“Let her go, Jen,” I said after Katie went limp. That had taken a couple of minutes. The redhead had struggled wildly but Jen had rode her back and choked her out. She jerked on the shirt twisted around Katie’s throat one last time and let her go.
Second knockout to Jennifer. One to one. I gave Jen the canteen and she drank greedily. When Katie came around, she swallowed a little water, with difficulty. Her windpipe was bruised. “Lucky I didn’t kill you, bitch,” Jennifer said to her.
When Katie had knocked out Jen, she’d gotten five free shots at the blonde’s body. Now it was Jen’s turn. From behind her, I pinned Katie’s arms across the stall door.
“She had the gloves,” Jen said.
“You can use your belt,”I said.
She liked that idea. She pulled it off. Her jeans had already popped open and this exposed a little more. I could see the top edge of her pussy hair.
“Now, slut,” Jen said. “I don’t think you can fucking take this.”
Five times, she whipped the leather strap into the redhead’s tits. Coming from her damaged throat, Katie’s screams were especially harsh. After the last lash, Jen put her hand around Katie’s throat and squeezed. “That felt good, bitch,” she said.
“Let go, Jen,” I said.
She didn’t. I had to knock her arm away.
Katie breathed in gasping sobs. Jennifer’s aim had been good. The belt had cut her nipples up bad.
“Fight on,” I said.
Katie didn’t move, even though I no longer held her.
Jen smiled, a bloody cruel smile. “Like I said. She couldn’t take it.”
“Fuck you, Jen,” Katie rasped. “I’m not done.”
Jennifer said to me, “Rule Two included ‘use anything,’ right?”
“Right,” I said. Jen’s boots clicked across the floor. I watched her ass and her naked back. She picked up a pitchfork from the corner and turned back.
I stepped between her and Katie. “Not the business end,” I said. I took it from the blonde girl, stuck in between the slats in the stall, and broke the handle just above the iron forks. I gave the handle back to Jennifer.
She rammed the butt end of it into Katie’s lower belly. Right into the spot she’d stomped over and over. Katie buckled forward onto her hands and knees. Jen slammed the fork handle across her lower back. An otherworldly sound of pain burst out of the redhead.
Jen hit her again. Katie’s arms stayed locked out, but her knees went out from under her and her hips dropped to the floor. Jen twirled the stick and drove the blunt end straight down into the base of Katie’s spine.
I didn’t think Katie would get up from that. In fact it crossed my mind that she might never get up from that. But believe it or not, she tried, getting her knees back under herself at least. Jen slid the handle under Katie’s chin, one hand on either side of her head, and dragged her head back. She lifted Katie’s torso, then jerked her up to her feet. With a move like some kind of fucking killer ballerina, Jen twisted and ducked under her own arm. Her wrists crossed behind her neck and behind Katie’s neck too as they stood back to back now. The solid wood of the handle was across Katie’s throat.
Slowly, Jennifer bent forward at the waist. Her ass pressed into Katie’s damaged back as the redhead came up on her toes. Katie’s back arched. The skin on her ribs pulled tight. Her feet lifted off the floor. Her lashed tits shuddered. Jennifer screamed with effort. Katie couldn’t scream.
Jennifer could only crucify her rival like that for a minute. It was enough. When she let go and Katie crashed to the floor, she had been unconscious already for maybe ten seconds, judging by when her arms went limp.
“Enough,” I said. Even I can only watch so much torture.
It took an hour and another canteen of water even for Jennifer to be able to walk to the horses. She sobbed in pain all the way back to the ranch house because every step her horse took jarred her battered, swollen tits. Katie couldn’t walk or ride. I carried her and put her on my horse in front of me and led her mount behind.
A few of the boys were back from Helena when we rode in.
“What the fuck, Tom?” one of them said.
I dismounted. He caught Katie as she fell sideways off the horse.
“Barn fight,” I said. “She may need a doctor.”
Jennifer half-slid, half-fell off her horse into my arms.
“Her too, it looks like,” said the hand.
Her arms around my neck, Jen pressed her aching tits into my chest. Even through her denim shirt I could feel heat baking off her. She kissed me deep.
“Doctor later,” she said. She put her cracked lips by my ear so only I heard the last. “First, fuck the winner.”
The summer season was over. We only needed the permanent hands. Jennifer came back to visit the family, rarely, but every time she did we fucked, until I married. Once or twice after that, too, but eventually the ranch sold and I didn’t see Jennifer again. We emailed occasionally over the next couple of years. She had a job, lived in Minneapolis. The last email she sent me she told me Katie had been in contact with her. That Katie wanted to fight her again.
“I think I’ll do it,” she wrote to me. “I just have to find a barn.”
