BARBARA MOORE vs STACY SANCHES
at the Foundation by Mark J.
(TRIGGER WARNING! A NASTY FIGHT, NOT A RING MATCH!)
(P.S. Plot supposes some LQBTQ stuff with people who claim to be straight.)
(Also, a continuation of a FOUNDATION series I started in MOMFIGHT webpage)
(MOMFIGHT went under a few years ago, I wrote under another name)
“Do we want to do this?” Asked Lynn Adam.
“The question,” replied the other slender and attractive light-haired woman named Lori Kelso, “is that if these two furious former lovers want to do this.”
Lori and Lynn were so much alike in body type that they looked almost like twins. The differences in facial features prevented that reality unless fraternal twins could look this close in appearance. Both a shade over five foot seven with nice rounded and tight asses added to firm breasts that were not huge but were large enough for caressing and very kissable. Anything over a mouthful was a waste was the expression used by Lori’s husband. And, smaller breasts did seem more sensitive.
The two, sometimes blonde, sometimes and another color (Lori’s had red tints in it now, to match some genes from her mother’s family) stood in their high-end matching blue women’s business suits, with matching spike high heels, called mules in other times. Their attire matched the fact they were the Co-CEOS of the WOMEN’S FOUNDATION FOR ADVANCED STUDIES AND RESEARCH. Referred in conversation as The Foundation, it was called the Catfight Club in an underworld all its own. Women from all stations of life came here to settle severe differences in the good old tradition of a knockdown and drag-out.
The one caveat was that the Foundation filmed the fights, modified the facial images via computer, and sold the brawls on the various Dark Web and ‘normal’ adult sites. The secret benefactor's original million-dollar grant had been paid back many times since. Nude, swimsuit, negligee, pantihose, the fighters chose their attire. Some fought in prom dresses or business suits. Each pair or small group of warriors had their own reasons for dressing the way they did for such nasty combat.
Lori and Lynn looked over at the two combatants.
“My husband would say they are built like brick shithouses,” Lynn said.
Lori smiled at her business partner and sometimes lover. “He does have a way with words, Lynn. Even in bed with the both of us.”
The two lovers shared Lynn’s husband, who helped use law enforcement connections to keep various agencies off their backs.
Lori looked at the photographs provided by their staff. They were of Barbara Moore and Stacy Sanches in happier days as Playmate models. Their time spent together resulted in a torrid love affair.
“Look at this photo, Lynn. Someone took this photo of them in bed.”
“They look like you and me when we are horny for some female affection.”
“So, they are either Lesbian or Bisexual like us.”
“You’re the psychiatrist and MD, Lori. You tell me.”
Lori reached over with a free hand and squeezed a shapely ass cheek.
“No panties underneath?” Lori asked with a sly smile.
“I’ll let you find out later, sweetkins. But I think it is safe to say we both like men as well as women.”
“My professional opinion is in agreement. We are Bi; they are Lesbian recently, maybe Bi as they have kids. My studies point to some very angry and violent breakups among the Lesbian community. So, we have this fight today.”
The Co-CEOS of the Foundation watched the nude rivals stretching and working their muscular bodies as they compared the nude photo of them in happier times. Both women had matching racing stripes of pubic hair pointing to the part of the body men craved. The rest of the pubic hair had been removed with waxing, so cunt hair-pulling contests were of limited value.
“Same fit bodies, same long sharp fingernails. This fight is going to be bloody, Lori.”
Lori shrugged as she watched, then answered.
“They wanted it here to keep from killing each other in public.”
“That is the one smart thing they decided. However, this is almost a no-holds-barred fight. The only limitations they agreed to were no eye-gouging, no blows to the throat, no rabbit punching, no biting off of body parts. They almost walked away when I pushed for those.”
“Did they post money for medical and legal fees, Lynn?”
“A hundred grand apiece. Adult entertainment was quite lucrative for the two women.”
“Any idea what caused this hate-filled breakup?”
“Both accused the other of cheating. One brawl was broken up at a model photoshoot already. Their publicists and agents pushed for them to settle this in private with us.”
“Huh. Barbara and Stacy will need that bond they posted after they claw the crap out of each other, break noses and jaws with knee strikes and fists.”
