Rivals by Brent

Mary was walking across the campus with a purpose on this warm, mid-fall afternoon. The English beauty was heading to the library mumbling to herself as she went, not caring if any of the other students noticed, though none did. “Sixty thousand students at this school, sixty thousand! And I end up with that snotty bitch as a lab partner!” Mary stopped speaking and shook her head, her dark brown shoulder length hair swinging back and forth. “I’ll never last the rest of the semester with this bitch. No way,” Mary muttered, moving more quickly now, her long shapely legs moving smoothly, clearly visible in her shorts, her big 36-C bust jiggling slightly. “If I have to take much more of her arrogant shit, I’m going to kick her Pakistani ass.”

The ass Mary wanted to kick on this sunny morning belonged to Syeda, and she was, indeed, Pakistani, and, like Mary, she was a graduate student at the university. The pair had been assigned as partners in master’s chemistry and had been working together for the better part of six weeks.

Things started off well enough, but had gone down hill quickly. The two women were both extremely bright and both understood the material well. But they did not work well together. Their grades had not suffered for it. Both were doing well in the course. But, their personal relationship had become almost poisonous. It had gotten so bad that both women now dreaded the course and couldn’t wait until the semester ended. But that was over seven weeks away.

Mary sighed and shook her head again. “No,” she mumbled. “I can do this. Just get me through to Christmas break and this bitch will be out of my…”

“Life!” said Syeda on the other side of campus. She was sitting in one of the student lounges talking to her friend Anita. “I want her out of my life,” the dusky beauty said, playing with her shoulder-lengthy shiny black hair. “I just don’t understand her. I mean, I get along with everybody, everybody but…”

“Her!” Mary said, walking even more quickly. “She just drives me completely…”

“Crazy!” Syeda said. “Nothing I do is ever good enough and she has this damn superior…”

“Attitude!” Mary mumbled. “That’s the bitch’s problem. She acts like she’s so much better than me, like she knows everything. She’s so…”

“Condescending!” Syeda said, shaking her head. “She treats me like a little kid and acts like I’m a total idiot. I mean, I was a damn Summa Cum…”

“Laude, too!” Mary said. “And if I have to hear about her damn GPA one more time, I swear to God I’m going to ram a beaker up her…”

“Nose in everything I try to do!” Syeda said, growing more animated now. “If she’d just let me handle my part of the work and mind her own…”

“Damn business,” Mary said, nearing the library now. “She just needs to mind her own damn business for a change and listen when I make a…”

“Suggestion! That’s all I wanted to do, Anita. Make a suggestion! And she got all defensive and pissy. Oh, God she just drives me…”

“Nuts!” Mary mumbled. “I think the bitch is whacked out. I think she’s gone off the deep end.” Then, the lovely Englishwoman started to giggle and said, under her breath, “Then again, she’s not the one walking across campus and talking to…”

“Herself,” Syeda said, shaking her head sadly, “All she thinks about is herself. Well, I want good marks in this course, too, and I’m damn sure not going to put everything in her…”

“Hands around her skinny little throat and just squeeze!” Mary said with a grin. “God wouldn’t that be…”

“Nice to her, I really try,” Syeda continued, “But she’s just so damn mean and nasty. One of these days, Anita, I swear I’m going to snap and knock her on her…

“Ass!” Mary mumbled. “I’d just love to kick her ass and wipe that smarmy expression off …”

“Her damn face,” Syeda said, struggling to keep calm. “I’m just sick of looking at it. And, Anita, there are days when I just want to…”

“Smash it for her,” Mary said giggling. “Arrogant little…”

“Bitch!” Syeda continued. “She’s such a…”

“Bitch,” Mary said, approaching the doors to the library. The Englishwoman then took a deep breath and opened the door trying to put Syeda out of her mind so she could get some studying done.

Her counterpart continued her discussions with Anita for a few moments longer. Finally, her friend patted her hand and said, “Hell, Syeda, the semester’s almost half over. Just hang in there, get your ‘A’, and, after that, fuck her. She’ll be out of your hair.”

Syeda smiled, a lovely smile, and said, “You’re right, of course, Anita. Why do I let her bother me? It’s just that she pisses me off so much!”

“Listen,” Anita replied, “Relax. Tomorrow’s Friday. A few of us are headed out. Come. Forget about school and the English bitch for a few hours and have some fun, OK?”

Syeda considered the offer for a few seconds, then nodded her head. “I’ve got some studying this weekend, but I can get it done Sunday. I think a night out would be fun.”

“Good!” Anita said, rising from the booth she and the Pakistani beauty had been sharing. “Then it’s a date. I’ll call you tonight and let you know the details.”

