Thanks to Fawn (https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=34408) for inspiration and great input, and to Britni (https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=63136) for joining in!Fawn started by surveying the room. It was still early, only about 9 pm, but the club was filling up. She hadn’t danced at Delilah’s for long, but the crowds here were pretty much that same as at any place. Solo tables of business men away from home, small groups of bros out with bros, if there was a big group it was usually a bachelor party. Fawn liked the solo men. Her eyes drifted over them; mostly older guys, any of them would probably be good for a little conversation and a table dance or two.
Hello there. The table in the back. A young Latino, and handsome! Don’t believe the stories of strippers actually falling for clients; it’s a business, but within the realm of business, some transactions are more pleasurable than others. Fawn was in white tonight, four inch platform stilettos with ankle straps, thigh-high stockings with a band of lace at the top. Bikini lace panties cut high on her hips. Lace demi-bra that cupped her breasts. A double-strand white pearl choker. White gold hoop earring and bracelets. She cupped her tits and strutted for his table.
His name was Roberto. Fawn always sat in the client’s lap, not in a chair at the table. The lap always told her three things. One, was how handsy he was. Fawn didn’t like the fuckers that tried to touch her pussy as soon as they met her, but the shrinking violets who were afraid to touch her at all were a waste of time. Roberto put his hand on the small of her back immediately, and ran a finger up her spine as they talked. Two, was how much cash he had. Guys kept it in their front pocket in a club, for easy access. Even if this was all singles, he had a huge wad, and when she shifted nicely so he could pull it out to pay for their drinks, she saw hundreds. Definitely paydirt. Three, was how big and hard his cock was. Oh my, Fawn thought.
He was a boxer! Lots of times guys made up shit like that, but with his body she believed it. A local boy, he was now the number one middleweight contender, he said. Good enough that he fought for big money already, and on the cusp of purses in the millions. Fawn unbuttoned his shirt and slipped her hand inside, stroking his chest and his abs, a real six-pack. She pictured him hitting another man, hard, digging, body blows, and it made her wet.
The waitress brought their drinks. She knew Roberto, called him by name. He must be a regular.
“Is he really a boxer?” Fawn asked, partly to tease him.
The waitress nodded. “A good one,” she said. “Britni will be out soon.” Fawn didn’t know what that meant, but Roberto nodded.
Fawn sipped her drink and put her lips next to his ear. “Want a dance?” she breathed.
Roberto hesitated for a beat, which made her raise an eyebrow. What the fuck, he thought. She was new here, and she was a hot, tight Asian doll. It wasn’t like Britni owned him. Table dances were $40 and topless only, but she made it worth it. First she unbuttoned his shirt entirely, dragging her long jet black hair over his nipples before going to her knees between his legs. She unclasped her bra and pinched her small brown nipples into red alert status. She ground and spun on him and as the song wound down she moved her body to block the bouncer’s view and took his cock out for a short, soft stroke, before slipping it back.
Normally, she’d suggest another table dance. But his wad of cash and his rock-hard cock made her recalculate. Straddling him in his chair now, lips to his ear again.
“Oh baby, I want you to touch me,” Fawn whispered. “We can do that, in the back . . . take me to the Champagne Room, Roberto, please? You won’t be sorry.” She dug her nails into his chest and pressed her pussy down on his cock, rocking her hips just a little.
He hesitated again, but men are weak. Women like Fawn know that.
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“Roberto’s here tonight,” Kelly said as she passed through the dressing room.
Britni smiled in the mirror as she did her eyes.
“That boy is fine,” said one of the other girls, across the room. “I love his arms.” Britni did too. He was one of her regulars, probably her favorite one. He was generous with his cash and he had learned her body. Sometime when she was on his lap, it felt like he was the one giving her a dance. And once they got to the champagne room . . . her nipples stiffened at the thought of it. An hour with him flew by. Sometimes he paid for a second hour, too.
Britni finished her lips, a clear gloss. She liked the shine but didn’t need a flashy color. Her nails were more understated than a lot of the girls, too. She liked a simple natural pink and a medium length. She did like to keep them pointed, though. Sexy. She was wearing red tonight, elaborately lacy lingerie with more strap than substance. The tiny triangles of the bra barely covered her nipples, and her bikini panties were a fraction wider than her pussy mound. Stocking and heels. She was ready.
