'Oh that fucking slut. I would love to scratch the make up from her face.' Audrey snarled as she heard the proposition.
'Excellent' Jayne smiled back. 'I know I can count on you in this affair of honour, not just your own but also mine.'
'Oh don't you worry your ladyship,' Audrey pushed a wave of blonde hair back from her face as she stared with piercing blue eyes at her mistress, full breasts not restrained in corsetry rising and falling. 'I will have my revenge on the fuckin' slut and protect your honour..,you know me as a trusted servant...'
'And a very fine catfighter,' smiled the Lady Thompson.
'Oh yes, that I am,' smiled the twenty year old looking at her own well sharpened nails, not quite so elegant and not laquered like her ladyship's but certainly apt for pulling hair, scratching skin and ripping attire. 'And I am going to scratch that whore's fucking eyes out..'
'Funny that' smiled Jayne arrogantly, 'That's exactly what she said about you' turning towards the door and heading back to the hall.
___________________________________________________
Margaret and Mary were standing waiting in the corridor, both ladies instantly detected a tightening of their maid's bodies as they faced off in the hallway though neither spoke a word to the other despite the fury that directed them to do so. A door stood open beneath the grand stairwell that swept to the upper floor of Lady Margaret's dwelling, Mary was holding a lit lamp in her hand. So this must be the room, Jayne thought to herself as she and her maid approached, heeled feet echoing on carpet and wooden floorboards, mistress staring hard at mistress, maid staring hatefully at maid.
'SO my dear Miss Farningham what is this little nook you have revealed to us?' Jayne locked her gaze with her equal as the two factions drew together.
'This my dear Miss Thompson is my little room...it is here that I undertake all the 'duels' that I arrange in my domain and it seems more than appropriate for our girls to use the place to sort THEIR differences.' Mary sneered at Audrey whose face remained spitefully impassive, eyes just burning into her rivals.
'Splendid, what a delightful conceit. Well lead on,' with a wave of her red nailed hand she indicated the narrow stairwell that led below the house.
A final knowing look from Margaret and she and Mary descended, oak stairs echoing with each footfall as Audrey and Jayne followed.
The short descent led to a small wood panelled chamber, the floor carpeted lightly with an expensive red rug covered in curious yellow designs. Mary instantly moved forward using her lamp to illuminatethe other half dozen lamps placed on brass fittings within the room. 'Here my dear, let me.' Margaret took the lamp and set about concluding the task, 'You must prepare yourself.' A nod of the head indicated the other side of the room where obediently Mary walked. Jayne instantly knew the decorum and bade Audrey move the short distance to the opposite half. Both girls, blonde and dark haired stared maliciously at one another as Margaret finished her circuit and in the glow of lamplight stood to one side lightly drawing Jayne with her. Just the brief touch from Lady Farningham's fingers sent a shuddering thrill up Lady Thompson's spine but she let such pass as she concentrated more upon the battle to come.
Margaret moved into the centre of the chamber, skirts rustling, her stockings, hidden far beneath the multiple layers of green material, hissing. She peered at both twenty year olds as they eyed one another.
'I can see that this is a matter of hate between the two of you that only a war of tooth and nail can resolve. Therefore I propose that this be a simple all out hatefight, no rules, no restrictions, just girl fighting girl. What say you Mary?' she turned to her servant offering a reassuring smile.
'I agree Ma'am' the reply was hastily but respectfully snapped back, rich Irish brogue quite distinct now, a quick glance from the beautiful black haired maid to her mistress before her fiery eyes returned to her rival.
'And..' Margarert started but it was Jayne's voice that took up the sentence- 'And what of you Audrey?'
'Oh I DEFINITELY agree...Ma'am' snarled the blonde smiling at her own mistress before turning her eyes back to her foe, 'Bitch!'
