BSQ Chronicles Book 1 - The New Girl - Parts V to VII

[Ragnar0k]

Boarding School Queen Chronicles Book 1 - The New Girl - Parts V to VII


Authors note: Boarding School Queen Chronicles details the lives, loves and rivalries of a group of strong-willed alpha females. Young women who are willing to use all their sexual powers and wiles to decide who will wear the Boarding School Queen’s highly coveted crown.

The story was originally serialized on Hostboard's now defunct Titfighting and Sexfighting Forum. For this version, I have combined several of the original posts to present each chapter in fewer threads. I have also corrected some errors of grammar and punctuation. Otherwise, the story is the same as the original which was written and posted between 2016 and 2019.

Please note this story is sexually explicit from the start.
All characters represented are 18 years of age or older.

V

Although nearly a week had elapsed since Helen Brodie and Mhairi MacGregor’s electrifying confrontation in the showers, the leading lights of the Cardugan Academy Tourney Society (CATS for short) had not been idle.
As head of the student council, Janice Mearns chaired the steering committee of the secretive and somewhat quaintly named sixth form society that held monopoly rights to organise sex fights at Cardugan. Fortunately, three out of six committee members had witnessed Helen Brodie grabbing hold of Mhairi MacGregor’s bush, a brazen enough act to trigger an automatic title match according to CATS rules. Janice had subsequently briefed the full committee, and an early date for the crucial contest between Cardugan’s reigning sex fight queen and the new girl challenger was agreed unanimously. After the meeting Janice went looking for the new girl to explain the rules and to discuss all the necessary arrangements.

Mhairi was walking in the school grounds deep in thought when she noticed Janice Mearns striding purposefully towards her across the freshly mown lawn. After her satisfying first encounter with Helen Brodie in the showers, the new girl had waited patiently all week for CATS to contact her. Mhairi knew that a proper sex-fight to decide the two girls' differences was the only possible outcome now, and she had already had to put up with a degree of hostility from several of the other girls who were either Helen's close friends, or else wanted to have a crack at the title themselves and were bitching that the new girl had so effortlessly jumped the queue in front of them.

When Mhairi had returned to the changing room that day and started dressing she discovered that some clever bitch had swapped her panties with Helen’s for a laugh. However, rather than causing a scene in front of Miss Dent, Mhairi had simply smiled and slipped Helen’s panties on, finding that they fitted her perfectly. She didn’t see Helen getting changed but assumed that her rival must have done the same and ended up wearing Mhairi’s panties around school for the rest of the day.

As Mhairi finally got back to her room later that day, she was in such a state of sexual arousal that she had to undress and lie down on the bed immediately with the twice-soiled panties draped over her face. Inhaling her own odour mingled with the scent of the girl whose sex-fight crown she intended to steal, Mhairi’s mind rushed feverishly back to the moment when her fingers had parted Helen’s thick black bush to explore her rival’s big, juicy cunt for the first time; tracing the thick, rubbery cunt lips before inserting themselves inside her warm wetness, feeling the big, erect clit pushing back aggressively against her finger. Jesus, conquering that girl’s strong cunt with mine will bring such indescribable pleasure Mhairi told herself as she masturbated long and hard, surrendering finally to one of the most intense and pleasurable orgasms she had experienced in a long, long while.

Janice began explaining the CATS rules governing approved sex-fights at Cardugan to Mhairi as they continued on a circular route through the school’s outer grounds.

“Although the Sexfight Code states that both contestants must start off sitting on the mat in the ‘classic scissor position’, once their - ahem - vaginas have made contact, girls are then free to try and force their opponents into different positions in order to… erm, gain the advantage so to speak.”

“Ah, that’s interesting,” Mhairi interjected, “I was going to ask about how a submission is scored at Cardugan.”

“Well, for an orgasm to count as a submission, a majority of the three scoring judges have to agree that one girl’s vagina is fully in control. Now, this is usually beyond doubt if one girl has successfully pinned the other in what we call the top grind position.”

“Mmmm… definitely my favourite position,”.

“Quite, and it’s certainly a position in which it’s much better to give than to receive - if you intend to win that is!”

Janice had been looking straight ahead as they walked but she glanced sideways now to gauge the new girl’s reaction to her next question.

“So, did they go in for sex-fighting a lot at your last school?”

