even know you’re there until you grab a hold of my hair again from behind, yanking me up to my knees*
*I’m yanked back so hard, I can actually stare up into your face and I can see the glow of intensity there. Grabbing your wrist get my feet under me and roll up to my feet, first into a squatting position, and then slowly straightening my wobbly legs. I have to figure out some way of getting back into this. And with our positioning I try the only thing I can think of. Reaching back with both hands I grab your head and then, pulling your chin to press against my head, I drop back down to my knees, going for a jawbreaker*
“DO YOU!?!?” I repeat myself as I gaze down into your eyes, my own burning with intensity. I see a sea of emotions in yours… but you don’t answer, just gasping and groaning, your eyes clearly seeking an out, one I am determined not to permit you. “I thought you weren’t just another notch on my belt, but maybe I was wrong…” I hiss as I am about to hurl you face-first towards the carpet, but your hands shoot up, and with surprising strength jerk down after latching onto my hair
I groan as my jaw slams into your shoulder and I see stars. Actual, real, stars. Blasts of light. What am I, in a fucking cartoon!? I groan as my hands release your hair, and I stumble backwards… clutching my jaw. Somehow I manage to stay on my feet, but I stumble and stagger, bumping into the table and then staggering further back, blinking my eyes and shaking my head as I try to clear it… panting and gasping
*As my fingers dig hard into your hair and I drop down I feel your upper body come down as well until your jaw slams hard into my shoulder. I release your hair instantly and your torso snaps back up and without looking back I know I’ve managed to score at least one hit. One that could buy me a little bit of time. But any time I take to recover only gives you the same amount of time. Leaning forward to press my hands to the floor, I push myself back up to my feet. I sway gently, still not quite steady in an upright position after that early onslaught of yours, as I turn around, seeing that you’ve managed to stay on your feet* Tough bitch. . . *I mutter under my breath*
*I take a few step in close to you, feeling a sense of confidence slowly starting to return. Knowing that if I can land one hit, I can land others* You think you can just toss me around Becca?? Like I’m some kind of fucking rag doll??? *And dropping to my knees in front of you I grab your ankles with both hands and jerk back hard, just wanting your land hard on your back, while at the same time trying to keep a hold of your ankles*
Staggered, grunting, I stumble backwards… shaking my head, trying to clear it. My jaw aches and my head spins from your unexpected shot. I breathe deeply, my chest heaving, as I see you moving towards me. I swing out a clumsy smack, aiming for your head, but as you drop to your knees, I swing right over your head, hitting nothing. UGGH. Fucking bitch… and then I feel my legs pulled from under me as your fingers wrap around my ankels and yank. I land on my ass, hard, with a thud, the thin carpet doing little to pad my fall.
I land, my hands hitting the carpet to brace me and keep me sitting up. I try pulling my knees to me to slam my feet into your chest, but your grip on my ankles prevents that, and instead I thrash about… pulling my right foot free of your grip, but preventing a slam to your chest. I quickly shift my foot against your ribs and shove, trying to push you off me, hoping to knock you back to let me scramble to my feet, but my reflexes are still a little sluggish from the jawbuster.
*I watch with an incredibly satisfied feeling as you fall back onto your ass, hearing the hard grunt and seeing the pain on your face. But that’s not enough. There’s so much more I want to put you through. I’m just trying to get up to my feet when you start thrashing about wildly with your legs, and actually do manage to free your right one* Get back here you slippery little slut. . . *Still managing to hold onto your left leg as your right foot presses against my ribs and with a shove knocks me onto my back. But I’m still desperately hanging into your left ankle. And now I decide it’s time to show you some skills I didn’t get a chance to on the yacht*
*Pulling your left foot up until I can tuck your ankle under my right armpit, my toned smooth legs suddenly snap out to scissor around your left leg* You ready to scream for me you cunt??? *And switching my grip to under your knee, I lean back, trying to lock you into a knee bar, working that joint*
I feel you fall back from my kick/shove, and I pant in relief as I still shake my head, trying to orient and focus. But something is off… not sure what, until I hear your words, and then the pressure on my leg increases exponentially as you lock on the knee bar, working the joint. I try to pull my left leg free, but it is trapped in your armpit and by your grip. I howl in pain, screaming on cue, not caring for the moment that is exactly what you want. I shout, slapping the thin carpet in agony. I arch my back and howl in pain as the pressure just seems to be getting worse!!
My fingers claw at the thin, cheap carpet as I try to twist my body free. My head shakes side to side, as I gasp in agony. Fuck… when did she learn holds like that!? “LET GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I shout, thrashing side to side in your grip, my heart pounding in my chest as fear starts rising up… my knee in utter agony as you work the hold, shaking my head as I know I need to clear it and FAST! AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
*There’s an almost catty kind of purrrrrrrrrr vibrates through my lips as I watch you thrash and scream. My arms and legs wrapped tight around your knee as I lean back, increasing the pressure. At one point I lean forward, letting the pressure decrease. It’s not a show of mercy, or any guilt over what I’m doing, but I want it to be a very clear indication of who’s in charge here* That’s right Becca. . . scream all you want. . . there’s no one here to listen. . . except me. . . *And I lean back again*
*My legs fully extended as they scissor around your leg, trying to keep it locked in place. And then, just to add a new kind of pressure I start rocking my body back and forth, side to side. And in a moment of inspiration I start humming* Rock a bye baby *Pushing my head up to stare across at you, a smirk slowly creasing my lips. That gorgeous frame of yours, glistening with sweat in the dimness, like I know mine is*
I scream as you keep working the hold… loosening briefly, but only to give me time to focus and realize what is happening, before you snap the pressure on again, agonizing my knee. I shout and scream, as you mock me… reminding me you are the only one here to hear my screams. I grit my teeth, trying to stifle them, but you rock side to side and work the hold painfully from another angle, and mockingly hum at me, tearing new shouts of pain from me. I know I need to do something… fuck at this rate you may cripple and end me right here, right now…
AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR THAT! I let out a howl, but the pain starts to concentrate my focus rather than distract from it. I grind my teeth so tightly that the feel they might crack. I let out a hiss and curl my free leg back just a hair, not enough (I hope) to attract your attention, then slam it forward, trying to drive the heel of my foot into whatever I can reach… your chest your face, your jaw, I don’t care, I just want to hit it… and HIT IT HARD!