“Great,” Syeda replied, getting to her feet as well. She smoothed the dark skirt absentmindedly over her shapely lower legs and pushed her hair back with her hands. “I’m looking forward to it!”

With that, the two women parted, Anita headed for class and Syeda back to her off campus apartment. The latter thought of taking the bus, but the day was nice enough that she decided to walk. She didn’t have another class today, so she had the time.

But, as she walked slowly across campus, under trees now alive with fall colors, all she could think about was Mary. She tried, of course, to concentrate on the beauty surrounding her, her studies or the night out scheduled for tomorrow, but she could not. No, Mary was too much on her mind.

It wasn’t until she neared the outskirts of campus that Syeda came back to herself enough to realize what she was doing. She was walking very quickly, legs taking long, smooth strides, lovely 34-C breasts juggling slightly beneath her top, muttering to herself about her lab partner.

She stopped dead, just a couple of blocks from her apartment now, and said, under her breath, “All right, that’s it. That’s the last I will think about that bitch until Tuesday, when, God help me, I’ve got to deal with her again. That arrogant shit is not going to ruin my weekend. I’ll have fun and forget she even exists.”

But the fates had a different idea.

Syeda, Anita, and a changing group of others had been out having fun for a few hours that Friday night when they decided to head for a favorite university watering hole around 11PM. The place was packed when they arrived, and the group immediately fell in with several other friends.

Syeda found herself at a table with Anita and two men, Gary and Paul, both of whom Anita knew casually. The group had a good time making small talk about school and the girlfriends of the two men, both of whom were absent due to a “girls night out” that evening. It took about half an hour for the subject Syeda had put out of her mind to come up.

“Tell the guys about your nut job lab partner,” the slightly tipsy Anita said.

“Oh, I don’t want to…” Syeda began.

But now Gary and Paul, also buzzing a bit but far from drunk, were interested. “Come on, tell us about her,” Gary said.

“Yeah,” Paul chimed in. “Don’t leave us hanging.”

Syeda, who never drank and was, as a result, the only stone sober member of the group, sighed and began telling the story, much to the amusement of her companions.

“She sounds like a real bitch!” Gary chimed in after a few minutes.

“Yeah,” Paul said, “I feel sorry for you. What did you say her name was?”

And, when Syeda told him, Paul began to laugh. “The English chick? Shit, I know her! We had some classes together the last couple of years.”

“Then, I feel sorry for you,” Syeda said with a grin.

The subject then changed and other matters were discussed for another half-hour or so. Just after midnight, Syeda, Anita and their group left for another bar. And, as luck would have it, Mary and a friend showed up about 15 minutes after Syeda had gone out the door.

Paul saw Mary come through the door and said to Gary, “Wanna have some fun?”

Gary looked over at his buddy and said, “Sure, what do you have in mind?”

Paul said, “See that girl who just walked in? That’s the girl Syeda was talking about!”

“No shit?” Gary replied. “Christ, she’s a hottie, just like Syeda!”

“No doubt,” Paul said, waving his hand to get Mary’s attention.

The Englishwoman walked over to the table, greeted Paul, and introduced him to her friend, a short blonde named Donna. Paul then introduced the ladies to Gary and invited them to have a seat. Ironically, Mary sat down in the same seat Syeda had occupied less than half an hour before. Donna took the chair Anita had sat in.

Gary offered to get a round of drinks for everyone and disappeared in the crowd near the bar. Paul made small talk with the ladies until Gary returned. When everyone had their drink, Paul dropped the bomb. “Hey, Mary, guess who we saw tonight?”

“No idea, Paul,” Mary said, smiling. She could tell by the look on his face that, whoever it was, Paul had an interesting story to tell.

“Your lab partner,” he said with a grin.

Mary’s mind didn’t process the information immediately, but the light went on fairly quickly. “Syeda?” Mary said.

“Yes,” Paul replied. “In fact, she was sitting right where you are until about midnight.”

“Christ,” Mary said, shaking her head, “I’m glad she left before I got here. I have to look at her ugly face enough during class.”

“Well, the feeling is apparently mutual,” Paul said laughing.

“Why?” Mary shot back, serious now. “What did she say?”

“Oh, nothing really…”

“Paul, if that bitch was talking about me behind my back, I want to know about it. Now, tell me!”

Paul looked at Gary and shrugged his shoulders, pretending as if this were not his intent all along. “Well, if you want me to…”

“I insist,” the Englishwoman said, stressing the latter of the two words.

“She said that you two don’t get along very well and that she doesn’t like you very much. In fact, she said you’re bossy and you don’t listen to her suggestions…”

“That is such bullshit!” Mary said, getting upset now.

“That’s not the worst of it,” Gary said, stirring the pot. “I believe Paul, if I remember correctly, that the word ‘bitch’ was used several times.”

