The night of the match arrived and a large and festive gathering of some of the West Coast's biggest movers and shakers assembled at a luxurious Bel-Air home where the match would take place. Such was Michelle's burgeoning reputation as a catfighter that men and women of privilege and power willingly rearranged their schedules to be in attendance at her battles. Both girls mingled with the crowd early in the evening, each taking care to give the other a wide berth. As yet they had no personal enmity toward on another, but each was keenly aware it was vital she maintain a proper frame of mind about her opponent and interacting before their fight may cause them to alter their mind-set, potentially losing a bit of her edge.
Still, Michelle made a point of sizing up Brittany as best she could. She was amused by Brittany's appearance for where Michelle wore plain jeans and a simple velour top, the blonde was decked out in a flower print party dress that made her look as if she’d come straight off the set of a Gidget movie...or her own TV show! Far less amusing was the seeming 'good girl' naiveté of the blonde, whose bubbling personality was winning the hearts of many spectators. Brittany had them eating out of her hand, but Michelle saw through her act and understood she was putting on a show!
There was certainly no doubt Brittany is quite a good actress and Michelle had to admit she was feeling a twinge of green-eyed jealousy. Ordinarily, Michelle was the crowd favorite, and so many of her opponents tended to be such smug bitches the spectators naturally gave their support and sympathy to the cheerful brunette. So watching Brittany steal her thunder rankled more than a little...which, Michelle realized, was precisely what Brittany had no doubt hoped; to throw the brunette off her game. So, she's a good actress AND a smart strategist, Michelle mused. The only question left is, was Brittany also a tough fighter?
As the scheduled hour for the start of the match approached, both young women were led away to separate bedrooms just off the main living area where the battle would be held. As they prepared themselves, each did some calisthenics to loosen up and get the adrenaline flowing and changed into their bikinis. When they each re-entered the living room, the spectators gave them an appreciative round of applause. Michelle was in a burgundy bikini which contrasted nicely with her chestnut brown mane, flattered her modest but firm breasts and highlighted her much-admired derriere. Brittany, still playing the role of the coquette, wore a slightly old-fashioned white cotton bikini adorned with pastel flowers. The two-piece also served to ably display a figure of which Brittany could be as justifiably proud of as Michelle was of hers.
The ombudsman went over what few rules there are; the match would be somewhat unusual in that it was a best of three falls fight instead of a single fall. This was done for no other reason than to provide the spectators with a novelty - as well as (hopefully) a longer and more spirited show as the combatants would take a brief rest between falls, giving both time to recouperate. As always a fall was decided when one woman submitted or the ombudsman declared she could no longer continue.
Michelle didn't mind at all, "Just means I get to beat her twice instead of just once!"
The pair cautiously began to circle, each searching for an opening. Michelle's face was a mask of steely concentration, whereas Brittany seemed to have an almost indifferent air about her, with a small, arrogant smile on her lips. Michelle instantly decided that she didn't like anything about her cocky opponent, and that she was going to enjoy wiping that smile off of the blonde's face.
Finally, they drew close enough for Michelle to suddenly move with a viper's speed, snaring her opponent in a side headlock. Brittany grunted as the brunette cranked up the pressure, and before the blonde could formulate some plan of escape, Michelle suddenly hip-tossed her to the floor. Brittany smartly rolled with her momentum and sprang back to her feet, but the smile was gone from her face. Now it was Michelle's turn to grin smugly.
Throwing caution to the wind, Brittany rushed at her opponent. Michelle was briefly surprised by the tactic, but as the sound of their bodies colliding rang throughout the room, the brunette was ready for her. What she wasn't ready was for Brittany to reach behind her and grab Michelle's long brown ponytail, yanking it back so as to tilt Michelle's head enough to leave her throat exposed to a finger thrust. The brunette clutched at her throat, gagging from the strike to her esophagus. That gave Brittany the opening she needed to grab her rival by the wrist and twist her arm up and behind, jacking it up hard between Michelle's shoulder blades. Michelle yelped from the searing pain in her shoulder, but her attempts to reach behind herself and grab the blonde with her free hand met with no success. Worse still for the brunette, Brittany was sinisterly bending her fingers backwards, threatening to break each digit. But experience borne of a dozen brutal battles gave Michelle an edge.
