Everybody Loves Gerard Emerton by CountryMouse
#girlbrawl #bp #enf #catfight
…George IV ruled by proxy in place of his father, the Eifel Tower would not grace the skyline of Paris for another sixty years, one of the greatest works of fiction was about to be written by a young woman called Mary…
“… they have an exclusive agreement with Fitzgibbon’s fabric house to only sell this pattern to them.” Emily Stickles said humbly. She held the rapt attention of her audience, a gaggle of girls her age and younger.
“I love the white and blue leaf pattern, such an attractive fabric.” Ms. Brightling chimed in.
“Yes it is quite eye-catching isn’t it?.” Emily agreed.
“The ruffled collar is quite exquisite.” Added Ms. Winche.
“Yes, it is! It’s called a double-edge ruffle, they have a specialist who does all of them by hand.”
“I have a dress with a similar design except that…”
“Mine is of much higher quality, so nice of you to say Ms. Skawen!”
“Oh my friends hush and do look over at Freddie Chenoweth,” Ms. Winche whispered. “She is positively throwing herself at that soldier. Shameless!”
The collective of young gossips turned to look at the girl Ms. T_K had singled out. Frederica Chenoweth was half a head shorter than Emily with a spare, gracile figure. Emily knew that some men found this petiteness attractive but if you asked Emily, she believed Freddie was too thin.
Freddie giggled unfettered, a high-sing song noise. She had come to the party in a summery yellow dress with a golden floral pattern. It was an opulent garment but if you asked Emily, she suspected Freddie had obtained it from a store that sold outdated fashion at a bargain.
The girl was really enjoying her wedge of cake, eagerly shoveling her second helping into her mouth. When they attended primary school in Bath Freddie was made fun of for her thin as a rake physique, Emily noted that as an adult Freddie was able to devour as much sugary food as she liked and not gain a kilogram.
She wasn’t jealous, but if you asked Emily Stickles, the way Freddie lorded her gifted metabolism over others was quite distasteful.
What turned Emily Stickles’s mood foul however was not the stick in a dress, but who the stick was talking and laughing with. A tall, devilishly handsome man in a finely pressed naval uniform. He was meticulously groomed, with clean nails and intoxicating perfume. His mustache was styled in the popular fashion and dyed to cover any gray he may have acquired in his thirty years.
His only flaw, besides perhaps being too handsome, would be that his hair was a bit too long and combed into a high curly pompadour. It was considered a bit vulgar, but if you asked Emily, she found the man’s rebellious statement to be very appealing.
“Gerard Emerton.” Emily squared her shoulders and puffed out her chest. What she didn’t say out loud was that this was her Gerard Emerton. “This will not stand. Come with me girls.”
Ms. Brightling, Ms. Winche, Ms. T_K Skawen, and two others fell in step with Emily. They glided across the room like women who had spent their youth in finishing school.
Freddie was masticating on a spoonful of pastry when Emily and her coven approached her. They scowled as one at the willowy girl. Frederica looked up from her feast and caught the eye of each girl briefly, settling on Emily.
“Why are you all staring at me?” Freddie asked befuddled. She could sense something was amiss but didn’t know what it was about.
“You *****!” That was enough to cause Emily’s mood to boil over. How dare Freddie feign ignorance over a matter this serious! Before she realized what she was doing, Emily Stickles clenched a fist and drew back her arm.
Emily hesitated, unsure what she was going to do. Then she snatched the Vanilla Sponge cake from Freddie’s hand and pressed it into the girl’s comely face.
Frederica arched her head, flailing her arms as she was pushed backward. She blinked through the butter icing and looked down at her dress. “Why did you…”
Emily wasted no time taking a brisk step towards Freddie, clutching a handful of her dark hair, and t******* her readied fist squarely into the credulous girl’s stomach.
“G… guuuh!” Emily didn’t know how to throw a punch but it was enough to drive the wind from the elfin girl’s body and lift her to her toes. In reflex, Freddie’s already large brown eyes grew to twice their normal size. The waifish girl raised her arms as she inclined at the waist, forcing her to spew out the pastry she was eating in a sticky arc.
“Ew gross!” Emily wailed. The white goo spattered onto her face, bust, and down the front of her costly new dress. She was on the verge of tears as she feverishly attempted to clean the paste from her bosom but her efforts just made things worse. “Why did you spit on me!”
“Why did I…?” Freddie said through sobs, she kowtowed on the ground with her arms wrapped around her belly. “Why did you punch me in the stomach?”
“You spat all over me!” Emily cried.
“You punched me in the stomach!” Frederica wheezed.
“You ruined my dress!?” Screamed Emily.
