Walk in the Park by Mr. Cage

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The gathering was loud and seemingly happy, a roomful of twenty-somethings and thirty-somethings not yet shackled to adulthood or free as a teenager. The Mac-mansion existed inside gated protection, one of the new rich, licentious paradises typical of an American secondary city; home to a state university, a modern technology complex and hanger-on service providers. Some guests were out of college working as waiters, interns or first job dog-bodies. Some were in graduate school spending other peoples’ money. Others had taken a step up the career ladder and had real jobs paying taxes that created other peoples’ money.

The city had a large second and third generation Asian immigrant population now totally Americanized and angry about it or not. Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis as well as a dozen or so other variants were used to being mistaken by whites and blacks as being all the same. And given the nature of this party most of their differences never showed. Everyone purposefully mixed showing a picture perfect mosaic suitable for a clothing ad, including all the colors of the rainbow those who had to check their privilege and the others who were ready to point out who had guilt and who had the highly desired modern victim status.

It was a typical, loud, drug and liquor fueled, sexually driven modern fun time. Dates were made, sometimes people left together for a first night hook-up and for those who stayed the latest some kind of orgy. The homeowner was a thirty something stock issue billionaire and ungainly nerd happy to take advantage of an orgy. The guys were appropriately non-aggressive and the women strutted themselves openly competing for the attention that the men had been taught to suppress. Only the gods could tell whether the instinctive power of sexuality or the learned social skill of hypocrisy dominated the party’s ethereal aura.

Sharan, a tall super fit, former college soccer star and now a thirty year-old, long-nailed, curvy real estate saleswoman enjoyed the attentions of John, a blonde lawyer, who was determined to fuck someone not white that night. Sharan, a beautiful Sikh, fit the bill perfectly wearing a dark blue wraparound something that looked Asian with her hair styled long, and traditional but colored slightly brunette rather than ebony black. Her eyes seemed green, but he could not tell if it was contacts or natural and really could care less.

John was staring at her full brown breasts peeking out of the blue dress. She had just laughingly dropped a bomb that her one year old was home with her parents and she was carrying a full load of milk in her tits. Whoever sucked them would get a surprise. A couple of other women rolled their eyes and turned away from the blatant flirtation. A couple of guys’ heads rotated to the boobs. Men may have learned to act metrosexual, but were still creatures of the animal kingdom.

Another female voice chimed in, “I’m sure there are several surprises awaiting a man that touches you.”

Everyone turned to the coldly smiling speaker. Her words could be read harshly or jokingly. She looked very much like Sharan, but browner with a sharper larger nose and a squarer face. She too was tall and looking fit, perhaps thinner. She was dressed in a bare midriff pink half shirt, which could have doubled as sports bra for the modest. She completed her outfit with black short-shorts and high heels. Her belly was flat with the hint of a six pack under the female curves. And there was just the hint of stretch marks around her exposed navel.

Sharan mumbled, “Oh, Taj, you’ve had your nose fixed?”

The other girl’s smile threatened to evaporate, but she managed a nod. “Yes, eight years ago now. Moved back into town last year to be closer to my family.”

“I thought you ran away to New York to be with Rama. He was going to be a photographer and you a fitness model?”

Taj nodded and padded her bare belly. “Fit enough I hope. I’ve had two babies, one less than twelve months ago, and I’m a personal trainer now as well as a coach at our old high school. If you want to take some of that baby fat off, give me a call.”

John blinked feeling he must be missing something, but the ecstasy and martinis were kicking in. He nodded happily as Sharan whispered to Taj. Taj whispered something back, they smiled and parted. Moments later as John was drifting in and out of reality looking at Sharan’s almost black aureole rubbing along the edge of her wrap around dress, she gave him a kiss and excused herself, promising to return. He held onto Sharan’s forearm and asked. “Who is Taj?”

“Sikh like me. Our grandparents came from same village in Indian. We knew each other when we were younger. We were not friends, so forget about a threesome.”

John tried to look innocent. “Why not friends?”

“She’s a competitive bitch. We had a few confrontations. I broke her nose the last time. Now I’ve got to visit the restroom.”

