Futa Catfighting Anyone? Lonnie -vs- Denise

Story Codes: f/f, futa, catfight, romance, first, oral, mast, humil, violent

Synopsis: A pair of 14yo girls attending summer camp are scouted for possible membership in Megan's cat-pack.

Megan's Pride

Part One: Lonnie -vs- Denise

Someone kept taking my stuff and I hated that. I didn't want to be at summer camp anyway. Two weeks of mosquito bites, poison ivy, and listening to a bunch of 14 and 15-year-old girls complain wasn't my idea of fun. We were all orphans, from every corner of the state, and each year some rich jerk would foot the bill for about a hundred of us to enjoy the great outdoors. Whoever the guy was, he must have felt pretty guilty about something.

We did all the usual stuff kids do at summer camp. We could use the big lake for swimming or paddle our canoes around. There were classes for arts and crafts, and I'd learned how to make a leather wallet, except it had turned out sort of lopsided. We got to try our hands at archery, which was fun, and fishing, which was not. The nature hikes were okay, but I always found the campfire sing-alongs kind of annoying. I always burned my marshmallows, too.

Living in a tent sucked. None of us owned our own sleeping bags or anything, and the ones we had weren't brand new. Mine smelled sort of funny and I'd get into it wondering who might have used it before me. Probably some bed wetter, I thought. We lived out of our backpacks mostly, or the small suitcases that some of the girls were stupid enough to bring. So anyone could steal anything, which was the biggest reason I hated summer camp.

As soon as I grabbed my flashlight, I knew something was wrong.

"Where's my batteries?" I asked, staring at Marisa.

She just shrugged and I didn't think she'd take them anyway, but our third tent-mate, Denise, would definitely take them. I'd caught her looking through my backpack a couple times, always with some lame excuse about needing to borrow my hairbrush or whatever. Only five days into camp, I'd already lost a brand new bottle of lotion, one of my favorite combs, half of my rubber bands, my silver toe ring, which really made me angry! And now the batteries out of my flashlight.

"Denise!" I found her near one of the fire pits, roasting a hot dog and giggling with a half-dozen other girls.

We were both fourteen, but I'd only known her since arriving at camp. She came from Spokane or someplace boring like that and right away I knew we weren't going to be friends. She had that spoiled blonde brat attitude, arriving all dressed up in brand new clothes that she couldn't ever afford to buy. None of us had a lot of money, but Denise was the sort of girl who liked to pretend and she probably shoplifted everything she owned.

She tried to look better than every