Britni had a body that turned heads, even in a strip club of gorgeous women. She had lush breasts and hips, incredible curves. She put on her runway strut and turned the corner to the main room of the club, her eyes going straight to Roberto’s usual table. Empty.
Her smile slipped to a frown, but he was probably just in the john. She stopped at the bar, checking out the rest of the room. “Kelly said Roberto was here,” she said to the bartender, Dave. He nodded. “Yeah, in the back.”
The back was the VIP rooms. “What?” Britni said. Her voice was a little sharp. “In the back,” Dave repeated. “He went with Fawn.”
“Who the fuck is Fawn?” Britni’s voice was a knife now.
Dave seemed only now to realize he had stepped out in a minefield
“New girl,” he said, suddenly busy.
Un huh, Britni thought. Fucking new girl? Not with her Roberto. She whirled away from the bar, long brown hair whipping.
Fawn hadn’t learned the VIP rooms hostess name yet, but she gave her a big smile despite the strange look the bitch gave her when she led Roberto in. He peeled off the $500 for the hour and $200 for the bottle, and tipped the hostess well, too. The bouncer was Donovan. Fawn did know him; you always got to know the bouncers. They either thought they could fuck you or they treated you like a little sister - Donovan was one of the good ones. Even he looked surprised to see her there.
Dim lights, music, the bottle in its silver ice bucket, some strawberries. Mmmmmmmmm. Fawn pushed Roberto down onto the loveseat, and pulled his belt free of all its loops. She swivelled her hips and mounted his lap, unbuttoning his shirt. She pushed it open and ran her nails over his muscles. She handed him his glass and they toasted. She leaned over him and let a little bubbly drip from her lips onto his chest, then bit a strawberry in half and ran it bleeding over the top curves of her breasts. She let him lick it off as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra.
“What the fuck, bitch!”
Britni was in the room, Donovan looking panicked behind her. She was in a rage, her chest heaving, her nipples stabbing through her bra. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!”
Fawn recognized her. The big-tittied brunette girl, one of the club queen bees.
Britni crossed her room in runway strides, her legs flashing, and buried her hands in Fawn’s thick black hair. “Try to steal my fucking clients, whore?!” She dragged Fawn off Roberto’s lap, stumbling against the low table.
“What the hell, bitch!” Fawn shrieked. Almost without thinking, she slapped Britni, hard. Britni’s eyes went big. She drew back her hand. Then Donovan was between them, pushing them apart.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” Britni said to Fawn.
Fawn was calculating. She understood now what was going on, why she’d gotten all the weird looks. She also understood that if she backed down, she’d be Britni’s bitch as long as she worked here.
“Fuck you, cxnt,” she said.
Donovan tightened his grips on their biceps and looked at the door.
“Wait,” said Roberto.
He was breathing hard. Both women saw the bulge in his pants as he stood up. He pulled a thick wad of cash from his front pocket, and swiftly thumbed off ten hundreds. He slid those into Donovan’s shirt pocket.
“Appreciate it if you’d stand the door, bro,” he said. “Fine to stay on this side if you want.” Donovan’s cock was getting hard too. Was it worth it? Yes it was. He let go of the two women and walked back to the door. He clicked the lock and leaned back against it.
“Britni, this is Fawn. Fawn, this is Britni,” Roberto said. His voice was even.
“I don’t give a fuck what her name is,” Britni said.
Roberto looked at her, and at Fawn. They were about the same size. Fawn was a little taller but Britni was maybe five pounds heavier. Most of that was in her 34D breasts. Fawn had perfectly round 34Cs but in this one regard Britni had an advantage.
Roberto kicked off his shoes, and undid his pants. He pushed them down and then sat back in the loveseat, and picked up his champagne flute. He could’ve been a Michaelangelo sculpture. His upper body was chiseled. His cock might as well have been carved from stone too. He tipped his glass at the cash on the table.
“There’s about twenty K there.” He took a sip. “Winner take all,” he said to the two women.
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They both stared at him for a long beat. Then Britni grinned. “Perfect,” she said. She lashed the back of her hand across Fawn’s mouth, whipping her head to the side.