“Because you punched me in the stomach!” Frederica returned.
“Well…” That logic stopped Emily for a moment. Then she screamed, “… You are having relations with my fiancé!”
A crowd was steadily gathering around the pair of fighting girls. At this revelation, there was a collective “ooh!”
“I didn’t even know you were engaged!” Freddie yelled back, she had managed to get up to one knee, “Who is your fiancé?”
“Why this man here, Mr. Emerton!” Emily indicated Gerard.
“Cheers!” Gerard said raising a red glass of ratafia.
“What?” Frederica shouted “You promiscuous slag! Gerard is to marry me!”
There was a collective gasp from the crowd. Elderly Mrs. Beerling was the last to put it together “So that handsome young man has agreed to marry both girls? Is that permitted? I wouldn’t mind finding a young stud like that to…”
“Oh, dear!” Gerard said with false contrition. “My web of lies has been untangled! However shall I hold my head up in public?”
Gerard struck a proud pose lifting his square jaw high. “Like this, I think, what say you Mr. Boucher?”
Mr. Boucher, who stood beside Gerard, laughed, “With your reputation Mr. Emerton it’s a wonder why you keep getting invited to these parties.”
“My reputation is why I keep getting invited to parties is it not?” Gerard returned.
Mr. Boucher erupted with laughter, “I can only hope you befoul one of the Chadbourne girls one day my boy, they all studied ballet!”
Frederica was back on her feet, fury overcoming injury, and moving towards Emily. The look she gave Emily made the taller blonde shrink away and rethink her actions. “Now Freddie… perhaps I…”
Emily’s song changed once she saw Frederica wasn’t just going to walk away and cry. “Perhaps I acted disproportionately Freddie, I’m sure Jessamyn’s launderers will be able to repair the dress. ”
“I think nothing of your blasted dress!” Frederica closed the distance between them. She laid her hands on each poofy shoulder of Emily’s blouse and wrenched down. The stylish Juliet sleeves ripped from collar to cuff, and then clean off of the tall blonde’s arms.
“Ah, you cow!” Emily’s jaw dropped in disbelief. She was appalled at the damage done to her precious dress. She retaliated by snatching up the frontage of Frederica’s full-length skirt. She held it with both fists, then rent the skirt up the middle.
The gossamer material split open from the bottom trim all the way to Freddie’s belly button, making a spectacle of the girl’s delicate legs and exquisite tummy. Frederica’s usually fetching face screwed up into a mask of ill-temper. She hauled back her hand and brought it viciously across Emily’s fine cheek. “You Swag Bellied Bitch!”
“Please girls,” Gerard said casually between sips of Regentia “Don’t fight over me, I’m not worth it.”
WHAP! The slap turned Emily’s head leaving a burning red mark on her pretty face and sent her stumbling. Just as she righted herself she found that another small open hand was sailing towards her.
WHAP! There was a loud crack as Freddie’s palm struck the side of the blonde’s face. This too twisted Emily’s head to the side. She blinked, stupefied, putting a hand on her smoldering cheek, a growing passion for slapping that little imp overwhelming her reason.
THWACK! Emily turned back and let her own hand fly, catching her target on the left. It sent the girl sideways for a step. “You look like death’s head on a mop handle!”
Freddie blinked tears from her eyes but was quickly back again, smacking Emily’s hair loose “Duchess of limbs!”
“Hell-born brat!” THWACK!
“I say, young man?” Mr. Boucher addressed Gerard as he poured them both another serving of Retalia. “With such delicate skin, how long do you think they can keep this up?”
“Shag bag!” THWACK!
“Back biter!” WHAP!
Gerard swirled the liquid in his glass and sniffed it, “Well, each of them kept me up all night.”
“Bull Calf!” WHAP!
The two young women huffed, glaring at each other through tears. There was a silent agreement between them, that neither could withstand another harsh slap to the face.
So they both withdrew to their corners, Emily to her friends and Frederica to hers. Sobbing and rubbing their flaming cheeks, but keeping a watchful eye on each other.
“Oh, poor Emily are you alright?” Cried Ms. Brightling.
“That unlicked cub couldn’t hurt me,” Emily said through messy tears.
“I’ve never seen girls fight like that.” exclaimed Ms. Skawen clearly invigorated by the sight, “Well, you whupped her good Ms. Stickles! She hasn’t an ounce of steel in her!”
“She thinks she shines everyone down.” Said Emily getting back into her role. Then she boldly called over at Freddie. “Cow-handed, Whey-faced Berk!”
Emily instantly regretted her words, as they got her opponent’s attention. Freddie was only a few feet away, and she turned sharply at Emily’s boast.
