Here's another of the old Society stories from back in early 2013.
Enjoy...
Scrib
*****
Tiffany drifted through the crowd in her usual section of the expansive penthouse living room – the far corner from the door, close to the windows that offered spectacular, sweeping views of downtown Manhattan and the East River. She nursed a glass of seltzer, foregoing anything stronger because she would need all her faculties, a short while from now. Tonight, she was fighting.
She was nervous but excited. It had been too long, and she missed it – missed the thrill of feeling her body straining against another woman, in a test of strength, endurance and sheer determination. Most of the fights in this room came down to that – who was the most determined to win. If they didn’t have supreme strength and endurance – if they weren’t the best of the best – they never got here in the first place. This was the Society, the most secretive and exclusive catfight club in the country.
Along with her invitation to the gathering tonight, mailed as always on expensive stationery in a scarlet envelope, there had been a brief handwritten note from Michael, the host of the Society’s parties and one of the mysterious committee who oversaw its operations. Tiffany had never met any of the other committee members, though she suspected who some of them were.
Michael’s note had said that she was to fight tonight, but not who she was to fight, only that it would be a visiting fighter from a sister organization in Paris, and that the woman was the perfect opponent for her. Tiffany had raised an eyebrow when she read that, wondering just what he meant, but then she had shrugged. She trusted Michael, and her own abilities. She had been training hard both before and after the invitation, and she was in the best shape she could possibly be.
As she scanned the room, not for the first time that night, she wondered who her opponent might be. All of the women in the room were familiar except one, and she was and older woman who might have been a catfighter in her time, but was certainly no match for Tiffany now. Michael was talking with several couples who Tiffany knew by sight from previous gatherings.
Turning, she checked her reflection in the window nearby. She had taken great pains with her appearance tonight, as she always did, and the results had been well worthwhile. Her black satin dress clung to her lithe body, the skirt sweeping down to her ankles above matching ankle-strap sandals with four-inch heels. The skirt was slit high on both sides, showing off the golden-tanned skin of her shapely but muscular legs to mid-thigh. The clinging bodice hugged her buxom chest, held up by a single sturdy strap over her left shoulder, exposing the powerful yet feminine curves of her arms and shoulders. Perhaps the most noteworthy aspect of the dress however – and the reason she had bought it – was the large wrap-around cut-out below her bust, which revealed her entire right side down to her hip, much of her back and the smoothly sculpted lines of her abs. It was an outfit that displayed her body to perfection, and that was her intent. Intimidation certainly played a part in these encounters, and she knew it.
She wore her dark brown hair down tonight, and it fell past her shoulders. Her makeup was flawless, large brown eyes catching and engaging the observer, cherry red lipstick accentuating her olive complexion. She wore diamond earrings and a gold circlet necklace at her throat with a matching diamond pendant.
Her efforts had certainly paid of – admiring glances followed her wherever she went in the room. She smiled to herself. Wait until this French bitch took a look at her, and quailed.
She noticed one of the black-garbed attendants approach Michael and whisper something in his ear. He excused himself from his companions and slipped through the crowd, across the room toward the door. Her interest piqued, Tiffany followed at a distance, eager to get a first look at her opponent for tonight.
The room was full of people and she had to make quite a circuitous route, picking her way between clusters of partygoers, until she finally approached the entrance from a different angle. Michael was talking to a man and a woman, but they had their backs to Tiffany and she could not see the woman’s face, only the back of her bob-cut, platinum blonde hair, and broad shoulders in a pink cashmere top.
It was the man who seemed more familiar to Tiffany, even from behind. He was tall, with dark curly hair, and she got the feeling that she had seen him before. She frowned. He reminded her of…no…it couldn’t be! She pushed her way through the crowd and approached the couple from the rear. “Gil?”
He turned at the sound of her voice, and smiled. “Tiffany!” His eyes lit up, but somehow didn’t display the same sense of surprise that she felt. He paused a moment, drinking in the sight of her. “It’s…good to see you.” There was a hint in his expression that he wanted to say something else – something more – but had settled for ‘good’.
Tiffany’s own smile was less enthusiastic but she nevertheless responded with a cordial, “Likewise.” A flood of memories came rushing back into her mind – feelings she had suppressed for a long time. She had once loved this man – deeply – until he had betrayed her with – she turned her eyes to the woman who stood beside him, her arm looped through his. Her smile vanished. Her eyes went cold. “Sofia.”
Sofia smiled. “Tiffany. It’s been a long time.” Her voice had the same lilting French accent that she remembered so well – and hated so much.
