Arrogance and Beauty
It happened five years ago. In June. It was the first time I ran into
arrogant Irishka. We didn’t like each other at once. Although 28-year-old
Irishka was strikingly good-looking! A little bit shorter than me, slender,
covered by beautiful suntan. Her legs were perfect: long and strong, she had a
round little ass, but her tits looked like a virgin’s. Irishka had a daughter –
they said Irishka had refused to feed the baby to keep her breast beautiful. And
she had a wonderful waterfall of curly red hair! She wore them freely, and only
in fights she would do them in a funny ponytail.
And her tongue was like a gaff – watch out!
This pretty woman would tease me on everything: my hairdo, my voice, my body, my
age. I am very calm, but I cannot stand being teased like that! I challenged her
to a fight. She was to determine the terms. She decided to fight naked with no
arms. With no breaks and no rules.
We undressed to fight. Irishka was really pretty – there was not a single white
spot on her body, her pussy was shaven, all the limbs were smooth. Seeing me
naked, she couldn’t help teasing me again. I was calm: everybody knows that
boldness and bad language are the signs of weakness. I had all the advantages:
experience and age. Irishka was five years younger than me, I am taller and
lighter. And I guess I’m more dexterous than this arrogant bitch...
...And suddenly, I realized: I am going to lose this fight. No, I didn’t have a
vision or something like it, I just realized that I was going to lose. I wasn’t
afraid of fighting, though, and I planned the fight as I usually did. I decided
to try to strangle Irishka and kick her in the groin with my knee. No rules is
no rules!
I rushed to her and squeezed her neck with my hands. But Irishka kicked me in
the underarms with her fists! My hands weakened and let her neck go. I quickly
dodged backwards. I was calm like a stone. Even foreseeing the sad end, I kept
calm. I decided to stun her by numerous blows in her belly. It was good tactics,
it used to help me in many situations.
I approached her. I felt her hard nipples and the heat of her young body. I
clenched my fists and began peppering her with sharp blows! She was stunned! I
hardened the blows, and I have quite forgotten of my own protection. And I
underestimated Irishka’s stamina. All of a sudden, she kicked me! Twice. In the
groin and in the belly. She kicked me in the very knot of my life! I lost my
breath and stepped back, covering the belly with my hands...
Irishka didn’t hurry to defeat me. Of course she teased me and my clumsy
position. Alas, she was right! I behaved just like a silly damsel!
Little by little, I recovered my breath. I stopped trembling and took the
position. I covered the belly with my left arm and began approaching Irishka.
And nevertheless, I left I was going to lose.
The defeat came suddenly and quickly. Feeling myself protected, I rushed to
Irishka, aiming at her shaven pussy. And she raised her foot to strike me in the
bosom! Everything went black before my eyes. All the air flew away from me.
...The witnesses of the final minutes of the fight then told me that Irishka
actually raped me. She kicked me cruelly, trying to hit the pussy, sat on my
face, masturbated over my numb tongue and finally dragged me to a shallow river
nearby. “If the gods want so,” said the cruel girl, “Nica won’t drown!”
The gods wanted me to live. My head, just by accident, rested on a small rock.
Only at night could I finally crawl out of the river, on all fours. Then it took
me a month to get well. Priestess Ena said I was at the very threshold of death.
At first I drank a lot of tisanes, stayed in bed and dreamed of vengeance. Then
I recovered, began exercising and getting ready for the revenge.
I met Irishka again in summer, in the very middle of July. She had just swum a
little and was drying in a beautiful pose. I quietly approached her and kicked
her tanned ass as hard as I could! Irishka turned around with a squeal – and I
slapped her face! Like a frog, she fell on the sand, then jumped to her feet,
cursing me. I wasn’t offended, I got what I wanted – an invitation for a fight.
I was left to make the terms. And they were simple: to death, with swords and
leather sashes, with no breaks. Irishka agreed and offered to fight at night, a
few hours later – so that more spectators could come and see the show.
I was listening to myself very carefully as the sun was slowly sliding along the
blue sky. I was very scared to experience that feeling again, the one I had
before the latest fight. But it never came! On the contrary, I was penetrated by
the spirit of sure victory. Irishka left, and I swam, then slept a little in the
shade of the trees. I have never been so calm!
Oh no, I don’t like making a show of a fight. And only that day I felt an
unusual boost of power seeing many dozens of women watch me fight. I think I
felt like Irishka, and I wondered whether this silly girl was able to embody me!
Then she arrived. Nude, like a bronze statuette, throwing kisses all around...
“You’re gonna see me kill this big-breasted bitch! I’m gonna plunge my sword in
her guts! Right in her bellybutton! You’ll die, bitch!”
I listened to her with a morbid smile. I felt a wave of nauseating fear coming
from this courageous beauty. I said:
“You are free to decide, Irishka. Will you fight?”
Irishka glanced at me in a strange kind of way. I never understood what was in
her eyes that made me wonder. Surprise? Question? Astonishment? But there was
not a trace of her self-assurance and anger. Moving somewhat slowly, Irishka
wrapped her leather belt around her waist and took her sword which was a few
inches longer than mine.
I thought the fight would be long and tiring. But as soon as Irishka began
approaching me, I understood she could dance and fidget with the sword, not
fight with it. She looked wonderful – slim red-haired vixen with an arrogant
face. But she was doomed. Too much dancing, too much extravagant posing. And too
slow fencing. She tried to hit me in the chest – and I dodged the blow easily.
She made a long move, obviously aiming at my belly, and I knocked her sword
aside with a clang.
And I won.
I stepped forward, waved my sword and it ate into the soft flesh. I hit her
right below her belt. It wasn’t deep, but it was enough. Irishka jerked in pain,
craned her neck and screamed:
“AAAAAAAAh!”
I pulled the sword out. Irishka’s scream turned into a moan, as light as a
child’s. She fell on her knees, dropped her sword and covered the wound... I
calmly took her ponytail and wiped my blade.
Irishka was still moaning, softer and softer. Suddenly she turned her face to
me. Tears were running from her dark eyes. She whispered:
“Niiiica... pain... oooooh... I’m wounded... oooh, Nica, don’t touch me! I don’t
want to die...”
I took her curly ponytail and rolled it around my wrist, causing her to look at
me. And I answered:
“Oh, you don’t want to die, do you? That is very reasonable of you, Irishka! But
you’ve just promised to kill me! You wanted to plunge your sword in my guts!
Knowing how weak my belly is! And you saw I was fighting with an open belly! So
now you beg me not to touch you?!”
Irishka was absolutely helpless. She could think of nothing except her own life.
Trembling, crying, she moaned:
“Oh, Nica, Nica! Forgive me! Forgive me!”
I am not at all cruel. But that day was exceptional. I heard Irishka’s moans and
thought about our last fight, her nasty threats and their nasty embodiment. Then
I remembered myself in that dirty river, half-dead. And then I thought about how
Irishka would fulfill her today’s promise. With a sparkle in her eyes, she’d
plunge her sword in my belly, throw me on the ground, stand her pretty leg on my
body, dance on my corpse, tease me...
And I answer in just one word:
“No.”
Copyright by Nica (2002).