“That’s right, palomino, it was,” Paul said smiling. “In fact, she said she felt sorry for anybody who knew you.”

“Why that little slut!” Mary said, fuming. “I can’t believe she’s running around campus talking about me! I’m gonna kick her ass!”

“Calm down, Mare,” Donna said. “Have your drink and relax. It’s the weekend, remember? You don’t have to deal with that bitch until next week.”

Mary thought about that a second and started to laugh. “Yeah, you’re right Donna. Let’s have fun tonight. But, deal with that bitch, I shall. I’ve had all of her I can take.”

The group remained together for about an hour, with Mary and Donna taking their leave well after 1 AM. When they’d gone, Gary looked at Paul and said, “If they really fought, who do you think would win?”

“They’re not gonna fight, Gare. If they did, who knows? But, I’ll tell you one thing, buddy, if they DID fight, I’d sure love to be there to watch it, because those two babes sure would look hotter than hell fighting it out.”

“That they would, Paul. That they would.”

Syeda came to class Tuesday morning in a good mood. The weekend had gone well, and she’d enjoyed her night out. She’d had a good day yesterday and resolved to do the same today. She was surprised to find that Mary also seemed to be in a positive frame of mind.

The two women got along extremely well all throughout class that day, and Syeda noticed that Mary seemed to be working very hard to be considerate and helpful. The Pakistani beauty left the class in an even better mood, but was far from convinced Mary’s behavior would continue. But it did.

Throughout the next seven weeks, the pair’s relationship seemed to repair itself completely. Syeda matched Mary’s new attitude with one of her own and the class went from being something the Pakistani girl dreaded to being just another class on her schedule. And then came the biggest surprise of all.

The last actual class session had just wrapped up and the two women were heading out the door when Mary stunned Syeda with a question. “Hey, what’s your schedule for the weekend?” the Englishwoman asked.

“Well…I’m not sure, why?” Syeda replied.

“I’m thinking that today is Thursday and the final is next Tuesday. Now, I’ve got another final Monday…”

“As do I,” Syeda interrupted, thinking out loud.

“I was wondering if, maybe, we could find some time to get together this weekend to study.”

“I…sure…I guess…when…” Syeda stammered.

“OK, tomorrow is out. I’ve got class and then a bunch of us are going out. I’ll be pretty busy Saturday, too. But, Sunday, my roommate will be away all day and I should be finished studying for Monday’s test, so…”

Syeda smiled a lovely smile. “I think Sunday would be fine. I want to do well on the final, and a study session with you would help.”

“I agree. I think Sunday will help a lot,” Mary said with a grin.

“What time should I be there?” Syeda asked, innocently.

“Let’s get a fairly early start. How about 11? And I’ll buy lunch!”

“Sounds great,” the dark beauty said, and turned to go. And, as the two women went their separate ways, only one of them had any idea what was in store for her that weekend. And that “one” was not Syeda.

When Sunday came, the Pakistani stunner dressed simply and casually. It was getting chilly now, as December had arrived, so she put on a pair of comfortable jeans, sneakers and a sweatshirt, brushed out her glossy black shoulder-length hair, tossed on a coat, grabbed her books and headed for the bus stop.

She was able to easily follow the directions Mary had given her and arrived at the latter’s apartment building a few minutes early. She used the buzzer, and Mary let her in. The Englishwoman lived on the building’s seventh and highest floor, so Syeda used the elevator.

When she arrived on Mary’s floor, she walked slowly down the hallway looking for the door to her partner’s apartment. “Figures,” Syeda said, smiling and shaking her head when she found it. “Last one.” She knocked, and the Englishwoman immediately slid back the chain, undid the bolt, and opened the door.

Mary was dressed much like Syeda, wearing sweatpants instead of jeans with her sweatshirt. Her shoulder-length brown hair was also loose, and, of course, she wore no coat. She quickly offered to take Syeda’s, then hung the wrap up in the closet.

While Mary was doing that, the Pakistani woman looked around at the apartment. The door had opened into what was apparently the living room. But the room contained absolutely no furniture save for a pair of beanbag chairs sitting in the middle of the brown carpeted floor. Off to the left, offset by a half-wall, was the kitchen and dining area. This contained appliances, but no table or chairs. Off to the right was a hall, which, presumably, led to the bathroom and the two bedrooms.

“Have a seat,” Mary said, gesturing toward the chair facing the door. Syeda sat down, piling her books in front of the chair, and Mary stood in front of the other chair, which was facing Syeda. The Pakistani noticed that Mary had no books with her, which was strange…

“So, where should we start?” Syeda asked, looking up at her partner.

“Well, let’s start with this, you fucking backstabbing little whore…”

“What…” Syeda stammered, stunned by what Mary had just said.

