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    BSQ Chapter 3 The French Exchange - part 4


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    BSQ Chapter 3 The French Exchange - part 4

    Thanks for staying the course with this latest chapter. Although the scene setting continues apace, there is some serious action in today's instalment if you scroll down, I promise!

    I will take full responsibility for any grammatical errors caused by my rudimentary grasp of the French language.


    All the characters and their names in the following story are fictional and over 18. I hope you enjoy reading the “Boarding School Queen” titfighting and sexfighting series. ? Ragnar0k

    Previous chapters are available under my pen name here:

    The HUGE list of female rivalry's erotic stories


    Previous episodes in Chapter 3

    BSQ Chapter 3 The French Exchange - part 1
    BSQ Chapter 3 The French Exchange - part 2
    BSQ Chapter 3 The French Exchange - part 3


    Boarding School Queen chapter 3 – The French Exchange Part 4


    For Mhairi at least, the afternoon ski tour proved an unmitigated disaster. Although the young Scot had learned the basics of the sport in her home country, it soon became apparent that her blonde French chaperone was way out of her league: being trained to professional standards, Sophie St Cyr could literally ski rings round Mhairi. In fact, the athletic French girl was soon bragging about captaining the champion Rochebrune ski team that had beat the field, winning gold medals at the last two international events they had entered.

    What the feisty brunette found most irksome that afternoon however, was the way Sophie always managed to use the edges of her skis to spray snow over her rival whenever she sped back to enquire why Mhairi was lagging behind.
    Emmène-moi! Follow me, ma cherie, and I’ll show you how to ski properly,” the blonde would laugh before catapulting off at breakneck speed again, knowing full well that the Scot would always struggle to keep up.

    Happily, Mhairi had laid one of Sophie’s earlier boasts to rest at least. Having examined one of the other girl’s bras while trying on the borrowed ski wear she found reassuring proof that the French girl had exaggerated how well-endowed she was compared to her rival: okay, at a 36D she might be a single cup size larger than Mhairi; but that was hardly going to save her once the vengeful Scot was pounding the French tart’s pussy into submission later that evening.

    In the meantime, Helen fortified herself with the thought that the French bitch’s shrivelled clit couldn’t conceivably be one size larger than her own little beauty, as the returning Sophie swept to a halt and sprayed her with snow yet again.
    “Oh la la – sorry Mary,” the bitch sniggered. “But please try to keep up as we have to meet the others at the chalet - before it gets too dark!”
    Mhairi gritted her teeth as she pushed off with her ski poles again. Just wait until tonight slut - I’ll wipe that stupid grin off your pretty little face!


    ------



    In contrast with the torrid time Mhairi was having Amelia found she enjoyed her leisurely ski with Zo? immensely, and the two women chatted freely while stopping frequently to admire the view.

    After Mhairi had revealed something of her upbringing in the Southwest of England, the Frenchwoman recounted how she had been born and raised on the island of Martinique in the French West Indies. After finishing high school she had left the island to study classics in Paris then, having completed her diploma, secured her current teaching position at Rochebrune.

    Warming to her tale, the Frenchwoman went on to outline more of her intriguing background to Amelia. Having researched her family tree extensively Zo? Martin had discovered that her ancestry derived from the Fon people, denizens of the African region which is now Benin. At some point her forbears had been taken as slaves to the French colony of Saint-Domingue in the Caribbean Sea, later renamed the Republic of Haiti. Zo?’s lineage was complicated by the amount of intermarriage that had taken place on the island over the generations but she was able to count French European and Amerindian (Carib people) in addition to black Africans among her ancestors.

    What Zo? failed to mention to Amelia was that her maternal grandmother was high priestess of a little-known Voodoo cult that still believes a select few chosen women or mambo asogwe can aspire to gain supernatural powers through the act of ‘taking’ other women’s orgasms from them. The tempestuous, strong-willed Martiniquan was initiated into the cult in her late teens, and since then one of her main life missions had been to seek out other strong women in order to ream submissive orgasms from them. In Zo?’s reckoning, the tougher the opponent the better: as this simply heightened the supreme feeling of sexual dominion she derived from sucking the defeated woman’s struggling pussy lips into her superbly conditioned fighting quim.

    By her reckoning, Zo? still needed to notch up two hundred and forty nine additional victories before acquiring the enlightened transcendental state she so desperately craved. Defeating Amelia tonight would bring her ultimate goal one step closer but, being honest with herself, she also wanted to defeat the redheaded Englishwoman out of a highly developed sense of college honour as well as national pride.