“Oh yes,” Mhairi grinned sardonically, “It was practically all we had available to amuse ourselves on those long, dark winter nights…”

“And you, yourself …. did well in those contests?”

“Aye – you could certainly say, more often-than-not, I was the lucky girl who ended up in top grind position.”

Janice thought the new girl was being a wee bit coy here, as if she didn’t want to give much away. She was minded to try and contact someone at her previous school to find out more. She kept her suspicions to herself and continued. “Now, when two contestants are evenly matched, we often find that neither will be in control for much of the match, due to them either fighting on their backs or sometimes while sitting in an upright clinch. In this case when either (or both) of them starts to orgasm, the winner is judged to be the first girl to force the other into the control position – and pin her there for a count of ten."

“That’s an interesting rule, but hopefully one I’ll not need to rely on against the likes of Helen Brodie.”

At this, Janice stopped and turned, appraising the new girl as if in a new light for a moment. “Oh, I wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating our Helen - she’s a fighter alright. I’ve seen how she took apart the other girls in her last seven contests.”

“Alright, go on then.”

“Now, and this is the last important bit, the underneath girl, who otherwise has yielded control, has occasionally been known to force the girl on top to orgasm first. As you might expect, this can’t count as a submission. However, on rare occasions, the judges will still rule in her favour if she manages to get on top of her opponent quick enough and pin her pussy down for a count of ten. That’s about it – any questions?”

“Yes, I do have one or two actually.”

“Fire away."

“Okay, I’d like to understand better how the rules deal with manual stimulation?”

“Ah yes, I forgot about that. As I explained already, the CATS rules were devised many years ago to help settle all disputes among Cardugan girls through trial by sexual combat. I won’t dwell on the parallels in the animal kingdom but when two rutting stags lock horns it’s usually the bigger and stronger who wins the alpha status. So too, in feminine combat, we hail the girl with the stronger vagina as the natural victor, the alpha female if you like. And the loser, by submitting sexually to her vanquisher, accepts her future role as the subordinate female - unless and until she manages to stage a successful challenge in the future. In this way everyone learns their place and the natural order of girls here at school is established, until..."

"Until?"

"Until an outsider – such as yourself - comes along to upset the natural order. Now you will agree that because of the desired outcome of what is effectively trial by vaginal combat, manual stimulation to orgasm cannot ever count as a full surrender. There is a big 'but', however, in that wanking your opponent’s pussy is not exactly deemed verboten, and some girls do in fact employ it as a technique for weakening an especially stubborn opponent before going in for the kill.”

“Thanks, that’s very interesting,” mused Mhairi.

“Indeed. And your second question?”

“Yes – about Susan Walkerburn, the girl I just got transferred in with. Isn’t she supposed to be a close friend of Helen’s?”

Thanks to the high fees paid by their parents Cardugan girls were privileged enough to be accommodated in twin study bedrooms rather than the dorms that most other colleges offered. It had long been thought that it was much better for the girls’ social development if they shared rooms with a peer, and it was accordingly rare for a girl to be assigned a room by herself.

As a new girl, Mhairi had been allocated a temporary single until a place in a double room became available. Then, just two days after the shower incident, Mhairi had been informed that she would be moving in with Susan Walkerburn, a tall, attractive blonde who she had seen hanging around with Helen Brodie, thick as thieves.

Janice gave a strange little laugh as she pondered how to answer the new girl's question.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about Susan. It’s not like you’ll be discussing your battle plans with her, I’d imagine!”

Not discussing her battle plans perhaps, Mhairi thought bitterly, but the blonde bitch was in an excellent position to spy on her for the enemy camp as her preparations for next week’s contest reached a critical stage.

VI

With just three days to go before the fight with Mhairi MacGregor and her title still on the line, Helen was anxious to find out what Susan Walkerburn had gleaned from sharing a room with the new girl.

Unfortunately, it had been hard to pin Susan down of late but Helen finally managed to grab her friend as they were leaving choir practice together. Taking her friend by the arm, Helen propelled her into the nearby toilets, the girls occupying adjacent cubicles in the time-honoured fashion so they could chat uninhibitedly, while listening out for anyone else entering.

“So, what’s it been like living with the MacGregor bitch?”

“Helen! Omigod! She sure is taking your fight seriously!”

“What do you mean? How do you know?”