The Englishwoman kept talking. “Oh, don’t think I don’t know you’ve been talking about me all over campus, you slut.”

Syeda rose, took a step toward the door and said, “I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m leaving!”

Mary stepped in front of the angry, somewhat frightened Pakistani, blocking her way, and said, “Like fuck you are, you bitch. We are going to settle this today, once and for all, and if you want to leave this room, you’re going to have to go through me!”

“Mary, you’re crazy, now get out of my way or…”

“Or what, whore? Do you have any idea where you are? Look around. This isn’t my apartment. Nobody lives here. In fact, nobody lives on the whole damn floor!”

“What…”

“That’s right, slut, nobody’s going to hear a damn thing. This building belongs to Paul’s father. You remember Paul? He’s the guy you told how much of a bitch I was…”

“Paul…oh, God…from the bar?”

“That’s right. Well, I did a little talking to Paul and told him I was going to kick your arrogant brown ass. He suggested I use this place. It’s going to be torn down in a year or so, and there are only a few residents left here. There probably aren’t more than 10 people in this building right now, and they’re all on the lower floors. They won’t hear you scream. Nobody will. Nobody but me, and I’m going to fucking enjoy that sound.”

As Syeda’s mind raced to try to catch up with events and somehow come up with a method of dealing with her current situation, she began to wonder if Mary was telling the truth. In fact, she was, with one small exception, an exception that would make no difference to Syeda at all. There was, indeed, someone else who would hear Syeda scream. And it was Paul. Unknown to Syeda, Paul was hidden away in the back bedroom. A small peephole had been broken through a wall that bedroom shared with the living room. And Paul’s eye was pressed to that hole right now. It had been his price for helping Mary set up the fight. Paul wanted to watch, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

Paul watched as the stunned Syeda took a step back from her lab partner. He noted that the two appeared to be an even physical match for the coming battle. Mary was an inch shorter at 5’5”, but, at 125 pounds, the Englishwoman had five pounds on her Pakistani counterpart. Both were 23 years old and had C-cup breasts, though the heavier Mary measured 36 across her chest, while Syeda’s measurement was a more modest 34.

Paul’s reverie was broken when the taller girl screamed as Mary darted forward and grabbed her hair with both hands. Before Syeda knew what was happening, she was staggering backward, trying to pull Mary’s hands from her hair. Mary, though, held on and continued forcing her rival backward until the backs of Syeda’s legs came in contact with one of the beanbag chairs.

The Pakistani lost her balance and began to fall backward. Mary released her hair and allowed her opponent to go over. When Syeda landed, her shapely rear end was in one of the chairs and her head rested on the other, with her upper body hanging between them. The dark beauty didn’t move. She just lay there groaning and rubbing her scalp, which was on fire.

With a smile, Mary dove on top of her foe, reaching for the hair again. This time, though, Mary’s plan went awry, because, she hit Syeda, with most of her weight on one side, and, as the lighter woman gasped from the impact, she was dislodged her unstable position on the chairs. And, as Mary was on top of Syeda, she began to fall as well. The result was that Mary rolled off of Syeda and hit the floor on her back. As the fall was a short one, the impact did her no harm. However, as Mary landed, Syeda, also rolling off the chairs, landed on top of her. Again, the impact was negligible, but the dark beauty was now in the commanding position.

The second attack seemed to wake up Syeda, who grabbed hold of Mary’s hair and began twisting the Englishwoman’s head cruelly from one side to the other. Now it was Mary who’s screams Paul heard as Syeda jerked hard on her rival’s brown tresses. “You want to fight, Mary? Then let’s fight, you bitch!” the now furious Pakistani screamed, as she began lifting Mary’s head up by the hair and slamming it against the floor.

The Englishwoman groaned, pulling at Syeda’s hands while turning and twisting to try to knock the taller woman from her perch. Syeda, though, held on and kept her weight on top of Mary, continuing to twist her head and pound it off the floor. Then, lightning flashed before Syeda’s eyes and pain tore into the right side of her head. She gasped, “Ohhhh!” and fell to her left side, her hands coming away from Mary’s hair to her own aching head. Her eyes had involuntarily closed tight, but she opened them long enough to realize what had happened. The books! Mary had reached out with her left hand, grabbed one of Syeda’s textbooks, still sitting next to one of the chairs, and whacked the Pakistani beauty across the head with it. And damn, did it hurt!

Mary, of course, was hurting, too. Her head felt like it was about to explode from pain. Her scalp burned and the back of her head throbbed from the pounding against the floor the Pakistani had subjected it to. But, as the Englishwoman got to her knees and tossed the book aside, she vowed the bitch would be made to pay for that.

