If you read my first cyber fight, with Cinnamon Cougar, on the message boards a few months back you might have wondered why it ended so abruptly. The fact is that you only see the public part that we post. Behind the scenes there’s a bit of negotiating that I guess I wasn’t prepared for. I’d sort of let Cinnamon get into a dominant position and I had an idea of how things might go and might also spawn another story.
I ran my ideas past her but she wasn’t interested. She was winning and she just wanted a total domination victory. What she forgot was that it was my move next. Call me a control freak if you like but her rebuttal pissed me off, so I thought “fuck that” and just finished it with me coming out on top.
This two-part story is a second take on that fight and its aftermath. It’s what would have happened if she’d gone with my ideas. I’ve already written (in my story “corner girl”) how the aftermath of the posted cyber fight played out so you need to think of this one as happening in a parallel universe to the one my stories normally take place in.
Hope you enjoy it,
Ellen
It was mid-October and late on a Tuesday afternoon. The summer season was over, the tourists had gone and Dream Catchers, like all the other shops in the village, was quiet. At this time of year, we only get the odd day tripper or local artists popping in for supplies. I let Carrie go around 3pm as she was keen to take her pony for a trot before it got dark. I was just getting ready to close up, sorting a few on-line orders and ringing up the day’s takings, when a woman came into the shop. She was a very attractive, smartly dressed woman in her fifties with black hair and coffee coloured skin.
“Good afternoon,” I said to her, “can I help you?”
“Nice place,” She said, her American accent giving away the fact that she was a tourist, “Mind if I take a look around?”
“Feel free, honey,” I replied, “I’ll be closing in a few minutes but just let me know if there’s anything you want.”
I went back to what I was doing and didn’t take much notice of her. A few minutes later I was done. I locked the till and looked around for the woman to ask her to leave. There was no sign of her. I assumed she’d left while I wasn’t watching. I went to the shop door, turned the sign to ‘closed’ and locked it. Then I went back to the counter, picked up my laptop and headed for the office at the back of the shop. I was set on a quiet night at home alone. The last thing on my mind was fighting.
At my desk I picked up my back and shoved the laptop in it. Then, as I headed for the back door, I noticed the store room door was open and the light was still on. I walked across to the store room and looked inside. She was standing there in the middle of the room staring back at me with intent. I was surprised but polite:
“I’m sorry. Can I help you? You really shouldn’t be back here and I’ve closed for the day but you can leave with me through the back door if you like.”
Her response caught me unawares.
"I hear through the grapevine that you are a woman that likes to throw down. And I came here to see if that is true. I have been stalking you, waiting and watching for a time when I might be able to work that HOT body over and make you my BITCH!"
She stepped towards me. She was dressed in a little black dress, a string of pearls, and stiletto heels. She was tall, even without the heels and towered over me, giving off an aura of self-confidence. I tried my best to appear calm and collected as she slowly moved towards me until she was just beyond arm’s length. She bent down to unfasten and remove her shoes, her miniskirt rising up, giving me a clear view of the thong, she was wearing. She kicked off her shoes, straightened up and said:
"YOU and I are going to see which of us is the better woman!"
‘Oh shit, another one!’ I thought, why do all these women want a piece of me all of a sudden? First Lynne, then Nat and now this Yankee bitch. A voice in my head answered: “Because of your reputation you silly cow, you really should have thought of that before you made all those fight videos.”
My subconscious sounded like my sister, nagging me about my reckless pastime. I really didn’t feel like fighting but she’d come a long way and she seem determined. I didn’t think she’d settle for “not tonight, I have a headache”. This was only going to go one way.
With her shoes off she was still about three inches taller than me, slimmer but with big tits and long legs, my least favourite combination in a catfight opponent. I guessed she was younger than me, but not by much, probably 10lbs lighter and pretty fit. To be honest I didn’t fancy my chances but she was on my turf so I had no option.
I stepped towards her, blocking the store room doorway. The store room was pretty empty, the Christmas stock hadn’t arrived yet. Better we fight here than in the office. Absently I noticed that she’d cleared all the boxes from the floor and hung the sheets we use for painting classes over the shelves – she’d really thought this through. I did my best not to seem intimidated as I said:
“You’re trespassing, bitch, normally I’d just kick a trespasser out but, in your case, I guess I’ll have to knock you out first.”
With that I shoved her in the chest. She took a step back. I stepped into the store room, closed the door behind me and said:
“I’m sure you don’t want to ruin that nice dress so I’ll give you a moment to take it off.”
With that I kicked off my deck shoes, undid my jeans and let them drop to the floor. Then I pulled my sweater over my head and stood before her in just my simple white cotton bra and panties. No thongs for me, I like comfortable underwear at work.
“Ready when you are, honey.” I said, “By the way, what’s your name? I always like to know who my victims were.”