“Well, get this. The very first night she must have desperate for me to nod off because soon after lights out, when I pretended to be asleep, she started doing something under the covers.”

“Doing what under the covers?”

“Well, from the wet sounds I kept hearing, she must have been wanking like it was going out of fashion. I swear it must have gone on for over an hour - no joke!”

“An hour.” To Helen it sounded like her opponent was working on building up her vaginal stamina and tolerance to orgasm before the fight. Just as well, then, that Helen had been putting in some serious training herself, night and day.

“So, what happened after that?”

“Shit! By then I was getting so turned on just lying there listening to the juicy sounds that I had to start attending to my own needs.”

“What?! You were lying in bed wanking together with Mhairi MacGregor?!”

“Well not together exactly, but what would you have done? In the bed next to me, it’s like suck-suck-squelch, suck-suck-squelch at full blast. So, I’m gently rubbing my quim to avoid making too much noise. When I heard her gasping as she came, I had to turn on my front and bite the pillow to stop making too much noise myself!”

“So, we can deduce that the new girl’s taking her fight training very seriously. Any sign of her doing other exercises?”

"Well, if she is then she’s keeping it very private. But there was one thing...”

“What?”

“The other morning I accidentally knocked over the bin and found a pretty big zucchini which had been left under a pile of tissues. Of course, I examined the vegetable more closely and it was a bit slimy. Yuk! Then I noticed that it had regular rings around it that had severely bruised and indented the skin.”

“Hah! That’s an old trick I often use myself”, Helen laughed. “Mind you, a big enough cucumber can do the job just as well.”

“The only other thing I can report is that I’m convinced she’s stopped washing herself because at night the room’s starting to smell of pussy – and it’s definitely not mine ‘cos I know how mine smells!”

Helen nodded without replying. Just like Helen, Mhairi also seemed to understand that nice girls who washed, shaved, and coiffured their perfumed cunts rarely performed well in sexual combat against rough girls who ignored such feminine niceties.

Allowing for the relative strength and experience of the protagonists, cunt fights were won more often than not by the first girl to establish a clear psychological advantage over her opponent. Having experienced at first hand the edge an unwashed vagina laden with powerful female pheromones gave her over many an opponent, it had been Helen’s iron rule to impose a washing ban on herself in the days immediately prior to a contest.

She was also aware of another practical side to this strategy: having been taught by an older mentor that allowing her natural oils to exude freely actually protected her vagina by providing a lubricating defensive barrier, which was especially effective combined with the protection offered by her thick, well-oiled pubes.

It was time to leave so Helen got up flushed the toilet thanking Susan for the valuable intel on her rival.

“Three days to go until I fight her! You will come and tell me if anything else significant happens?”

“Of course! We can’t let a brand new girl - from an east coast school of all places - simply waltz in and upset the natural order of things at Cardugan!”

On her way back to her room Helen stopped by the kitchens and after checking that no one was looking made off with a large, fresh zucchini.


---------

Susan turned her reading light out early that evening after informing Mhairi MacGregor that she had a slight migraine. The new girl carried on reading for a bit then turned her own light out and the darkened room soon became silent apart from the sound of the autumn wind rattling the windows.

After ten minutes or so, Susan modulated her breathing to give the impression of falling asleep and fairly soon she could hear Mhairi’s bed creaking again as it had the previous night. This time new girl seemed to have thrown away any semblance of caution, throwing her quilt off and lying naked beneath her top sheet while making an intriguing repertoire of lascivious wet sounds with her pussy in the dark.

Susan had begun gently stroking her blonde bush as she lay listening then, feeling the wetness welling up inside of her, had quickly moved on to fingering herself with growing urgency as Mhairi’s masturbatory tempo increased. Before long, Susan was struggling to control her breathing as she continued deep fingering her vagina which was becoming well lathered with the blonde’s salty-sweet pre-cum juices.

So focused was she by now on reaching her own climax that Helen’s spy-in-the-camp had become oblivious to what the new girl was getting up to in the bed a few feet away. Oblivious that is, until her bed covers were ripped off and she stared up in wide-eyed surprise at Mhairi MacGregor, looming over her in the semi-darkness, naked and menacing.

“Looks like you’re doing well for self-service, sweetie,” taunted the new girl, “but it’s gonna be far better if we pool our resources from here on in!”

“Wha..at? No! I… ahh!”