Mary crawled over to where Syeda was lying and arrived as the taller girl was struggling to get back to her knees. Mary grabbed her around the head in a front facelock and pulled her in close, then ripped three uppercut punches into the darker woman’s firm left breast. “Ahh…Ohhh…Ohhh!” screamed Syeda, as the blows slammed home. She sagged for a second, hands going to the floor as Mary squeezed her head tighter and pulled back her hand for yet another punch. Syeda, though, reached out and grabbed Mary around the waist, then drove forward.

The move surprised Mary, who began to topple over backward and lost her grip on Syeda’s head. Mary’s back hit the carpet and, again, the darker woman’s weight pressed on top of her. The Englishwoman grabbed for Syeda’s head, but the Pakistani countered with a nasty open-handed slap with her right hand across Mary’s face. “Bitch!” screamed the heavier woman as the slap landed. She then screeched “Ooooooh!” as Syeda followed up with a backhand that crashed into her right eye.

“Now, let’s see how you like it,” the enraged Syeda screamed, before closing the right fist and slamming it down into Mary’s left boob. “Oooool!” Mary yelled, and grabbed for the hand. She didn’t get it quickly enough, however, and it crashed again into her breast. “Ahhhggggghhhh!” squealed Mary as the knuckles of her rival dug deeply into the sensitive flesh.

Syeda then went back to work on Mary’s face with another slap across her mouth and nose, this one drawing blood from the latter and followed by another backhand which landed in the same place and increased the blood flow. With her opponent bloodied, Syeda went back to something that worked well before, grabbing two fistfuls of Mary’s hair.

The shorter woman, however, was having none of that. She grabbed Syeda’s shining black tresses at the same time, pulling her rival’s head down and then rolling hard to her right. Syeda lost her position and began to go over, landing on her left shoulder. The two women lay like that for a few seconds, face to face, pulling on each other’s hair, faces, etched with pain and hatred, only inches apart. Then, Syeda gasped and released Mary’s hair, her hands going to her midsection where Mary’s knee had just dug in deeply.

The Pakistani beauty choked in agony as Mary, keeping hold of her rival’s hair, got to her knees, then pulled Syeda up with her. There were tears of pain in the dark beauty’s eyes and one hand still rested on her belly as she got to a kneeling position. The other hand grabbed Mary’s right wrist and tried to pull it free from her hair. Mary dug that hand in deeper while releasing the hair with her left and using it for a stinging slap across Syeda’s lovely face. Then another. Then another.

The Pakistani now raised both hands in front of her face, trying to protect it from further damage. Mary, one hand still in her rival’s hair, held the taller woman steady, then ripped her left hand upward like a missile that detonated in the bottom of Syeda’s right breast. “Ohhhhh!” screamed Syeda, as her right hand came to her violated boob. Mary released her hair. And Syeda crumpled to the floor holding her chest and belly.

Mary, winded and hurt herself, got slowly to her feet and backed away from her downed lab partner. She stood and watched as Syeda coughed and groaned on the floor. Then she noticed the dark woman’s left hand leave her belly and flatten against the floor in preparation for pushing up to her knees. Mary stepped forward quickly and stomped down with all her weight on the hand.

“Ahhhhhhhhh!” wailed Syeda, pulling the hand in against her belly and rolling into a ball to protect it. She turned her back to Mary, but that was fine with the Englishwoman, who slammed two kicks into the battered Pakistani’s spine. Syeda squealed and jerked in pain as each kick slammed home. Then lay gasping, tears trickling down her face.

Mary wiped again at her nose. It was the third time she’d done so, and the blood was still flowing. She saw red that had nothing to do with the blood on her hand and forced Syeda flat against the floor on her belly. Mary sat down on her struggling rival’s back, then reached under her chin with both hands, locked her fingers, and pulled back hard. “Unnnnhhhhhhh….Ahhhhhhhh!” Syeda moaned, as her body was bent backward, torn between Mary’s weight in the middle of her back and her foe’s hands, pulling on her chin.

Syeda’s own hands went to Mary’s, pulling against them and trying to break them apart, but the Pakistani beauty had no luck, and Mary just kept pulling backward as hard as she could, cruelly wrenching Syeda’s back and neck.

Meanwhile, looking through his little peephole, Paul was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Too bad it’s almost over,” he thought to himself smiling. “This has been a lot of fun. Poor Syeda. I wonder what Mary has in store for her next?”

Paul, however, was underestimating Syeda. The dark beauty was hurting, but she wasn’t finished yet. The Englishwoman was feeling pretty good about herself at the moment, listening to Syeda scream and moan as she pulled back on her neck and wrenched her back. She expected the bitch to beg her to stop at any time, and, when that happened, Mary decided, she might do so. Or, she might not.

