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Last summer, the local bar that I frequent, decided to hold a beauty
pageant as a promotion. It was quite a big deal among the regulars and a
group of them thought I should enter. I wasn't too keen on the idea, but
the finally were able to convince me to go for it, especially when I found
out that first prize was five hundred bucks.
I'm no slouch when it comes to looks and body and around the bar, I'm
pretty much numero uno when it comes to being the hot babe in town, so I
figured what the hell, and I went ahead and signed up. There were a total
of eight girls in the contest, most of whom were ringers brought in by other
regulars. They were either co-workers, neighbors, the girl friends of
friends, and all were somehow known by at least one or two of the bar's
faithfuls.
The pageant itself wasn't of the Miss America venue, it was more like a
cheap, sex laden, side show. Instead of an evening gown, swimsuit, and
talent competition; this one boasted a tiniest bikini contest, a sexiest
lingerie contest, and of course the obligatory wet T-shirt contest. I don't
think they were looking for girls who could play Mozart on the piano or sing
an aria from an Italian opera. What they wanted were boobs, asses, and
jiggly bare flesh on the hoof, and that's exactly what they got.
My competition looked formidable to say the least. Girl number one was
a blonde bimbo named Janelle who tried to look like the Madonna/Marilyn
Monroe type, complete with the mole on the face, the bright red lips, short
wavy blonde hair, and a classic centerfold body. It was a good thing the
judges weren't going to score for answers to questions because this airhead
couldn't have added up two plus two without a pocket calculator.
Contestant number two was another blonde, but this one was the tall,
lean, tanned beach bunny type who looked like she spent half her time in the
sun, the other half at the local gym. Her named was Kymberly, with two y's,
and she stood a good five foot nine in her bare feet. In high heels, she
towered over the rest of us. Kymberly wasn't overly big in the titty
department so I didn't see her as much of a threat in the wet T portion, but
I figured her as a contender in the bikini and lingerie portion.
Contestant three was a hot looking redhead with a pair of huge tits.
Lisa was her name and she was a classic ringer that someone brought in
specifically for the wet T contest. None of us had a prayer against the set
of boobs this chick was hauling around. I doubt she'd ever seen her own
feet because her chest was too big to be able to look down. The rest of her
wasn't bad either, if you could ever get your eyes off her tits to see the
rest of her. I envied Lisa's hair too which was long, wavy, and fiery red,
which for some reason, seems to make men crazy.
I was girl number four and while I certainly couldn't have competed for
Miss America, I knew I could hold my own against these girls. My
measurements were 37-25-35, I was 5'5" tall, weighed around 118, and had
light brown permed hair that was a little longer than shoulder length. My
claim to fame had always been my legs since I'd been a cheerleader and a
dancer and I was still in pretty good physical shape. I'd really outdone
myself with makeup and I was confident that I could place high if not
actually win.
Girl five was a brunette with an attitude named Gina who thought she
was the high priestess of the dressing room and the rest of us were there to
be at her beck and call. She was short, lean, solid, and very well put
together with a set of jugs that came very close to those of the redhead.
Gina had shiny waist length straight dark brown hair, brown eyes, and the
big pouty lips of a high fashion model. She carried a chip on her shoulder
though that weighed alot more than her tits and she let us all know from the
outset that she was going to win so we better suck up now rather than later.
Girl number six had an attitude problem too and I was the first to
predict a major hair pulling fight between Gina and this girl, whose name
was Paige. Paige was an aerobics instructor who was built solid as a rock
and drop dead gorgeous. She wasn't a whole lot in the titty department but
what she lacked there, she made up for elsewhere, especially in the face and
hair departments. She had silky fine strawberry blonde hair that fell in
delicate curls to her waist and she could have easily made the cover of most
magazines.
Contestant number seven was a short little shit that had to wear
stiletto heeled shoes to look out a window. She had that totally adorable
teen queen girl next door look about her and she had a nice body with ample
titties. Her thighs were a bit heavy but other than that, she was put
together by the numbers. Her name was Steffani and she had shoulder length
dark brown hair and big blue eyes.
The last contestant was another titty ringer whose name was Kara. She
had tits very close to Lisa's in size but she had the biggest nipples I'd
ever seen in my life. In the wet T-shirt contest, she was going to be
tough. She was a dark haired girl with well tanned skin and around my
height. Her face was pretty in a way, but for beauty, she was just an also
ran.
The eight of us shared a dressing room that the club used for it's
exotic dancers and there was room at the long, lighted makeup table for four
of us at a time. There was a good bit of tension in the air as we all
crowded around to put last minute touchups to our hair and makeup. Hair
spray was getting in girl's eyes, we were all bumping into each other, and
it was hot in there with all eight of us crowded into the small room.