Lori and Lynn perused the tale of the tape.
Barbara Moore was born in 1968, Stacy Sanches was born in 1973.
Stacy 5ft 10in 130 lb 36C-24-36
Barbara 5ft 6in 110 lb 36D-24-35
“I think they both had breast augmentation operations,” Lori said.
“So if they mangle each other’s titties, they may have some internal issues.” Replied Lynn.
“Broken or punctured saline bags are not as problematical as the old silicon bags were, “ added Lori. “But nasty tit fights mean another trip to the surgeons.”
Lynn smiled then spoke.
“Smaller tits like ours can be an advantage. They are not as big a target, although a fist to the boob smashes it into the ribcage and hurts.”
“After this fight has us both hot and bothered, you want some alone time – in bed?”
As an answer, Lynn kissed Lori full on the lips and slipped some tongue into her lover’s mouth.
The two combatants had finished their warmups and stepped towards the center of the oversized recreation room. Indoor/outdoor carpet covered most of the floor, with love seats, settees, a couple of long coffee tables, and the one infamous extra-long and oversized Combat Couch. The women fighters were pushed to use the furniture in their conflicts. Many a choking straddle had occurred on the Combat Couch, with various DNA fluid adorning the cushions. Pushing one’s rival face down into the unwashed cushions was a plus.
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A tall and wide padded pillar was off one side of the room. Named the Punishment Pillar, smashing the other woman’s face, body, head into even the padding could hurt. Sometimes dildoes were hung in special recesses, allowing a woman to force anal or vaginal impalement of her rival. Or create a painful poke in the eye or mouth. Lori and Lynn both admitted the ulterior motive of some S & M action. It added to eroticism, which sells.
A special beautician also ensured the women’s fingernails were sharped to the agreed-up deadliness. The Foundation did promote clawing and biting catfights which also sell pretty well.
“Stacy has twenty pounds on Barbara and four inches about in height,” observed Lynn.
“Both have nice-sized nipples, with Stacy’s aureole being larger.”
“Makes for larger bite targets if they are more sensitive.
“Barbara is five years older and participates in professional dancing competitions. Rumors are she has had some fights before.” Replied Lori. “Sometimes it is the size of the fight in the dog, not height, weight, or reach.”
“So no bets?” Lynn asked with a grin.
“Not in a nasty, violent fight like this one. My professional opinion is the EMTs on standby may need to be called.”
Stacy and Barbara glared at each other’s oiled bodies; their hands curled into claws. The oil would reduce some gouging and clawing effects of the two women's long and sharp nails. However, everyone expected there would be blood.
“Alright, Ladies,” Lynn called out. “You know the minimal rules you agreed to for this fight. The Foundation absolves itself from all liability based on the reality that you want to tear each other apart. Still, responsible parties want to prevent a messy death or near-death crippling. So, here we are. Do you both have something to add?”
“I’m going to tear your smelly twat apart,” growled Barbara.
“My fist up your stretched-out cunt, Bitch,” Stacy spat back.
“You’re the one with the stretched-out snatch, Cunt,” replied Barbara, “from all those nights cheating on me with whores and gigolos.”
“I did not cheat; you did, Cunt. Your twat stinks of old cum and jism.”
“You liked to suck it, shitbox. Don’t deny it.”
“Until it started smelling and tasting like tuna gone bad.”
“I think your comments about sets the stage, Ladies,” added Lynn. “So, ready any time you are.”
Without warning, Barbara bum-rushed Stacy in a surprise assault. She went in low as Stacy, surprised by the shorter woman, claws at Barbara’s hair and face. Then as the nude bodies slapped into each other, Stacy screamed in pain.
Barbara’s right clawed hand gouged and scratched Stacy’s genitalia. Sharpened fingernails sliced Stacy’s crotch labia as Barbara tried to force fingers into her former lover’s love canal to impale the G-spot. The G-spot's soft and somewhat spongy flesh could be both a center of pleasure and pain. Bloody slicing fingernails could end the fight quickly.
