The three women settled into their cabin of the train as it slowly pulled out of the station. Lady Natalie Adair and Ms. Simone Mehler were sitting on one bench and Miss Amanda Perrione was sitting opposite them. The interior was quite plush, and there was a table between them for food and refreshments. All three were wearing very nice dresses that displayed slightly more than the acceptable amount of cleavage, and the older women who only traveled with their husbands had given them disapproving looks as they boarded. Simone had shushed them and, as they had been seeing to their luggage, confided to her companions that the family who owned the railroad was the same who was hosting them on the other end of their journey. They ordered tea and with evident nerves spoke of the clouds that had threatened them as they had boarded the train. Amanda pulled a deck of cards from her purse and began shuffling them repeatedly, the whirrs and clicks of the cards barely audible over the grinding of the wheels below their window and the jostling of the cars.
“Natalie,” Simone said rather loudly. “Why don’t you tell us what you’ve been up to?”
“Yes, Natalie,” Amanda said. “Tell us how you and your charming husband have been.”
“I heard from a little sparrow that you had some excitement recently,” Simone responded, giving her a brief sideways look. “A little dessert for yourself?”
“Well, Jonathan and I were at a ball this past summer,” Natalie said with a sigh that indicated her false modesty over sharing her story. “It was hosted by the Cunningham family. They have this wonderful estate set back in the woods and I remember that it was the first night of the rain. I don’t know where you were, but here, last summer, it rained and rained and it was so hot. You couldn’t keep your hair dry and everything was molding. Anyway, like I said, this ball the Cunninghams hosted was the first night. Their estate is old and all of us got messy going inside. And from the start this one brunette bitch kept eyeing Jonathan. She was staring right at him and she saw that I’d seen her and she just kept doing it,” Natalie added with a disgusted sigh. She shook her head at the thought of it and drank from her tea.
“What did she look like?” Simone asked.
“Better than she did after I got done with her,” Natalie answered, and they all laughed. “She was pretty, but her hair was in this braid that made her forehead look too big. And she was wearing this blue dress that was supposed to show off her chest but she wasn’t big enough to fill it up. She’s tall, a little taller than either of us and a bit too far on the thin side. And she kept smiling and holding her eyes wide open like she was surprised at everything. And I found out afterward that she had just turned 18. She was a little girl chasing after the grown women’s men.”
“So she’s done this before?”
“She did it that night!” Natalie exclaimed. She ate one of the biscuits, breaking off small bits and popping them into her mouth without taking it off the tray. “Jonathan wasn’t the only man whose attention she was after. While we were eating she kept asking Lord Chamberlain his opinion of some land deal, and she nearly knocked Count Ford down, deliberately bumping into him when people were queueing up to dance. And all the time she kept leaning forward so that they’d look down her dress. Like anyone wanted to see her little boobs. But Jonathan was the one she was really after. I found out later that every time I stepped away, she found some reason to come up to Jonathan and ask him something or bring him a glass of wine or whatever. And then one time, she was making eye contact with Jonathan while sticking out her chest, like she was mocking me.”
“What a bitch,” Amanda said. She was still shuffling her cards.
“It was so humiliating. The entire next week I had friends coming by the house to tell me about it. And they all acted like it was just the worst for them to have to tell me about it, but I know that they liked it. And they kept talking about how pretty she looked and her dress. I don’t think she looked that good in it,” Natalie said, glancing out the window. She coughed and took another drink of her tea and adjusted her neckline.
“You couldn’t have this little girl infringing on your territory like this,” Simone prodded.
“I won’t stand for it. So I found out that she was staying with her aunt and uncle, and a few weeks after the ball they had gone out of town and left her there by herself. With their staff obviously, but it isn’t a large house and they don’t have a lot of people there. And I got my man to pay the house staff to spend the afternoon in town buying food and whatever and I went and paid her a little visit.”