*I’m feeling so totally in control now. I’m thinking that I could just lay back into this hold until you beg me to let you tap out. What a dominating win that would be. To have taken your flurry of attacks and then come back and made you submit with just one hold. I lean back and my eyes kind of flutter, imagining it. I can really almost picture it, how it would be to show you that I can work your body and make you mine*
*And in that moment of distraction, that’s when you strike. I couldn’t tell if you planned it that way, if the pain I’m causing you just finally makes you lash out in the only way that you can. I’m fully leaned back into the hold now, my back lying flat the carpet as I put the maximum pressure on your joint that I can. When suddenly your free leg comes in and* UUUUFFFFF!!! *My body actually jackknifes up before flopping back down as your heel drives right in just below my bra line. It’s like a stake driven against my chest. Coughing and gasping, I let go of your knee and grab my chest, rolling away from towards the study table* Nnngggghhhh!
I hear you gasping and groaning as the pain finally relents. My hands push against the carpet as I draw myself back, desperately pulling my left leg away from your grasp, to prevent you from reaching out to grab and re-lock the hold. As I sit up I glance down and see you on your side, clutching your chest and gasping in pain. I think absently that maybe I hit your solar plexus, and that hurts like fuck, and good I hope it hurts you fucking bitch because my knee MY FUCKING KNEE!!!
I drag myself backwards by my hands and groan, slowly using a nearby chair to pull myself to my feet. I test my weight on my knee… I wince in pain, fuck that hurts… but I test again, and it still aches, but it doesn’t ruin me. The knee is sore, but not ruined… that is important, I think to myself. The other myself shouts NO SHIT IT IS IMPORTANT! I shake my head to shut them up as I push off the chair, standing on my own two feet, chest heaving, sweating. “You… gonna lay there crying all day, bitch” I hiss as I stay out of kicking range… the last think I need is a retaliatory snapkick to my knee while you lay there moaning.
*I’m still holding my chest, resting on my side near one of the study tables, as I gasp for breath. As you get to your feet I look suspiciously at your right foot, wondering if you’ve got something taped to your heel, like a fucking piece of iron! Shit that hurts!! But you’re already on your feet, gingerly testing your knee that I worked over. Reaching behind me I grab a hold of the table and use it to pull myself up to my feet. My eyes glare across at you, wisely staying out of kicking range* Who’s crying bitch? Or should I call you limpy?? *Letting my eyes dip down to your left leg*
*And I slowly circle out from the table, my knees slightly bent, for leverage, but also to keep them from wobbling too much. My eyes dart from your leg, to your arms, back up to your face. I’ve shown I can work you over well when I slow the pace down, so that’s what I’m going to try to do. Extending my right hand I turn I up and crook my index finger* Come on whore, let’s play some more!
I smile, as you beckon me on, seeing you look a little worse for wear, but also knowing you are far from down… and assuming I look the same way. I pant and wipe some sweat from my face as I turn to face you, shifting slightly in the process. I keep testing that knee as I move, making sure it will hold my weight. “Oh trust me, skank. We’re far from done playing.” I smile as I move, as my heart races once more…
I lunge forward suddenly my hands shooting for your hair as my arms raise up. I let out a little hiss of anger as my finger shoot for you, claws curled slightly as I thrust myself forward at you. Just before I reach you however, I raise up my right foot and try smacking it into your flat tummy, trying to double you over, and allow me to turn the seeming hair attack into an effort to pull you into a side headlock, twisting my hip into to you as I turn to face the same as you. My left leg shoots pain as I put all my weight on it, but better that than the pain of using it to abuse those cute abs!
*As I crook my finger in the back of my mind there’s a sudden doubt. I remember what you did to me just a few minutes ago when I taunted you. Maybe I should tone the trash talking down. but that little voice in the back of my mind is drowned out by the louder part of mind which is yelling “Trash her, beat her, make her suffer!!” and as you rush in towards me my hands reach up for your wrists, wanting to keep them from going into my hair. And with my arms up you slam your right foot into my flat tummy* UUUFFF!!! *My abs, and that four pack I’ve been working for hard for, ache as I double over, air and spit flying out past my lips*
*And as I’m doubled over suddenly your right arm is around my head and I feel the pressure on my skull as you start cranking on the pain* Uuuuuuunnnggghhh!!! *My hands go to your right arm, trying to pop it off, but you’ve got it locked in good. My head tilted so I can see your own gorgeous midriff, the sight making me jealous and steamy all at the same time! So instead I wrap my left arm around your waist, and reaching down I try to hook my right hand under your right knee. And then with a HEAVE lift you up while at the same time falling back to the floor, in a kind of side suplex*
I squeeze the hold, wrenching on your head, liking the gasp of pain it drags out of you. OOOh, that was fun, let’s do that again! I twist again, wrenching on your head and twisting your neck in the process, dragging out another cry of pain… and I feel your hands groping at my knee. ‘Oh no oh no oh no, you’re not going to work some other joint lock on me!’ I think to myself and start to shift to avoid it, but instead of using it for that you use it for leverage, and then show off your strength by lifting and falling back, sending my shoulder blades crashing into the floor!
The pain and shock jolt through me as I hit with a THUD and my headlock disintegrates as I roll off to the side, gasping and a bit dizzy as I struggle to my feet, blinking as I try to remember if I thought you were strong enough to pull that off before… but it is a moot point because you are strong enough now, obviously, and you just proved it!
*The only reason I was able to pull a move like that off is because I didn’t languish in the headlock too long. It’s such a simple hold, but I’ve seen girls tap out to a well locked in side headlock. The pressure on your skull can just drain all the life out of you. As we fall back I hit as well, but with you sitting up higher I know you took the brunt of it. And as you roll away I roll in the opposite direction, rolling up to a squat, watching carefully as you stagger and struggle to get vertical again*
*And just as you reach your feet I dart in to you from behind. my right hand reaches out for your ponytail, wanting to jerk your head back and jerk it back HARD, to pay you back for all the hair pulling you do to me* You want to play rough with me bitch??? *Reaching my left hand around your torso I make a claw and sink my fingers into those sexy abs of yours* WELL? DO YOU?? *Screaming now*
Your hand grabs at my ponytail and jerks hard, and my head snaps back, as my scalp stings! AGGGGHHHH!!! But that isn’t nearly as bad as your claws, as they sink into my abs, nails digging into the skin as your fingers dig into the toned muscle, causing me to scream in pain. I howl as you scream at me. Both hands shoot over my right shoulder to grab at your hair, near the base of your scalp, fingers digging in for a good grip. Not yanking, but more for stability… hissing at the pain. “AGGGGGGGGGH!!!!!!!” I cry once more… then backpedal HARD, my ass bumping into you and my hands keeping your head in place as I back us up… trying to drive your back HARD into one of those support columns that rise from floor to ceiling in the library behind you.
