Rockhead

For those who had the time / patience to read my first Shona story, below is the follow up. Here the raven-haired ice maiden must take on a feisty, determined and very sexy 18 year old rival...

Rockhead

Chelsea squinted briefly at the sun as she stepped onto the mat. It certainly hadn’t got any cooler, and here she was, still slightly fatigued from her battle with Lizzy and suddenly having to face up to Shona who, in fairness, had only just finished fighting Louise. Chelsea gently adjusted the straps of her powder blue bikini, making herself as comfortable as she could for the coming duel – fighting a hard, fit woman who, unlike Lizzy for whom Chelsea had no particular feelings for, she felt nothing but hatred.
And naturally, it was mutual. Shona was tired of the perky, precocious Chelsea who, she opined, had no business playing around in the adult world just yet. Shona’s thick eyeliner was smudged following her tussle with Louise, but other than a light sheen of perspiration, she looked fit, firm and battle ready. Her black bikini firmly tied, she stood, hands on hips, looking over her taller but much younger opponent – Chelsea’s slim body strong and fit, a gentle tan to her skin and her hair a lovely dusty blonde.

Chelsea stepped forward, licked her lips, rolled her head and shoulders. Cocking her right hip, she tilted her head and offered an enquiring, raised eyebrow. “First to submission?” Shona smiled back, without humour. “Completely. Shouldn’t take long. No ref to hold things up.” Chelsea’s expression darkened. “I’m totally glad there’s no fuckin’ ref!” Locking her steel gaze into Chelsea’s blue eyes, Shona advanced, bent slightly forward, with arms extended and hands up.

Chelsea took up a high crouch to match Shona’s, hands extended from elbows at her side, aware that with her extra inch or two of height, she’d have better reach. The teenager rocked forward onto the balls of her feet, slipping an arm out quickly, feeling for Shona’s right arm. Too quick, Shona grabbed the questing wrist in her right hand. Teeth gritted, she pulled her opponent savagely towards her. Planting her feet firmly in an open stance, she tried to grab Chelsea’s other arm to pull her further off balance. Chelsea stepped in, feeling her arms twisting, but tensing and matching Shona for strength. They staggered together on the mat, exhaling harsh bursts of air, as they struggled for initial supremacy. Shona scythed her right leg out, wrapping a calf around the nearest ankle. With a grunt, she brought all her strength to bear on Chelsea, hoping to trip and send her crashing to the mat.

Chelsea fell, but as she did so she kept her grip of Shona’s arm, hoping to take the raven-tressed warrior down with her. Hitting the mat, Chelsea twisted, groaning, using her momentum to try and haul Shona down and over her. Sensing herself being dragged down in one fluid motion, Shona grimaced as she was yanked, suddenly coming to rest with a thump on the mat. Shona gasped and bucked, feeling her nipples become erect with the excitement and intimacy of combat. She looked at Chelsea, having not expected her to be quite so quick. Moving with all her gym-honed speed, Shona was immediately on her side and almost up, moving fast, sliding onto Chelsea, her right leg wrapping around Chelsea’s uppermost side. Shona jabbed her left foot at Chelsea’s thrashing legs, trying to keep them at bay. She clasped Chelsea’s left hand, flexing, twisting that slender wrist, trying to force the younger girl onto her back.

With her own legs seemingly blocked, Chelsea felt the power of Shona’s leg over her waist and then saw a new, worse danger as Shona attempted to force her other leg underneath, trying to wrap Chelsea in a classic – and possibly match-ending – body scissors. Instead, Chelsea allowed herself to be pushed onto her back, Shona trying to mount, her black pony tail swinging. With Shona perched on top, their hands interlaced, and the graceful feminine muscle of both combatants flexed as they powered against each other. Shona noted the hatred in Chelsea’s eyes as they struggled together, Shona going for the pin, Chelsea desperate to eject her tormentor.

Showing courage and agility of her own, Chelsea bucked upwards with a throaty grunt, tensing and then flexing her entire body in a mighty jerk. Shona, to her astonishment, was thrown up and off, landing in a forward roll over where Chelsea’s head had been. For both girls, perspiration began to shine on silken flesh, heartbeats accelerating, nipples stiffening. Not wanting to appear phased, Shona was again onto the younger girl. This time, she launched herself across Chelsea’s front, effectively forming the top bar of a T shape, trying to pin Chelsea’s arm out to the side and bringing her chest down onto her face.

“Fuck’s sake!” moaned Chelsea, feeling her left wrist nailed to the mat, and then in an instant her nose and mouth were being crushed under Shona’s firm, black-cupped breasts. Chelsea writhed, wincing as her back was pressed into the burning mat, pounding her feet and thrusting her hips. Struggling, she forced her head to her right, enabling her both to breathe and keep an eye on Shona’s legs which were engaged in a so far fruitless struggle to trap Chelsea’s other arm. Chelsea brought her feet up high towards the gently rounded curves of her bottom, desperate to get some leverage.