Fawn stumbled and fell to her knees, her lips stinging. Britni came after her. With her status as club queen and a fuckload of cash on the line, she was all-in. She saw it all, in her mind’s eye. Beat the fuck out of this Asian bitch. Strip her naked. Make her watch as she took Roberto. Maybe parade her on her knees in the dressing room for the other girls to see. She kicked Fawn in the ribs, hard. Fawn’s body buckled, her hair in her face. The way she moaned made Roberto’s cock throb.
Fury bubbled up in Fawn. Fuck, she’d done nothing wrong! This cxnt thought she’d curl up and beg, Fawn could tell. Well, fuck that. Britni kicked her again, low in her belly this time. It hurt, so bad, but Fawn trapped her foot. The long heel and platform gave her a lever to turn. Britni hopped on one foot as Fawn twisted her ankle, bent her knee. In stripper shoes, balancing on one foot doesn’t last long. Britni toppled, her back hitting the low table hard.
Fawn was on her in a flash, body to body, grinding her tits into Britni’s. “Not that easy, bitch,” she snarled. Britni’s tits were bigger but she was hurting them. Britni ripped at one of Fawn’s stockings, wrenched at the back strap of her bra. That pulled the half-cups deep into Fawn’s breasts, her hard little brown nipples popping over the edge, pointing down as the bottom hemispheres of her breasts were squashed. Now Britni had her nails in her ass, and her bra stretched to the ripping point. Fawn sobbed in pain, and that heave was the straw that broke her lingerie clasp. The sudden release slammed her tits back into Britni’s. Despite her own pain, Fawn tingled at the way Britni moaned. Then Britnil twisted, and threw her off, into Roberto’s legs. Her bra slid down her arms; she snatched it off before she was trapped in it.
Both girls got to their knees and clashed again. Fawn attacked Britni’s breasts with her nails, scooping both of them up and out of the tiny red bra that barely held them. She let go long enough to jerk one of the red shoulder straps down Britni’s bicep. Britni had one hand in Fawn’s hair and the other dug in her ass again, clawing deep into the muscle. Her head dragged back, Fawn screamed and blindly raked Britni’s dark nipples, feeling the erect nubs in the center catch her nails for a split-second. It was Britni’s turn to scream. She twisted away, with her bra halfway down her waist. Fawn broke its clasp and tore it off.
Both topless now, they got to their feet, facing off. Roberto leaned in, shoved the low table to the side to clear space for them. Donovan had abandoned the door, hovering closer now. Both women were breathing hard, chests heaving.
“Thought you’d steal him, bitch?” said Britni. “You can’t match me.”
“He was willing,” Fawn shot back. “His cock was like that before you showed up.”
Britni’s lips pulled back from her teeth. She was pissed before but this cxnt was pushing her into dark rage. She rolled her shoulders back. “Fight my tits, little girl,” she said. She laughed when Fawn hesitated. “Scared?” Britni taunted. Fawn arched her back with a snarl and they slammed together.
“Oh fuuuuck!” Fawn moaned. It was like two boxing gloves, two hard-packed sandbags, hitting her tits. Britni’s nipples drove her nipples back deep into her boobs. She lunged into Fawn again, and again until Fawn’s back hit the wall and Britni’s tits flattened hers. Roberto admired Britni’s fine round ass as she braced her legs and ground into the Asian. Fawn felt hot tears of pain spill from her squeezed-shut eyes.
“I’ll fucking finish you right here,” Britni said. “You can’t take it, girl.”
I have to, Fawn thought.
She shot her knee up into Britni’s pussy, one, two, three times, quick and hard. She felt each impact ripple through Britni’s body and into her own crushed breasts. Incredibly, Britni sobbed in pain but kept the pressure pinning Fawn to the wall.
“When I finish your tits I’ll bust your pussy for that,” Britni moaned.
Fourth time’s the charm. Britni’s knees buckled. Fawn twisted out from under her, and wrenched Britni’s hand up between her shoulder blades as she fell forward into the wall. “Maybe I’ll finish your tits,” Fawn said, “Ever think of that?!” She pounded her knee into Britni’s back, smashing her breasts against the wall, then the back of her head, driving her face into the wall. Britni’s nose came away streaming blood.
“Oh fuck,” Donovan said from the edges. “It’s real now.”