At precisely the instant when Brittany lessened the pressure on the hammerlock slightly so as to better wrench the arm upwards again, Michelle artfully spun her body, breaking the hold. Ignoring the pain in both her hand and her shoulder, the brunette grabbed Brittany by her own wrist and twisted her arm. The blonde winced from the sudden pain, then let out a pitiful yowl when her opponent, feeling vindictive over having her own fingers twisted, does likewise to her opponent.
The chorus of disgruntled boo's which arise from the spectators stunned Michelle. She’d heard many of her opponents jeered that way in past matches, but never before had SHE been the target of such scorn. It took her several shocked moments to realize the reason why: In this fight, Brittany had cannily made herself the crowd's favorite. What's more, the spectators had not seen what the blonde had done to Michelle's hand; all they saw was Michelle doing it, apparently without provocation. Brittany completed the frame-up neatly by investing as much agony into the sound of her mewling as possible, making it seem as if the brunette was doing nothing less than torturing her beyond all necessity.
What this meant was that Brittany could get away with anything short of murder now, because in the eyes of the spectators, she would only be returning fire with fire. Michelle revised her earlier assessment of her foe: Brittany wasn't a smart strategist...she was a genius!
Inevitably, the brunette became distracted, and that gave Brittany the chance she needed. The blonde stomped the heel of her foot down hard across her opponent's bare right foot, eliciting a shriek from Michelle. Brittany tore free of her rival's grasp, with a smattering of applause and verbal encouragement from the audience as her reward.
The two beauties separated and circled one another, each licking her wounds. Michelle stared daggers at her opponent. The smug smile had returned to Brittany's face, and she gave her opponent a taunting wink, further infuriating the brunette. With a warrior's growl, Michelle flung herself at the blonde. Brittany held her ground as they slammed together, and the two wildcats struggled for control, stumbling across the carpet as their hands slapped and clawed at one another. At one point, Michelle's hand was across Brittany's face, trying to force her head back. Suddenly, Brittany let loose with a bloodcurdling scream and tore free from Michelle's grasp.
"MY EYES!!!" she screeched, bringing her own hands up to her face as if to shield herself from further harm.
The booing was bone-jarring now. Although, theoretically, anything is fair game in a catfight, it’s widely understood the combatants should resist the temptation to seriously, perhaps permanently, injure one another. By this light, the eyes are off limits as a target. Never mind the fact that Michelle hadn't done a thing to Brittany's eyes; the blonde had cunningly crafted a role for herself...virginal ingénue...and she played it to the hilt! Michelle had been recast as the villain of this melodrama whether she wanted the role or not. That didn't stop the brunette from trying to change the script, however.
"She's a liar!" she pleaded with the crowd.
The unforgiving looks on the faces of many of the spectators made it clear they weren't ready to believe her, and Michelle was prepared to argue her case with them. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten that in a battle such like this, the opinion of the masses means nothing; the only important thing is to beat your opponent and distracting attention from Brittany was the absolute last thing Michelle should’ve done!
She was reminded of the error of her ways by a double-handed blow to the base of her skull, stunning the brunette. Michelle then felt Brittany wrap her arm across the front of her throat, securing her in a reverse headlock. Bending her victim backwards at the waist, Brittany left Michelle's abdomen wide open to attack, which the blonde did with malicious glee, sledgehammering her fist into Michelle's belly again and again.
Finally released of the hold, Michelle doubled over at the waist with a groan, her arms wrapped across her aching stomach. An elbow drilled into the back of her head brought her down to one knee, and a knee lift from the blonde, smashing squarely into Michelle's forehead, sent her sprawling backwards to the carpet.