Frowning, intense with concentration, Shona tried to snare that free arm between her legs, spreading and snapping again and again in frustration, as she endeavoured to keep her weight pinned firmly on Chelsea’s face. Clenching her teeth, Chelsea told herself to concentrate, concentrate, to control her escalating breathing and the not unpleasant but certainly distracting tingling sensation that came now from various parts. Chelsea worked her right hand around Shona’s waist, just above her hips. Another breath, and then she bridged upwards hard and high with all her might, needing Shona off her.

With a moan of frustration, Shona was rolled off, ejected from a position of dominance for a second time. Still keeping her wits about her, she released Chelsea’s left hand and instead used both arms to get control of the younger girl’s head as she started to rise. Slipping one arm around the back of her head and using the other forearm to bar her throat, Shona rose to her knees, pulling back hard, her small but well defined shoulder muscles rippling and gleaming wet. Frustration mounting rapidly, Chelsea turned her face inwards, towards Shona’s body, needing to keep her windpipe clear. Gratefully gulping oxygen Chelsea rose with Shona, pushing back, and immediately grasped the constricting hands, working to take the iron fingers and bend them back.

Shona brayed a long, hoarse cry as Chelsea bent and twisted her fingers. She had no choice but to release her, whip her pained hand backwards and out of Chelsea’s grip. Both girls rose to their knees, eyes blazing with anger. Sensing no time to waste, Chelsea sprang, immediately coming down on top of a clearly surprised and shocked Shona. In an instant Chelsea’s long legs were around Shona’s sides, and, grasping Shona’s long pony tail, Chelsea pulled the 30-year-old into her own death grip. Now the girls lay on their sides, face to face on the mat, the difference this time being that Chelsea had her legs around Shona, tightening her grip, straightening her legs and crossing her ankles, while pulling on Shona’s hair. Shona, benefiting from her usual animal instinct, had got an arm in there to take off the edge from Chelsea’s scissors, but at last her icy gaze was now cast into an open-mouthed silent scream of pain and dismay as Chelsea squeezed her.

*continues below...

Rockhead

Shona’s fingers dug into the flesh of Chelsea’s uppermost thigh as the torture continued. Chelsea, with both arms, pulled hard on the pony tail, dragging Shona’s head halfway back over her shoulders, while her thighs flexed repeatedly. Shona’s screwed-tight eyes welled with enraged tears that occasionally ran free from the corners sending her already smudged eyeliner down her face in grim greyish trails. Finally, with a hoarse roar, Shona’s free hand clamped onto one of Chelsea’s ample breasts, surprising the determined teen. Within moments Shona had almost pulled both powder blue cups away from their contents. Momentarily stunned at the intrusion, a snarling Chelsea gasped in horror, abandoned Shona’s hair and instead wrested the garment back into place. She was shocked at how close she’d come to being exposed, and had absolutely no intention of displaying more flesh than she was comfortable with.

The teen’s evident embarrassment was all the encouragement Shona needed. Concealed though they remained, Shona seized Chelsea’s lower breast in her free hand and mashed it desperately, squeezed it, twisted it, her internal organs in throes of torment thanks to Chelsea’s constricting legs. Chelsea screamed a high pitched protest, her legs finally slackening as a grateful Shona began to move within the hold, trying to battle her way out and on top. Gradually Shona began to emerge, now bringing both hands to Chelsea’s assets. Chelsea, backing away and forced onto her back, roared as the torture continued, her hands now engaged in their own private war with Shona’s hands, struggling to prize Shona’s fingers from her vulnerable breasts. Chelsea’s hair thrashed from side to side in anger and pain. She made a desperate lunge for Shona, striking her with an open palm on the cheek. As she did so, Shona wrenched the side of Chelsea’s top, freeing one and then the other breast, the dark pink nipples atop each mound stiffened with excitement and the rousing of such primal emotion. Chelsea’s hands snatched out at her departing top, despairing grabs, before finally giving it up. Again she slapped Shona and also grabbed one of her assailants own small breasts, crushing it between her knuckles.

