About the Author
Written by the Sprite: RR was a catfight story writer who frequented catfight forums of yore nearly two decades ago. He was a gifted writer who often set his stories in fantastical settings. The tales tended to be fatal catfights. This short collection of his work is among the best catfight literature around. The stories are fantasy, sci-fi and horror as well as being catfights. I hope you all enjoy his work as much as I did.
Two pairs of hands eagerly reached out to inflict anguish, only to be blocked and slapped aside. Suddenly Stella threw back her head and shrieked in agony as Sandra’s right hand caught
Tina reared back and screamed, abandoning her bite and forgetting her foe. Her mind completely focused on the shard of glass protruding from her left eye. Penelope seeing her chance shoved with everything she had, propelling Tina across the room. Tina struck the far wall with a bone-jarring impact and then slid down to the floor in a crumpled heap. Penelope crawled slowly and painfully from what remained of my coffee table. It took a couple of tries, but Penelope gained her feet. Swaying, almost out on her feet, Penelope reached behind her and slowly pulled a long,
Spurred by the pain, Copper made a mighty effort to escape the pin, clawing, scratching, and hitting, only to windup having Raven firmly on top, pinning her chest and left arm. Copper turned her head to bite Raven’s thigh. Raven having none of that caught Copper by the throat and started to pound her head on the sand. Then, getting a better grip on her enemy’s throat, Raven started to squeeze.
Copper started to become frantic. She reached up and latched her free right hand onto Raven’s tender breast and squeezed. Raven stiffened in pain, but ignored it and redoubled her effort to strangle the life from her foe. Copper panicked. She squirmed and twisted, right arm flailing as she sought to escape. Then to my admiration, she suddenly punched her foe in the side once, twice. Copper was losing, but she is going down fighting. I’d hoped that I would still fight as hard when my doom came.
There on the floor they rolled, their skirts riding high as each tried to gain the upper hand. First Gretchen would be on top raining blows onto Helga’s once pretty face. Then Helga would manage to get on top, clawing at Gretchen’s face with cruel fingernails. Back and forth they battled pretty evenly until Helga latched onto Gretchen’s throat and started squeezing. Gretchen gave a small cough and suddenly found herself unable to breathe. Helga, who had her by the throat, was shaking her like a terrier shakes a rat. Gretchen knew by Helga’s expression that if she didn’t get out of this Helga would strangle her to death.