MSE 3: Takanakuy.Takanakuy - the word means “to hit each other” in Quechua, the Indigenous language spoken in the Peruvian Andes. It is a tradition specific to Peru’s remote Chumbivilcas Province. Small rural communities high in the Andes, many of which do not have regular access to law enforcement to resolve disputes, settle their scores once a year in a public arena, with their fists.
The ultimate aim is to begin the new year in peace. For this reason, every fight begins and ends with a hug. Y'see I did a bit of research.
Now since MSE, the annual ceremony has achieved an almost mythic status. Women come from all over the world - to fight. The festival's changed a bit with all the tourist money, but y'know ancient traditions versus loadsamoney, which would you pick?
It's especially popular with the 'pinnies'. Y'know the people who wear a badge and every time they see someone else wearing the same badge they must fight. For Fuck's sake! I used to do a summer job with a 'pinnie', forever coming in late and covered in bruises. Every time the boss pointed out she was here to work, she'd bleat on about her 'religious freedom', twat! You have to fight for something you believe in, true, but for no fucking reason? Give me a break! I mean, I get it, as my mom said, in the ‘before times’ they were brave individuals who paved the way for the way we live now. But now they just seem like weird twats.
We'd flown down to Peru to board The Christobel our ship. It was in the middle of loading supplies, but things had gone back a bit as they were in the middle of fixing a big engine fault. I'd done all the introductions and gone around the ship. So, while we were in Peru for longer than expected, Captain Sandy suggested the little trip.
"So, are you going to Santa Tomas with the rest of us girls?" Captain Sandy asked.
"Maybe just watch"
"How many fights have you had?"
"Just two, Prom night and the one to be the intern here."
"Obviously"
"Obviously?"
Sandy smiled "They do it every year".
"I didn't know... "
"Yeah every year they get the two best students to battle it out to see who gets to go on the trip"
"Every year?"
"Unless someone forfeits, every year."
"Never knew..."
"Yeah, they say it selects the toughest most determined candidate, and…it prepares you for your job interviews."
Shit, I never thought beyond the degree. Job interviews, well what did you expect? That they'd just sit you down in a chair and just ask inane questions? I thought about what I had been through for this internship, what would I have to go through for a well-paying job?
"Anyway, there was the Prom night challenge as well..."
"So only two? Would you like to take part? I think you could do with the practice."
I shrugged my shoulders. I could not see why I would want to beat up a complete stranger.
Sandy smiled "I get it, kids. Pre-MSE you asserted your individuality by fighting, now that you can fight as much as you want, you assert your individuality by not fighting".
"I guess... " A bit glib and pat I thought but maybe she had a point.
"Anyway, just come down with us. Have a few beers and watch the entertainment".
So, me, Captain Sandy and four others, Sam, Izzy, Debs and Rachel, all older than me by a few years were standing in a bar having a and just talking, Sandy had gone for the beers. The bar we were in had what most days would have been a dancefloor. Tonight, it's the fight area, covered in matting. According to Sandy, you could just pick a fight with whoever you wanted, let the MC know and he'll give you a time slot.
At the moment, the previous fight had finished, a British and a German girl, the next one wasn't due to start for half an hour, another fucking Brit (where are they all coming from?) and a Yank. We just stood relaxing by the bar listening to shifty 80’s music on the jukebox so much twee synthesizer music, it hurts my brain aaarrrr!
Then the shifty 80’s music stopped, and they played the fucking Boss.
"Born down in a dead man's town
The first kick I took was when I hit the ground"
I jumped up and down and pointed at my chest. "I've got the shirt! " I pointed at my chest excitedly.
I was just wearing an old T-shirt from the ‘before times’ my Dad had given me and a pair of denim shorts and sneakers. The picture on the shirt was the 'Born in the U.S.A.' album cover. It might have been worth something if it wasn't in such bad condition my Dad gave it to me as rough clothes when I was on board the ship. He did love Bruce, me and sis used to scream with delight when we'd get on the motorway, and he'd rev up to seventy with the intro to 'Born to Run' booming out.
