Barocca vs Chessika Cartwright
vs
With Summer Walker
“Barocca. Where you been hiding yourself? We were thinking maybe you were dead. Or at least retired.”
The taunt came from Chessika Cartwright. Her Cheshire Cat grin and purring tone couldn’t disguise the venom that dripped from every word. The hair on the back of Barocca’s neck instinctively stood on end. She knew the shapely sex kitten was making a thinly veiled crack about her age. She thought, “This young fluff thinks anyone over 25 is ready for the Senior Center. How naïve.”
Chessika muttered something to her girlfriends and they all giggled. “So we’re back in middle school,” Barocca sighed to herself, rolling her eyes. “These tween twits think they’re gonna have some fun with the ‘old’ lady. Let’s see how this unfolds.”
The stunningly statuesque stripper glanced over at trio of tittering tyros sitting at a table at the mall’s juice bar. She had visited the Victoria’s Secret and Frederick’s of Hollywood shops, looking for inspiration for her stage costumes. Although Barocca never bought “off the rack”, some of their wares gave her ideas she could use to keep her exotic dancing act fresh. Even though her wardrobe would be totally removed within minutes of her entrance, it was necessary to make that important first impression the moment she stepped on stage.
Chessika sat between Summer Walker and another tootsie Barocca didn’t recognize; probably the most recent in an endless string of celebrity wannabes who attach themselves to the latest shooting stars before they fizzle out. This young fluff blows through the industry like dandelion seeds, grabbing the spotlight for a few months-if they’re lucky. Then they get lazy or fat or knocked up or simply overshadowed by the next wave of high school graduates or drop-outs eager to bounce their boobies and shake their booties until the cycle repeats itself. The lucky few, those with talent and stamina, like Barocca, develop careers and a loyal following.
Chessika rephrased her question. “So whatcha been up to, Barocca? You been laying low? Or are you still working nights and sleeping all day? Maybe that’s why nobody’s seen you.” She got up and strolled toward the tall tigress, swinging her hips with just enough exaggeration to show she was mocking Barocca. She sat down at Barocca’s table without being invited and sipped her juice, leaning forward just enough to let her bountiful bosom rest on the table top.
“Well, I see you’ve finally outgrown your training bra, Chessie,” Barocca purred with an uncordial smile. “Must be all that apple juice you’ve been gulping down. Makes for some big apples.” Barocca’s bobbers hovered a few inches above the table, so she gave them a subtle shake to emphasize her point…and to demonstrate to the onlookers (and there were quite a few) that her tits were still round and firm and free to bounce.
They kept their voices low so no one could overhear their exchange of barbed insults, but the electricity in the air between them was so highly charged that it was about to give off sparks. And all but the most casual observer would have noted that their grins were forced and dripping with venom.
Back at Cartwright’s original table, Summer and her friend were straining to catch any word of the conversation, dying to know what was going on. They could see that Barocca’s hand gestures had become more insistent and that Chessika’s reactions were now more pronounced. They remained dead silent, concentrating on the two busty bombshells taunting each other until Barocca stood, gathering her purse and shopping bags. Chessika rose, muttered something in return, and headed back to Summer and her groupie.
“C’mon. Get your stuff together. We’re leaving. I got business to settle with that bitch.” Chessika snatched up her bags and started to walk away.
Summer snapped out of her stupor. “Wait, Chessika. What’s going on? Where are we going?”
“Just get in the car. That bitch Barocca is messin’ with the wrong woman. I gotta teach that old hag a lesson. You, too, Sharona. Let’s get going.” Summer and Sharona took final gulps of their drinks, grabbed their bags, and hurried after the striding Chessika.
In the parking lot, Barocca gracefully folded herself into a burgundy Thunderbird coupe with a rich tan roof and fired up its V-8. The three younger women tossed their purchases into the trunk of Summer’s silver Mustang Shelby GT500 and scrambled inside. Barocca waited patiently for them to back out and get behind her T-bird. Then the two cars headed off to a posh fitness center that catered to women only. Summer stayed right on Barocca’s back bumper.
Entering the fitness center, Barocca turned to Summer and Sharona. “You two go into that private room over there, the one marked ‘P2’, and wait for us. Chessika, you follow me.” She grabbed Cartwright’s wrist but Chessika twisted it away.
“Don’t lead me like a child, you old hen,” she snarled.
“OK, Chessie. Don’t get all cranky just because you missed your afternoon nap. Just tell Vonda here,” she continued, indicating one of the center’s staff, “what size suit you need. She’ll get you all set up. I’ll be waiting for you in the ring…if you don’t chicken out first, that is.” Barocca gave Vonda a knowing wink and got one in return. Then she disappeared into a dressing room. Summer and Sharona headed for room P2. Vonda showed Chessika to her dressing room, being extra careful not to lead her by the wrist. A few minutes later she escorted Chessika, now wrapped in a white cotton robe, to room P2.
True to her word, Barocca was laying in wait for the cocky Ms. Cartwright. The Brazilian beauty leaned in a corner of a regulation-size ring, resting her elbows on the top ropes. She wore a shimmering metallic bronze thong bikini and a pair of black wrestling boots that laced up just past her ankles. The outfit was so snug that it appeared to have been Photoshopped on. Silently she pointed Chessika to the opposite corner.
