Worth the Wait
A right under the ribs, a left to the jaw, a knee to the gut. Emma banged away, knocking Cathy around the room.
Cathy backed away in a defensive posture. She couldn't fight back; she could hardly focus. She was trying to
buy time to get her head straight.
Don't panic, she told herself, remembering the keys to winning: Work cautiously, stay to your strengths and wait for her adversary's inevitable mistake.
Wait for her mistake.
Emma landed a solid left to Cathy's jaw, then dipped down and scooped her up onto her shoulders. Using Cathy's left arm and leg as leverage, she snapped the blonde over her head and down to the bamboo.
Cathy crashed to the floor, her head bouncing once more off the bamboo. Her head rang as Emma pulled her up by the judogi, hauling her right off her feet.
Cathy's head swung wildly; she tried to concentrate, she tried to fight back. Instinctively she grabbed at
Emma's hands on her outfit. Emma brought her right arm back, cocked her fist and – her face etched with rage – aimed at Cathy's face.
Even as the room seemed to spin, words rolled around Cathy's head, familiar words, important words: Work cautiously, stay to your strengths and wait for her mistake. Wait for her mistake.
Emma brought her right fist forward, putting her full weight into it, trying make this the blow that knocked Cathy senseless and finished this fight.
Cathy was seriously hurt, and on the defensive, but a part of her brain was still active, still looking for an opening. It was almost a second sense, developed over decades of training and thousands of matches.
She had been pounded with everything Emma had; any other woman would have been finished long ago. But not Cathy. She took it all and was still standing, still expecting to win, She was waiting for Emma's inevitable mistake.
Emma drove forward, shifting her weight from her right hip to her left, planting her left foot as her right fist came forward, aimed at Cathy's face.
It never connected. Emma's punch never met its mark.
Before it could, Cathy had sensed an opening – a crucial mistake by Emma – and sent her left knee shooting up.
Emma, too, realized her mistake at that point. But too late.
Cathy's knee went driving hard and deep into Emma's exposed crotch.
"Ohhh!" Emma's cry filled the room. She fell to her knees, and the cry continued.
"Ohhh!"
Emma clung to Cathy's judogi as she fell. Cathy slapped both hands away and grabbed hold of Emma's head. Holding it like a football, she reared back with her right leg, and sent her knee flush into Emma's face.
Down Emma flew, slamming to her back as her feet flew up. Before they fell, Cathy grabbed both legs by the ankle and held them high. Standing above Emma, she raised her left foot and positioned it directly above Emma's crotch. She smiled.
Emma looked up, helplessly. She tried but couldn't reach Cathy. She couldn't shake her legs free. She saw Cathy's vicious smile.
Her loud "Nooooooo!" ended in a high-pitched wail as Cathy's right heel came down with all her weight on Emma's crotch.
Steed winced at Emma's horrible, pitiable scream filled the room.
Cathy leg go her legs and they flopped to the floor. Emma curled into the fetal position, her hands on her poor, pummeled crotch. She lay moaning.
"Cathy, please, you must…" Steed saw that Cathy was paying no attention. She could see and hear only Emma; her whole being was focused on her hatred for Emma, her need to destroy her.
Gathering Emma's hair in her left hand, Cathy pulled her up. Emma moaned as she struggled to her feet; horrible pain still radiated from between her legs while her head pounded.
"Get up," screamed Cathy, digging both hands into Emma's locks. "You will get up!"
Hauling Emma to her feet, from behind, Cathy placed a hand beneath each of Emma's thighs and lifted. The small of Emma's back was balanced on Cathy's shoulder, her head and shoulders arched back as Cathy held her rump high, ass up.
Cathy moved her hands to the top of Emma's legs and shoved down. At the same time, she dropped to one knee.
Emma slammed, legs spread, onto Cathy's extended right knee. Her howl of pain reached a higher pitch. For a moment she balanced on Cathy's leg, like she was riding a horse, and then she pitched forward onto her face.
She lay, moaning softly, but Cathy wasn't finished. Again she pulled Emma to her feet and this time, facing her, picked her up with an arm under each leg.
Emma's wailed "Nooo!" as she found herself slung across Cathy's shoulder again. But her scream was cut short as Cathy sent her down once more onto her outstretched knee.