If I succeed, I use that distraction to twist out of your grasp as I release your hair, whirling around to face you… hands going to your head as my right knee comes up to your belly once more, hammering at it as I try to plow myself into you. “Those are what real abs felt like, just so you know!” I snarl referring to your recent claw…
*I love the way your hard toned abs feel under my hand. My fingers dig in hard, my nails almost seeming like they want to separate those muscles and dig into the spaces between them. And with my grip on your ponytail I jerk your head roughly side to side. When your own hands come up and snag into my hair* AAAHHH!!! *And then suddenly you’re powering me backward. My feet scrabble on the carpet until I impact hard on one of the faux columns they use to help decorate what would otherwise be a rather drab space*
SHIIT!!! *I scream, my arms flailing out wide and my back arching as it feels like every single vertebrae in my spin impacted on that fake stone column. But then you just grab me and pulling me half way over sink another one of those knees into my tummy* Uuuggghhh!! *My hands coming forward to grab a hold of your hips, the only thing that’s keeping me from sinking down onto my knees*
I feel the satisfying thud and groan as my knee buries in your belly. I smile… ohh that sound is so sweet. I go for another, but as you grip my hips and sink into me, there isn’t enough room for me to do anything more than tag your thigh. I notice a crack in the faux stone cover of the decorative column. That was there before, right? *shakes head* Never mind. My hands go from your hair to the shoulder straps of your sports bra, wrapping fingers around purple material as I shove hard, trying to push you up and back against the column again, my arms extending out to give us some room. “I do want to play rough, you’re right!” I hiss…
Then I lift my left foot up, tired of putting my weight on it… as I fall backwards, I extend my leg straight, trying to drag you with me and shove into a monkey flip as I fall towards the thin carpet, hoping to send you on a much rougher ride!
*That shot to the knee is like a huge road block that the engine I had been trying to build up steam runs into and just derails. Gawd, you keep going after them!! And holding onto your hips I’m thinking if I could just get a breather, just get a chance to get my feet under me again so to speak. But you’re not going to give me that chance. You push back up against the column and as I’m pressed flat against it I look into your face and see a rock hard determination there.*
*But then I feel your fingers dig in hard around the shoulder straps of my bra and as your foot comes up I think I’m in for another ab bruising kick. But it just rests there. And then I suddenly see what your plan is* Wait a minute here. . . Becca . . wa. . . wwaaaahhh!!!!! *As you roll down onto your back and pull me with you, held up by your left leg until the forward momentum flips me all the way over and I land hard on my back* UUUUGGGHHH!!! *Back arching up for a second, both hands going to the small of my back as my feet kick at the floor before falling back, groaning softly* Gaawwdd. . .
My hands released your top as I extended my leg… wincing as the pressure on my knee caused a shooting pain, but the flip and your subsequent groan made that easily worth it. I roll over onto my belly as I see you on your back, kicking the floor in pain. I scramble forward, throwing myself forward… crashing into you as you (understandably!) suffer and groan on your back…
My chest crashing atop your face as I flop atop you at a slight angle… both of my arms grabbing for your left arm as I try to tie it up… my right arm twisting as I try to wrap around it, with my left gripping at your wrist and pressing my arm into it… going for an impromptu arm lock as I try to hyperextend your elbow, working it in an effort to show you I know a hold or two myself… panting as my chest heaves down at you.
*I’m still groaning in pain, and trying to get in a full deep breath after getting the wind knocked out of me in the monkey flip. But you don’t give me any of that time. Flipping over you just pounce on me like some kind of wild animal, your gorgeous enclosed chest coming down on my face in an sudden smother. The smell of your sweat, and whatever soap you used earlier, fills my head as I try and get in a breath. But the smother may only be accidental as I suddenly feel a shooting pain in my left arm* AAAAAIIIEEE!!! *My scream muffled by your chest as you work in the arm lock*
*My feet are really kicking the floor now. Frantically as the pain shoots from my wrist all the way up to my elbow. My head I trying to shake desperately, but my movements are constrained by your girls, as even through your top, they try and mold around my face* NNNGGGHHHHHH!!! aaaaaahhh!! GAAWWWDD!!! *My free right hand flailing desperately as the pain increases*
Leaning into you, letting my weight do some of the work, I press the hold…. it isn’t nearly as tight or scientific as a fully trained grappler would do, but it does seem to be having its effect, as your screams and flailing arm indicate. My chest heaves as I press into you, and I can feel the electric jolt of adrenaline as I torture your arm, feeling no remorse as I recall the pain in my knee from your leg bar. I twist my shoulders to add to the pressure, bucking into you. You can’t see it, but a cruel smile is all over my face as I hear you scream.
“Not god, no… I’m good but not that good… grrrrrrrrr” I lean in, working the hold. “But all this can be over if you just tap, blondie. Tap, as well as tell me that I’m the better woman. I want to hear you say the words this time, I’m not going to let you off with only a simple tap out. Now…. why don’t you start BEGGING!” I snarl as I work your arm over.
*The pain is almost mind numbing. My kicking feet are starting to lose some of their energy. And you can’t see it, but under your chest tears are starting to leak from my eyes. I try and bridge up, knowing it’s almost certainly useless. Not only is it useless, it actually increases the pressure on my elbow, unleashing another loud scream of pain* AAAHHHH!!!!!!! *And as you trash me, showing how firmly you’re in control right now, I feel a sinking feeling inside my chest. I can’t go down 0-2 to you. I. . . can’t!! Desperation floods my thinking. I’ll do anything to get out, but I won’t beg you. Fuck you. And anger starts mixing with the desperation*
*Any hope for me getting out of this is sinking fast. I curl my right arm at the elbow, trying to figure out how you’re positioned on top of me, and I feel your leg. Your left leg. And the knee that a few minutes ago I had trapped in a leg bar. thinking this may be my only shot, I make a fist with my right hand and with everything I’ve got slam it down into the back of your left knee, praying that it’s enough to make you let me go*
“Aahh isn’t good enough… I told you what I want, bitch, and I will do what I need to get it. So if you want this arm, start begging!” I snarl. I’m not psychotic enough, even in my hyper state, to actually permanently damage your arm, but I know how painful a joint hold is (see the pain in my knee!) and I know I need to wear you down mentally, so I scream as I work the hold, trying to bully you into submission. I feel you bridging under me as you face presses up into my top and cleavage. “I said tap, not squirm!” I snarl and I shift my grip slightly, tightening up the hold as I work my arms more expertly around yours, behind and in front of your arm, and moving it to the side, away from the floor to give a better angle for pressure.