Brittany stood over her fallen foe, feet planted on either side, facing down towards Michelle's feet. Brittany then dropped herself down hard atop her opponent, her butt bearing her full weight upon Michelle's chest, forcing the air from the brunette's lung with a horrid gasp. The blonde raised her hands in the air like a concert pianist about to strike the keyboard, her slender fingers like stiletto knives. Brittany then plunged her fingers into Michelle's stomach, clawing the abdominal muscles like a baker kneading dough.
The hapless brunette squirmed and whimpered, the pain in her belly preventing her lungs from drawing a decent breath of air. Her hands flailed, slapping weakly at the woman atop her, but with no effect. Still, she was experienced enough to know that all hope was not lost. If she could withstand this attack, there was still a hope that she could recover and go back on the offensive.
But while Brittany may have been a rookie catfighter, she continued to display a native brilliance for the essentials of combat. She likewise realized that Michelle was far from finished, but she was not about to give the brunette the slightest chance of recovering and attacking anew. She would go for the kill now. Without warning, Brittany released her claw and brought her body back up her foe's figure. Through glazed eyes, Michelle saw what was happening and instinctively gasped, "Nooooo!" A mistake that cost her what precious little oxygen she had left in her lungs.
An instant later, Brittany planted her rear end firmly across Michelle’s face, smothering her. Acting on instinct, Michelle brought her legs up in hopes of snaring her tormentor and pulling her off…a move born of sheer panic and one that proved to be another - this time fatal - mistake!
Instead of locking themselves around the blonde, Michelle's legs were caught in Brittany's grasp, and she held them upright so as to deny Michelle any leverage to try and escape. A frightening tableau now unfolded as Brittany dropped her innocuous façade; the expression on her face making it clear she was taking supreme enjoyment in this moment. Not only was she reducing her enemy to helpless oblivion, but she was humiliating Michelle beyond measure in the process.
The nefarious laugh that slipped through the blonde's lips was chilling to the spectators. Michelle couldn't hear it. Already suffocated to the point of unconsciousness, the rush of blood pounding in her ears, she could no longer command her body to make even the most feeble act of resistance. When Brittany let her legs go, they flopped to the floor like dead things. Still, the blonde didn’t rise but continued to smother Michelle long past the point it became painfully obvious she was no longer conscious. There was no strategic value in it...Brittany simply enjoyed the torture too much to stop until she was made to. She began to seductively sway her hips back and forth, further grinding her butt into her victim's face, further taunting Michelle for her helplessness.
Finally, the ombudsman stood up from his chair and, in a firm voice that would brook no resistance, commanded, "Enough!"
Brittany pushed herself up on her knees, then rose to her feet over Michelle's body which reflexively gulped in air. The blonde gave an exaggerated pout, as if she’d been denied permission to play with her favorite Barbie doll. But the smile quickly returned to her face and she looked for all the world like the kind-hearted young girl so many had believed her to be. But now her guise was tinged with a dark evil. First fall to Brittany Snow!
The ombudsman gently picked Michelle up in her arms, her body as limp as a rag doll, and he gingerly carried her over to a corner of the room, cautiously laying her down on the carpet. Another spectator, a physician, handed him a vial of smelling salts. The ombudsman waved the small bottle under Michelle's nose, and after several seconds, she awoke with a start. It took another thirty seconds before the brunette had enough presence of mind to be able to understand what he was saying to her and to reply.
"Michelle?" he said. "Are you able to make the second fall? If not, tell me and I'll end this now."
"I'm...not giving...up," she gasped between breaths.
Although against his better judgment, the ombudsmen nodded. So long as the brunette was conscious and able to make her own decisions, he was required to allow the match to continue. Standing up, he said, "You have two minutes before the start of the next round."
