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Old Rivals, New Friends

By Wolfboy

Emma finally gets back on the mats and straight into a match with Sara

It was the morning after Debbie and Julie had fought that Emma and I had made the short journey to Sara’s apartment for Emma to finally return to action, taking on her often times nemesis Sara in a private battle. That in itself was unusual; Emma and Sara had usually fought for an audience and for high stakes where this morning they would just fight because they wanted to. Sara had been keen to see Emma get back into action I reflected as we walked to Sara’s apartment, Emma carrying a small bag that contained her catfighting outfit. It was almost like the blonde, having dealt impressively with Kat and Helen Cook, needed her main rival back on the mats to feel totally complete as a catfighter.

‘I don’t know if I’m ready for her Steve’ Emma had confided in me the previous evening. ‘It’s been a long time but I feel drawn to fighting her somehow’ she admitted, laughing as she said ‘and she is going to be in trouble if I get my fat arse on her face!’

‘Your arse is just perfect dear’ I’d countered, though it didn’t change the fact that Emma would be coming in heavier for this match that she usually did. Time away from action could have that effect on a fighter, and while I couldn’t deny that she still looked fabulous, she perhaps wasn’t fully ready for a woman like Sara in a way. On the other hand, if there was one woman that could get the best out of Emma and make her raise her game, it was often Sara, the blonde who greeted us at the door of her apartment now.

‘I’m glad you came Emma’ she smiled, ‘you’re far too good to be thrown off fighting because of one loss. Of course’ she added, ‘that doesn’t mean you’ll be winning today, but I’ll break you back in gently’ she laughed, Emma also enjoying her comments as she entered the apartment. Sara lead the way down the hall, turning right at the end to enter the lounge area, cleared largely of furniture now with some wrestling mats covering the centre of the room. Her mother, Julie, was there evidently to act as Sara’s second for the day. Emma and Sara had agreed the rules of their match following Julie’s victory over Debbie on the previous day. That had taken all of 5 minutes for them to agree, slaps only to the face, no long nails, one submission, no time limit to be fought in one continuous session. A touch of old school glamour too; they had agreed to fight in one piece swimsuits. While I didn’t expect this to quite at the level of intensity that we’d seen between Emma and Sara previously, as they chatted with each other for quite a while before deciding that it might be time to fight, I had no doubt there would be a competitive edge to it.

The change in dynamic between the two was pretty clear as they actually went off to the same room to change now while Julie and I took up stations on the remaining sofa in the room. As seconds in a one fall match without a break, ours was pretty much a watching brief we both knew. We chatted briefly about her victory over Debbie yesterday, a match Julie had enjoyed it seemed. She admitted that she thought Debbie would probably have been quite the handful if she were still fighting regularly, conceding generously that her still being a regular fighter had been an advantage for her. I thought that might well have been true, but had to admit that with her size advantage too, Julie might still have proven just too much Debbie anyway.

‘How do you think this will go?’ Julie asked me then, diverting out thoughts back to the matter at hand.

‘Honestly, I’ve seen these two have some wild fights, and’ I had to admit ‘it’s usually felt like Sara has had a slight edge most of the time. I don’t see this being as wild maybe, but I’d be surprised if Emma won here’ I suggested.

‘I know Sara respects her as an opponent’ Julie admitted ‘and that’s not true of many girls’ she added. ‘But for what it’s worth, I think her time off the mats has to make Sara the favourite to win’ Julie suggested.

‘Can’t argue with that’ I agreed, adding ‘I guess we’re about to find out for sure now’ as Emma and Sara came back into the room. Both had chosen their respective one pieces well I thought; Sara’s was in her favoured scarlet colour, high legged, a thin halter neck strap and a plunge front showing of the breasts that she used to smother so many women to submission well. Emma had chosen an emerald green suit in contrast, a little lower cut at the leg, thicker shoulder straps and an equally plunging front, albeit one vaguely covered with some criss-cross laces. ‘We should do introductions’ Sara suggested as she continued ‘I mean, we are proper fighters after all’ she shrugged. ‘I’ll go first’ she continued, ‘I’m Sara, I’m 5 feet 9 inches tall, 165lbs and 38DD-28-40. I have a record of 41 wins and 12 losses’ she finished up.