Britni pushed off the wall with a scream of rage. She hit Fawn in the mouth with her elbow as she spun and then a hard chopping punch in her breast. With another scream she lifted Fawn in a bearhug around her hips. Roberto yanked the ice bucket and bottle off the table just in time, before Britni body slammed Fawn across it.
All the air in Fawn’s body exploded out of her. She lay across the table, her head off the edge and lolling back, her long jet hair across Roberto’s foot. Britni tore Fawn’s panties off of her hips and down her legs. Fawn could do nothing to stop her. Britni curled her hand into a claw and sunk her nails into Fawn’s smoothly waxed pussy. Fawn shuddered, and could do nothing to stop her. Britni wiped her bloody nose and smeared it across the lower curve of Fawn’s belly, and spit on her tits.
“This bitch is done,” she said to the room. She swung her hair to her back, and knelt between Roberto’s knees. He groaned as her mouth slipped over the head of his cock. Every boy or man Britni had been with had told her the same thing: she gave amazing head.
Fawn’s head dangled on the other side of Roberto’s leg. She managed to draw her first bit of air as he groaned again. As her eyes focused, looking up under his thigh, she saw Britni’s head bobbing up and down on his cock. It made her suddenly, center-of-the-sun-hot furious. Air in her lungs again, she launched herself up, pushing through the pain in her back and her mauled pussy. She caught Britni’s hair as she swirled her tongue around the tip of Roberto’s cock and jerked her head back, the two of them spilling to the floor.
Roberto and Donovan looked at each other. “Fucking near miss, man,” said Donovan. “Good thing she didn’t have you deep right then.” Roberto blew air out his mouth.
The two women were screaming now. Fawn was trying to rip Britni’s panties, and had pulled them deep between her pussy lips, sawing the lace into her swollen clit. Britni had ten fingernails in Fawn’s breasts and was trying her best to drive them all the way in to meet in the center. It was a savage stalemate, both women in agony. Then Britni’s panties tore through. That sudden relief lasted just long enough for Fawn to claw Britni the same way Britni had done her.
“Oh goddddddddddd you fucking whore!!” screamed Britni. She let go of Fawn’s tits and punched wildly at her face. Her fist split Fawn’s upper lip. Fawn tasted blood on her teeth. She pulled Britni’s ruined panties aside and stabbed two fingers deep into her spread pussy.
“Fuck,” breathed Roberto. For $20K, he planned to fuck the winner, but would either of these girls have a functioning pussy when this was over?
They shoved apart and got to their feet. The lingerie was gone. Only stockings and heels remained, and Fawn’s pearls. Teeth bared, they clashed again, shoes digging into the carpet. Britni’s left hand clamped down on Fawn’s right breast, fingers digging in right behind her bulging nipple. Her right fist pumped into Fawn’s lower ribs. Fawn attacked both of Britni’s tits, spreading them out across her biceps, stretching her nipples. They staggered across the small room. Fawn shook Britni’s tits, her thumbnails digging into the roots of her hard brown tips.
“Oh you fucking cxnt,” Britni moaned. She stomped down on Fawn’s foot. Her heavy heel was a fearsome weapon. Fawn screamed as the thick plastic platform crunched into the top arch of her foot. She wobbled and Britni threw her to the floor. She rained kicks into Fawn’s thigh, then planted her foot in her belly and lifted one of her lovely legs to point straight up. Dancers are flexible, of course, so this didn’t hurt Fawn’s leg much; Britni using the heel of her shoe to torque her ankle and knee, however, hurt an incredible amount. Fawn shrieked, and beat at the floor in helpless anguish. She loved her shoes, but sobbed in relief when the strap buckle broke and it came off in Britni’s hands.
Then Britni dropped onto her and used the shoe like a hammer. She pounded the heel into Fawn’s breast, again and again, and then went for the dazed woman’s other foot. A few seconds later, Fawn was barefoot, with two stilettos stabbed deep into her tits. Oh god this is torture, Fawn thought, when the other girl twisted them sadistically. Fawn stared up into Britni’s hate-filled eyes. “Your pussy’s next,” Britni said.