Those two minutes came far too fast. It was all Michelle could do to lean against the wall and get to her feet. Her mouth hung slack and her heavily-lidded eyes were still glassy as the signal to begin the second round was given. Gamely, the brunette forced herself to walk to the center of the room, fists raised and ready to go down fighting. Brittany haughtily sauntered towards the brunette out of her corner.
"Oh, how cute!" Brittany cooed. "You actually still think you can win."
"Can, and will!" Michelle hissed through gritted teeth.
The blonde's only verbal response was an arrogant chuckle. But her real reply came from the flash of her leg as she launched a kick that caught her target low in the belly. That doubled Michelle over with a grunt. Brittany then swung her right arm, catching the brunette flush in the mouth with an uppercut.
Michelle's upper body snapped upright as her head shot backwards with a spray of perspiration, but she refused to fall...although her legs were clearly straining to keep her standing.
Those legs were quickly sent stumbling backwards as Brittany, not giving her rival a moment's respite, began to deliver backhanded slaps one after the other to Michelle's face and chest. The brunette tried to ward off the blows with her hands, but her reflexes remained a moment too slow throughout as the barrage continued, until finally Michelle's back hit the wall. A cruel smile curled up on the blonde's lips and, displaying a martial artist's skill, she lifted her left leg, held it aloft poised to strike for several seconds...the better to build the drama...and then she lashed out. The sole of her foot smashed into Michelle's throat, then stayed there. Holding her leg in place, Brittany effectively strangled her opponent.
Michelle desperately clutched at the blonde's ankle, trying without success to pry her foot away, while Brittany said almost nonchalantly, "Just so you're clear, you will be losing this fight tonight. But before that happens, I'm going to have some more fun." And with that, she released her choke hold. Michelle sank to her knees, panting for breath.
Grabbing her foe by her ponytail, Brittany dragged her to the center of the room, forcing Michelle to scuttle behind her on her hands and knees. Then, still holding Michelle by the hair, she lifted her head so that the two combatants could lock eyes. Brittany smirked at her seemingly hapless opponent, savoring her inevitable triumph.
Unfortunately for the blond, she savored just a bit too long, and she was caught by surprise as the brunette threw a fist deep into her rival's belly. Brittany grunted from the blow, and doubled over as Michelle drove a second punch into her stomach. But before Michelle could press her attack, Brittany drove a knee into the brunette's jaw, sending her sprawling backward onto the floor where she lay dazed.
Brittany groaned and massaged her abdomen, the smirk on her face now replaced by a mask of anger as she hissed, "You've been a very naughty little girl, and you need to take your punishment!"
From the vicious gleam in the blonde's blue eyes, it was plain that such punishment would do more than pain...it would humiliate as well! Dropping to one knee, Brittany grabbed her stunned foe by the hair and hauled her up until the brunette was draped on her stomach over the other extended leg of the blond. Brittany grabbed Michelle's panties and yanked them down, exposing her derriere, then with a malicious grin she then began to rain down spanks on her butt! The spanking quickly turned the pale skin a bright, glowing red! Tears ran down Michelle's cheeks and she yelped and whimpered from the spanking, but she lacked the strength to break free.
Finally tiring of the torment, Brittany roughly shoved her opponent off of her knee, and Michelle curled up on the carpet, sobbing. Rising to her feet, Brittany stalked around her fallen foe with a mien of utter contempt, "You're nothing, bitch! Beg for mercy, and I'll finish you off quick. Otherwise, I'll make you wish you'd never been born!" she sneered.
The spectators were shocked; never before had they seen Michelle so seemingly helpless. They were further shocked...as was Brittany a moment later...when Michelle's right leg suddenly flashed out, catching the startled blond in the calves and sweeping her to the floor. Then, before the shocked Brittany could fathom what had happened, Michelle sprang into action and in a blur of motion, rolled Brittany over onto her belly, straddled her, grabbed her legs and leaned back in a crude-yet-effective Boston Crab!
