[CATFIGHT] Ultimate Humiliation

Imogen stepped into the living room nervously. It was a fight unlike any other. Most fights in high school involved hair pulling, slapping, and clawing, but this was something else. A catfight with a humiliating twist.

A classmate's parents were out of town for the weekend and had reluctantly agreed to lend their modest living room for this showdown. Just Imogen and Alma, but the whole incident was going to be videoed and played for everyone to see. It was a high-stakes game that would destroy one of their reputations forever.

Imogen knew it well, but she was confident she could beat Alma. After all, Alma wasn't particularly big or tough. The dancer was short but thick. Her thick thighs and the abs underneath her pale skin were built up from years of practice. Her only disadvantage was her size. She had her mousy brown hair tied back into a ponytail, framing her plain but cute features. She wore a red tank top covering up her average breasts and a pair of tight black jean shorts displaying her huge behind and hips of doom. Her green sneakers and her black socks finished her outfit.

The living room itself had seen most of the furniture and belongings moved to one side earlier in the day. Now, there was a black leather sofa and armchair combo, a low wooden table in the middle, and a large counter separating it from the kitchen. Anything that could cause serious injury was gone, leaving the room largely bare. Imogen glanced at the red light of the cameras set up to hit every angle. Even alone, it felt like a crowd was in front of her. No backing out now.

A few seconds later, Alma entered the room from the other door, eliciting a frown from Imogen. The Nordic-French beauty had long, fiery red hair, pale skin, and perfect cheekbones. She didn't have the toned build that Imogen did, but she enjoyed longer limbs and stood a head above Imogen.

Alma wore a long black coat going down to her knees, a simple long-sleeved black shirt covering her ass, high-waisted military green cargo pants with a thin brown belt clasped at the front, with the bottoms tucked into a heavy pair of black punk boots. Imogen noticed them immediately. They could cause some damage.

"Didn't think you'd show up," said a seemingly confident Alma.

"You wish."

Alma stepped forward to the low table, where a deck of cards sat face down. She herself had questioned participating in this. It had all been so sudden. Friday morning, they had gone to class, and by Friday afternoon, the fight was set to take place straight from school. No going home to change. No unfair advantages. They wore what they had put on that morning. It seemed only fair. Things had spiraled out of control quickly, but even though Alma had her doubts on the trip here, but the risk was worth humiliating her rival. Besides, she was going to win, even if it would mean showing a bra or something. Anything more... it wasn't happening.