Catfight Chronicles: The Scout

Jessie's lips smacked. It was unconscious, and she did it when she read. Her gum, long drained of flavor, was a bland rubber thing that got tougher and tougher as her smacking got louder. She turned the page of the report.

Smack.

A list of names ran down the page in a tidy column; five more tidy columns ran down the page beside it, but these had numbers. Decimals, percentages, and averages.

Jessie skimmed through. She noted the average's column, and used the other numbers to create context. She always saw these numbers as parts of a painting. Each part worked together, telling what happened and, if she was lucky, what will happen. She turned the page and smacked her lips, louder.

There were thirty pages in the manilla folder, hundreds of names to sift through, and too little time to do it. She put the folder down and ran her fingers through her auburn hair. She leaned back in her chair and took in the room. The carpet was lusciously red and the walls were beige. Bare, the room was nothing to marvel at. A touch on the dull side, Jessie believed.

But when she became a scout, she took it upon herself to spruce the place up. Dried leaves from towns she visited hung in frames lining the walls. Tapestries draped over the office's single window, and a bronze statue of a naked woman sat on the corner of her desk next to her pens and a bundle of carnations she replaced weekly.

Her office still had room for improvement, but this was better than the bleak walls she inherited. She looked back at the open folder. The numbers painted pictures. These pictures were tools, useful in guiding her to the next move, and if she was a gambling girl, they were pretty damn accurate.

But pictures never tell the whole story in catfighting.

Some girls have astonishing averages but hit the mat cumming and never get that spark back. Some girls are rock bottom of the curve, but are unbreakable vixens to the core. Numbers helped Jessie see the girl.

Watching the girl fight let Jessie see her spirit.

She closed the folder and tucked it away in her satchel. She recognized two names from the paper this morning. Avina, a twenty five year old from the country, and Lera, a thirty year old gatekeeper to the league.

The two were set to fight in, Jessie checked her watch and dashed out the door, right about now in the town square arena.

Avina crossed her legs. They were slender and tight. All she wore for the fight was a leather thong and silver nipple pasties with emeralds in the center. She had nothing to hide. Her pride surged as the crowd gathered. Onlookers peered at both fighters, but Avina was sure she caught the most attention.

A young rookie on a hot streak. Never been cummed on the mat and won in dominant fashion--her pussy tightened at the thought of afterwin punishment. Her name was growing. She knew a win here would cement her reputation.

She stretched, for the crowd, and lightly shook her perky breasts. They slapped into each other. She pushed out her chest, also for the crowd, to accentuate her slim waist and firm rear. Finally, for the crowd, she flipped her dark hair over her shoulder so that it partially covered one of her breasts.

For Lera, she locked eyes and yawned.

Lera, if she was three years younger, might have taken offense. She might have taken offense to the crowd chattering about Avina's showboating. She might have even taken offense to the crowd's apparent favoritism for the dark skin rookie from the woodland.

But Lera was not three years younger.

She was a veteran catfighter. She had been cummed and she had cummed several girls. She had been at the receiving end of afterwin and the taking end. It was part of the game, and she had even become friends with old rivals.

While she never became a league fighter, she rightly earned the title of gatekeeper. She was a catfighter with a generous record, but this year, she aimed to have a remarkable record.

She sat at the other corner of the arena. She, similarly, wore just jean shorts, that let half her ass hang out, and black tape-crosses on her nipples. Her body, having endured more clawing, twisting, and slapping than the rookie's, was still the body of a pretty young thing. Her breasts were ample, just more than handfuls, and her ass was toned, just one size too big for her struggling shorts.

In a cheeky reply, she crossed her legs and tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. Her blue eyes never broke from Avina's brown eyes as the two exchanged silent threats.

The rookie was fast, but the gatekeeper was experienced.

The rookie was confident, but the gatekeeper was levelheaded.

The rookie was explosive, but the gatekeeper could take a beating.

Despite all differences, both girls shared one similarity: They needed to impress the scout that just nudged her way to the arena.

The ref stepped through the ropes and walked between them both. She inhaled and spoke into a mic clipped to her ear.

TODAY WE HAVE A NEW VERSUS OLD MATCH. AVINA. The ref turned and pointed to Avina. She stood and shook her breasts again, harder. The crowd roared and whistled. AND LERA. The ref turned to Lera, who stood and waved. Most the fans here had seen her breasts in action. It was nothing new. Still, the crowd cheered.

Lera found comfort in that.