Brittany's incredulity was suddenly swept aside by the jolt of pain that ran up her spine. She shrieked and squealed, her fists pounding the carpet, but the pain would not subside. It felt for all the world as if her back would break...and it's entirely possible that was Michelle's intent.
Brittany endured the agony for over a minute before she growled an unwilling, "I give!"
It was several seconds more before Michelle released the hold. Then, wordlessly, the brunette walked to her corner of the room to await the third and final fall, pulling up her panties as she walked and restoring her dignity.
Brittany spent the first half of the two minute respite resting on the floor, a hand rubbing her throbbing lower back... Then, with obvious discomfort, she got to her feet and went to her side of the room. She had victory within her grasp, but she had stupidly given her opponent the opportunity to fight back. She wouldn't make that mistake again!
Despite the beating she’d suffered, Michelle's body was alive with power as her adrenaline pumped. Every nerve was alert as the signal for the third and deciding fall was given, and she moved with a panther's grace as she stepped toward her opponent.
Brittany's movements betrayed her fury, but the anger and the pain she felt helped focus her thoughts into a single laser point of controlled intensity, every last bit of it devoted to beating and destroying the young woman before her. The crowd felt the electric current that passed between the two warriors, and they were mesmerized.
They did not charge at one another, but when they were close enough, they probed for openings. Suddenly, Michelle managed to flip Brittany over with an expert hip roll, and the brunette was on her fallen foe in a heartbeat's time, hands punching, clawing and wrenching at every vulnerable spot on the blonde's body they could find. Brittany mewled, trying to blunt the assault as best she could with her arms, but she knew she had put a stop to the onslaught quickly, or she was doomed. Her moment came in the instant when Michelle leaned in too far to her side while also lowering her defenses for an instant; without hesitation, Brittany brought her leg up, so that her knee slammed into the side of Michelle's face. That stunned the brunette long enough for Brittany to roll to safety on the far side of the spacious room.
For the first time in the match, Brittany did not look so pristine. Her carefully groomed hair was a tangled mop of damp, flaxen tresses...her face was flushed, and her earlier tears had streaked her mascara a bit around the eyes...the right strap of her bikini top hung down the side of her arm. But, as if the more disheveled her appearance became, the more savage her fury grew, the blond now rushed at her foe with a snarl. Michelle met the charge, and the two beauties met in the center of the room with arms outstretched, fingers interlocking.
The teens strained against one another, every sinew of their taut bodies tightening in this test of strength. At first, a grunting Brittany managed to push her opponent back several steps. But soon enough Michelle found her footing and, her every muscle straining, she slowly began to force Brittany backwards at the waist. The blonde was powerless to reverse the unrelenting force, so she made a high risk move in an effort to escape. Suddenly placing her foot against her foe's belly, Brittany ceased to resist, allowing the momentum from Michelle to cause both beauties to fall to the floor, with Brittany using her strategically planted foot to flip the brunette up and over as they tumbled. Had the move not been executed perfectly, Brittany could have found herself pinned under her rival, possibly with a broken leg. But the execution was flawless, and the surprised brunette sailed through the air with a startled wail until she landed heavily to the floor.
The grueling demands of the battle had begun to take their toll on both teens, and while Brittany wanted desperately to launch a new offensive immediately, she had to acknowledge her limitations and take a few moments to regroup. That also gave Michelle precious seconds to marshal her waning strength, so that when the blonde at last got to her feet, she was met by a likewise rising brunette.
Like banshees they howled as they charged at one another, the sound of their sweat-soaked bodies echoing as they collided. Stumbling on their feet, they tore at hair, scratched at skin, and threw wild punches and knees, all the while hissing the most profane curses they could conjure up.
With a sudden roar, Michelle placed her hands on her rival's shoulders and ran, pushing the shocked blonde backwards until she collided with the wall, momentarily stunning her. Placing her left hand at Brittany's throat to hold her in place, Michelle then balled her right fist and began to jackhammer it into Brittany's left breast. The blonde yelped and mewled as each blow flattened itself into her bosom.