She tossed one shoe away and dragged Fawn to the low table, intending to display her there for Roberto as she finished her. Desperately, Fawn lunged sideways into Britni’s knees, flinging her off her feet. Britni landed hard on her stomach. In a flash, Fawn had first one, then the other, of her rival’s legs folded, her ankles crossed, her feet pinned up against her ass. Straddling her shins, she jerked back Britni’s head by her hair, just to hurt her more. With her free hand, she undid the ankle straps of Britni’s shoes. “These are mine now, bitch,” she told her. “You want to talk heels up holes? One of yours is right here.” She dragged one shoe heel between Britni’s ass cheeks.
Britni screamed and flailed wildly, breaking loose. Fawn lost her grip on her new prizes as she was thrown off. Britni’s stocking-clad foot whipped around, and hit her in the side of her neck. On her side, Fawn kicked back, her heel hitting Britni’s cheekbone, knocking her sprawling on her back. They both lay still for a second, gasping for air.
Fawn scooted to Britni, snaked her legs around her torso, scissoring her right across her tits. From Roberto’s viewpoint, he was looking at Fawn’s back and ass, loving her muscles as she flexed hard, her strong dancer’s legs closing on Britni’s chest like a vise. She pinned Britni’s closest arm to the floor, and poured on the pressure. Britni jerked, her eyes closed. She couldn’t breathe, Fawn could tell. She squeezed harder. With her far hand, Britni tore at Fawn’s stocking, ripping the top leg from thigh to ankle, then clawing her bare skin. She tried to pry Fawn’s ankles apart, and couldn’t.
“You like this, bitch?” Fawn gasped. “Your fat tits crushed? Huh?”
With a huge effort, Britni turned in the vise. It hurt her tits unbearably, but taking the force in her ribs rather than her sternum let her breathe, a little. And now she could reach Fawn. Expecting a claw in her tits or face, Fawn was surprised when Britni’s hand shot to her throat, and closed around her pearl choker.
Choker, indeed. All Britni had to do was twist her grip. Double rows of pearls tightened on Fawn’s throat. The plastic line holding them was practically unbreakable. So was Britni’s grip. Fawn’s face was as red as Britni’s ruined lingerie in seconds. Her scissors weakened. The more Britni could breathe, the harder she twisted the necklace. Fawn saw pinpoints of light in her vision.
The clasp on the necklace was the weak link, of course. It snapped, and pearls scattered across Fawn’s chest and bounced away. Fawn sucked in a deep lungful of air. The killing scissors were lost, though. Britni was on her, spreading her legs wide now, mounting her.
Britni was lost in a black rage now. She lifted her hips and slammed her pelvis down into Fawn’s, her hands on the Asian woman’s knees keeping her on her back in a near side split.
“Oh fuck!” Fawn gasped.
“That’s right, bitch,” Britni spat. “Take it. Take my pussy beating yours to pulp.” She smacked her clit into Fawn’s. Fawn clenched her teeth and from the bottom answered, punching her hips up.
“Jeeeesus,” Donovan said. He couldn’t stand it any longer. He took his cock out, stroking it hard. Britni pounded Fawn again, loving her sob of pain. Donovan groaned. Fawn thrust back, Britni’s hair whipping as the impact shook her. Britni barely felt the hot stream of cum across her ass as she hammered down again.
“Damn, man,” said Roberto. Donovan grinned, sheepishly.
Fawn knew she couldn’t win a pussy-smashing contest from the bottom, though. With Britni’s hands spreading her legs, the bitch’s tits were literally low-hanging fruit. Fawn came at them from their undersides, crushing them and at the same time pushing them as far up into Britni’s face as she could. She jarred Britni loose from her dominant position and rolled her, still mauling her boobs. Britni howled in pain and swung up, clubbing Fawn in the side of her head. Fawn took it, and bore down harder still, all her upper body weight over her claws. Britni’s tits were in burning agony now.
“Give up, cxnt,” Fawn said. “I won’t stop, but I want to hear you beg.”
“Never,” Britni gasped. Her grasping hand had found a shoe, and she slammed it up into Fawn’s face. Roberto watched as Fawn pitched bonelessly sideways, going in the space of a second from the verge of wrecking her opponent’s tits to nearly unconscious from three inches of heavy platform plastic colliding with her head.
Britni lay still, cradling her battered tits, breathing in harsh gasps. After a minute, she rolled toward Fawn. She wiped the rest of Donovan’s cum off her ass and smeared it on Fawn’s hair, then planted her knee on her neck and went to work ripping her white stockings off.