The ref beckoned for the girls to approach. They did, but the ref made sure to keep them arm's length from each other.

BOTH GIRLS HAVE INFORMALLY AGREED UPON A ONE CUM, AFTERWIN MATCH. DO YOU AGREE AND HAVE YOU DRANK THE ELIXIR? The ref asked Avina.

Avina, never breaking eye contact with Lera, smugly nodded. The smugness was a natural part of her bravado. An extra edge to have on opponents before the fight even began. But today, the smugness had bonus cause. The elixir, whether by miracle or tolerance, was duller. Lust burned in her nether regions. Her thong clung to her pussy because of dampness, and the need to fuck raged inside her.

But she could focus. It was not like the other times, where she knew that if she did not climax by the end of the hour, she would... she didn't know. It was just so bad she could shove anything into her aching pussy for relief.

That sensation was gone today, replaced by sharp, narrow focus.

She would fuck Lera.

She would have her way with the blonde bruiser.

DO YOU AGREE? The ref asked Lera.

Lera leaned in. Evil flashed across her face, giving her a smugness that took Avina aback, though the rookie would never show it.

"I do not agree."

The ref, ready to start the match, stuttered her words as she stared at Lera puzzled.

Y-you... DO NOT AGREE.

She said it as a statement but, from her face, it was a question.

Lera stood straight and inhaled. Projecting as loud as she could, she announced to the crowd:

I DECLARE A DRINK SUB MATCH.

The arena's volume shriveled. Not a single word passed until the ref's licking lips subtly broke the silence.

A DRINK SUB MATCH?

Lera nodded, her smugness having broken through Avina's.

The rookie was stunned. Whether she was nervous, not even she could tell, but she was certainly stunned. A drink match. To put that much on the line for an under league match.

Avina looked up and realized. This was it. The scout at the ring's edge watched in anticipation for the next decision. This was Lera's plan. Few people cared about these matches but to make it a drink sub match would make it the talk of the town.

And if Avina won, she would be the talk of the town... if.

Avina confidently rolled back into her smug smile and nodded. I ACCEPT.

The crowd gasped as one. Murmurs rose. New energy zapped through the arena. This was a sight hardly seen.

The ref nodded her approval.

IT IS DECLARED. THE FIGHT SHALL BE DECIDED BY SUBMISSION. DRINK IS... the ref paused. PERMITTED.

The crowd roared in approval.

Avina and Lera walked back to their corners, each girl giddy in the spectacle they were about to initiate. The ref counted down.

5...

4...

3...

Lera turned and hunched, ready to take Avina to the ground.

2...

Avina turned and danced on the balls of her feet. She would keep Lera at a distance.

1... FIGHT.

Jessie could not help it. A subconscious grin formed when the two girls clashed. Avina kneed Lera in the gut, Lera attempted to throw Avina off balance. Avina got a few hooks off to Lera's abs, Lera failed a take down.

The rookie took full advantage and grabbed Lera's hair. In two swift motions, she kneed Lera in the face.

The veteran flew back. Avina's legs were strong and twitchy. She was quick. And cocky. Avina jumped onto Lera and began mauling her crotch. It was difficult through the jean shorts so she moved her attention to the blonde's breasts.

Avina dug her nails in. Lera gritted her teeth. "Get off!" She yelled.

"No!" Avina yelled back in a playful tone. "No! No! No!" She giggled, mockingly. "Lera's tits are saggy, Lera's tits are saggy!" She began to sing, rending her nails deeper.

Red scratch lines formed like a street map on Lera's pale breasts. She hated this. She bucked her hips, but Avina was too athletic. She simply went with the motion and sat back down harder.

No use.

Avina's song started gathering a chorus from the crowd.

Lera's tits are saggy! Lera's tits are saggy!

The attack was relentless and Lera was nearing her threshold. She just needed to find some imbalance in Avina's posture.

Lera reached up. Instead of trying to remove Avina's hands, she grabbed the rookie's dark hair.

And yanked.

"Bitch!" Avina scowled, but her posture remained mostly intact.

Lera smiled. Though Avina was still in control, she was new to fighting. She had not learned to control her emotions. Now Lera knew Avina's hair was sensitive.

With both hands, she yanked harder, not letting up until Avina stopped clawing her breasts and began slapping.

Gotcha. Lera summoned her energy and bucked Avina clear off.

Avina rolled to the other side of the ring but recovered quickly, rubbing her scalp as she stood up.