"End up like a dog that's been beat too much
'Til you spend half your life just to cover it up, now
Born in the U.S.A.
[/i](I was fist-pumping now).
I was born in the U.S.A.
(Fist pumping and jumping up In the air, I used to do that on my bed at home).
I
was born in the U.S.A.
[/i](No, I wasn't drunk yet; I just loved the fuckling song and after all that twee shit it came as a breath of fresh air).
Born in the U.S.A., nowI"
"Here's your drink." Sandy interrupted, handing me a glass of beer.
"Bruce Springsteen, a bit geriatric for you isn't it?" Izzy said.
"It's all about the stupidity of wars in the 'before times'. It's a clever song he's singing "Born in the U.S.A., Born in the U.S.A." I pumped my arms, " You think he's proud but listen to his words he's not".
Suddenly I felt a massive shove,.it could have been a kick. Me and my drink flew into empty space where the crowd had been, just seconds ago, parting like the Red Sea with practiced ease, almost like they were used to it. I fell to the floor, sitting in a pool of beer.
"Gringa Puto!"
I looked up and saw a pretty Peruvian girl, I know this because of her skin colour but mainly because her T-shirt was the Peruvian flag. She had shoulder-length black hair, worn loose. Similar build to me and the same age, I noticed that immediately because there couldn't have been many of us that young, I think it was just us. She beckoned me towards her as she angrily removed her earrings and handed them to someone behind her.
"Luchar!" I heard someone in the crowd call out. Looked like Miss Peru wanted to beat me up, there was no point in talking to her as she didn't speak English, I could either take it or fight back, and I chose the latter! Never start a fight but always finish it.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, it was Sandy.
"You got this, Cath?"
Angrily I took off the only jewelry I wore, which was my watch and handed it to Sandy. I could feel my blood boiling if Miss fucking Peru wants a fight, she's gonna get it.
"I got this," I said.
"Fucking dago whore!" I remembered it from a movie I saw. Blank looks, 'course nobody speaks English.
She swung a kick at me. I grabbed her foot and used it to swing her by the leg, her back slammed into the bar with a thud, sending barstools flying. A beer on the counter tipped over, soaking her, she looked at her soaked clothes fuming. She stood up, fists raised.
I launched myself after her, straight into a punch to the jaw which stopped me in my tracks. Then a punch to the stomach, I gasped, that cow knew how to punch. I dived into her and drove her back into the jukebox, the shitty 80’s music screeched to a halt.
I grabbed her hair with my left hand, banging her head into the jukebox. With my right I punched, getting her cheek and blooding her lip, I swung again, and her eye started to turn. I punched again, but she blocked it, grabbing my hand she pulled me towards her and slammed a punch with her other hand straight into my face.
"JESUSFUCKINGCHRIST!"
I screamed out as I felt the pain and the blood burst from my nose.
The bitch pulled my hair and pulled me off to her side. I stumbled away from the jukebox. We were facing each other now.
"Puta!"
"Dago!"
I swung at her, She ducked and fired a shot into my belly. I kicked out, tangling her legs, We fell to the wooden floor I was on top, I grabbed her hair trying to bang her head into the solid floor, she tried to stiffen her neck, but I got a few bangs in, she yelped each time her head hit the floor. She loped around a punch hitting me in the stomach again. I kicked her legs with mine, She kicked back. I grabbed her head pulling it down firing punches up into her head and breasts, She pulled my head back by the hair and fired punches into my belly and torso.
Our legs were having a separate battle, kicking out and trying to trip each other. Eventually, it worked and we fell to the hard wooden floor, I realised why everyone used matting. We rolled out arms scrambling at each other, we were just grabbing anything we could get our hands on, she pulled my hair, and it felt like it was on fire, she held my head lining it up for a punch, and she swung a fist into the side of my head. It hit hard, my head swinging to the side. God that girl could punch.