‘And I’m Emma’ my wife replied, ‘I’m 5 feet 10 inches tall, 182lbs, and 40E-29-38. I have a record of 54 wins and 19 losses’ she shrugged as she continued to stretch on her corner of the mats.

‘Ready?’ Sara asked, there being no further requirement for ceremony now. ‘As I’ll ever be’ Emma offered in reply, and the action was underway. Well, after a fashion, with both women actually exchanging a fist bump at the centre of the mats, before each started to circle, their faces suddenly set to show that, friends or not, they were back to the reality of fighting now. It was Sara who looked to strike first too, perhaps seeking to take advantage of some ring rust as she did so, catching Emma with fast slaps to face and body. Emma smiled, tasting combat for the first time in some months, and then she shot back as Sara came in again, landing a slap to the shoulder as the blonde back handed her in the belly.

A momentary re-evaluation of tactics now, and then Sara looked to close in quickly to deliver a knee to the belly which landed, but not perfectly, and at close range now, both ladies went for the hair on instinct. Two handfuls of strawberry blonde hair, two of auburn hair and two strong ladies looked to bully the other back across the mats. Neither was very successful in that, before Emma surprised Sara and caught her with a knee to the body of her own. Trying to capitalise, Emma looked to go for a big body slam only to find Sara blocking, a hand in her hair still, forcing her head down a little before a clubbing blow to the shoulders put Emma on her knees. Sara lashed a stinging slap across Emma’s breasts now, Emma fired back with a slap to the thigh, before Sara grabbed the hair, pulling Emma’s face into her body, looking to partly smother her with her belly. That could have been effective by Sara, but Emma showed she still knew how to fight, going straight for a crotch maul which drew a quick cry of surprise from Sara before she wisely moved clear.

‘Fair enough’ Sara nodded, ‘you remembered how to fight then’ she admitted as she started to circle with Emma again now.

‘Like riding a bike’ Emma said, laughing as she added ‘or riding your face with my fat arse later on!’

‘Not gonna happen Emma’ Sara responded, landing a slap as the next burst of action started off. Emma felt that sting her thigh but she fired back with a little flurry of of her own, seeming to trouble Sara a little, certainly forcing her to give a bit of ground. Then Sara shot in a knee to the belly, perfectly times to stop Emma in her tracks, and she immediately lashed a hard slap across her breasts again to send her reeling to the mat. Now Sara would look to go to work with a handful of hair, forcing Emma to her feet only to lift her impressively into an across the knee back breaker. Emma groaned on feeling that impact, groaned again then as Sara stretched her painfully across her knee, a hand pushing down on her chin and one on the inner thigh, very close to the crotch. For now, Sara was content to punish Emma without resorting to the crotch claw though, and she pushed down, taunting a little as she told Emma ‘give up if it’s all a bit too much for you these days!’ Another push on chin and thigh torqued Emma across the strawberry blonde’s leg, but she told Sara ‘no way!’ before, feeling Emma started to squirm and look to escape now, Sara pushed her off her knee to the mat.

Those thin mats did little to cushion the short drop, and Sara looked to continue her attack, using an elbow drop across the shoulders and back of the neck to keep Emma controlled. Kneeling now in Emma’s lower back, Sara grabbed a fist full of auburn hair to force her face from the mat, twisting her neck just a little as she applied the first breast maul of the fight, reaching round to clamp down on Emma’s right breast. It was applied through the swimsuit, but Sara’s fingers were still effective in putting an element of hurt on Emma who groaned in pain. It had been a torrid enough opening for Emma; returning to action with a fighter of Sara’s calibre was likely to be that way of course, but she was fighting hard, sending a couple of elbows back into Sara’s legs. The American thought better of the attack now, and she decided instead to use that fistful of hair to bring Emma to her feet. Emma struck back quickly though now, lunging to catch Sara low with a headbutt to the belly, before she grabbed her legs to tip Sara to the mat.

