Justine was a big woman, 5-8, 155 pounds and 38D-27-40 with close-cropped red hair. I said she was big but she wasn't fat, just solid. Her size came in handy, because she tended bar at a little club in rural Southern West Virginia where her brother Bobby sang in the band. Bobby, 25, was three years younger than Justine and it was one reason why she'd always been protective of him. The other was that Bobby wasn't real bright, being what I call slow. But he was also good-lookin' and had a great voice. The girls went wild over him, especially on Friday and Saturday nights when the girls from local colleges as well as the near-by mills and factories gathered at the stage to throw their panties and other items on the stage for Bobby.

Most of the time, the panties were accompanied by notes pleading for dates. That's where Justine came in. She'd taken care of Bobby since their parents died when they were teenagers. She didn't like the way those floozies threw themselves at her brother and the fact that he didn't understand what they wanted only made it worse.

Over the years, Justine had developed a simple rule: any girl who beat her could go out with Bobby. In the six years I'd known him, Bobby hadn't had a date yet. I'd been out with Justine a couple of times and thought we might get serious, but she wouldn't leave Bobby. She said we might get serious, but not until Bobby was married to someone who'd take as good care of him as she did.

I drove a truck for a living and it took me to a lot of out-of-the-way towns. I'd dropped off a load in a small town in southern Georgia and was having a beer in a local joint when I met Dusty. She was bigger than Justine, 5-10 and 170 pounds of firm woman-flesh. She'd developed her 42C-33-42 body during ten years in the Marines followed by five years of working on a warehouse loading dock. At 33, she still had a face like a teenager and usually wore her blonde hair in a French Twist.

After a few beers, I took Dusty back to my motel room and we made love for hours. She was great and I couldn't wait to get back to see her again on my next run! It was over a month before I saw her again and in the meantime I'd talked to Justine again about marriage. As before, she refused to discuss it as long as Bobby needed her. That's when I got my great idea.

After Dusty and I renewed acquaintances, I got right to the point. I showed her a picture of Justine and Bobby and when I told her about Bobby's singing career she looked interested, 'He's really got a good voice, you say?' I nodded and told her I thought he was, '... good enough to make big money in Nashville, with the right manager.' She bent forward eagerly and I eyed her full breasts as I repeated the statement. 'There's just one catch,' I said, setting the hook. Dusty took it hook, line and sinker, 'Whadda ya' mean, catch?'

'See the chick? She's his sister. She won't let him go out with anyone who's not tough enough to beat her in a fight.' Dusty took the picture and studied Justine's face. 'How good is she?' she asked. 'I've been there six years,' I said, 'and she ain't lost a fight. Of course, most of the gals have either been out-of-shape drunks or college gals who don't know what they're doing. Why, do you think you could take her?' She chuckled, 'Never met a gal yet I couldn't lick, so to speak.'

That's how I convinced Dusty to quit her job at the warehouse and come North with me. She wasn't stupid, either. She called a friend of hers from the Marines and asked her to meet us. When I saw Donna I realized why Dusty called her. Donna was compactly built, a light-skinned black woman who must have been nearly 40, but she was also 5-8 and 150 muscular pounds. Dusty said Donna had been a drill sergeant at Parris Island. 'I seen her whip the asses of a lot of tough chicks,' Dusty grinned.

Dusty's plan was for Donna to challenge Justine. She didn't care if Donna won or not, she just wanted her to soften Justine up while giving her a chance to see how Justine fought before she took her on herself. Like a fool, I believed her.

As planned, Donna showed up in skin-tight Levi's and a muscle shirt that showed off her powerful arms. She wanted Justine to be sure she knew what she was getting into before they fought. She pushed her way up to the stage and boldly threw a pair of panties onstage with her room key attached. When Justine saw that, she shoved and bullied her way over to Donna and told her to get lost. There wasn't much talking before they started wailing on each other and in no time at all, they were rolling on the floor pulling hair and tearing clothes.