It had been raining for weeks, constantly, it felt like, when Natalie went to visit this younger brunette. Her name was Jessica Rogers, and as Natalie pulled up to her aunt and uncle’s house in her coach she noticed how pedestrian it was. The house was closer to being a normal house as would line the streets in the city than a manor of an important family, and Natalie felt a sense of warmth inside as she took note of the dead tree along the path and the cracks in the mortar of the wall. It was pouring rain and she sat for a second in her coach and adjusted her hair and dress one last time before going to the door. She was wearing more makeup and showing more cleavage than would be appropriate for a social call, but it was important to strike the correct note, she told herself. She was also carrying draped over one arm a long coat despite the heat. The house did have coverage for its front door and she went up and pulled the cord herself, sending her man and the carriage to wait by the stables. To her mild surprise, a maid answered promptly and led her to a sitting room. The house was somewhat nicer inside than out, and there were fresh flowers by the chair the maid directed her to. The room was decorated with flowers, a couch, these two chairs, some end tables, and there was a set of French doors that opened onto a patio and garden behind the chairs. The maid said that ‘the lady’ would be with her shortly and disappeared.
‘I’m so glad that you could stop by,’ a voice said from behind Natalie. It was Jessica and as she sat in the chair facing her Natalie glanced at her lean legs. She was wearing a very nice dress with a neckline just as revealing as Natalie’s and a slit up the side showing off those legs. Jessica also wore quite a bit of makeup and she had obviously spent a great deal of time on her hair that morning. She’d had it cut recently, and her straight brown locks stopped short of her shoulders. Her chest was not as well formed as Natalie’s, but the twin spheres swelling up from the dress was quite pleasant, and Natalie drew herself up straighter and inhaled, making her own imposing bosom stand out in profile. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this.’
‘I was just out for a ride and I thought that I’d stop by,’ Natalie said, and as she spoke she rotated her legs and her torso so that she was more directly facing each other. She also tucked her hair behind her ear.
‘Oh, I don’t think that’s true, is it?’ Jessica asked, and she ran her fingers through her own hair and smiled. ‘I think that you’ve come to teach me a little lesson.’
‘I shouldn’t have bribed your staff,’ Natalie answered, giving up the façade.
‘I increased their pay the first week I was here, so they’re quite loyal to me now. But don’t worry, I’ve sent most of them into town anyway, and I’ve given instructions to the rest. We won’t be interrupted with our little chat.’
‘Well, let’s get straight to it then. I’m on to you and all of the other grown women here are too.’
‘Grown women?’ Jessica asked with a chuckle. ‘And here I thought you were only a few years older than me. My mistake.’
At that moment, Nat realized that Jessica’s front teeth were a bit larger than was really acceptable for women of their station and Jessica was grinning at her, just barely exposing those overly large teeth, and Nat slapped her across the face. Jessica squealed and her head was spun around but she wasted no time reacting. She flung herself at her, knocking Nat and her chair over backward. The both of them went sprawling across the floor. The arm of the chair struck Nat in the ribs and she was holding her side as she came to her feet. But the lower half of her dress was too tight and she teetered a bit and as she was trying to regain herself Jessica repaid the slap from earlier with interest. Right and left palms landed on her cheeks with hard thwacks that reminded Nat, even as she was being hit, of her servants pounding their meat flat in the kitchen. She was sent stumbling backwards, the room and her long blonde hair still spinning, and then Jessica again dove into her and put her down. On the floor, they both immediately went for each other’s hair, but Nat’s long blonde hair proved an easier target than Jessica’s short brunette locks. They were lying side by side and Jessica had her head pulled back and Nat was struggling to get a good grip. So she gave that up and instead ripped open the front of Jessica’s dress, and then when Jessica let go of her hair and tried to protect her dress and pull at Nat’s hands Nat rolled her onto her back. Now she was in control and began slapped Jessica back and forth on the face. Jessica hissed and howled and tried to block Nat’s arms with her own and then she grabbed hold of Nat’s breasts and squeezed. She only had hold of some of her flesh and some of the dress but she was still able to hurt her. And the grip latched on firmly was preventing Nat from slapping her as hard. Nat tried to reach around her arms and grab Jessica’s medium-sized breasts but then at last she pried the hands off of her chest and got rolled off of her as she did. Her dress fell apart in the motion and now the two women were sitting on the floor, their dressed shredded to the waist.
‘I thought you had something you wanted to teach me,” Jessica taunted.