Emma lunged straight for her now, no finesse, a simple catball with her old rival down on the mat as they rolled in a tangle of hair, legs and fury, trying to get control of each other as they did so. Both shrieked as they felt the pain in their scalps from the fierce hair pulling while it wasn’t really clear who had the upper hand. Sara struck with a right hand to Emma’s ribs and tried to latch on to her breast now; Emma groaned, but having maintained the double handful of hair, she took advantage of being on top and banged the back of Sara’s head on the thin mats to subdue her for a moment. That was Emma’s cue to lunge for the face sit, wanting to make good on her threat to plant her arse squarely on Sara’s face. Desperately, the American woman just about stopped her with arms folded high on her chest to form a barrier to Emma’s progress. A classic defence, and one the Emma looked to break as she leaned her body into Sara’s arms, trying to force them above her head. She reached back too, a slap stinging Sara’s left thigh before she delivered a sharp punch to the belly. Quickly she shifted her weight back into pushing against Sara’s arms now, hoping that her punch to the belly might have softened her up just enough, Sara’s defence holding firm for now as Emma stung her with another slap to the thigh. Sara groaned with the effort of holding Emma off, but she wasn’t moving anywhere just yet; Emma held the advantage and had Sara well pinned by her 182lb frame. And then, a look of realisation dawned on Emma; quickly she used that 182lb frame to her advantage, lifting her body a few inches off Sara and dropping heavily, butt first, on her body.

‘Oooofff! Fuck!’ Sara groaned, and instantly Emma had her hands pushed above her head, her primary defence broken as Emma moved forward, completing the face sit, but not quite achieving her aim as Sara quickly turned her face to the side. That meant that Emma found herself sat on Sara’s right cheek, not achieving the smothering effect she was aiming for, but a position of dominance nevertheless. She grabbed for Sara’s hair now, getting deep into her thick strawberry blonde mane, close to the scalp, trying to use that to give her the leverage to rip the American to her back. ‘Aaaaggghhhhh! You cow!’ Sara shrieked, the hard hair pull punishing for her to take as she resisted it strongly so far. Emma reached back, sending a slap down on to Sara’s right breast now, adding a gab and maul through the fabric of her scarlet swimsuit as she did, and Sara seemed to be in some trouble. She was always tough and resilient of course, and Emma knew she needed her flat on her back to complete the face pin if she wanted to beat her with this move. Keeping that breast maul on, Emma went back to the hair to try and force Sara flat out and immediately she cried out in surprise as Sara swung her legs up to scissor the arm that she had behind her, delivering the breast maul. A surprise attack, one though that Emma shrugged off quickly enough, before she returned to the hair, slowly starting to force Sara to her back now. Sara looked troubled; Emma’s extra weight seeming to make her harder to dislodge, her nasty hair pull slowly forcing Sara, by her strawberry blonde locks, fully into the face sit. The trap was sprung as finally Sara could resist no more, going flat to her back with the hair pull, and Emma shifted forward, engulfing her face with her arse, one hand still in Sara’s hair. Deep trouble it seemed for Sara as Emma settled into position to grind out the long face sit smother to submission.

An attempt to bridge from Sara had little impact on Emma who turned slightly to deliver a punch to Sara’s body, a short sharp blow with her knuckles rapping on the American’s stomach. Sara groaned, the sound muffled by Emma’s arse, and it started to look a little ominous for the strawberry blonde for a moment, then she swung her legs up and got them wrapped around Emma’s body. Emma was taken by surprise, just for long enough, and Sara was able to use her power to roll Emma off her, trapping her between her thighs, flat on her back with her legs in the air. Sara needed a strong move to find her way back into the fight, and she had it right in front of her, electing to pussy whip Emma twice while she had her trapped like that. Emma groaned and Sara kicked her out from between her legs, taking a moment to compose herself as Emma clutched at her pussy down on the mat.