“Three years.” Three years in which she had reinvented herself, picked up what was left of her life and made something of it. She rarely thought of that dark time in her life, when she had literally had to claw her way up from the gutter. She had been sleeping on a friend’s couch when she saw that ad for an amateur catfight tournament in a seedy bar in Liberty City. Gil had often talked about his fetish for women fighting, and how he’d love to see Tiffany struggle for dominance against another sexy woman. She had laughed and teased him, saying maybe one day. She had never dreamed, until that moment, that she might have to do so, just to feed herself.
She had entered that tournament and won. That win had started her on the journey that had led her here, after years of struggle, winning and also sometimes losing as she moved up from the amateur to the professional circuit, and rose through the ranks.
Now, tonight, she felt as though she had come full circle again, standing her facing this woman. The last time they had seen one another, Sofia had been standing in the doorway to the bedroom – Tiffany’s and Gil’s bedroom! – in a black satin robe, with Gil sprawled naked and erect on the bed behind her. Tiffany had walked in on them just as they had been about to fuck. She clenched her fists at the memory.
The bitch hadn’t even had the grace to be embarrassed. On the contrary, she had been proud of herself. She had even invited Tiffany to join them. Tiffany remembered looking from Sofia to Gil at that moment, and seeing the lust in his eyes. She had snarled “bastard!” as she turned on her heel and walked out of his house – out of his life. Until now.
She dragged herself back to the present and glared at Sofia. The French woman had cut her hair shorter. It had been longer and curly when Tiffany had last seen her. That was why she hadn’t recognized her. Her eyes roved down over Sofia’s body. She was maybe an inch taller than Tiffany, but it was hard to tell in heels. Her hot pink cashmere sweater hugged her arms to just below the elbows. The neckline was cut broad at the top to reveal powerful shoulders, and plunged low in front to reveal the deep cleft between her breasts, which were at least as large, full and rounded as Tiffany’s own – perhaps more so. The sweater clung to them like a second skin. She wore a black satin skirt, a fabric that was particularly unforgiving to the figure but the shining material fell smooth and unruffled over her flat belly, with no hint of fat beneath. She held one foot out to the side, revealing a muscular but sensuous expanse of thigh through the slit in her skirt. Sofia was certainly imposing. Tiffany’s eyes met hers once more. “So here we are again.”
Sofia smiled. “And tonight we finally get to face each other. I’ve wanted this for a very long time.”
The penny dropped – the visiting fighter from France was Sofia! It all came back to her in a rush. Gil’s catfight fetish, Sofia being there just as she returned home from a short trip to visit family, the lust in his eyes as he had looked from her to Sofia and back again – and now she learned that Sofia was a fighter, one of the best in Europe if she was standing here. It had never occurred to her until now that Gil might have orchestrated that whole thing, that terrible night. And here she stood, facing Sofia again – but it had been years! She whipped her head around to stare into his face, and saw the truth. Her anger flared. “You bastard, you set this up!”
He smiled, a hint of embarrassment on his face – but no more than a hint. “Sofia and I have always wanted it. Ever since…” his voice dwindled to silence and he grinned at Sofia. “Always.”
“And tonight it will happen,” purred Sofia. “The Queen of France, versus…” she looked Tiffany up and down, and smiled, “against the American kitten. Tonight you get to taste my pussy at last, after I beat you in front of all these people.”
Tiffany’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t bet on it, bitch! Do you think I just walked in here off the street? I fought my here, and I beat women who would destroy you!” She thrust her head forward aggressively as she continued, “I GET OFF on winning, you slut, and I am SO gonna get off on beating you…humiliating you…cumming on your face in front of him!” She jerked her head at Gil. “He’ll…” She glanced sideways at him, and again his eyes betrayed his emotions. He would not be at all disappointed if she defeated Sofia. Maybe that had been his fantasy, the whole time. As her eyes flicked back to Sofia’s face, she caught the blonde staring at him. Sofia had seen it too.
Their eyes met again. Sofia’s smile fell far short of her eyes. “I also get off on winning…on defeating and humiliating another strong woman…and believe me, I get off A LOT.” She paused to that sink in. Tiffany stared back at her, unfazed. “You want to cum on my face? I think it will be doing that to you. But…one of us is wrong…only one of us will get that satisfaction tonight. For the other…”
Michael interrupted, dispelling the mounting tension. “Well, perhaps it’s time we found out,” he said with a smile at both of them. “Fifteen minutes, ladies. Be back here and we’ll settle it in the traditional manner.”
Tiffany wanted to say more, but the slender blonde attendant who always escorted her to her dressing room laid a hand on her elbow. “This way.” Tiffany followed her, fuming. That manipulative bastard Gil! This was exactly what he wanted! He’d backed her into a corner. This was a win/win situation for him. No matter who won this fight, he got to fulfill his fantasy. She wanted to punch him in the face, but she’d settle for destroying his whore girlfriend in front of him. The bitch was going down and going down hard. This was going to be sweet revenge, on Sofia for taking her man, and on Gil for his fucked up mind games!