Barbara’s left hand clawed at Stacy’s face as the taller woman went into a protective Virgin Clutch. Stacy screamed and yanked the hand from her face as she clawed with her other hand dangerously close to her rival's eyes. It was Barbara’s turn to yelp in pain and fear. However, the adult film star did not loosen her nasty grip on Stacy’s pussy.
Stacy stumbled backward as she tried to wrest the damaging sharp fingers from her vagina/vulva. The brunette’s legs bumped into the long wood coffee table set in front of the Combat Couch and toppled backward with Barbara on top of her. Barbara’s large and shapely breasts pressed under her weight onto her former lover's equally sized breasts. Nipples poked nipples which in previous circumstances would have resulted in pleasurable feelings. Today, there was a desire to inflict pain, not pleasure.
Barbara looked into her former lover’s eyes and saw pain-produced tears as she tried to force her fingers into Stacy’s pussy.
“I told you I would destroy your twat, Cunt.” The younger woman growled. Barbara had made one serious error. She did not realize being close enough to Stacy’s face to feel her breath opened her up to a vicious counterattack.
Stacy headbutted Barbara’s nose.
Barbara yelped in pain and automatically grabbed her nose with the hand clawing at her rival’s face. Her attack on the vagina vestibule paused as the eye-watering blow distracted her. The head butt did not break her nose, but it enabled Stacy to counterattack more adequately.
Stacy shoved and rolled Barbara to the left, kicking her bare shapely legs. Barbara slipped off her rival and plopped her ass first onto the carpet. No longer were her fingers in Stacy’s vulva area. Ignoring the pain in her pussy and afraid to examine it for bloody cuts, Stacy slid off of the coffee table onto her rival. Fingernails dug into her scalp and face making it Barbara’s turn to scream in pain. Stacy tried to straddle the shorter woman as Barbara reacted with a clawing attack on the taller woman’s face and throat. Then she slammed her right knee into the damaged pussy of Stacy.
“Uhhhg!” The knee produced a groan of pain. However, Stacy was a tough Texan. She grits her teeth and attacks new targets; Barbara’s giant tits.
Barbara squealed with pain as Stacy’s sharp fingernails gouged and sliced her breasts. Sharp aimed thumbnails cut into her nipples and smaller aureole, with drops of blood the results. Barbara screamed and went for Stacy’s tits with her sharp claws. They fixed equally feral stares on their opponent as they dug and gouged the once beautiful tits.
Lori and Lynn watched as the two women mangled each other mammary. Swearing, cries of pain, and screams of anger filled the room as Stracy tried to straddle Barbara and the shorter blonde kneed and kicked the light brown brunette to get her off Barbara’s body. When they were lovers, they would have been rubbing the clitoris in this position. Again, today was a day for painful attacks, not lovemaking.
“I’m going to rip your tits off, Cunt!” Stacy yelled as she tried to pin Barbara down. The flexible blonde dancer managed to bring he knees up and place her right foot in Stacy’s pussy. She then demonstrated a tactic used in women water polo teams; raking the other rival teammates with non inspected sharpened toenails.
Stacy screamed and rolled off Barbara, clutching her pussy. Barbara cradled her bloody tits as she used the coffee table to lever herself to stand. The blonde held back a sob as she saw the bloody cuts on her nipples and smaller aureola. She would not want a lover to suck on them for some time.
Stacy obtained a crouching stance and glared at Barbara through tearful eyes.
The two fighters began to circle each other as they held their respective damaged body parts.
“Ladies, calling this a draw would not be dishonorable-“ Lori began to say but was cut off in unison. “Fuck You!”
The two women charged each other, slamming their chests together. Mutual bearhugs were applied as they clawed each other’s backs and butt checks while kneeing and biting whatever body part they could. Stacy’s somewhat longer arms enabled her to jam fingers of her right hand between Barbara’s ass cheeks. The blonde screamed as sharp nailed fingers sliced her anus. She tried to push the brunette away while digging fingernails into her shoulders. Stacy spits in her face, then lifts her off the carpet. Stacy twisted about and slammed the shorter blonde onto the coffee table, which luckily did not collapse. A quick re-position and Stacy had stunned Barbara’s left leg lifted onto her shoulder. This move spread the rival’s legs apart enough for jamming two fingers in the stink and a thumb in the pink. Barbara shrieked as Stacy clamped the perineum of the blonde in a vice grip with digging fingernails.