“Oh no!” Emily pleaded as Freddie strode toward her with renewed fury.
Glossary of insults.
Back Biter = gossip
Berk = C-word
Blowsabella = poor
Bull Calf = fat
Cow-Handed = Clumsy
Death’s head on a mop handle = Skinny
Duchess of Limbs = Tall, awkward
Fussock = fat
Gundiguts = fat
Hell born = lewd
Shabbaroon = poor
Shag Bag = poor
Swag Bellied = fat
Unlicked Cub = Rude
Whey-face = plain
“This is a receipt for that sucker punch! ” Freddie pulled Emily’s head down and ruthlessly thrust a knee up into the girl’s belly.
“Oh no! Poor Emily!” Ms. Winche said worriedly.
“Huuuurg!” A grunt came from somewhere deep inside Emily’s slender frame. The impact of Freddie’s knee against her soft, fragile stomach was solid. Thudding.
Emily was absolutely gobsmacked, bowed over at the waist, moon-eyed, open-mouthed, bare arms thrashing. Tears mixed with the black powder on her eyelashes causing dark runnels to run down her cheeks.
Unfortunately, Emily was ideally positioned for Frederica to plant her foot on the bottom hem of her dress and deal out the harshest slap yet.
WHAP! The tall girl took the blow full on the face. Her whole body spun around and she pitched forward. Her white muslin skirt did not.
RIIPP! As Emily stumbled about the rich fabric of her skirt came away in a long spiral. First revealing the girl’s skinny calves, then her milky white thighs, then her very naked bum. The lower portion of her dress parted ways just below the breast line.
Mr. Boucher admired “That girl looks like she tossed up with a flamingo for a pair of legs and lost!”
Gerard stroked his mustache, “Still. The flamingo is a lovely bird is not?”
As Emily reached out for balance Ms. Brightly instinctively hopped out of the way. Brightly quickly realized her mistake as Emily flew by her. “Oh no, I’m sorry Em!”
“I entreat you, beloved, lay hold of me!” She pleaded to Gerard Emerton, surely her own fiancé would save her. Instead, Gerard dodged gracefully out of her path as Emily plowed through the drink tray.
“Oh pardon me, Ms. Stickles,” Gerard said rescuing the bottle of Retalia and giving Emily a light smack on the bum. “That’s a good girl now.”
“Oof!” Emily belly-flopped roughly onto the top of the cart sending dozens of various alcoholic beakers to the floor. She faced a new crisis now as the cart continued to roll uncontrolled with her riding on it Emily bellowed “Aaahhh! Help me!”
Preferring not to fall, Emily held on for dear life as the cart rolled and turned as if possessed. She managed to pass by everyone who might want to see her bum, kicking and screaming.
Once she gained a modi*** of control over the cart she had only two options, both unfavorable.
She could aim herself at the servants who were bringing in the next course of appetizers. Or alternately try to stop herself by steering into the doors leading to the back lawn.
“Faith! Somebody help me!” Emily pleaded as she lay on her belly riding a runaway drink cart.
Her blonde hair fell down her face in two golden curly ribbons. The pretty girl’s cheeks were scarlet from the many slaps she had endured to the face during her fight with Frederica. A brawl she had foolishly started herself.
Worse than her tender cheeks was the demise of her beautiful new Jessamyn stitched dress. her prized gown was little more than the shoulder straps and a scrap of cloth covering her bosom. Everything below her breasts has been stripped away and she had lost her stockings and shoes as well.
Emily sailed from one end of the room to the other. Her cute round bottom on exhibit, floundering her bare limbs as though she were a beached seal. Much to the delight of the party attendees. It did not escape her notice that she received more than a few stiff smacks to her bare derrière as she rolled by. “Ow! Ow! Stop it!”
“Ms. Stickles is heading for the door!” One of the house staff members cried out. “Get it open post haste so she isn’t injured!”
“No don’t open the d… ahhh!” Instead of crashing into the wall to stop her momentum, she rolled unimpeded through the open doorway.
The young lady felt the warm spring air heat up her backside as her cart was put out into the afternoon air.
“I say Mr. Emerton?” inquired Mr. Boucher, “how far do think Ms. Stickles will get on that cart of hers?”
“That sounds like a wager!“ Gerard slammed a wad of paper money on their drink tray, after theirs was rudely destroyed they had commandeered a new cart and were taking it with them as they followed Emily’s adventures. He offered his hand to his elder “Ten pounds says she won’t get past the first set of steps. What day you Old Man?“
“I think I’m about to lose ten pounds.” Agreed Mr. Boucher “Double or nothing she gets onto the grass.”
The two friends shook hands.
