Catfight

Many thanks to Jenna for all her hard work in editing and improving this story from a previous version.

I hate myself, thought Francie as she looked in the mirror. I'm just a big tub of lard. Any cute guy who sees me is going to run in the opposite direction as fast as he can. If I had an ounce of self-respect, I wouldn't let myself go like this.

She was drying herself after stepping out of the shower and feeling depressed. After Josiah had dumped her, she went into a deep funk and began eating to forget. But even with the 15 pounds she had gained, she still looked attractive. When she told her friends, they didn't believe she had any extra weight on her 6-foot-2 frame. They pointed out that some of the extra weight had gone to her breasts, which had already been her most prominent feature, the one that drew men like a magnet.

I hate these breasts, she thought. My friends tease me about them because they're jealous, and the boys zero in on them and never look me in the eyes. That's all they want from me. Once they've played with them, they dump me for a girl who's not such a freak. Now they're so huge they're going to start sagging.

The reason she was most upset was that whenever anyone -- boy or girl -- looked at her, she thought they were thinking about how that bitch Gigi had stolen Josiah from her.

Gigi was a sorority sister at Pi Kappa Upsilon, where Francie was going for dinner tonight, as she did every Monday. She had lived in the house a couple of years until she moved to her tiny off-campus apartment, but most of her best friends at school were sisters, and they all saw each other Monday nights at the dinner and meeting, even if their schedules sometimes kept them from getting together the rest of the week.

The sisters, even her closest friends, were split about what Gigi had done. Some of them felt that a sister should never poach on a sister. But others felt that all was fair in love and war, and that part of college was finding the right man in a jungle of jerks and there should be no restrictions on the huntresses. But even those who believed in survival of the fittest sympathized with her, because Gigi didn't seem to be searching for Mr. Right.

She was more like Genghis Kahn, destroying everything in her way as she went through one desirable boy after another. And if she could steal the guy from a girl who was beautiful or popular, Gigi treated it like a victory for the basketball team.

Gigi was the spoiled daughter of a wealthy family. She was attending school on an athletic scholarship because she was the star guard on the girls' basketball team. She was 5-2 and 105 pounds, and every pound was firm. She was strong but didn't look muscular, and though her breasts were softballs compared to Francie's watermelons, her great legs and round butt were enough to get boys' attention, especially since she always wore skintight pants or shorts and moved her assets while she was walking in a way that would make a stripper envious. The only thing out of proportion on her body was her hands, which were oversized and one of the reasons she could dribble and pass so well.

It was only four weeks after Josiah had broken up with Francie, and Gigi had already discarded him. Francie thought about calling him, but she decided even she wouldn't sink that low. Besides, she couldn't think of any reason why she wanted him back. She had really liked him once, but now he had just become an object that Gigi had used to humiliate her.

She would be seeing Gigi tonight, but at least it wouldn't be like the previous few Mondays, when Gigi found ways to rub Francie's nose into her humiliation. Gigi knew how to talk trash on the court and off. She wasn't as blatant about it in private life, but she found just the right words to torment those she was toying with, and she had brought Francie to tears each week. Tonight, Francie hoped Gigi would finally leave her alone, because the Josiah episode was over. Maybe she would steal someone else's boyfriend.

Francie scolded herself for thinking that. That wasn't a nice thing to hope for, she thought. What if the next victim was one of her girlfriends? If only Gigi understood how everyone was afraid of her -- even her entourage -- and how probably none of them would be friends with her after college!

But maybe that's what Gigi liked. She certainly enjoyed striking fear into her basketball opponents. Because she was so small, they always underestimated her. Then they found that she was not only athletic and elusive, but she also played dirty. When they got too close, she would find ways of reaching into their uniforms and grabbing, pinching, twisting and pulling. It caused them to lose concentration, and Gigi used that to score or pass to a teammate in scoring position or to steal the ball.

If an opponent fought back, Gigi usually went flying, and when she flopped, there were usually gasps because she knew how to make it look like she was hurt. When she got to the free-throw line, she was automatic, so the coach of the opposing players told them they had to endure Gigi's torments and play through them or they might as well give up and go home.

