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Subject: {ASSM} Kat Fighter pt 1 [mf ff]
Date: Wed, 12 Jul 2000 08:10:05 -0400
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Kat Fighter
Part One: Re-Enter the Kat
Jacobin
jacobin2k@hotmail.com


Standard disclaimers regarding sexually explicit material apply. The
good reader is reminded in particular that works of fiction often
neglect real-world risks and consequences which should be taken into
consideration in any re-creation or work-inspired acts.

This was originally posted 7/2000. As this is my fifth work of this
kind and my first work in series, feedback or requests to continue (or
stop, even) are appreciated at jacobin2k@hotmail.com

This work is copyright (c) by the author. You may download and keep
copies for your personal use as long as the author's byline,
disclaimer, e-mail address, and these three paragraphs remain on the
copies. Posting to newsgroups or on websites (with the specific
exception of www.asstr-mirror.org) is not permitted unless you have my express
written or email consent, and then only as long as no money is charged
for access and the author's byline, disclaimer, e-mail address, and
these three paragraphs remain on the story. Please respect my work as
much as I've tried to respect the reader.

--


Katherine Connors was tall, lean, and a fighter. She competed on her
high school's Open Style Martial Arts team, but no one called it
anything but fighting. It had seemed weird to Katherine when she'd
first moved to View, a town of maybe 4,000 in northeast Oregon among
national park reserves and farms: a set of unpopulated counties in the
rural Northwest participating in organized, ranked brawling, but nearly
two years into it, it was just another turn in the year, with softball,
track, volleyball. Fighting, like Judo (but not Rifle) wasn't NCAA
sanctioned, wouldn't win her scholarships, but Katherine took to it
early and had been ranked 15th in the county before she tore a ligament
and broke her kneecap badly when an opponent swept Kat's left leg as
Kat attempted an ill-advised crescent kick.


Katherine was starting to stretch her knee for herself for the first
time coming out of rehab, skipping rope in her garage. Katherine felt
like celebrating, the hits of the plastic rope like firecrackers
in the empty garage. The garage was tools and shelves around her as she
worked. Kat stood six feet under the rafters as she caught the rope on
one foot, stumbling. She was a striker, her face a thin parabola from
blunt chin to thin, curving cheeks and her tall forehead, her black
hair back in a pony tail, her lips thin and level, her blue eyes light
and unimpressed.


The day before school started and the first practices, her knee felt
great, and when she started to relax, easily bouncing on the balls of
her feet, it felt good to grin, the muscle movements coming back to her
after months of frowning. In the mirror, she looked good, her blue eyes
alive again, flashing in the sun beaming through the side windows,
sweat on her forehead, the deepening wet stain on the grey sports bra,
and with each hot, dusty breath Katherine felt stronger. She started to
work double-time, feeling warm joy spread from her quick heart.


Mike (unrated, not a fighter) stood in the doorway to the house, taller
than Katherine and strikingly handsome in a manufactured, chain-
clothing store way, square-jawed, dimpled, short nosed, easy to imagine
in his baseball jersey, his minor-league contract already signed. His
smile revealed his perfect teeth.

"Don't push it too far," he said.

"Let yourself in, Mike," Katherine replied. "Parents aren't home."

Mike raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yup," Katherine replied, coming back to normal time. "This feels so
good, I can't believe it." She started to do cross-overs.

"You know what else would feel good?"

Katherine stopped jumping, and looked at Mike, hands on hips, rope
dangling. She sighed. "Allright, come on, then."

They almost skipped down the hall to Kat's bedroom, where Kat sat down
on the bed, facing Mike, undid his shorts and let them drop to his
ankles, exposing his hairy thighs and his gravity-defying erection. Kat
started to stroke it. It was, as Katherine had once told Lisa, a
perfect blow-me size, like a particularly long sucker, with an in-line
head, not much of a lip between shaft and head at all. It wasn't large,
but Kat had grown particularly fond of it. She put a hand around the
base and ran it up slowly.

"What'd you want, exactly?" she asked, grinning up at him.

"That's just fine," Mike said.

Katherine stroked him slowly, amused at his growing and obvious
discomfort.

"That's it?"

"Keep going," Mike said.

Kat managed to shrug while she kept moving her hand up and down,
finally taking a firm grasp to jerk him harder.