The blonde's blurted protest was cut short as Mhairi leapt on to the bed, using a sharp knee to prise Susan’s thighs apart as she mounted the surprised girl in a sexual frenzy. Both girls gasped and moaned as their sensitive, swollen cunts united in full fleshy contact, Mhairi having parted their pubes with her fingers just before impact to allow both girls full, uninhibited access to each other's sex.

On a good day Susan Walkerburn was a strong and accomplished sex-fighter but, having been taken on her back while already close to orgasm, she didn’t really stand a chance against her roommate's surprise assault. After some tense minutes of cunt-to-cunt struggle, with their thick, engorged labia rolling and rubbing and sucking together loudly, Mhairi gradually took control, grinding down brutally enough on the blonde to secure her in a dominating cunt lock.

Both girls knew Mhairi's victory was assured when she managed to hoist Susan’s leg high on her shoulder, forcing the blonde’s vagina wide open to facilitate the brunette's final deep, penetrative clitoral attack.

With the dominant girl’s strong sexual scent hanging over her, Susan was quickly overwhelmed and soon felt her pussy begin to clinch and contract hard.

“Oh fuck! Nooooo! Ahhhh!”

Mhairi drove her clit in hard as the other girl arched her back and started to orgasm, feeling the delicious warm wetness as the blonde’s ejaculate spurted deep inside her vagina before running down both girl’s interlocked thighs.

“Owww! Ahhhh! Uuuggh! Nnnnggh!”

Susan quivered and squirmed beneath Mhairi for a good ten seconds or longer before finally relaxing submissively, her powerful orgasm spent, along with any thoughts of putting up further resistance to the dominant alpha female who had just taken her apart sexually. It had been Mhairi's plan all along to force Helen’s spy to yield to her, and now she was able to turn the victory to her advantage by cross-examining the blonde about Helen’s likely movements the next day.

It turned out that the catfight queen went for daily runs in the early morning while preparing for a fight; and the route always took her across country, through nearby Masons Woods, before ending up at 'the Eerie', an abandoned Victorian tower situated on a hill four miles beyond the school grounds.

Pondering her next move, Mhairi turned the light on briefly and selected a powder blue running top and shorts from her clothes drawer. These she left folded on the bedside chair, before settling down diligently to finish her nightly pre-fight training regime.

A few feet away, Susan Walkerburn was still wondering what, if anything, she ought to tell her good friend Helen about the evening’s most unexpected turn of events. Closing her eyes, the blonde turned on her side and gradually fell into a blissful sleep, her body still bathed in its warm, post-orgasmic afterglow.

VII

Even though she hadn’t slept particularly well, Helen Brodie woke with the dawn chorus as usual and lay snuggled under the duvet for a few minutes, listening to the wind rattling the windowpanes. The root cause of her interrupted sleep had been Mhairi MacGregor, of course. It had just been one vexatious event after another since the new girl had arrived at Cardugan.

The outcome of the hockey match would have been a relatively minor irritation if the new girl had not made such a big display in the shower room afterwards; although Helen needn't have put her title on the line in hindsight, she felt honour bound to reassert her authority and had gone for the nuclear option in the heat of the moment. That's what happens when you let some bitch rile yourself too easily, she told herself angrily.

With Helen’s enviable win/loss record this would still have been a low-risk option under normal circumstances. However, even she was now beginning to have some doubts. Thanks to Janice Mearns, a rumour was now circulating that Mhairi McGregor was, in fact, sex-fight queen at her last school, and a notable top-grind specialist, who might actually succeed in taking Helen’s crown.

To add insult to injury, Helen had learned that some of the girls were running a book on the outcome of the fight and the odds on her victory, steadily deteriorating, were now only slightly better than even. God, life had been so simple before that bitch arrived on the scene!

Helen pushed her covers aside and stood by the bed, performing some stretching exercises, her naked body lithe and glowing in the early morning light. Padding across to the window she absently slid her hand down and fondled her bush, stroking her fingertips through the long, straggly hair that protected her vulva. Her thick labial lips felt oily and firm, reminding her for a brief moment of something dangerously primeval and reptilian.

Withdrawing her hand, she held the fingers up to her nose: the musk was rich and powerful; its signature unmistakably hers and hers alone. Last night, Helen had spent over an hour on vaginal strengthening exercises and now she felt wonderfully toned and ready for her invigorating morning run.