The first event was the tiniest bikini contest and if you would have
sewn all the material from our eight bikinis together, you probably couldn't
have knitted a hand towel. You never saw so much flesh in all your life
gathered in one small room and I laughed as I looked at Lisa and Kara, who I
knew were going to explode the skimpy little tops they had on. There was no
way those bikini bras could possibly hold all that bouncing, jiggling meat
in those tiny triangles of sheer spandex.
We all took turns strutting our stuff and dancing on the stage beneath
the colored lights as the raspy voiced emcee who I found incredibly annoying
introduced us and made a weak attempt at humor by talking about the things
we'd listed on our information sheets pertaining to our individual hobbies
and interests. He was slightly prone to embellish the facts a bit because I
had put down that I enjoyed horseback riding and as he read his information
cards, he said to the audience "And Tammi likes bronc busting . . . on the
waterbed guys . . . if you know what I mean . . . " Well the crowd ate
that shit up and I got a standing ovation which I was okay about because I
figured crowd reaction would play some part in the decision of our
"distinguished" panel of judges that included a car mechanic, a welder, and
a plumber. Actually I'm guessing at their occupations, but that's the
impression I got from the way they drooled and ogled as we all jiggled
around up on the stage.
I'd never done anything like this before and as I tried to see the
audience with the bright lights in my eyes, I kind of liked the sensation of
being in the spotlight. I might have even enjoyed it more had I been
wearing any clothes. The bikini I was wearing was a florescent hot pink
number that was super stretchy spandex and didn't cover a fucking thing.
The only other thing I had on was a pair of black patent leather high heels
and a big smile. As I jiggled and wiggled and bounced and played with
myself on stage, I really got into it, doing shit I know I would never have
done if I could have actually seen the audience. It was like being alone
almost since all I could see were the lights and just faint blurs and
outlines of people as they moved around from table to table. I was almost
disappointed when my time was up and had to leave the stage. The manager
came up to me in the hallway, smiled, and told me "Kid, you stole the show.
You're doing great. Keep it up."
With my ego now set on super high, I began to change for the sexiest
lingerie portion of the contest. Being fourth in line, I got the last seat
at the makeup table and was putting on my nylons as Gina came stomping in,
looked around, and made an offhand comment about not having a place to sit
to do her makeup while I was hogging the makeup table to just put my nylons
on. I blew off the comment and ignored her.
I got my sheer black stockings on, straightened the seams, and made
sure they were well attached to the black lace garterbelt I'd put on over my
sheer little black silk string bikinis. Gina was standing between Lisa and
me and kept pushing closer and closer toward the mirror trying to be as
annoying and distracting as she could so one of us would move, giving her a
chair, but neither of us did. She finally back off and Lisa and I just
smiled at each other, both of knowing that she was just an obnoxious bitch.
All eight of us were now in the small dressing room once again and as I
put the finishing touches on my makeup, Gina pushed back between Lisa and me
again.
"Aren't you done yet?" she said rudely, standing there now in just a
cheap, sleazy little pair of black and red silk and lace string bikinis.
"No actually," I said rather smugly, "I'm not."
"Well I need the mirror," Gina said boldly as she pushed in closer.
Her right tit wound up pressing against my left shoulder and I didn't
appreciate being crowded, especially since she was doing it just to be rude.
"Get your fucking tits off me bitch," I said harshly.
"I told you I needed in here," she said, pushing harder against my
shoulder to provoke me.
"Back off Goddamnit," I hissed, getting pissed off now.
"I can't do my makeup with your tits all over me."
"So move then," she said coldly as she started to put on her lipstick.
"I SAID BACK OFF!" I shouted as I turned slightly and gave her a little
push that was just enough to make her get lipstick on her cheek.
"Look what you did!" she screamed as she threw her vial of lipstick
down on the makeup table. Then her lips curled back into a sneer as she let
out a scream and lunged at me, grabbing me by the hair and dragging me out
of my chair. The girls all screamed and backed off as chairs got knocked
over and makeup flew in all directions from the makeup table as I tried to
grab something to hang onto.
Gina was in her bare feet and I'd already put my high heels back on and
I couldn't recover enough from her attack to gain my balance on top of my
five inch heels. As I went down, I somehow managed to grab a handful of her
long waist length dark brown hair and dragged her to the dirty wooden floor
with me and the fight was on. All six of the other girls were cheering and
coaching and offering encouragement as Gina and I locked together on the
floor in a wild hair pulling cat fight.