They sat glaring at each other for one more instant, eyes narrowed, and then they came at each other again. Their torn dresses were a whir of expensive material whipping about the room and Nat felt that she was digging under the fabric to get at the face and body of the younger girl. She ripped and tore at the dress as Jessica did the same to hers and before long they were mostly naked, their dresses now worthless piles of rags. Their breasts and flat stomachs and thighs and shoulders were all exposed now as they were rolling back and forth on the floor. They tumbled over their dresses and bumped into the tipped over chair and the end table that had been broken at some unknown point, hands grabbing and slapping at the flesh of their backs and chests and faces. At one point Jessica got on top and she used Nat’s hair to pound her head on the floor but Nat distracted her by pinching and twisting her nipples and then rolling her over. And then when Nat was on top of her rather than sitting up she locked her two legs around Jessica’s one and kept her hips to her side and next to Jessica’s so that she could not be tipped over as easily and from there she punished the younger brunette. She had her in a headlock with her left arm and smacked her in the side and in the face with her right and then she drove punches into her ribs and into the side of her breast over and over again. Jessica pulled at her hair and smacked her and grabbed her breast but she couldn’t generate enough force to really hurt her and Nat wrenched on her neck, pulling her head forward and down, and soon Jessica was gasping for air under Nat and her struggling weakened.
Nat hit her a few more times in the side and then rising she pulled her up to her feet. Once there Jessica tried to resist but Nat, holding her by the hair on top of her head with as tight a grip as she could manage, slapped her in the face and across the breasts a few more times. Then she shoved her onto the couch so that she was sitting up and then planted herself standing in front of her. She slapped her back and forth across the face and then grabbed hold of her breasts and squeezed and then rotating her hands began pulling up. Jessica was howling now, pulling at the hands on her chest, and as she rose Nat pushed her, still holding onto her breasts, so that her back was leaning across the top of the sofa and her head was facing up toward the ceiling. Then Nat began squeezing and slapping her breasts and hitting her in the face. Jessica howled in pain and tried to pull the hands away from her and she pulled at Nat’s hair and hit her breasts in return but Nat was not impressed. Then Jessica began crying out for her to stop but Nat kept going.
‘Are you going to fuck with my husband anymore?’ Nat asked her, at last, cupping her hand against Jessica’s cheek. Jessica was sobbing now and holding her hands over her bosom.
‘No, it was just a joke, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to steal your husband. I’m sorry,’ she repeated.
‘Oh, it doesn’t sound like you get it yet,’ Nat answered.
Nat pulled her away from the couch and yanking on her short brunette hair and one arm she led her to the French doors. Jessica was a bit taller than Nat and she was pulling down on her hair as well as forward. When Jessica realized what was going to happen she stamped her feet down on the floor and tried to brace herself against the wall but Nat pulled on. And then she was opening the door and pulling her through and out into the pouring rain. Both were immediately drenched and Nat continued pulling her down into the muck of the garden. Jessica at last tried to start fighting again but Nat tossed her over her hips into the mud and landed on top of her. She got her face down and pressed her into the mud. Jessica waved her arms in the air and tried to push herself up but she had nothing to help her and her feet started thrashing. Nat let it go another few seconds and then rolled her onto her back.
‘Are you going to keep your eyes off my husband?’ she asked her, and Jessica sputtering and sobbing, facing up into the rain, whispered and nodded that she would.
“And that was it,” Natalie told the other two women in the train car. “The next time she attended a ball her behavior was much improved, I will give her that.”
They all laughed and the miles passed by. Simone told them of cities she had visited on the continent and projects she had managed for her father. They ordered a late breakfast and when they were done eating Simone told Amanda that she should tell Natalie what she had been doing since the last time they saw each other. Outside the window, the trees were thinning out and cottages and mills were becoming more common. Amanda settled into the seat and pushed her hair, chestnut with individual strands of honey blonde, out of her face. The last of her eggs and beans were cooling on her plate and she finished them and sipped at her coffee. “After everything that happened at Highland Lake, I decided that I needed to find something else to do. Yes, you paid us well, Natalie. I’m not complaining about that. But after that tussle with Kayley I realized that there wasn’t a real future in it. A big payday, coming along by chance, every once in a while and a lot of scratching to get by in between. Pun intended,” she added.