She barged through the open door to her dressing room and slammed it shut behind her, more pissed than she ever remembered being. She threw her clutch purse across the room, hitting a gold and sliver vase on the sideboard, knocking it backwards into the wall and shattering porcelain pieces onto the carpet. Fuck!
How the hell had he pulled this off? Her mind snapped back to the past, to that night she had caught them in her bedroom – HER bedroom! She had been about to kick the shit out of Sofia right then and there but something stopped her. It had not even been a conscious decision and she had never wondered about it until now, but maybe even then she had known that that was what he really wanted – to see her fight for him so badly. She had not given him the satisfaction then, but tonight, she would have to. There was no way out of it. He had played the whole situation beautifully, manipulated her, manipulated the whole Society, to satisfy his all-important fantasy. Fucker!
She stopped and took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. Walking to the mirror, she looked at herself, stared herself sternly in the eyes. Calm down, Tiffany, she told herself. Channel the anger into the fight. She would have the chance to let this all out soon, right on the slut’s face. If a show was what Gil wanted, then a show is what he would get.
She reached up and slipped the dress off her shoulder, easing her arm out of it and wriggling out of the bodice, letting it fall to the floor, standing there in her black heels and her tiny blue and silver snakeskin thong, the bottom half of her bikini. Looking up and down her tanned body, she regarded herself appraisingly – dark, hard nipples, tight abs, sexy, smooth, muscular legs. She looked better than that bitch – she WAS better than that bitch. She formed a mental image of Sofia in her mind. The blonde was very fit and looked strong – Tiffany could tell just from the way she carried herself – but Tiffany could handle her. She was in the best shape she had ever been. She lifted her arms, flexing them, tightening her abs as she looked at herself again in the mirror. She was going to show this bitch up badly. She could not wait to see the look on Gil’s face when he saw what she would do to Sofia. Gil loved dominant women – when Tiffany was done with Sofia, he would probably leave her. She’d have no appeal for him. Not that Tiffany would take him back – the lying, scheming piece of shit.
She retrieved her purse from the floor, feeling a momentary pang of guilt at the smashed vase. She set it on the bed and took off her necklace and earrings, slipping them into the purse as she removed her neatly folded bikini top and slipped it over her head. It was cut a little more generously than the miniscule thong which barely covered her mound and left a good inch of her dark, neatly trimmed landing strip exposed, but her full breasts still bulged around the edges as she knotted the lower strap behind her back.
Her anger had broken her out of her usual routine and she took another deep breath, reminding herself again to focus that anger. There were things to remember. She bent and unfastened the ankle straps of her sandals, setting them beside the bed. Crossing to the nightstand she squirted a generous amount of body oil into her hand and rubbed it carefully over her entire body, even beneath her bikini, until her golden skin gleamed like bronze in the dim light. She gave a perfunctory glance at the folded paper beneath the oil bottle. Those were the guidelines for fighters, along with any special instructions or provisions for tonight. She had memorized the standard ones, and there was nothing new there. She replaced the sheet on the table and turned to check her appearance.
As she turned from side to side, reviewing herself from different angles, her thoughts again turned to Sofia. The bitch was sexy as hell. Tiffany would never admit it to her or to Gil, but she could see he had fucked her. Her tits were big and really impressive and Gil had always been a tit man. Tiffany had never seen her nude or even in a swimsuit, but she could tell even through clothing that Sofia had a super tight body. She wondered who would be stronger. She could tell she worked out.
She felt the familiar butterflies as she began her stretching regimen. Sofia would be a challenge. She knew that. So was everybody here in the Society, but should not afford to lose this fight. This was personal, and it would be bad. Sofia would delight in humiliating her. Gil liked dominant women and Sofia would want to show him, prove she was better. She remembered what Sofia had said before, out in the living room. She got off on fighting, on winning. It turned her on. Tiffany knew that feeling only too well. She also remembered that night back in Miami, when the shameless bitch had wanted Tiffany to join her and Gil in bed. She obviously wanted Tiffany. Tiffany wanted her too, but on her own terms – kneeling on Sofia’s face, victorious, using and humiliating the slut.
When the knock came on the door a few minutes later, she was ready in her black silk robe, emblazoned with the gold Society logo on the back. She followed the slim blonde out into the main room, feeling the temperature increase as she emerged through the archway. The party-goers – the audience now – formed a passage for her to make her way to the big black rug, maybe sixteen feet square, which formed the arena for the fight. It was cleared of people, ready for the battle to begin.
Sofia appeared at the opposite side of the arena, moments later, dressed similarly to Tiffany in a black robe that ended above her knees. Like Tiffany, she was barefoot now, and she gazed across the expanse of empty space at Tiffany with lidded eyes. As their eyes met, she blew Tiffany a sly, mocking kiss.