Cathy saw Emma's face turn into a mask of pain as her crotch hit square on her knee. Emma's eyes shut tight, her eyebrows shot high and her mouthed opened wide in a howl.
Before Emma fell, Cathy grabbed both her wrists and held her steady. Emma was sitting facing Cathy, balanced – painfully -- on Cathy's right knee. Her hair hung over her face as her head lolled, a low moan continuing from her mouth.
"You should've done it the easy way, Mrs. Peel," said Cathy, keeping hold of Emma's wrists and stopping her falling.
The only response from Emma was a moan.
"Enough, Cathy, enough," came from Steed.
Cathy dropped Emma arms and pulled her face close.
"Say it, Mrs. Peel," she said, her nose touching Emma's. "Tell me I am the better woman!"
"Never…"
A straight, open-fisted right sent Emma to the floor on her back.
"She doesn't know what's good for her, Steed," said Cathy, standing up and walking toward Emma. "How many chances must I give her?'
Emma lay on her back moaning, her hands protectively between her legs. Cathy stepped over Emma's prone body, bent down, grabbed two handfuls of breast, and yanked.
Yet a new shriek escaped Emma's mouth as she found herself hauled to her feet, excruciatingly, by her breasts.
"My, what tiny little boobs you have, Mrs. Peel," said Cathy, maliciously, as she pulled, squeezed and twisted Emma's poor mammary glands. Lovely things to behold, and perfectly fitted to her lithe frame, they were. But, at 33Bs, they were almost girlish compared to Cathy's 37DDs. Emma knew that, having spent some quality face-time between those melons earlier.
Pulling Emma to her feet, Cathy drew her right fist back and sent a powerful undercut directly into Emma crotch.
With a howl, Emma doubled over. Cathy bent forward and, wrapping her arms around Emma's waist, clasped her hands across her stomach.
She reared back and lifted – and a wordless "Ungh!" came out of Emma as her legs flew up to the sky and her head dropped to the floor. She found herself hanging upside down, suspended in Cathy's arms.
With a grunt, Cathy threw her shoulders back and, keeping tight hold around Emma's waist, jerked Emma forward.
Emma's upper body was dragged forward in a wide arc, rising until her torso was just past perpendicular. There she hung for a moment, for a split-second of weightlessness, as Cathy reached full extension.
For that moment, Cathy stood poised, back arched, right leg planted, left leg out for balance and arms clasped around Emma's waist. Emma was essentially sitting on Cathy's chest, with her legs extended on each side of Cathy's head. Her upper body had jack-knifed up till she faced Cathy.
Their eyes locked, and Cathy's grimace turned into a wicked grin.
Emma's hair, which had trailed behind her like an auburn wave, snapped forward and crashed softly across her face, obscuring her view -- but just for a moment.
A split-second later, up Emma's hair flew up as she began her awful, inevitable downward plunge. She felt weightlessness give way to the sickening feeling of falling, helplessly. Her head had been eight feet off the ground; now it sped to the bamboo, with all of Cathy's strength adding to the force of gravity.
For that split second, Emma had a chance to think over the day – hearing Steed was missing, the note about the rendezvous, the London night, stepping into the building, the dojo, Cathy Gale, her claims about Steed, the fight – then her body slammed to the floor.
Emma landed back first, her legs bent forward at the hips as Cathy's full weight bore down upon her. Emma's head hit, bounced and hit again before coming to rest. Her arms were outstretched behind her, and hair spread wide around her head like a halo, as eyes rolled to back and, finally, shut.
Cathy watched them close as she knelt over Emma, holding her two legs – sticking up like celery sticks -- in her right arm.
She smiled at Steed.
"It had to end at some point," she said, looking down at Emma. "I just hope I haven't been too rough."
"Cathy, please, end this now, and I'll give you anything you want," said Steed, pleadingly.
"I like to hear you beg, Steed," said Cathy, letting Emma's legs drop and standing up. "Although, of course, there's nothing you can give me."
Cathy reached down, grabbed the scruff of Emma's judogi, and dragged the barely consciouss woman across the floor – a good 20 feet – dropped her in front of Steed. Emma, flat on her back with her head toward Steed, didn't move.
