Chely Wright vs. Shania Twain by Shanahan 7-21-00 (Adapted from another story with permission)

If they had been friends before - and no one was saying they were - they certainly weren't now. Chely Wright and Shania Twain had met in an outdoor ring for a competitive wrestling match in swimsuits, but things had soon gotten out of hand between the two country singing sirens.

So out of hand that sharp fingernails had shredded cotton bikinis like tissue paper, and they then assailed one another with bare fists and feet as their wrestling bout escalated into a full-fledged, nude, no holds barred catfight, each lovely brunette determined to win.

Chely had soon backed Shania into a corner of the ring where she latched onto Shania's long hair and began pulling like mad. Shania screamed even as she clamped her hands about Chely's breasts and began squeezing them with all her might, stalemating their one-on-one combat as they took it to one another. Chely cried out as Shania's fingers sunk deep into her milky white breasts, and she decided to cease her hair pulling on the Canadian cutie and return the favor with interest, assaulting Shania's fabulous knockers with a fury.

"Owwww!" squealed Shania at this new pain. "You tramp!"

Soon both country beauties were locked in a breast-squeezing stalemate, each of them digging her claws into the other's soft chest flesh as their wails pierced the midday air. They began to twist and turn each other about the ring, bare feet shuffling back and forth on the canvas cover as they pulled each other about painfully by their firm, ample breasts, hands squeezing with all their strength. Tears welled up in their eyes at their mutual agony but still they kept right on assaulting one another, neither woman willing to submit to the other, deadlocked until Chely pulled in close, hooked her foot about Shania's ankle and shoved forward, and sent both battlers crashing to the mat.

They landed hard, both women losing their two-handed grips as the breath was knocked from their bodies, but soon they were rolling over and over on the canvas, hands buried in each other's long dark hair and pulling viciously. Full breasts and furry crotches mashed together erotically as they fought woman-to-woman, each determined to get the better of the other while making her enemy suffer, but so far neither wrestler could gain the upper hand.

That changed when Chely went on the offensive again, rolling on top of Shania and locking her feet around her foe's ankles to prevent Shania from rolling them over once again. Her position established, Chely broke off her hair-pulling attack to clamp her hands over Shania's nose and mouth and begin suffocating her, trying to weaken her enemy by denying her of breath while hopefully jumpstarting her own way to victory.

Chely roared in pain as Shania continued to yank on her long hair with both hands, but the formers smothering holds were having their desired effect, one hand clamped tight over Shania's mouth, the other pinching her nostrils shut and cutting off all her available oxygen. Shania's eyes began to bug out, then were shut tight in anguish as she suffered in Chely's two-handed grip, the taste of flesh bitter and acrid, that of trapped air, stale and sweaty.

Shania now gripped Chely by the wrists, trying desperately to break her opponent's hold, but still her breathing passages were sealed off, still she labored for air, her throat growing dry and her lungs burning. They began to roll about the mat, over and over, as Shania shoved at her foe's shoulders with all her strength, but Chely's soft hands were still cemented over Shania's pretty nose and mouth, the aggressor pinching and pressing expertly.

"You're finished, you little witch!" crowed Chely, her thick lips creasing into a wicked grin, her fingernails glinting in the sunlight against Shania's alabaster skin. "I'm gonna hold on until your little lungs burst!"

As she felt herself growing light-headed and her oxygen-starved chest catching figurative fire, Shania knew that moment might not be too far off - that Chely really would hold on and smother the life out of her. To put it plainly, Shania was suffocating. Trapped beneath her foe, she felt her lungs bursting as she tried to breathe - and failed, Chely's hands expertly covering Shania's mouth and pinching her nostrils shut. Worse, Chely had positioned her hand so that Shania's lips were pressed shut, but she couldn't bring her teeth to bear on Chely's palm. She tugged madly at Chely's wrists, desperate to break free, desperate to breathe, but her efforts were in vain. Her throat was sore, she couldn't even gulp, and her lungs ached like never before, no air, no air ...

Finally, on the verge of passing out as her vision blurred and she began to see starbursts, Shania reached up and began slapping her enemy wildly. The back and front of her right hand alternately cracked audibly against Chely's right and left cheek, as Shania swung with all her flagging energy.

"Owww!" cried Chely at this new pain, as she bore the brunt of her foe's attack while still trying to maintain her smothering holds. "Owww!!! Goddamn you, I'll teach you to try that shit!"