Simone laughed but Natalie did not. “And what happened to Gabriela?” she asked.
“She wanted to keep trying with the company. After we left that resort we divided the money evenly, and that’s the last I saw of her.”
“Did you miss the competition?”
“Well, let’s just say that I found plenty of competition on my own,” Amanda said, and she began telling her story.
Amanda had saved up enough money to live on for a few months without worry. She traveled to a city she’d never been to, Valora, and once there she secured an apartment for herself and bought a new outfit of clothes. For generations, her family had been the masons for the lords of her home, and as was the case for many people there, the women had worked alongside the men. Her mother had been the accountant for the family while her father supervised the construction, and she had learned her figures while sitting at mother’s side at night while her older sister followed their father around the estate of whichever landed family they were working for. Between her and her sister she was the serious one, always focused, and her parents had hoped that she would marry well and take charge of the family business. But as she hit her late teenage years, her body and her looks fully developed and she learned that she enjoyed using both against the other young women in her town. This was not okay with her parents and they eventually made it clear that she would not be inheriting their business if she continued like this. When she was 19, about a year after she had begun competing with other women like this, a troupe of wrestling women came through their town and put on a performance. Amanda went and when they asked for a volunteer she knocked aside the girl in front of her when she was raising her hand and stormed the ring. The women in their tight, revealing suits and their athleticism as they leapt across the ring and collided with each intoxicated her. And then when the troupe left in the morning, she went with them, and a few months after that she was in charge, having taken the reigns by force from the older woman who was in charge. This older woman had gotten tired of Amanda’s criticizing her decisions and asking about the specifics of their financial situation and they had met in the woods one night and had it out and afterward Amanda was in charge and she was gone.
So when she had settled into Valora she began making friends, and within a few weeks she had met a man who had a contract to build a station for the new railway line connecting Valora to the capital. Amanda worked in the office and he gave her a desk near his door. At the start, she was taking notes and getting food but soon enough she was correct mistakes in their math and finding a new, more reliable supplier for their picks and shovels. She also made sure that she was dressed in style, from the money she had gotten from her troupe. Her light brown hair was down to her shoulders then and her body was as athletic and capable as ever, and the dresses she wore displayed her firm, medium-sized breasts and her shapely legs and ass to their best effect. She even began wearing tighter skirts and blouses as well. All of this put her on the bad side of Christine, the buxom redhead who was the queen of the office. She was beautiful and everything she wore displayed her enormous breasts and wide hips. She had been lording over the other women who worked there for several years, and any woman who threatened her position, she made sure did not last for long. More than once, an attractive young woman had quit suddenly and Christine missed a few days of work and was wearing a great deal of makeup when she returned. When she started there, Amanda heard the stories and prepared herself.
The redhead started by giving her the most demeaning or tedious work. Amanda had to deliver news to the most distant worksite or was made to spend the day at the place with the most dust and grime swirling in the air. She was sent out to get food or beer for the men and when she returned, her pens or the accounting reports she had been checking were gone. Most galling of all was that she could feel the redhead staring at her when she walked across the office. Finally, Amanda’s purse went missing while she was running a message down the street. And, it was the same day that she’d worn a particularly tight skirt. When she came back from the errand, she immediately saw that her purse was gone from her chair and she immediately knew what had happened. At that moment, Christine was in the boss’s office showing him a set of files, and Amanda went over to her desk. She made sure that Christine saw her through the interior windows of the office and while she was watching Amanda took Christine’s purse and a pair of scissors and cut off the straps. None of the men had seen her but the other women most certainly did. She slowly put the purse across the top of her desk and returned to her own.
When Christine was done with the boss, she crossed the room to Amanda. She walked slowly, eyeing her the whole time, swaying her hips as she walked. And when she reached her, she braced both hands on the top of her desk and, leaning forward so that her imposing bosom threatened to spill from the top of her dress, spoke in a slow, dry voice. ‘I think that this has gone on long enough, don’t you?’ she asked.
‘I know that I’d like to be done with it.’