Margaret looked at Lady Jayne with something approaching antagonism but let it pass drawn back into the upcoming conflict by Mary's spitting reply, 'You fucking whore Audrey'. Her duty done Margaret drew back looking at Jayne as she did so and then turning her attention to the two hate filled maids.
Almost as if a cue the two women pulled off their whiite lace caps, black and blonde hair cascading forth about their pretty, slightly made up faces. Walking up and down their halves of the room, sharp nails began to work at their aprons as their boots echoed, snarling at one another across the small space:
'Irish whore!'
'London slut!'
'You fucking hateful witch!'
'You nasty fucking dog!'
'Oh I have waited so long for this you fucking hussy!'
'Not as long as I have you Irish cxnt!' the word rung out loud in the room making both the more refined ladies smile.
'Oh cxnt am I you bitch. Well not as much a cxnt as you are..cxnt!' and with that Mary tore her apron free and threw it to the floor. At exactly the same time Audrey cast hers down and with sizeable breasts rising and falling they faced off ready to fight.
Jayne moved forwards clearly stirred by the vicious antagonism between the twenty year olds which in turn prompted Margaret to once again place a restraining hand upon her sleeve. Lady Thompson instantly stiffened turning to look at her equal, a stare that was met challengingly, it was quite clear that their own fighting agenda was at the forefront of both women's thoughts but again the veneer of civility and the upcoming catfight drove that to the back of their minds in spite of the raised perfectly plucked eyebrows that they both showed to one another. Realising her time would come Jayne stepped back and both beautiful faces turned to the girls who now had hands firmly on hips as their black skirts and stockinged legs moved agitatedly, drawing ever closer towards each other, boots thudding on the carpet.
Now but five feet away the two maids, dressed alike, faced off bodies clearly showing their restraint from launching at each other. Both Jayne and Margaret smiled knowing what was to come as the sureptitiously eyed one another.
'I will tear you bald you cxnt,' snarled Mary, hip thrust out as she shook her dark hair back.
'Oh DO try you Irish whore,' retorted Audrey, her broad London accent a complete contrast to the sing song brogue of the Dublin born girl.
''Oh I fucking will,' yelled her dark haired enemy and with that she launched forwards fingers reaching out to grab at the blonde locks of her rival easily grabbing two fistfuls of Audrey's flowing mane. Audrey in turn was not surprised and instantly she reached up to grab at the dark tresses flying in front of her and anchored her fingers, tugging back, planting her feet to give her the balance reqired to pull.
Neither maid shrieked as they grabbed on, each pulling away from the other, blonde and black hair straining at the roots as they held fast, seconds passing like that before, as one, they began to shake and twist at the handfuls of hair they had, ripping and forcing the other to move their head for fear of losing clumps of hair. No word was spoken although it was not long before silence gave way to pain filled grunts and straining groans. Neither however would give the other the benefit of hearing anything more.
This stalemate of tugged hair went on for over a minute, a minute which saw both noble ladies becoming increasingly excited, the thought of the other now an aside, both were silently willing their maid servant to defeat her hated opponent but it was Mary who broke the muted silence finally twisitgg her head to look at her rival's eyes with a hate filled glare, 'Is that the best you can do you Whitechapel bitch,' she snarled as she suddenly released her left hand and anchored it to the thin layer of make up on Audrey's cheek, digging sharp nails in and scratching downwards towards her neck.
'Ah you fucking sow!' Audrey's accent was now a sharp contrast to her affected maid's voice, broad East London and venomous. 'I'll fucking scratch that tart's make up off of your ugly face,' and true to her word her own hand slid viciously across the Irish girl's scalp and down her cheek, nails pressing in just beneath her left eye and digging in hard.