Barbara jerked and kicked around like a Whirling Dervish to free her asshole and pussy from the pain. She punched and clawed at Stacy’s face. The brunette lifted the blonde while still maintaining the painful grip, then shoved Barbara up and over towards the Combat Couch. The blonde’s shoulders and head hit the couch shoulder, and her butt hit the floor. Stacy paused to catch her breath as Barbara now went into a virgin clutch, hands on her ass and pussy.
“Now to fuck you up,” Stacy said as she stepped towards her former lover.
Barbara suddenly twisted and planted a right foot into Stacy’s mons pubis. The blow resonated into the brunette's damaged vulva and vagina, and she stumbled back with a groan. Barbara levered herself up off the sofa and stood panting.
“Ready for me to rip your cunt apart?” She hissed.
Stacy straightened up thru sheer will.
“Come and get it, shit breath.”
Both women lunged and closed with each other. They choked and dug nails into the other’s throat, kicking and clawing with toenails. Two minds with the same thought resulted in right hands clawing clitoral hoods and mons pubis, twisting the fleshy labia into unnatural shapes.
“Their crotches are bleeding,” said Lynn. “Should a doctor stop this?”
“They asked for this; they need to finish it,” replied Lori. She squeezed her sometimes lover’s hand.
The bodies fell to the carpet as both women bit at the other face, screamed, and then separated, rolling apart. Stacy got to her feet first and lunged at Barbara rising from the floor. The brunette grabbed the blonde's mauled mammary and used them to yank her towards the Punishment Pillar. Propelled by Stacy, the blonde stumbled into the pillar. Stacy quickly had her pinned to the post on her right side. Stacy began punching the exposed right tit into the pillar.
“Your fun bags are going to burst, Cunt.”
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Stacy grabbed the left tit in a double-handed grasp and performed an Indian Arm Rub, squeezing and twisting the breast as Barbara screamed. Somehow the blonde responded with a savage cunt punch. Stacy stumbled back, holding herself. Barbara yelled and began throwing wild punches at Stacy’s large tits. The catfight turned into a fistfight.
The blonde kept closing to get past the brunette's superior reach. But Stacy was no slouch even with a damaged pussy. She slammed fists into Barbara’s tits, stomach, ovaries. The blonde grappled with Stacy, and they exchanged kidney punches in a clinch, then knees to each other’s crotches.
They stumbled apart, and both fell to the ground. The former lovers lay panting with an occasional sob.
“Cunt.”
“Whore.”
“Shiteating skank.”
A minute of insults and the women lurched to their feet. Somehow Barbara found the energy to throw roundhouse and front kicks, scoring on Stacy’s mammary and crotch. Stacy caught a foot, twisted it, and sent Barbara onto the coffee table. Stacy was on top of her in a flash. She put her knees and total weight onto Barbara’s swelling and bleeding tits. Barbara elicited a scream from Stacy when she managed to claw her rival's vagina once more, almost getting to the G-spot. Stacy fell off of Barbara and onto the carpet. The blonde somehow rolled onto her former lover, and both women began clawing faces and necks once again.
The heavier Stacy rolled Barbara onto the blonde’s back as Barbara clawed again at the genitalia. Stacy grits her teeth and returns the favor as the two women rolled and lay on their sides, staring at each other thru tear-filled eyes. Each woman grabbed a tit with her free hand, pulled it to their mouth, bit it, and tasted blood.
“Stop it now?”
“No,” Lori replied.
The women kicked apart, lay bleeding, and held damaged naughty bits. Some five minutes later, they both staggered up to standing. This time, Stacy found the energy to bum rush Barbara and knocked her over. They quickly grappled, and Barbara screamed as Stacy hammer punched her stretched-out tits against the coffee tabletop. Then Barbara was on the carpet, with Stacy on top of her in a School Yard Pin. Blood from Stacy’s nether regions left a snail trail on Barbara’s chest and lower neck. The brunette squished the blonde's face sideways into the carpet with her left hand and suspended her right thumbnail over Barbara’s wide-open left eye.