But with serpent swiftness, Brittany snapped her own fists out, each one slamming into the sides of Michelle's head. The brunette's eyes rolled up and she staggered backwards from the twin blows. Brittany, tears welling in her eyes as she took a moment to massage her battered breast, then grabbed Michelle by the hair and pulled her opponent into her, actually burying Michelle's face between Brittany's cleavage!
"You that interested in my titty, you dyke?" Brittany yelled. "Well here, take a good look!!"
Michelle struggled to pull free as she was being smothered by her foe’s mammaries. Once more, the smug, cruel smile returned to Brittany's face, as she realized victory was within her grasp - and with it, all of the attendant indignities she would heap upon her rival. Yet while Brittany was savoring thoughts of triumph, Michelle was taking advantage of the fact that she was so close to her opponent and without warning, she drove her knee up as hard as she could into Brittany's groin. The blonde let out a bloodcurdling scream, released Michelle and staggered across the room, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks as her hands desperately massaged her aching womanhood.
Released from the smothering hold, Michelle's legs seemed to buckle for a moment, but she stayed upright by placing her hand against the nearby wall, her lungs gulping in precious air. With a furious look on her face, she spat out "bitch!" as she glared at her reeling foe. Running on pure adrenaline, Michelle charged at her rival, wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist from behind and hoisted her into the air. Two seconds later, she dropped the blonde back down as Brittany’s already-aching crotch was impaled on the brunette's knee as she came crashing down in an Atomic Drop!
A horrifying screech ripped from Brittany's throat as her momentum sent her bouncing off Michelle’s knee face-first onto the carpeted floor. She rose to her knees, but then toppled over with her face buried in the carpet and her rear end elevated. It was too inviting a target to pass up, and Michelle unleashed a kick to her foe's posterior, sending Brittany sprawling on her belly. Then Michelle kicked Brittany again, this time in the ribs, rolling the blonde over onto her back. Leaping in the air, Michelle spitefully landed with both feet on Brittany's abdomen, driving the air from her!
Brittany made a pitiful panting noise as she desperately tried to draw oxygen back into her lungs, and as she lay there on the floor, sobbing and whimpering, she for the first time tonight looked frail and helpless. But if the sight of her beaten opponent stirred any thoughts of mercy for Michelle, she immediately dispelled them from her mind. She owed this bitch, and she meant to pay her debt. Michelle stood over her fallen foe and seemed to be mentally running through the alternatives. It didn't take her long to settle on the most malicious...nor than a few moments to settle atop Brittany in a face sit, the brunette's pear-shaped derriere engulfing the face of her rival. For good measure, she began pinching and twisting Brittany's nipples between her fingers. Brittany's body feebly thrashed, and her hands slapped the carpet in a signal of surrender but in a battle such as this, surrender could only come with unconsciousness which a very short time later, arrived!
Her victory accomplished at last, Michelle forced herself to her feet, then painfully made her way back to the guest bedroom which would be hers for the night. But as she passed the host of the night's festivities...a man who is not only a powerful Hollywood executive, but also a major figure in this elite catfight circle...she met his gaze and in a voice choked with aching exhaustion, yet still firm and certain, she rasped, "You know what I want now."
And then she disappeared behind the door of her room, there to relax and recover. As the guests refilled their glasses and began to mingle, excitedly exchanging observations about the evening’s titanic clash, one sidled up to the host as he accepted a refreshing of his brandy from the butler.
"What’d she mean by that remark? What does she want?"
"Something she thought she'd ever get again; something she still pushed mercilessly hard to regain," came the enigmatic reply.
"And what is that?" asked the puzzled guest.
The host sipped from his snifter as he stared out of the large picture window overlooking the night-shrouded playground of the wealthy, then in a voice equal parts fear and excitement whispered just two words, "Scarlett Johanssen."