"You filthy mouthed whore!" screamed Gigi. Francie was screaming, too, because Gigi had come up behind her and grabbed her by her ponytail and pulled her to her feet. "What have you been saying about me?"

Francie had been sitting in the living room talking to friends when Gigi attacked out of nowhere. She had not been at the dinner, and Francie was hoping she wouldn't see her tonight.

"Answer me, whore!" yelled Gigi as she was being pulled away by some of the sisters.

"What are you talking about?" yelled Francie back at her.

"You're going around telling guys that I'm a lesbian," she said.

"No, I'm not," said Francie. "Who told you that?"

"Two guys this week, you lying slime."

"They told you I said that?"

"No, they didn't have to. I knew you were getting back at me for Josiah. You can have him. He can't eat pussy worth crap. But you're going to pay for your mouth."

"You know, Gigi, I wish I HAD thought of telling guys that because I see how it humiliates you. Now you know how it feels. I can't claim credit, but I'm willing to bet it was one of my friends who's sitting right here. No, sisters, don't say a thing. I don't want to know who did it, because I'm going to take full responsibility. So, Gigi, how are you going to make me pay? Are you going to steal another boy from me? Sorry, I don't have one handy. What are you going to do, you puny little witch?"

"If my sisters would just let go of me, I'd show you," said Gigi. "I'd tear your hair out. I'd spit in your face. I'd stick my hand up your huge slimy cunt, you five-dollar whore."

Francie was surprising herself. She found that the more worked up Gigi got, the calmer she felt. She knew Gigi was nothing but trouble. She should get up and leave, even though it would be humiliating. But she needed a jolt to get out of her funk. Maybe getting back at Gigi would help her recover her self-respect. Anything was better than feeling like she did now and gaining more weight.

"I'm not playing basketball, Gigi," she said. "You can't get away with your wandering hands like you do on the court. And I don't care how it looks that you're much smaller than me. I could lift your little body up with one arm. I'd love a chance to throw you around like bag of garbage. Actually, it would be the same thing. But I know you're just a little bully. Unless you can get away scot free, like you do on the court, you'd never go up against someone who's bigger than you. So you're just going to have to pout and pretend, little girl."

"I'm not afraid of you," said Gigi. "Bring it on right now. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. I'm small, but I'm strong and fast, and I'll take you on anytime, anyplace."

At this point, the sorority president told them both to shut up and not say another word until the meeting was over. Francie noticed the meeting went fast, and as soon as it was over, the president said, "OK, now let's talk about Francie and Gigi. I think we should let them at each other. It's like a duel in the old days. They need satisfaction. But there have to be rules, too. I'm going to appoint one friend of each of them. You will be the seconds.

"The seconds are going to talk to Francie and Gigi and find out what they'd like to do to each other, and then the seconds will meet and work out the rules of the duel. I want a report at next Monday's meeting. And if I hear about any member saying anything about this outside of our house -- or telling stories about Francie or Gigi to anyone -- that member will be excommunicated for life. Hold it back until next Monday, girls."

I hate myself for being so stupid, thought Francie as she looked at herself in the steamy mirror as she stepped out of the shower. It was Friday of the following week, and she was getting ready for the duel.

Look at me, she thought. This whole thing has gotten me so upset that I must have gained five more pounds in the last two weeks. My breasts are really hanging now. If I painted them purple, they'd look like giant eggplants. And I've got another fold of belly fat.

She thought about Monday night when all the girls started calling the duel the catfight of the century. There weren't many rules. Both girls had to wear bathing suits. Both of them had been declawed at a nail shop under the supervision of the opponent's second. No gouging or biting was permitted. But otherwise anything was allowed.

It was a fight to the finish, which meant that as long as one of them still wanted to humiliate the other one, they wouldn't stop.

She knew that the sorority's living room would be cleared of all furniture. They were putting layers of thick exercise padding on the entire floor to try to prevent injuries. One of the girls who worked in a photo studio had brought over a bunch of lights, and there would be at least 10 of the sisters stationed around the room with their expensive video cameras shooting the action from every angle. She imagined the video would become a sorority treasure, shown every year during hell week to frighten the new pledges.

