So, I wrote up the fight between Dawn and Charole from Bunduki that we never got.
Dawn Drummond-Clayton stood at the edge of the ruins of the estate built by some forgotten civilization. She had reddish-brown hair, hanging in loose curls down to her ears framing her classically beautiful face, with her clear, intelligent green eyes and the prominent lines of her cheeks and jaw. Her skin was bronzed from her time spent outside. She had been an outgoing girl and an accomplished athlete her entire life, and it showed on her skin and the firm tone of her powerful body. She stood five foot eight, and she had a stunning figure with a 38 inch bust, a 25 inch waist, and 36 inch hips. She had been running for half an hour and she was drenched in sweat and breathing hard. She was wearing nothing but a pair of brief shorts made of leather, stretched tight across the sensuous curves of her lower body, and a sleeveless cloth shirt. The shirt had been ripped during her run through the jungle and it was open across the middle to expose her flat stomach and the undercurve of her breasts. With her statuesque figure and her commanding face she was the embodiment of a savage and timeless feminine pulchritude.
The wreck in front of her looked like a medieval castle, with broken stone towers and weeds hanging from the open windows. At the bottom of the dead castle would be the Ry-Ceene, the golden statue of a panther that had been lost for centuries. Dawn and her man Bunduki had learned of its location and they set off with a party of villagers from Huell to recover it. That morning, they had been attacked by Mun-Gatah riders. The Huell fought them off, but they lost half of their people and in the attack one of the riders had struck Bunduki in the head with a rock and knocked him unconscious. Dawn had seen it happen; the rock had been thrown by Charole, the beautiful woman who had led the attack. She was a commander of the Mun-Gatah and she had tried to run down Dawn and Bunduki since they had arrived in this other world. Dawn had learned from the Huell that Charole had been groomed as a leader of the Mun-Gatah and that she and her forces had tormented them for years. Although they had defeated the Mun-Gatah raiders, Charole escaped on foot. Being so near their goal, and with such casualties, Dawn had decided that she would go to the ruins on her own and that the Huell would take Bunduki and move to the temporary safety of a new camp.
Dawn started her search at the top of the ruins and made her way down floor by floor. The bow she left on the first floor and her knife she carried in hand. She had cleared the second floor and she stood looking through a full-size window at the courtyard below her. From above she could see that the bricks of the wall did not align properly, as if one section had been built later. That was where the Ry-Ceene would be, if it was here at all. With a smug look on her face, thinking of how Charole would be punished when she returned empty-handed to the Mun-Gatah leaders, Dawn turned to head down the stairs. Charole was halfway up the stairs when Dawn started down and the two women stared hard at each other for an instant. Charole was carrying her spear in one hand but she dropped it and with a howl she sprinted up the stairs and driving her shoulder into Dawn’s chest she bore the other women up and through the window. Both women landed in the dirt in the courtyard.
They each lay stunned in the dirt some yards away from each other and then at last they stirred and rose to their feet. Charole was five foot nine, and she had a 39 inch chest, 24 inch waist, and 37 inch hips, and every bit of her was a highly capable woman of speed and strength. She was about five years older than Dawn’s 20, and her shoulder-length black hair framed a shockingly beautiful face. She was of dark complexion, and her full lips, her black eyes, and her prominent cheekbones conveyed a cruel and imperious nature. She wore a bikini bottom and over it a leather skirt that barely came down below the sweet curve of her hips, and on top was a halter that had been ripped open in the fall and she tossed it aside to reveal her full, firm bosom topped by large, nearly black areolae. Dawn shrugged off her ruined shirt and let it fall in the dirt at her feet to reveal her own chest, nearly as large as Charole’s and equally firm. Their magnificent breasts swayed, their legs and asses tensed as they circled each other, the one a reddish-brown lioness and the other a sable tiger.
“Are you alone?” Charole asked in a voice that was simultaneously domineering and sultry. “Your man isn’t here to protect you?”
“No man in the world could protect you from me.”
“You’ve been a pain in my ass since you arrived. Since the Quagga god can’t stamp you down, you foreign bitch, I’ll have to,” Charole replied.