‘Good try Emma’ Sara told her, ‘good, but not quite good enough’ she said as she measured Emma to deliver an elbow drop across her breasts. Emma groaned again but grabbed Sara’s hair, trying to use that to hold the blonde in close to her on the mat to prevent another hard hitting attack. ‘Fucking bitch loves pulling hair!’ Sara remarked, kneeling over Emma as she slapped her breasts hard to draw a little shriek of pain from her. Then both were in the hair, Emma determinedly holding Sara in close to stop her heavier hitting attacks while Sara used the hair hold to punish, ripping at Emma’s hair with both hands for now. Little doubt then who was having the better of the exchange, but making sure that there was no doubt, Sara broke Emma’s resistance, quickly banging the back of her head off the mats twice. Stunned for the moment, Emma found Sara able to brush her hands away from her strawberry blonde hair and then, with glee in her eyes, both hands were inside the top of Emma’s swimsuit, sunk in to her breasts in a double breast maul that quickly and loudly returned Emma fully to her senses. As her cries of pain filled the small lounge, Emma looked for a way to fight back and she found it quickly with Sara kneeling over her, managing to secure a crotch maul through the fabric of the blonde’s scarlet swimsuit. Sara groaned, more from being angry at herself for getting caught than from the pain of the actual move, but it gave Emma scant respite as the American blonde broke off the breast maul to hammer her belly with a hard double fisted blow.

Emma gasped for air from that hard hitting blow, and she was quickly pulled into an awkward seated position by Sara, and into what, from the right angle, might have looked like a loving embrace. That would have been to underestimate the fighting style of Sara who was using one of her premier weapons, the breast smother, to punish Emma now in that seated position. A variation on her favoured smothering attack but no less effective as her arms wrapped tightly around Emma’s head to pull her into the smothering attack. A pretty desperate situation for Emma it looked like as she pushed against Sara, both hands placed just below the blonde’s breasts, trying to force a fraction of separation so that she might catch her breath. ‘No you don’t!’ Sara admonished, no give in her grasp it seemed as Emma continued to try and force that gap for just long enough to replenish her steadily depleting air supplies. Then Emma broke free; a sudden, sharp, right hand to Sara’s body followed by a sharp push on the American’s body sending her back to the mat.

Emma thought that she might have a chance for the face sit again now I fancied, trying to spring forward to achieve it, but she was far too slow this time as Sara crossed her legs around her body in a tight body scissors. Evidently it was powerful too, Emma letting out a groan before she started to try and push down on Sara’s belly to weaken the hold. She wasn't defending herself properly though as she did that, and the sound of two stinging slaps cracking off her face filled the room, stunning her, and knocking her to her side. Still between Sara’s thighs as the blonde put the squeeze on her once more, giving Emma a real taste of the power she packed. To me, it looked like the blonde had been working on her leg power, and as Emma cried out in pain again, it seemed it probably felt that way too.

‘Give up Emma’ Sara suggested now, adding a little sarcastically ‘you’ve not done bad all things considered’ knowing that the light hearted mocking would make Emma fight harder.

‘You bitch!’ Emma responded, trying to force an arm between Sara’s legs to break the scissor hold open. Then she cried out ‘OOOWWW!’ as Sara poured the power on again, all the time slowly muscling Emma to her back on the mat as she did so. It seemed like the end game perhaps if Sara had her way, though it started with a degree of cat and mouse, Sara slapping Emma’s breasts through her emerald green suit before slapping her face when Emma tried to defend against the breast attacks. In reply, Emma slapped at Sara’s thighs, and even got a solid looking body punch into the strawberry blonde fighter’s ribs. Sara shrugged that punch off, repaid Emma with a punch of her own to the breasts and then she started to move her position, maintaining the body scissors as best she could as she slowly found her way into a position sat on Emma’s stomach. Emma immediately recognised what it seemed to be; an attempt to secure the super smother by first claiming the grapevine and she lifted her legs straight up to prevent Sara claiming them. Now Sara lazily flicked back a slap to the thigh and tried to shift one of Emma’s shoulder straps down a little. Emma resisted that easily enough but Sara pancaked her right breast now with a heavy slap, Emma protesting ‘Owwww! You bitch!’ as she felt the blow.