“Aaah!” The bare-assed lass rolled out onto the paved walkway that led through the outside sitting area, down a series of steps, across a small overpass that bridged between the upper and lower areas, and finally onto the back lawn.
It would be easy enough to just let go of the cart but The bottomless blonde had no idea how she could land safely and couldn’t will herself to loosen her grip. As the cart spun about Emily caught sight of a new dilemma.
“Oh Sard the stairs!” The cart tipped forward and jostled violently as it rumbled down the first set of steps. Somehow she managed to hold on but was looking at the house and not where she was going.
Emily rolled across a small flat area of the walkway then hit a second set of steps. The cart veered to the side and hit the concrete Greek-inspired side railing, launching the bare assed blonde girl high into the air.
RIP! To Emily’s abject horror, as she took flight over the pillared railing, she became aware that her tattered half-blouse was snagged to the cart. The muslin fabric was not made for such stress and tore free of her body.
For a brief, glorious, moment Emily hung naked in the air, blonde hair floating around her lovely face, her slender willowy figure wrapped in nothing but the clothes we are all born in.
Emily completed a clumsy backflip to clear the railing. The tall Junoesque girl made a big clumsy splash as her lanky body plummeted into the opaque water below.
She pushed out of the murky depths with her head up and back arched, flipping her hair back as though she were a mermaid. Beads of water made the lustrous, satiny skin of her trim belly and hips glisten in the afternoon sun. She had an even sun-kissed complexion that suited her natural golden hair. The cold air ran across Emily’s pert, plentiful breasts so that they swelled in salute.
“My word, what a figure! Maybe the finest pies in France.” Mr. Boucher handed over twenty pounds, “I don’t suppose my losses would buy me details of how Ms. Stickles was in the sack? At my age all I have are stories.”
“All I will say is that those long limbs are as nimble as one could hope for, but as you can see dear Ms. Stickles lacks coordination and stamina. One needs to establish control of the beast and pace one’s self.” said Gerard, “But you know that a gentleman should not kiss and tell Mr. Boucher..”
“Mr. Emerton, I thought we were friends.” Mr. Boucher pouted in disappointment.
Gerard conceded “I will write it down for you, to browse at your convenience, Old Man.”
“God’s hooks! What happened?” Emily sobbed pounding the surface of the water with her fists. Emily threw a tantrum as she waded in the pond, the water just high enough to cover her carefully groomed womanhood. Droplets streamed from her honey-gold hair, trailing down the subtle curves of her elongated figure “All I wanted was to show off my new dress and now I’m naked! Why am I naked?”
“My dear Emily,” Gerard called from where he and Mr. Boucher stood on the walkway. “Showing us your beautiful behind is the least you could do after spoiling so much expensive booze!”
“That’s not funny!” Emily screamed from her watery shelter. “Somebody get me some clothes! Everyone stop looking at me!”
The petite, slight Frederica Chenoweth made her way down the walkway, holding her dress together where it had been torn open in the front. She stood next to her fiancé Mr. Emerton failing to hide her amusement. “I hit her once and Emily has gone for a swim in her birthday suit.”
“Aye Freddie!” Said Gerard raising a glass to the nymph “T’was the slap heard around the world!”
“You!” Seethed Emily Stickles as she spied Freddie’s dark hair in the crowd. “You did this to me!”
Freddie stepped off the walkway to reach the water’s edge where the naked young woman’s temper was boiling over. The diminutive girl extended her hand to assist Emily, a peace offering “Had enough Ms. Stickles..?”
Emily considered the hand of her opponent, the fire within her slowly burning out. With a sigh, she accepted Freddie’s hand and pulled herself out of the pond.
She did not release her hand though…
…Instead, she tugged Freddie in close and curled a punch into the scrawny girl’s stomach. Freddie’s eyes crossed as her breath was forcefully expelled from her body. She coughed, stooping forward, trying to hold onto Emily for support. “Woof!”
The winded girl whimpered as Emily seized her by the hair to stand her upright. Then she jammed her fingers down the cleavage of Frederica’s frayed black dress and callously yanked downward so that the delicate muslin fabric ripped apart. The dress came away altogether in shreds. RIP!
“Oh, she truly is a pixie!” Mr. Boucher admired. Indeed, while Frederica was of average height, everything about her figure was dainty and delicate. Slight torso, with small but well-shaped breasts, on slender long legs. Much like a painter might draw a fairy.
Emily restrained the smaller girl for a long time. making sure Mr. Boucher would be able to recall the memory of her **** body whenever he pleased. Then she kneed Freddie in the belly and shoved her into the pond. “Hoog!”