I feel your hand groping about at my left leg. “No, you aren’t getting that lock on again, that is not getting you out of this!” I hiss but it isn’t the lock you were looking for. I scream in pain as your punch hits. “AAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!” I shout as pain shoots up my leg. On reflex my grip loosens, and that is the cue you were looking for as you slip it mostly free of my grasp. I could try to re-grab but I know you won’t let me have the leverage to get you back in that position… and fuck my leg hurts! So I roll off of you, releasing you as I roll away and to my knees, wincing as I rub my knee and put my weight on the right one. “Oh you fucking slut…” I hiss as I plan ways to make you pay for that!
*As soon as my fist makes impact with the back of your knee I slip my left arm free and roll away from you. Up to my knees, I lean back against the side of the stair case that goes up the second story of the library. Sweat covers my body now, my blonde hair is pulled half out of its ponytail. But right now I’m just cradling my left arm. The pain is slowly receding to be replaced by a pins and needles numbness. I try to gently shake it out a few times, wincing as the pins feeling increases* Gawd you’re a cunt. . . *I growl, rubbing the back of my right hand under my nose as I slowly work up to my feet, my back pressed to the half wall that encloses the staircase*
*And for a moment we just stare at each other, across the several feet that separate us. Battered and bruised, but neither of us by any means finished. I suddenly smile, a smile that rises as much as from a the joy of competition as from the fact that I managed not to give in and can still win this* I’ve needed this. . . *I whisper, as if sharing a great secret. And with that I slide around to the foot of the stairs, almost offering you a chance to get to your feet*
My hands press down on the carpet as I see you shift your position, backing to the foot of the stairs. I push off my hands and rise to my feet, still wincing from the pain in my knee. “If I’m a cunt, then I am the cunt who is going to own your ass… twice.” I say, flipping two fingers on my right hand out, to make my point. And I know what you need about ‘needing this’… to the point that I don’t even trash talk that, make a joke about needing to be beaten, I just nod slightly as I move to my side, liing up with you… eyes glancing at the staircase behind you. My chest heaves as I wipe sweat from my face with the back of my hand.
A few strands of hair have fallen out of the pon ail and across my face, but mostly it has stayed surprisingly in place. I breathe hard as my eyes lock with yours. I wiggle my fingers at you. “Let’s see if you’ve still got anything in the tank, Steph” I say as I urge you on, hoping to goad you into a charge.
*There’s even more intensity now, as we line each other up, my back to the foot of the stairs. I’d had been hoping that you’d lunge in at me, but you’re obviously too smart for that* Twice?? Think again bitch. Tonight you go down, and I’ve got a dozen ideas of how you make you submit to me. . . *And as I turn my body to keep facing you I catch the back of my feet on the bottom step. Stumbling slightly in an apparent trip, I sit down hard on the second step. My hands reach out behind me to try and soften my fall*
*But it’s all another ruse. A ruse which I hope will bring you in closer. Because what you may not have seen, but I saw as I backed up to the bottom of the stairs, was that before they left for break, someone left a stack of magazines on the that second step. And as my hand rest behind me I grab one of them, and as you come in closer I suddenly whirl my right arm around and sling the fluttering periodical toward your face before charging in right behind it, jumping in the air and looking for a kind of cross body, to slam my body into yours at right angles and send us tumbling down to the carpet again*
I see you stumble and it sets off all my predator instincts. I curl back my lips in a sneer and hiss, my body tensing as I lunge forward, about to crash into you and work you against those stairs, planning all sorts of ways to torture you. But instead, a flutter of magazines fills my face unexpectedly. “WHA?” I cry out, coming up short, arms raising defensively on instinct, to cover my face… and you use that, hurling yourself forward, slamming into me and sending me crashing to the carpet behind me in a slamming takedown.
I hit the carpet on my back with an OOOOFffff and I feel a sting of some rug-burn on my bare back. I groan and my hands go for your hair, yanking as I try hauling you off me… the impact had me a bit slower though, and your fingers already found a grip on me… so as I jerk to the side, you pull with me, and we roll on the carpet, struggling… legs thrashing, hissing, growling… each trying to end up on top as we crash across the library floor…
*With an almost warlike screech of rage I hurl myself at you and as our bodies collide I feel the press of skin on skin as we go tumbling back down onto the rough carpet. This isn’t the soft home variety. This is rough industrial carpet, made to withstand the tread of college students year after year, dropped food, and dirty shoes. As you snag into my hair I latch hard into yours. And then it’s almost a catball. Hissing and screeching like the cats it’s named after. It’s only my good fortune, and your bad, that when our roll is stopped by the reference desk I happen to be on top*
*As our roll comes to a halt, both of us latches into each other’s hair. The sting of the pull is bringing tears to my eyes and I grit my teeth against the pain. Jerking your head roughly to one side, I try and slam the side of your head against the reference desk before struggling to untangle my legs from yours. As I stagger back up to my feet I use my grip on your hair to pull you up with me and then force your face down onto the reference desk. And right there is the little hand scanner they use to scan books* Let’s see how much you’re worth here missy!! *Grabbing the hand scanner I start flashing it across your eyes* Huh! Doesn’t register! You must be one pretty cheap bitch!!
We crash across the carpet, and my largely bare back takes plenty of the abuse: this rough, ragged industrial carpet is none too soft on the skin. I can guarantee only the most desperate undergrads have snuck off here for a quickie. The primal force of our clash comes to the fore again as we roll about, snarling and yanking hair, legs intertwined, nails digging into scalps even as the fingers yank hair. There’s something even more intense, if possible, about this clash between us than the first on the yacht: something more visceral. The energy level is amazing. This is what I have been missing in my fights with those others…
Well, that is what I thought until we ended at the desk, and the gods of chance smile on Steph, leaving her on top. I groan as you smack my head against the side of the desk, leaving me gasping and my hands hanging in your hair now, rather than pulling. As you jerk me to my feet, it is clear that the band that was containing my hair has snapped under the abuse. I feel you haul me up and then smack my cheek down onto the desk. I’m still groaning and I don’t quite understand your comment until there is a blinding zap of light. I squeal in shock and close my eyes, still seeing the afterimage as I shake my head… flashbacks to the lamp in the yacht, but dialed up to 11. I groan as my hands come to my eyes, out of your hair now as I rub them, sweating hard, gasping and distracted, with minor rug burns visible on my back and sides.
