It had been one month since the first titanic battle between Scarlett and Michelle. The fight had generated such enthusiasm that the clamor for a rematch was simply too much to ignore, even though rematches were a rarity in the elite West Coast catfight circle, and certainly almost unheard of so soon after the first confrontation. No one agitated for a second fight more than the combatants themselves. As the loser, Scarlett was understandably anxious to avenge her defeat and prove Michelle’s win was a fluke while Michelle was furious when she heard that Scarlett was telling one and all she had not out-wrestled her, but ‘just outlasted’ her and, in the end, ‘got lucky.’
That just made the brunette even more determined to demonstrate that she could beat the blond; anytime, anywhere and with any rules she chose. Thus a rematch was quickly arranged, to be held in the San Francisco mansion of a wealthy and politically prominent woman. Unlike the first match, this time there would be no dog collar for the loser; it would be a straightout catfight! Besides, Michelle felt no need to collar Scarlett again and for Scarlett, merely doing to Michelle what had already been done to her was insufficient; she intended to humble Michelle far more than by just collaring her.
Scarlett entered the spacious living room first, clad in a midnight blue one-piece with a single strap over her left shoulder, her light golden blonde hair cut short and up-swept. As usual, the blond was icily stoic, but this time with an edge of anger for Michelle had clearly enraged her and now she was out for vengeance! Michelle was introduced next and she appeared, wearing a floral print bikini, her long chestnut hair in pigtails. But her seemingly innocent and naïve attire was more than offset by the look of fury that burned in her eyes and the glower she wore on her face. She’d come to fight and she was wasting none of herself on distractions.
The intermediary went over the instructions while the two combatants stood with their eyes locked with one another, their hands defiantly planted on their cocked hips, bodies arched in a ‘'You Don't Impress Me Much’ pose. The body language alone was enough to set the pulses of strong men and women among the ‘invite only’ spectators racing.
At the ‘start’ signal, they began to circle warily. Both clearly wanting to leap into the fray, but both wisely heeding their instinct for caution, knowing how disastrous it would be to make a fatal mistake and give their opponent the advantage so early in the match. They probed, hands darting out only to be swatted away until, almost in unison, both lunge and fill their hands with hair. They grunt and squeal as their manes are pulled roughly at the roots as they stumble around the room, each searching for an opening to attack. That opportunity suddenly comes as Scarlett drives her knee low into Michelle’s abdomen, striking hard. Michelle groans, but doesn’t relinquish her hold on the blonde's hair. That suits Scarlett just fine, as it means Michelle can't use her hands to defend herself, and her next kneelift slams in perilously close to Michelle's vulnerable groin!
This time, Michelle’s hands release Scarlett’s hair and drop to shield her lower body as she doubles over from the blow. Still holding Michelle’s hair, Scarlett swings her leg back preparing for yet another kneelift, this target for Michelle's face. But Michelle grabs the blonde's support leg and yanks, dropping Scarlett to the floor. Scarlett drags Michelle down with her, but as she hits the floor on her back, Michelle tumbles on top of her, knocking the wind out of her; a serious blunder by the blonde!
After a flurry of scuffling and wrestling on the carpet, Michelle pins Scarlett's wrists to the floor, trapping her beneath her, then bucking up into the air, she comes down with her right knee pounding into the blonde's solar plexus. WHOOSH! The air is forced from Scarlett's diaphragm on impact; the sound bringing a small, cruel smile to Michelle's lips for the first time in the match. Straddling Scarlett’s hips, Michelle spins around facing the blonde's legs which she grabs and spreads as far apart as possible, straining the leg muscles and tendons to their limit, threatening to tear her hamstrings, forcingScarlett to whimper as pain shoots up and down her inner thighs.
Scarlett reaches up and grabs her tormentor by her pigtails, pulling her head backward. Michelle tries to resist, but quickly finds herself bent so far back that she loses her leverage and the blonde's sweaty limbs slip through her fingers. Michelle strains to pull free and Scarlett unexpectedly releases the brunette's hair, sending Michelle lurching forward as the resistance disappears. As she does, Scarlett snaps her legs closed, hammering the brunette on either side of the head with the insides of her knees. Momentarily stunned, Michelle offers no resistance as Scarlett shoves her off of her.
Scrambling to her feet, Scarlett drives a kick to Michelle's face that sends the brunette rolling across the floor until she comes to a stop on her back. Scarlett wastes no time, launching a blizzard of stomps to Michelle’s exposed body, her feet slamming hard down onto her breasts, belly and face until the blonde plants her sole across Michelle’s throat and presses down, choking her.