Enraged, Chely shifted her hands from Shania's pretty face, allowing the entrapped beauty to began sucking in sweet if stale air - but only for a moment. Growling menacingly, Chely quickly fastened her soft but strong hands about Shania's softer throat and began squeezing with all her strength, now trying to strangle Shania instead of suffocate her.

"I'll - teach - you - you - BITCH!" spat the dominant country beauty.

She began to pound Shania's head against the cream-colored canvas, powerful hands still tightening about Shania's yielding throat, thumbs stabbing deep into the exposed windpipe. Again Shania clutched at Chely's wrists with her both hands, trying to pry loose from her attacker's grip, but if she had been in agony before it was as nothing compared to now ...

"I'm gonna squeeze the life from you, you little bitch!" crowed Chely again, white teeth flashing in a wicked grin. "No one can save you now, you slut!"

Chely was winning handily. Shania tried to swallow, but the lump caught in her throat as Chely's thumbs pressed down harder and harder, her fingers coiling in tight on the back of Shania's slender neck and applying equal but opposite pressure - with Shania's throat in the middle of this reverse tug-of-war. Knowing full well that Chely meant to finish her off now, Shania again peered through the haze of heat and pain to see her wickedly smiling adversary bearing down upon her with both hands.

And then she again brought her own hands into the fray as she reached up and scratched away savagely at Chely's arms, nails making ugly long marks on Chely's perfect skin as Chely screamed bloody murder.

"YOU WHORE!" Chely roared.

Soon she was forced to break off her textbook chokehold and began fumbling at Shania's wrists, trying to prevent those gouging claws from inflicting any more damage. Getting only marginal results, as Shania continued to leave long scratches along Chely's forearms despite Ms. Wright's best efforts to stop her, Chely then went on the offensive again as she began raining punches and slaps down into Shania's pretty face. Knuckles crashed off Shania's nose and mouth and palms cracked against her cheekbones until finally one shot from a bony fist clacked off Shania's lower jaw and left her sprawling. Ms. Twain's sleek arms and legs were akimbo as she twisted her head and neck from side to side to stave off impending unconsciousness.

Grinning wickedly once more at her foe's predicament, Chely suddenly dropped down, wrapped her arms about Shania's pretty head, and held her in place as she then mashed her breasts full into her opponent's face, firm melons pressing hard against Shania's nose and mouth and once more cutting off her air supply. Too weak to even fully open her eyes, Shania could only lay there as she smothered once more, eyelids fluttering, Chely again stealing the breath from Shania's shapely body as the fight headed towards its inexorable conclusion. A few minutes of mashing, stuffing and suffocating, and Shania was all but out cold.

But not quite. Rising to her bare feet over her fallen foe, Chely stared down hatefully for a moment and then turned 180 degrees so that her backside was directly over Shania's face. Chely then crouched down on all fours, placed her bare bottom over that face, and ground away erotically for the next few minutes, Shania offering absolutely no resistance whatsoever, as Chely ultimately smothered her adversary completely unconscious.

The fight was over, and Chely had won decisively. Turning around again, Chely slapped Shania awake before squeezing Shania's breasts savagely, one in each hand, until Shania was awake and moaning, still too spent to defend herself, before passing out again in pain. Shania then remained unconscious and oblivious to it all as Chely amused herself with her foe's soft, firm mounds, squeezing them for all they were worth as flesh swelled and oozed between the country beauty's greedy, grasping fingers. Her delight at punishing her fallen foe was evident in her huge smile, as big as the moon, the two women locked together in the middle of the backyard ring, one awake and punishing, the other out cold but suffering.

The torture session continued for a long while, Chely pulling mercilessly at Shania's thick nipples, stretching them out like taffy. The beaten beauty briefly awoke once again only to pass out one last time from the unbearable pain. Chely then got up, scowling even in victory, her hatred restoked after viewing the long scratches on her body, pyrrhic wounds made by Shania's clawing hands, now stinging with trickling sweat. With a not-so-soft kick to Shania's ribs that got Shania stirring, Chely then smiled and laughed, a harsh, mocking kind of glee. Then she pointed down at Shania with a menacing index finger, not caring if her victim could hear her or not.

"Next time you'll get more of the same, only worse!" mocked Chely in a shrill voice. "Next time I'll can crush the goddamn life out of you with my bare hands!"

She could hardly wait to fasten her hands about her adversary's long neck again and squeeze it savagely, to the point of rendering her unconscious - or worse. Then the winning witch headed out of the ring, her shapely ass wiggling as she walked away, leaving Shania there lying flat on her back, arms and legs spread wide, alone and unconscious in the makeshift arena. A battered, bruised, and completely defeated single white female ...