SPLOOSH! Freddie hit the water face first and came up sputtering and coughing. Her long raven hair clung to her face and shoulders as she gasped for breath. The petite girl cursed. She swam to the shore in time to ****** Emily’s bare leg and hauled the blonde back into the murky black water. The tall blonde yelled her own curse as she tumbled back into the pond making a big splash. “You *****!”
Emily emerged facing away from Frederica, her face draped in golden hair that momentarily blinded her. Freddie capitalized by clutching the blonde by the hair, turning her about, and smashing her fist into the blonde’s vulnerable tummy. “Ow! Let go…oooh!”
Emily defensively grabbed onto Frederica’s dark curls and yanked at her scalp. When Freddie raised her hands to try and disengage Emily she was punished with a punch to the gut that lifted her bare **** a few centimeters into the air. “Oof!”
Each girl had a hand tangled in each other’s hair. Without a stitch of cloth between them, there was nothing else but slick wet skin to try to hold on to. The punches were exhausting and painful but were the only viable attack either of them had. It was a vicious cycle neither Freddie nor Emily was willing to break. So they silently agreed to keep trading them until one of them got the upper hand.
“Bitch!” Frederica spat burying her arm wrist-deep into the walking beanpole.
“Ouph!” Emily was still trying to regain her breath from the last punishment her belly had endured when another blow found its way through. Emily threw her own punch catching the gator-mouthed walking stick in the belly button. “Little Whore!”
“Ugn!” Freddie grunted. Neither girl knew how to fight well and their punches were awkward and weak, but so were their bodies. She wouldn’t admit it but Emily’s body blows were absolutely devastating to her. Freddie couldn’t remember exactly why they were fighting either, except that she had always wanted to punch stupid Emily Stickles in her stupid mouth.
“Bitch!” Freddie swore, cutting up into Emily’s sternum. These seemed to really knock the wind out of the skinny blonde giving Frederica a moment of reprieve.
“What an embarrassing display,” Ana Chadbourne chastised her four younger sisters as they watched the young ladies tussle naked in the pond “and over a man. You will never see me act so foolishly over a scoundrel la Mr. Emerton!”
“Yes, sister.” Said Primrose, a year Ana’s junior.
“No matter how devilishly handsome he may be…” Ana added quietly under her breath.
“Little Whore!” Emily screamed, they were both out of creative expletives to hurl at each other.
She drove her knee up into her opponent’s tiny midriff.
Freddie’s gut received the knee fully and her naked little body was lifted off the ground. “Oh… huh…huh!”
“My, they certainly do fight la wildcats don’t they?” Mr. Boucher said. He was entranced at the spectacle of the young ladies wrestling in the water. As they pulled, punched, and slapped the **** girls were a tantalizing mess of slender limbs and smooth white skin. Both were sobbing as Neither girl could gain the advantage or escape the grapple.
“Would you like an account of my evening with Ms. Chenoweth as well?” Gerard suggested.
“Oh god yes!” Said Mr. Boucher.
Freddie threw a wild punch that Emily was able to back away from. The blonde swung her own fist but the shorter girl ducked under it easily. They kicked at each other awkwardly, neither able to land a blow.”
“I say, Mr. Emerton.” Said Mr. Boucher brightening. “Look at how these girls hold the attention of all these people. I wonder if we could make money in the city by charging voyeurs to watch your former lovers wrestle each other.”
“Faith! You’ve discovered the secret of my fortune Mr. Boucher.” Gerard laughed, “nay if we were to throw such events la once a week what would we do the second year?”
“Why that’s la a hundred women!” Mr. Boucher was both flustered and impressed. “I suppose you would have to sleep with some of them again to keep them angry. Maybe we could put on some tag team matches…”
“Did the little one just kick the big one in the groin?” Ms. Beerling exclaimed in disbelief.
“It was higher, between her legs.” Ms. Skawen corrected.
“Oh, poor Emily!” Cried Ms. Winche.
“Oh Em I’m sorry! it was an accident!” Freddie said sincerely. Even a**** girls, there were lines that shouldn’t be crossed.
Fire erupted in Emily Stickles’ lady box as the tibia of Freddie’s leg landed with a thump between her thighs. The blonde’s eyes crossed and her face turned red. She threw her hands over her honey pot and keeled over on the dirt bank of the small garden moat. “Little *****…”
Emily lay there sobbing, questioning her recent life choices. Frederica started to stumble towards Emily but turned and collapsed face down on the other bank holding her stomach and moaning. “Bitch! Oooh…”
The girls were ****, bare skin shiny with water and perspiration as they both lay breathing hard and nearly unconscious on either side of the pond.
“Ms. Stickles!” Cried Ms. Brightley. “Are you alright?”