Grabbing the oppressive foot with both hands as her own legs thrash, Michelle struggles for air, finally managing to lift and twist Scarlett’s foot, dumping her off onto the floor. Scarlett retaliates instantly, grabbing Michelle’s pigtail and pulling her up to a sitting position as she kneels behind her. Planting a knee into the small of Michelle’s back and cupping her hands under Michelle's chin, Scarlett rockes backward, sending sharp pain arcing up and down the embattled brunette's spine as Michelle howls in pain!
Pawing at the hands under her chin, Michelle seems on the verge of breaking the hold when Scarlett suddenly lets go, jumps up, and then rips her elbow into the forehead of her startled victim. Michelle collapses on her back dazed! To some of the spectators, it begins to look like Scarlett had been right; that Michelle wasn’t her equal, that it had been mere luck she won their first encounter! But to more experienced observers, those who had seen victory seized from the jaws of defeat many times before, it was plain it was still far too early to concede either as the winner. Michelle is too talented a warrior to be written off quite so easily.
Meantime, Scarlett has paused to consider her next move. In the heat of attack, each maneuver flows into the next almost organically, with little forethought needed. But now with Michelle down and almost out, Scarlett takes a few moments to catch her breath, her battle instinct giving way to cunning calculation. But that is equally true for Michelle! For although battered and seemingly helpless, Michelle's mind is still clear, her anger focused; she knows she need only to wait for Scarlett to get complacent, to grow overconfident - then she'll find an opening and lash back.
And Scarlett doesn’t disappoint her; moving in with her defenses down to grab Michelle’s hair. Like a cobra, Michelle's hand darts out, connecting with a palm strike under Scarlett’s jaw that staggers the blonde. Next, a lightning-fast snap kick to Scarlett’s thigh causes her to stumble and almost fall as her leg buckles momentarily! with a swiftness belying her pain, Michelle springs to her feet while Scarlett shakes her head to clear it and assumes a defensive stance. But the blonde is a heartbeat too slow and Michelle's dance-sculpted leg whips out once more, the ball of her foot smashing into Scarlett’s jaw, sending her reeling away disorientated.
In a show of her impressive strength, Michelle scoops up Scarlett and, giving an Amazon's roar, hoists her into the air and then smashes her down on her side over her bent knee. As she crumples on the carpet, Scarlett is wailing and holding her ribs. Michelle stands and slams several kicks to Scarlett’s ribcage, softening them up for her next move. Dropping on her ass beside Scarlett, Michelle starts to slide her legs around Scarlett's waist to put her in bodyscissors, but Scarlett, seeing what she plans, begins to squirm and thrash wildly and the two rivals begin to roll and writhe on the floor. Their struggle ends with both of them positioned to allow them to apply anklelocks to the other. For added discomfort, they each dig their thumb into the tender soles of the other’s foot.
It's a strange, violent tableau as the two beauties try to sprain or break the other’s ankle, their own pain fueling their power as their heads sway back and forth, their eyes squeezed shut tight against the pain and in grim determination. Both groan, grunt and whine from the agony they're inflicting, yet both refuse to submit. Ultimately, with a shared roar, they each release their holds and both teens, unable to withstand the pain any longer, roll apart, ending up at opposite ends of the room where they sit massaging their aching feet and glaring daggers at one another.
After a short respite, they rise......their bodies wracked with pain, their chests heaving; their young bodies magnificent still bathed in a thin sheen of each other’s mingled perspiration; an aura of supreme power emanating from them both. If there had been any doubt whatsoever, that doubt is resolved; there will be no quarter asked, none given. This fight will be to the bitter end!
Again as one, as if they share some secret, savage instinct, they rush toward each other and their bodies collide with the SMACK of wet skin as they grapple for control, hands tearing away, feet stumbling on the carpet. Michelle enjoys a height superiority of several inches and she uses it to make an unorthodox move, grabbing Scarlett’s mouth in both hands and pulling it wide open, threatening to unhinge her jaw. But before that happens, Scarlett retaliates with a stomp to Michelle’s bare foot with enough force it could have broken several toes. Both girls break free of the other and take stock of their wounds before resuming the battle.
Again, eschewing a coherent strategy, they slam into each other and this time they topple to the floor, rolling back and forth across the carpet until, suddenly, Scarlett shrieks and the spectators see that Michelle has her teeth in the young blonde's succulent breast meat! Scarlett desperately strikes back, jabbing her thumbs in Michelle’s closed eyes, successfully breaking the animalistic bite after several painful seconds. Some spectators begin to wonder if they should put an end to the battle which has now ceased to be a match; instead, these two warriors seem intent only on hurting one another, not winning a fight. But the rules are far stricter for the spectators than for the combatants, and all know that only the hostess has the authority to halt the carnage and she sits impassive, one hand up under her skirt, allowing the teenagers to continue their war to the bitter end!