*My entire body is quivering with energy now. I know it’s adrenaline that’s keeping me going at this point, but right now I feel more alive, more in tune, than I have since that fateful night on the yacht. Even when I was losing, I still felt more vibrant than I have for months. as I lift you up by your ankles, holding you horizontal now, your upper body supported by the desk, your ankles in my hand I grin at those red marks I see on your back* You’re mine this time Becca!! *And pulling my right foot back I swing it back up, aiming a hard kick for your abs. ONCE! TWICE!! Before hauling back, trying to send you crashing face down back onto the carpet*
I am still gasping and groaning from the blinding light (and not to mention the impact of my skull on that desk before it!) when you grab at my ankles… hauling them up so I am horizontal to the floor. I squirm weakly, then feel your feet SLAM into my abs, once; twice! I’m worried there will be a thrice but you have a different plan, and you jerk hard towards you. I try grabbing at the desk, but all I catch is the scanner, and my luck, it isn’t wired. I slide off the desk and you twist on my ankles, so I fall hard front-first to the rough carpet at the feet of the desk. I at least manage to cover my head with my arms, since they were up to rub my eyes already…
The cross of my arms taking some of the brunt, but I still gasp as I crash down. I kick my legs hard, blindly but angrily, trying to yank them free of your grip even as I moan in pain, my hair a dark mop around my head as I stare at the ancient carpet in anger… blinking as I start to be able to focus on the rough fibers and not the blinding light.
*I hissssss with satisfaction as you go crashing down onto the carpet in front of me. Your arms are up, which definitely lessens the impact to your face, which is disappointing. But then it could have realistically knocked you out, and with how powerful I’m suddenly feeling in this match, I want you awake. I want you awake to feel every bit of this. You kick your ankles free of my grip, but I had already half left them go, so I just let your legs flop down onto the carpet. I start to walk up toward your head, around your left side. Confident now, measured steps* You wanted to know what I’ve got left, huh? HUH??? *Growling down at you as I get to your head*
*Reaching down I dig my fingers into your hair again, making sure my nails scrape across your scalp. Using that grip to haul you up again, but trying to keep you bent over at the waist. I start dragging you back into the stack of books* Come on Becca. . . *My breaths coming deeper now as we stumble barefoot back towards the study tables* We’ve got some more studying to do!! *Jerking your head roughly side to side*
I groan and stagger as you yank me up, my arms tucking under my chest as you keep me bent over after hauling me to my feet. I can feel your nails scratching at my scalp even as your fingers yank my prettier black tresses. My chest and abs heave as I gasp, still feeling the impact of your kicks. I groan as you drag me towards the stacks and the study tables, letting out a moan of pain as you keep on my dizziness, jerking my head side to side…
But one thing about me… at some point the abuse starts to piss me off even more than it damages me. And that taunting, arrogant tone you take as you drag me towards the tables is grating on me. I grit my teeth but stifle a growl, even as you keep shaking and jerking on my head. I hiss and snap my right fist out in a short, quick gut punch at your abs, and then try to straighten up rapidly, hoping the blow caused you to gasp enough to let me push against your grip… swinging my left hand up at your lips and nose… the left hand that still as the hand-scanner in it! UMPH!! I grunt as I swing hard trying to come up between your arms and target your pretty face!!
*I’ve just managed to get you back to the study area and surrounding stacks when you seem to wake up of your daze. If there’s one problem I’ve always had in fights, it’s that once I manage to get into a controlling position I get over confident. I don’t continue the hard hitting assault that I should, and tonight is no different. And you make me pay. In spades. we’ve just reached the first table when your short quick jab at my tummy makes me bend over slightly, my body turning to face yours more directly* Uufffff. . .
*It’s not a super hard hit, but it’s enough to stagger me, and the effect is greater than it may have been considering the beating we’ve put on each other already tonight. But what I’m not expect is the sudden upward flash of movement and the sudden bright FLASH of light and pain as that scanner smacks me right in the face* AAAAHHHH!!! *My hands fly out of your hair and I topple backward to actually sit down in one of the hard wooden chairs next to that first desk. Bright spots flash in my vision, and my right hand goes up to my nose, coming away with just a bit of bright red staining my fingers* Uuggghhh. . .
I pant as I hear you straighten up and let me go, and you fall backwards. I toss my hair back and glare, seeing you in the hard wooden chair, it creaks as your weight hits it and shifts from the impact, turning slightly as you sit there, shocked. I see your fingers go to your nose, and a few small dots coming away from it. A more rational version of myself might feel bad about that. But I’m not the more rational version of myself: I’m the more primitive version of myself; that is exactly the version I’ve sought out these struggles to embrace. I toss the scanner aside without a second though, hearing it clatter off a different desk further down. I take a deep breath as I stare for a fraction of a moment at the blonde who has just been kicking my ass
And then I let out a snarl, and hurl myself at you! A primal war-cry, as my fingers go for your hair. My body slams into yours as you try to shake off the hit… chest hitting chest. The chair tips over and crashes backwards as I plow into you. I think I might have heard some splintering of wood, but I don’t care if I did or didn’t…. the force of the blow knocks us to the ground with you beneath me, tipping us between two book cases. I slip my knees to a side, straddling you even as we push free of the remains of the chair, and I snarl, one hand in your hair as I sit up, the other (my left) slapping at your face angrily! WHACK!
*As I sit on the chair, my chest heaves up and down hard, making my entire upper body seem to be pumping almost like a bellows. After seeing that first spot of red on my fingers, I immediately put my hand up to my nose again, but when I pull it away the blood doesn’t seem to be gushing out. Just a few spotted stains on my skin. Nothing too serious. I look up at you, my mouth open to hurl an insult when you launch yourself at me* You dirty. . . WHAAAAA!!!!! *As your body plows into mine, chest to chest, abs to abs as the chair goes toppling over*
*There is a splintering of wood, but you push us clear of the chair and immediately straddle me, both of your knees on either side of my body as you sit right on my abs. Jerking my head by my hair your first slap lands, almost making my eyes cross* AAAIIIEEE!! *Both of my hands coming up to try and cover my face as you start raining slaps down over and over and over again*
I slap *WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! * but after the first blow or two your arms come up on reflex to protect yourself, as they should… you’re too good a fighter just lay there and take that. My right hand, still in your hair, lifts your head up and then smacks the back of it down again into the thin carpet, trying to daze you. I push up from my knees, getting to my feet as both hands go to your hair, dragging your body with me… then I twist to my right, trying to slam your left side into the book cases… I release your hair and grab at your right wrist, trying to twist you with it into a wristlock behind your back, to force your front into the bookshelves as I try to work the wrist up your back, leaning into you. My body presses at your back.