    Amelia’s thoughts were also turning to the inevitable contests that both pairs of sexy women would be drawn into later. Like the Martiniquan, she had been careful not to betray any indication during the conversation of her own secretive involvement in an esoteric witchcraft cult dedicated to exploring and harnessing the power of the female orgasm for its own obscure ends. As a result, neither woman anticipated the broader occult significance of the tumultuous clash that they both looked forward eagerly to winning later that evening.

    “I’d say your Mademoiselle St Cyr needs to watch out,” Amelia confided to her companion archly just before they turned to head back down the mountain towards the waiting chalet.

    Zo? looked at her sharply. “What do you mean by that?”

    “Well, it really doesn’t pay to rile Mhairi MacGregor: a young woman of many talents. Endowed with one of the strongest fighting pussies I’ve ever … er, come across…”

    “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much: Sophie can take also care of herself. But why talk of a sex-fight all of a sudden? Here at Rochebrune the girls always use their breasts to settle rivalries. So, unless your Miss MacGregor has a black belt in the sport, I’ll wager she won’t last long against Sophie St Cyr; she is not only hockey and ski captain but also our best reigning titfight champion!”

    Amelia was forced to conceal her surprise at this unexpected and unwelcome development. It seemed to confirm her suspicion that the French team would stop at nothing to play the home team advantage. And Zo? certainly seemed supremely confident that her own student, with the added benefit of first choice of weapons, would easily defeat Amelia’s favourite student.

    “Well,” she said finally, “I still think Mhairi will give your favourite a goo run for her money.”

    “We’ll have to see, won’t we?” The Frenchwoman replied diplomatically.

    "And what about you? Amelia inquired archly, “do you always use your tits to settle battles as well?”

    “Well, honestly, tits or pussy it’s all the same to me.” Zo? puffed her chest out further and looked her companion directly in the eye before adding: “But I’m warning you already, Amelia, that tonight I’ll win… I always win against redheads and blondes.”

    Such brazen confidence, Amelia thought as she replied. “Ha! Then it looks like your unbeaten record against redheads will soon be over. Enjoy it while it lasts!”


    --------



    After this exchange, the two older women skied down to the chalet where they were soon joined by both students. Zo? Martin had explained earlier in the day that they would be relaxing in the college’s private chalet in the mountains before skiing down early next morning to prepare for the official ceremony to mark the twinning of Cardugan Academy with the Ecole Internationale de Rochebrune.

    The significance of the isolated location was not lost on Amelia who knew that, once they had closed themselves in for the night, the four would be alone, there being no other habitation for miles around. In other words, there was no likelihood of the four women being disturbed whatever happened between them that evening.

    Amelia and Mhairi soon discovered the small chalet was plain but attractive, comprising a large open plan kitchen/living room and two galleried bedrooms. The Cardugan pair would sleep in one room and Rochebrune in the other. This might change during the night but that was the current plan.

    While they were changing for dinner, Amelia quickly interrogated Mhairi to find out what she had been able to glean about her opponent. The younger woman immediately rolled her eyes. “My God, she’s an utter bitch, and a cow and more besides! You know, daddy’s some big financieur type; made his money on the Paris bourse and little miss tippy-toes was brought up in this big fucking chateau, right on the Loire. Great river for skinny dipping apparently!”

    “Interesting, well now it’s the bad news I’m afraid. It seems that Rochebrune’s little madams put more faith in swinging their mammaries when it comes to the settling of rivalries.”

    “What – you mean they..? Oh fuck, fuck!”

    “Correct, and as it’s their home turf, I don’t think we’ll be able to wriggle out of this one so easily. You did train in breast fighting before arriving at Cardugan I believe?”

    “Yes – a little. And I can look after myself. Have you any idea yet what I’m going up against?”

    Amelia hesitated for an instant before deciding to tell the bald truth. “Well, Mlle Martin did let slip that Sophie St Cyr is their reigning titfight champion.”

    “Oh, that’s just bloody marvellous!”



    --------




    Zo? and Sophie had prepared a simple but tasty meal for the four of them, which they washed down with a glass of burgundy before moving the sofas back to make a larger space on the deep pile rug in front of the roaring wood burner. The well-insulated chalet was already growing quite warm and Amelia was sure that it would become even hotter and steamier pretty soon.