He watched her walk toward the back of the house where a restroom was. Her space on the couch was occupied by a black chick with her tits hanging out and sweaty from dancing. The girl was drunk and high and looking for cock. He switched his gimlet eyes from Sharan to Alisha.

As Sharan left by the back door walking around the big house on a stone walkway, Taj left by the front door going down the long drive to the street. Lights led to the exclusive neighborhood’s private park but of course it was officially closed after nine. She ignored the sign and walked on a wide walkway heels clicking past the kiddie park, past the dog walking path, past the bike path and finally stopping to sit down on a bench at the beginning of the runners’ path. Five minutes later Sharan clicked up on her heels checking behind her.

“So you did not learn your lesson last time?” Sharan snorted.

“I learned you’re a cheating cunt! But that was your fame wasn’t it, the cock sucking backstabbing whore from what the sixth grade on. You really were a vile slut, trying to look presentable now in that cultural mockery.” Taj spit.

Sharan unbuttoned three buttons holding the wraparound in place and it peeled off her to hang open on the one shoulder it covered. She slipped it off her arm and folded it, tossing it on the back of the bench behind her. She stood in blue half bra and black panty hose, no panties, standing in blue high heels. It was not a hot night, and a breeze made her nipples harden under the absorbent pads she used to stop nipple leakage.

Taj stood to the challenge and pulled off her top revealing full brown breasts harnessed by a sheer pink bra. Both nipples poked upward trying to push through the bra and the pink colored pads that were slightly tinted by milky discharge. She had already removed her jewelry and waited as Sharan removed her own. She peeled off her short shorts revealing a golden thong. They had no need to negotiate such things. Several fights stretching from childhood to college made such discussions moot.

They glared at each other for a few moments. Then Taj slowly peeled back her nipple pads, rubbed the nipples then pinched them lightly showing a milky discharge before pushing them back inside the now wet bra cup. Sharan snorted at the challenge and exposed her larger, darker nipples and did the same, leaving a growing stain on her blue bra.

Sharan looked around and said, “We should move a little way up the path. They have it partially lighted so we can see. Out here someone might stagger out here to fuck in the night.”

They gathered up their things and started walking. A few steps in they took off their heels. Taj barefoot, Sharan in stockings, they walked on the worn path until it widened about fifty feet into the winding path. Again two benches faced each other across the widened area lit by a single pole light overhead. They dropped their things on opposing benches and turned. Both breathing heavily now, nostrils flaring and sweat prickling on their warming brown skin. Excitement had warmed them.

Sharan snarled, “You ugly cunt!”

Taj snapped back, “Dirty cock sucker!”

They lunged at each other, left hands open going for hair and right hands twisted into inexpert fists. Taj’s left hand closed on the hair on the front of Sharan’s head. The longer haired woman’s long black braid flopped and already threatened to dissolve. Sharan’s long nails scrapped Taj’s scalp as they dug for a grip, finding it in Taj’s shorter, bushier hair style. As they fastened hold, both their fists hit the side of the others’ face with a slapping thud. Both cursed and swung again. They hit each other four times before the hair jerking turned their punches into windmills.

Taj’s bare foot clipped Sharan’s ankle and she staggered to the side. Taj’s hand came free with some tuffs of hair, blacker at the roots than the tips. Sharan staggered, cried out and jerked harder at the wad of hair she still had. Taj twisted sideways and stumbled in a circle her bare feet trying to purchase a firm platform. She fell in a tangle roll. The fall freed her hair leaving Sharan with a wad of tangled black hair in her fist as well as some flesh under her nails.

Sharan raced forward and got in a single kick to Taj’s hard midriff as Taj tried to push up. The kick put her on her knees. Sharan grabbed for the woman’s tangled hair, but Taj’s hard fist slammed into her belly just above her panty hose waistband. Sharan grunted but did not fall. Instead she twisted Taj’s head to the side and tried to drag her off her knees. Taj cried out as she went onto her side dragged by her hair across the grass and out onto the dirt path. She reached backwards and grabbed the wrists of the arms dragging her.