Christine nodded and said, ‘The basement, 9pm tonight. Whoever walks out, gets to stay.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Amanda answered just as slowly.
That night Amanda let herself into the office and immediately descended the stairs into the basement. She had never been down there before and she was surprised at how large it was. The entire room was perhaps thirty yards on each side, with half taken up by rows of shelving for storage. The other half, where Christine was waiting for her, had been occupied by a few long tables and chairs that the redhead had already pushed to the side. Amanda stopped by the staircase and stared at her and then slowly came all the way in and stood by the one of the tables along the wall. She had worn a pair of overalls and a men’s workshirt and she saw that Christine had chosen the same. Amanda had worn her hair loose but when she saw that the other woman had hers tied back in a ponytail she did the same. Christine produced a key and, holding it up, she went up the stairs and locked the door and then returning she put the key at the top of one of the shelving units and returned to the far side of the room. The building was wired for electric light and there was one bulb hanging from the ceiling. The two women stood staring at each other in the dim light, and then Christine began unbuttoning her shirt and Amanda immediately followed suit. They pulled down the suspenders of their overalls and tossed their shirts aside and stood before each other. Christine was a striking beauty and Amanda could see in her eyes that she enjoyed the sport of it, the competition with these women, intruders in the office she saw as her exclusive territory. She was nearly the same height as a shorter man and she was at least two inches taller than Amanda. Amanda could feel the pants of the overalls tight against her strong legs and her perfectly curved posterior and she noticed that Christine’s pants were a little looser, less revealing of her lower body. She was wider across the chest and shoulders than Amanda, and the hips as well, and Amanda knew that she would be heavier and perhaps stronger overall. Amanda’s breasts were firm and well-sized, appropriate to her athletic frame, and her tight brown nipples stood prominently from her chest. But Christine’s breasts were enormous, even for her larger body, and Amanda had to admit that it was impressive how little they dropped without support. Her nipples were lighter in coloring and seemed to cover the entire front of her breasts. The redhead probably had the largest breasts Amanda had ever seen on a fit and fighting woman.
‘Jealous?’ Christine asked her, jiggling her breasts side to side. ‘Never seen a real woman before?’
‘You’re the one who can’t stand having a younger, more attractive woman around.’
And with that, the two women rushed at each other. There was no strategy. Amanda threw a wild punch that hit Christine across the cheek and the redhead punched her squarely in the center of her chest. The blow had a lot of power behind it and Amanda staggered back, covering herself, stunned, and the larger woman was on her again. Christine clocked her on the chin but Amanda stood firm and she ripped punches into her stomach and up into her breasts. Christine grunted and hunched forward and grabbed hold of her and Amanda stayed in there and wrapping her left around her body threw more rights up into her gut and chest. But it was a mistake and Christine had a hold of her now. Christine put one hand on the back of her neck and pulled her head forward and down and slammed her fist up into Amanda’s face. All the strength left her and Amanda sagged forward against Christine’s chest. In response Christine gripped her bodily and slammed her against the wall and then tossed her to the side. Amanda went stumbling and she struck one of the long tables at her hip and rolled onto the top. She was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling, and her hip and her forehead hurt mightily. And then the redhead was leaning over her. She tried to sit up and roll off the table, but Christine put her hand across her face and shoved her back down. Then she began pounding on her stomach with hammer fists.
After a few blows to her stomach Amanda had recovered. She grabbed hold of Christine’s fist with both hands and bringing her leg up kneed her in the side. It wasn’t a hard blow but it did get the other woman away from her enough for her to roll off the table and get safely to the other side. Now they faced off across the table from each other. Sweating, breathing hard, both of them grinning, they sidestepped down to the end of the table and out into space again. They squared up, one foot forward, hands up and loose, and they danced in a circle like that, hopping and jittery. Amanda hit her in the face and Christine took it and rushed at her but Amanda slipped to the side and they came square again. This time, Christine was more careful, throwing jabs. The first of these Amanda blocked with her forearms but then Christine threw a looping punch over the top that got Amanda on her temple and then the redhead tried to bully her again. Christine rushed at her, trying to get close, and Amanda jabbed at her body and backpedaled but rather than giving up and resetting she kept coming after her. At last Christine had her and they were grappling with each other. They clung to each other’s shoulders and threw short punches into each other’s ribs and they were close enough each could feel the other’s breath. Christine was stronger and she was driving Amanda backwards and finally Amanda’s back struck against the bare wall and she was stuck.