    It was agreed that Mhairi and Sophie would fight first, the Cardugan girl having graciously agreed to adhere to Rochebrune rules tonight, which Zo? then explained.

    Basically, the only targets that the girls were allowed to go for were each other’s breasts, and only breast on breast contact was allowed at that. No biting, gouging, hairpulling or other such unsporting play was allowed, however it was perfectly acceptable to grasp your opponent’s body with your hands while delivering the attack.

    The rules also catered for un serre-fort, literally a tight squeeze, whereby both parties were permitted to grind their mammaries together continuously until one girl submitted.

    Un serre-fort par terre was an even more specialist move, involving one girl flinging the other to the ground and pinning her there while crushing her mammaries until either she escaped or was forced to submit.

    “Let’s get on with it then,” Mhairi said purposefully as soon as the explanation ended

    “Yes, I can’t wait to crush your weak teets either,” Sophie laughed, getting to her feet and standing at one end of the rug that marked the dimensions of the ring they would fight in. The Scot quickly took up her position on the other side and the girls started removing the bath robes they had been wearing in preparation for the match.

    Owing to a little theatrical delay on Sophie’s part, Mhairi was first to reveal her naked body and the French pair admired the brunette’s fine physique, the swell of her breasts, the flat stomach with its defined abdominal muscles, the sweeping curve of her hips and her firm, shapely thighs.

    Then Sophie discarded her robe, displaying her near perfect body alongside her rival’s. Amelia noted that the French beauty was perhaps a centimetre shorter, but equally as slender and shapely as Mhairi.

    Only one physical factor set the two girls apart. While the Scot’s girl’s perfectly proportioned breasts were rounded and stood out pertly, Sophie’s were more elongated than Mhairi’s so that they both protruded and drooped slightly more than the Scot’s pair.

    To Amelia’s critical eye, Sophie’s big tits looked slightly oversized given her otherwise svelte proportions. Moreover, in shape they kind of resembled short, deadly torpedoes, and the redhead hoped that their rather intriguing shape would not give the French girl an unfair advantage in her efforts to breach her opponent’s more conventionally rounded ramparts.

    “Are you both ready?” At Zo?’s the signal, Mhairi and Sophie advanced on the rug until they were no more than an arm’s length apart, their large breasts swaying slightly as they moved.

    As she was unsure about the protocol, Mhairi waited until Sophie moved in and grasped her lightly but firmly by the shoulders, the twinkle in the French girl’s eyes suggested this was still all a game to her.

    “Perhaps as the guest you would like to take the first swing, no?”

    “About time!” Mhairi needed no second invitation, grasping Sophie’s shoulders as she turned her torso sideways, twisting back suddenly so that her large breasts swung into the sides of the French girl’s with a loud, stinging slap.

    Watching intently, Amelia noticed how the blonde merely grimaced, letting out a small ‘ouf’ as her breasts swayed at the first contact. The Scot then used the momentum she had created, raking her tits back across the French girl’s immediately with an even louder smack.

    “Ooooff!” “Nnnnnhh!” Both girls cried out but as Mhairi paused, her turn over, Amelia saw how quickly Sophie recovered, looking relaxed and content after Mhairi’s first ‘best’ shots.

    “My turn?” Without waiting for a reply the French girl pivoted slightly at the waist before swiping her torpedo-shaped breasts across Mhairi’s with astonishing speed and accuracy. 'WHAPSLAPP!'

    The smack of colliding titflesh sounded even louder than during Mhairi’s attack, and the girl’s cries of pain were correspondingly shrill as well. Then Sophie swung back the other way and both girls yelped out as their sensitive nerve endings registered the heavy blow.
    After only four side slaps both girls breasts were already starting to look flushed as Sophie spoke again.

    “Phew, that was hard work - well done! Now, we don’t take turns any more so you’re free to start hitting me when you like.”

    Mhairi swung out immediately without really aiming but, as she tried to throw the tit fighting equivalent of a left hook, Amelia could see the brunette had telegraphed the move to her opponent, who swung both breasts at her from the opposite direction in a smart counterpunching move.
    As both girls’ tits were moving at speed this created the loudest smack yet, and caused them both to recoil in pain.

    To their credit, neither girl seemed too phased by this as they quickly settled into a rhythm, slapping their reddening tits against each other....side to side and up and down… grunting and moaning each time their dense tit flesh met head on.