“You wanna tap, bitch!” I snarl in your ear as I JERK your wrist, trying to cause pain in your shoulder. “Before I break something!” I growl… not really thinking that is an option, but wanting to play some mind games with you now, wanting to tear into that sense of confidence you show
*I get my arms up as quickly as I can as your slaps rain down on my now protective barrier. It still stings, but it’s much more bearable than taking those blows on my face. How could I have let this happen again?? I should have put you down and out when I had the chance. And then another smack of my head against the floor sends flashes of light and pain across my eyes* Nnnggghhh. . . *Really dazed now, my legs can barely support my weight as you drag me back up to my feet by my hair. Gawd this bitch. . . this amazing, glorious, vicious BITCH!!! First my left side is smacked into the stacks and I struggle to keep my knees from buckling. But then you grab my right wrist, and jerk it up behind me*
*That same arm that you were torturing before. The pain is double what it would normally be and I let out a screech of pain as you force me up onto my tip toes. I feel your body against my back, your boobs mushrooming out in your top as they press into me* Aaiiieeee!!!!!! *Shaking my head I turn it to the left, reaching up with my free hand I grab a particularly large hard cover book, and with as much leverage as I can, I swing it back over my shoulder, trying to smack it into the side of your head. ANYTHING to make you let go of my damaged arm*
“No!? Sure about that!?” I snarl bringing out my inner bitch. You draw it out of me; I’ve never felt as much rage and fury as when fighting you. “Sure about that?” I snarl and work the hold higher and grind your body into the shelves more, your legs, waist, ribs, and face press into the bookshelves as I lean against you, and press hard. I am about to ask you again when your free hand gropes for something and then WHAM! My head stings as something hard smacks into it, and I release your hold, staggering back into the opposite shelves behind me. I shake my head, trying to clear it, as I see you starting to move… a hiss escapes my lips as my chest heaves, sweat coating my body.
*I can feel your rage as you grind me against the stacks. My hips, my abs, my boobs, all being racked against the shelving and books. But my desperate tactic pays off. I feel the jolt of the impact run up through my left arm before you let my right arm go. Turning around, I cradle my right arm in front of me. Just those few moments caught up in the wrist lock has almost made my arm numb and I’m honestly nervous about how much use it will be at this point. Glaring over at you, both of us covered in sweat, streaks from our tears run down our cheeks. I’ve never been in a fight like this ever. One so intense, so vicious, so primal. And the pain only adds to the sensation of it. We’re only separated by a few feet*
*And I take those few steps to come right to you. My relatively uninjured left arm comes up to grab at the front of your sports bra. I can feel the material, damp from sweat, in my fingers. digging curling my fingers in over the top I jerk your upper body down as hard as I can, and the lifting my right knee aim the point left boob* You. . . fucking. . .BITCH!!! *Just hurling words at you, not even sure if they make any sense*
Staggered by the blow from what I can now see was a heavy, hardbound book, as it falls to the floor, your fingers unclenching from it, I let out a groan. I shake my head, my chest and body heaving. My head was rung earlier in the fight, most recently against the reference desk, and the blow just makes that worse. I gasp for air as I blink and shake my head. Both of our bodies covered in sweat and bruises and rug burns. Tears on our cheeks, and just a couple of dots of blood at your nose and upper lip. I am about to try to mount another assault when you snarl at me and grab at the shoulder strap of my sports bra…
Doubled over as you jerk me forward, the material sliding towards my shoulder, I feel your knee and thigh slamming up into my left breast, crushing it against my ribcage. I let out an agonized gasp of pain as you drive into me. Everything hurts… but my pride not least of all. I let out a snarl and push off the carpet and book case behind me with my toes, trying to slam my shoulder forward into your body as I try to slam your back into the bookcase! I don’t have anything as eloquent as “You fucking bitch,” I just manage a snarl and a growl as my body uncoils like a spring, slamming into you.
*I feel my knee impact that delightfully firm yet giving flesh and I hear the gasp of pain as it crushes against your chest. I’ve just lifted my knee for another impact when you suddenly surge forward. Your shoulder slams into my body, almost like a spear, and with only one foot on the ground initially I’m hurled back until I slam into the bookcase* AAARRGGGHHH!! *My back arches as my head is thrown back. My knees wobble and I know it’s only the pressure of your shoulder pinning me to the bookcase that keeps me on my feet. Shaking with pain, rage, exhaustion, I look down at your back*
*And see the bright red patches on your skin from your rug burns. Reaching down I set my manicured nails into the skin of your back and then rake them up. Not hard enough to break skin, but I aim them to scrape hard across every rug burn that I can*
AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! I arch my back, releasing your waist as I straighten up violently in front of you, knocking your arms to aside as I stand. For a moment time kind of freezes. We stand there, toe to toe, eye to eye, bodies lined up. A mirror, sort of… both hurt, both sweating and aching, one blonde, one brunette. We both gasp for air, and fury burns in both of our eyes. We are two intense warriors, focused on their rival, and no other thoughts in their minds. That moment lasts a split second, but we both see the recognition in each other’s eyes that we caught it. Then “ARRRRRRRRRGHH” turns to ‘GRRRRRRRRRRRRR!” as my hands shoot to your hair, arms extending as I try to pin your back against the bookcase
My left knee slams up, trying to drive itself into your firm stomach, using your belly button as a target, as I try to pay you back for the attacks on my abs. “FUCK YOU, STEPH, YOU CHEAP FUCKING BLONDE WHORE!” I scream, no rational thought behind the words, just a torrent of verbal abuse to vent the pain in my body on its cause. My chest still aches, my abs still ache, my head still aches… and now I have red lines of stinging pain on my back wear the salty sweat is already settling in..
*Your upper body shoots up and for that split second your right, time seems to freeze. And as we stare at each other it’s almost like all the barriers fall away and you’re looking right into the very essence of the other person. And for some reason that split second, which feels like it last years, only adds to my respect for you. Which in turn only increases my desire to beat you, and that increases my burning rage that I haven’t been able to put you away* NNNGGHH!!! *Pushed back against the bookcase again and your knee comes up hard, smacking right into my abs* UUFF!!!!! *Air rushing out of my mouth, only your grip in my hair keeping me from doubling over*
*Gasping for breath, I’m honestly not sure what either of us has left at this point. But neither of us is willing to give in, not an inch. Not until we have absolutely nothing left. With a gasping groan, I kick out with my right foot, aiming at your left knee that I had worked over what feels like forever ago. My arms shoot up to shove against your shoulders, trying to create some kind of distance between us*
I feel your foot slam into my left knee and I throw my head back, crying out in agony. Your arms shoot forward against my shoulders, forcing space between us. I wince… panting, my leg feels like it is on fire, your kick re-awakening the pain from earlier. I lean on my right foot, taking the pressure off my left as I grind my teeth, trying to ignore the waves of pain that are screaming at me. My eyes meet yours once again, as your shoving lets you straighten somewhat.