“I should gouge your eye out for what you did to my pussy,” growled Stacy. “But I signed an agreement not to scratch out eyes.”
Barbara groaned and shuddered.
“I did not cheat on you, you stupid cunt. I loved you.” Stacy sobbed. “I think I still do.”
Stacy rolled off of Barbara and lay sobbing. She was the winner, but of what? And at what price? Stacy’s vagina and vulva area ached and stung. Neither woman would be able to have any sexual relations for quite some time.
Lori and Lynn helped the bloody fighters to their feet and towards the gym locker room and attached communal shower. Fighters were expected to shower together as part of Lori's cathartic theory about this Female Fight Club. Winners and losers were to respect each other.
Lori and Lynn quickly stripped nude to assist the ravaged women in the shower. Both were having trouble standing unassisted. Lori brought in a movable tub chair and sat down while performing gynecological exams and reviewing the bloody injuries. Lynn had one of the women sit on an interior bench while Lori examined the other. Lori used her medical expertise to wash all the damaged parts gently and then apply soothing ointments to the gouges, bites, cuts, and scratches. Lynn assisted in washing the ladies’ hair. The shower water was soon tainted with red blood color.
The CEOs and experienced combatants soon had the two former lovers wrapped in soft robes and escorted to separate rooms. The Foundation was set up like a grand hotel, with singles or lovers. Thus, the badly injured could recover single or paired up with their former rival. Lori thought two women who fought each other could literally kiss and make up during a night together.
Lori and Lynn met in the communal hallway after putting Stacy and Barbara to separate beds. They had not had time to dress again, so they hugged nude.
“That was entirely too nasty, Lori.”
“It had to be done. We kept the two from killing each other at least.”
Lori looked into her business partner and sometimes lover’s eyes.
“I need some loving. From you, not from our husbands. I need to feel that women are not just nasty bitches.”
Lynn kissed her, caressed her naked bottom. Lori returned the favor, ran a finger over Lynn’s brown eye between her buttcheeks.
“Take turns with a strapless dildo?” Asked Lynn with a grin.
“Yes. Now.”
Barbara awoke to a lite knock on her room door. She groaned as she sat up. Everything seemed to hurt or ache.
“Yes?”
"It’s – Stacy. Can I come in, please? Lori and Lynn are watching us on the cameras.”
“Why? Want to gloat?”
“Please. I need – to talk.”
Barbara stood up from bed and shuffled to the door. She opened it and stood before Stacy.
“See your handiwork? I am one big cut and bruise.” Barbara said that before she focused on Stacy’s body. It was just as damaged.
“By your look, you just noticed how you beat the crap out of me,” said Stacy.
“Oh, come on in then. Why I don’t know.”
Barbara made it back to her bed and sat down with a groan. Stacy sat on the bed a foot apart. No one spoke for a minute, then Stacy broke the silence.a
“I love you, Barb. I always have, I always will. I just – lost it when I thought you cheated on me. All those rumors –“
“Which were bullshit.”
“And me cheating on you were bullshit. But we both fell for the bullshit. And we reacted like hurt jealous cunts.”
Silence. Then Barbara spoke.
“Now what?”
“We always hurt the ones we love. In this case, it was almost fatal. But my heart hurts the worse; not my tits, my pussy, my face, my ass, it’s my heart and my soul that hurts.”
Barbara sighed. Then she slid a hand over and touched Stacy’s thigh. Stacy flinched.
“Sorry. Bad bruise and gouge there.”
Barbara began to cry. Stacy joined her, and they sobbed together. A minute later, they kissed, with no embrace. Their damaged bodies hurt too much.
“Why do we hurt the ones we love?” Asked Barbara.
“Because we are nasty monkies. When we heal physically, how about we start over again?”
“Deal, lover. Now, Stacy, kiss me again. Please, with more tongue.”
Lynn slid the strapless dildo in and out of Lori, slow in, fast out. The two lovers took turns sucking on nipples and caressing breasts as Lynn porked Lori in Missionary Position.
“Think their tet de tet may show good results from the fight?” Lynn asked.
“We can hope. Now, screw those two and concentrate on fucking me. I need a screaming orgasm, lover.”
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