Lera stood up with a faint grin.

"Something funny, bitch?" Avina walked forward. "Your tits are just... Wow, a sad display."

Avina got in stance. She was ready to kick. She zeroed in on Lera's gut.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Lera was just... standing there. No stance. No attempt to defend.

No, she held out her arms to the crowd and began revving them up. "Does anyone wanna see this cunt go down?"

The crowd lightly cheered.

WELL, DO YA?

The crowd erupted. It was a cacophony of screaming, jeering, and whistling. Avina stood still. She knew what Lera was doing. Winning was winning, but winning with style... That got the coin.

Avina dropped her stance. She straightened her shoulders and, emphasizing the motion of her hips, strutted up to Lera. With an open hand, she slapped her.

Then stood back, and without guard, welcomed retaliation.

Lera understood this. She wound up and sent a slap to Avina that nearly knocked the rookie over.

She recovered and went straight back, slap.

Lera flew back, recovered, and came straight back, slap.

Both girls were woozy. The floor was shifting on its own, but they both still stood.

Avina readied her next slap. She wound back. Lera, seemingly, accepted this. Avina sent her hand flying and connected.

Lera fell to a knee. Avina smiled. She knew she was the harder hitter. She moved in as Lera struggled to stand.

The rookie wound the finishing strike. Lera's red cheek was defenseless. Avina sent her hand flying.

It never made it.

Lera was still hunched, low to the ground. In the final moments before the slap landed, Lera finally got her takedown--or close enough.

Avina was frozen as Lera put a vice grip on her pussy. The rookie slowly looked down, realizing what happened as pain radiated. Lera's pale fingers were digging in.

Lera twisted her grip.

The dark-skinned girl yelped.

Lera's grip tightened.

And despite the leather thong, Lera's nails dug in. She yanked and torqued until Avina was standing on her own toes, clawing at Lera's hand.

It was no use. The veteran began guiding the rookie backwards, pushing her by the pussy; Avina desperately kept her balance. If she fell, that grip would never let go. Avina also knew she could not get pushed onto the ropes.

Avina threw a reckless slap at Lera. The blonde recoiled from it, but grinned and tightened her grip. Avina's legs trembled. The pain radiated up and down her nether regions. Every time Lera stepped forward, her grip torqued left and right. Every time her grip torqued left and right, a pit grew in Avina's stomach. The pain. It was too much. And it was turning her on.

She slapped Lera again.

And again.

And again.

Avina was near the ropes. She was howling, unable to keep her balance. Several times, she was only kept up by Lera's grip, which had somehow gotten tighter. Lera, herself, was surprised at how strong her fingers were.

When she initially dug into the rookie's soft, forbidden area, she did not hesitate. She grabbed and held on with all she had. Yet, as if lust compelled her, she found the strength to squeeze harder and harder... and harder.

Every slap angered her. That was all. The sting on her skin dissipated as soon as it happened; her head might have been jarred but it was no matter. She had Avina's pussy in a vice grip, or cuntlock as the older girls might say, and Avina was keeling over.

A devil inside Lera would not let the rookie go, not yet. Even under her dark skin, Avina's cheeks blushed. Sweat sheened over her tight body as her breasts rocked back and forth. Her howls were both harsh screams of pain and soft moans of ecstasy. Lera knew Avina was in a bad spot.

She twisted Avina's pussy again. Avina fell against the ropes, heaving. Rasping. No more! No more!

She desperately held her hands out, not to push Lera away.

But to beg.

Rage swelled in Lera. Heat simmered behind her eyes. The vice grip on Avina's pussy was not going anywhere.

"Excuse me? No more?" Lera was astounded. She gathered the spit in her mouth, jerked Avina closer by the pussy, and spit into the rookie's eye. "After all that talk, all that cocky-bitch bravado, you are just a pathetic... well... bitch?"

Tears welled in Avina's eyes. She would have rubbed the spit from her left eye, but her hands were already occupied, futilely trying to wrench off Lera's grip.

"N... No!" Avina's voice crumbled into a sob. The relentless cuntlock. The utter domination of Lera. The humiliation of what came after.

"No?" Lera asked. She reached with her free hand and yanked off one of Avina's nipple pasties.

Cold air hit the exposed nipple. It was already hard from the pain--and excitement--but now it was shivering.

Lera grinned wide, bearing her white teeth as she leaned in and chomped on the nipple.