My hands shift, moving to your slender throat. I squeeze tightly on it as I try to force your head back against the book case. My eyes blaze as I stare into yours… my fingers tightening, the muscles in my arms and shoulders straining as I clamp down. My nails dig into your soft skin as I hiss in fury, not able to form words… just wanting to squeeze down on this FUCKING BLONDE BEAST! GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!
*I feel my foot impact your knee and the scream of pain as my shove forces you to hobble away from me. There’s no words left for the rage, the respect, the fury, we have for each other. We’ve pushed ourselves past any limits of any past matches. I lean forward, putting my hands on my thighs as I gasp and cough, trying to get some kind of regular breathing pattern back. But you don’t give me any time. In an instant your hands are around my throat and I’m against forced back up against the bookcase. I can tell you want to squeeze me out, choke me out. Leave me unconscious for your win. My hands go to your fingers first, trying to try them off, but your grip is like iron. Omg. . . how can she still be so strong??*
*My mouth opens and closes, trying to gup down air as my face starts to turn red. I can’t breathe! I’m not getting any air at all!!!! This could all be over in just a few seconds. There’s only one thing I can think of. Wrapping my hands around your wrists, I let my already wobbling knees fold up under me, trying to drop my body down and use that to propel you forward and smack your face against the metal shelving*
My jaw works as I clench and unclench it, trying to funnel all my pain into my fingers. And it works… I can see the fear in your eyes, the pain, the agony as my grip clamps tightly, pressing your back and head into the bookcase shelves, which give you nowhere to go. I can feel your skin beneath my fingers and nails, as I squeeze and crush. Your eyes go wide and I know I have you. I HAVE YOU. I am superior. I’m dominant. I’m in control. I… fucking… win. The surge of emotions is so incredible, it is almost like a high. And your body starts to sag… and I know this is it. Part of my rational mind screams “Fine, but don’t fucking send her to the hospital” and I don’t really argue with it, but I want you… out.
As you sag, I feel that high start to kick in, but you aren’t just sagging under my choke… no, you are a fucking crafty bitch, and from your lower position you jerk your arms forward with (what I hope is the last of your strength!) and yank my forehead forward into the book case you just slipped beneath. My head gives out a DONG as it slams right into the metal. I feel my world spin as I crash to my knees, my hands instantly going limp, flopping against your as I limply slump into you, groaning as the unexpected slam at my moment of victory overwhelms me…
*The drop down works better than I could have hoped! And it’s a good thing, because another 30 seconds of that choke and I would have been out. Out and done. I just curl up on my knees as your fingers come off my throat. My own hands rub at my neck as my forehead rests on the carpet. I feel you stink down to your knees and your upper body drapes across my back. Omg. . . I managed to get out of that, but what could I possibly do next? What have I got left that I haven’t tried. Crawling slowly out from under you, I know that if I don’t work something out to follow up with I may as well tap to you right now. reaching out to snag your hair with my right hand I have to use my still tingling left arm to PULL me up to my feet*
*But I don’t even have the strength left to pull you up with me. Instead, I just stagger back towards the study tables, dragging you along behind me. I don’t know how conscious you are, if you are at all, but the drive in me to keep going burns as hot as anything* Come. . . on. . . cunt. . . *My voice a hoarse rasp* Time to finish this. . . *As we emerge into the study area and without the bookcase for me to grip I stumble and fall to my hands and knees. But with everything I’ve got left I work to drag you over to one of the study tables*
*As we reach the study table I place your head right next to one of them legs. Looking down I see that your eyes are fluttering, half open, half closed. It’s clear you’re not all the way out, but you’re clearly not too aware of what’s going on. With the top of your head right at the table leg I grab your hair with both hands, getting a handful in each, and then wrap it around the table leg. That long gorgeous dark hair. With so much length I’m able to tie a simple knot in it. Hair isn’t the best for that, but I’m hoping with how much length you have that it will hold for long enough*
*reaching out with my left hand I start smacking you in the face. Not really super hard, but enough to jolt you* Hey . . . wake up!!
I feel a wave of sensations… jostled around, bumped, pulled, dragged. My scalp is on fire, but my scalp has been on fire so much I don’t remember when that practically became background noise in my brain. I feel myself slump to the ground as I’m pushed/shoved… the rough carpet pressing into my side but that is the least of my concerns. I lay there, moaning and gasping, my body squirming as my legs twitch and writhe. I pant… it wasn’t noticeable before, but a small cut on my forehead from where it caught the edge of the bookcase is now visible, as slender strands of crimson snake down my forehead…
I feel a slap… SMACK and my eyes flutter open. I see your face hovering over me. I hiss and lunge on instinct, but my head doesn’t move, and my scalp suddenly STINGS sharply… my dizzy, foggy brain can’t comprehend what has happened. My hands reach up, pawing at your face, though I’m too disoriented at the moment to do much damage. My jaw hangs open as a bit of saliva drools out…
*My hand comes down on your cheek and as I does I see your eyes start to open a little bit more. There’s disorientation there, but then the realization of where you are comes back and you try and lunge up at me. The table actually jerks a bit as you reach the end of you “tether” and your body flops back down to the floor. As your hands come up to my face I grab at your wrists, holding them in my grip* I wanted you awake for this Becca. . . *Using your name now, but my voice is such a gravelly croak I barely recognize it. Staggering up to my feet, your wrists still in my hands* You’re fucking done Becca. . . *Not sure I’ve got enough strength left for this, but I’m gonna try*
*Standing over you, straddling your body, I lift up my right leg and set it against the table leg to steady myself, and keep it in place. And then I lean back, pulling at your arms, yanking your body out until your hair pulls tight against the knot around the table leg* Scream you bitch!!! *Throwing back my head and putting every ounce of my rapidly fading strength into this last desperate maneuver*
I feel you grab at my arm as you situate yourself over me… even with the slap, I am not really focused, so you are a blur of vengeful, angry bitch above me. I feel you grab my arm, and yank. My arm stings, as you pull hard, the muscles in my shoulder yelp in pain. But that is nothing… NOTHING… compared to the pain in my scalp. You’ve attacked my hair all fight (I’ve done the same, fair is fair) but this is a whole new level of pain as you pull my body towards you even as the desk is resisting, and my hair (and scalp) are caught in the middle. I scream in agony, too dazed and rattled by the shot to my head to resist your order. You shout “Scream you bitch” and, on cue, I scream. “AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!