Taj did not have the long nails that Sharan did, but her nails did bite into Sharan’s wrists. Sharan slammed a couple of kicks into Taj’s bare back. She yanked harder and pulled Taj’s round ass through the dirt. The pain in her scalp got worse and she gasped once or twice. Sharan taunted her with another kick to the kidneys. Taj let go of Sharan’s wrists and rolled onto her right hip grabbing for Sharan’s long stocking covered leg. The taller Sikh beauty cursed and jerked harder on the captive hair, ripping out two wads and losing her balance. She slammed hard on her ass in the dirt, one ankle in Taj’s hand.

Taj jerked on the ankle and scrambled on top the trap leg, her golden thong covered mound rubbing on the upper thigh. By that time Sharan’s other foot, sheer stocking already dirty and slightly shredded, was pushing on Taj’s hip. Taj twisted sideways falling forward. Sharan grunted as her enemy landed body on body, but reflexively hooked her kicking left leg over Taj’s ass to keep her from getting a full mount. Taj’s hands were scrambling at Sharan’s wet bra cups exposing both swollen brown milk bags to the night. Sharan’s hands had found Taj’s wild hair again and twisted her head trying to roll her off.

The grunted and cursed trying to fight for position. Sharan had Taj twisted half off her torso when the fitness instructor grabbed the exposed boobs, gouging deep and twisting ruthlessly. This was not their first dirty fight so the pain in her tender breasts did not shock Sharan. She cursed savagely and hooked a thumbnail into the side of Taj’s face still twisting the head by the hair. Taj cried out as her the real estate agent scratched an inch long mark and finished with an actual bloody cut at the hairline above the ear. Taj had been face bloodied before, but as a woman the thought of having her face scarred terrified her. Taj rolled off and away, grabbing for her face and checking the smeared blood on the palm of her hand.

Sharan scrambled to her feet gasping, leaking from both nipples, her blue bra tangled around her neck. She jerked it over her head and threw it behind her. Her heavy round breasts rolled back and forth on her chest as she sucked in deep breaths of the night air. Taj was still rubbing her face after she stood about six feet away, covered in sweat and dirt more than the tiny trickle of blood she kept smearing on her hands. The sight of her own blood infuriated her. Both women knew the fight had gone to a new level from rivalry to hatred.

Sharan snorted, “Come on bitch, I’ll peel your ugly face off!”

Taj screamed and charged swinging. Neither were experienced fight tacticians, or Taj’s fury might have been her undoing. Instead of flipping the on rushing cow, she charged back swinging just as wildly. They hit each other’s arms and shoulders before crashing together. Hands went immediately to the hair as they kicked and butted bellies and boobs together in the night. Their feet kicked up some dirt until Taj’s determination forced them back to the grass.

After a few minutes of sweaty hair-pulling and body wrestling, Sharan let go of Taj’s knotted hair with her right hand and dug her long polished nails down Taj’s back from shoulder to bra strap. Hooked under the bra strap, Sharan used the leverage to control Taj, holding her steady for a hard stocking knee to the inner thighs just stopped short of the golden pouch. Taj stumbled as she tried to twist her hips to the side to forestall another knee. Sharan hooked her right leg behind Taj’s left ankle schoolyard style and using the bra tried to trip the hard body mama onto the ground.

Taj fell as she was not prepared, but her hands were deep in Sharan’s longer hair. Taj tried to throw the taller girl to the side as she herself fell in the opposite direction. Both succeeded. Taj fell hard on her side as her bra ripped from her body falling the arch of Sharan’s face first landing in the dirt behind her. Both women grunted from the impact, but the fear of being kicked while down got them scrambling wildly to their feet in opposite directions. This time the turned to face each other almost ten feet apart, gasping with minor scrapes and bruises beginning to cover their sweaty dirt streaked bodies. With the exception of the shredded stockings, golden thong, and polished nails they could have been cave women from forgotten times.