The women flew at each other. They collided, hands around each other’s backs, gripping madly as they turned in circles in the dirt struggling with each other. Dawn wrenched her to the side but Charole stayed upright and then with a flash Charole twisted her hips and flipped Dawn over her back and into the dirt. Charole landed on top of her and then laying with her across her got her in a side headlock. Charole squeezed her head and pulled up and Dawn’s face was mashed into the side of her breast. Dawn grabbed her hair and yanked but she found no respite from the tremendous pressure on her head and throat and then she turned her face and sucking in a mouthful of her boob she bit down. Charole howled in pain and releasing her rolled away, holding her injured breast. The women were facing each other, Charole sitting on her haunches and Dawn on her hands and knees and then Dawn threw herself at the other woman. The wet hard meaty sound of their bodies smacking together and then they were in the dirt, chests and legs pressed together. They turned over each other as they wrestled in primitive fury. Both women grunted in pain as they pulled hair, slapped and hit each other, and mauled each other’s large vulnerable breasts. At one point Charole was on top with her hands plunged into her breasts and Dawn locked her legs around her waist and pulled the hands free. And then at another point Dawn was on top, digging into Charole’s breast with one hand and holding down her head with the other. And over and over they tumbled in their raucous violence, clad only in their brief leather bottoms, their skin and mass and their beauty grinding together.
They came to their feet holding on to each other and then they let go at the same time. Dawn hit her across the face but Charole hit her back with a right and left. Dawn stumbled back and Charole kicked her in the stomach and as she bent over Charole hit her in the face with an uppercut. Dawn flew back into a stone wall. As she stood upright Charole threw straight punches into her breasts. Dawn moaned in pain but she took another punch coming forward and she hit Charole in the face. Dawn was staggering but she kept herself facing Charole as the olive-skinned beauty tracked her. Dawn missed with a punch and Charole hit her in the side and then she kicked her in the thigh and then Charole slapped her across the face. The force of the blow spun Dawn around and put her on her hands and knees. Then Charole leapt onto her back. Dawn struggled to get free but then Charole had her strong legs around her waist and her arm across her neck. Charole rolled so that both women were on their sides, Dawn facing away from her, and she choked her. Dawn suffered and she pried at the legs and then at the arm across her throat but Charole held on. Her lungs burned and ached. At last Dawn elbowed Charole and then creating space rotated so that her back was toward the ground. That broke Charole’s hold on her neck and then Dawn kept turning and sank her teeth into the giant breast in front of her.
Again Charole howled but this time Dawn held on. Charole turned away and Dawn followed her. As Charole folded her hands over her twice-bitten chest Dawn climbed on top of her. Seizing her hair in both hands she slammed the black-haired beauty’s head on the ground and then when she lay stunned under her Dawn slapped her face over and over with rights and lefts. Dawn was still exhausted from the choke, though, and when she slowed down Charole threw up her hips and rolled free of her. The women came to their feet again, more slowly now, panting for breath. The dirt had smeared itself with the sweat and coated the fighting women, poured over their feminine curves and their feline power. They stood staring at each other and then they came together again. Without any defense they slapped each other in the face, slowly, gasping for breath and barely able to keep their feet. Around the courtyard they stumbled, one with the upper hand and then the other, the short reddish-brown hair of the one and the black hair of the other whirling through the air. After she nailed Charole with a vicious slap Dawn put her head down and rammed it into Charole’s chest, wrapping her arms around her and ramming her into the wall. Charole was hurt but she grabbed onto Dawn in a front headlock and sank her teeth into her shoulder. Dawn grunted and at first she tried to pull the arm off her throat but then she pulled back and then drove Charole into the wall, over and over again, and at last the arm around her throat went loose and then Dawn kept ramming her shoulder into her torso and her body into the wall. And then Dawn stood up straight. Charole was leaning against the wall, gasping, and with her last strength she grabbed hold of Dawn’s hair. And in her selfsame exhaustion Dawn grabbed her hair as well and leaned against her. But Dawn with the thought of finally beating this woman drove uppercut punches into her breasts and when Charole let go of her hair and covered herself Dawn slugged her across the jaw with all she had left and Charole fell motionless into the dirt at her feet. And then Dawn planted her foot atop Charole’s chest and stood over her, looking down, and with a supreme effort went to search for the secret latch to the wall that hid her treasure, the golden panther that would forever symbolize her victory.