My chest heaves as I can’t help but waste precious breath on screaming in pain. My eyes are squeezed shut, tears mixing with the sweat that plasters my face. My feet kick the cheap, industrial carpet and my hands paw at your legs meaninglessly. I scream in agony as you yank and pull. My chest heaves as I gulp in air between screams. The pain softens and dies down as your grip slackens…. I slump, panting and moaning… feeling more helpless than I have ever felt in my life: no way out, no way to stop this, completely out of control. I HATE that feeling, but am helpless before it.
and then the sting comes again as you get a second wind and pull harder once more, ripping even more screams of agony out of my body. My scalp feels like it is on fire. My arm aches, but I barely notice that in the wake of the other pain you inflict. I shout, howling to the heavens, but no diving intervention comes. My body flails like an electric current has been run through it, and I shout in a hoarse, pain-wracked voice “STOP!!! STOP!!! I GIVE!!! STOPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” as tears flow down my cheeks.
*I pulled back hard that first time, my fingers tight around your wrists. I pulled and pulled and pulled!! And then at some point I realized that as I pulled I was holding my breath!! Spots starting to dance before my eyes. Loosening up on your arms I force myself to take in some deep breaths through my mouth, the air stinging my airway. And then I haul back one more time. The strain showing in my arms, the muscles straining under my skin. And then those words. . . the words I’ve been dying to hear, dreaming of ever since that night on the yacht reach my ears. At first I’m not sure I’ve actually heard them. Could I. . . did I actually. . . and looking down I see the tears steam down your cheeks*
*And like a puppet who’s strings have been cut I sink down to my knees and then with no energy left I collapse down half on top of you, my head resting next to your face. Our bodies plastered together with sweat and tears. My own eyes flutter open and shut as the adrenaline leeches out of my body. I don’t know how long we lay there. Minutes? Hours? at some point our breathing synchronizes and our bodies actually move together up. . . and down. . . up and down. . .*
I scream out the words I have never said to anyone on this app, ever before. I feel the pain go on… and on… and on… like an eternity. It is only a moment, but in my mind, the “magic key” to end the pain didn’t work… and even more tears flow. But then the pain stops. Well, that’s not even close to true. The pain ceases to get worse. My entire body is wracked with pain, but the torture on my scalp ends. I feel a weight crash atop me, not battering me, but grinding me down, like a weight on my shoulders, like a weight around my ankles if I were trying to run a mile, like an omni-present cloud of heaviness… I gasp and squrim, but only weakly, beneath you. We hang there for a period of time.
I am drifting in and out of consciousness, so I couldn’t come close to figuring out how much. But I lay there, and you lay atop me, kneeling over me. Our bodies heave as we both reflexively gasp for breath. Sweat drips off of you onto me, but I don’t and can’t do anything about it. We heave, gasp, and moan: sometimes in unison, sometimes separately. The library, recently filled with snarls, curses, gasps, and screams is nearly silent, just our panting and wincing filling the silence. I feel your weight pressing down on me and I shift slightly, trying to bear it better, but in my agony and pummeled state, I can barely manage that…
*I think it’s your slight movement underneath me that finally starts to bring me back from the edge of unconsciousness. It’s kind of like when you’ve fallen asleep with someone and they’re shifting their weight, trying to get more comfortable. And instinctively I roll to my side, so I’m not on you anymore. Oddly enough, considering what we’ve just put each other through, now that the fight’s over, I don’t have any real desire to hurt you more. I can’t believe what we did to each other. The area around us is a mess. Chairs knocked over, books scattered all over the floor. That column has a big crack in it. Lord only knows that they’ll make of the mess when whoever finds its reports back*
*It feels like it takes all the energy I have left just to turn my head and then move my arms to work the knot out of your hair. Laying there on my stomach, while you’re on your back. I reach across with my left arm and put it on your shoulder* You. . . ok. . . ? *Wanting to make sure. This is one of the most violent fights I’ve been in, and I just want to make sure*
I squirm weakly as consciousness seeps into my brain. I gasp and groan. Every muscle in my body screams at me, shouting “WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DRIVE OUT OF THE CITY TO THIS SHITTY LITTLE COLLEGE LIBRARY TO MAKE US SUFFER” and I squeeze my eyes shut again to shut them up. It … well, I can’t say it works, but it softens the blow. I feel jostled and there are words, words that don’t really sink into my head at first. I let out a gasp of pain as my scalp is yanked once more, but then the pain subsides. I squirm onto my back and after what is probably the third try (someone is counting, but it sure as fuck isn’t me) I hear “you ok?” I nod weakly, but event that feels … not as bad as my submission, but not great.
I have to reassure someone I am ok. That is not a position of strength. That is not a position of control. That is weakness. But … but I comply. I croak out a hoarse “Ugh… yeah” and weakly try to crawl forward, nails digging into the rough, harsh carpet as I try to drag myself from under you, desperate to salvage anything I can after what just happened.
*As you crawl away, I just barely have the strength to lift my head and watch. But eventually I force myself up into a sitting position. I can’t believe what we’ve put each other through tonight. Leaning back on another one of the tables, letting my head rest against it. My mouth hangs half open and I groan as every muscle in my body feels like it wants to tighten up at once. And then a sudden thought flashes through my head* Fuck. . . *I moan* I still have to drive back tonight. . . *Wincing as I shift my position slightly*
I squirm free of you and crawl forward, feeling the rough, merciless carpet scraping my body like sandpaper. I flop over onto my back, chest heaving. I wipe my mouth of drool and sweat and glance over at you. “Sucks… to… be… you…” I pant, with no particular venom. I let out a low moan of pain, and then force myself to my elbows. My gaze wavers then focuses on your eyes.
“I… planned ahead… and got the presidential suite…” I think, recalling the upgrade they gave me. “So who’s the fucking loser now?” I ask, though I know I am not even coming close to convincing you of anything other than I screamed out my submission minutes/hours/an eternity ago
*Grimacing at you, trying not to let your words dig at me. And really, the win was worth it. Looking over at you, I let a half grin pull at the corners of my mouth* I guess you need. . . some kind of. . . consolation. . . prize. . . *Working my fingers through my hair, feeling what a tangled rats nest it is now. And then looking at you again, I raise one hand* 1. . . and 1. . .