In between deep breaths they circled each other cursing. The dirt from the trail was staining Taj’s ankles and feet. Sharan’s stockings were shredded now at both knees and on her feet and her toes were sticking through the sheer black, now dirty brown, stockings. As they circled and recovered their breath they got closer and closer. Their eyes were locked as they sought to wound each other with words, getting physically closer with each angry verbal lashing.

Finally Taj snatched out for Sharan’s now unbraided tangled long hair grabbing a handful on the right temple with her left hand. Sharan punched hard straight with her right fist smashing Taj’s lips against her white teeth, but Taj’s own right was swinging hard slamming into Sharan’s trapped head, crushing her left cheek below the eye. Sharan staggered, hurt, and her left hand grabbed for Taj’s hair and missed, clawing her face and then fastening around the top of Taj’s right breast.

Taj’s globe quickly transformed into a tube of squashed brown flesh as Sharan staggered and used the tit to steady herself. Taj moaned as the full sacks and swollen tubules were squashed and pressured from the top, almost a perfect farm hand technique. Sharan got her footing as Taj clawed her arm trying to free the agonized breast. Sharan suddenly realized what her hand had and brutally dug her long-nailed fingers in deep, twisting and pulling at the same time. Taj squealed as her swollen almost black nipple responded differently to the gentle sucking of her child and the terrible explosive pressure of her milk filled flesh being crushed. A heavy stream that would have made any cow proud burst from her tortured right nipple opening ducts fully. The hot milk splattered on Sharan’s thigh as the other woman moved her left leg forward bracing for a right fist to her enemy’s face.

Taj cursed as the hard fist smashed her nose, blood spurting from one nostril and dribbling from the other. She would have fallen backwards but she was being brutally milked. Taj fell to her knees in the dirt in agony from both the nose and the tit. Sharan slammed her right knee into Taj’s swollen left tit, adding to her pain. The downed athletic girl attacked the revealed curves of the panty hose covered crotch swinging back in forth in front of her tearing eyes.

Her left hand grabbed the waist band to steady Sharan’s hips. Sharan’s right knee crushed Taj’s left tit again, but her hand held onto the waist band. Taj’s right hand slammed upward crushing the fat lips. Sharan had waxed her crotch. The standing woman groaned and bent over still pulling up on the tit which was dribbling now. Taj’s right hand opened and she thrust her fingers against the tissue thin hose as her tormenter tried to cover herself with her right hand. Sharan was still trying to stay standing as Taj’s fingers ripped through the stocking and penetrated her cunt in a savage gouging. Sharan squealed and instead of falling jumped backwards popping Taj’s wet fingers out of her slit and letting go of Taj’s rapidly swelling boob.

But the jump did not free the taller girl. Taj’s left hand pulled the waist band of the shredded stocking downward. When Sharan hit the dirt her ass was uncovered and her panty hose were tangled and stretched around her knees. Dangerously situation the real estate broker’s hands dug in the dirt and she pushed backwards while frantically kicking her feet. Her feet kicked Taj in the jaw and tits knocking the girl backwards and stripping the ruined stockings clean off. Sharan desperately rubbed her nude slit checking for blood. Taj rolled over holding her tit with one hand and pushing up on her knees with the other. She cradled her damaged tit and looked at the still weeping nipple.

Taj snarled, “I’ll rip your tits off for that you cunt!”

“You are such a cow bitch, I just milked you good. I’ll empty your bags tonight!” snarled Sharan as she scrambled backwards getting up on her now bare feet, nude to the night air blowing on her sweat sheened skin.

This time they came together with their hands open ready to grab. Their eyes seemed to negotiate. Then they nodded and came together in a standing mutual tit grab. Immediately their heads went back as they moaned into the night sky. Strong brown fingers disappeared deeply into the swollen sweaty mounds. Both had been milked already, but now they went at it with furious purpose. Tits were crushed and twisted, squashed flat against the chest and jerked straight out. Both screamed in mutual agony as strong streams of milk blew out of their ducts and sprayed the other woman’s belly. The jerking and milking caused them to stagger and go down to their knees.