    Although Mhairi seemed to be holding her own in trading blows for now, Amelia was quick to note two significant causes for concern.
    Firstly, and owing to their superior mass perhaps, the French girl’s breasts seemed able to displace the Scots girl’s more easily when both racks met at full force. Secondly, not only were Sophie’s attacks more skilled and precise than her rival's, but the French girl seemed to be hitting with more force if the loudness of each heavy smack was anything to go by.

    At least hitting Mhairi this hard would mean that the sensitive nerve endings in Sophie’s larger breasts must be taking an equal amount of punishment Amelia tried to reassure herself.

    As the seconds ticked by, the French girl’s greater skill, as well as her other built-in advantages became more apparent however, prompting Zo?, who had seemed bored and disinterested with the proceedings up to now, to suddenly become passionate as she urged her charge to take the fight aggressively to her rival.

    Oui – oui! C’est ca! En avant ma fille!

    Amelia was forced to watch with growing concern as Sophie rallied, spurred on by her professeur’s loud encouragement, and started pressing home her attack on Mhairi’s increasingly beleaguered tits with venom.

    “Steady Mhairi, keep your guard up!”

    Soon though Sophie’s tits achieved the first major breakthrough of the contest as a lethal combination of attacking moves had her rival on the run.
    As the blonde girl’s blistering attack gathered pace, Amelia found herself involuntarily cataloguing each of the punishing blows being delivered to her girl's breasts by its equivalent boxing term:

    Right jab 'Whack!' “Owww!!”
    Left hook ‘Smack!' “Unnnnnnnnnn.”
    Right hook 'Whop!' “Ohhhhhhhhh.”
    Uppercut 'Whap!' “Owww!! Fucking CUNT!”
    Left hook 'Slap!' “Bitch!”
    Uppercut 'Thwack!' “Ahhhhhhhhh...”
    Uppercut ‘Smack!' “Unnnnnnnnnn…ohhhhh Jesus....”


    If Amelia had been a boxing coach she might have been contemplating when to throw in the towel by now, as her own girl was becoming too punch drunk to defend herself properly; her head lolling forward as the pain receptors in her wounded breasts tripped the overloaded synapses in her brain.

    Amelia was forced to wonder at Sophie’s immense staying power and astonishingly high pain threshold: there was little doubt she must also be feeling intense pain each time her own breasts connected with Mhairi’s; and yet, even as she cried out and blinked back the tears, the titfighting champion kept coming forward like a dogged pugilist…until finally she had the Scot exactly where she wanted her. As she delivered her final ultimatum, Amelia noted that Mlle St Cyr’s voice had grown far deeper and huskier, constant pain having removed its playful timbre as she hissed viciously at her opponent: “Ahhhhhhh… now is a good time to give up… Scottish slut… before I injure you too badly!”

    Mhairi coughed, wheezed and spat over her opponent’s right shoulder before replying.

    “Unnnnnnn… surrender? Uh uh…I thought this was just the warm-up. If that’s really the best you can offer we better keep going ...”

    With an angry cry, the French girl lunged forward and continued her brutal, full frontal assault, her heavy, elonated breasts slamming into the Scot’s outgunned mammaries without mercy.

    SMACK!!! WHACK!!! SLAPPPP!!! SMACK!!!

    “Unnnnnnnnnnn... Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh BITCH!! Ohhhhhhhhhhh Fuck!”

    Finally, Mhairi found herself teetering on the very edge of their makeshift ring, and resorted to the only option she had left ; flinging herself at the French girl in a desperate clinch.

    As the wounded brunette clung tightly to her tormentor the intense sounds of battle were replaced by both girls wheezing and sniffling as they leaned into one other, weary heads resting on each other’s shoulders, their lined faces exhibiting raw pain, exhaustion and wounded emotion.

    Amelia was suddenly feeling an enormous pride in Mhairi however. So far, her girl had taken all that her more experienced French opponent had thrown at her and survived the ordeal. Mhairi MacGregor was still in the fight, but her chances of turning it around seemed slim at best given the odds now stacked against her...the next few minutes of the struggle would be crucial and Amelia was on tenterhooks, especially knowing that she would have to fight Zo? Martin as soon as the first contest had been decided.



    End of part 4
    Last edited by Ragnar0k; April 12th, 2017 at 08:49 AM.

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