Then she smirked a look of triumph in her eyes, and suddenly I realised, I was trapped, the bitch had me in a leg lock. Well, Sandy later informed me it was an Achilles lock. The bitch had her forearm, the one she hadn't punched me with, the fucking bony part of it, into the Achilles tendon (it links the calf and the tendon, no I didn’t know there was one, I fucking do now!) while leveraging my foot and leg over the forearm serving as a fulcrum. I screamed.
"Rendirse!" she hissed
She tugged again. I screamed again.
"Rendirse!" she hissed again.
"Fuck you, turd!" I felt tears in my eyes, but I was not going to give in to this kung-fu shit. I had a plan, and it was going to hurt – her.
My hands shot out straight into her tits, even though she was wearing a T-shirt and bra I could still feel myself flattening them. I squeezed hard while trying to tear them off as I held them in a vice-like grip.
She moaned, her free hand going for mine, trying to desperately prise it away.
She tugged again, but not as hard this time.
"Rendirse!" but this was more of a plea than a demand.
The little turd's grip had loosened, and I moved in with my other hand. I held both of her tits now and I squeezed even harder. A grin spread across my face, could I get a moan?
She moaned I could see the tears filling her eyes. Good. I got a moan, could I get a sob as well? Her leg lock was all forgotten now. I could have escaped but I didn't want to now I was having too much fun. I threw in a twist.
"Puta Madre" She sobbed.
I got a sob!
Her hand groped for my chin, trying to push it back I started trying to bite her fingers, it made the point, no chance whore.
I took the opportunity to knee her in the crotch and she started choking on her sobs.
Out of nowhere, her right fist crashed into the side of my head. My death grip on her boobs loosened and she kicked at my body, then with her other foot, in a last desperate gasp to stave off defeat, fired a shot with her foot straight into my crotch.
Fuck it hurt.
I gasped out, pain coursing through my body. My hands reached for my crotch as I fell over to my side, then my back.
We both lay there on our backs moaning. Me trying to soothe my crotch, her trying to soothe the pain in both her breasts and crotch.
The crowd were encouraging us to continue.
"Joderla Maria!"
"Finish her off Cathy!"
Slowly we rose on our hands and knees, never taking our eyes off each other. Jesus, I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my entire body, God I was hyped. I could see why the pinnies got off on it. God what a rush.
"Te voy a joder!" She gasped on unsteady feet.
"Whatever, you stupid whore". I gasped as I staggered.
Fuck I wish I knew Spanish. How can you insult someone if they don't speak the language? I thought about making some joke about the result of the Kathy Jones/Florencia Cazador fight for Gibraltar, but this is Peru, who gives a shit about Gibraltar here? It's not easy to be racially offensive sometimes.
We circled on our hands and knees. My body was covered in sweat and bruises, my hair must have looked mad, my T-shirt missing an arm flapping half on half off, showing my bra to the entire world. Not that Miss Peru looked any better at least the beer kept her hair stuck to her head. The crowd were calling out to us to finish each other off as though we needed any encouragement. We didn't.
We launched into each other, both our hands interlocked, as we rose to our feet, grasping each other as We tried to move each other back. I would grunt and then manage to move her back a few steps, then she would grunt and move me back. We were stalemated.
Letting go of one of her hands I reached out towards her breasts. She squealed and started moving back. I grinned evilly at her, making clutching gestures, you could see the fear on her face, she hadn't forgotten her last mauling.
Suddenly she pulled me towards her, slamming her knee into my gut. My hands clutched my belly as I staggered back. Then I charged. My head buried itself into her belly, I could hear the air leaving her lungs as a slow rasping gasp. I was forcing her back into one of the tables. Her legs hit the tables and her back bent back. I jumped on top of her aiming to get a few slaps in. Her head flew from side to side, until
"Crash!"