"Better that way?"

Mike nodded. Katherine worked him harder, leaning forward to get close
to the deep red head of his penis, holding there.

"Nothing else?" She stuck out her tongue to lick, barely, the underside
of his head, causing his whole length to jump in response. Katherine
returned to stroking.

"You're cute when you're anxious," she said.

"Please?" Mike asked.

Katherine smiled and took just the head of his penis across her lips,
out, and then back.

"Yeah?" she asked.

He just moaned.

Katherine kept on, moving farther and farther down with each bob of her
head. Mike started to push further in, and Katherine regained her grip
at the base of his dick, slowing him down. He was already breathing
hard, tossing his head back, and Kat decided not to prolong things,
moving her lips over his head quickly while stroking him in time. He
groaned loudly and pushed against Katherine's restraining grip,
twitching as he came in her mouth. Katherine kept on him a little,
gentler, getting the last string, and then looked up at Mike's
satisfied face and licked her lips.

"That better?" she asked.

He nodded, dumbly. "Do you, uh, want me to...?"

Katherine smiled and shook her head. "No, not now. Later, maybe." She
pulled his shorts back up and patted the bed next to her. "Sit."

Mike sat cross-legged next to her.

"We going out later?" Katherine asked.

"I don't know."

"You got work?"

"Yeah. And stuff."

Katherine watched his eyes dart around her. "What's going on?"

"We should talk about something," Mike said.

"Talk about what?" Katherine asked, wary.

"Well, here's the thing. I'm going to be doing two sports when school
starts, and I'm going to have to be studying real hard to get a decent
score on the SATs or I won't get a scholarship, and I'm going to be
working, too, so I don't know if I'm going to have time--"

Katherine went cold and she looked away from him at the Run Lola Run
poster over his right shoulder. When she looked back, Mike was still
there.

"What?" she said. "What the hell?"

"I just mean I don't know that I can give you the time a relationship
needs, okay?"

Katherine stared at him.

"I can't even believe this. You are.. this is... Get out, get out of my
room."

"You know, that's part of your problem -- you're a real bitch
sometimes." Mike sneered as he walked out of the room, as if this had
all been Katherine's fault.

Katherine stared at the wall straight ahead of her. Her parents would
be home in a couple of hours. It would probably be best to fess up that
Mike had dumped her, because bringing it up right afterwards would
allow her to cut short conversation. She would not, of course, mention
that Mike had gotten off one last time before he'd dumped her.
Katherine would need to brush her teeth before then, too, and the
nausea came over her suddenly and Kat threw up into the bed-side thrash
can, over and over, tears running down her face as she kept on vomiting
until there was nothing left to push back out. Katherine was still
heaving as she walked the plastic sack of trash and stomach contents
out to the cans, as if her body would not accept that there was nothing
left of him to reject anymore. Katherine used the nastiest mouthwash in
the house, her dad's straight Listerine, and as she brushed her teeth
between rinses she started to plan again.

Kat's face in the mirror was hard and red again, the same way she'd
looked when she'd been told how long it would be before the knee brace
came off.



The next day, Katherine stopped on her way to school to pick up her
best friend, Lisa, ranked #8, who was dressed for practice in dumpy
Whitman College sweats. Lisa was a good sidekick to Katherine, shorter,
her build stockier, breasts defining the sweatshirt, her fair Finnish
face open and honest, framed by stringy, long blonde hair of eight
shades. Where Kat looked like a swimmer, a volleyball player, Lisa gave
the impression she might be looking forward to state trials in weight
lifting. And where Katherine was weak with people, Lisa was observant,
empathetic, and strong.

On the step of her house, Lisa stopped, regarding Katherine oddly in
the pale pre-dawn light.

"You look down, Kat," Lisa said.

"Mike dumped me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Lisa said. "You okay?"

"He made sure we had sex before he told me."

Lisa rolled her eyes and stamped her foot loudly. "Fuck!" She shook her
head. "Oh, Kat, I am so sorry." She stepped up and gave Katherine a
tight hug and let go. "Come on, walk and talk."

Katherine told her everything, and Lisa listened, made sympathetic
noises, and swore at the right time. By the time they arrived at school
barely ten minutes later, Katherine had already started to feel better.