Still Sara held the dominant position as Emma reached up to maul at the strawberry blonde’s breast. Sara ignored that for a moment, reaching back to slap at Emma’s thighs, then to deliver a sharp punch to the stomach, starting to knock the wind out of Emma a little. Emma continued to keep her legs out of Sara’s grasp for now, though I could see that she was weakening in her resolve as Sara prised her hand, a finger at a time, from her breast. ‘Keep your fingers to yourself!’ she warned, slapping Emma’s face hard enough to draw a moan of pain before she put paid to Emma’s thought of going straight back for the breast maul. Raising her body off Emma, she dropped back hard, landing her butt on Emma’s belly to crush the air out of her. Repeating the dose, she broke Emma’s defence, her legs dropping back to the mat and they were quickly captured by Sara’s legs in a controlling but not punishing grapevine at this point. The cat, it appeared, had captured it’s mouse in the trap, and could now start to tighten the hold, until Emma could take no more. At which point, the smother would be locked in fully to finish the contest. That was how it usually went anyway, but today, Sara had something else at play as she continued to allow Emma to battle the grapevine.

The American had just enough power in the grapevine to allow Emma, hands pinned above her head now, to battle it, trying hard to break the hold, all the time with Sara holding firm, allowing her to tire herself out. Emma knew that the super smother was surely coming now; how wrong she was. Content that Emma was worn down, Sara surprised her by breaking the grapevine and winded her instead with another heavy butt drop to the belly. Emma groaned loudly and speed was of the essence now for Sara, going to the hair and forcing Emma to all fours. There, she stepped in to trap her in a standing head scissors, a double handful of hair helping to secure it, before she fell to her side, taking Emma back to the mat in the crushing hold. Now it was one handful of hair and one of Emma’s left breast inside her green swimsuit that Sara held as additional collateral to her thunderously powerful scissor hold. Legs out straight, muscles tensed firmly, it was big trouble for Emma who let out a long and loud cry of pain. Sara had her nails into Emma’s breast now, forcing another loud shriek of pain as Emma suffered at her hands. Her legs too; crushing Emma’s head to great effect in the surprise finishing hold. It was clever from the American, finding something new to trouble a woman who knew her so well, and now she invited Emma to submit to it.

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‘Nooooo!’ Emma cried out, Sara replying by forcing her left breast out of her swimsuit now, stinging it with a hard slap before she reapplied her maul, using her nails into the bare flesh to add to the hold. Emma punched at Sara’s leg, Sara ripped at her auburn hair, and then she tensed her thighs once more. Now Emma moaned with pain, the combination of attacks starting to wear her out, chisel away the veneer of her resistance before it was finally broken. A twist of the breast combined with a long power packed squeeze on the scissors enough to force Emma to cry out ‘I submit!’

There was no thought of any extra curricular activity from Sara here. On other days in their rivalry, both ladies would have enjoyed the chance to deliver an extra squeeze, one last maul of the breast, just to underline their superiority. Right now though, they were in a different place, the old rivals new friends, and instead the extra squeeze that Emma got was in the form of a hug from the blonde as she pulled Emma into a seated position.

‘Not too bad Emma’ Sara told her, ‘it’s been a while, but you’ve still got it I think’ she laughed.

‘Maybe’ Emma allowed, ‘but today, you got me pretty good. And that head scissors!’ she exclaimed, ‘where did that come from, when did your legs get that strong!?’ Emma asked.

‘I used it to squeeze that bitch Helen out’ Sara told her, going on ‘and well….everyone knows the smother, so I thought I maybe needed something else to surprise people with.’

‘Well, it’ll work’ Emma said, rubbing her face as she remembered the power in the move. ‘It’s one of the stronger ones I’ve tasted’ she had to admit.

Another first following a catfight, certainly between these two, as we shared lunch and some more fighting stories after the fight. Perhaps most tellingly, Emma asking me to find her some new opponents now so that she could start working towards getting her title back. ‘That bitch Staci has it coming’ she announced looking at Sara, ‘and we’re both going to be the ones giving it to her!’