The two worked at one another's other's cheeks with eyes burning, trying ineffectively to spin each other by yanking at hair and it was quite clear they were letting four years of hate free now as they attacked with vicious abandon, their black maid's skirts flapping wildly with each vindictive jerk. For over two minutes they continued this furious dance across the plush carpet literally spitting words into each others increasingly redenning faces- 'Bitch' 'Whore' 'Slut' 'Tart' 'cxnt'; yet neither gave ground. They seemed anchored to one another until there was a sudden barely audible crack, a yell of pain and the soft sound of ripping hair. The watching noblewomen were initially unsure exactly what happened but in an instant the two maids stumbled apart. Panting and clearly in some pain it did not take Margaret and Jayne long to see what had happened. Both young women stood with full breasts rising and falling, gasping for air, each holding a trophy of blonde or black hair within their clenched fists, a prize cruelly torn from her rival's scalp, but it seemed the reason for their parting was the broken and slightly bloody nail on Audrey's right hand and the cut below Mary's eye. Surprise was clear on Audrey's glowing face as she looked down at her finger, blonde hair a wild mess across her features but it was belittled by the surprise and shock that seized Mary as she slowly raised her hand to her cheek, patted it feeling the wetness of the sheen of sweat and flecks of saliva and then the warm stickiness of the slight flow of blood. This was no serious injury but the sight of the red liquid on her fingertips sent a new wave of hatred and bitterness through her. Margaret almost laughed with the thrill of seeing the look on her servant's face, like that of an Irish banshee her eyes widened and an awful scream came from her throat as she suddenly cast aside her fistful of blonde locks and plunged headlong at the London girl. 'You bloody WHORE!' Audrey ever ready to fight did not however expect the sudden headlong rush that came towards her and the next thing she knew she was being propelled towards the wall by an oncoming fury of black hair, black dress and boots. The breath thudded from her chest as she hit the wooden panels feeling grasping hands pressing her wrists against the wall, the weight of the Irish girl pressing agaisnt her, the sensation of her legs being pushed by Mary's and he pneumatic impact of their breasts swelling together. Audrey instantly fought back trying to use the wall for leverage shaking her head from side to side as Mary lunged at her panting and snarling, 'How would you like it you trollop?!' The blonde was certain that her rival was trying to bite at her cheek. The imagined pain of such an attack stirred Audrey on all the more, fueling the resentment that had instigated this catfight and with a jerk she pulled her left wrist free, reaching behind to anchor her fingers upon the back of her rival's dress, tufts of dark hair falling from where she still had hold of them. Mary did not try to renew the pin instead bringing her hand once more to the side of Audrey's face and digging nails in again. drawing it down the blonde's pretty white neck leaving angry vicious marks. As pain shot through her body Audrey twisted and turned her wrist her fingers locking with Mary's, arms stretching and twisting in a test of strength that seemed to push their breasts tighter towards one another whilst her other hand clenched with increased desperation into the fistful of material on the maid's attire to the point where she heard the sudden tell tale rip of a seam. This seemed to stir Mary a little whose own hand had now reached the white lace collar of Audrey's dress leaving cruel red marks on soft skin in her wake; 'If you rip mine I'll shred yours,' she snorted with no sense of modesty, merely another level of angry challange.
'Fine you cxnt, I'll beat you in the fucking nude if needs be,' and with that Audrey pulled back with all the gusto she could, driving her body forward against Mary's feeling the grim satisfaction of material tearing and more than one seam splitting.
'You hussy!' Mary snorted back retorting in kind by drawing back and pulling down the collar she held so tenaciously onto There was a ripping sound and the popping of buttons as Audrey's soft white undershirt was revealed and a more clear impression of the London girls rounded breasts was finally offered. It was almost by consent that the warring left and right hand that had been against the wall let go of each other and began to reach down to join this mutual destruction of clothes as though it seemed to add to the humiliation of the fight.