Donna didn't try to defend herself, Dusty had told her just to concentrate her attack on Justine's big breasts and, like a good Marine, she followed orders. She not only landed punches to Justine's chest, she kicked her a couple of times when they were rolling on the floor and once even managed to bite her hard enough that Justine let out a scream. In spite of Donna's training and experience, she was fifteen years older than Justine and the big woman eventually wore her down. Both women's bosoms were exposed and Donna had a busted lip from the powerful punch Justine landed that put her down just before the end. Both of Donna's eyes were swollen as well, but Justine's big, pale breasts were bloody and bruised from Donna's relentless assault on her.

After a long, painful fight, Justine gained the upper hand and managed to get the gasping Donna down on her belly in a hammerlock which she augmented by grabbing a big handful of her dark hair. She couldn't break out of it and when Justine levered her arm high enough that it was about to break, she gave up. Justine lifted Donna to her feet and gave her the bums rush out the front door, sending her flying into the street outside on her belly. Dusty and I rushed out to help her up and I helped her to her motel room and held her while she showered her aching, yet still magnificent body.

The next night, just as Bobby was starting his first set, Dusty came busting through the front door and walked right up to the stage where she jumped up in front of everyone and stuffed a motel room key into Bobby's jeans. It was a challenge that was so blatant Justine couldn't miss it. I saw Justine wince as she climbed over the bar to go after Dusty and I really felt sorry for her. As soon as Dusty saw her coming, she kicked aside a couple of chairs and charged Justine.

It was a magnificent fight while it lasted. Two big, powerful women locked in combat, struggling toe-to-toe for dominance. Whenever she could, Dusty went after Justine's big boobs. Dusty may have won the fight anyway, she was that good, but after the damage Justine had absorbed from Donna the night before, the big redhead had no chance, but that didn't keep her from battling fiercely right to the end. Both women were reduced to rags by the fight's end. When Justine went down for the fifth and last time, to show her complete domination, Dusty dragged Justine's groggy body over her knee and paddled her ass until she wept.

Dusty took Bobby out that night and apparently they got along well. A couple of nights later, Dusty and Donna came in together and walked right up to the stage where they handed their motel keys to Bobby. Justine couldn't ignore the women's challenge and came out from behind the bar. This time, Dusty took her time and instead of just beating Justine, she stripped her naked and squatted on her face. She forced Justine to lick her pussy while more than a hundred customers and Bobby watched in stunned silence. At the same time, Donna was going down on poor Justine from below.

They left Justine laying face down in the sawdust, bloody, beaten, battered and sucked as dry as a prune and took Bobby back to their motel where Dusty fucked him all night. The local women had waited years to see Justine get what she deserved and they stood on watching in respectful awe while the two strangers humiliated her. When Dusty was through with Justine, the local gals began to beat and kick the defeated redhead. If I hadn't rescued her from the mob's clutches, they might have killed her.

The next night, Dusty came back again only this time, she was accompanied by the bar owner. 'I'm sorry Justine,' he said without sounding sorry, 'but Dusty thinks she'd make a better bartender than you. She offered to fight you if you want to keep your job.' Justine tried to maintain her dignity, but she couldn't and still refuse to fight. As she turned to leave, Dusty clamped a big hand on one of Justine's breasts and stopped her in her tracks. 'I'll need a sub while me and Bobby are on our honeymoon, sweetie. You interested?'

The joke ended up being on me. It seems that when Dusty and Bobby got back from their honeymoon, they moved in with Justine. Bobby was so busy with his music, he didn't seem to care that Dusty spent more time in the sack with Justine than she did with him. They're all still there, Bobby singing with his band and Dusty and Justine tending bar. They still fight with some of the women customers, but instead of fighting for Bobby, they fight to see who gets to take the unlucky loser to bed.

I'm living in Georgia now with Donna. She and I got friendly after her loss to Justine and she's become my sweet, wonderful, loving wife. I still drive a truck and whenever I drive up toward West Virginia, Donna insists that she go along. She's fought Justine three times since the first fight and won once. I hate seeing it, because after she beats her, Justine drags Donna off to spend the night with her and Dusty. But that's the way Donna wants it and I'm willing to give her every chance to beat Justine if that's what it takes to keep her happy.

The End