The table collapsed; we fell to the floor. But I was still on top I fired more slaps. Suddenly her legs hooked under my shoulders, and she slammed me onto my back, She sat up and grabbed my T-shirt with one hand and slapped with the other, forehand, backhand. She threw me to the floor and then picked me up by the T-shirt again, forehand, backhand.
Before she could throw me down again, I reared up throwing my head into her face. She screamed, her hands going to her face, bad nosebleed you got there, bitch.
She reached for my hair and pulled me off, and we rolled on the floor pulling hair. She was a skilled fighter, I had to keep her from using her skills, to keep her hair pulling. I yanked hard on her head, twisting her neck to the sides, and some strands of her hair came out. Sweet. I fired a slap into the side of her face, rocking it to the side. She was going for the two-handed hair grab, pulling me back by the neck. Back and forth we rolled across the floor, through the dirt, spilt beer, and popcorn.
Her hands and legs were pulling and pushing at me and suddenly I was face down, she was lying on my back, her entire body weight pressing down. Then, her arm was around my neck pulling my head back, she squeezed, shit, I reached behind, trying to reach for her face, her hair. Fuck anything. She was cackling. My vision was startling to get blurry as my lungs burned. Panic was starting to trip me as I tried to escape the hold, but I couldn't, her grip on my neck was like iron.
"Cono" she mocked.
"Fucking whore!" I gasped, but too late I realised that I shouldn't have wasted the oxygen. Shit. I was starting to feel groggy. The bitch had me I couldn’t escape, I was fucked. My hands scrambled over her body trying to get something, anything.
Fuck I n
G
W
h
O
r
e
…
When I came to, I was still lying with my face on the floor. I heard Miss Peru walking around accepting the cheers of the crowd. She saw me try to rise, then walked towards me. My body tensed for another attack, but she pulled me up with her hands. Then she hugged me, and the crowd all cheered. I felt slaps of congratulations on my back. A beer appeared in my hand.
I saw a flash; Sandy got a snap. She smiled giving me a thumbs up.
“Luchas bien, Americana! " Miss Peru, Maria said.
“She’s saying you fight good, American!". Sandy helpfully supplied a translation.
Realising She had found a translator, Miss Peru carried on "She has always hated the way you Americans treated her country in the past, but now that hatred has been purged."
American? Oh fuck.
We learnt a lot about the British Empire in the ‘before times.? We fucked a lot of countries, but South America was the ONE continent we didn't fuck in the silent war. It was ALL the yanks. It wasn't our fucking fault! Then I thought of my Bruce Springsteen shirt. Did she know it wasn't a pro-USA song? Course not she doesn't speak English. Shit. Doesn't anybody on this fucking continent get Irony?
Still breathing hard I asked the question.
"Don't you know I'm English?".
Sandy was about to say something.
Behind me, I heard a voice.
"Try saying, ‘No soy Americano, soy Inglés...’ "
"...How's it going Titkiller? "
I turned around startled, my mouth open in shock.
What the fucking fuck, Sharon-Fucking-Potter!
***
Bloody hell, Cathy-Bloody-Browne!
I had wondered who had started the impromptu scrap. You’re not supposed to do it, but the MC probably just went ‘Stuff it, it's Takanakuy’ and the crowd loved it, Imagine my surprise when I saw it was Mog!
“What on earth are you doing here?”
I had no idea Mog would be here, as far as I knew she was off on her sailing boat, sightseeing around Antarctica and doing her science stuff. What was she doing in a bar in Peru? We hadn’t been as close as we used to be after Cathy had made some disparaging words about Tony after her girlfriend Mandy had beaten me up. I don’t remember what, but knowing Mog it probably began with the letter F. Angie once joked she was so full of Fucks because she wasn’t getting any from Derek. Once I stopped giggling I told Angie how inappropriate that was.