Jayne could barely contain her glee at how her little hellcat was acquitting herself, her own black and red fan swaying vigorously in her hand as she stared at the two girls ripping and shredding seams of black material and white lace lost in concentration as how best to ruin the other's attire and continuing to let their feelings for one another be known in gasped curses. Illuminated by the lamps that burnt either side of them she could see that there was a lot of similarity in their bodies and that they were clearly well matched for the fight. Just as, she felt, she and Mary's mistress were, a thought that drew her attention briefly to the Lady Farningham. As she turned slightly to look at her it was quite clear that Margaret had similar thoughts of her own as her eyes were flicking from the warring maids back to the redhead, her green fan moving slowly in her black nailed fingers.
'Your girl fights well,' Jayne turned back to the struggle addressing Margaret over her shoulder taking in the sight of the two tearing great lengths of skirt atwain. They were now surrounded in tatters of black material and lace standing in their underskirts, black and blonde hair glowing in the light about their perspiring faces.
'As does yours.' Margaret smiled back. 'Although there is of course a significant difference between these street girls and a true lady catfighter my dear,' her voice was low but strikingly audible above the panting, ripping, slapping and cursing.
'Oh I couldn't agree more,' Jayne felt her stomach leap once again, with the heat and the senses stirred by the fight taking place she was becoming increasingly desirous to raise claws herself, increasingly desirous to catfight, 'As I am sure we will see in the fullness of time.'
A smile crept across Margaret's face, no more words need be spoken, and raising her head a little higher on her slender neck she looked intently once more at the girls. They had come together in a grapple, high booted heels thudding on the carpet with arms locked around each others bodies, heads pressed into the opponent's shoulder, blonde hair intermingled with dark. It was clear both were using this hatefilled hug as opportunity to compensate for the fevered exertions of clothes tearing as neither seemed to be inflicting much pain on the other. It took some seconds for both noblewomen to realise that this was not simply a delaying tactic and that in fact there was another agenda behind this clutch. It was a subtle movement but definite with both women awkwardly shoving their full breasts still clothed in undershirt at one another, accompanied by a mutual gasp as they impacted. This was certainly not a coincidence as both women began to adjust their positioning to better allow their chests to strike one another. Margaret had heard of this curious technique of breastfighting, or titfighting as the dock girls called it, though it was not something she herself had pursued in any way preferring to use her nails as weapons against another women's chest rather than her own modest bosom. Both of these girls wer well endowed enough for there to be some greater significance in this clash but Margaret could not help but wonder what end it would serve. Her question was partly answered by the new conversation emerging from the entwined pair.
'Get your filthy udders away from me,' Mary's Irish brogue gasped contemptuously into her opponents ear as she closed her eyes with the next impact of their chests.
'Oh, scared my tits are better than yours?' Audrey spat back herself gasping into a mat of black hair about Mary's ear.
'Your fat tits are nothing more than the saggy boobs of a worn our bitch!'
'My girls can outfight yours any day!'
'That will never happen!' and with that the two women simultaneously slammed forwards, sliding their hands behind backs so they now held each other in a mutual bearhug, their bodies pressing together. Breasts mushroomed between the two of them pushing at the white material of their undergarments eyes boring into one another, faces glowing with sweat, spit, tears and blood. Margaret could tell Jayne was as intigued by this sight as she was. This was not a clash based on inflicting pain, this was another level of conflcit entirely, another way of humiliating the other women and asserting dominance. Fascinatedly she watched as the two stood rigidly in the corner of the room, squeezing and thumping their breasts against each other eyes locked, neither daring to blink let alone look away. And still the hate filled words carried on:
'Uhh..you man stealing whore'
'Irish hussy..oh'
'Fuckin' cockney slut..uhhh'
'Saggy titted witch!'
'Fat chested cxnt!'
'You dirty fucking bitch!'