Although the autumn sky looked leaden, and a storm was clearly brewing, if she kept up a good pace, she should still be able to complete the 8-mile circuit and be back in time for breakfast before the heavens opened.

Looking out her favourite apple green running kit, Helen noticed Mhairi’s panties still scrunched up in the drawer beside her own. She had acquired them after the shower room confrontation thanks to some smart bitch who thought it would be fun to swap them.

Helen picked the panties up and sniffed the crotch, inhaling the new girl’s scent which, although it had begun fading, was still there, unmistakably distinct from her own. On an impulse Helen pulled the panties on, rubbing the gusset into her crotch until her own scent completely overpowered that of her rival’s. That feels good - really good - she told herself and decided to keep the panties on for the rest of the day.

Once Helen got out on the wooded trail the weather began to deteriorate faster than she had anticipated, the wind rattling the branches overhead and whipping up the thick carpet of autumn leaves that crunched under her feet.

Undeterred, the raven-haired girl leapt over a fallen branch and carried on: she needed to be in top aerobic condition for the fight that was now only two days away.

Her thoughts turned to the English literature lesson the day before, when Miss Turner had turned the last half hour into a debate on the virtues of Sapphic love, something that seemed decidedly risky in a residential boarding school packed full of hormonal teenage girls. Many of the girls suspected that Miss Turner was a lesbian -or at least bisexual - and they often vied in their efforts to impress the voluptuous, redheaded teacher who was in still her mid-twenties and rated hot and desirable.

Not surprisingly, Mhairi MacGregor had taken a different position to Helen in the debate, and the two rivals had found themselves arguing against each other until the other girls in the class had fallen silent, watching open-mouthed as the two alpha females sparred verbally with increasing venom and animosity. Miss Turner seemed happy to let the exchange go on for some time, only cutting it short after the new girl finally made an especially bitchy remark about Helen clearly being too frigid to understand what Sapphic love was really about.

Taking a left fork in the trail, Helen was only vaguely aware out of the corner of her eye of a flash of blue moving through the trees, and dismissed it as the product of her overwrought imagination. She was still furious that the teacher not only failed to discipline the new girl but had dismissed the class afterwards with a knowing smile on her face - as if she had been amused, and possibly even turned on, by the whole episode.

The fork in the trail meant that Helen was more than halfway to the tower, a Victorian folly built on a small hill by a former estate owner. Helen always liked to sprint up to the top and admire the view while getting her breath back before heading for home. Today, however, she would just aim to get home before the storm broke.

The second time Helen noticed a shape moving through the woods behind and to her left she knew it was not a figment of her imagination. Easing up slightly and squinting through trees backlit by the morning sun, Helen was dumbfounded to make out the unmistakable form of Mhairi Macgregor, in a tight-fitting powder blue sports kit, loping effortlessly along the track that ran parallel.


Mhairi had also woken early that morning and left the room quickly, her latest conquest Susan Walkerburn still fast asleep in bed. The new girl had jogged into the woods and taken up a hidden position in the trees waiting for her rival to come into view along the woodland track.

Sure enough here came the bitch, right on time as Susan had promised. Despite herself Mhairi had to admit that Helen looked stunning, with her healthy, rosy complexion; skimpy green top showing off her full, firm breasts; long black mane streaming behind as her long legs propelled her effortlessly along the track.

The new girl waited for her rival to pass then started following along a parallel track, keeping just behind and to the left of her quarry. Her plan this morning was to up the ante with Helen further: to gain such a psychological edge over her rival that Mhairi would enjoy the advantage when the girls finally locked cunts in anger.

When Helen realised that she was being trailed she put on a burst of speed, knowing that she would confront her rival where the parallel paths converged below ‘the Eerie’. The new girl also accelerated, matching her rival stride for stride until they arrived at the junction of the two paths simultaneously, hot, sweaty and breathless.

Breathing deeply as she recovered, Helen was angry but also curious as she turned to study her surprise running companion. Mhairi MacGregor’s pretty face was a bit flushed from sprinting to keep pace with Helen but otherwise she looked disgustingly invigorated and fighting fit. The new girl’s top had a big sweat stain running down between her breasts, her erect nipples clearly visible through the pale blue material which had a see-though quality when damp. Just like herself, Mhairi clearly enjoyed running au natural, without a constraining bra. Helen shivered suddenly, and it was not due to feeling cold.