Cathy still above Emma and, looking Steed in the eye, slowly lowered herself down until she was sitting on Emma's chest. She tucked Emma's arms under her legs, and slide her knees up on either side of Emma's head until the hem of her judogi touched Emma's chin.
Cathy stared down at Emma, whose eyes were still closed, a pained expression marring her lovely features.
"Wake up, Mrs. Peel," said Cathy, lightly slapping Emma's cheeks.
Steed looked on as Emma's eyes blinked and opened. He could only see her face, upside down, peeking out from between Cathy's legs. Her arms and legs flapped harmlessly. Her eyes blinked and then opened.
Emma looked up to see, horribly, Cathy smiling down at her. Emma looked back and could see Steed, upsidedown, staring down at her with concern.
"Welcome back, Mrs. Peel. Steed was worried for you," Cathy said, grinning over at Steed, who did not smile back. "Now I'm going to give you one last chance. End this ordeal for yourself and simply admit what's plain to us all: I am the better woman.
"Just say it: I am the better woman. Say it!"
The old school fight now flashed through Emma's mind -- the beating, the big American fullback sitting on her chest, her humiliating cry of uncle. She tried to bridge up, but she had no strength. Cathy put an hand to her stomach and shoved her back to the floor.
"Do yourself a favor, Mrs Peel!" said Cathy, bending down toward Emma's face. "Say it!"
Emma's body ached and her head spun. She had been beaten, choked and humiliated, and was totally at Cathy's mercy. Her stubborn refusal could only bring more pain.
"Say it!" screamed Cathy, her face enraged.
Emma looked up, her lips quivered, and finally she spoke:
"Never."
"Damn you!" Cathy shouted down at her. "You stubborn bitch!"
Cathy's clenched her fists and looked up to the ceiling. Steed was worried about what she might do next.
Mastering her emotions, Cathy looked down at Emma.
"If that's your final answer, Mrs. Peel," said Cathy, "then I think you know what happens next."
What happens next? thought Emma. Dear lord, no, she didn't know what was going to happen next. Even though she was resigned to the worst, she still feared what this crazy woman could come up with.
Cathy smiled down at Emma and slide her butt forward on Emma's chest, until the inseam of her pants covered Emma's chin. At the same time she brought her legs together around Emma's face.
"Time for you to take a nap, Mrs. Peel!" said Cathy with a wave of her right hand.
Then Emma knew what was about to happen. She looked up with horror at Cathy, who just smiled.
Emma looked back at Steed, and their eyes met. Even upsidedown, Steed could see the dread in those brown eyes. They looked at him pleadingly, seeming to say words Emma never would – help me, Steed! Save me once more, please.
He shook his long-numb arms, rattling the cuffs, but there was no escape. He was helpless. He could only stand and watch whatever fate Emma was to suffer.
Emma looked back up. Cathy's eyes were cold as steel. A malicious grin spread as she slid further down and brought her legs together.
"No, please, no," begged Emma, softly.
"Sorry, my dear, but you had your chance," said Cathy. "Now, sweet dreams!"
Cathy slid forward, slowly, hiding ever more of Emma's face between her legs.
"Dr. Gale, no, please," said Emma as the door slowly closed over her face. "You … you are .. the … b—"
Cathy slid her heart-shaped tush all the way down over Emma's face, shut her legs -- and Emma was gone.
Whatever else she said was lost in silence of her new tomb.
Emma briefly struggled underneath her, but Cathy easily grabbed her two hands, painfully bending back her fingers. Emma ceased to fight, and Cathy sensed that was her last gasp. She let go of Emma's hands, which dropped to the bamboo, palms out.
Having gathered Emma's hair with her left hand before closing her in, Cathy now used it to pull Emma tighter, to position her just so.
"Ah, that's better," she said with a smile.
Steed looked on in amazement. Emma was stretched out on the floor in front of him, lying flat on her back, legs spread. But, where her head should be, sat Cathy. Looking at up him, smiling, with hands on hips, she looked like a swan proudly sitting on her egg.
Emma's hair poked through at Cathy's crotch and cascaded down her lap in an auburn blaze, providing the only splash of color to the scene. It looked vaguely like blood, thought Steed.
***
The last thing Emma saw was Cathy's grinning face as the doors shut and she was enclosed in darkness.
Cathy's full weight was pressing down on Emma's face, her legs forming walls on the sides of Emma's head. Emma was entombed in a prison of flesh.