She never did tell me but she quickly unzipped her skirt and dropped it to the floor, revealing a sexy lace bra to match her thong. She stretched and said:
“I have a proposition for you, Ellen.”
I stared at her coldly as she continued:
“Whoever is the first to quit, OR be knocked unconscious will be the winners BITCH! And the winner may do whatever she desires with the pathetic loser, as she deserves!”
I nodded my head in agreement. She stopped stretching and put out a hand toward me, beckoning me with a finger and saying, in a low voice:
“Come at me, BITCH…and see what happens!!!”
My initial reaction was WTF? There was something about her cocksure demeanour that I found very irritating. What’s all the ‘come hither’ crap? Are we fighting or dancing? Sorry honey, I don’t do slap and tickle, I only do thump and smack – thump when I punch you and smack when your head hits the floor.
I took a step towards her and my fists flashed. A right hook hit her temple and knocked her back against the sheeted shelves. A straight left flattened her right breast. A right upper cut connected with her jaw and she collapsed to her knees, clutching her injured tit.
I took another step forward and stood over her menacingly. I balled my fists and growled:
“Come on bitch, show me what you’ve got!”
She looked shocked and dazed and, for a moment, I though ‘well that was easy’. Then she reared up and punched me hard between the legs. Her fist slammed into my pussy and pain coursed through me.
“Fuuuuck!” I cried, as my hands went instinctively to my injured sex, and cursed myself for making the school girl error of standing too close to a downed opponent.
She scrambled to her feet and hit me again, slightly higher up in the soft part of my lower belly. I immediately felt sick as I staggered back, my hands clutching my panties, and my knees start to buckle. Her right upper cut connected with my left tit, knocking it out of the cup of my bra. She reached for the front of my bra and pulled me towards her by the fabric. Needless to say the catch on the back quickly gave way and I was left topless as she clutched the remains of my boob basket.
She looked at my tits hanging free, smiled and said: “Nice!”
Still clutching my aching pussy, I glanced down at the girls, momentarily distracted, and failed to notice her fire off a haymaking left hook. Her fist connected with my right temple and the floor leapt up and punched me in the face – at least that what it felt like as I went face down on the deck.
Before she could follow up, I rolled onto my back, dazed and hurt but ready to fend her off. She bent over me looking mildly amused, grabbed my nipples and gave them a savage twist. I screamed in pain and my right foot lashed out and buried itself in her sexy thong – that wiped the smile off her face, at least for a second or two.
Unfortunately for me, her long legs meant that my kick didn’t carry much power. Although my toes connected with her pussy, I was at the limit of my reach and it probably felt more like a tickle than the cxnt busting kick I intended. Rather than hurt her as I intended, it just made her mad.
Annoyed at my pathetic attempt, she reached down and grabbed the front of my cotton panties and pulled. The fabric disappeared into my arse and pussy and she actually lifted me off the floor by them. The pain was excruciating. I screamed at the top of my voice:
“AAGGGGHHHH! MY PUSSY! MY BUM! LET ME GO! PLEASE! LET ME GO!
I pounded the floor with my hands but there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t reach her. She grinned at me and said:
“How does that feel? Not so high and mighty now, are you Ellen?”
Eventually the elastic snapped and the fabric tore and she straightened up, the remains of my knickers in her hand, as my bare bum slammed back into the floor. She took a step back. I lay there, naked and exposed, and began to sob as I anticipated her next move.
I realised too late that I had underestimated her. I thought she was another chancer like Lynne, a rookie looking to have a crack at the legendary Ellen Shaw. But she wasn’t, she was an experienced cat fighter and strong with it. She may not have been in Jan’s league but she was a fuck sight better at this sort of thing than I was. I was in serious trouble.
I rolled over onto my hands and knees, attempting to stand up and make a break for the store room door. But now she was behind me and I was vulnerable. She punted me in the pussy again with her right foot. Unlike my feeble attempt, her blow struck home with full force. The impact of her kick shot me forward onto my belly and my head slammed into the store room door.
I was face down, I was dazed and my pussy was on fire. I groaned as I tried to push myself up and grab the door handle. I knew she was behind me and I was desperate to escape. But the door opened inwards, even if I reached the handle I couldn’t open it if I was leaning against it. I was trapped.
Suddenly I felt her hot breath on my shoulder and she whispered in my ear: “Going somewhere? Oh, don’t leave so soon Ellen, the party’s just getting started.”
She grabbed me by the hair and started to haul me back to my feet before turning me to face her. She fired off a series of open-handed slaps to my face, alternating a right forehand and then backhand a half dozen times, Bitch Slapping me!