“S-so wh-why exactly are you following me?”

Mhairi was also getting her breath back and gasped out her initial reply: “W-ell,” “I ww-ouldn’t have thought it was that hard to guess…”

“No really, I have no idea. Enlighten me.”

Mhairi’s calculating eyes had been devouring her rival’s nubile body at the same time: the healthy luminous sheen of her alabaster skin; the full, upright breasts capped by large nipples that poked through the wetness of her skimpy running top; the shapely, toned legs that had carried her so effortlessly along the four-mile trail. Now a coquettish mischief entered her expression as she stared directly into Helen’s eyes, confident that the next part of her plan was just about to fall into place.

“You know what we both want, so why wait until Thursday bitch?” She said this with as much acidity as she could muster. “There’s nothing to stop us settling it here. Right now.”

Helen’s blood was already up, and she would have liked nothing better than to take the bitch down right away, but she was thrown in a quandary by the new girl’s sudden unexpected challenge.

“Are you mad? Thursday’s fight is going to decide who wins the title. Nothing that happens out here in the woods now can change that.”

“So that’s it, I kind of knew you’d be chicken…” Mhairi sneered, turning her back on Helen and making as if to walk away.

“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t….”

Just then the wind howled, and the storm that had been threatened all morning finally broke. As big heavy raindrops started to fall it was apparent that the sky would unleash torrential rain any moment and the girls would be drenched unless they moved fast.

“To the tower!” Helen snapped, and they both started scrambling up the steep hill, determined to be the first to reach the top. Mhairi had started off slightly in front and managed to stay a good second in front of her rival.

As the tower had long been deemed unsafe by the authorities the door was padlocked shut, however the entrance porch was recessed to a depth of three feet and it was in here that Helen propelled her rival just as the wind whipped up again behind them and the rain came lashing down with full force.

Mhairi was caught off balance as Helen pushed her into deeper the porch recess until her back was rammed up against the padlocked door. There, sheltered from the driving rain, the two rivals locked up in a deep, hungry, saliva-swapping kiss while a peal of thunder broke overhead. With their breasts pressing tightly together inside their clammy tops both girls could feel their hearts pounding in unison as they wrestled against the old wooden door.

“Don’t imagine for a second that you can steal my crown on Thursday, cunt!” snarled Helen, pulling her head away briefly.

“Oh, I guarantee this college will finally see a new queen crowned, bitch!” Mhairi riposted angrily.

Then Helen forced her hand down the elasticated front of Mhairi’s running shorts, escalating the conflict by grabbing a handful of her rival’s sweaty bush and shouted at her rival above the noise of the storm.

“You do realise that what happens now won’t change a thing on Thursday?”

“Oh, I think it will change rather a lot, don’t you?” Mhairi countered, grabbing her rival’s crotch in the same way. There was no going back now as both girls tightened their grip, feeling their pubes being pulled at the roots.

“First to make the other one come then?” hissed Helen.

“First to make you come then,” Mhairi laughed sarcastically as they attacked simultaneously, forcing their hungry mouths together with a clash of white teeth, wrestling their muscular tongues until saliva ran down their chins. At the same time the girls pulled each other’s shorts down their thighs to allow their scrabbling fingers better access, releasing a powerful crotch smell in the process.

With her back still pressed painfully against the door Mhairi suddenly went on the offensive, forcing her tongue into Helen's mouth while her fingers probed beneath her opponent’s thick bush, seeking a firmer grip on the meaty vulva it protected.

As her rival’s strong fingers penetrated her labial lips for the first time Helen staggered back slightly, enabling Mhairi to push forward until the girls were back in the centre of the porch. Breaking their kiss they leaned into each other, chins on shoulders, forming a human tripod; as both girls continued to push against each other, they were gradually forced to widen their stance for balance and support, which also had the effect of allowing their fingers easier access to each other’s vulnerable swollen vulvas.

Even the thickest of bushes, the meatiest of cunt lips, cannot hold back the insistent probing of strong fingers for long and soon the wet, sloppy sounds could even be heard over the torrential rain as their conditioned fighting cunts sucked strongly at the fingers that were violating them.

“Unngh! Uhhh! Nnnuh! Nnnah!"

“Ahh! Ahh! Uuuuhhh! Nnnnngh!”