Of course, Francie was ready first. She knew Gigi had to make an entrance, but she and the others were shocked when Gigi walked in wearing a hooded robe and then quickly took it off. Her head was as bald as billiard ball, and her body gleamed. She had covered it in oil.

Francie had watched some lesbian wrestling videos on the Internet during the week, but she couldn't remember a thing. She knew she was in pretty good shape, except for the extra fat, because she worked out a few times a week, but she was not the athlete Gigi was. She just hoped she could inflict some humiliation on her opponent and wear her out enough so she wouldn't be able to do too much damage to her. Other than that, she didn't have any strategy, and she knew that was a mistake. She already saw Gigi had some kind of game plan with the hair shaving and the oil. It would be hard for Francie to grab hold of anything.

They stood up facing each other, and then the president gave the signal to start. Before Francie could blink, Gigi grabbed hold of her one-piece bathing suit, and her little body was swinging from it like a monkey from a tree. The straps kept it in place, but Gigi's weight made Francie bend over, and when she did, Gigi's feet touched the ground. She was no longer swinging, but she was still grasping the top tightly with both hands, and she now leaned back with her entire weight wrenching the top. Francie tried to move with Gigi's hands, but it was too late. The top was pulled up her body, and her breasts sprang free.

A gasp went up from the sisters as Gigi began talking trash. "What a fucking cow, you are, Francie," she said. "Look at those udders. They must be full of milk. Let's find out. Oh, you didn't like that squeeze, did you. Jeez, those tits are so huge that I need two hands to hold on to them. Let's see if I can grab your left one. There, I've got it. Now let's twist it a little, like that. Look at how it's going around on itself. Soon it will look like a pretzel."

Francie cried out when Gigi began twisting her breast. She tried to grab the smaller girl, but her hands slipped off. She decided she'd have to go for the bathing suit, too, and her arms were able to reach it the bottom of the two-piece suit. When Gigi felt her grasp the suit, she let go of Francie's breast and grabbed Francie's long hair with both hands and pulled hard. Francie's head snapped back and she screamed, but she didn't let go of the suit bottom. She decided to fall back to see if she could pull it free.

As she fell back, Gigi flew toward her, still holding tightly to her hair, but with a huge effort, Francie got Gigi's suit bottom over her behind and down to the knees. She kept pulling as she felt Gigi release her hair. She was able to maneuver Gigi by holding onto the suit until finally it came free. Another gasp came from the sisters as they saw Gigi was as bald between the legs as she was on her head.

While she had been concentrating on Gigi's suit, she hadn't noticed where Gigi's hands were going. But now she found out as she felt incredible pain coming from her crotch area. "You forgot to shave your slimy pubic hair, Francie," said Gigi. "You've got quite a bush down there, and I've got my hand around enough of it that I can rip it right off your body if you don't hold still. That's it. I'm releasing one hand, but the other one still has plenty of pussy hair. I'll pull it a little so you can feel it.

"Now stand up straight while I pull down your old-lady swimming suit. Haven't you ever heard of bikinis. Oh, look at that. What were we hiding under that big suit. Look at that fat. You are really a whale. No wonder Josiah dumped you. You are repulsive. No, don't move yet, because I'm pulling your top down your body, to your feet, so everyone can see your big layers of fat on your stomach and your big fat tits hanging down over them. There. Let me step back and admire you." She finally let go of Francie's pubic hair.

Francie was red in the face. She had anticipated that her extra weight might be embarrassing, but Gigi's words still stung.

"You are a whale, Francie," said Gigi, standing a few feet away from her and pointing to her. "Look at those folds. Look at those two huge things hanging from your chest. You can't call those breasts. They are just huge pieces of hanging fat. Yes, blink your eyes. The lights are on you, and all the cameras are recording your shame.

"I don't think I could do anything to humiliate you more than you're doing by standing there, you big, fat disgusting cow. So I'm willing to call this over and let you crawl back under your rock and hide."

Francie knew what Gigi was doing. She wanted to quit while she was ahead. Francie had barely touched her, while Gigi had pulled some hair, twisted a breast, stripped her naked and made fun of her weight. Part of her wanted to give in and just leave, but she didn't think that for long.