My head swayed with each slap. I tasted iron, she’d cut my lip. I was dazed and fading fast. I obviously looked done in. She stopped slapping, my knees buckled and I slid down the door. She bent down, her face inches from mine and screamed:
"I OWN YOUR FAT ASS, ELLEN! . . . . . WHO'S YOUR DADDY, BITCH?!?! . . . . "
Then she grabbed both of my nipples simultaneously and yanked me to my feet. Then she dragged me around her clockwise by my nipples! I’ve never had my tits so abused. I wailed as she released me and sent me flying backwards into the back wall of the store room.
She was quickly on me again, slashing my arms and boobs with her long nails before grabbing my nipples again. The pain was excruciating. Although my hands were free, the pain prevented me from fighting back. I grabbed at her wrists and tried to pull her hands away but she just smiled as she continued pinching and twisting my nipples as hard as she could. Eventually the pain was so much that I let go of her wrists. I was powerless. Pushed up against the wall, wailing and sobbing. Tears streaming down my face. My arms hanging limply at my sides.
"And now, my new BITCH, time to finish this!" she cried.
She released my nipples and I slumped against the wall, sobbing, as she started to slowly lower her panties. I had no idea what she planned to do next but I knew that, whatever it was, I couldn’t do anything about it.
She kicked off her thong, picked it up and slapped me around the face with the love juice and sweat soaked garment, painting my face with her juices. My head rolled as she drove her knee into my pussy again. I dropped to my knees, sliding down to the wall, clutching my sex and sobbing in agony.
She grabbed hold of my hair and pulled me back to my feet. As I leaned, unresisting, against the wall, she stuck one hand between my legs, sticking her fingers into my pussy. I couldn’t help myself; I was being beaten senseless but I was turned on and soaking wet. The touch of her fingers on my clit was all it took and I shuddered as I orgasmed.
“YOU DIRTY COW!” She screamed as she lifted me to my tiptoes by my pussy. “How dare you cum without my permission?”
“Oh God, please stop! Please! I’ve had enough. Do what you want but please stop hurting me.” I begged, but my plea fell on deaf ears. She wrapped her free arm around my chest, lifted me in the air, stepped away from the wall and half turned before dropping to one knee and bringing me down, back first, over her raised knee.
I screamed in agony and passed out briefly as she rolled me off her knee and I landed in a heap face down on the floor. As I came to, she nudged me with her foot and I rolled onto my back. I stared up at her as she stood with one foot either side of my shoulders and lowered her wet pussy onto my face.
“Time to have your face fucked, loser.” She said as the folds of her shaven labia engulfed my nose and her love juices poured over my upturned face. Then she stuck her claws into my cxnt and ripped savagely at my sex. I couldn’t scream with her pussy on my face, I just lay there in agony praying she would stop. Instead, she began riding my face, shouting: “Lick me Ellen, make me cum and lick me clean!”
Initially I just lay there, not reacting as she ground her sex into my face, but then she started twisting my nipples again and slashing my boobs with her long nails, shouting:
“LICK ME BITCH OR I’LL RIP YOUR TITS OFF!”
I had no choice; my tongue found her clit and went to work. She began squirming and crying out:
“Oh, yes, yes! Yes! OOOOOOOOOOH! YES!”
As she came all over my face.
At that moment I heard another voice:
“Ellen?... What the fuck!... Get off of my sister!”
There was the unmistakable sound of a kick and a scream and suddenly I was blinded by light and able to breathe again.
“You fucking cxnt, what the hell are you doing?”
Another kick, another scream of agony and then another kick.
“Get up and get out before I kill you, bitch.”
Another kick and a groan.
“I said get up… Oh, fuck you!”
Shadows were flying around the room. I was trying to gather my wits but had no idea what was happening. I heard the sound of someone being hauled to their feet and thrown at the floor again. I hear someone crying, begging for mercy. I heard Carrie’s voice:
“Take your fucking stuff and get out!”
I heard a door open and the sounds of someone dragging a dead weight.
“I said get out, bitch.”
Again, the begging and again Carrie’s voice.
“Now fuck off and don’t come back!”
A door slammed. I opened my eyes and found myself staring up at my baby sister, still dressed in her riding gear of jumper, jodhpurs and riding boots. She screamed at me:
“Oh Ellen, you stupid cow. I could kill you. Why do you have to do this? And why here?”
Then she burst into tears, sobbing:
“Oh, Ellen, look at the state of you? Are you hurt? Come here honey.”
She dropped to her knees and hugged me like her life depended on it. I was confused, all I could think of was the American.
“Where is she?” I asked.
“It’s okay Ellen, she’s gone, she can’t hurt you now, I threw her out.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My baby sister had come to my aid and beaten up the American bitch.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I forgot something. I came back to get it and found this. I assume she’d been fighting you and you’d lost. I kicked her in the face and knocked her off you. Then I kicked her in the tits and in the cxnt. And then I threw her out of the back door and locked it.”