Chessika sullenly glanced at Sharona and Summer sitting on a ringside bench. She stepped to her corner and opened her robe, revealing a red and white striped thong bikini with a top just small enough to make her jumbo juggs seem even more gigantic as the overflowed the inadequate bikini cups. She also had on a pair of wrestling boots identical to Barocca’s except Chessika’s were white.
While both combatants were well rounded with perfect feminine figures, neither had an ounce of excess padding. Each was sufficiently muscular to be a formidable opponent without even the merest hint of masculinity. They eyed each other up and down carefully, simultaneously admiring and detesting each other.
Barocca laid down the rules. “One of your friends here will ring the bell. Then we’ll fight until one of us is knocked out, pinned for a 5-count, or submits. You two,” she said turning to Sharona and Summer, “will not interfere in any way. If you do, Chessika will be disqualified and I’ll win. I will anyway, but I’d prefer to win by whipping your scrawny little-girl ass. Oh, and I’ve turned on the video cameras.” Barocca pointed to the four cameras mounted in each corner of the room at the ceiling. “So if you cheat, it’ll be recorded. Any questions?”
“Yeah,” Chessica growled. “What kind of fight is this gonna be?”
“Why, I thought you understood,” Barocca purred demonically. “It’s a brawl. Anything goes. Wrestling, fists, kicks, hair-pulling, you name it. The only rule is that it’s just you and me. Your friends are only here to scrape up your carcass after I’ve done with you.”
“So ring the fuckin’ bell and let’s get this over,” Chessika spat. “I got other things to do today.”
Summer tapped the bell with the little hammer and the fight was on. Barocca circled counterclockwise, looking for an opportune opening. She knew her experience gave her a decisive edge over Chessie, who for all she knew had never fought before. But she also knew that Chessie had youthful vigor on her side and Barocca couldn’t afford to cut her any slack.
Cartwright was eager to put Barocca in her place, which was out to pasture. She was well aware that the Brazilian had been an almost unbeatable femme fighter in the late 1990s, but she also knew that Barocca had been out of the game for the past several years, doing nobody knew what. She was sure the legendary Bombshell was not up to her best and was woefully out of practice. She hadn’t shot a fight video in what…seven years? Chessika would thump her flabby ass handily. Only her ass didn’t really appear to be flabby at all. Oh well, Barocca may be a hardbody, but she was an old hardbody.
The exuberant young woman shot a foot at the veteran’s belly, but Barocca stepped aside with the grace of a torero avoiding the bull’s horn. Then she surprised Chessika by clamping her neck in a vice-like headlock. The tall tit queen added to her opponent’s anguish by punching her repeatedly in the face as she struggled to free herself. When one of Chessie’s punches nailed Barocca’s kidney, the stripper gasped and dropped to her knees, releasing the battered youngster.
Chessie had seen enough TV wrestling to know she should not allow Barocca any time to recover. She drove the flat of her white boot against Barocca’s shoulder blades and the Bombshell smashed face-first onto the mat. Summer and Sharona cheered loudly for Chessie, impressed that she had floored Barocca so early. When the lusty Latina rolled over, Chessie stomped her breasts so hard that her bronze-colored bra popped apart as shot out of the ring.
Cartwright snorted a derisive laugh and beamed at her compatriots. “I guess I ground granny into the dirt,” she sneered. “She may have been hot at one time, but now the fire’s gone out.” She stepped back to finish Barocca when the Brazilian Bombshell swept a leg out and knocked the pins from under the boastful babe. Chessie slammed down hard on her voluptuous ass with a loud thud. In an instant Barocca lashed out like a coiled spring suddenly released and Chessie found herself on her back in a classic matchbook pin, her feet up past her ears. “What the fuck-!” she exclaimed.
“Welcome to Catfighting 101,” her opponent gloated. “I’m Ms. Barocca and I’ll be your teacher. Our first lesson will be ‘Getting Pinned’.” Barocca bounced her body on the folded form of her foe and Chessika groaned from the throb in her lower spine. Supple as she was, she’d never been bent in half so tightly before, and now she knew why: the human body simply was not intended to get into this position. Barocca had her by the ankles for leverage and spread her legs as wide apart as possible. Chessie felt her thong biting into her gaping pussy as Barocca’s belly slammed again and again against her crotch.
Knowing this was not a winning move, Barocca suddenly released one leg, stood, and twisted Chessie’s other leg into a stepover leglock. Now Cartwright realized that legs were not designed to be spindled into a corkscrew shape. Barocca applied additional torque to the white boot and Chessie felt her leg going numb. Her hands slammed the mat in agonized frustration while her ringside friends screamed for her to get up and fight back. If only she could.
“The old lady’s still pretty spry, don’t you think?” Barocca chided, giving the leg another hard twist before letting go. Chessie’s leg landed like a dead weight and wouldn’t be good for standing on for quite some time. The young model gasped and tried to hide her pain, but Barocca knew all too well how much she hurt. She’d been in the same agony herself many times. She took her victim by a big handful of hair and hauled her to her feet. Chessie’s numb leg buckled immediately but Barocca kept her from tipping off her remaining good leg.