Tiffany stepped forward onto the rug, feeling the thick padding beneath her feet. She unbelted her robe and opened it slowly, facing Sofia, letting her opponent have the first view, her brief bikini leaving little to the imagination. Her body was pumped, her muscles flexed and defined beneath her gleaming skin. Sofia’s eyes widened just a little, though it was hard to tell if that was surprise, apprehension or just eager anticipation.
She let the robe slide off her shoulders, down her arms. The attendant behind her caught it and pulled it away. Tiffany took a deep breath, swelling her chest against her straining bikini top. She could feel it rub her hard nipples. The tiny thong pulled up tight between her nether lips, giving her her trademark camel toe, with an inch of dark hair protruding above it. There was an appreciative murmur from the audience. They had seen her before, but not like this. This was the best she had ever looked.
Sofia also stepped forward, her face impassive though her emerald green eyes roved up and down Tiffany’s body. She stopped three or four paces from Tiffany, and paused a moment before her arms reached up to her waist and she slowly opened her robe, displaying herself to Tiffany.
She was indeed very slightly taller than Tiffany. Her shoulders were broad, the muscles well defined, and her arms were slender but muscular without an ounce of fat. She wore a black bikini that barely contained her massive breasts, which swelled above the full-cut cups. Her nipples jutted through the fabric like imprisoned thumbs, pushing hard at the tight-stretched material, revealing her arousal, though that was evident as she regarded Tiffany with a hungry gleam in her eyes. Her belly was firm and flat, the lines of her abs clearly visible from the underside of her ribcage, all the way down to the low-cut top of her bikini bottoms, the swell of her clean shaven mound visible above the upper edge.
Sofia let her robe fall at her feet, revealing herself now to the entire room. The buzz of conversation in the crowd grew even louder. Tiffany saw a few people reach for smart phones, presumably to place or change bets. She knew the Society members placed wagers on these fights. She hoped they were better in her favor.
The blonde’s bikini bottom was a thong, as she revealed when she turned, arms raised, displaying herself to the onlookers. The back was slim, almost a string, bisecting the hard, smooth orbs of her tight buttocks, which tapered down to shapely thighs that looked as strong now as they did when teasingly revealed by her skirt.
She turned back to Tiffany. Their eyes met once more. Sofia drew a deep breath of her own, the straps of her bikini top stretching even tighter against her breasts. They were clearly enhanced but no less imposing for that.
“Tonight I’m going to humiliate you...my special present to Gil,” promised Sofia. “He’s going to watch you eat my pussy until I cum in your face.”
Tiffany gave a sharp snort of laughter. “Sure you are. You saw the look in his eyes, earlier. We both know it’s me he wants to see win this fight. It’s always been me he wants.” She grinned.
The smile left Sofia’s face. “Remember who he chose, bitch!”
“Chose? I left him! You were just the consolation prize…the sloppy seconds.”
With a scream of rage, without even waiting for Michael to begin the fight, Sofia flew at Tiffany.
Tiffany backpedaled as Sofia charged her, retreating across the arena in time with the other woman’s advance. “Don’t run from me, slut!” roared Sofia angrily. “Stand and fight!”
Tiffany wasn’t running – she was just giving the bitch time to get up some speed. As she took a fourth step back, near the edge of the arena, she braced her back foot, dropped rapidly to one and fired her fist forward and upward.
Sofia let out a sharp grunt of pain and surprise as she ran right onto the punch, taking it in her belly right above her navel. She whipped her upper body forward and twisted her torso sideways to absorb and deflect the impact, but still Tiffany felt her fist dig deep into her opponent’s hard abs. Sofia spun past her, to the edge of the rug as Tiffany pushed herself to her feet again. She could see the tension in Sofia’s jaw – the punch had hurt her, but she was a long way from incapacitated.
The blonde lunged again, her lips drawn back in a snarl, her arms outstretched to grasp at Tiffany’s chest. Tiffany dodged to her right so that Sofia’s headlong rush sent her hurtling past on Tiffany’s left side. Tiffany saw an opportunity and brought her elbow up to hammer into the side of her enemy’s head as the French woman surged past her.
They both spun to face each other and she saw Sofia tense her powerful legs to charge again, but suddenly she stopped, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Hah! I see your game, Tiffany! You’re trying to make me angry, make me stupid, so I make stupid mistakes and you can defeat me!” Her eyes narrowed. “Nice try, bitch! You think this is my first fight?” She began to circle to her right, her hands loose at her sides.
Tiffany turned with her. “It’s not your first fight, whore, but it’s your first against me!” she sneered. “And I promise you, it’ll be your last! By the time I get done with you, you won’t ever want to face me again!”