A wave of panic swept over her and Emma tried one last time to free herself, but her strength was gone. She felt Cathy grab her hands. Emma gave a silent cry and all resistence ended. Her arms fell; she couldn't left them again.
Emma fought for air. She could draw it through the folds of Cathy's judogi, but it was hard work. And there wasn't enough. She felt her strength ebbing.
And it was hot, so very hot. The engine of Cathy's great heart sent blood through pumping through her powerful body; like a furnace it burned on Emma's face. The sweat poured out.
She felt Cathy tug on her hair, pulling her head up and rubbing her face into her bottom. Emma's nose and lips were crushed against the folds of Cathy's judogi; Cathy's legs on the sides prevented her from turning away.
Emma, finally, gave way to despair. And this is how it ends? This final humilation on a day of humiliations, she thought. But it would soon be over. Emma did not expect to leave this room alive. She had failed, and both she and Steed would die.
Tears mingled with sweat, until sweet darkness came and took Emma away.
***
"So what do you think, Steed?" said Cathy, sitting proud as a peacock, hands on hips and a big smile on her face.
"Cathy, you never cease to amaze!" said Steed. "Where did you learn that one?"
"This one," she said, with a laugh. "A little project I did some years ago. We filmed some, shall we say, erotica. Perhaps I'll let you take a look some day."
"Er, eh, yes, I would love to" said Steed, amazed once more. Cathy Gale in fetish films? He truly would love to see these. But then he thought of Emma.
"Cathy – what about Mrs. Peel? You'll kill her. Can she even breathe in there?"
"Oh, she can breathe, all right," said Cathy as a wave of – exstacy, Steed thought – swept over her face. Cathy picked up Emma's ponytail and stroked it. "Oh, yes. She can breath."
Cathy felt Emma's breath like fire. At first coming in gasps, it had become regular. Cathy spread her legs slightly to let in a little more air.
Closing her eyes in concentration, Cathy began rocking her hips back and forth, rhythmically. With two hands she tugged on Emma's hair, pulling her face closer, rubbing it against her bottom.
"Cathy," Steed said, watching this incredible scene, "what are you…"
"Please shut-up a moment, Steed," said Cathy, eyes closed, as she rocked. A low moan now came from her.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh… ohhhhhhhhh… ohhhhhhhhhh!"
My lord, thought Steed, is she doing what I think she's doing?
Cathy rocked harder, now like a cowgirl on a bucking bronco. She held tight to Emma's hair, as if it was the reins, as her pelvis rose and fell. Cathy's hair flew as she rode Emma across the floor, actually bouncing several feet closer to Steed, and turning at an angle.
Emma's body was dragged along behind Cathy, dead weight, legs and arms flapping. Emma was out of it, but alive. Now and then a hand would close or a foot kick, Steed saw, as a sleeper's body will react during a nightmare.
Cathy's cries rose several octaves, became more urgent.
"Ahhhhhhhh… ahhhhhhhhhhh…. ahhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Faster Cathy rocked, up and down, pulling Emma's head in ever tighter. Emma's body rose and fell in waves, traveling from her shoulders to her back, legs and feet, which bounced up and down on the bamboo,
"Oh …. Oh, my…" Cathy's body rocked back and forth as she rubbed harder. "Oh my, oh my, oh … AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Her high-pitched wail reverberated across the room.
Steed couldn't believe he was witnessing -- Cathy had just had an orgasm on Emma's face. In his wildest dreams he hadn't thought of anything this deviant and marvelous.
But Cathy wasn't done. She rolled onto her back, keeping Emma's head locked in place between her legs, and yanked down on Emma's ponytail with her left hand. With her right she rubbed Emma's face in tight circles around her crotch.
She lay back, moaning.
"Ohhh… ohhh…. AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Multiple orgasms, Steed corrected himself.
Cathy's rocking slowed. Her wail became a low moan, and finally she fell back with a swoon.
"Oh, my!" said Cathy, with a hand to her forehead. "Wow."
She rolled back up into a sitting position, with Emma's head still trapped under her. Cathy threw her blond hair back and smoothed it down.
She looked, almost with surprise, as if she'd just noticed Steed hanging in front of her. She smiled at him.
"Got a cigarette, John?"