Immediately when Amanda stopped backing up Christine slammed her body into hers and leaned on her, pinning her in place. Amanda had hold of her ponytail and pulled with one hand and punched her in the side and back but she could get no strength behind her. Christine drove her hips into her and she was snarling now. She put her forearm across Amanda’s throat and pressed and pushed up so that Amanda felt like she was being stressed and then she started throwing slow, hard blows into her ribs with the other hand. Amanda could see the fight ending already and desperate she wrapped both arms around Christine’s back and she tried to wrench or toss her but the other woman was too large and too strong and then Amanda took her feet off the ground and wrapped them around Christine’s waist and she hung on with all she had. The sudden shift caught her unaware and Christine sagged down with her. Together they slid down the wall to the floor and there Amanda was sitting with her back to the wall and the redhead kneeling in front and slightly above her. Christine had her hands on the wall to support herself and Amanda hit her in the side of the head and then she hooked her fingers into the corner of her mouth and pulled back. Christine shrieked in panic and let go of her and pulled at the hand. Amanda was able to get her legs under her and propel herself forward, tipping Christine over onto her back. She tried to sit on her and pin her down but the woman was too strong. They grabbed for each other’s hands and struggled and momentarily Amanda slapped her breasts, hard slaps that she brought from directly overhead, and then Christine got her palms against her torso and with a mighty heave tossed her aside and rolled clear.
Again they came to their feet. With no preparation they threw punches at each other. Amanda hit her with two jabs to the face and then a hook that thudded home but Christine hit her back with no interruption. Amanda was forced again to circle away from her but each time the redhead came forward Amanda struck. A right to the face and then a left and a right to the breasts. Christine continued to follow her, throwing looping punches. Some of these hit her and each time they hurt her, some to her face and some to her chest or stomach, and she felt each one. But Amanda made her pay, hitting her in the breasts and when Christine lowered her hands to protect herself there, hitting her in the face. Heavy thumping sounds as fists landed on flesh. On both women, the skin of their faces and breasts was turning red. Christine came in again and Amanda tagged her flush in the center of her face and Christine grunted and this time she was sent backwards, covering her face and moaning. There was blood running from her nose now and when she saw it Amanda rushed in. She lunged forward and threw lefts and rights into Christine’s torso as she covered her face and then she put everything she had into a right to Christine’s face, planting her feet and torquing her hips and grunting, and the punch hit home against the side of Christine’s head. The bigger redhead moaned and stumbled backwards and hit against one of the tables and collapsed on it. Amanda reached for her and Christine kicked out at her to ward her off. The blow landed on her thigh and Amanda ignored it and put her hands on the redhead as she was sitting up. She slapped her with a vicious open hand to the face, putting her down on her back, and then she seized hold of her great breasts, sinking in her hands and crushing with she had. She was standing in front of her as she was sprawled on her back and Christine pulled at her hands and cried out and then she locked her legs around Amanda’s waist and squeezed. Now they both were gasping and moaning and Amanda took her hands off of those breasts and tried to pull the legs open and then she began punching Christine in the stomach. Finally Christine unlocked her legs but as Amanda backed up, holding her waist in pain, Christine kicked her solidly in the stomach, driving her back and all the way onto her ass.