The venom seemed to be intensifying with each clash of their chests and Jayne who had indeed been as interested as Margaret in this battle thrilled with every foul word spat at the rival, particularly that word 'cxnt' one that carried with it so much spite and seemed so apt for such a hate filled fight. She continued to watch as the two switched between battering their breasts against each other and holding tight in embraces that threatened to burst open their undergarments and spill both sets of clearly comely breasts forth. It seemed that the fighting girls sensed this as Audrey suddenly paused just as Mary thrust forward once more, 'Come on you fucking hussy' she panted, 'Get your girls out I want to see them, I dare you to bear your titties, I want to fight you woman to woman, tit to tit..or are you too cowardly you slag!.'
'I SO agree.' Mary spat back letting go of her foe for a moment as she began to unbutton the front of her underwear. Audrey seemed to have no interest in such decorum and with a rapid, frenzied move she tore at the front of her own underwear ripping it down as if enjoying the liberation of freeing her breasts. Not to be outdone Mary stared hard through the tangle of black hair and then she herself ripped downwards proudly thrusting her womanly breasts forwards. As the noble ladies had suspected both girls had fine, firm chests, Audrey's slightly more pale than that of her opponent with her pink nipples pointing directly across at Mary's swollen and erect browner nipples. Both women eyed the others mammaries, depsite their previous battles they had never faced off with such nakedness before and when they fought in their teens their bodies were so much less developed than the more womanly forms they possessed now.
'Dog's tits!' spat Audrey contemptuosuly, saliva lightly spattering the darker skin of her rival.
'Fucking cow's udders!' her face showing equal contempt, Mary literally spat back a more noticeable spatter of saliva on pale breastflesh.
'More than a match for those rotten titties,' Audrey retorted, hands going to her hips, underskirt rustling as the two girls began to circle each other, heels a chaotic mingling of noise as they walked across the floor.
'Oh fuck you you blonde London whore'
'No fuck you you Irish slut!' A pause and then with eyes locked they moved forwards and again began to batter their breasts one against the other, soft flesh pancaking and mushrooming as nipples stabbed, pink versus brown, both girls now exchanging glances from each others eyes down to the warring cleavages which glistened in sweat and spatters of spit. Again and again the breasts slammed together and in both Jayne and Margaret's opinion this seemed to be getting nowhere but it was quite clear this was not about the nipples which rasped and raked and the flesh that squeezed against each other, it was the exchanged looks, the stares that would punctuate each thrust of their 'girls', as both the combatants called them. Yet despite some minutes of now silent struggling it seemed neither could compel the other to back down which in turn seemed to stoke the fire more and more within their bodies driving them to the furious temper that could only lead to claws being raised once more. Both girls noticed the others hands slowly sliding from hips as panting and grunting they rammed breast against breast, both sensed the renewing of more primal hostilities and then with a sudden movement the blonde lunged her open hands towards her rival's chest. Instantly Mary raised her talons and batted the attack away. There followed a garppling of hands, each maid eyeing the other as fingers twisted and coiled, Mary gritting her pretty white teeth, Audrey biting her pink painted lower lip as silently their fingers battled and then they pulled free of each other. It was clear that new lines had been drawn up and with that both sets of hands instantly plunged forwards again, this time not at each other but towards the rival breasts that but a minute before had been clashing together. It was clear from both girls' expressions that they were a little tired but that would be no excuse for terminating this war and sharp short nails dug deep into handfuls of flesh, nipples flattened by palms as once again, with tears forming in eyes and lips tightly drawn shut so as to avoid the indignity of a scream, the two began to knead and maul, twisting and squeezing. This was more like it Margaret thought and could see by the gleeful expression on Jayne's face and the fact that she held her fan now rapt to attention that her rival thought the same. The fight between the two maids seemed to fade into the distance a little as Margaret found her eyes drawn towards the tight corseted breasts of Lady Jayne, wondering if they were of the same modest size as hers or whether more sizeable assets were bound within and speculating when her own hands would be probing and squeezing just as the maids were so doing at this moment. Again she noted that Miss Thomspon was clearly aware of her gaze, her own eyes flicking from her made up face, 'Do you see something you like my lady?' she smiled.