The dead soccer field still gleamed with dew as they walked out from
the locker rooms. The Women's Open instructor, Ms. Atin, stood in the
morning sun, smiling as the girls walked out.

"Good to see you again, Kat," Atin said.

"And it's good to see you again, Ms. Atin," Katherine said, walking
onto the field.

Due to the nature of the sport, Atin ran a style-neutral program, short
two conditioning practices and drills before school and longer
scrimmage matches in the afternoon. The girls were expected to pick
schools on their own or take straight karate from Atin herself two
nights a week and weekends. Lisa was her prize student.



Kat felt good on the field, doing their stretches, their long tae kwon
do drills. She could feel the moves start to return to her, muscle
memory stirring as she warmed in the cool air.



Even in the half-speed practice, Katherine was overmatched. Her
partner, Terry Mendoza, #50, put a straight punch right into
Katherine's right eye as Katherine missed an easy block. Terry
apologized, fussed over it for a second, and they resumed. Katherine
missed the same block, stepping straight forward into Terry's fist
again, same eye, same glancing blow off the orbital bone, and Katherine
had to go back to the locker room to have the school nurse, a nervous
male nurse of 27 cut the bruise open with wobbly hands and drain it
gruesomely.



When the squad started to trickle back in, Katherine was still icing
her eye with a gigantic cold pack, sitting on the cloth director's
chair in the locker room office. Terry was first in, finding Katherine
almost immediately, apologizing all at once, Katherine waving her off.

"I didn't think you'd come forward, I tried to pull it," Terry said,
looking like she might cry. "I'm sorry, and on your first day back..."

Katherine shook her head slowly.

"My fault," Katherine said. "I'm out of practice, is all." She held out
a hand for Terry, who shook. There was an elaborate snake tatooed on
the inside of Terry's wrist. "You're faster than I remember."

Terry smiled. "Let me know if you want to practice to catch up or
anything, okay? It's great to see you back."

Katherine nodded, and Terry walked off for the lockers.

"Lemme see," Lisa asked, an evil grin on her face. Kelley pulled the
cold pack off for a moment.

"Holy shit, Kat, that's the nastiest shiner I've ever seen." Lisa
blinked. "Wow!" She started to laugh. "It's so bad."

"Leave me to my misery, please."

"It's not that bad," Lisa said, trying to maintain a straight face. "No
one will notice." She giggled and walked off, looking back to laugh
again.

Lisa was bumped aside as she was distracted by women coming towards the
office, concern thin on their tan faces. They ignored Lisa and stopped
just short of the office.

It was Suzette, ranked #2, and her friends. Suzette was a cold,
calculating girl, her athletic build concealing a political mind and
keen sense for weakness. She wore short skirts, all the better to
manipulate with, and tight, stomach-revealing tops. She had once been
suspended for a week for a series of illegal neck punches she'd knocked
Kat down with, taking her out before that week's meet. Katherine had
accepted Suzette's apology at the time. Katherine's low-varsity slot
for the next match had gone to one of Suzette's friends, who in turn
got to put a letter on her jacket.

"Oh, Katy, I heard about Mike. Look, this is going to sound weird, but
do you mind if I go out with him?"

Katherine stopped and tried to remain composed.

One of the advantages to a populace well trained to beat on each other
is that it rarely occurs - both sides are well aware of the potential
damage a real fight could do.

"Be my guest," Katherine replied. "I think you'll find his calendar's
all booked up, though."

Suzette gave Katherine a look of mock shock. "Really? I just saw him
with the freshman Simmons girl last night!" She almost lost her
composure, barely stifling a laugh. "Must have been someone else who
looked just like Mike. Oh well. See you around?"

She didn't wait for a response but flounced off, her friends giggling
behind her.



Katherine put her casuals on alone and, holding the pack to her eye,
lurched down the halls to her first class, through the packs of the
Latino children, sons and daughters of farm laborers, many skirting the
school dress code prohibiting gang colors (the tract housing of the
laborers was rife with corner-to-corner gangs at night, Lisa's dad and
grandfather both fighting losing battles against poverty, today's
arrest next month's absent parent), the little clumps of white farm and
store-owner children, the progressive mixed ethnic spread of the
government fish, wildlife, and forest workers, and the goat-ropers of
all walks, wearing their cowboy hats and boots as they stepped gingerly
around the poorer kids who looked at them with an eye on resale value.