Without hesitation Christine threw herself through the air and onto Amanda. She landed squarely on her, stunning both women, and for some seconds they lay mindlessly on the ground. Then they began churning back and forth on the floor, the dirt and dust of the floor mixing with their sweat so that soon both of them were coated in a wet grime. Hands clutched at backs and slapped and punched and they pulled at hair and used it to bang each other’s heads on the floor. The strain wrecked their ponytails and their hair hung loose, wet and disheveled. Their harsh breathing and the wet smacking sounds of their blows and their groans of pain and anger were the only sounds of the basement. Amanda was on top and she reared up and got in punches on Christine’s face but then the redhead turned her over and got on top of her. She tried to mount her but Amanda bucked her hips pitching her forward and Christine flopped down onto her face. Her enormous bust was smothering her and Christine grabbed her hair and held her in place. The swell of female flesh was covering her face and Amanda tried to turn her head away and she pounded on the redhead’s back but to no avail and then she sucked the flesh into her mouth and bit down. Immediately Christine yelped in pain and drew herself up and Amanda hung on, the flesh of the bosom stretching, her teeth bared. Then they were rolling on the ground again and Christine hit her on the side of the head and she had to let go. They lay on the ground hitting each other and then they came apart.
Amanda was the first to rise to her feet. She pushed herself up with one hand on the wall, the sleek lines of her body covered in the grime from the floor, her hair plastered to her face and neck, feminine rage twisting her face. Christine rose more slowly, coming to her hands and knees, her hair and her breasts both swaying as she struggled to rise. She was breathing in great wheezes and Amanda could see the red tint of her torso even through the dirt stuck to her. On her huge bosom was the bite mark where Amanda had attacked her. At last she was up and they stood staring at each other, ready to begin once again. Amanda came forward slowly, expecting her bigger opponent to do the same, and she was planning to kick her in the legs as Christine tried to box her. But instead, Christine rushed her. She caught her by surprise and, ducking down, planted her shoulder in Amanda’s chest. Using her strength Christine drove her backward until she struck one of the tables. It hit her squarely in the small of her back and for an instant the muscles in her backside were spasming. She was helpless there and Christine nailed her with a straight punch to the breast and then a cross to the face. Amanda was sent tumbling to the floor, her hair whipping around her head as she was twisted by the force of the blow, and she fell at Christine’s feet. She got to her hands and knees as fast as she could but the other woman pulled her head up by the hair. She was held there, her face even with the other woman’s waist, and she tried to wrap her arms around her thighs but Christine drove her knee up into her breasts, and again, and on the second she let go of her hair so that she went sailing onto her back. She lay there, facing up at the ceiling, the air driven out of her and her breasts aching from deep in her chest, and then she locked eyes with the redhead who was standing over her. She took note of the lines of her thighs and the enormous twin spheres of her breasts as seen from below.
‘You need some character on your face,’ Christine said.
Amanda was lying helpless as Christine kneeled beside her. She turned her over onto her stomach and shoved her face down into the dirty floor. Holding onto her hair she ground her face back and forth so that Amanda could feel every pebble and clump of dirt burning into her cheek, her jawline, the ridge over her eye, her nose. There was so much weight and strength pressing down on her. And in her mind she suddenly the image of the redhead, on her knees, holding her there and pressing on her face, her breasts wobbling as she strained to push her down into the floor, her back wet and grimy, the hatred on her face. And it gave Amanda a burst of strength. She somehow pushed herself up onto her knees and then her elbows and then she was stuck there, straining against the woman pushing her down, and then in a move of desperation and luck she reached over her head and seized hold of Christine’s hair with her right hand and pulled. It caught her completely off guard and Christine leaned across her body and Amanda was able to roll with her. In their new position Christine was lying on her back, still with one hand in Amanda’s hair, and Amanda was across her, perpendicular, face up to the ceiling. Immediately Christine pulled back on her hair, arcing her back, and then she clamped onto her breast with the other hand. Amanda howled in pain. She was still holding Christine’s hair with her right hand and she pulled forward, torquing her neck and pressing her chin into her chest, constricting her breathing. Then she began slamming lefts into her face. Amanda’s hair was still being pulled and she couldn’t see what she was doing but soon enough she had found her mark and the punches were landing home. Not hard but over and over. Christine was grunting and gurgling as she tried to breathe and then Amanda could feel her starting to thrash under her as she was trying to get free. The burning in Amanda’s breast as she mauled her and in her scalp as she pulled her hair. Finally Amanda let go and got clear and they separated.