Leaning together at the shoulders the brutally savaged each other’s mammary glands. Warm fluid spurted then dribbled then changed from clear milky to milky to pink milky and still they milked each other past dry to bruised, damaged and bloody. Cries to god did not stop the agony or separate them. The dirt turned to milky mud between them and they hurt each other beyond anything they had done before.

Sharan’s longer nails gave her an advantage when the milking changed to clawing. She ripped the swollen brown tits and tried to saw off the black wet nipples with her nails. When she felt Sharan open both nipples with her nails, Taj howled, leaned back and drove her forehead into Sharan’s surprised face. Both girls fell backwards. Sharan’s right eyebrow was busted open and Taj’s forehead had a knot on it the size of a golf ball. They lay on their backs gasping as both gingerly cupped their breasts and tried to stop the fire inside them.

If anyone had been there the fight would have been stopped. If either had been knocked out the fight might have stopped or ended in the death of the helpless one. But both women were conscious, in agony, and furious for revenge. Reason had left the building by the back door and rage ruled the frontal lobes. They eyed each other as they moaned and sucked in air trying to ease the fire in their muscles and lungs.

Sharan let the blood run down the side of her face thankful only sweat was stinging her eyes. Taj pressed up to her hands and knees forcing Sharan to move before she wanted. They grunted as they stood and reflexively held their wounded breasts with their hands to keep the damaged orbs from swinging freely. None of their previous fights had gone to this level. Fear should have stopped them, but rage compelled them.

Taj cursed and lunged forward her left hand reaching for dirty tangled hair and her right fist swinging wildly. She did not get close. Sharan planted her left foot and delivered what might have been a front kick with training, but was in fact a standing stomp to the lower belly. Her toes and sole sank into the belly flesh while her dirty heel thudded on the round mound, crushing the tender fleshy parts hard against the bone.

Taj moaned low and staggered backwards both hands on her belly, her swollen tits dangling and swinging painfully. She was dizzy and her knees were threatening to give way. Reflexively she looked for danger, but Sharan was on her ass in the dirt, her legs waving in the air. By the time she rolled over and stood, Taj was merely in agony.

Sharan took a cautious step forward her fists up, left arm across her breasts. Taj staggered backwards forcing her hands off her throbbing womb and up defensively. Sharan was as surprised as Taj when her right jab connected with Taj’s already swollen lips and snapped her head back. Sharan tried a bit of fist fighting after that with a left to the head that missed and almost sent her staggering.

Taj’s right fired upward and hit Sharan’s jaw standing her up straight and causing her to stagger back. Taj’s left reach and captured Sharan’s terribly swollen right breast and jerked the real estate agent closer into a brutal right to the nose. Sharan squealed and instead of falling backwards fell in the direction of the breast pull and ending up face against Taj’s sweaty belly and hands around her enemies knees. Taj ripped hair and tried to crash a fist into Sharan’s bloody eyebrow, but her right fist bounced off Sharan’s head.

Taj cried out as her she hurt her own fist. She screamed as Sharan pulled her legs out from under her. Hitting the dirt hard on her back she pressed down on Sharan’s head, but the other Sikh girl was not climbing on. She bit into the sweaty belly that her face slid along. Teeth capturing a mouthful right above Taj’s trimmed triangle bush. Taj screamed again. If anyone had been in the park and the music blaring from the parties on either side of the park had been lessoned, they would have been discovered. An hour latter dog walkers would have easily heard them, but now they screamed in the woods and no one was there to hear answering an age old question.

Taj squirmed and twisted, ripping out wads of tangled black dyed-brunette hair. Getting wild and driving her heels into Sharan’s ass and lower back Taj ended up with her legs spread. Sharan cried out as wads of her long hair were ripped free but she continued to bite at what flesh she could find. She moved her mouth downward, terrifying Taj.

Taj closed her legs behind Sharan’s back, locking her ankles and crushing her fitness instructor thighs around Sharan. The angle of contact went from just under the arms down the rib cage. It was not an idea scissors hold but it did compress Sharan’s ribs so suddenly that the girl gasped, losing her lung capacity and releasing her bite. Sharan reflexively tried to push away from the constriction and Taj naturally rolled onto her side trying to get a classic angle on the other girl’s ribs.