Roberto poured himself some more champagne, and sat back as Britni slung Fawn, now totally nude, on her back across the low table and straddled her, pinning her arms to her sides. Britni touched the bruise on Fawn’s cheekbone where she’d hit her with the shoe, the swelling under one of her slightly almond-shaped eyes. Fawn glared back up at her.
“That must’ve hurt,” Britni said, and drove her fist into the spot. Fawn’s head whipped to the side. Britni backhanded her, lashing her face back the other way.
“You thought you’d come in here,” Britni said. “Into this club, and do whatever the fuck you wanted, didn’t you.” She cupped her breasts, as much for Roberto’s benefit as anything. “You thought you could beat my tits? I’m going to smash your fucking face, while he fucking watches me, until you are out fucking cold. When you finally crawl out of here tonight, you’ll being crawling as my fucking bitch. Do you hear me?”
Fawn lay still, defiantly silent. Britni gripped her right breast with her left hand, hard. Fawn clenched her teeth. Britni pulled her right fist back. “You fucking cxnt,” she snarled, and swung. Fawn had to take the punch, and it felt like it broke her face, but at the split-second when Britni’s weight and momentum shifted the farthest left, Fawn twisted and bridged as hard as she could. Britni nearly toppled off - nearly. She kept her perch, breaking into a triumphant grin.
But Fawn had pulled her left arm free. As Britni caught her balance and shifted back, she shifted right into Fawn’s fingers stabbing into her pussy.
“Not your bitch,” Fawn spat, and dug in.
Britni shrieked and flung herself away, tumbling off of the table. Fawn rolled the other way, happy to put space and furniture between them. Roberto listened to their harsh panting, and sipped his champagne. Shrieking curses at each other, they clashed across the table, both kneeling on it, locked together, their tits grinding. Fawn clawed at Britni’s ass and thighs, ripping her stockings, trying to use them as leverage to pull the other woman’s legs out from under her. Britni dug her nails into Fawn’s back and scratched long red furrows in her skin from shoulder blades to ass.
Fawn’s stocking attack worked; she slowly pulled Britni’s left leg back, unbalancing her. She pushed her tits deeper into her opponent’s bigger ones. Britni’s hips sank as her legs widened. Her stocking ripped, suddenly, almost its full length. Fawn went for the other one, tore it too. She burned to strip Britni as naked as she was. Britni’s body buckled, and they both spilled to the floor again, but Fawn rolled free with two torn lengths of red. She kept one.
On their knees, Britni lunged at Fawn, nails aimed at her eyes. She ran right into her stocking, throat-high. Fawn wrapped it, twisted it, swung around to Britni’s back, and pulled. She had her knee up in Britni’s back, arching her spine as she choked her. Britni’s bruised and battered tits bounced wildly as she fought to free herself, but Fawn had her. She smiled wolfishly, bloodied lips curled, and strangled the bitch. Over Britni’s shoulder, she watched Roberto. His cock was throbbing now, a thick drop of early cum glistening at its tip.
Fawn wanted to see what he saw - the fire dying in Britni’s eyes. Still twisting the stocking, she made it to her feet, pulling Britni up too, and turned her to face her. Britni’s lips were bluish, even under her pale lipstick. Her eyes were dull, half closed. She couldn’t pull away. Fawn was too strong. Her air was almost gone. Fawn’s grin spread. “You’re my bitch,” she said,
But there was one direction that Fawn didn’t expect, didn’t control. Britni closed her eyes and drove her head forward, into Fawn’s face.
Fawn’s head snapped back as if she’d been shot, her black hair whipping in a wild spray. She staggered, two short unbalanced steps, and fell hard on her back. Britni sank to her knees as she unwound the stocking from her throat, sucking in deep gasps of air, her chest and stomach heaving. After a minute, Fawn rolled to her side, then her hands and knees, then her knees.
Neither woman had the strength to stand. They’d finish this on their knees.
Britni curled her hands into claws. Her dark hair was matted to her face with sweat. Her big tits had taken the worst of that part of their fight, now thick with fist- and finger-bruises. Fawn’s tits were nearly as bad. Her lip bled, and the mark under her eye where Britni had hammered her with a shoe and then her forehead was swelling.