They were still rising when they launched themselves at each other like two great cats, the brunette a sleek and powerful panther and the redhead a majestic lioness, both of them avatars of femininity. They slammed together, wrapping their arms around each other and circling around the room. Amanda felt the larger body of her opponent, the flesh of her shoulder and upper chest pressed against the side of her face, the arms around her body, squeezing and wrenching and tossing her about the room. Once and again Amanda’s feet left the floor as the larger woman bullied her. When her feet were solidly planted Amanda popped out her hips and created some space and threw a punch up into Christine’s stomach. It hurt her and Amanda did it again and now she had her leaning forward and she poured it on, hitting her in the stomach and up into the breasts over and over. She was driving her back like that, their foreheads pressed together as she was hitting her. But Christine’s right arm was wrapped around Amanda’s waist and when she hit the wall with her back she suddenly tossed Amanda to the right with a mighty heave. She was off balance and facing away from her and before she’d recovered herself Christine had snaked her arms under her pits and clasped her hands together behind her neck, pinning her arms overhead and leaving her helpless. The redhead shook her violently from side to side, making her firm breasts wobble, and she found her breathing constricted with her chin pressed down from the immense pressure. Then Christine pointed her at the wall and drove her face-first into it, and she dragged her sideways, dragging her breasts and the side of her face along the rough wood paneling. It felt like the wall was being burned into her flesh. But when Christine pulled her back to ram her into the wall again, Amanda got her foot up and braced herself. And then with all the strength in her she pushed the both of them over backwards and they went tumbling to the floor.
They came to their feet again. ‘Come and get me, fat ass,’ Amanda taunted her.
Christine growled from somewhere deep in her chest and rushed forward, throwing a right and left. But Amanda knocked her punches aside and then grabbed her arm and wrenched it up behind her back and yanked back on her curly red hair. Christine’s chest was thrust forward and her face was pointed up at the ceiling and Amanda drove her over to the long table and slammed her down, her breasts and face landing with a thud. Then without letting go of her hair or her arm Amanda pulled her up and flung her into the wall. Christine crashed into it face first and slid down onto her knees, her giant breasts dragging down the wood paneling in a sick fashion. She stayed there, face to the wall, and Amanda kicked her squarely in the upper back, between her shoulders. Christine absorbed the blow and stirred, trying to rise. Amanda waited and then she pulled her up by the hair and the arm and spun her out into the middle of the room. Christine was standing there, her arms halfway raised up into a prize fighter’s stance and Amanda came at her. She hit her across the face with a right and a left and Christine’s arms dropped. With a grunt at each blow she was spun this way and then that, her hair trailing her, sweat flying off of both of their bodies. She was still standing, her eyes glazed over, and Amanda got in closer and threw punches into her body. Christine stumbled backward but still she did not go down. Amanda closed on her again and nailed her straight in the center of the face with a measured right and Christine went backward and fell against the shelving. She was standing between two rows, arms braced against the metal, and staring straight into Amanda’s eyes.
‘Bitch,’ Christine gasped at last.
And Amanda hit her with everything she had left, all of her feminine competitive spirit and drive. Her strong hips and thighs twisting and the muscles of her back and arms flexing, her hair flying just as wildly as Christine’s did when the blows landed home. Christine was a mess and finally, at last, a haymaker of a right landed on her chin and sent her tumbling backward into the darkness of the shelving. Amanda stood at the entry, the single electric bulb flickering weakly behind her, casting her shadow over the unconscious body down there. She could just see the outline of her bosom’s rising and falling and then she heard her cough and splutter. And when she was sure that the other woman would not rise one last time, she took the key and ascended the stairs.
“And she never came back,” Amanda said. The train was now slowing down for its arrival at the station in central Dobbinshire. As she had been telling her story, the scenery outside their window had been shifting from villages and mills to cobblestone streets and smokestacks. Now, as she finished, the metal arc with Dobbins Station stamped in white passed overhead. “I stumbled home that night and slept all the next day, but when I went back into the office, no one said anything and her desk had been cleaned out. I took her desk and her responsibilities. And everything was quiet in my life, and frankly boring, for about two months.”
“And then my father sent me to oversee the renovation of the shoppes, and I met this very intense and gorgeous woman who was managing the books all by herself,” Simone said, and she finished her tea and clasped her purse. “Ladies, we have arrived at our destination.”