The problem with wrestling submission moves in a cat fight is they take too long and expose the wrestler to counterattacks that never happen in submission matches. Fighting for oxygen, unable to bite now that Taj had two wads of Sharan’s ruined hair in her fist, the real estate agent had moments before greying out from panic and constricted rib cage.

Instead she used her totally free hands. Her right hand, which was someone constrained by her lying on her right side, reached for Taj’s bitten belly and then lower seeking her pussy. Taj gasped as fingers passed the triangle of bush she had directing her nude pussy and grabbed for the hand releasing on side of Sharan’s hair. But the real danger came from behind. Sharan’s left arm hooked around Taj’s quivering hips, her forearm hugged Taj’s super firm buttock and her long nailed fingers entered Taj’s tender regions from behind. Taj moaned a piteous “NO” as Sharan’s index finger jammed into her anus with bad intent.

Taj’s legs popped open. Sharan gasped in a lungful of air. Taj rolled over on top and sat on Sharan’s chest. Sharan hands came out of her crotch for the moment, but within seconds the left hand was clawing and pushing on her ass and the right hand was digging at the bloody bites on the fitness instructor’ belly. Taj tried to crawl off, but Sharan hugged her with the left and literally lifted her mouth to Taj’s wet crotch. There was not that much loose flesh to bite, but Sharan found the fleshy upper lips with her mouth and bit.

Taj howled and rolled onto her ass sitting up with Sharan’s mouth locked to her crotch. Squealing in fear from the biting even before the pain hit her, Taj used her left hand to pull the back of Sharan’s hair. She thrust her damaged right hand into Sharan’s face clawing wildly. Luckily only her knuckle was injured not broken and her fingers could still gouge despite the pain. After a bloody minute’s of blindly gouging Sharan’s forehead and face, Taj’s forefinger found an eye socket. In a second she was free and rolling to the side.

Taj sat up crying rubbing at the set of oval wounds on her lower belly and checked that her pussy. It was bloody, but everything seemed to be still attached. She sobbed now, not believing the kind of fight this had become. Perhaps she should have remembered that in a no rules fight it is the meanest, dirtiest and first to violate the norms of human conduct that often won. She was still rubbing her crotch as Sharan scrambled to her knees, her right eye closed and pouring out water.

Sharan crawled forward on two knees and her right hand. She got to the side of Taj, before Taj reacted. Sharan reached out with her long left and grabbed Taj’s ragged black hair and jerked her backwards and to the side. On her back Taj reached for the hand in her hair with one hand and a rolling bloated bloody breast with the other. Sharan whimpered as her damaged breast was twisted and pulled, but brought her free hand down like a hammer on Taj’s forehead, missing the nose she wanted to break, but hitting the huge hot knot covering half of Taj’s forehead.

The knot split. Blood splashed out like water in a pond struck by large rock. Taj moaned and swooned, her body suddenly pouring a flood of blood and lymph toward the gaping rupture. Sharan paused too. The blood splash did something to Sharan’s crotch. She felt it perversely get wet and swell warming to the promise of a hard cock when fucking was the last item on the agenda for that slit this night.

Sharan swung a leg over Taj and started to climb on top. Taj’s paralysis ended as she saw the flesh above her throbbing breasts. Taj jammed her right hand into Sharan’s crotch, clawing and gouging. Sharan screamed and grabbed for the hand. She leaned back trying to climb off. Taj’s right heel snagged Sharan’s shoulder and pulled her off backwards. Sharan started to roll but not before Taj sat up between her legs and hammered the already bleeding slit with a fist.

The rolled in different directions until they pressed up on their hands and knees, both crying and cursing. Taj’s head was pouring blood and she was woozy. She crawled toward Sharan, but Sharan had already reached the bench and pulled up to her feet. Taj tried to do the same but was too slow. Sharan’s dirty right foot crushed Taj’s swollen, bloody tipped left breast flat and blasted her back into the dirt on her ass.