Avina opened her mouth to scream. No words came out. She flailed her arms. She bucked against the ropes. Lera twisted Avina's pussy back and forth. From that alone, Avina was nauseous, already mouthing the words: Give! Give!

But Lera was not finished. She grinded her teeth on Avina's nipple, turning it red. Smooshing it, feeling it pop, as the rookie heaved. As if it could not get crueler, Lera felt a new sensation.

Wet.

Warm.

Slick.

Avina was so wet, her thick leather thong was dark with nectar. She dripped down her legs, all the way to her ankles. She dripped all over Lera's hand. Her pussy was red, but it was desperately horny.

As Avina found the ability to inhale again, she tried to say the words: Give! Give!

But just as she found her breath, she lost it.

Lera, keeping her cuntlock tight, jammed her thumb into Avina's pussy. She moved her thumb up and down, sending shivers through Avina.

At first, it was stabbing pain. Lera's thumbnail crunched into Avina's most forbidden parts. Then, it was pleasure. A swirl of warmth went straight up to her head.

Lera had found Avina's clit.

She began toying with it, using it as a controller to make Avina swoon and blush and rasp.

The rookie was desperate.

She could hardly catch her breath.

She needed to scream she gave up over the cheering crowd. Despite her mouthing it and shaking her head, the ref did not care. She was enjoying the match and would not end it without a clear vocal submission.

Avina began trying to control her breathing. Lera bit down harder. Lera thumbed the clit deeper.

Avina could not. She could not control her breathing. She could not control anything. She was to tears, sobbing silently as both the relentless domination of Lera continued and the elixir brought her to a humiliating climax she could not resist.

She waved at the ref again. The ref ignored her. A puddle of Avina's juiced collected as the room spun. She needed to catch her breath.

Goosebumps ran up and down her body. Her spine tingled. She shivered from the cold air, the warm pleasure, the mindbending pain. She could not take it

She cannot take it.

I CANNOT TAKE IT!

She screamed. Whether she found her breath or by magic, she sent a bloodcurdling scream. It echoed as the arena fell silent.

Lera reluctantly let go. To no one's surprise, that was all that was keeping Avina standing as she collapsed, wet, heaving, and broken. Lera kicked Avina onto her back.

The veteran, the blonde bruiser, planted her foot firmly on the bare breast of the loser. It knocked what little breath from Avina and sent crushing pressure to her ribs. Avina tried to raise her hands to push the foot off, but she was exhausted. Her arms fell and lay limp.

The ref jogged to Lera and held her hand up.

THE BLONDE BRUISER TAKES THE VICTORY. NOW CLAIM YOUR PRIZE...

Lera licked her lips. She was going to enjoy this.

Avina wanted to cry. She was too exhausted. At least that saved her some shame, but not much.

Lera sat on her face. She wiggled her ass, pretending to get comfortable. "Enjoy the view, darling." She quipped.

Lera reached forward and grabbed Avina's legs. Avina could not resist.

Lera brought Avina's legs closer until the rookie's entire womanhood was sitting right there, on display for the crowd and most importantly, Lera. All that stood in the way was a damp piece of leather.

Tenderly, and playfully, Lera got Avina's legs under her arms and put the full weight of her ass on the defeated rookie's face, shoving it into the canvas.

Lera continued to be tender, but not for Avina's sake. It was to draw this out. To show complete control, that Lera could take her time and do whatever, whenever. She ran her fingers over Avina's thong.

The rookie's entire lower half quivered uncontrollably.

"Well someone wants it." Lera wiggled her ass again.

"No..." The word barely made it out between her labored breaths.

"Oh... Well sweetie, fight better next... Actually, don't. Just go home." Lera began peeling Avina's thong off. Slowly, her womanhood was revealed. A tight slit and tighter asshole. The cold air made them both quiver.

Once Lera could see everything, she paused. It was beautiful. It was her prize. Her submitted opponent under her, her submitted opponent's delicacies offered up. This is why Lera fought. To garner name and...

Glory.

She leaned in and sucked. Her tongue probed in and out, and around Avina's southern lips. Avina rasped. She wanted to moan but her throat was hoarse from the fight. All she could do was uncontrollably quiver and instinctively rasp as Lera drank.

Avina's juice spilled out. The orgasm that had been tucked away was drug to the surface for Lera to play with. Her tongue worked in circles. Avina jolted. Though she was broken, exhausted to the point of no resistance, her body moved with Lera's tongue; her legs were held aloft and twitched.