Sofia laughed lightly. “Big talk! Let’s see if you can back it up, no?” She leapt forward, coming in on an angle to Tiffany’s left, and launched a hard right-handed punch aimed at Tiffany’s right breast. Tiffany twisted to the right, and Sofia’s punch merely grazed the outside of her breast, but the blonde’s charge slammed her right shoulder into Tiffany’s, spinning them both toward one another, and Sofia’s left fist drove in under Tiffany’s right arm to pound her breast painfully, knocking it upward and inward, threatening to bounce it out of her tight-stretched bikini top.
Tiffany yelped but used the momentum of the turn to slam her own left fist into Sofia’s chest between her breasts, driving the air out of her lungs with an audible ‘whoosh’. The blow caught Sofia off balance and sent her stumbling backwards off the edge of the rug. The audience parted before her as she backpedaled, finally regaining her footing several paces from the edge of the arena.
Tiffany strode after her with a snort of laughter. “Now who’s running away, slut?”
Sofia gave more ground, giving herself time to regain her breath, but soon ran out of room to retreat as she came close to the floor-to-ceiling windows that formed three walls of the room. Tiffany laughed again. “Nowhere left to run, skank!” She lunged at Sofia, arms up, reaching for the blonde’s hair.
Sofia threw herself forward too, raising her own hands, grasping at Tiffany’s arms. They came together with a thud of flesh on flesh. Elbows bent, their hands intertwined alongside their shoulders, they strained against one another, each trying furiously to force the other back. Their chests pressed tight together, breasts flattened between their gleaming, struggling bodies. Breathing hard, Tiffany could feel her hard nipples rubbing on Sofia’s breasts, through her thin bikini, and the blonde’s own nipples scraping her flesh too.
Tiffany groaned with the effort, the muscles of her legs flexing, beginning to burn as she fought to gain an advantage. She glared fiercely into Sofia’s eyes, and her opponent stared back at her with equal determination, her teeth clenched tight together, her breath hot on Tiffany’s cheek. “I…will…destroy…you!” grunted Sofia.
Her enemy’s words only increased Tiffany’s determination. She would not – COULD NOT – lose to this bitch! With a roar of supreme exertion, she reached deep and found the extra ounce of strength she needed. The muscles of her thighs bunched tight, she slowly but inexorably inched herself forward, driving Sofia back. Sofia groaned louder as Tiffany bent the blonde’s body with her own, trying to retain her balance, but at last she could hold on no longer. Tiffany felt her falter and, as she went to step back, threw her own body forward, shoving Sofia violently backward.
Sofia stumbled back, a look of surprise, even shock, on her face, and fetched up against the windows, flattening her body against the glass. She braced her arms and pushed off, coming at Tiffany again with the shriek of rage. “I will FUCKING destroy you!” she promised.
Tiffany rammed herself into Sofia once more, grabbing again at the blonde’s wrists, lifting Sofia’s arms, pinning them once more against the window as both their bodies slammed into the windows with a force that shook the thick panes. With nothing but the glass separating them from the forty storey drop, they again strained against one another, the sweat of their battle mingling on their bodies.
Sofia struggled valiantly to force herself forward and Tiffany fought to keep her pinned in place, their chests heaving, breasts mushroomed together, panting hard in one another’s faces. “You’re nothing but a weak skinny bitch with big tits and a chip on your shoulder!” snarled Tiffany.
“Eat me,
putain!” screamed Sofia as she slammed her body into Tiffany, arms trembling with the effort as she fought to push them both off the glass.
Tiffany strained with all her might to shove Sofia back against the window, but the blonde fought with a manic ferocity, her massive chest again slamming into Tiffany, this time knocking her back a step. Tiffany shoved a leg out behind her to brace herself, wondering just where the bitch had found this sudden surge of strength. It didn’t matter. It was up to Tiffany to deal with it – with her – and deal with it she would. She thrust body forward again with renewed determination.
Sofia suddenly stopped pushing and spun to her left, dragging Tiffany with her. Tiffany felt her body slide across Sofia’s, turning and then crashing backwards against the window. She felt as well as heard the glass vibrate and a thrill of fear rushed through her. Falling forty floors to her death would be a pretty damn stupid way to end a fight.
She was snapped back to the reality of the fight as Sofia let go her arms and gave her a vicious slap that caught her across her left cheek and snapped her head to the side. The force of it made her see stars but she wasn’t going to let the slut have the satisfaction of knowing that. She sneered as she turned her head back to face Sofia again. “Really, whore? Is that all you got?” She slammed the heels of her open hands savagely into Sofia’s shoulders, rocking the blonde back on her heels. She saw a sudden flash of emotion across Sofia’s face. What was that – fear? It was gone before she could be sure. “SLAP ME AGAIN!!!” she roared, lashing out with her right hand, gripping Sofia by the throat, pinching hard and forcing the other woman up onto her toes.