We tore at each into each other like two alley cats, slapping, clawing,
pulling hair, cursing, screaming, and yelping as sharp fingernails dug into
bare flesh. Our legs entwined as we rolled around on the floor, fighting
tooth and nail with all we had. The contest was forgotten, the other girls
were forgotten, the panic stricken manager trying to get through the locked
door with the bouncers was forgotten as we writhed around frenetically,
viciously mauling each other's scantily attired bodies.
I was in a blind rage now, grabbing and clawing her bare tits, trying
to rip off her panties, and trying to tear out her hair by the roots.
Unfortunately, Gina was trying to do the same things to me and we were very
evenly matched when it came to strength, speed, and dirty cat fighting
tactics.
The bouncers finally broke through the door just as I was beginning to
get the better of her and they yanked me off the little bitch just as I was
about to finish her off. I kicked and clawed and fought the two big burly
bouncers but I was no match for them and finally calmed down a little. Gina
was a mess. A few clumps of hair were missing, one of which was still in my
right hand, and her tits had a few nasty claw marks on them. Looking down
at myself, I realized I wasn't in any better shape. My nylons had holes and
runs, two of my garters had snapped off, and I had some red welts and a few
pink scratches that already beginning to swell and sting. I hadn't felt
anything during the fight since I was so caught up in the blood lust of my
savage, primitive, alter ego, but now that it was over, I began to feel each
sore muscle in my body and was a bit surprised that a fight as short as ours
had made me so sore. The fight had only lasted about one minute but had
been wild and wooly enough for me to begin to feel each place on my body
that she'd clawed or slapped.
We were both disqualified from the pageant for fighting and when the
other six went through the lingerie competition, the crowd voiced its
disapproval that Gina and I, who had apparently been the two favorites among
the crowd, weren't there. I could hear them booing as the manager announced
our disqualifications but he held his ground and even with their vocal
harassment, he refused to allow Gina and I to go on with the pageant. Gina
had been taken to another room in the club and I quickly dressed, packed my
overnight bag with my bikini and what was left of my tattered lingerie, and
headed for my car.
I got in the car, threw my bag on the passenger seat, rolled down the
window, and started the engine. I never saw the shadowy figure approaching
my car and by the time I heard her high heels clicking on the cement, it was
too late.
Gina reached through my open window and grabbed me by the hair. I was
already locked into my seatbelt and all I could do was grab her hair and
struggle with her. She was viciously jerking my head from side to side as I
fumbled with the seatbelt catch with one hand while pulling her hair with
the other. I finally got out of the seatbelt but still was trapped in the
car with her leaning all her weight against the outside of the door. I
started throwing punches and slaps at her wildly, hitting her and hitting
the window frame of the car at the same time. Then she backed off a step
and grabbed the door handle to open the door and when she did, I slammed the
car in gear and sped away, leaving her behind, cursing and flipping me the
bird.
I was crying and it was hard to see the road as I slowly headed for
home, safe now that I was well away from the crazy bitch, Gina. I stopped
to pick up a six pack and to use the ladies room to fix my makeup and hair
that Gina had seen fit to ruin for a second time. Feeling better now that
I'd not only survived one fight, but two, I turned on the car stereo and
took my time cruising home.
As I turned, I noticed the car behind me turned too. I didn't think
too much about it until it happened again, and then again. Someone was
following me. I sped up to try to lose whoever it was, and although I
wasn't sure, I figured it was probably Gina and I had no intentions of
getting into a third cat fight with this crazy bitch, especially on a dark,
deserted road at one o'clock in the morning. The car behind me sped up with
me so I started taking round about side roads to try to lose her but she
stayed with me every inch of the way. I was close to home now but I didn't
want her to find out where I lived so I took a wrong turn, forgetting about
the road closure and construction area ahead. As I came to the yellow
barricade, the car was right on my rear bumper and as I stopped, she hit the
back of my car hard enough to give me a little jolt and really piss me off.
I jumped out of the car at the same time she did, and right there in
the bright light of her driver's side headlight that jutted at an oblique
angle from the crumpled fender, Gina and I tore into each other again. We
were both in jeans and tops as we each dug our claws into another's hair and
began struggling around on the road surface in our tall heels.
Both of us were bent over at the waist as we savagely dragged each
other around, in and out of the wide shaft of light from her high beam.
It took only a few seconds for Gina and I to start the obligatory
clothes ripping ritual to go along with our hair pulling ceremony, and as
the sound of tearing fabric split the silence of the still night, we
systematically stripped one another of our flimsy little tops, then our
bras, and were soon battling tooth and nail in just our blue jeans and bare
feet.
