Mr. Cavalier

Cavalier Magazine Online

Sarah muttered something under her breath, then clicked the SEND button to transmit her answer to her rival.

The next day was Friday, and Jamie found Sarah’s reply in her email account right after her last class of the afternoon. She read it anxiously, then smiled with grim satisfaction. The busty blonde cheerleader had accepted her offer, and now it was time to act! She opened her desk drawer, took out the pad on which she had made some notes, then reached for her desk phone. All she needed to do was make a few calls, and everything would be ready for tomorrow night!

It took less than an hour. Jamie lined up a motel room at a notorious, by-the-hour dive a few miles from campus, where the price was low, the amenities few and the manager obligingly casual about who rented rooms, and why. She also arranged for rental of videotaping equipment from a discount electronics shop near campus that rented gear by the day. The sales rep had explained that a decent video camera and tripod could be had for a reasonable sum, that the camera would operate fine in low light, and that it was able to operate automatically while mounted on a tripod. (The sales rep was all-too-familiar with campus couples who enjoyed making their own sex videos, and was well-prepared for such requests. What he did not know was that this rental was going to record war-making, not lovemaking!) Finally, Jamie obtained a Saturday mid-afternoon manicure appointment at one of the many nail shops on the college’s main drag. She wanted to be certain she was well-prepared for the battle she was sure would develop into a hellish scratchfest!

Her phone arrangements made, Jamie went back to her computer and sent a new email to Sarah. This one was short and to the point:

“Sarah,

I’ve reserved a room for us for tomorrow night at the Roadside Manor, just north of campus. Be at room 113 at 8pm. I’ll have everything ready.

Jamie

P.S. Wear something sexy, bitch – you’re going to be in pictures!”

Jamie was not altogether surprised when, only a few moments after she’d sent the email, she received a reply from her blonde rival:

“Jamie,

See you at 8pm tomorrow, whore. Don’t dress in anything you’ll want to wear again.

Love, Sarah.

P.S. In case you were wondering, I’m going to go for your face first!”

That night, both girls slept fitfully. Jamie toyed with the idea of calling Jon and letting him in on her plan, then decided against it. She wanted the outcome, whatever it was, to be a Valentine’s surprise for him. Sarah, for her part, had considered calling Jamie and asking her to come over to her dorm room right now to fight, then decided that wasn’t smart. Some girl on the floor, or one of the nosy floor wardens would surely hear the commotion, and attempt to interfere. No, Sarah knew that when she did fight Jamie, she wanted no one around to get in the way, or try to separate them. Once they started going at it, only a decisive, final victory by one of them would settle their little problem.

Saturday morning and afternoon passed with agonizing slowness. Sarah and Jamie both considered at length what to wear for their fight. They wanted to look as sexy and attractive as possible, both because the video would record their appearance for Jon, and because they wanted to psych each other out. There is no better way to start a catfight than by trying to show your rival that you’re more attractive, and sexier, than she is. It demoralizes your opponent, and makes it that much easier to secure victory. During her nail appointment, Jamie fantasized about the upcoming contest, and wondered how badly the two coeds would disfigure each other with their nails. She then shrugged, and dismissed the thought. Catfighting was about trying as hard as possible to hurt and humiliate your opponent, and getting hurt in return, until one of you could not continue. No sense in worrying about it.

Once the blood-red polish on her freshly-manicured nails was dry, she drove over to the electronics shop and with no difficulty, secured the video rental. Now, she was ready. She got back in her car, then headed back to her dorm to pack a couple of overnight bags with the things she’d be needing.

At precisely seven, Jamie carefully gathered the things she’d packed, got in her car, and drove uneventfully the five miles north to the cheap motel. She left her bags in the car while she went to the office to check in, pay the bill, and get the key. She was not surprised that the night clerk seemed utterly bored. Good! She quickly walked back to her car, grabbed her two bags, set the locks and car alarm, then walked to the front door of room 113, where the electronic key let her in easily.

She looked around the seedy room. The carpet was spotted, the light was not very good, and there was precious little furniture, save for a king-size bed in the middle of the room, and a couple of night tables on each side of the headboard. A nondescript painting hung pathetically on the wall facing the window. The ceiling featured mirror tiles over the bed, and the room smelled vaguely of cigarettes and beer. For the use to which the room would be put, it was - perfect!


Cavalier Magazine Online

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