The girls were panting and moaning in unison as they staggered around in the doorway locked now in a primal sexual battle for supremacy. Cunt juice ran freely down their thighs, spattering the autumn leaves their stamping feet were crunching underfoot.

From the way her opponent’s moans were growing more ragged and high-pitched, Mhairi could tell she was reaming Helen Brodie’s cunt good and proper now: sliding her hand between the thick but well-lubricated and now yielding labial lips; driving her fingers all the way in: as deep inside her rival’s vaginal opening as they would go; while at the same time her thumb expertly harried the other girl’s aching, tumescent clit.

Helen had been deep-fingering Mhairi for a good while now and was frankly amazed by her rival’s sexual staying power. She could feel the other girl’s heart pounding wildly against her chest, pumping ever more blood into her engorged cunt as it strained against Helen’s strong fingers; becoming ever more wet and elastic, opening her up still further to sexual penetration, allowing the sex-fight queen to force her hand in deeper and deeper.

Helen also recognised the tell-tale whining pitch creeping into her opponent’s heavy moans and knew that Mhairi was feeling the intensity of struggle just as deeply as she was: that the new girl was fighting to stave off the first stirrings of orgasm that Helen also felt growing deep inside her cunt.

Although it would be a close race to the finishing line, Helen remained convinced that she still had more sexual stamina in reserve than her hated rival.


-----------


Standing at the window of her study on the second floor of the main school building, Amelia Turner was absently twisting her long, flame-red hair into loose braids as she stared out at the forbidding sky overhead.

Frowning into the distance, the new English teacher could just make out the outline of the Victorian tower known as ‘the Eerie’, enveloped in dark, malevolent storm clouds. The storm had already passed over Cardugan and was now unloading torrential rain directly on top of the tower on the hill, punctuated by occasional crashes of thunder and shafts of lightning.

As a secret occultist and adept of a little-known ancient and esoteric witchcraft cult, Amelia was steeped in ancient myths and wondered idly to herself what might have happened to bring the wrath of the old thunder gods down that on that isolated hill right now. She had recently become intrigued about ‘the Eerie’, having learned that the tower was believed to have been built on the site of a much older structure, a megalithic stone circle dating back to ancient Celtic times, perhaps even earlier.

Amelia had been excited to discover, through painstaking research, that such ancient stone circles featured prominently in the rituals of a pre-Christian Celtic society. A society which she already knew was matrifocal and matriarchal in nature, with women playing a dominant role. From reading of her sources, Amelia had long suspected that the old traditions still persisted in far flung parts of Alba, even though ancient Celtic mythology had become subservient to the patriarchal consciousness associated with Christian ideology in most places in what was now modern Scotland. That was one reason why she had applied for the post at the isolated girls boarding school as it would bring her much closer to the source of her investigations.

Stepping back from the window, Amelia sat at her desk and found the key passage in the book she had been studying before the storm had drawn her to the window. Among ancient Celtic peoples, she read, descent was traced through the mother where women “…were highly honoured, female symbolism formed the most sacred images in the religious cosmos, and the relationship with the motherhood was the central element of the social fabric, the society was held together by common allegiance to the customs of the tribe loosely organised around the traditions of goddess” (Condren, 1989).

As the sacredness of Celtic females was not connected to love, but instead to their twin role as goddesses of fertility and war, Amelia had developed a theory that young Celtic women must often have fought with one another sexually to establish, and maintain, the natural female hierarchy of power.

Soon after arriving at Cardugan, Amelia was excited by the rumours of a secret senior girls’ society that seemed to confirm her theory; perhaps in formalising their feminine disputes through the medium of sex-fighting, modern Cardugan girls were simply following a sacred calling that had ancient mythological Celtic antecedents.

Amelia had enjoyed the recent cat spat between Helen Brodie and Mhairi MacGregor in her English literature lesson immensely. She felt sure that the animosity between two of the two finest alpha female specimens she had ever taught was building to crisis proportions and she would dearly love to be present when they finally fought.

Amelia was no mean sex-fighter herself as it transpired, having fought numerous successful duels against other initiate witches both during and after her induction rituals into the cult. After several sexually inactive months, the tall, fiery redhead could feel her clit aching impatiently for new challenges, and it seemed she had just found a couple of exciting ones in her English Literature class.