Sofia screamed in pain but obviously decided that attack was the best form of defense and drove her knee up hard toward Tiffany’s groin, reaching out with clawed fingers for Tiffany’s breasts. “Let’s see whose claws are sharper, bitch!” she snarled.
The moment she took to draw her leg back was just enough for Tiffany to snap her thighs tight together and twist her body. Sofia’s knee thudded into the hard muscle on the top of her thigh and she grunted in pain. “Dirty BITCH!”
She whipped her other hand up and grasped the straining strap of Sofia’s bikini top between her breasts, jerking hard. Sofia stumbled forward as the overburdened top tore free, spilling her breasts out. Tiffany twisted to her left, yanking Sofia past her. Sofia shrieked in pain and anger as she slammed once more into the window, face-first, her bare breasts pressed against the cold glass. She yelped even louder as Tiffany’s balled fist drove into her right kidney from behind.
Tiffany thrust a hand into Sofia’s hair, ramming her face forward into the window, holding her in place. The French woman screamed and struggled. Tiffany slid her other hand under the back of Sofia’s thong, getting a good grip. “You like that, WHORE?” She bent her knees. “Try THIS!” She heaved upward, wrenching the thong savagely up between the blonde’s buttocks, digging it deep into the tender flesh of her loins, lifting Sofia onto her toes and making her roar in agony. “Suffer, cxnt!!!” She jerked again as Sofia wailed in misery, her arms thrashing wildly trying to reach Tiffany, then a third time, until the thong finally tore across the gusset with a loud ripping noise, leaving Tiffany holding the back in her hand as Sofia slumped against the glass.
With her feet finally on the ground, Sofia at last managed to get an elbow into Tiffany’s side, below her ribs, and Tiffany grunted in pain, stumbling sideways. With her hand in Sofia’s hair, she hauled the blonde backward off the glass with a savage snarl, spinning her around and, with her other hand still gripping Sofia by the waistband of her ruined thong, ran her back toward the arena as the crowd scurried out of their way.
The audience opened up before them as Tiffany half pushed, half dragged the stumbling Sofia onto the thick black rug. As they emerged into the arena though, their feet tangled and they both fell in a welter of arms and legs.
Tiffany crashed down heavily on her side and pushed up onto all fours, eager to get to her feet and carry on punishing this blonde skank. Before she could so however, a hard shove from Sofia’s foot slammed into the outside of her right breast, knocking it out of her bikini top and hurling her over onto her side again.
Sofia leapt after her with a roar of rage, shoving her hard on her hip, shoving her onto her back. “Now it’s my turn, BITCH!” she roared, her face still pinched tight with pain. She grabbed Tiffany’s arms and pushed them down to the floor, leaning her weight on them, but Tiffany managed to pull one arm free.
Sofia changed tactics and instead grabbed for Tiffany’s thong with hooked claws, still hold onto Tiffany’s other arm. “You want to play rough? I’ll TEAR that fucking thong off you with my bare hands!” Tiffany clutched at the blonde’s wrists, trying to fend her off.
Tiffany rolled hard to her right to put some distance between herself at Sofia, slapping at the French woman’s arm as she grabbed for the front of Tiffany’s thong. She got her knees under her and pushed herself up, ready to rise to her feet, but Sofia lunged for her again, this time getting a hand in her hair. Tiffany yelped at the sudden pain in her scalp as the blonde jerked her backwards, and she slammed into Sofia’s chest with a wet slap of sweat-slicked flesh.
Sofia slid her other hand into the back of Tiffany’s thong, pulling upward. “You’re so proud of your fucking camel toe, bitch!” she snarled. “How about THIS???” She surged to her feet, hauling up hard on Tiffany’ thong, jerking Tiffany upright on her knees as the thong pulled up between her legs. Tiffany gasped as pain exploded in her loins.
“How does that feel,
chatte
” snarled Sofia as Tiffany ground her teeth in anguish. “You like that??? Try THIS!!!” She wrenched even harder on Tiffany’s thong and Tiffany screamed out loud as the stitching of her thong ripped at both hips, the flimsy garment snapping up through her crotch with a final burst of pain that made her arch her back, her entire body rigid for a moment. She felt like her pussy was on fire where the thong had scraped roughly against her sensitive nether lips as Sofia ripped it free. She clenched her teeth and focused through the pain.