I looked at Carrie in amazement and with a new respect. Sure, she was fully dressed and wearing her riding boots while the American had been all but naked. But Carrie was no fighter. She’d kicked the crap out of this woman to save me. I burst into tears and hugged her as hard as I could.
“Oh Carrie…” was all I could say between sobs.
“Oh, Ellen…” was the only reply I got as she sobbed as well.
It took us a while to calm down. When we finally did, Carrie got the first aid kit out and began patching me up. I was still sitting naked on the store room floor, blood dripping from various cuts and scratches on my tits and between my legs and, of course, my split lip.
All the time she was tending to me, Carrie was alternately cursing me and imploring me to stop fighting. It seemed she was in shock. Not just at what she’d witnessed but also at the way she’d reacted. Carrie the mouse had been transformed into Carrie the tigress.
While I was pretty certain the yank would have let me go after she’d had her orgasm and taken a few photos of my naked, dishevelled and unconscious form, I was still grateful for Carrie’s intervention. More than that, I was impressed that she reacted the way she did to save me. All I could do was apologise and mumble: “It wasn’t my fault.”
When she’d cleaned me up and stopped the bleeding, Carrie told me to get dressed and wait for her in the office while she went to check the store room. Well, my bra and knickers were a write off so I just slipped my sweater over my head, pulled on my jeans, balled my ruined undies and shoved them in my pocket.
Then I went sheepishly to my desk while Carrie set about tidying up the store room. It may be my business but Carrie’s my junior partner and she feels a sense of proprietary ownership, she cares as much as I do, maybe more so. After five minutes or so she reappeared, closed the door behind her and smiled at me slumped in my chair.
“No major damage done – luckily for you!” She scolded, and then, “Jesus, Ellen, you look a mess. Let me get you a drink and tell me what happened.”
I was expecting her to put the kettle on but instead she went to the filing cabinet, got out a bottle of brandy and two glasses and poured us both a stiff measure. She handed me a glass, perched herself on the edge of my desk and said:
“Okay madam, you owe me an explanation for this – tell me what happened.”
I told her how the stranger had come into the shop just before I closed up. How I’d assumed she’d left while I wasn’t looking. How I found her in the store room and how she had immediately challenged me to a fight. I promised her I had no idea who the woman was or why she’d sought me out – although I knew it was because of my reputation. I explained how she was a much better cat fighter than me and had beaten me easily.
“Oh, Ellen – you really have got to stop doing this.” She insisted. “This is bad enough but you’re going to get seriously hurt one of these days. Please, for me, give it up. I don’t want to see you hurt anymore.”
I promised her I would. I explained that I had told the girls at the club that I would stop fighting on my 60th birthday.
“That’s less than six months away.” I reminded Carrie.
“And how many more fights do you have lined up between now and then?”
“Officially? Just four, but there might be one or two more.” I admitted sheepishly.
“Oh Ellen, you are completely shameless.” She said, giving me an affectionate little tap on the knee with the toe of her riding boot. Then she looked serious for a moment. “Do you think she’ll come back? Do you think she’ll come after me?”
“I hope not. Like I said, I have no idea who she is. I’ll ask if anyone knows her. I think she’s just a tourist. She came to beat me and she succeeded, she should be happy with that. She’s probably sitting in a swanky hotel in the city right now, celebrating her victory with champagne. She’ll be gone in a few days but we need to be careful, just in case. Promise me you won’t go out of the back door without me?”
She promised. We drained our glasses and let ourselves out through the front door onto the village main street, just in case she was still hanging around by the back door. I didn’t want to admit it to Carrie but I was genuinely worried about us being jumped.
As I walked her the short distance home, I kept checking we weren’t being followed. Fortunately, following the breakup of her marriage, she has moved closer to me. We now live just a few houses apart on the same street and just a few hundred yards from the shop so it didn’t take too long. When we got to her front door I gave her a goodnight hug.
“See you in the morning, honey.”
“Get some rest and, Ellen, do something about that fat lip – we don’t want to scare the customers.”
Given the number of face slaps I’d taken I suspected the fat lip would be joined by a shiner. I didn’t admit that, I just grinned and said: “It looks like you’re on front of house duty for a couple of days.”
She smiled back and said: “Get on with you.”
As I turned away down her garden path, she gave me an affectionate slap on the bum.
“Hey!” I said, looking back over my shoulder.
“Count yourself lucky it’s just a slap. After tonight’s antics you deserve a damned good spanking. And if you ever do this again I promise you your arse will feel the full force of my riding crop.”
I pouted at her but bit my tongue, I had the feeling she was deadly serious.
She stood in her doorway watching as I made my way down the street to my own cottage and waved as she saw me open my front door.
To be continued…