"The boat's in for repairs we took a trip out to see Takanakuy. And you?" She asked.
"I'm here with Angela for Takanakuy. Are you okay? I saw what she did to you". I asked.
"I've had better days, but I'll live".
"Y'see what you did wrong was not show your tits. Every time you show your tits you win"
Cathy smiled. 'Are you going to get a dance partner?" No need to ask why I'm here then.
"A blonde yank wannabe pinnie," I said, trying to sound as casual as possible.
She looked at me with a look of genuine love and concern.
“Fuck, You’re the one on next?”
I nodded.
“Good Luck Shaz, you deserve it.”
My name's Sharon Potter, a history student, and I'm about to have my second fight.
My first fight didn't go too well.
I hadn't forgotten Mandy Parker and that night of the prom tryouts. We fought over her boyfriend; it didn't go well for me. I got beaten up without even landing a blow and then...I wet myself in front of the entire pigging school. Then I had to spend the entire ride home in soggy, cold trunks. O felt so ashamed when I saw Mum and Dad. After a couple of weeks of sobbing, I decided I would not go straight to University, I couldn't face it. I would take a year's sabbatical; I needed some time to figure out my life.
I heard Tony turned out to be no good. He took up with another girl shortly after we left school. Mandy challenged the new girl, they had it out in a pub car park. I was so happy to hear that Mandy got pulverized. I would have paid good money to see that.
But it never erased the shame I felt when I felt the contents of my bladder leaving my body. And that damp, shameful ride home.
This is where Angela comes in.
Angela's parents were rather wealthy, and she was a big fight fan, I think she wanted to be a professional champion. Unfortunately. due to the way the school year is arranged, she was too young to be in the proms tryouts. So, for her eighteenth birthday, her parents paid for the flights and hotels to go see Takanakuy as a birthday present to make up. They gladly paid for me to go along with her, things have changed under the MSE but not so much that a teenage girl could/should travel to a far-off foreign country by herself. And her parents trusted me. So, I got a free foreign holiday on my sabbatical year. To prepare I had taken some fitness classes and some fight lessons. I knew I needed to heal the damage that my fight with Mandy had done to me. I just had to find the courage.
Back to 15 minutes ago, Angela had just finished a tough fight with some German girl, she had won, and she was wired.
"Hey, we've got to find you someone".
I looked over to the loud American girl, Gob Almighty, who throughout Angela's fight with the German had given a loud running commentary on what each fighter was doing wrong and how she would do it better. She was the same age as me, with shoulder-length blonde hair, pretty sure out of a bottle, and a similar build to me also she was the spitting image of Mandy Bloody Parker but maybe bigger breasts, large I would say, I'm medium large. I know you want a number like 36D, but bog off I'm not a number, I'm a human being. She was wearing a tasteful (not!) red bikini top and a skirt, well wide belt, which displayed her red knickers. Oh, and to complete the matching cheap tart ensemble she had red high-heeled f@#k-me shoes and gawd she was loud, did I mention that? I think she had noticed how I'd looked at her during the fight. At one point I thought she mouthed the C-word at me.
Angela followed my gaze.
"Oh, the armchair fighter? How does it go? ‘It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing’. Y'know she's the spit of..."
"I know", I said perhaps a bit too bitterly.
"Then ask her".
I felt awkward, it was like asking a boy out at the school disco. What are you supposed to do; just walk up and ask "Wanna fight?" What if she says no?
From where she was I and the rest of the bar could hear her going on about how she would earn her Cat-Pin at this festival. Then I saw her point at me.
Then she started walking towards me. My heart started thumping.
THIS IS IT! THIS IS IT! THIS IS IT!"Hey, you! Who are you fucking looking at?" She shouted.
"Who me? Foghorn"
(That’s it, act hard, act hard) "Yeah, hey are you a limey?"
"Yes What of it?"
"Do they all have as bad teeth as yours?"