Sofia slid her left arm around Tiffany’s neck, her forearm beneath Tiffany’s chin, forcing her head back. The blonde shoved a knee into Tiffany’s back, arching it even further, thrusting her breasts – one bare, one pressing hard against her straining bikini top – out toward the crowd. Tiffany groaned, staring hatefully up into Sofia’s face as the blonde smiled scornfully down at her. “So…now you should be naked like me!” She hooked her fingers under the strap of Tiffany’s top between her breasts and wrenched upward. The first sharp tug dragged the bottom edge partway up Tiffany’s breasts, digging deep into the soft flesh. Tiffany winced. The second, even harder, tore the top off her, scraping the lower edge painfully across her erect nipples, bouncing her breasts free as the top pulled up around her neck just below Sofia’s encircling arm.
“Now everyone can see your tits, just like they can see mine.” Sofia laughed. “Now they can all see that mine are superior.” She bent forward, reached down and cupped her hand beneath Tiffany’s right breast, lifting it, holding it firmly. She lifted her head and scanned the audience. “You can all see,
non? My tits are bigger, firmer, better than this black bitch!”
Tiffany clenched her teeth, her anger rising, pushing back the pain. How dare this dirty whore handle her like this, displaying her like a piece of meat, offered for sale at a market! And calling her a black bitch? What the fuck was that about??? She squirmed in Sofia’s grasp, trying hard to wrench herself free, but the blonde’s grip on her neck tightened, her knee dug deeper into Tiffany’s back, and Tiffany sucked in her breath at the increased pain in her neck and spine. She stopped struggling – stupid to waste her strength. The cocky bitch would make a mistake sooner or later, and Tiffany would be ready when she did. It would take more than a smart mouth to defeat her, and Sofia would soon find that out.
“Even you can see it, bitch,” continued Sofia. “You see me and you see you, and you know why Gil left you for me…for these!” She took a deep breath, swelling her enormous chest, her deep pink nipples thrusting out proudly.
Tiffany glared up at her. “You…stupid…slut!” she hissed through clenched teeth. “You can’t even remember the truth!
I left
him after I caught him in bed with you, you whore! You were his second choice then, just like now!”
“That’s what YOU think, slut! When I get done with you, they will ALL know I’m the superior woman! Stronger, sexier!” She pinched Tiffany’s nipple savagely between her finger and thumb, and pulled hard. Tiffany howled. Sofia bent a little further, pressed her hard, rounded breasts into Tiffany’s face and wriggled her shoulders, shaking them back and forth, slapping Tiffany’s cheeks hard. “They will all see!” Tiffany heard a ripple of laughter from the audience, and growled with anger. She tensed her muscles as she sensed Sofia growing ever more confident, paying more attention to the crowd than to her. Any moment now…
“Say it!” screeched Sofia. “Say it, black bitch!”
“Black bitch???” yelled Tiffany into Sofia’s cleavage. “I’m Italian-Brazilian, you fucking stupid cxnt!” She screamed the last word at the top of her lungs, focusing her power into the strident sound and, even more importantly, making Sofia start and freeze for a crucial instant.
The moment came. Clenching her jaw tightly, knowing this was going to hurt but not giving a damn – she was going to get this bitch if it took every last ounce of her strength – she arched her back, thrusting her breasts out, taking in a huge breath as she gathered her strength. She threw her arms up, thrusting her fingers into Sofia’s hair as the blonde bent over her. Jerking her body violently forward, she felt the burn in her arms as hauled Sofia downward with all her might. Sofia let out a shriek of surprise and fury as she flew forward over Tiffany’s shoulder. She released her grip on Tiffany’s neck, and landed hard on her back in front of Tiffany, arching her back momentarily in pain.
Tiffany lunged forward, still on her knees. She reached out with widespread arms, and slammed her open hands together on the outsides of Sofia’s upthrust breasts, smashing them together. Sofia let out a loud yelp. Tiffany kept her grip on them, grabbing and twisting savagely. The blonde howled in pain, her hands flying up to grasp at Tiffany’s wrists. “You’re so obsessed with those huge fake tits of yours!” roared Tiffany. “Well that’s ALL you got going for you, BITCH…and I got news for you! They’re NOT so fucking hot!” She wrenched viciously upward on Sofia’s breasts and Sofia screamed, kicking her feet on the floor.
Suddenly releasing her desperate grip on Tiffany’s wrists, the blonde lashed out wildly with her left arm. Her open hand struck Tiffany on her left cheek, sending her toppling sideways with a curse. She was more angry at losing the opportunity to torment the bitch’s tits some more, than hurt at the blow itself. She rolled over and came to her knees, then rose to her feet. She snatched her bikini top off, over her head, and threw it aside, standing proud and naked. She had been down but she wasn’t down now. Now she was on her feet again, and she was going to make that bitch eat every word she had just uttered.
Sofia had rolled the other way and also stood. The blonde’s chest was heaving, her huge breasts blotched red with the marks of Tiffany’s fingers. She tossed her hair back, glaring at Tiffany, all the cockiness gone from her face.