Taj pushed up on her elbows in time to take a stomp to her bloody belly. She gasped and curled up around the foot, grabbing the calf and holding on. Sharan tried to pull her leg away, but Taj held on and twisted to kick the other leg out from under her taller opponent. Taj used the trapped leg as a grip to get at Sharan’s cunt. She wanted to unsex the woman. Her hands found the fattened blood wet nude lips just as Sharan’s free foot kicked wildly taking Taj in her face. The blow knocked Taj sideways across the trapped right leg.

Taj, eyes blackening and swelling from a blow to the bridge of her nose, bit the flesh of the thigh and reached again for the hated cunt that had become the focus of her ire. Sharan sat up thinking she had a moment, then the pain in her thigh informed her of the mistake. A moment later, dirty fingers penetrating her sex with brutal intent caused her to stiffen. Her head pitched back and her mouth issued a wild animal scream up into the top of the trees.

With the initial shock over, she pulled at the raping hand and dragged the already bloody fingertips out of her swollen sex. Mad with rage she jerked the hand upward and tried to bite off Taj’s bloody index finger. Taj released her bite as pain drove her to scream and jerk at her hand.

Their eyes locked for a moment as Taj skinned her finger slowly dragging it out. Her other hand reached up to strike at the face of the thing biting her. Sharan’s hands were free and she grabbed the other hand with one of her hands and dropped the other claw to Taj’s upturned face. Sharan ripped furrows in the other girls face, gouging at the split forehead brutally widening the wound and turning her enemies face bright red. Finally Taj’s finger came free and she rolled away seeking sanctuary.

Sharan crawled after the slow rolling girl, capturing her hair with one hand and stopping the roll with a jerk. Taj instinctively rolled onto her stomach. Sharan managed to mount the fitness instructor’s back. Taj realized her mistake too late. She tried to press up and roll, but Sharan was an experience schoolyard fighter and she grabbed to handfuls of hair and pressed Taj’s face down in the dirt. She held the girl until the pushing and twisting slowed.

Then Sharan pull back savagely on the hair almost snapping Taj’s neck as her head came up. A martial artist one have snapped the neck, but Sharan was a bitch fighter. She slammed Taj’s face down in the dirt again and again. Taj blocked the ground with her forearm, frustrating Sharan. The girl on top pulled back again and rolled, dragging the fitness instructor off the ground, her dirt and blood caked face barely recognizable. Taj squirmed and kicked, but could not avoid coming to a seat facing away from Sharan. Sharan’s long legs bit into Taj’s waist from behind, while Sharan’s arms slid under Taj’s armpits and up clasping behind her head, fists grabbing hair for a classic full nelson. Taj struggled gasping, but then those long, long legs crossed at the ankles from behind. Taj moaned as her waist was crushed and her internal organs rearranged.

They stayed locked that way. Taj’s attempts at a backwards head butt failed again and again. Sharan added bites to the shoulders adding to Taj’s pain. Soon the scissors and pain made her breaths short and labored exactly when she need to suck in huge quantities of oxygen. The blood loss became a factor and Taj’s vision constricted. She whimpered and moaned, “I give up.”

Sharan kept working the scissors and the full nelson for a few minutes. Sharan finally noticed the limp body and rolled it to the side. She picked up Taj’s head by the tangled mass of black hair. Taj’s eyes were caked by blood and mud. She shook Taj and got no response.

Sharan sat beside Taj’s limp body and slowly breathed in the night air letting her sanity return one breath at a time. Finally she checked to see if Taj was still breathing. She was. Between the blood and caked dirt she could not recognize the ruined face. She brushed caked blood mud from the woman’s nose and mouth. Then gave up on reviving her.

Scared sane, Sharan sat down on the bench, demurely crossing her legs as if she had on clothes. She sat for a few moments, then found her phone and called the owner of her business. This woman had experience with fights. She knew doctors and quiet ways of making things go away, or so it was rumored. She had once tried to get Sharan fight a competitor’s agent for a big listing.

Sharan feared that even if Taj lived that after this she would no longer be able to refuse such a request.

They say time heals all wounds. They lie.

The End.

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