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Helen Brodie and Mhairi MacGregor were still battling in the doorway beneath the tower at the precise moment that Miss Turner had looked across; by now the new girl had the sex-fight queen trapped against the wall and was driving her sex-slimed fingers rapidly in and out of her gasping foe’s juicy cunt in a desperate attempt to finish her off.

But though it felt to Helen as if her dam could burst at any moment, in truth both girls had reached the end of their tether, and the raven-haired girl could hear Mhairi’s sexual moans increasing in intensity as she forced her strong fingers deeper inside her rival’s wet, yielding vagina.

The blood was pulsing so loudly in the girls’ temples that even the loud crashes of thunder overhead seemed to have faded into the distance. The smell of sex rising from their embattled genitalia was intoxicating, feral and intense; the dank, close air reeking of competing female pheromones and acrid body sweat.

As their final fingering attacks intensified, both girls’ vaginas struggled and strained, emitting a lascivious medley of sucking and smacking sounds. The pre-cum juices that were freely flowing lathered all around their stretched labial lips and either soaked into their thick, matted bushes or dripped down on to the ground. Both exhausted girls sensed that their first trial by combat was rapidly coming to an end as they pressed together ever more closely, open-mouthed, gasping for breath in pre-climax mode. It was time...

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Suddenly Mhairi emitted an intense, surprised gasp that was music to her rival’s ears. Feeling the new girl’s strong vagina muscles start to clench around her splayed fingers, Helen forced her foe backwards, trying to pin her against the opposite wall, but realised by then it was just too late.

“Unnnnnnnnnnnnnn. Oooooooohhh!” Helen moaned as her own vagina started contracting powerfully and she stumbled against her rival like a wounded animal.

“Aaaahhhh! Fuucckkk!”

“Aaaarggghh! Nnnnnahh!”
Caught by the unexpected intensity and ferocity of their shared orgasm both girls’ legs buckled simultaneously. Falling to their knees in the leaf-strewn passageway, Mhairi and Helen threw back their heads and howled as their aching pussies erupted in unison, soaking their fingers with hot girl cum, the strongly scented liquor splashing down their thighs and spraying the ground below.
Time seemed to stand still as the trembling girls clung together helplessly in the throes of a massive orgasm, the synapses of their brains' pleasure centres completely overloaded.

Finally, they both started to come round and, realising where they were, quickly broke their tight embrace and slumped back against opposite walls. Outside, the storm was over and in the sudden quietness the girls could hear each other's panted breaths as well as the sound of raindrops dripping from the roof of the porch.

“Owww! You fucking slut!” Helen said angrily, moving her hand gingerly towards her tender vagina.

“Never expected a draw bitch …. I’ll give you that,” was Mhairi’s icy response as she started examining her swollen pussy gently with her fingers.

“What do you mean, you cheeky cunt? You know full well that you started coming before I did!”

“I don’t think so,” Mhairi shot back. “In any case, it was far too close for any referee to call in a match. No wonder the rules say that the winner of the fall has to be the one 'in control'.”

“Well, there won’t be a problem next time, ‘cos you'll be laid out flat on your back while I’m fucking you into oblivion!”

“I don’t think so.”

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Helen had suddenly glanced at her watch. It was now 7.45 am and if they didn’t leave immediately, they would be late for lessons.

“It’s stopped raining. We need to go back now if we don’t want to miss French.”

“Always the good little girl, aren’t you?” Mhairi sneered, getting to her feet and examining her soiled body and clothes with a practiced eye. She was going to need a good hot shower before she could be seen again in public.

“So what? I do enough to stay on top, that’s all.”

“Not for much longer.”

"Shut up bitch!”

“Slut.”

Mhairi and Helen had separated on the way back through the woods and somehow managed to re-enter college without their ragged appearance drawing too much attention.

In fact, the only person who guessed correctly what might have transpired between them was none other than their English teacher who had watched in fascination as the two dishevelled girls returned across the playing fields. She would have to probe further into this intriguing situation she told herself, perhaps by inventing a pretext to ask them both to stay behind after her next English lesson.

Turning abruptly away from the window, Amelia Turner felt a distinct moistness in her panties as she contemplated the exciting new possibilities open to her at Cardugan. Life suddenly felt very good again, and Amelia knew she would be ready to make another offering to the ancient Celtic sex goddess very soon.



To be continued/