“Bitch!” spat Chelsea, wanting to roll onto her front to cover herself. “You little slut,” seethed back Shona, and suddenly it was war, the girls pulling at each other’s hair, clawing, slapping, and rolling together in a terrible struggle. Utterly absorbed in one another, nothing in the outside world meant the slightest thing anymore. Nothing outside of this hatred, this rivalry, this feral, rolling, spiteful battle. At one point, Chelsea planted a foot between Shona’s legs, right over her trim and flat abdomen, as she gripped one of Shona’s ankles and tried to twist it. Shona lay back – she had little choice - hands over her eyes, yelling out short, wretched cries as Chelsea tormented her. She tried to kick back but her free leg simply wasn’t long enough, and Chelsea was fight savvy enough to sit well back as she worked with both hands on Shona’s ankle. “Give it up you bitch” hissed Chelsea, wanting this to be over, wanting to cover herself. She twisted the leg while aiming repeated heel blows deep between Shona’s legs. The older woman recoiled on the mat with each blow, head thrashing and bellowing ‘Oooohh’ and ‘Arrrggh’ with every twist and kick. It was the humiliation of receiving blows to the crotch rather than pain that stung her most. Calling on all her strength, Shona used the direction of Chelsea’s twisting to roll right over, at last freeing herself from Chelsea’s cruel grip.

But Chelsea kept her advantage, overpowering Shona from behind, using her youth and height to muscle in. Chelsea rolled Shona onto her back, allowing herself to drop heavily onto her stomach, sitting there, forcing the wind out of Shona via a scream that barely hissed. Shona was prone beneath her but with both hands firmly among Chelsea’s now disorderly dusty blonde mop, pulling and wrenching at her locks. Chelsea struggled forward, trying to sit on Shona’s chin and face, thereby getting her arms under control, but she had edged only as far as her hated opponent’s heaving chest when Shona’s hands again tore into her vulnerable, exposed breasts. Chelsea’s eyes goggled in disbelief, and she threw her head back in pain. Having mauled and raked, and motivated not merely by her desire to defeat Chelsea but by her own uniquely female brand of jealousy, Shona applied both hands to just one breast, twisting the flesh in different directions with both hands. Chelsea screamed and reared backwards, cupping herself, and ending up on her back with Shona now bearing down on her.

Shona straddled her school girl style, this time squeezing her thighs in tight, knees nipping into Chelsea’s ribs. The girls thrashed at each other, before linking hands, lacing fingers, struggling for superiority. Slowly, inch by inch, Shona lowered Chelsea’s hands to the mat, the teenager moaning with effort, frustrated, starting to weaken. Shona’s jaw hung open, her eyes half closed with determination and concentration, trying to pin this strong and determined opponent. Chelsea, eyes squeezed shut, yelled out in effort as she suddenly forced herself up and onto her side, still firmly between Shona’s legs. But Shona still had control of both the blonde’s arms, and now wrapped the uppermost arm up behind Chelsea’s gleaming, perspiring back, locking it in hard, the classic hammerlock between the shoulder blades. As she forced a dismayed Chelsea slowly over onto her front, Shona grabbed the top string of her opponent’s bikini briefs, yanking it viciously upwards. Chelsea bawled out, high pitched in indignation, as the thin material all but vanished between her buttocks, folding so taut and painful between her legs.

On her front now, furious and humiliated, Chelsea reared up, mouth wide open, but at that point Shona abandoned the wedgie and hammerlock, and hands came in a blur of speed to the teenager’s face. One hand instantly found a grip inside Chelsea’s top jaw, fingers curling beneath her front teeth, while the other did the same over her bottom teeth. “You little bitch! I warned you!” hissed Shona, as she reared back, pulling Chelsea’s head backwards and wrenching her jaws apart. Chelsea emitted a long, ululating cry, feeling herself lifted, her breasts leaving the mat, knowing that this was similar, but somehow worse, to the manner in which Louise had faced final submission. Chelsea’s hands clawed at Shona’s. She tasted blood, with no idea if it were Shona’s fingers or her stretched-open mouth that was the source. She cried aloud, all wordless fury and pain.

Finally, with the momentum clearly all her own, Shona whipped her cut fingers from Chelsea’s mouth, and lunged to the side, allowing Chelsea’s desperate body to snap into place between her legs. Shona buried Chelsea’s head deep within her upper thighs, a python grip that made Chelsea feel her skull would explode. The stunned blonde issued a muffled wail and immediately beat out her submission firmly on the mat. Three taps, in quick succession, a need to be free.

Shona rose to her feet, leaving Chelsea to roll on the floor, one hand attending to her jaw, and the other forearm protectively concealing her breasts. Shona tried to walk away in that upright, pneumatic way of old, but as she left the mat she almost stumbled. Her body had been pushed to its maximum limit, had almost let go. But she remained, for now, dominant – the hard-faced one that nobody really wanted to cross. Shona felt a tingle of excitement, and almost – but not quite – allowed herself to smile.

Rockhead

That's very kind of you - that brought a smile to my face this cold, cold morning.

The pics are just things I found on the net. No one specific but they add a certain something, and the one at the top in particular reminds me of the main character.

(PS - hope you received those pics ok bigpoppapump)