Both girls know they can't continue the inhuman pace much longer. Short of overpowering the other, which seems unlikely, they know their only hope for victory is to wear down their opponent until she’s too weak to resist them. Thus begins a long, grueling, struggle as Michelle and Scarlett roll back and forth across the carpet, trading holds and punches, each hoping her own waning strength outlasts her opponent’s. The advantage seesaws back and forth between them; at one point, with both on their knees, Michelle maneuvers behind Scarlett and applies a hammerlock with one hand, using the other to cruelly pull Scarlett's suit up in the back, giving her a painful wedgie. Yet, less than a minute later, it’s Michelle who finds herself on her stomach, her fists beating the floor in pained frustration as the blond pulls her left leg back in a crude half-Boston Crab. Not long after that, the momentum shifts once more and the brunette begins grinding away at Scarlett, holding her in a side headlock, only to have Scarlett seize control again moments later and sink her talons deep into Michelle's perky breasts.
And so it goes; control of the battle swingng wildly from one to the other; the cost of the brutal battle taking a frightful toll on both nubily young bodies; yet with neither giving even the slightest indication that she’d give a thought to surrender. But a battle this brutal, this taxing and this mean-spirited can’t continue indefinately! Ultimately, the two blood-rivals find themselves on their knees facing one another once more, their flushed, scratched and bruised bodies slumping from sheer exhaustion, their sweat-stung eyes bearing the dull glaze of pain. Both have her hands around the slender throat of the other, brutally trying to strangle her into defeat. As their bodies sway back and forth, they gasp for breath, their eyes begin to roll, their jaws go slack as their mouths gape open, desperately sucking in whatever air they can..
Inevitably, one woman falters, her body no longer able to obey her brain’s pleas to continue. Michelle's hands slip from the neck of her blonde rival and drop limp at her sides, her eyes barely open as darkness begins to sweep over her oxygen-starved brain. A few more moments of her stranglehold, Scarlett knows, and the brunette will be unconscious and beaten. But that's not good enough for her! She releases her choke and Michelle crumples face first to the carpet. Then she grabs the brunette's halter top and rips it from her body, flipping her onto her back as she does, exposing her bruised, perky little breasts. Rolling her back onto her belly, Scarlett binds Michelle's wrists behind her back with her own top, then slumps back on her elbows and gulps in great lungfuls of precious air as she waits for Michelle to regain her senses. She wants her hated rival to know precisely what is happening to her!
When Michelle begins to stir, Scarlett grabs her pigtails and uses them to haul her to her knees. Kneeling in front of her flashing a mirthless smile, Scarlett begins driving her right fist into Michelle’s belly. Michelle gasps from the blow, but tenses her taut abs, struggling to absorb the blows that follow. Despite her exhaustion, Michelle defiantly tries to weather the barrage of blows. Punch after punch lands with devastating effect, Michelle grunting at each impact, yet she continues to resist. Scarlett grows frustrated; she had intended to hammer her rival into begging for mercy. Instead, with every punch endured, Michelle seemed to grow more majestic than before. But even majesty has its limits and when Scarlett finally buries a fist deep in the brunette's belly it is simply one blow too many. Michelle doubles over with an agonized groan, her body no longer able to continue.
Although she can now barely lift her own arms, Scarlett grabs Michelle by the hair, lifts her head and delivers one final punch, this one connecting solidly with the brunette's jaw. Michelle's head snaps sharply to the side and her body jerks as it topples backward, collapsing to the floor in a heap as a faint sigh whispers from her parted lips; otherwise there is no sign of life save the heaving of her bare breasts as her body sucks in air.
This was not how it was supposed to end! Scarlett wanted...NEEDED...her rival to be destroyed, to beg and plead with her for mercy, but Scarlett knew, she hadn't out-wrestled Michelle...merely outlasted her. Still, a measure of revenge could be derived from even a narrow victory such as this. Although her hands were swollen and sore, the blonde was able to manipulate her fingers enough to use Michelle's halter to not only keep her wrists bound, but also bind her ankles, leaving her hog-tied in the center of the room.
Agonizingly, Scarlett got to her feet and began to stumble and stagger towards her bedroom room as the hostess moved to tend to Michelle. But then the blond looked back over her shoulder with a frigid glare and, in a hoarse voice choked with equal parts pain and authority and snarled, "Leave her!"
Scarlett took a long, hot shower, dressed, and exited her room to head home. Stepping into the living room, she found the assembled spectators eerily quiet. There, still hog-tied on the floor, lay Michelle, now conscious and struggling in vain with her bonds, tears streaking her face; screaming for ‘someone, anyone’ to help her. No one made a move to help her, so paralyzed were they by Scarlett's stern command. Spotting Scarlett, the brunette spewed a stream of profanities, concluding with, “This isn't over...I'll get you next time!".
The blonde left the wealthy patron’s mansion with a renewed glow of supreme self-confidence. Yet for all of her confidence, she knew, as did Michelle, that this was far from over…there would be a third meeting!