As it happened, it was a decision that Mary, to her sorrow, did not have to make. For, while she was increasing her rival’s discomfort as much as possible, she paid little note to the fact that Syeda’s hands had fallen away from her own, no longer trying to pull them apart to break the chin lock. Instead, they were now set on the floor, despite the pain in the recently-stomped left hand. Also set firmly were Syeda’s knees. And, with these four points established, the Pakistani beauty surprised the Englishwoman by doing a sort of a push-up while twisting to her left.

The push-up did exactly what the darker woman hoped it would. It unbalanced Mary, who began to slip from her perch. And, when Syeda shifted her weight left, Mary lost her position completely and began to fall. Her hands broke apart and she landed on her left side as Syeda rose up to her knees.

Mary’s momentum rolled her all the way to her back, but the Englishwoman got quickly to her stomach. Before she made it to her hands and knees, however, Syeda was on her, diving across her back, the Pakistani’s body now perpendicular to that of her foe. The crush of Syeda’s weight landing on Mary did two things. It flattened her to the carpet and knocked the wind from her body in a surprised “Oooofffff!”

With her opponent winded and hurt, Syeda applied a half nelson with her left arm, looping it through Mary’s armpit and behind her head. Mary twisted left, putting her weight on her left hip, trying to dislodge Syeda, but the Pakistani held on and looped her right hand underneath Mary’s body and grabbed hold of the Englishwoman’s right tit.

Mary screamed, “Ahhhh, you bitch!” as Syeda’s strong fingers dug through the fabric of the sweatshirt into her breast flesh. She flattened back down against the floor and used her free right hand to try to pull Syeda’s fingers away, but the Pakistani held on tight, cruelly squeezing and kneading Mary’s aching tit.

The Englishwoman, groaning in pain, finally gave up on pulling the offending hand away and tried to push up to her knees. Unlike Syeda a few moments earlier, however, Mary did not have the benefit of four solid points of balance beneath her. As Syeda had her left arm tied up in the half nelson, Mary had only the two knees and one hand. So, when she did her modified push up, Syeda simply shifted all her weight left, and, maintaining both her half nelson on the left side and her grip on Mary’s right breast, pulled her opponent over on top of herself.

Mary, instinctively, tried to turn left and spin free, but she was too slow. Syeda’s long, strong legs snapped shut around her waist, and, as Mary dropped her free hand down to pull at her rival’s sneaker-shod feet, the Pakistani’s right hand came away from the Englishwoman’s orb and slipped behind her head. The half nelson had become a full nelson. And, from his sheltered observation position, Paul, listening to Mary grunt and gasp, realized she was in deep shit.

Both Mary and Syeda understood what was happening as well. The Pakistani turned onto her right shoulder, pulling Mary over with her, to remove the brown-haired beauty’s weight from her body. Then, she shoved down with her arms, driving Mary’s chin toward her chest, while squeezing tightly with her legs, driving the breath from Mary’s midsection.

The Englishwoman was surprised by how strong Syeda’s legs were. She could feel them digging past her abdominal muscles and squeezing her belly. It was damn hard to breathe, and the bitch’s continued shoving down of her head didn’t make it any easier. She quickly realized that breaking the scissors was impossible from her current position. She had to break the full nelson first, and this she tried desperately to do. She drove back her head and twisted it and pulled at Syeda’s wrists with her hands, but the Pakistani held firm. Mary was trapped.

And the Englishwoman understood that she couldn’t remain in this position for long. She could feel the twin pressure points of the hold driving the wind from her and sapping her strength. She’d been tiring even before Syeda had applied it, and she knew the Pakistani had been, too. But, if she didn’t escape soon, she’d be too weak to do so, or for it to matter if she somehow managed to gain her freedom.

And so it was that the Englishwoman released Syeda’s wrists and reached back with her hands. She found what she hoped to find, the Pakistani’s glossy black hair. She grabbed hold, digging her hands in deeply, and, as Syeda screamed, “Ahhhhh!” pulled with all she was worth.

The darker woman responded with another squeeze of her legs, and Mary gasped, but she did not release the hair, instead holding her rival’s head in place until her legs relaxed. Then, Mary slipped her right hand forward in Syeda’s locks and jammed the thumb into her eye. That did the trick.

Syeda yelled, “Owwwwww!” and released the nelson on the right side, her hand coming to her eye. With her right arm free, Mary pulled the limb forward as far as she could, and then slammed her elbow backward into Syeda’s right boob. “Aggghhhh!” screamed the Pakistani, and her body folded forward slightly, right into range of a second elbow, this one to the chin. With an “Uhhhhhhh!” Syeda fell backward to the floor, losing both the remaining portion of the full nelson and the body scissors as lights flashed before her eyes and things began to spin.