"Bog off! You sceptics..."
"Sceptics?"
"Yeah it's rhyming slang; sceptic tanks – yanks. You know what a sceptic tank is don’t you?".
I had my arms crossed like I was explaining to a small child. Well, I was. Christ, it felt like my heart was going to burst through my chest.
"Are you looking for a fight?"
"It looks like I've found one..."
"...smelly sceptic".
"Yes, you have. And I’ll fix your teeth for free." she gestured to the MC.
"Next?" She enquired.
The MC gave the thumbs up. (Bloody hell I’ve done it!)
"I’ll fix your teeth soon, Limey.”
"Sure sceptic".
I felt my heart thumping like a bass drum as I felt a hand on my shoulder, it was Angela.
"You okay? I can hear you breathing from here".
I touched her hand. "I've got to do this."
"I just thought after last time..."
"Especially after last time".
It was time.
I walked into the fight area, that blonde, Shelly, was doing a series of stretches, She had removed her fuck-me shoes. I could feel the fearanticipationexcitement.
Please, PleaseGod, don't let it go like last time. Bugger it, I was wearing panty liners under my black cycle shorts. Bloody geriatric panty liners! But I needed to face this. You know that saying 'Courage is not about having any fear, but having the fear and doing the right thing'? I wrapped that around me like a safety blanket, as I walked out to meet her.
"Hello limey" she cooed.
"Sceptic" I responded cooly. She scowled at the word that must have looked it up in her one book. I was doing it; I was facing my fear.
I held my fists up in front of my face like I'd been taught. I saw Cathy turn to Angela, looked like she murmured "Mandy Parker", Angela nodded.
I'mReady I'mReady I'mReady.Shelly smiled at me and licked her lips. I just tried to stay focused.
I'mReady I'mReady I'm...THUMP!
Shelly connected with a solid right to my chin which sent me stumbling backwards, I tripped falling to the floor.
Gobby blew proudly on her right fist, smiling.
"Hey Limey, meet Rocky. He's gonna fix your teeth.”
I slammed the floor in anger. No, she was not going to beat me so easily. I rose raising my fists again.
Smiling, Shelly landed a left to my jaw and then a powerful shot to my belly.
Bloody Hell!
I gasped, falling to my knees. As I was going down, I reached out desperately to grab hold of something to hold myself up and found her bikini, ripping it. Her breasts popped into view and the crowd cheered.
Enraged by her bared breasts, Shelly snarled.
"Cheap whore"
She grabbed my blonde hair with one hand and my sports bra with the other and yanked me to my feet. The sports bra stretched, the fabric digging into my flesh. Just to rub it in she yanked the bra over my breasts, baring my breasts. Instinctively I covered them, leaving me defenseless as Shelly connected with a left-right combination that sent me hurtling away.
As I stood dazed Shelly turned to the crowd and started crowing, I stood there just trying to steady myself, I had to do something I was getting pounded. I could see the looks of concern on Cathy and Angela's faces. No, I would not lose without firing a single shot like I did last time.
NO!
Shelly turned her attention to me again and moved in to finish me off. As she rushed in, I jumped forward leading with my knee square into her belly.
Gotcha!
The force of the blow forced her to bend at the waist allowing me to straighten her up with an uppercut, I followed up with a couple of blasts to each side of Shelly's head, left, and right, that sent her tumbling to the floor.
I was still in the fight dammit! I saw the looks on my friend's face, relieved.
As she got up onto her hands and feet I launched a field goal kick into her belly. She gasped, rolling on the floor, and clutching her belly.
I leapt on Shelly, sitting on her chest with my knees on her arms, see what I'd learned, and upload a series of punches; left breast, right breast, it was like punching a pillow, belly, belly. Shelly was able to bring her unsecured legs up, placing them in front of my shoulders and forcing me backwards and off her.
Shelly was the first to her feet and once again.
"Fucking shit!"