As Gigi finished her invitation to surrender, Francie lunged and grabbed for Gigi's swimsuit top. She succeeded and then easily ripped it off her by pulling it straight up. It pulled at her nice round, perfect breasts before it came loose, and Gigi said, "Ouch!" loudly. The sisters laughed, and Francie saw how that got Gigi angry.

"So the big tub of lard doesn't want to go melt someplace," Gigi said. "She wants more. Well, Francie, get ready for some hurt." As she spoke, she jumped at Francie and reached for her hair with both hands. Francie flicked her head away, and Gigi missed and landed at her feet. There were a few cheers, but they were followed by gasps as Gigi grasped Francie's ankles and threw herself back, ripping Francie's feet out from under her. Francie fell hard on her back, but she bounced high and didn't feel any pain because of all the cushioning.

Before she could respond, Gigi had run back and jumped on her stomach, landing as hard as she could with both feet. It kocked the wind out of Francie, and before she could recover, Gigi got up with one leg on either side of Francie and then sat down hard on Francie's belly. She repeated this a few times until Francie was out of breath and dizzy.

When Gigi saw that Francie's arms and legs and head weren't moving, she got up and walked around Francie slowly. Francie's eyes were open, but she felt horrible. All her strength had left her. I'm just a pile of fat lying on this mat, and Gigi has totally vanquished me, she thought. I guess I better just give in before she jumps on my belly again.

But Gigi didn't extend an offer this time. After she had walked around Francie three times and inspected every inch of the lifeless girl on the mat, she decided on her coupe de grace. First she bounced on Francie's stomach a few more times until Francie was gasping for air. Then she got up again and walked over to where Francie's legs were stretched out.

She grabbed Francie's ankles and lifted them up. Then using all the weight of her small body, Gigi leaned into the legs and slowly pushed them back. Francie looked up and saw her legs above her and slowly moving back over her head. It didn't hurt at all because Francie often did the plow position in her yoga workouts, but she was worried, because she knew Gigi wasn't doing this to stretch her.

Sure enough, once Francie's feet were past her ears, Gigi moved forward and sat down hard on her thighs, pushing them into her chest and crushing her breasts. Francie cried out with the pain. As she did, Gigi rose quickly, turned around and sat down hard again before Francie's legs could drop. Again her breasts were painfully crushed.

Gigi was sitting on Francie's legs, which were pushed back over her and down into her breasts. She was facing away from Francie. She scooted back on the legs toward Francie's head. She kept going until she was sitting on the back of Francie's knees, with Francie's feet up in the air above her. In front of Gigi, Francie's naked rear was pushed up facing Gigi.

Francie didn't see Gigi as she put a finger into the air and waved it at the audience, put it into her mouth and licked it, but she felt it when the finger started stroking her pubic hair, and she groaned when it entered her vagina, which was spread open because of her position. Gigi wasn't trying to hurt her now. She was doing something worse.

Her finger gently probed Francie, coming out occasionally to rub her outer lips, then entering her again and caressing the insides of her vagina. Then she moved it to the clitoris, which she lightly stroked as Francie's groans grew louder. She didn't rush, but when Francie's body began responding, Gigi tried to match the rhythm of its movement. Francie tried to control herself, but finally, she sighed and shook wildly several times. Francie had brought her to orgasm in front of all her friends. She was completely mortified.

Gigi wasn't finished. She pulled her finger from Francie and held it high in the air again, this time with a second finger next to it. She inserted both fingers and began to move them in and out. Francie couldn't keep her body from responding, even when a third finger entered.

But when the fourth finger went in, a chill came over her, and she was no longer excited. She realized what Francie was about to do, and she tried to move her lower body and legs away from the fingers. But the fingers followed wherever she squirmed and kept going in and out. Then, Gigi tucked her thumb behind the four fingers, and now all five were going into her.

Francie decided she was going to roll to the side, even if it meant breaking Gigi's arm, but Gigi must have anticipated her, because her other hand grabbed her pubic hair again and give it a quick tug. "Just lie back and enjoy it, Francie," said Gigi. "I'm ready to move any way that you want, so don't worry about me. But if you want to try anything, remember I'm holding a lot of your pubic hair right now, and I won't hesitate to rip it right off your skin. So you might hurt me, but you'll pay for it with a lot of pain.