We fought close to the cars and then Gina got me backed up against the
front fender of my Chevy and forced me back onto the hood. I dragged her
down with me and we rolled off the hood and hit the ground in front of my
car. Light still streamed over us from underneath my car as we thrashed
about on the ground, rolling dangerously close to the yellow saw horse type
barricade. We rolled again and crashed into the barricade with enough force
to knock it over and send us both rolling down a muddy embankment into a
pool of muddy water six inches deep left over from the day's earlier rain
storm.
We were now in darkness and out of the illuminating car lights,
slithering and sliding around in the six inches of water and the six to
eight inches of mud below it. The cool water felt good but the feeling was
short lived as Gina began to maul my bare wet titties now with one hand
while still trying to rip my hair out with the other. We struggled to our
knees, dripping mud and water, and began exchanging slaps to the face one
for one that sent muddy water flying from our hair as each vicious slap
cracked against our wet cheeks.
Then I grabbed at her hair again and this time I wound her long tresses
tightly around my clenched fists to where she couldn't pull away, no matter
how slippery and slimy her hair was from the mud. I spun her around and she
careened backwards taking me along with her. She fell against the bank we'd
just rolled down and as I fell atop her, we snaked our legs together and
began writhing around in the soft, silty mire. We were out of the water
from the knees up, laying at about a forty five degree angle in the deep,
soft mud. The soft mud oozed between our legs, filling our jeans and making
them weigh what felt like a ton as we squirmed about on the bank pulling
each other's long hair like the two vicious she cats we were.
Gina then started grabbing and clawing at my jeans, them being the only
thing she was able to hang onto in the slippery mud. We were both trying to
use our thighs like boa constrictors to crush each other from the mutual leg
lock we had going. The mud squirted between our thighs and even penetrated
my pussy as we slithered around. She bucked hard then and rolled me off her
onto my back, still in the deep mud, and got on top. I quickly released her
hair and dug all ten claws into her wet, slippery, mud caked tits that
brought an immediate scream from her lips.
She then retaliated in kind and we wound up locked in a wild tit fight
right there in the mud with our thighs and legs hopelessly entangled like
wrestling snakes. We slipped and slid and squirmed and wriggled about,
locked in what was now becoming a perverse life or death battle of sheer
will power and endurance. I couldn't quit because I had no idea what she'd
do to me if I gave up because from what I'd seen, the bitch was crazy.
We fought on for what seemed like an eternity, neither of us able to
get the better of the other. My jeans and hers had both come down far
enough from the weight of the mud to where we were bound together now in
bondage as if someone had used our jeans as ropes to tie us together. I
couldn't escape even if I wanted to at that point, but then, neither could
Gina.
We were both nearing total exhaustion by this point from the intense
struggle not only against each other, but from battling the heavy wet mud
that hindered our every movement and was weighing us both down. We
exchanged the upper hand again and again by rolling to the left and then
back to the right in the narrow trough of mud that our struggling had
created in the embankment. Finally I was able to shake the jeans off one of
my legs that had gathered like a mud filled bag around my ankles and with a
leg free, I used it to dig into the mud and was actually able to finally get
enough leverage to pull free of the clawing bitch.
I tried to crawl up the bank by using Gina to push off from but as I
ascended in the slippery mud, she grabbed one of my ankles and pulled my
back down into the mire with her. I spun around and caught her solidly with
an elbow to the head that stunned her momentarily and rather than try
another half hearted escape attempt, I decided to drive the attack home and
finish her off.
Getting on top now, I managed to straddle her and throw several hard
slaps to her face that snapped her head once to the right and then to the
left. I grabbed her hair, pulled her head up out of the mud, and threw the
hardest punch I could muster to her face that knocked her hard back down
into the mud, leaving a torn out clump of her hair in my other hand as her
head snapped backwards. She was done for and as I sat there in the total
silence of the moment, gasping for air, I wondered how I was going to get
back up the bank, find what was left of my clothes, and get home before she
came to.
After I was halfway up the bank I stopped, slid back down, grabbed
Gina, and slowly made my way back up, pulling her through the mud with me so
as to not leave her laying there. I finally got to the top and left her
there as I got my shredded bra and top, pulled on what was left of them, and
got in my car.
When I got home, I called the police and told them what had happened
and where they could find Gina. No charges were ever pressed and neither of
sustained any serious injury in the titanic battle that had spanned three
locations during the night. I've never seen Gina again to this day but I
know she's out there, somewhere, and eventually our paths might cross again.
I've got no desire to fight her again, but if the bitch ever jumps me again,
she'll get another dose of my nasty side.
THE END
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