Emily’s friends helped her sit up straight. She looked over herself for injury but found nothing that would amount to more than a bruise.
“Oh, poor Emily! I would just die if I lost my garments in front of all these eligible men!” Declared Ms. Winche “You must be mortified! Are you mortified? I would be mortified!”
“Are you still alive?” Ms. Stickles called. Then she added “Whore.”
On the other bank, Ms. Chenoweth was on her back with her arms wrapped around her belly. She patiently waited to regain her breath as she watched the clouds roll across the sky. It had rained that morning and it was always a beautiful day after it rains.
“Huff! …Ms. Stickles… Huff!” Freddie answered between shallow breaths. She had thought of a clever retort but all that came out was “Bitch!”
The girls sat like that for a few minutes, too tired to bother covering themselves up. Then Emily was the first to rouse herself. She waved Ms. Brightley and Ms. Winche away and waded through the water to the other bank. Frederica had almost passed out till once again she was being manhandled. Emily was unable to drag the tiny brunette across the ground, but the pain of having her hair yanked forced Freddie to get to her feet.
Gerard Emerton received a poke in the shoulder. He turned to see an angry red, almost black, haired woman, glaring up at him with her face scrunched up like an adorable pug. This was Ana Chadbourne, a girl he knew in passing, who had the reputation of being a bullheaded shrew whose worldly cleverness made educated men uncomfortable. It had been some time since he had seen Ana, and he would now add “breathtakingly beautiful” to the list of ways to describe her.
“Mr. Emerton this has gone on quite long enough.” She chastised. Ana, he would learn, always seemed to have a strand of hair loose that Gerard couldn’t help but follow with his eyes as she spoke. Positively vexing. “It’s bad enough that those poor girls had to suffer a night in your bed, now they have put on the most embarrassing show trying to win your attention back. I insist you put a stop to this…”
“A night they are willing to fight each other over just to repeat, ” Gerard said brushing her cheek with his hand as he nestled that infuriating fiber of hair behind her ear. “but you have certainly gained my attention dear Ms. Chadbourne, may I call on you sometime?”
“I…” Ana’s eyes went wide as saucers and her complexion turned as red as her hair. Without opening her mouth she squealed, then turned and left without another word.
To Mr. Boucher, he said, “I believe I’ve just met my next jilted fiance.”
“No Ms. Stickles!” Ms. Brightley called. Emily towed Ms. Chenoweth by her raven locks to the edge of the upper gardens where it met a wall and dropped off suddenly. Two meters below them was where the lawn began. It had rained through the night and morning leaving substantial mud holes on the ground. If you asked Emily, Freddie would look very attractive wearing some of that muck. “She’s going to throw Freddie over the rim!”
“They are both going over” affirmed Gerard watching Frederica windmilling her arms at Emily trying to extricate herself. “Freddie weighs nothing, a man could pick her up easily, but Ms. Stickles doesn’t have the upper body strength. There they go… ”
“Release me you giant gollumpus!” Frederica was too light to overcome Emily in a wrestling bout, and she could not batter her way out of the larger girl’s clench. As Mr. Emerton had reckoned their scuffling led to both naked girls toppling over the lip. They each went pitchpole, stern over bow, dropping roughly into the muddy slush.
The two girls were a magnificent sight. Their dainty, naked bodies appeared to float for a brief instant. They fell the height of a tall man, then landed prostrate, stretched out with their pretty faces planted in the mire. Directly they rolled over onto their backs freshly winded, wrapping their bare arms around their tummies puffing for breath.
“Gross!” Emily balled. Her blonde hair had turned to chocolate and was draped over her face so that her bright blue eyes stood out “I rub it off, and more appears! It’s getting everywhere!”
“ptoo!” Frederica spat out a mouthful of mud. It had the consistency of clay, slippery and sticky, coating her in a slick, wet second skin of cocoa. Her black, voluminous hair was now matted to her head and shoulders. “Everywhere, yet somehow I can’t get it to conceal my teat.”
They may as well have been walking on ice, feet tripping and sliding as they faced off once more. Emily attempted to slap the side of Freddie’s face but got nowhere near her target and pancaked back into the mud pit.
As Emily dislodged her head from the muck, Freddie was on top of her pushing her face back down. Freddie put her knee on the blonde’s back and wrenched one of her long legs towards Emily’s head. This stretched her hamstring and abdomen causing Emily to writhe. She reached behind her and jerked unsparingly on Freddie’s hair forcing her to give up her grip. “Get… your hands… off of me!”
