One week after the embarrassing defeat suffered at the hands of her archenemy Veronique, Betsy left town, her small Subaru station wagon laden down with all her earthly possessions. Although she received a lot of support and sympathy from friends after the fight, the devastated blonde knew that she would find it impossible to hold her head up in public again, let alone stay in a town where copies of the humiliating webcast were still doing a roaring trade. Although Betsy could not bear to watch the recorded version of the fight, she was under no illusion that it laid bare not just her physical subjugation by Veronique but also the unforgettable sight of the dark-haired bitch masturbating repeatedly in her face as Betsy lay writhing helplessly on the mat, still trying to massage the numbing pain out of her pounded pussy. So, biting back the tears, Betsy said goodbye to the town she had grown up in and left to start a new life in a different city more than 100 miles away. Being as practical and resourceful as ever, within a few months she was enrolled at a new college and making ends meet once again by working tables in a local restaurant. She also met and started dating a great guy called Greg who helped her get over the Artie thing pretty quickly. Although she knew it would take a long time to recover her pride, Betsy was even more troubled by the strong and as yet unresolved feelings that had been woken deep inside her while grappling intimately with her enemy and love rival. Despite immersing herself once more in her studies, Betsy found that no amount of hard work--or hard liquor for that matter--could erase the vivid recollection of her defeat at Veronique's hands. In her dreams late at night, the beautiful blonde relived the humiliating minutes spent with her head wedged between her vanquisher's strong thighs...the feeling of razor stubble and pubic hair bristling against her face…the smell of raw female essence…the desperate sensation of gagging for air, being smothered by wet crotch, until the rich bitch finally flooded Betsy's face with her juices as she shuddered to a panting climax. Waking up sweating and finding her crotch warm and moist, Betsy would masturbate while fantasizing about how she would defeat Veronique next time. For the gorgeous blonde knew deep inside that her destiny and that of Veronique were inextricably linked, and that one day the two rivals would be thrown together again by fate and have to settle their differences once more. Given the intimate nature of their last contest, Betsy was in no doubt that next time the struggle would be deeper, more primal, and all the more deadly as both women strove to establish once and for all who was dominant between them, both physically and sexually.