“More stakes,” Britni gasped. This was about much more than money now; she wanted more, she wanted to humiliate Fawn forever. “Donovan carries the loser to the center stage. Winner displays her, in front of the entire club. I want every fucking customer in here to see how I beat you, bitch. I’ll be a fucking legend. Then back here. Roberto fucks the winner - oh baby my pussy wants you so bad! - and Donovan gets the loser’s ass.”
Fawn didn’t hesitate. She was all in. Donovan thought he’d lose his fucking job, for sure, but fuck man, of course he loved the idea.
They clashed, hands in hair, tits ramming together, asses flexed hard.
Britni drove her elbow down into the spot where Fawn’s shoulder sloped up to her neck, her trapezius muscle, and then her collarbone.
Fawn punched low in Britni’s guts, hitting her ovaries, then her pussy, her center knuckle crushing her clit against her pubic bone.
Britni battered Fawn’s tits, her fists flattening them over and over, her nails stabbing into her nipples.
Fawn dragged Britni to the floor, scissored her waist from behind, and reached around to claw her tits, dragging them to her armpits.
Britni jerked Fawn’s head forward over her shoulder, straining her neck, and at the same time got her other hand behind her, between Fawn’s scissoring thighs, and raked her pussy.
They broke apart, and clashed again.
At last, one brunette bent the other back over the low table, next to the champagne bucket, cold and wet with condensation, and hit her in the face, over and over, until she was still. Every punch sent a metallic hum through the bucket, the icy water in it vibrating.
Roberto caught Fawn’s wrist as she drew her fist back again. “Enough,” he said. She strained against him for a minute, her eyes wild, then relaxed. She sat back, sobbing in relief.
The victory tour only took two minutes. Fawn took her phone. Donovan carried unconscious Britni past the bar. The circulating girls and the other bouncers went rigid - what the fuck? - and the customers’ heads swiveled. Was this an act? Fawn gave him her phone, set to video. This is what she showed Roberto a few minutes later, what got leaked of course to the internet, with millions of views over time.
Britni lay on her side on the center stage where Donovan had deposited her, her dark hair spread across the polished floor. Fawn sat on the stage edge then swung her legs up smoothly. She stood over Britni, put her foot on the side of her head, her hip cocked. The DJ cut the music. The dancer who had been on stage disappeared to the side of the frame.
“This bitch thought she could bully me,” Fawn shouted. “She thought she was the fucking Queen of the Club!” She bent, and lifted Britni’s face from the floor by her hair, high enough to display her beaten tits and belly, the blood on her face obvious. There were gasps from the crowd, mostly the other girls, and flashes from dozens of phones.
“This is what I do to bitches that fuck with me!” Fawn shrieked, and one final time she slammed Britni’s head down, this time on the glittering stage. She turned and walked away without a glance back.
Donovan was only a moment behind with Britni in his arms, but by the time the VIP room door closed again against the pandemonium from the main room, Fawn was already in Roberto’s lap, showing him the video, as his cock sank into her. Her entire body trembled. Her first orgasm hit her in less than a minute.
One of her ripped stockings and the champagne bucket were in reach. Fawn motioned - she couldn’t talk - for Donovan to put Britni face down on the couch next to them, her knees on the floor. She wrapped the stocking around Britni’s neck, and poured the ice water from the bucket over the side of her face. Some ran under Roberto’s bare ass, but nothing was going to stop him now, not that, not the pounding on the door that Donovan had locked.
Britni’s eyes fluttered open. She sputtered, spraying cold water from battered lips.
“You need to be awake for this, whore,” Fawn said, holding the stocking like holding a leash on a dog, close to its collar. Britni moaned as Donovan’s cock drove into her.
Now Fawn focused on Roberto, and his endurance failed under her attack. She milked a massive volcano of cum from his balls, her pussy squeezing his cock in ripples as she came again too.
It all ended up costing Roberto even more, as the club management had to be mollified. It was worth it.
Donovan was fired, but immediately hired by Roberto. He was in the corner entourage when Roberto became champion three months later.
Britni never worked at the club again.
Fawn was the other undisputed champion now; Queen of the Club. Roberto came in, maybe twice a month. No other dancer dared go near him as he waited patiently for Fawn. She was a fucking legend.