They all stared at Kat.

Her 20th Century History teacher did a double-take but made no comment,
instead passing out the syllabus and class policy packet. Katherine
paid him no mind, instead replaying the hits over and over in her mind.
Terry was fast, but not so fast that she should have gotten through.
Katherine had reacted clumsily, her reactions not even the simple, fast
karate Mrs. Atin had taught her last year.

Katherine set it up in her head again, watched the blow come. What was
the correct reaction? She mapped out two, saw two more, sketched them
out on her notepad. Her stick figures were terrible.

"We'll be exploring the time leading up to the 20th Century," the
teacher said. "And then we'll move from there."

Katherine tuned him back out. There was no need to pay attention: 20th
Century History would be the same material as Western Civilization, as
United States History, as World History. Katherine started to play out
the four moves, looking for the advantage. Her eye hurt behind the
numbing cold, her arm hurt from holding the ice pack up. Katherine
could feel the bruise still, trying to swell up, the ache starting
already. Four responses, and she'd stepped right into the blow like a
fool. Twice.



"You know what the worst part about today is?" Katherine asked Lisa.
Lisa sat on the bed with Katherine, paging idly through the sheaf of
first-day handouts. In the background, a CD played.

"What's that?"

Katherine sighed. "Normally after a day like this, I'd call Mike up and
see if he could come over, or I could come over there, and then later,
I'd feel like I was valued, and even if he forgot to compliment me, or
hold me afterwards, I'd have let go of all this tension. Now what?"

Lisa looked over her handouts. "Kat, if you haven't figured this out
yourself, you can always just help yourself."

Katherine waved her off. "It's not the same. It's nice enough, but if
getting laid one way or the other gets me to no stress, then doing it
myself only gets me to half-stress. If that. It's so much better with
someone. Right?"

Lisa put down her handouts. "Sure, Kat. So for chrissake, Kat, go out
and pick up some guy."

"No," Katherine said. "No way. I don't want to think about what I'd
catch in this town."

"Allright, then, I'll help you out."

Katherine started and blinked. "What?"

"One time," Lisa said. "I'll help you get off, because I feel sorry for
you today." Lisa was smiling.

"Are you serious?" Katherine asked.

"Do you seriously need the relief?"

Katherine felt the ache of her deep bruise, the tension on her skin,
the tightness of nipples against the cotton t-shirt, the warmth across
her chest, her thighs.

"Yes," Katherine said. Lisa nodded and got her feet out from under
here. "I do. But I don't..."

"Does it make a difference if it's my hands or some guy's? My mouth or
some guy's?" Lisa shrugged. "It's like it doesn't matter if it's a guy
or a girl giving some guy head, right? Only difference is that we're
just more practical, not as hung up."

Lisa crawled on all fours up the bed. "More adaptable. Now relax,
this'll take no time at all."

"I'm worried," Katherine said, but she lifted her hips off the sheets
at Lisa's touch so her shorts could be slipped off. Lisa laid down on
her side next to Katherine and rubbed Katherine's stomach gently, the
lightest touch.

"It's just between friends," Lisa said, slipping her hand down
Katherine's stomach to her pubic mound. Katherine jumped.

"Relax, just relax," Lisa soothed. She slipped two fingers down along
Katherine's damp lips. "You are dying for this, aren't you? Here." Lisa
pushed both fingers in, curling them back.

"Ah," Katherine said.

"Yeah? Good." Lisa pulled them out, ran the tips of fingers up again,
not touching skin at all, just brushing hairs, and Katherine trembled
under her. Lisa ran a slow circle around the clit, Katherine breathing
hard next to her, and then tweaked it softly and moved down to push
both fingers back in.

"Yes," Katherine said.

"Yeah?" Lisa worked them in and out. They were both well-lubricated
with Katherine's juice, and as Katherine moaned Lisa increased the pace
until, barely a minute later, Katherine bit her lip to stifle a yell
and her whole body jumped once, twice, and then again. Katherine looked
as if she was about to cry or cry out and then released a great sigh of
relief and smiled. Lisa withdrew her fingers and set her hand on
Katherine's stomach.

"You feel better?" Lisa asked.

"Yes."