Mary rolled free of her rival and got slowly to her feet. One hand was on the English beauty’s stomach, and, when she made it off the floor, she just stood where she was for a second, trying to catch her breath. The bitch had really put her through it with that hold, but Mary decided she was going to make her pay, big time.

Syeda was still lying on her back moaning when Mary moved in. She felt a sickening pain in her left side, right about kidney level, but never saw the tennis shoe on Mary’s right foot dig in just below the ribs. Syeda gasped and rolled into a ball, repeating her earlier defensive posture in a similar situation. This time, though, Mary didn’t keep kicking away at the dark beauty’s body, nor did she fall on top of her for further grappling. Instead, she stepped back away from the Pakistani and said, “Get up, bitch!”

Syeda didn’t move. Her head was still too muzzy and she hurt too much. So, Mary stepped forward and stomped down hard on the right side of Syeda’s head, her heel catching the darker woman right in the ear. Syeda screamed “Oooooh!” and brought her hands up to cover her head.

“Get up, you bitch, or I’ll fucking kick you to death!” Mary screamed, moving around in front of Syeda and slamming a foot into her exposed belly. The Pakistani gurgled, her hands coming from her head to her midsection, and then began coughing.

Paul, watching, again thought it was over, but he was surprised to see the Pakistani begin to roll to her knees. One hand remained on her belly, and she was still blinking her right eye, and, as she wobbled unsteadily on her knees, he could tell the effects of the stomp in the head had yet to fade. But, despite it all, Syeda pushed her way to her feet.

As soon as her rival was standing, Mary moved in for the kill. She slammed her right elbow into the side of the darker woman’s face, and, as Syeda staggered beneath the blow, the Englishwoman grabbed the Pakistani beauty around the throat with both hands As her rival choked and tried to pull her hands free, Mary began shoving her backward.

Syeda stumbled in retreat until her back came up against the far wall of the room. As Syeda gagged and continued trying to pull Mary’s hands free, the Englishwoman brought up her right knee and buried it in Syeda’s aching belly. “Ullllgghhhhh!” gasped Syeda, as the knee rammed home, then, “Gllllhhhh!” as it ripped deep into her midsection again. The Pakistani’s body tried to instinctively fold over, but Mary held her upright with the chokehold. Then, Mary’s hands tightened and Syeda’s eyes widened in panic.

Panic is a dangerous thing. It’s a natural reaction, but a hurtful one. It causes a person to react in a blindly self-preserving manner, one that is often inimical to the person’s actual self-preservation. And so it was that Syeda fought down her natural panic as she felt Mary’s strong hands closing off her airway, squeezing her throat tightly. She also fought off the pain in her aching belly. And she forced her right leg to react precisely the way she needed it to. It came up from the floor abruptly, the knee sinking into Mary’s crotch, which Syeda’s wide eyes had noticed was wide open to just such a blow.

“OHHHHHHHHHH!” Mary wailed, as the knee rammed home. Her own knees wobbled as the pain tore through her body. Mary dropped to a kneeling position, her hands falling away from the Pakistani’s throat and going to her own violated groin.

Syeda staggered to her left, choking, both hands at her throat, unsteady on her feet from both the adrenaline rush caused by the choking and the accompanying lack of air. She, at least, was able to keep her feet. Mary was unable to even stay on her knees. With a whimper, she fell to her left side, tears of pain trickling from her tightly closed eyes, her teeth gritted in agony.

From where Paul was sitting, things couldn’t get much better. The fight had been everything he’d expected and more. Both women had given and taken a ton of abuse, and the battle was still fairly even. But, then, things improved even more. Syeda, sweating profusely and heaving for air, pulled her heavy sweatshirt over her head and tossed it aside, revealing a lacy black bra, the C-cups of which were overflowing with Syeda’s sweat-covered breasts.

A couple of minutes passed with neither woman doing much. Syeda leaned against the wall trying to catch her breath and Mary lay moaning on the floor trying to rub some of the agony away from her groin. It wasn’t until Mary got to her knees that Syeda, tiredly, forced herself off the wall and moved toward her opponent.

Mary had gotten part way to her feet when Syeda grabbed her sweatshirt and pulled it up over her head, trapping the Englishwoman’s arms and blinding her to boot. The move also revealed Mary’s flat, white belly, where Syeda aimed, and landed, her first punch. Mary gasped and tried to back up, but her body was tangled in the shirt and Syeda was still holding it with her left hand. The right, however, was in motion again, banging into Mary’s midsection with a loud smack that brought a louder scream from the Englishwoman. “Ooooooooh!” wailed Mary, as she twisted and turned her body trying to free herself from her shirt.