She grabbed a handful of my hair then brought me up with one hand and delivered two quick blasts to my belly, I gasped as I felt my belly cramping.
"Ugh."
An uppercut and solid right from "Rocky" and I was sent tumbling to the hard floor. Stunned for a couple of seconds, I tried to get up only to have Shelly on me hitting me with two more solid shots to the body.
The only thing that kept me going was that I never wanted to go through another loss. Shelly was grinning, she thought she had the fight won. She swung her fist ready to knock me out. I bloody well showed that I had learnt a thing or two from my fight classes. I saw the telegraphed punch that the yank was about to toss, blocked it and delivered my own crushing blow to Shelly's soft belly. Then another, I loved the way my fist sank into her gut, then I put my hand on her chin raising it, I swung my right hand down. Ha! That sent Shelly stumbling back, groaning.
I backed away, motioning to Shelly to come and get some more.
"Not the pushover you thought I was, eh Yank!"
I was eager to get some payback. As Shelly moved forward, I stepped in to throw a punch, but I threw it too wildly and Shelly ducked under it and then fired two quick punches that sent me back.
We exchanged a couple of punches, first I hit Shelly with a glancing blow with Shelly returning with a more solid shot that forced me back a step or two.
I flew at Shelly in a rage, and without thinking I swung wildly, first missing with a right and then Shelly blocked my attempt at a left she quickly countered with a hard punch to my belly, then straightened me up with a sharp right hand and then plastered me with a couple of left-right combinations.
I hardly knew what hit me as I tumbled and stumbled backwards. Shelly was quick to pounce and wanted some torture, immediately going for my nipples. With a nipple in each hand, she had me screaming in agony, as she twisted and pulled. My screams turned to growls as I reached up for her nipples. Taking each one in a firm grip I pulled her breasts down hard, Like I wanted to get them to her knees, then I pulled them out sideways. I watched how Cathy destroyed Lucy and I had been taking notes—her turn to scream.
We continued this for what must have been 20-30 seconds of torture, it seemed a lot longer. She released my nipples; I won I thought just as.
“SMACK!.”
She grabbed the back of my head and slammed her meaty breasts straight into my face. She was trying to smother me with her massive tits in the hope of achieving a really embarrassing coup de grace. I struggled under the weight and size of Shelly's big boobs.
I realized she had to do something, or I would suffer the humiliation of not only losing to Shelly but losing like this. So, out of desperation, I chomped down on Shelly's left tit, producing a painful howl from the gobby slut. But I wasn't done yet hungrily I went for the nipple and chewed. I could see the fear in her eyes.
Screaming blue murder the slut grabbed my hair with both hands, I tried to hang on, I wanted to punish her a bit longer, but then she started hysterically punching my head. I pushed the tart off me. Backing off, she stood there examining her breasts for damage, She was sobbing, good. I stood on bent knees trying to get air into my lungs. We just stood there gasping, no sound just her sobs and my gasps. I was in a bad way, and I hurt, but I wasn't dead yet and I hurt her, badly. The thought came into my brain, if I can hurt her I can beat her. I smiled crazily.
"Fucking animal" she cursed.
"Miss foghorn sore?” I wiped my imaginary years away.
Cursing, Shelly grabbed a handful of my hair in an attempt to yank me around. I, however, had other thoughts and planted two quick punches to her stomach. I then jumped to my feet and caught Shelly with an uppercut. As Shelly staggered backwards, I went on the offensive. With her guard down, Shelly was defenseless, and I got her with a powerful left hand to the side of the head that sent her staggering. Grinning I continued my assault with three or four more punches to the body. Shelly had no answer and slid down to her knees moaning.
Stupidly, rather than going for the finishing blow with Shelly, I backed away allowing her to get to her feet. Silly me, I charged Shelly, telegraphing my punch. Shelly had enough savvy to read the punch and block it. My next punch was wild, missing its target. Shelly then caught me with a shot to the side of my body and then rocked me with her bloody 'Rocky' hand. Off balance, I stumbled backwards before catching one more blow from Shelly, which sent me reeling.