“Whoah!” From the ground, Emily took hold of Freddie’s calves and hoisted the slight girl up over her shoulders. Freddie went heel over head and landed in the sludge on her back. The blonde wrapped her long legs around the girl’s neck, hooking her feet together. The small girl wiggled and kicked but try as she might, Frederica was unable to pry her bird-legs loose. “Ugn!”
“You’re doing good Ms. Stickles!” Ms. Brightley cheered.
Emily turned on her side, trapping Freddie’s arm under her, and reapplying the scissors, this time putting a foot behind her knee for a tighter lock. Freddie brought up both her knees defensively as Emily pounded a few punches into her unguarded belly “Ooh no! Ouph!”
“Eh wot?” The blonde boasted, flexing her arm like strongmen do to show off her bicep. “Didn’t know you were tussling with the Pink of the Ton did you?”
“What are you going to do about it?” The dominant blonde caught her captives’ nearest leg between her upper arm and ribs. With that same arm, she had a hold of Freddie’s other wrist. Tightening the overall restraint. It took nearly a minute of kicking and wiggling for the naked pixie to get her leg under Emily’s shoulder and slacken the hold.
The blonde moved to a sitting position protecting herself from the petite wildcats’ kicks. Frederica was trying to fit her arms between Emily’s thighs to free her head but Ms. Stickles was fully in control. She had Freddie flat on her back and sat on the smaller girl’s chest, once again locking her feet together, so that she was looking at Emily’s backside. Then she jammed her elbow into the girl’s stomach and put all of her superior weight into it. “Uhhh…”
Emily moved her legs from Freddie’s neck to wrap around the girl’s waist. Emily wedged her feet under Freddie’s knees and forced her to spread her legs wide. She was trapped there for several seconds, very aware of what the people watching the fight could see.
“Mph!” Then Emily bowed Freddie forward, digging her knees into the girl’s hamstrings, pushing her abductors beyond their limits, and pressing her face into the mud. Frederica thrashed her arms and screamed into the dirt as she was forced into the straddle splits. As a child, she stretched every night but she had lost much of that flexibility and she was never able to go completely flat like this. Emily pressed her further into the mud by sitting on Freddie’s **** and pulling her wrists back. “Ahhh!”
“Nyah!” The blonde turned around wrapping Freddie’s skinny legs together before bending Freddie’s lower body at a painful angle. This put an incredible amount of strain on the tiny girl’s thigh extensor, lower rectus abdominis, and longissimus. Freddie howled in torment pushing herself off the ground to relieve the strain, but it got worse…
…Emily lowered her back to the ground and lifted her pelvis to bridge her weight to her shoulders at one end and feet at the other. Freddie bellowed as her back was curved so that her feet were touching her shoulder blades. “Eee!”
At last, Emily got off of her. She put her hands on her hips and leaned over to engage her diaphragm and catch her breath. Freddie lay in the mud holding her back and inner thighs, moaning. She got up into a stumbling run, but only limped a few steps before Emily tackled her legs and both girls tumbled facewards into the clay.
“However, I do think it’s past time for me to be involved,” said Gerard rolling up his sleeves. “We wouldn’t want the girls to do anything they couldn’t live down.”
The blonde got on top of Freddie again and plowed her knee between the girl’s legs. Then withdrew and did it again. Freddie burst into tears as a wave of anguish went through her pelvis. “Oooh!”
“… and they’re back to pulling each other’s hair,” Gerard said, sounding bored.
“Let go of me!” Emily screeched. The mud-soaked girls were on their knees and digging their claws into each other’s tangled matted locks.
“I’ll let go when you let go!” Freddie wailed. This was the most physical activity they had done in their lives and they were both beyond exhausted. Not willing to surrender. Also not willing to escalate the fight again by throwing a punch or slap.
Gerard stepped out into the sludge, able to navigate it much easier with his boots. He seized Frederica by the elbow and pulled her off of Emily, throwing her clear of the mud. There was a large crowd gathered, many of them carrying water buckets. “No! I’m winning!”
“Eek!” As soon as she straightened up the staff and party-goers tossed the contents of their buckets at her. The petite vixen closed her eyes as chilled water slammed into her face and chest. cleaning the mud from her skin. A second and third round of water mostly washed away the mud. Freddie sputtered and stumbled, as naked as Eve after she ate the apple.
Emily was having a good laugh at Freddie’s expense, but Gerard got a hold of her too.
She screamed with indignation as the eager staff pummeled her with cold water over and over. To Mr. Emerton’s credit, the staff would remember this as the best day of work in their entire careers.
“No! Mr. Emerton what are you going to do to me?” Emily was no match for Gerard’s masculine strength as he dragged her up the steps.
“You stay!” He commanded firmly as though she were a dog. For some reason she obeyed, making no move to escape, and lingered there holding her hands over her most interesting parts.