Paul watched as Syeda hung on to the shirt, pulled Mary forward a bit, then pulled back her right hand and smashed it forward and up, crashing it into the underside of Mary’s right breast. The force of the impact did three things. First, it knocked Mary’s upper body backward. That force, combined with Mary’s instinctive jerking backward away from the source of the blow pulled the shirt from Syeda’s hand, allowing Mary to stumble backward and fall to her rump, then her back. Oh, yes, and the punch hurt like hell, ripping an “OHHHHHHH!” from Mary’s lips.

Paul was struck by the tableau. The lovely Syeda, now in just her bra above the waist, stood over the fallen Mary as the latter lay groaning on the floor, her belly bare, her face and chest still covered by her rumpled sweat shirt. Syeda then showed a mean streak Paul had no idea she had. The Pakistani beauty stepped forward and smashed her foot between Mary’s legs. “Oh Godddddd!” Mary screamed, as the sneaker rammed home. The Englishwoman curled into a ball and lay gasping and moaning, hands now holding her pussy once again.

“Get up, or I’ll kick you to death, bitch!” Syeda screamed, stepping back away from the downed Englishwoman. Like Syeda before her, Mary found the strength to move, albeit slowly. She got to her hands and knees, and then reached up with her left hand to pull the sweatshirt free. It fell to the floor, still looped around her right wrist, revealing a light green bra and the tops of her firm, white, C-cup breasts.

Syeda took another step back as Mary began to rise. The Englishwoman tossed the sweatshirt aside before growling, “You fucking bitch…” and moving forward. Mary’s legs wobbled as pain tore through her groin with each step, then pain exploded on the right side of her head and in her left breast. The aching Englishwoman had walked right into a two-punch combination that made her head spin and her tit feel like it had been hit with a hammer. “Ahhh…oooohhhhggggg!” Mary screamed, and she appeared about to go down. Somehow, though, she remained on her feet, swaying.

“Come ON, Mary,” Syeda said, motioning her rival forward. “I thought we were going to settle this…or have you had enough?”

“Fuck you…” Mary said, stepping toward Syeda unsteadily again. Then she stopped dead as a right uppercut tore into the left cup of her bra with a thud that Paul heard clearly from the other room. He couldn’t have missed Mary’s wail of “Ohhhh-hohhhhh!” if he’d been in another county.

Mary began to fold forward but a left smacked under her chin to straighten her up and another right knocked her backward and to her right side as it slammed into the left side of her left tit hard enough to knock the breast from her bra.

Paul watched stunned as Mary screamed “Uhhh…OHHHHHH!” and fell into a heap on the floor. She lay there, crying softly from the pain, as Syeda stepped toward her once again.

“Are you finished, you bitch, or do you want some more?”

“Fuck you!” Mary said through her tears.

“Then get up and fight!” Syeda shot back.

Mary made it as far as her knees. Syeda grabbed her by the hair and ripped her right knee upward into her rival’s bare left breast three times. Mary’s pathetic wails got louder and more desperate each time. Finally, Syeda released her hair. The Englishwoman slumped forward, held on to Syeda’s legs for a second, and then fell to her face, sobbing loudly, both hands now on her battered boob.

“Finished yet, Mary?” Syeda yelled. Mary said nothing, just rolled into a ball, crying. Syeda kicked her in the belly and Mary whimpered. “Say it, bitch!” Syeda screamed. “Say you give up!”

“Fucking bitch,” Mary sobbed. Syeda grabbed her rival by the hair as Mary moaned, and then the Pakistani woman stopped and turned when she heard a door open behind her.

“That’s enough,” Paul said. “She can’t fight anymore Syeda. Leave her alone.”

Syeda stood stunned for a moment, not quite understanding what was going on. Then, it all clicked into place and her eyes began to smoke. “You bastard!” Syeda screamed. “You’ve been here the whole time? You helped her set this up and then watched? Sorry I spoiled your fun, you asshole!” Syeda then remembered she was half naked from the waist up and grabbed her shirt to hold it in front of her. She pointed Paul back to where he came from, and he understood what she meant to do. As Mary lay crying on the floor, Syeda, given the privacy she wanted, pulled her shirt back on and gathered her books and coat, then took one last look at Mary. “You’re pathetic, you bitch, you know that? Fucking pathetic. You went to all this trouble just to get your ass whipped.” And, with that she stormed out the door.

Paul rushed back through the door after Syeda left and hurried over to Mary. She’d gotten her aching left breast back into its bra cup despite the pain, but the tears were still flowing and she was, of course, still half-naked above the waist. When she saw Paul coming, she said, “Get the fuck out of here and leave me alone!” Paul just shrugged and went out the door. Mary sat on the floor, still crying, both in pain and humiliation now. “Rotten fucking bitch,” she said through her tears, shaking her head. “I hate that slut.”

The End

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