Chessie steadied herself by holding onto the top rope. Barocca cupped Cartwright’s chin with her left and fired a howitzer-blast right fist into her jaw. The neophyte fighter spun like a top on her good leg and would have gone down with a crash had Barocca not caught her. That wasn’t mercy. Barocca only wanted to set up her prey for another powerful punch. This one landed on Chessie’s left eye, which immediately swelled shut. A jab to her nose started the blood flowing. By now Summer and Sharona had fallen silent as they watched their friend and idol getting slapped around like a rag doll by the more experienced fighter.
Barocca hiptossed Chessika onto the mat where she lay motionless for several seconds. “Looks like little Chessie is all tuckered out,” Barocca observed. “Guess it’s time to tuck her in for the night.” She flopped onto the inert body, hooked a leg up, and slowly began to count. “One…two…three…four…”
“Fi-” From the depths of her being, Chessika found enough strength to buck Barocca off of her just a fraction of a second before she was counted out. No one was more surprised than the defused Bombshell. “Minor setback,” she thought, rolling easily onto her feet. She stepped directly in front of Cartwright, who was up on one knee, blood still streaming down her face.
Chessika head-butted Barocca right in her pussy. The Brazilian let out an unearthly grunt and collapsed to the mat in a writing heap, clutching her crunched crotch. Her face was contorted in agony as she gasped for breath, fighting against the pulsating throb from her femininity. From ringside Summer and Sharona squealed with delight at the sight of this stunning reversal.
Still on her knees, Chessie shuffled over to her victim and rained punches on her face and boobs. Before Barocca could roll away, Chessie had bloodied her nose, too and opened a cut on her puffy lower lip. She struggled to her feet now that both legs were functional again and was rewarded with a belly punch from the bronze-bikinied beauty. Except Barocca wasn’t very beautiful at the moment. Her entire face was now swollen, its lower half red with her own blood. Both tits were had also increased a full cup size from the pounding they’d received.
Barocca rolled onto her elbows and knees and said, "I love doggy-style. Stick it in me Kenji." He didn't need to be told twice. Anticipation had lubricated Barocca sufficiently that Kenji had no problem burying his bone all the way in her slick slit. Barocca moaned with desire as the Asian invader filled her femininity with his stiff shaft, gliding its full length along her clitoris. Kenji's cock was as thick as Sonny P's, but as straight as a laser beam.
Just as Barocca clawed at Chessie, the newbie socked her in the kisser, and all the veteran vixen got for her effort was a handful of Cartwright’s peppermint-striped bra. Chessika’s jaunty juggs jounced mockingly in Barocca’s face while her own hammered hooters ached. Chessie clamped on a reverse headlock and began kneeing Barocca’s bazookas until the dilapidated dancer went limp, at which point Chessie dropped her in a heap on the mat.
Smelling an upset victory in the air, Cartwright dragged her prey in center ring and laid her out spread-eagle on her back. Barocca barely stirred. Reverting again to TV wrestling, Chessie aimed an elbow smash directly at Barocca’s throat. Instead her elbow smashed against the mat after the battered Brazilian jerked away at the last possible moment. A shockwave shot up through Chessie’s right arm an instant before she felt Barocca’s long, strong legs entwine around her neck.
Although the upper half of her magnificent body was badly beaten, Barocca’s legs still worked perfectly as she tightened her python-like grip on Chessika’s neck, choking the busty babe to near unconsciousness. The Bombshell thought, “This bitch is pretty good. Strong. Thank God she isn’t experienced or she’d’ve beaten me senseless. But skill and cunning will always triumph over youth and enthusiasm.”
Before Chessie passed out completely, Barocca eased off her choke hold and stood. She collected the flaccid fox and lifted Chessika in preparation for a grand finale bodyslam. The effort staggered the stripper back a few steps, but she managed to keep her balance. With relief Barocca dropped her nemesis rather than slammed her, then fell across Chessie’s body for the pin.
One…two…three…four…five.
It was finally over. Chessika Cartwright was out cold, oblivious to the defeat she’d just suffered at the hands of an exhausted and blood-soaked Barocca.
As the Brazilian Bombshell panted on all-fours, Summer Walker ran over to the edge of the ring. “You fuckin’ bitch!” she screamed. “You’re not getting away with that shit. I demand revenge for my friend Chessika. You meet me here tomorrow, you fuckin’ cunt. And bring your boxing gloves. I’m gonna pound you down into the floor.”
Barocca groaned. But she had no option but to accept Summer’s challenge. She knew that she wouldn’t be anywhere near recovered from this beating by tomorrow afternoon. And Summer was all fired up with adrenaline and righteous indignation.
“OK, Summer,” she gasped. “I’ll meet you tomorrow night. Right here. And bring a friend to help you home.”
“What have I got myself into?” Barocca thought as she dragged herself out of the ring and off to the shower. “She’ll clobber me for certain.”
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TO CHESSIKA CARTWRIGHT
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