"More relaxed?"

"Definitely." Katherine turned her head to face Lisa. "You're pretty
good at that."

Lisa smiled. "Plenty of practice with myself." She shifted on the bed.
"Speaking of which, can you help me out now, or..."

Katherine started. "Oh! I... I don't know."

"It's okay," Lisa said, rolling onto her back and pulling her own
shorts down. She put her right hand - the one she'd been using on
Katherine - to her own pussy and started to grind her soft clit against
her palm. Lisa groaned, eyes closed. Katherine watched, still breathing
hard. Lisa's other hand pulled her shirt and bra up, baring her taunt,
apple-like breasts, and then holding onto an erect nipple as she
started to work herself faster.

Katherine leaned over slowly and kissed Lisa's open, tense right
nipple. Lisa moaned and put her hand on Katherine's cheek. Watching
Lisa's fingers work, Kat ran her hand down, her touch not as subtle but
the effect not lost, and Lisa took it and guided it down to take her
own hand's place.

Lisa started to come almost immediately, squeaking into Katherine's
shoulder, trying not to make too much noise. When she'd stopped
squeaking, she put her arm around Katherine and awkwardly hugged her.

"I'm sorry about Mike, Katherine," she said. "I'm sorry about your eye
and your knee and about everything."

"I'm all right," Kat replied.

Lisa stood up, smoothly hopped back into her shorts, pulled her bra
forward and back down, adjusted her shirt, and looked into the full-
length mirror on the door.

"I look okay?"

"You do that before?" Katherine asked, looking at Lisa appraisingly.

"Here's the thing," Lisa said. "I'm lazy. Finding a guy who's not
carrying crabs or something, not a jerk, it's hard, or maybe you're
just between guys -- you can reach an understanding, find a way to get
what you need the other way. It's necessity, like."

"Uh huh." Katherine arched an eyebrow. "So you have, then."

"Yes," Lisa sighed. "But not in a long time." She looked at Katherine,
head to one side, imploringly. "Look, it's just between us, I
understand where you coming from, there's no need to do a lot of soul-
searching and hand-wringing and whatever now, okay? Now what do you
want to do tonight?"

"Something bad," Katherine said.

"Are you on time delay or what?"

"No, I want to steal something."

Lisa's eyes lit up. "You don't say."



Lisa's dad had once told her as he slumped at the dinner table with a
beer in hand that the hardest crimes to solve were the fast ones, where
there's no planning, no prep work, and no one talks before or after --
all there is is the crime, by itself: a missing car, a shot Papa
bleeding on someone's lawn, a store on fire.

Katherine, wearing a baseball cap with her hair tied back, gloves on
both hands, walked up to the back door of Mike's house, tore the screen
door open, the flimsy lock breaking off and dropping onto the step,
twisted. Katherine turned the doorknob and they both were standing
inside the house.

"Nicely done," Lisa said. "Let's hurry."

Katherine jogged down yesterday's manufactured home to Mike's room, to
his bookcase, filled with taped copies of NFL Films and a complete ten-
year archive of Sports Illustrated, filed by date, and stole his good
videos: all the Bruce Lee, all the Jet Li, Jackie Chan, dropped into
Lisa's backpack, and they were back out the door in under a minute,
walking calmly back along the alley.

Lisa started to whistle merrily.

"I think that's pushing it," Katherine said. Lisa stopped.

"Sorry."

They returned to Kat's and dumped the videos out onto the still-a-
little-damp bed, both keeping away from incidental bed-or-each-other
contact, and Kat picked one from the pile. They sat out in the living
room, watching Bruce Lee mess stupid motherfuckers up something good.
Katherine watched intently, her eyes trying to follow Lee's hands.

"I've always wanted to be that quick."

"You are that quick," Lisa said. "I've seen you do that. But mostly you
just stand there and get socked." Lisa started to laugh, and Katherine
socked her in the face with a pillow. Lisa took the pillow away. "So
what are you going to do for training? You going to come back to me and
Mrs. Atin? Study a killing style?"

"No," Katherine said. "I think I'm going to do something different."

"Yeah, what's that?"

"I'm going to see Jack," Katherine said. Lisa made a low whistle.
Katherine smiled. "Oh, yes, that Jack."


-- Jacobin, 7/2000

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