Shelly then grabbed my arm pulled me up and attempted to sling me across the floor. I tripped her, sending Shelly crashing to the floor.
I got you!
I jumped on her back, grabbing both arms I twisted hard. She screamed, I twisted harder, I didn't want her using her arms while I went for stage two.
Iwasbloodywinning! Iwasbloodywinning!I hauled her up then I spun her around and impaled her with an uppercut to her stomach, as I sank my fist in. Her eyes opened like saucers; her mouth open as I forced all the air out of Shelly's body, she visibly deflated like a burst tire.
I shoved her back and she hung there.
"No" I swung a right to her face.
"Catpin" I swung a left to her face.
"For" I swung a right straight into her right breast, I put all my weight behind it. She moaned rather piteously. This was it; I'd done it.
"You" I swung a left cross into her other breast and sweat flew in a spray. Her eyes were glazed over, they had a dull faraway look. Again, I held Her by the chin, her mouth was open, and some drool dripped onto my hand, yuck!
"Today" A final left cross to her chin. She crumpled to her knees like so much dead weight.
She looked up at me, her eyes glassy. Her head was bobbing, and blood dropped from her mouth. I lifted her head by the hair. I'd done it. All that was left was to cross the Ts and dot the Is.
"Your fucking teeth suck!" She said, well mumbled, didn't matter, I didn't care, she couldn't stop what was coming. I'd bloody won.
"Potty mouth!". To give her credit she was still a gobby cow.
A knee to her face, a mixture of salvia and blood and maybe teeth, I hope there were teeth, flew from her mouth. She fell onto her back, her arms and legs splayed out in an untidy and a dollop of drool hung from her gaping mouth. Lights out.
I stood there gasping, my body shiny with sweat. Blood dripped from my nose and lip I ached in places I did not know I had places.
But I bloody won.
I put my foot on her belly and Angie got a photo of me standing over the Yank, hands raised in triumph.
Then I just walked away; I didn't think I'd get a hug when she came to. Angela and Cathy came towards me smiling to congratulate me.
Smiling at Cathy I cupped my bared breasts.
"Told ya".
When I get back, maybe, I will look up Mandy Parker.
***
I watched Sharon walk away, God she was so pleased with herself and well she should be. She picked herself up from her defeat, trained hard and fought hard and she won, she deserved it. And me?
Getting my arse kicked was my wake-up call. I'd beaten two first-timers, but Miss Peru showed me I was not as tough as I'd thought if I wanted The Job. The Life. The Career. Then I'll have to fight. That’s the MSE way. I've put off the training because that's what my Mum and sister did and it's what everybody expected. This shit matters. I realised I had a journey to do.
Ever heard of the Dunning-Kruger effect? 'Stupid people don't know that they are stupid' right? Well not entirely, if you read the entire paper (as my Dad had made me do) you realise it's about the difficulties of meta-cognition (Metacognition is an awareness of one's thought processes and an understanding of the patterns behind them, but you know that didn't you? No, you didn’t, liar!) Stupid people don't know enough about a subject to realise how little they know so they overestimate their expertise, while smart people know enough about a subject to realise how much more there is to learn so they underestimate their expertise.
It's a process with four stages. I started out knowing nothing, I was Stage 1: Unconscious Incompetence. After Cindy, I thought I knew how to fight not knowing how little I knew, I was sitting on Stage 2: Conscious Incompetence. Now I know how little I know, but I'm ready to learn - I’m starting on Stage 3: Conscious Competence. It's a long journey but Stage 4: Unconscious Competence where you know so much you don’t realise how much you know, awaits in the distance and yeah, it's gonna hurt.
When I get back, no maybes, I will start training.
Welcome to the MSE.