Frederica was laughing now, “Now you’ll get a whuppin’ Ms. Stickles!”
“Oh don’t think you’re getting out of this little Freddie.” Gerard scolded. The petite girl tried to run but the man quickly caught her and dragged her over to where Ms. Stickles was awaiting her punishment.
“Don’t you lay a hand on me, Mr. Emerton!” Warned Ms. Chenoweth. The girls stood next to each other, sopping wet, naked as a pair of jaybirds.
Gerard ignored her complaints clutching both girls by the wrists and taking a seat at one of the stone benches. He draped Emily, ass up, over his lap, then pulled Freddie on top of her at an angle and gave each rump a firm spank. “Ow!”
“Ooh!” said old Mrs. Beerling excitedly, she reached into her handbag and produced a high-quality hairbrush “Here is a comb, to beat the ladies with Mr. Emerton.”
“Mrs. Beerling,” Gerard conspired, “Did you bring this to the party hoping there would be some spanking?”
“It’s made of tempered bone! Much harder than wood!” old Mrs. Beerling giggled.
“Now your kicking and yelling will do you no good girls.” Gerard reprimanded as he brought down the comb in a practiced rhythm.
“Oh!” Frederica objected, the harsh cuffs thrusting her little figure forward. “Stop it!”
“Ow! Ow! Ow! I can’t bear it!” Emily fussed, tossing her flaxen hair and cutely kicking her thin, smooth, long legs.
“Oh! You brute! Ow!” Gerard Emerton distributed the blows evenly across both girls’ bottoms. Merrily administering discipline with sharp crisp whacks.
After a dozen such swats, Gerard asked. “How old are you girls?”
“Emily’s nineteen,” said Ms. Winche helpfully, “I believe Freddie is the same.”
“Ow! Shut your ***** mouth Ms. Winche! Ow!” Emily berated, giving her friend a murderous look.
“Oh my!” said Ms. Winche, taken aback by her friend’s vulgarity, but then understanding came over her, “Oh poor Emily!”
Mr. Emerton made sure the brats received a thorough spanking. After forty or so whacks between the two girls’ lovely fannies, Gerard set the comb down and simply got up so that the girls spilled out onto the ground. He accepted a fresh glass of Regentia
The bucket brigade was waiting for them and slammed the girls with another round of cold water. The **** girls each sat on their knees and held their red bottoms, pouting.
“So ladies, you obviously have more carps between one another besides our mutual relationship.” said Gerard, “are you quite done beating the piss out of each other?”
Emily and Freddie looked over their shoulders at each other.
“Girls?” Gerard asserted picking up the comb. Fearing another spanking the girls silently agreed to stop fighting and nodded their heads.
“Good,” Gerard affirmed. “Now Ms. Chenoweth I want you to pay Ms. Stickles a compliment.”
“What? She started it..!”
Gerard raised the comb in a warning. “Freddie?”
“You um…” Frederica mumbled half-heartedly, “I’ve always admired your yellow hair color.”
“See! Isn’t that nice?” Gerard smiled, “It’s your turn now Ms. Stickles.”
“Well, you have um…” Emily took some time to consider her words. “a really great body.”
“What?” Freddie said both astonished and amused.
“A sweet-goer! A prime bit of flesh!” Speaking nicely to Ms. Chenoweth appeared to pain, Ms. Stickles.
Frederica raised her voice, “Are you saying I look like a horse?”
“Now Freddie…” said Gerard shifting as though he was going to step in between them.
“especially nice breasts… ” Emily muttered.
Gerard seemed satisfied. “Alright, now that you are both dressed for it perhaps we can get to the real business of this evening then? Yes?”
The girls looked confused. Then Freddie spoke, “Sex?”
Gerard pointed at the pixie girl and touched his nose. Freddie carried on, “She’s coming too?”
“Yes, please!” Emily blurted a bit too eagerly.
The girls pranced, one after the other, towards the house giggling. Gerard trailed behind them holding the comb as a band leader’s staff. “All right let’s find a guest room. Let’s make the most of the long night ladies.”
When he crossed paths with Ana Chadbourne he stopped. “I don’t suppose we could skip months of foreplay and have you join us?”
Ana’s face turned almost as red as her hair. “I would sooner bed with your horse!”
“A tough act to follow” frowned Gerard. “Though I was addressing Ms. Brightley.”
Ms. Brightley stood behind Ms. Chadbourne. A huge smile lit up her face. “Oh yes please Mr. Emerton!”
“Hurry up now Ms. Brightley.” Gerard chimed. He threw the laughing girl over his shoulder and proceeded to the house to start the real party.