“IS THAT ALL YOU GOT, BITCH?” yelled Tiffany, pointing her finger at Sofia’s pace, which was still pinched with pain. She took a deep breath, her breasts rising, swelling provocatively. The right one throbbed a little but she knew they weren’t marked like Sofia’s were. She pushed her shoulders back. If the bitch was so proud of her tits, let her get a good look at these and maybe she’d think twice. She flexed the muscles of her legs, gathering her strength, her bronzed skin gleaming in the light. “Come on and FIGHT!” She threw herself forward.
Sofia sprang to meet the charge.
The two women lunged at one another yet again, both on their knees now as the grueling fight sapped their strength. Hands locked up, arms straining hard, they struggled mightily against one another, their hair hanging in limp rat-tails as sweat dripped from their erect nipples.
“Give up, Tiffany!” gasped Sofia, her flushed face close to Tiffany’s own. “I have you now!” She shoved forward harder, forcing Tiffany back an inch or two.
“Maybe in your little world, WHORE!” hissed Tiffany through clenched teeth. “But not in THIS one!” With a harsh grunt she halted the blonde’s momentum and regained the ground she had lost.
Their faces pressed even closer, only inches apart. Tiffany could see the anger in Sofia’s eyes, the same fierce determination reflected in her own. She had fought the French woman to a standstill, but the bitch had done the same to her. There must be something, some trick, some move that would give her the advantage. All she had to do was find it.
“It’s useless,” breathed Sofia. “I will wear you down until you can’t fight any more, and then smother you out under my beautiful tits!”
Tiffany’s lips drew back in a mirthless smile. “In your fucking dreams, SLUT! Those stupid bowling balls of yours will make nice cushions for when I’m squatting on your face and you’re licking my pussy!”
Sofia’s eyes flashed, not just with anger but with something else too. Suddenly she tore her hands free from Tiffany’s grip, grabbing at Tiffany’s neck. Tiffany clutched at her wrists, trying to pull her arms away before the blonde could get a firm hold on her throat, but that was not her opponent’s intention. Sliding her fingers up beneath Tiffany’s hair at the nape of her neck, she pulled Tiffany’s head forward sharply and drove her forehead forward, aiming for Tiffany’s face.
Tiffany’s eyes flew open wide but she rammed her open hand upward between their bodies, slamming the heel of it into Sofia’s chin and halting the head butt. “You…BITCH!” she roared, jerking her head back hard. Sofia surged forward into her though, her chest slapping hard into Tiffany’s. Startled, distracted, Tiffany felt herself falling backwards, and twisted her body desperately to her left to avoid having Sofia land on top of her.
They landed heavily on their sides, each giving a harsh grunt of pain and growing fatigue at the impact. The landing broke Sofia’s hold on Tiffany’s hair but Tiffany managed to get a hand into the blonde’s sweat-soaked tresses, wrenching her savagely sideways. Tiffany rolled with her, coming over on top, her breasts mushrooming against Sofia’s, feeling the blonde’s hard breasts jutting into her chest. Their nipples scraped hard against one another, sending incongruous sensations of pleasure through Tiffany’s breasts. Well, she would get to assuage those urges after she beat the bitch and rode her face in front of that bastard Gil and the whole Society.
Sofia lashed out with a stinging slap from beneath her but Tiffany caught her wrist and blocked the blow, wrestling Sofia’s arm up above her head. The blonde slapped hard at Tiffany’s face with her other hand but Tiffany twisted her head to the side and Sofia’s hand merely glanced off her cheek.
The combination of Sofia’s swing and Tiffany’s twist allowed Sofia to roll her off however, and she suddenly found their positions reversed, with herself on her back and Sofia on top of her, her breasts pushing Tiffany’s up toward her chin. The blonde stared down at her mockingly. “So now I’m on top…and that’s where I’ll stay. Give up now!”
“You…WISH!” Tiffany whipped her left hand up into Sofia’s hair once more, dragging the blonde’s head hard to the left, rocking her body violently, tipping Sofia sideways. She slammed her right fist into Sofia’s left breast, right on the nipple, crushing it into her ribs and twisting her wrist for maximum effect.
Sofia howled in pain as she tumbled sideways, rolling away. Tiffany rolled in the other direction and came to her knees, panting. She glared balefully at the blonde, flicking her head to sweep her hair out of her eyes. Sofia faced her, a few feet away, also on her knees, her arm clasped across her chest, clutching her injured breast. “BITCH!” she hissed.
“Oh you have NO IDEA!” growled Tiffany. “But you’re about to find out!” Again she lunged for Sofia, and again Sofia responded in kind.
CONTINUED BELOW...
